XiC: Black Nova

 

Black Nova are a loose organizational metropolitan civic consisting of a Port Station that dimensionally contains a large popular city-sized locality within. The exterior space is located within about 2,177,819 different portapotty sized entrances scattered throughout Xi, the interior space is approximately 28 miles across its radius and 2 miles high and has become a seedy bastion for crime and illicit activity, placed alongside licensed businesses that serve alcohol, gambling, eccentric entertainment and theatre. Expensive hotels and businesses can be found on the side known as White Tower, and lavish bars, nightclubs, vending streets and shops can be found in Grey Tower. It’s a popular tourist spot among the underworld for wine tasting, recreation and procreative pleasure, but contains an unprecedented amount of trafficking. Among bars and hotels, the exiles of Xi are common customers, those wanted by law enforcement find themselves at easy reprieve within its hallowed halls. No one finds themselves turned away from Black Nova on principle, unless they’ve harmed or been disorderly with a Host and given a blackmark by a majority of the organization’s Hosts. Approximately 118,990 members from various militia and mercenary backgrounds serve as high-tech security within Black Nova, and over 460,000 either have established businesses or are employed by said businesses within.

The organization was founded by an agreement between the remnants of the Merchant Guild two centuries ago as they were losing relevance, RING and PFU as part of an agreement with dissidents from the Blackwind galactic autonomous zone (BGAZ), funding the massive technical channels and resources required to build the location in secret. The intent at the time was to build a mutual habitation zone sick of the patronizing and overreach of Star Charity’s communication networks, along with building a space away from BGAZ’s Heliacal Directorate or “Solus Rex” throughout Blackwind. As the political and economical scene has changed outside Black Nova’s space, so has the nature within. The more intensive momentum of dark higher culture and eclectic artisique has since dissipated, giving rise to crasser amenities among its accommodations.

Members of Caldera have been known to use Black Nova as a revolving door, along with smuggling rings in other Port Stations, to enter and exit off major star routes and intergalactic transport hubs away from Xi’s galactic supervision. On average Black Nova has a population of 2.6 million at any given moment, and the life supports to support an entire city’s population. Most members are Xi civilians and outcasts which are native Xi citizens, along with other residents that include outsiders of Xi such as the Hordians, Lutinans, Starjoys, Deltans and Ral. Draxorians are a hire in nearly every operation, their Blackwindish accents thick with smoke from their nostrils. The Port Station is source of cheap illicit goods and other services, a source of cheap food and shelter, a place of refuge for those escaping the law or who need a place of silence or solitude, or a space to procure illicit goods and services for trade with RING, Caldera, Blackwind, etc.

In Black Nova's history, its numerous leaders have held the title of Hosts, led by the Host Captain. The “Host” is typically responsible for the principles of hospitality that make Black Nova such a desirable spot for criminal entourage and seedy tourism. Host Captains have their own crews, security, and fleets, among other duties and authorities that are often under question and confusion. As such, Host Captains are often in close cooperation and partnership with other businesses and business dealers, as they are responsible to maintain order. Host Captains have an almost regal power and hold a degree of prominence within the organization, they’re expected to be suave, well-cultured and charismatic, and able to keep the residents who pass by within it lively excited. The Port Authority of Black Nova has two factions, the White Tower Faction and the Grey Tower Faction. Since both factions are part of the same organization, they share communication, principles and funds. However White Tower Faction is predominately for upper crust, corrupt law enforcement, political dissidents and a core focus of powerful mob-like figures. White Tower is more of a military and political centric force, with a large majority of Black Nova’s the population who support its mission of political and economic undermining of Xi, as well as providing an avenue for corruption in positions of authority. The White Tower Faction is the ruling faction of Black Nova. It is a group of hosts as enforcement that have been known to commit extortion and even murder for the betterment of the community. White Tower represents the top of the class hierarchy of the criminal underworld, requiring Host Captains to be well connected and social chameleons at galas, cocktail parties and hosted dinners for Dons and dissidents alike.

Grey Tower Faction is run by smaller businesses and holds the larger population of the masses, including tourists, regulars and bypassers. Those of the Grey sector jokingly refer the White sector as the ‘VIP’ though that is largely incorrect, it is simply a matter of prestige and preference, as Grey Tower operates with a population of seven-tenths lower ranking impoverished neutrals looking for profit and leisure. In addition, opportunities to join and become part of the extravagant White Tower Faction of the city are offered to Grey Tower populaces with ads of job offerings and service- becoming servers in lavish hotels and casinos, joining the exotic and eccentric entertainment offered of Xi’s cabaret artforms, even careers in cleaning service and sexwork are offered. Altho still a minority compared to Xi nationals, Black Nova has more than three times as many foreigners than in most major cities making it a melting pot of vastly disparate cultures looking for leisure and luxury.

