THE EXPANSE: Whispers From Above (Expanse/Flying Circus AU quest)

It comes blurting out.

"What happened to you out there?"

James Holden looks terribly lost for a while. "I, uh…" He rubbed the back of his neck. "We think I stroked out, during the last hard burn. I think the CMO of my ship managed to save me…but then when the Cant went down, I was ejected while I was out. Naomi found me drifting in my suit."

"Wow, I didn't realize…"

"That's not the worst of it. Maybe it was the stroke, or too long without oxygen in the suit. I…have…I have memory problems now. Docs can't figure it out. I wake up, every day, and I swear it's still the leadup to the battle. Like nothing's changed. I have to be…reminded. Every day. About everything that's happened since then." He sits down at the table, and hunches forward. "Naomi takes a lot of notes."

"Oh," you whisper, feeling the air rushing out of you, and pity exploding inside of you. "Nothing?"

"It's weird. Some days it's easier, stuff is familiar even if it's new. I don't remember getting married, but it feels like it's been decades. I don't remember coming here, but it already feels like home. I don't remember that we have a kid, but she's… she…" Holden looks lost and confused for a few more seconds - but then you can see him literally building himself back up again. His shoulders square. He lifts his chin. He smiles. "Hey," he says. "I…think of it like this. I get to fall in love with Naomi again every single day, and learn everything about Wulfe that makes me proud all over."

You want to burst into tears and hug him and run away and- just…everything. You gulp, past the lump in your throat. "Sorry."

"Don't be," he says, firmly. You nod, your eyes shining.

"Well. Um. D…Do…do you have any advice?" you croak around the lump in your throat - trying to act normal and brave like him, like James Holden, he's so brave ahhhhhh! "Since, I mean…we're going to be pulling a James Holden and all." You tried for a smile while your eyes glitter.

James Holden smiles, slightly. "Are you lucky?"

You blink at him.

"Yeah," you say. "I mean…" He's told you the truth. You have to do the same. "I got Arren, don't I?"

James Holden smiles, gently, at you. "Then you've got all the advice you need." He steps forward. "But, also, when a firefight starts, don't take cover in anything thin - even if it looks metal. Concealment doesn't matter as much as stopping the rounds. Fortunately, most people aren't shooting anything that'll blow holes through bulkheads. Next, if you're in a space battle, do not underestimate just how effective a well run point defense grid is. The guns shoot themselves, but good target selection and prioritization makes all the difference. And!" He leaned in and you mentally took notes.

And tried not to cry.



HEINRICH


Being back together with Jos…er, that is, as partners, no, uh…as…coworkers…it did have some upsides. While you were both crammed onto a people mover that could ship from Sigdrifa to Hingabe without too many questions and a limited amount of up front capital, you had gotten a chance to catch up on your favorite celebrity gossip feeds while Jos was being violently ill in his sick bag.

"I hate space," Jos groaned.

"You live in space, setara mali," you say, without looking up from the latest feed.

"I'm a city Belter," Jos mutters and ducks his head forward between his legs, breathing shallowly as the ship rumbled and shook under a course correction. The interior of the room was essentially a set of six rows of chairs, a bunch of sleeping nooks on the walls that could be closed and sound proofed (badly) and there were a double set of doors leading back to the cafeteria, and the steam showers. The whole place was designed to cram a bunch of people in and if the pressures of close confinement got too intense during the days of travel, they'd gas you all and then separate out trouble makers.

It was not a very nice spaceship.

Fortunately, you had your feeds.

"You still read that trash?" Jos asks.

"I wouldn't trust you to understand the intense pleasure to come from parasocial engagement with heightened drama - the vicarious romantic thrills, the imagined conquests of heart and home, the victories, the defeats, the bitter sting of betrayal, all delivered with enough remove for me to enjoy it emotionally, without-"

Jos leans over and cuts you off. "Hedi Wagner caught in bed with her manager," he reads. "That's a recording, they stuck a camera in that lady's bedroom."

"I'll have you know, they didn't stick a camera in there," you say, huffily, scrolling past hastily. "...she was filming herself and the film got leaked."

"Not exactly winning any quiz shows, huh?"

"Hedi is…not…dumb," you say, trying to not sound irritated as irritation exploded through you. "She cares about people."

"Not her wife, though," Jos says.

