Anaxileah
From the Depths of Hell
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Futuristic Junkers (IC)
Hercynia
Island of Thoughts
Komra turned away from Akra as she left the bridge with a miniscule, neatly-disguised frown upon her features as she poked at the screen she'd shown to her Captain, metal fingers clicking upon the delicate material before she pushed it away. Mingle with the crew, indeed - but somebody had to fly the ship, especially out from a dock. Autopilot was all well and good in space, but here? There was most certainly no way Komra would risk the chance of something going wrong - and no way Akra would ever forgive her if it did. Still, a few minutes couldn't hurt. Or she could just... sit here. That worked too.
Her lips pursed as Komra weighed the options against eachother, before letting out a quiet sigh and unmuting her communicator. "Anyone who isn't on the ship, we're taking off soon. Better not to outstay our welcome, we don't have the longest launch window." A pause before the tall woman shifted, making herself more comfortable in her chair as she alternated between tugging and pushing screens around her. A moment was spared for a quick smile at and caress of the small collection of plants at her side, tucked into a cozy nook in the bridge beside her chair, before she pulled down a large screen over them.
It took a moment before it flickered on, orbital paths and ship schedules popping up - information fed to the screen from the datalink with the starport authority. To miss their launch window meant another long while stuck docked, which meant more money paid to the port, and meant less time everybody could be distracted doing their jobs - which was downright dangerous, in some cases. Better to have an occupied crew. Still, Komra wasn't going to leave anyone behind - better to pay more in docking fees and face the potentially dangerous results of crew boredom than to leave without a crewmember.
Of course, ideally, that wouldn't happen at all.
Anaxileah
@ Everyone
Her lips pursed as Komra weighed the options against eachother, before letting out a quiet sigh and unmuting her communicator. "Anyone who isn't on the ship, we're taking off soon. Better not to outstay our welcome, we don't have the longest launch window." A pause before the tall woman shifted, making herself more comfortable in her chair as she alternated between tugging and pushing screens around her. A moment was spared for a quick smile at and caress of the small collection of plants at her side, tucked into a cozy nook in the bridge beside her chair, before she pulled down a large screen over them.
It took a moment before it flickered on, orbital paths and ship schedules popping up - information fed to the screen from the datalink with the starport authority. To miss their launch window meant another long while stuck docked, which meant more money paid to the port, and meant less time everybody could be distracted doing their jobs - which was downright dangerous, in some cases. Better to have an occupied crew. Still, Komra wasn't going to leave anyone behind - better to pay more in docking fees and face the potentially dangerous results of crew boredom than to leave without a crewmember.
Of course, ideally, that wouldn't happen at all.
Anaxileah
@ Everyone
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
"Some place interesting," replied Lauren softly just before I:SILME excused herself. For a couple of seconds Lauren continued to look upon the ship before recomposing herself.
She made her way onboard relatively quickly, exchanging nods to the others that she passed- including the captain herself- before making her way to the Sunspear's bridge.
Once there Lauren seated herself in front of her station. Unlike the other desks and stations Lauren's was very spartan and utilitarian with its clean appearance and next to no decorations or signs of personalization.
As she adjusted herself to sit more comfortable Lauren grabbed the case she had been carrying and placed it on the desk in front of her. Carefully she opened it and relieved it of its contents which was, in this case, several smaller datachips containing the brand new star-charts.
With a smile Lauren inserted the first chip into her station and began to ran a security check on its contents. Lauren then leaned back and drummed her fingers against the metal desk while her eyes remained locked to the screen in front of her.
She made her way onboard relatively quickly, exchanging nods to the others that she passed- including the captain herself- before making her way to the Sunspear's bridge.
Once there Lauren seated herself in front of her station. Unlike the other desks and stations Lauren's was very spartan and utilitarian with its clean appearance and next to no decorations or signs of personalization.
As she adjusted herself to sit more comfortable Lauren grabbed the case she had been carrying and placed it on the desk in front of her. Carefully she opened it and relieved it of its contents which was, in this case, several smaller datachips containing the brand new star-charts.
With a smile Lauren inserted the first chip into her station and began to ran a security check on its contents. Lauren then leaned back and drummed her fingers against the metal desk while her eyes remained locked to the screen in front of her.
Athanas
You needed someone to blame, so you cast it on me.
Cerval heard Isilme long before the android made her way to him and Mya.
Well, heard was a bit of a misleading term, as it implied she was loud enough to cause some ungodly ruckus. No, it was none of that. Instead, his senses were suddenly assaulted by the sudden euphoria any contraption of superb quality brought him. For a few seconds, he seemed to lose track of Mya entirely, closing his eyes and moving his hands to a rhythm only he seemed to be able to hear.