The current Host Captain is the infamous, elegant "Celestial Host" Aesoptopica D’Avine, or ‘Ava Divine’ who leads the organization from a secluded high-rise on the edge of the city. With more than two decades of experience in managing Hosts and the Port Station, her ability to negotiate with a wide array of individuals from across the Galaxy combined with a reputation for treating her ‘guests’ with the utmost consideration and respect has gained her a unique reputation within Black Nova and Caldera. D’Avine has been known to provide her hosts with an assortment of illegal entertainment and narcotics such as recreational drugs, illegal pharmaceuticals, exotic foodstuffs and rare commodities such as antiques, metals, jewels and rare earths. In this manner D'Avine is both a protector and a trafficker of illegal goods and services, aswell as appreciator of fine arts, dining and hotel decor. She is famed for a restaurant she opened up by the lobby floor of the Parisa Deluxe Hotel in White Tower. She’s even developed a reputation as a procuress, procuring a network of small and large businesses that supply her and her Hosts with exotic dancers and female performers that service Black Nova’s numerous wealthy clients.

 

 

 

 

Innerview ❂Black Nova Runner

 

My job was a Ogara mineral-runner, in exchange for cheap gigs I smuggled special fuel-lubricants made from grinded, liquidated minerals illicit in tax-heavy charters of the Galaxy. To my right, I noticed a makeshift stall full of shimmering substances, manned by a grizzled weapons trader. I approached, curiosity piqued. Amid the array, he proffered a few vials of glitterdust, a potent spice hailing from the distant martian mines. Rumours were the ancient Merchant's Guild used to powder their entire headquarters with it so it smelt musky. On my left, there were Psii-boost dealers selling bootleg syringes, their neon signs throbbing with a dangerous allure.

Past the drug dealers, a cacophony led me towards the gambling pits. The air was thick with sweat and desperation, underpinned by the continuous smell of the butcher tables, where a Llavalite hangs up freshly skinned meat for purchase. Alien dialects echoed around me, their intergalactic curses punctuating the air as hands were won and lost. A mixed crowd of gamblers, from hardened criminals to the galaxy's elite negotiated and gesticulated frantically around a Galanet holoscreen. The deafening cheer as the crowd favorite zipped past the finish line was intoxicating. But my focus soon turned to the tables. The sight of an eight ball rolling around the table caught my eye, I could smell the desperation of those within the room. As the tables went on, they continued to dwindle. It became a frantic race to the finish, one ball at a time. I caught a fleeting glimpse of the player next to me, his head was dented and scarred, as if from a previous altercation. When the last 8-ball was pocketed, several men in suits took dragged him away until he was out of sight. I do hope he found closure.

I made my way back to my hotel. Exhausted from my day out, I entered the room and prepared to crash out. A few seconds later, my holoprojector screen lit up with a frantic message.

"You have been invited to our next event. Please report to the main lobby."

I quickly rose from my bed and grabbed my jacket from the back of my door. As I go down, I recall I left my ID in my shuttlepod and need to visit the bay. So I walk through the streets, more vendors try to sell me silvery garbs, some even offer to fix them for free. I ignored them all. The city skyline is an intimidating sight. The buildings soar to such a height, they appear to have been grown rather than constructed. The structures stand like giants from another age, holding their place in a world where my kind have a minority population of over nine billion and the underworld scene is the most wild in the galaxy. And the people? We are a people proud and arrogant, but our people are the least of any alien race that the human have seen. Soon I step up a massive flight of stairs, Lots underneath the landing platform. Upon ascending, I take note of clusters of cars packed as tightly as the cargo-cubes beneath me, and beyond that an expanse of liquid connected to an artificial waterfall. There are a few yachts, festively adorned with neon lights all around them. I take my ID and walk back down.