"It's complicated!" you say, flushing. "Now! Let's see…" You looked back at the feed, skimming past, shaking your head. "A lot of this seems juicy, but the trick is to try and figure out what's real - like this?" You point at a bold, underlined headline: CUCKED BY HIS ENEMY: JAMES HOLDEN, ALIVE ON BRIGANTI! LIVING WITH MARCO INAROS' EX WIFE!? Read More to find out!

"You sure, sounds juicy," Jos says, his voice sarcastic. "And so believable."

"Oh ha ha," you mutter. You shift and settle back in the seat. "Okay. We're a day out from Hingabe. Our light lag latency is pretty low - we should start thinking about how we're going to investigate this."

"Well, my plan was to call up my old friend, Semi," Jos says.

"I'm pretty sure he was my friend first," you say.

"He gave me the hat," Jos says, frowning at you.

"Yeah, but he said he liked me more first," you say.

"And yet, here I am, with the hat," Jos says, pointing at himself, before turning it around and prodding your chest with it. "Before I gave it to you, kid."

You scowl at him as his finger. "Don't call me kid."

"Never stopped you calling me setera mali." Jos says, casually. You feel anger and bubbling inside you. Not anger bubbling, but anger and bubbling - an emotion you don't quite want to define yet. Your skin feels too tight as Jos turns and…he's so fucking hot at this angle? The sad puppy dog face, looked at side long, becomes a knife you just want to lick. "...or Daddy."

Your face flushes. "Well, you're not getting that again."

"Am I?" he looks at you, smirking.

—
Okay, how to begin your investigations. Both before you arrive and when you do.
[ ] hit up YOUR old friend, Semi, who is your friend first and not Jos' friend first - first online, and if he wants, IRL. See if he's heard anything about this Captain Polanski and their Scopulai.
[ ] Keep less people involved - go straight for the resellers and hit the bricks. Talk to people and keep moving.
[ ] Drag Muller into a cubbyhole and fuck his brains out.
[ ] Write In

You pull out your handheld and tap up your contacts.

"Calling Semi?" Jos asks.

"Yeah, I'm calling my friend," you say, frowning as the connection request buzzes in your hand. The connection blinked on and the smiling, dark features of Sematimba appeared, shrunk down in the palm of your hand. He beams at you.

"Well, well, if it isn't the prodigal son! Heinrich, what are you doing back around Hingabe?" he asked, curiously. "Looking to get some ships on the cheap or chasing a case?"

"The later, actually," you say, after waiting a beat to make sure that you've got enough lead up on the lightlag. Jos leans in and looks over your shoulder. "We're wondering if we could call upon your refined and dignified talents to-"

"Holy shit, is that Müller?" Semi says, too shocked to remember lagiquette.

"Hey Semi," Jos says with a tired smile, while Semi says, over him:

"Who the hell let that cradle robber within ten meters of you?"

"I'm hurt," Jos says, frowning, while Semi reacts with an eye roll to an expression he had seen a few seconds before - jarringly out of step. You put your hand on Jos' face, gently pushing his head back and away from the camera before he messes this up anymore. You wait…and then see Semi waiting for you. You sigh, then speak, slowly and carefully and very, very precisely.

"We are not anything. We are not together. I am on a case and Müller here is assisting me, as much as we'd all prefer he not." You nod. "I'm looking for a ship that went missing - the Scopulai, captain'd by Lionel Polanski."

Semi frowned. "Just a second."

His handheld connection breaks.

You tuck your handheld back into your pocket, turning to scowl at Jos.

"Your friend, huh?"

"I didn't realize he'd taken our relationship so seriously," Jos mutters.

"You never told me he was upset with the fact we were dating," you say.

"I never thought you'd want to be bothered by it, and if he didn't say anything to you…" Jos shrugged, spreading his hands as wide as he could in the narrow confines of your shared space on the people mover. "He didn't get it, I didn't push it."

"Did you at least tell him I moved on you?" you ask, feeling…faintly offended, like Semi had thought you were a little baby that needed his protecting.

"Yeah, that'll be convincing," Jos says, grinning at you sidelong. Your heart skips a beat and you chuckle.

"You weren't hard to convince," you say.

"And yet, here we are, sitting together in this POS, not on some cruise liner running for the gardens of Geirdriful…" Jos says, wistfully.

