Miiya Aether's Story

GeneCorp Blue Heaven Branch Office

The GeneCorp office and manufacturing facility in Blue Heaven has changed quite a bit over the centuries the corporation has maintained a presence on the asteroid. The current friendly, polished, carpeted and tastefully-decorated office, dormitory, and living spaces are a far cry from the endless rows of cloning vats, training barracks, chemical tanks, and windowless high-security research laboratories of the original installation. While some laboratory spaces remain, they are now bright sterile places viewable from behind glass on the visitor tour.

The offices of GeneCorp handle some of the day-to-day business of the multi-system corporation. Besides the research laboratories, the rest of the facility is given over to the Genetic Marker program. Sample subjects are brought up from isolated regions of Terra, inducted and trained in the GM program, and either remain on Blue Heaven, or are deployed to satellite offices in other star systems.

To this end, there are well-appointed dormitories, classrooms, dining, exercise, and recreational spaces, for wards of the corporation. GeneCorp GM employees are often inducted as children or youth in order to maximize their useful service period, and they often come from isolated or impoverished backgrounds. GeneCorp provides a secure and supportive youth training environment that meets the needs of all program inductees.

It is not--as some detractors claim--an orbital prison designed to keep unfortunates and orphans as corporate slaves beyond the reach of Terran law.

At least not at first glance.

“Hey, don’t sweat it, stations freak me out too.” The Aeros girl sitting across the table from Aishe said conspiratorially. “No sky!”

“Wh-- Who are you?” The blue-eyes of the youth dropped from the picture window looking out over the interior of Blue Heaven to the winged person who had taken a seat in front of her.

“I’m Miiya Aether!” The girl chirped. “And, before you ask, yes, these are real.” She louvered the feathers on both wings. “And, also yep, I can fly in up to one-and-a-half gee’s.” She grimaced apologetically. “Sorry, I can’t carry you, though, except maybe in quarter-gee or lower, but you can pretty much fly on your own, then.” The grimace became a grin again. “I’m an Aeros. Ever seen one of us before?” Be fore Aishe could reply the girl went on, “I’m human, like you, this is just a gene edit I inherited. You could get it done too, but then you and I would both get fired. Haha.”

“Because I’m a…” Aishe made the connection immediately, but was cut-off by Miiya once more.

“Yardstick! Haha, they tell us not to use that term, but you might as well get used to it.” The winged girl bubbled. “Yeah, you’re a pureblood… um… ugh hair?” Miiya ventured, looking down at the tablet in front of her.

“Ughyr” Aishe corrected, possibly for the hundredth time since she had left Urumqi. “From Xinjiang.” When Miiya’s eyes crossed a little, she added: “Asia? …on Earth? …Terra?”

“Oh yeah!” Miiya jerked a thumb over her shoulder, as if indicating the actual direction toward Terra. “That one! All yardsticks come from Terra.” At least that’s what her materials had said. “Well, I am your Personal Youth Ambassador. PYA. Miiya the Peeya.” She quirked an eyebrow, looking up and back. “Doesn’t sound all that flattering, actually.” The grin returned. It seemed to be her default expression. “I’m not sure why they call it “personal”, I have, like, five other kids assigned to me.”

Aishe was taken a little aback by the person before her referring to her as a “kid.” The winged girl seemed to be at least two years her junior. But maybe that was another mutation? Decreased ageing? Miiya had not stopped talking, and she did not seem inclined to do so anytime soon. Aishe had never known anyone so exuberantly loquacious, but there were many things off Terra that were new, some that she liked and some that she found disturbing. She decided that she liked this noisy, irreverent mutant.

So far, her experience as a ward of GeneCorp had been full of wonder, and this she--when able to get a word in edgewise--related to Miiya. Aishe had never been farther than Kashgar. While her village was ostensibly electrified and had a few network connections, they still relied on truly ancient tech like solar and solid-state batteries, cobbled onto practically-prehistoric stone, wood, and brick buildings. She knew of starships, cybernetics, Genetic Engineering, and off-world colonies in theory from teachers and the village tinker, but experiencing such a massive flood of tech firsthand all in the span of a few days had been a bit overwhelming.

“I know! That’s why I’m here! To help you adjust!” Miiya chirped. “Don’t worry, I’ve never lost a kid yet!”

