Urokai takes out a small cloth to wipe his eye before popping it back into the socket to continue staring intensely at the monitor. He had never been good at the science stuff, even back in his Union days, but something about whatever data was stolen from the Lexda base continues to distract him, like an elusive itch. Rows and rows of numbers and symbols and lines he's never seen before and bars of color, and he could just chalk it up to him being stupid and bad at science and math if it isn't for the strange feeling that he should know what all of this means. The feeling sticks to him like humid air. Like any of this is supposed to be familiar to him at all.
"Weird, right?" Zarga nods at the screen.
"You feel it too?"
"Yeah. Glad I'm not the only one. Thought I was starting to go insane from having to deal with you guys all the time."
Urokai's face momentarily creases unflatteringly in irritation. "Well, I can't understand any of this," he says. "It's probably not that important right now anyway," though he can't shake the feeling that it is.
"Right." Zarga sighs. "Let's just focus on finding Frankenstein then. He'll figure out what that is."
Urokai nods.
Raizel feels the weight of the sleek, white gun in his hand, he aims, he fires, he misses, utterly. The holographic practice target remains standing tall and arrogant. He tries again. And again.
He sighs. Raizel had not realized that such type of combat requires more precision than he is used to. His powers had always been so grand, so sweeping and overwhelming, that he never had to worry much about precise aiming or footwork or movement. The Noblesse would stand in the sky as if the very heavens bowed down to him as he sentenced those whom he had judged in his arbitrary ways, reading souls like data presented to him in an open book. How arrogant.
Raizel is not him, never wanted to be him. He takes aim, he fires. The white, featureless practice target clutches at its chest as it stumbles over.
The Noblesse had died a long, long time ago.
M-21 claps. "Nice." He walks over the control panel on the wall. "Now, how about you try your hand at moving targets?"
Raizel gives him a determined nod.
"Are you stupid?"
"Definitely."
Ignes leans in her seat, throwing her arm over the back as she stares at the cute pink box Muzaka has pushed in front of her, the gold foiled wolf head logo staring back at her. "Why?"
"Why not?" Muzaka smiles, earnestly, and for some reason, it irks Ignes. "Not having tried one of my cakes is a crime in and of itself." He looks to a nearby guard. "Is she allowed to eat here?"
"If the gift has already been approved by security, then there's no reason she can't if it's appropriate to eat it."
"Great!" He turns back to Ignes, eyes wide and excited. "So…?"
Ignes sighs, only a little irritated at seeing that dumb werewolf grin, a grin she should have gotten rid of when she had the chance while experimenting on him back on Earth. She reaches forward and opens the box, the sides unfolding and falling flat, revealing a round cake decorated with red flowers and a small, plastic fork. She cuts into the cake and tries a piece. It is tenderly sweet, the icing soft. She looks down at the remaining cake. "...It's good," she admits.
Muzaka laughs, placing his chin in his fingers. "As expected."
A short silence passes. "Why?" Ignes asks, looking at him as if he's a strange, dumb riddle.
Muzaka raises his eyebrows. "You keep asking that. Maybe I just want to. Maybe I just like giving people cakes." He shrugs. "Nothing wrong with a little extra goodwill here and there."
"You say that as if I deserve it."
"Maybe you do, maybe you don't. To be honest though, you're one of the biggest bitches I know, and that's coming from a dog such as myself." Muzaka waves his hand, gesturing to himself in mock flattery before chuckling. "Doesn't change the fact that I made and brought you this cake, so enjoy it a little, will you?"
Ignes presses the fork into the cake again. "That's stupid."
"Well, I'm stupid, remember?"
Ignes sighs and finishes the rest of the cake. That night, in her lonely cell, she wonders if she would ever have anything as sweet as that again. She wonders if her father would have done something like that for her. He probably would have.
"M-21, Sir Raizel, will you join us for breakfast?"
"Huh? Oh, yeah." M-21 shuts off the training simulation as Raizel stops firing.
Raizel looks at Urokai. "You would like me to join?"
"Yes! Of course, Sir Raizel. Food's already on the table." Urokai smiles.
Raizel blinks and then smiles softly in return.
"Alright, good news, it's confirmed that they're definitely not trying to kill Frankenstein." Zarga sits down at the round, white dining table with the rest of the crew. He places the fresh coffee next to his... "Urokai, what is this?"
"Eggs, I think. I just found them in the fridge."
Zarga pokes at the squishy, pink substance with his fork before reaching for the salt. "Anyway, apparently, they're having him work on some big project, something to do with souls and nobles."
"His specialty," M-21 adds.
"Location is somewhere around the Star Goliath." Zarga cuts at his egg. "He's not allowed to roam much outside the facility and he's accompanied at all times, so it's unlikely he can just waltz outside for us to pick him up."
"So, what's the plan?"
"You tell me. They'll shoot us down the moment they recognize any of us or the ship."
The crew silently put their collective minds together to come up with something, the only sound being the sound of silverware on plates.