"That's cause we're broke as shit. Now and then." You lean your head against his shoulder without thinking and, without thinking, Jos slides his arm around your shoulders. You both freeze at the same second - snapped back to the present by your handheld chirruping. Semi was connecting again. You jerked away from Jos as if he was red hot and nearly brained a sleeping Believer on the seat next to you. Fortunately, you managed to jerk your arm around before hitting his jaw - and snatched your handheld from your pocket.

Semi was calling from a dark, quiet room - no background noise at all.

"You're not the first people to ask about Lionel," Semi says. "What the hell are you two mixed up in? This shit has Goths involved."

"Goths?" you ask, sitting up.

"...okay, I can't prove they're Goths. Officially, they're representatives from FVM Security - but I've checked, that corporation started up less than a year ago. But they have a bunch of military grade guns and a bunch of big packages they've moved on station - stuff that I'd bet my old hat were power armor components." He frowned. "They've been turning this whole station upside down looking for her."

"Lionel's a girl?" you ask, your brains skittering to a stop.

"No, Lionel Polanski is who registered the ship - she was brought in by a girl. Lyse. Nice kid. I have her hidden away - she…looked lost and scared and confused and said some guys were after her." Semi spread his hands. "Next thing I know, I'm lying to some legbreakers from FVM and Lyse hasn't had a chance to stick her head out of the flophouse I've stuck her in."

You and Jos exchange a look.

"What does Lyse look like?" you ask.

"Pretty," Semi says, smiling wryly. "Erder, without a doubt."

You frown, then tap at your handheld. "Does she look like this?"

"...yeah that's her," Semi says, looking at his own interface - at the picture you'd just sent. "She's got a new haircut, and different outfit, though."

The picture of Julia Sigaurd Theler-Mao.

"Who is this girl?" Semi asks. "And what do the Goths in disguise want her for?"

"How do you know they're Goths?" Jos asks, scratching at his narrow jaw, right where you used to kiss him after shaving. "They could be ex-League, right? Or HCR Marines? Or just some OPA toughs who raided the right arms depot?"

"The thinly disguised scorn was my first clue, the second was the big ass death's head tattoo on one of their wrists," Semi said. "Say what you will about Goths, but clever isn't one of them." He smirked, slightly. "So. Can you please clue me in on what the fuck I stuck myself into this time? And are you going to make it better or…or so much worse?"

Jos shrugs and looks apologetic.

—
What do you do?
[ ] Tell Semi everything you know - that she's the daughter of a billionaire on Erde who is up to her neck in the OPA.
[ ] Tell Semi part of the truth - she's an OPA agent related to what happened on the Donnager and that's why the Goths are interested.
[ ] Tell Semi nothing over the phone, just tell him to be ready to get you to Julia right when you arrive
[ ] Write In

You sigh, then lean back. "It's…maybe gonna be a bit worse, setera mali," you say, softly. "...she's OPA."

"Fuck." Semi purses his lips.

"...and she's related to whatever happened on the Donnager. And that's why the Goths are interested."

"Fuck."

You sighed. "Yeah."



The docks at Hingabe aren't bustling like you'd expect. But you'd spent most of your life on Sigfrida, where even after the War, hundreds of thousands of people cycle in and out of the station at all times - but even before the War, Hingabe was already shifting away from being the forefront of the Inner Belt. It had started out as being a competitor to Sigfrida, back when there had been a tearing need for ships to exploit the newly opened up reaches of the solar system. But as ships got built and the asteroids had been hollowed out around Hingabe, the pressures of commerce had shifted.

Now, it was dying - and it clung to life by the only thing it had over Sigfrida.

You came to Sigfrida for trade.

You came to Hingabe for pleasure. Cheap, easy pleasure that you couldn't get anywhere else in the solar system - but even that wasn't really doing as much to keep the place alive as it used to, with traffic way down since the War. That was why you stepped out into a huge, open area that had dozens of brightly glowing signs aiming you towards a few dozen tunnels and side passages, each of them announcing which casino, brothel or theater you could get to…and why, also, nearly every sign had a big 50% going out of business sign on it.

If it wasn't shut down.

Jos stood beside you, narrowing his eyes as he swept his gaze back and forth, back and forth. He caught on something - nodding. "There's FVM, just like Semi said."