Over the course of their meet-and-greet luncheon, Aishe learned not to take Miiya’s somewhat-unnerving proclamations too seriously. She also discovered that Aeros were voracious eaters. “H-how…?” She began, when her ‘mentor’ returned with a fifth plate piled high from the buffet.

“I know, right?” Miiya said around a mouthful of sandwich. “I used to think thmm wamf sumffn…” She swallowed. “...wrong with me, too, cuz I didn’t grow up around Aeros.” She cocked her head to the side in a dismissive gesture. “But, no, this is just the way we are. I’m REALLY different--and not just the wings. I can see a lot farther than you, my blood is thicker, my bones are lighter and more flexible, even my muscle tissue is different from yours under a microscope.” The Aeros girl was getting into her role now, genuinely excited about the talking points she had been encouraged to cover with her charge. “And there’s soooo many other edits out there; people who can see in ultraviolet, people who can live in high-radiation without medicine, miners, sailors, soldiers, swimmers, and flyers, like me!” She paused both talking and taking in food on the inhale for a moment. “And this program--you--make it all possible. GeneCorp helps other companies baseline their genetic engineering; keep us all in the same Genus--at least--and make sure we don’t edit in any mutations that could result in problematic hybrids.” She paused and took a swig of a fizzy orange drink. “Whoo. That was a lot, and I think I got it right. Essentially you’re here to make sure I don’t grow a beak and start laying eggs!” She amended: “Or my kids, someday, I guess.”

Apparently the only silences Aishe could expect were awkward ones, and that was what ensued. Miiya filled it by eating, Aisha was simply grateful for a moment’s peace.

Delfye

Walking quickly from the docks, Delfye cut through a few back alleyways, skirting the crowded boulevard of the Main Promenade. He slipped into Bar None, the dive where he was to meet his informant, a minute or two after the agreed-upon meeting time.

There she was, pretty face, shit, what was her name again? he wondered, wracking his brain. Sierra, that was it . Good, no sense in antagonizing her. She looked and smelled a lot better than he did, by virtue of not having spent the last six hours stuffed up a tramp freighter’s tailpipe. She’s probably going out after this. He thought to himself as he took a seat opposite the Private Eye. “Well?”

Not bad. Delfye thought to himself after Sierra finished her summary and uploaded the relevant details to his net. Apparently he had made the right choice--or maybe the information was just really easy to come by. Either way, she had gotten him what he asked for. “Thanks.” He said, releasing the rest of the funds to her account. “No, that’s all I need. Good work.” He said in response to her question. Delfye thought about offering to buy her a drink as a tip, but he didn’t think she was dressed like that to hang out with a grease monkey, so he just ordered himself a pint and nodded as she took her leave.

He parsed through the information in the files, the PI had sent him, while sipping at the lager. His ocular implant superimposed the data over his vision, so he could watch the bar while he read. Not that there was much to see. It was fairly busy with the usual customers: lots of local stroiders, maybe a tourist or two, no Aschen goons just yet.

So, she was here. That was a relief. The more Delfye read, the more impressed he was with Sierra. Not only had she managed to get visual confirmation of Aishe’s presence, she had also sent him the next week’s worth of GeneCorp transport schedules for those ships calling at Blue Heaven. When Delfye scrolled down to find the weekly schedule for the GM youth program, he took a moment to upload that tip to the PI. She had done some real digging--maybe posing as a parent or social worker--to get this. It was certainly not something that GeneCorp would openly publish on the nets.

It was enough for Delfye to have a good shot at contacting Aishe. The cyborg ordered himself a second pint, and began looking through station schematics on his ocular implant, formulating a plan.

The lights of all public areas in the Main Promenade flickered, then began to blare red and then blue, red and then blue, red and then blue. A voice calmly blared through the sound system for all to hear above the din.



Any security alarms (as installed according to code and the respective business owner's preference of alarm) within private establishments such as Blue Heaven Luxury Condos, would receive the message of alarm and react accordingly.

The lights of all public areas in the interior cavern flickered, then began to blare red and then blue, red and then blue, red and then blue. A voice calmly blared through the sound system for all to hear above the din.