 

A vendor, a Starjoy with glinting eyes, persuades me to part with a significant portion of my remaining credits for a small, inscrutable device of High Kosmosis origin. Its purpose is unknown, but the allure of its intricate design, coupled with its mysterious past, is too tempting to resist. I remove my glove and scan my arm's barcode, subtracting credits from an offworld illicit account. The enigma purchased before me, a pink-purple-green cube is surprisingly heavy, and is the perfect size for my hand to wield comfortably. I slip the device into my jacket pocket, and proceed towards the entrance of my hotel. In the lobby, the Host Captain is waiting for me - Mervtrude Ivis-Deloris. Her reputation proceeds herself in Xi. No one has ever seen the woman in the heat of passion, but it is the consensus that she is one of the galaxy's most fearsome criminals. The only thing I knew about her before she was assigned to my visitation, was that she'd worked for the Merchant's Guild back when she was younger a few centuries back. She still insists on calling it that, even though her name is now a registered corporation selling a wide range of goods, from advanced weaponry to exotic and illicit substances. An insult to the Merchant Guild's legacy really.

 

She gave me a knowing glance, "There is someone who wishes to see you. This way." she gestures, and a small red light on the wall flashes, and a door opens onto a dimly-lit room. I don't move to enter, but instead glance over my shoulder to ask her, "Why?" Her short auburn hair bounces over her shoulderpads, the crisp shine of her kem uniform reflecting off her eye. I catch a brief look at her assets and observe the tightness her blouse, how it hugs her swinging hips. My host takes notice and smirks.

 

"This host has a way of doing things." Her reply was curt, I assume this means I have been summoned for my criminal record. Who doesn't have one here? Aren't Host-Captains supposed to be courteous and cheery? She offers to accompany me into the room, I decline, saying I have a few hours before I need to be at the rendezvous point for the next event. She forces her way in. "I told you, someone wanted to see you." Her lips press into mine. I'm soon dragged and pushed to the bed inside. She is too forceful to resist. I'm not sure how much weight her body actually has in a situation like this, but it is obvious the bed won't hold her. Her dress-slipper feet slide off the edge, and I catch her ankle, dragging her onto the bed. The Host Captain lets go of my jacket and pulls me on top of her. As I'm pinning her arms, she tries to squirm under me, her dress rides up her thighs. It's just as I thought, there is no support for her to lie with any dignity. As I start thrusting, I start laughing. I feel a coldness in my gut, something not quite felt since the battle on Iphigenia-Gamma that took the life of two drug-dealers I was working with. I push her onto her side, and slowly I withdraw. She watches me, amused, as I begin to dress.

 

Before she can leave, there's a roar of fire and sound erupting, causing me to lose my balance. A single shot is fired at the streets beyond, and then three quick more shots after that, there are vendor stands burning. I look out the window taken back by the chaos. Several men in white hazmat suits, wielding energy weapons, disperse in groups of two and three, while the rest stand on their cars, firing weapons into the sky. A crowd begin to form. I feel as though I need to get down there, get some answers. But my host is already pulling her dress over her butt-cheeks. "Incursions happen every week, stay inside. Please take this with you." She hands me her dress, and I grab it. "Stay safe, you know where I am if you need me, or any Host-Captain. If you need a good time." she replies with a wink.

 

"You're going out there?" I shudder. "Didn't know Host Captains worked with security dispatch." She pulls my hand through the fabric and gives a kiss on my palm. "Course not. Well maybe some, not me. I do the one thing an excellent host is meant to, even in a scumhole like this." And saunters her way to the door.

 

"Make guests feel good." she grins over her shoulder at me, "Hosts are people too, but we're people with jobs. And I'm very good at my job" And then she is gone.

I turn around, minutes later she's reassuring the crowd with free booze and a mic in hand. The incursion has turned into a child's spectacle. She's unafraid, clearly having dealt with this nonsense a million times. Mervtrude picks up a spatula while guards are running past her, stepping over a dead smoking body and grilling casually.

 

I retreat and slowly close the curtain, the sirens already dying down. Just another day at Black Nova.

The little cube I bought earlier starts to beep when I take it out of my pocket. "W-what the-" It flashes. Neon green begins coating me head to toe, an influx of rubbery synthskin overlaying my exterior in a sheath of latexy resin. Overlaying my mind, my thoughts, I drown in obedience. "Crap. Crap. Crap." I think. I'm being so damn compliant. I'm being so fuckin' easy, as the little device grows into an arm that reaches out towards me, climbing over me and flooding more slickness. My limbs flail like they do when sleep deprived, The cube is making itself at home in my chest as it merges. The shine seals my face, and with it my identity. Everything goes silent to the hum of conformity and compliance, a drone built for service. Time is deprived of all meaning when men take me away. I'm cargo.. And I'm going along for the ride.