There were three security goons keeping an eye on everything, dressed in heavy looking armor that could have come right from Star Helix. Their logo is a wide pig-face, spraypainted on the black armor in gaudy golden pain. You frown a bit, then mutter to Jos. "What do you think the pig means?"

"Meat for the machine, Engles, just meat for the machine," Jos says, sounding tired. "Goths love that shit."

You snort. "Self destructive idealization of death and warfare, an inherently dead end philosophy. But pigs aren't anything like normal Goth symbols…"

"Yeah, that'll stop them killing you, stop looking at them," he says. One of the Goths is glaring right at you and you turn your back on him. "They're in disguise - it's not a Goth symbol. But it's totally Goth."

You shrug. "Where's Semi?" You try and put the FVM assholes out of your mind - it wasn't like they were hustling over to take you under arms. For all you knew, the Goths back on Sigfrida had barely any idea what you looked like, let alone sent the information here. For all you knew, they had your exact biometrics down to a T and were going to sweep in and grab you any second now. But then you and Jos spot the same thing, at the same time.

"Check-" Jos says.

"Hey-" you say at the same time. You glance at one another.

"I saw it first," Jos says.

You grin. He grins.

It's nice.

And the two of you amble off, as if heading to one of the not-quite closed down yet casinos - and you glance subtly over your shoulder. One of the FVM assholes is ambling after you. You casually kick the small hat that had been left hanging on a stud near the corridor, Semi's little hint to you, over as if it was nothing. People crowd in behind you and, the moment you and the FVM guy break eyeline, you grab Jos' hand and drag him into the niche between two casinos - a space normally meant for maintenance workers and licensed hookers. Your chests press together and Jos girns down at you.

Your heart beats fast as you turn - pressing your cheek against the crook of his neck, feeling the hard bump of his chin against the top of your head. The FVM asshole keeps walking past, hurrying forward, canting his head back and forth like he's trying to spot you through the crowd. You breathe out, slowly, and then nuzzle against Jos. "Lost him," you say, softly.

"Yeah." Jos says.

You and he look up into one another's eyes.

Your cheeks heat. "Come on."

Semi is right at the chain you and Jos expected him - the Hingabe branch of a chain that ran on Sigfrida's. Of course, thanks to the changes in supply lines and the war, the chain itself looked like it was cooking an entirely different cuisine than it used to - but that didn't matter. Red kibble was, at the end of the day, red kibble and as you and Jos sat to either side of Semi, he was polishing off his bowl.

"Were you followed?" he asked.

"And a good morning to you too, Semi," Jos says.

"Were you followed?" Semi glares, coldly, at Jos.

"No, the kid got us out of the way," Jos says.

You frown at him - and Semi shakes his head. "You two still feel like you should be against some kind of a law," he says, then leans back in the stool that he's using - hooking his fingers under the edge of the counter to keep from falling backwards. "So. I'm guessing you two want to meet your OPA contact?"

You nod. "Yeah," you say. "People are dying for this and we're here to find out why." You smile. "You always said you wanted adventure, right Semi?"

"That was because I was an idiot kid who thought being a cop meant catching bad guys," Semi said, then stood. "Come on."

The three of you head through narrow back connections - sideways junctions that slot together corridors that had never meant to be connected back when the station was new and made some kind of logical, rational sense. Doors opened and closed behind you and you walked in silence, looking back over your shoulder repeatedly to make sure you weren't being followed…but despite not seeing anyone, you felt a crawling suspicion that the FVM goons on the street were just the flashy, obvious weapon - while the knife was waiting in another.

Your sense of growing doom only got higher as you, Semi and Jos came to a flophouse in the worst part of the station. Semi walked, casually, past a body you were fairly sure was several hours dead, curled up under some trash and jackets - and then came to the front doors of the flophouse. You slip inside, with Jos taking up the rear. There's no one here, save for a woman at the front desk. She nods to Semi, Semi nods to her, and the three of you head up to the narrow corridors of the place. You can hear quiet groaning from one of the rooms.

Then, at last, Semi comes to a room that looks like it has a screen on, showing some entertainment feed from the amount of white light shining under the door. He raps twice.

The door opens.

And you and Jos look in at the bright, shining eyes of Julia Sigaurd Thele-Mao, back lit by a shimmering blue-white light.