Any security alarms (as installed according to code and the respective business owner's preference of alarm) within private establishments such as GeneCorp, Club 47, and Hotel Zafiro would receive the message of alarm and react accordingly

Miiya Aether
Miiya was a few weeks into her rotation through Blue Heaven, and she had mixed feelings about the posting. The work--if you could call it that--was great! Essentially she was just a liaison with the Genetic Markers being brought up from Terra. Her “job” consisted of socializing with the newcomers and helping them adjust to life as a GeneCorp ward. She was not even responsible for arranging schedules or transportation--that fell to a pair of full-time employees. When on shift and not with the GM’s, Miiya was the gofur. That had her running around the station doing odd pickups, deliveries, and occasionally setting up or tearing down events for the GM’s. None of the work was difficult, and most of it was pretty fun. Further, she had now had a pretty good sense of Blue Haven from all her comings and goings.

While the work was good, the environment was not. Miiya did not like life in a tin can or a hollowed out rock. Blue Haven’s warren of skyless decks, pods, towers, and lifts brought back memories of home, and those were not welcome. She really wanted to be out under the sky again--or at least somewhere you could fly without drawing attention. It was still fun to aviate in narrow spaces like Blue Heaven’s interior, but changing decks by flying felt like showing off, so she often took the lifts during the busiest hours of the day. Which sucked.

She also did not have a lot of down time during which to visit Cahron. Even when she wasn’t working, she was often scheduled to be on-call or at least present on the GeneCorp campus. When she did have empty time, she was encouraged to spend it with her half-dozen charges. That was all well and good during the honeymoon phase when everyone was fresh-faced and full of wonder, but as she and the GMs became more comfortable with one another, some conflicts of personality arose. On the whole, the Aeros girl was glad she would only be here for two months.

Even if she didn’t like the environment, or if she sometimes groused to her brother about having to play nanny to the Terrans brought up by the corporation, Miiya never showed her disquiet to her charges. She liked them all well enough--even the somewhat bossy ones, and Aishe in particular. The Ughyr girl--though she basically grew up in a prehistoric agrarian village--seemed like a kindred spirit to the city-born flyer. Though they both shared a deep resentment of the circumstances of their upbringings, each still possessed an unshakable core of filial piety. This kinship made for quite an excess of complaining that would sound eye-gougingly whiny to any eavesdropper. Their bitchfests conversations were almost a form of superpower, generating a repulsive field around the two girls that was an almost tangible wave of brain-melting tedium to any outsider who came within earshot.

Miiya was delighted, then, when Aishe’s quarantine came to an end, and she was allowed on escorted outings around Blue Heaven. “I have SO much to show you!” She bubbled when Aishe approached her about leaving the Genecorp compound together during her free period. “So, there’s a group attending the opening of Zafiro hotel--yeah, boring, I think so too.” Miiya interrupted her own suggestion as Aishe cocked an eyebrow. “Or, I can show you the best spots on the promenade.” That got a smile. “I mean, there’s docks, external station tour boats, and other dumb shu, but we can do them another time.” She nodded when Aishe suggested they visit the bazaar. “Right! Let’s do it!”

The GM’s were not allowed out without an employee--Miiya did not count--and the GM handlers were busy, so the pair had to wait until security could detail them an escort. In the meantime, Miiya listed the places that--in her opinion--were the best for food, fun, and shopping, which stores had the hottest clerks, which pubs had the most lax door policy, and the like. Somewhere in there, she thought she probably mentioned security and how to use the nets in case there was an emergency or they became separated. Maybe.

They were about thirteen paces from GeneCorp’s front entrance when the PA system chimed.

“Attention; Due to a disturbance in the station, the campus will be sealed until further notice. All employees are requested to observe status Charlie. Youth program participants please return to the core areas. Nonessential personnel are released for the day.”

Miiya scowled as she looked up “at” the disembodied voice. “Ahh… Frett me! Really?” She folded her arms, feathers louvering involuntarily in annoyance as their escort excused herself and headed for the security desk. “Welp, there goes that plan.” She could see--beyond GeneCorp’s glass entryway, station alert lights flashing blue and red. “Wanna head back to the commons and see what’s up?” She suggested to Aishe.

Delfye
It had been a productive few days since meeting the PI. Delfye had put together a plan that had a reasonable chance of success. It was a little dramatic and a little complicated, but that was by necessity. Getting Aishe away from her corporate handlers was not going to be easy--or cheap.

Delfye didn’t sleep anymore--hadn’t slept in over a decade--so the “not cheap” part of his plans turned out to not be a major issue. Working four days of three back-to-back shifts at the docks did not pay a lot--for an unlicensed mechanic--but it paid enough to rent the equipment he needed. With the Aschen fleet in town, suddenly everyone with a duffy wanted their ship tuned and ready to depart on a moment’s notice. Delfye couldn’t say he disagreed with the sentiment.

The sammaran was on his way to GeneCorp when the alert sounded. He didn’t waste breath on melodrama, but simply hung a left and pretended the electronics shop he entered had been his intended destination in the first place. The demonstration net access devices were as good a source as any to scour the station news for the source of the disturbance.

Except it wasn’t on the news yet. No big surprise there. Delfye switched over to the social nets and started digging through the cascade of garbage spewing from every opinionated ignoramus with a keyboard. The AI of the demo device he happened to grab--a ninth-generation Q-pad--was actually pretty good at shoveling shit, and got him a 90% probable answer to the question “WTF is going on?”

Two (or more, probablity 60/20%) unrelated homicides. One of them seemed to be important; either Aschen or one of the Dellevon family. SM probabilities were split in the 50’s either way, so not reliable info. Delfye hoped it wasn’t an imperial. That would really monky wrench his plans.

Well, GeneCorp was going to be shuttered until at least the end of the lockdown, so Delfye had time to kill. The kid minding the shop was glued to his own screen--probably researching or posting reactions to the lockdown, or maybe just playing a game. Delfye decided to entertain himself trying out the various flashy new tech toys on display.

Bartholemew Kerrigan groaned at the announcement, clearly indicating his unhappiness at now being stuck on the station.

Great, just what I needed...

he spoke aloud. He thought to himself that he might as well get his business done, as who knows how long this lockdown would last. He set astride for the Administrative Offices and departed with determination, hands in his coat pockets and a stern look on his face.

Miiya Aether

Miiya was bummed about being stuck in the GeneCorp campus for the day, but there were far worse ways to spend an afternoon. One of the more net-savvy interns had found out the lockdown was crime-related, so no one was particularly bothered. The head of an influential family had been killed--at least that was the most widespread rumor--and the authorities were trying to keep incoming and outgoing ships from docking or undocking, respectively, in an attempt to trap the killer on the station.

“Why?” Miiya wondered, aloud. “Do they really think they’re more likely to catch them here on Blue Heaven?” The Aeros girl had been all over the station and she knew just how broken and inadequate the neglected surveillance system was--and that was in the safer parts of the station. It had been the same in New Warsaw ghetto--in the rare event that the scanners, cameras, and microphones worked--they were usually unmonitored except by discount AI’s. Police and security--public or private--preferred to spend their money on salaries,
“And Donuts.” She added, laughing,
rather than on infrastructure, tech support, or actual repairs to their monitoring systems. ”After all, if they actually solved crimes and locked up criminals, they’d put themselves out of a job.”. She opined to the group, failing to keep a hint of bitterness out of her voice.

Miiya’s experiences with law enforcement had rarely been positive. There had barely been any sort of police presence in the neighborhood where she grew up. What she learned in school, of civic structure, clashed jarringly with the reality of gang-dominated life in the lower levels of New Warsaw. Later, while on the road with her brother, on some of the wealthier worlds and stations, there seemed to be no limit to the amount of resources local police would direct against street theater performers and buskers.

Nobody seemed to want to debate Miiya on her low opinion of law enforcement, so the handful of GeneCorp interns and some of the younger GM’s in the commons, instead, decided to play a murder-mystery party game, in irreverent honor of the murders keeping them locked down.

When Miiya happened to draw the card to be the interloper, she gleefully slaughtered the digital avatars of her fellow ‘corpers and GM’s alike.

Miiya Aether
The lockdown ended and GeneCorp resumed normal business routines. The company returned to Asset Protection Condition Alpha; the exterior doors were opened, extra security personnel were relieved, and the internal security doors to non-sensitive areas were unlocked. Unfortunately, it was too late in the cycle for Miiya to take Aishe out to the Promenade, so they agreed to a rain check until tomorrow after work.

Miiya, herself, left the GeneCorp campus in the evening. With the lockdown, she decided she had been around the GM’s and her fellow interns enough for one day, and decided to see what Cahron was up to. They had been in communication during the lockdown, and she knew she could find him on the Causeway between the luxury residences and the Bazaar. The wide plaza provided a good place for busking, and Miiya suggested they perform one of their comedy and acrobatic routines as a duo. She could use some extra scratch for when she took Aishe out on the Promenade.