She looks mildly terrified.

And you can guess why, considering it looks like her room is on fire.




ISA


You, Minna, Wulf and Arren walked away from James Holden's hole with full backpacks and determination on the mind. At least…you had determination. You were filled with it, from your toes to your gills. Your hands tightened on the packs, while Wulf slouched along and grumbled.

"Mom could have at least tried hacking the computer," she said, shaking her head.

"Hey, our computer," Arren said.

"Technically, it is Herja military property," Minna said, quietly. "Even if the congressional republic is currently defunct." She sighed at that. "What is our plan?"

"We're going to Hingabe," you say, firmly. "We're going to find whoever sold the Dreki, aka, the Scopulai. Then we're going to figure out why a bunch of Goths are willing to set the whole solar system on fire to get it. Then…" You nod. "We're going to stop them."

"...we're going to stop them," Wulf says, slowly.

"Yeah," you say, blushing. It had seemed really cool and heroic when you'd thought it upa after your conversation with James Holden. Now you were realizing you might have maybe wanted to workshop it a little. "Like…they're obviously up to something bad! A-And…we have a gunship." Your voice is soft. "We can do something about it. Just like your Dad."

Wulfe's ears do a cute little twitch. Then she laughs, softly. "All right. Sounds fun."

"I'm down," Arren said, nodding.

"Yes," Minna said. "This seems like an excellent plan to me. Firstly, there is the fact that anything the Goth forces plan, such as they can be said to have a plan, would be a net negative for all of society. Secondly, there is the fact that they would already dislike us, as we have destroyed their prize warship. And thirdly…t-there is the fact…I am quite bad at being a merchant." She flushed, looking aside. "So, being a mercenary is a far better option."

"Not mercenary," Wulfe said. "If we were mercs, someone would be paying us. We're more…concerned citizens."

"Vigilanties," Arren suggested.

"Superheroes!" Wulfe said, brightening.

"Don't go too far," you say, laughing as you came to the docking area of Briganti Station. The gunship was there, waiting for you - and after you pulled yourself through the webwork of connective tissue, the airlock opened and inside, you found Shed, Amos, and Alex, none of them having shot anyone or gotten killed in the meantime. You beamed as you pushed aboard, feeling a strange rush of homecoming as you swung around into the now familiar antechamber before the belly airlock, while Wulfe came in to clasp Amos' hand.

"How's the old man? Still dead?" Amos asks, casually.

"Yeah, he's doing okay," Wulfe says. "All things considered."

You frown a bit at Amos - he has…brain problems, he's not dead. But then Alex is taking your hand, shaking it with a grin. "Welcome back, Cap," he says. "Er…Co-Cap, I guess."

"Thanks," you say. "...how long would it take us to get to Hingabe?"

"At one G?" Alex asks, scratching his jaw. "A two or three days, maybe less. The orbits work out pretty good for us - and the nice thing about one G is it gets you pretty much anywhere real quick. But-"

"One G is fine," you say, firmly. "Arren and I gotta work on our Erde legs."

"Yay…" Arren says, mock dryly.

"There's just one thing. Hingabe is a more, uh…official style station," Alex says. "We can't tool up there in this ship - it's registered to the HCRN…"

"That's where this comes in," Wulf says, aligning her backpack around, tugging out a collection of thin wafers and crystal chips and computer gear. "Mom bunged it together for me. We can use this to redo the IFF codes and transponder on this sucker - complete with a reworked history that will pass muster."

"Really?" Shed asks, nervously.

"Yeah, I mean, not before the War, before the War, we'd get spotted in five seconds - but since the War's made checking ships way harder, we're easy," Wulfe says, grinning. "Now, what do we call it? Mom shot down my first name suggestion of Wulfe's Harem Love Boat…"

"Aww, Patches," Amos says. "Didn't know you wanted my ugly mug like that."

"Nah, it's just those three," Wulfe says, jerking her thumb at you and Mina and Arren. Your face goes all hot even though she's joking and your heart hammers. Minna huffs.

"Since…that…won't be the name," you say, trying to…ha ha, what a joke, she's such a kidder, just…joking! Yes! That was the tone you were going for. "I'm open to suggestions."

"The Screaming Dragon!" Alex says.

Shed shakes his head.

You think.

—
What ship name?
[ ] Write In