Miiya Aether
(OOC: Arriving from GeneCorp)
“Hey, Guh.” Miiya hailed Cahron as she approached. Her older brother was seated on a planter near the middle of the causeway, next to a good-sized satchel. She reiterated her plan to do a bit of street performing together with him. “Yah know, lift people’s spirits after the lockdown.” She suggested.

Cahron was amiable to the idea, he enjoyed performing with his sister, and did not mind splitting the proceeds of their busking, even though he was the more skilled of the pair, and their duo performances were more of a training session for her, rather than a proper performance. Miiya’s awkwardness and occasional mistakes usually charmed passers-by and audiences, so the take was often larger with her around. The pair had evolved a routine with natural banter that included comical abuse of each other, which both enjoyed.

“Pay no attention to my idiot brother, ladies and gentlemen!” Miiya was exhorting the audience, juggling pins in hand. He came out of the egg quite addled, and--I assure you, good people--the passage of time has not corrected the unfortunate circumstances of his hatching!” Her speech was ridiculous, of course. Aeros were not oviparous--as with other humans, they were birthed or decanted depending on cultural preference and availability of maternal medical care, on whatever world they originated. Not everyone knew this, and Miiya could judge, from the reactions of those watching, which of their victims audience were ignorant of Aeros physiology--a necessity for selecting volunteers for this next bit of aerobatic comedy.
…
Some time later, Miiya was sitting on the self-same planter where she had found Cahron waiting for her. Selecting the cleanest of her brother’s towels, she mopped her brow. She proceeded to bend her spine, extend her arms, and then her wings, in a luxurious stretch. “Well, that was fun, thanks,Guh.” She said. “How’d we do?” She inquired of Cahron, who was counting the physical chits their audience had contributed. Once electronic deposits were added in, the take was fair-to-good for a weeknight. At Miiya’s suggestion, the pair decided to treat themselves to a frozen dessert from a nearby causeway-fronting shoppe, and they both remained on the causeway, catching up and chatting about nothing of any great consequence until well into the station’s night cycle.

Miiya Aether
It was getting late. Miiya was expected back at GeneCorp, unless she checked in with the company and reported that she would be staying with her brother. Cahron did not spare his sister’s sensibilities--he never did--in telling her to buzz off. He had plans later that did not include a fifteen-year-old tagalong. “Gross. TMI, birdbrain.” She fondly flipped Cahron an avian-based gesture in salutation as she departed. ”Smell ya later.”
(OOC: To - Blue Heaven Interior)

Miiya Aether
(OOC: From - The Causeway, and after the night cycle ended)

It had been a busy morning at GeneCorp, that extended into the afternoon. Miiya had been pretty submerged in a term paper after working through the morning on various GM-related tasks and bookkeeping.

“Heck yes!” the Aeros girl chirped, when Aishe found her study nook and asked if she had time to go out on the Main Promenade. “Best thing about this job; pushing deadlines!” Miiya smiled as she closed up her files.

It was true; she could--and often did--push back the “study” part of her work-study program. GeneCorp sponsored her tuition and remote sessions at a Wing-City-based secondary school. She could use work as an excuse to delay deadlines and due dates. After all, this IS work. she thought to herself as she headed out with Aishe.
(OOC: To - The Bazaar)

Miiya Aether
(OOC: From - Interior Cavern - GeneCorp)
A pair of girls and a GeneCorp security guard arrived at the swirl of holograms, flashing lights, steaming street food stands, sights, smells and bustle of The Main Promenade. The smaller of the pair was a familiar face to many of the vendors, made more recognizable by the pair of tawny-feathered wings folded tightly against her back. She led her taller blue-eyed companion from place to place, starting--as was her wont--with the food stalls.

Miiya always had a good time on The Promenade. There was a lot of cheap food (that she didn’t have to cook or clean up after) so what was not to like!? Today, however, was special, because she was out with her favorite ward from GeneCorp’s Genetic Marker program. Miiya spent most of her time at the company, so--besides Cahron--she did not know anyone stationside. Her coworkers in the youth program did not seem to like the hustle and din of the commercial district nearly as much as she, so she rarely had a chance to come here with a friend.

As she dragged Aishe from place to place, Miiya tried to stay cognizant that the GM was from a rather remote village on Terra, and not used to such a plethora of items, foods, and services for sale. Still, she found that the Ughyr girl did not seem too much out of her element.

“It’s like the Sunday market in Kashgar, just… a lot bigger!” Aishe yelled to Miiya over the clamor of the crowd and vendors hawking their wares. “And there’s way less dung and dust!” She laughed.

“Let’s check this gu--shoppe out.” Miiya suggested, finishing her squid ball and pulling Aishe out of the flow of pedestrian traffic into a clothing boutique. This was the place she had told her friend about--the one with the super-hot helpful sales guy. Miiya delayed her oggling browsing long enough to pop her head back out the door. “Hey! We’re in here!” She called to their escort. The GeneCorp security suit looked like he was drowning in the crowded market. That guy’s, like, 200 pounds of bummer in a three-piece suit. She thought to herself in lieu of saying as much to Aishe.

On a different day Miiya might have got Aishe out of GenCorp without an escort, but with the recent criminal activity and upset, they were a bit stricter. They had to stay away from security checkpoints, the plaza, and Hotel Zafiro where the murders had taken place. Security was along to make sure they followed the rules. That was fine with Miiya. She didn’t like having to drag security along, but it was okay if it meant going out with Aishe.

The two-hundred-pound bummer found an empty corner to darken and resisted the urge to eat a bullet--he was only carrying a stun wand anyway--as his teenage charges pulled various skimpy outfits from the racks of clothing and dared each other to try them on. All while giggling and shooting not-so-furtive glances at the kid [not] minding the shop. Minding his net access, really, and paying zero attention to the shoppers. Bummer envied his blissful unawareness.

Miiya, meanwhile, had worked up the nerve to model a hair clip in front of the boy mirror at the front counter. “How do I look?” She asked, totally only to Aishe, and definitely not trying to get the mussy-haired attendent’s attention.

The Aeros and Ughyr proceeded through the market in this fashion long enough to completely melt the brain of their escort as they enjoyed themselves. Their security guard’s awareness was pretty much flatlined when they came to a crowded intersection. One of many bumps and jostles the large man suffered left his belt feeling curiously light. Suddenly, he snapped back to the present, his hand dropping to the empty holster of his commpak. “Stop! Thief! He shouted at the back of a diminutive figure weaving through the crowd, running away from him. “Shit!” He swore, forging through the throng of bodies after the pickpocket. That PED would come out of his pay if he lost it, not to mention he’d never hear the end of it from his colleagues if HE got robbed while escorting a pair of youths on the promenade.

For the moment, Miiya and Aishe were left alone.

The lights resumed their normal cadence. A voice came through the speakers.



Any security alarms (as installed according to code and the respective business owner's preference of alarm) within private establishments such as Blue Heaven Luxury Condos, would receive the message of alarm and react accordingly.

Miiya Aether
“This is crazy!” Miiya laughed in the confusion of steam and fog. “Guess we hafta get ice cream somewhere else.” She opined, looking back at Aishe. “Aishe…? Aishe!” She continued to call her friend’s name as she backed out of the fog, casting about for her. “Where’d you go? And where was Big Bummer? she wondered, with a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. That sinking feeling was quickly turning to panic, and she fumbled with her PED, calling up Aishe’s number, only to get a “unable to connect” message.

That, right there, would have paralyzed most of the other interns. The idea of no nets access was an impossibility on a modern ship, station, or civilized planet. That only happened in wartime with active jammers and the ship or station breaking up--or when a gang or other criminal organization was making someone disappear. The nets around Miiya’s home on level twenty in New Warsaw went out with disturbing regularity. Miiya was quick to put two and two together. Aishe had been kidnapped!

Miiya was shocked, but not frozen. She had, herself, been abducted and ransomed back to her mother, once, by a local gang. It had been scary and uncomfortable, but only slightly worse than the beatings she received once she was back home.

Miiya was supposed to call this in--but that was impossible with someone running a local jammer. Others around her were beginning to react to the jamming as well, those with wearables first. She was also supposed to report to the nearest GeneCorp employee; ostensibly big bummer, who had apparently run off, been waylaid, or something. Finding him will take too much time! Failing all else, she was supposed to find station security and make a report. She was, emphatically, not supposed to move in any direction, but away from criminality, when on the clock at GeneCorp.

“Guess I’m on break, then.” She gritted to herself, fists tightening at her sides. Aishe had been here just a second ago, she couldn’t be far, and Miiya would be good-god-damned if she was going to let some arfline steal her ward! Miiya cast about, considering asking some random stranger for help. Nope. Don’t know who’s in on it. Might ask the wrong person. Also, passers-by generally didn’t give a shu. Misdirection from an accomplice had been how they’d gotten her away from Ma; one of those creeps had said they had seen Miiya run off in the wrong direction.

There was only one good option; Go high.

Miiya did not fly in public. She did not fly in crowded spaces. It was embarrassing. She could keep her prosthesis covered with her good wing when she held them folded in tight. It was also the height of rudeness to dust a dozen people with your downwash in a vertical takeoff on a crowded walkway. Miiya did it anyway, without so much as a by-your-leave. Leaving behind askew hairpieces and cursing pedestrians, the Aeros girl crouched, then launched straight up, ascending vertically with powerful wingbeats.

The first few upper levels of the Bazaar were more shops, restaurants, karaoke, bars, hair and nail salons. Higher still were some residential pods. Above that, there were some “rooftop” decks and a bit more open space before you reached the rocky ceiling of the asteroid and the life-support, water, power, and transport utilities attached thereupon. Miiya was panting, her heart thumping in her chest, as she broke into the more-open space just below the chamber ceiling. Hovering was hard--like doing pull-ups with a chin-up bar made of air. She could not do it for long, even in the thick atmosphere of the station. She had to pick a direction and get some lift from level flight. From this perspective, she scanned the surroundings with her sharp vision.

THERE! “Gotcha!” She panted, pitching over and gaining airspeed. Not only could she see the illicit hoverpod--nobody was allowed to fly over the Bazaar--she could spot its occupants, and one of them was Aishe! Pumping hard, she flew after the retreating vehicle. “STOP!! LET HER GO!! ” Miiya had a powerful set of pipes attached to her enhanced lungs. Even inside the hoverpod, she was likely to have been heard--as well as across most of the Bazaar. “I am NOT losing my Gee-Em my THIRD week on this job!” She panted to herself, a bit more quietly, as she pitched over and gave chase.

Miiya

She was losing ground on the kidnapper, but Miiya had longsight. “You ain’t gettin’ away from me, Arfline!” She panted, pumping for speed and diving toward the airlocks in hot pursuit of her quarry.
(To: Airlocks and Checkpoint)

Miiya Aether
(From: The Bazaar)
This dude was definitely bad news. That junk pod he was using to abduct Aishe clearly had illegal modifications. The little intra-station transports were supposed to be speed limited below thirty kph, but this one was outpacing Miiya. She could do better than sixty in steady level flight, and a lot faster in a dive, or when Storm Dancing--like she was now. Her blood was roaring in her ears as she gouged the air, streaking after Aishe and her kidnapper, but even flying flat-out, she was losing ground on them.

Bouncing off the huge cargo container slowed her quarry a bit, and Miiya did not hesitate to run the checkpoint, at full sprint, right behind the pod. The descending gate, however, was a bit of a problem. “Yfrett… Frett! FRETT!!!” She panted as she dove for the debris-strewn floor, yanked her arms and wings in tight, and made a champion baseballer’s slide just under the gate, an instant before the force fields energized. “GAH!!” Miiya cried out as a bit of loose plasteel, broken from the hoverpod, clipped her thigh before she could get her wings back out and pull up. The pain was intense, but her adrenaline carried her through and she continued pursuing the now-tumbling pod as it careered down the docking corridor.
(To: The Docks)

Delfye
(From: The Airlocks and Checkpoint)
“Well...shit.” Delfye swore as the pod lost three-quarters of its remaining power. He was quite a pilot, but what was left of the conveyance hardly counted as a vehicle at this point. More like a flying falling trash heap. In any case, the sammaran shut up as he concentrated on bringing them down on-target and in one piece.

More or less…

It turned out there was not enough juice left in the cells to bring them to a complete stop. The station bulkhead--and the pod’s crumple zones, actually the pod now was one big crumple zone--did the rest. ”Okay, we’re here.” he said, kicking out the rest of the windscreen and helping a shaken, stirred, and very greenish-hued Aishe from the wreckage. ”As I was saying--oh, sorry, here.” The sammaran found his explanation interrupted the the spatter of the contents of his passenger’s stomach on the station floor. The grease rag he handed her was probably not the most appropriate handkerchief. ”Okay, come in here… sit down a minute.” Delfye opened the inner door of the airlock where a station runabout was docked.