However, he was able to kick the high quickly-It was a skill he'd developed painstakingly during the last year, as he assumed it probably made her feel uncomfortable. Which was an amusing thought all the same, but alas. He raised an eyebrow at her comment regarding the source of overbearing energy being parts of a "pet project, which the suit visor did it's best to imitate. "Pet project? No offense, but trying to fiddle around with something this powerful without engineering knowledge is...Well, let's just say, she's gonna feel right at home!" He chuckled a little at his jab, before he caught her next question. Against his better judgement, he could not help but tease the android a little. Standing upright in spite of the weight, he took a step forward, his tremendous bulk towering menacingly over her. "Indeed, Isilme. I have taken many beautiful engines of destruction and chaos, which I plan to use...Indiscriminately! And since you asked, I shall now demonstrate their destructive power... I hope the alloy is as durable as you think it to be!" Imposingly, he drew what seemed to be a large spherical device with two handles, pointed it at her, and pressed an ominous button.
The device sputtered weakly and produced two weak sparks with a pitiful noise. He broke into a small fit of laughter, giving her a playful jab on the shoulder. "No...No, but you should've seen your face! I didn't know Androids could make such expressions! You are right though, let's head inside. Between Komra and the captain, I'm really not sure which one'd have our heads first if we dally. Tag along, I want to show you some of that stuff."
With that he turned towards the ship, motioning for both of them to follow. He gave Dave a two-finger salute as he greeted them by the entrance. Dave was a fun lad. Absolutely, positively unhinged, but who was he to judge?
He finally made his way onto the lower engineering deck, where he spent most of his time-He'd given Click full reign of the main one, since he might need to focus on more crucial things than random contraptions of somewhat questionable value. It was somewhat messy and unruly-spare parts could be seen lying around, a bunch of vials seemed to have shattered and a purplish liquid had made a small pool at the base of a workbench. A portion of the wall bore clear marks of shrapnel, and the floor had dents and scorch marks. A haphazardly drawn schematic appeared to portray a planet exploding spectacularly. Perhaps most worryingly of all, however, there was writing on one of the walls. It was written in a Red-green substance, in truly abysmal handwriting. Most of it was Illegible, and yet more of it seemed to be nonsensical symbols or drawings of no inherent meaning. What little could be deciphered read:
"THEY ARE COUNTLESS, YET THEY ARE ONE"
"THE LIGHT IS BLINDING"
"THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE-"
"YOU THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE IF YOU TOOK AWAY ALL 8?"
"01001001 00100000 01001011 01001110 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001001 01010100 00100111 01010011 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101"
Cerval huffed nervously as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse, before abandoning the cause altogether and simply setting the items on another bench. Picking up the device again, he began connecting it to what seemed like a very large battery. "So, I've been thinking-Most of you fine fellows are well versed in whatever subject you fancy, and even if I wanted to, there's not much I'd be able to do to help with that. However! I can't help but notice your relative...Frailty. Now, Now, I understand-combat isn't really something you like doing, or plan to do-but here's the odd thing about trouble-it finds you whether or not you want it. So I went and thought "Man, the personal shield offered by my combat suit is rather durable, and capable of greatly increasing one's odds of survival. What if I could get everyone one of these?" Of course, this had many problems in and out of itself, cost being the main one, difficulty of integrating it across multiple different types of hardware being another. I mean, especially you, Isilme-trying to operate on you would be like watching an ape try to defuse a bomb. Amusing, but ultimately extremely painful for both parties. Soooo....I got this little projector here. I can push down those triggers, and- a shield of considerable durability "shoots" out this end. So long as beam remains, your behind is safe from all sorts of pirate, officer, alien, and what have you. Still cost me quite a bit, but it's fine. Got some more Gizmos I'm putting together, but-that'll be the main attraction."
He finished connecting the wires, and the machine began slowly whirring to life. He turned to face them, smiling, and leaned on the bench.He spoke in a slightly exaggerated voice. "This is the part where you say "My, my, Cerval, how ingenious and simultaneously compassionate of you to protect our lives in such a manner. I shall now proceed to give you a hug and a kiss as a token of my admiration and appreciation of your tireless efforts!"....but, considering circumstances, I'm willing to accept a simple thank you as compromise." He chuckled again, clearly elated. He liked helping his friends out, after all.
Nebulous Stars
Epiphany
Well, heard was a bit of a misleading term, as it implied she was loud enough to cause some ungodly ruckus. No, it was none of that. Instead, his senses were suddenly assaulted by the sudden euphoria any contraption of superb quality brought him. For a few seconds, he seemed to lose track of Mya entirely, closing his eyes and moving his hands to a rhythm only he seemed to be able to hear.
However, he was able to kick the high quickly-It was a skill he'd developed painstakingly during the last year, as he assumed it probably made her feel uncomfortable. Which was an amusing thought all the same, but alas. He raised an eyebrow at her comment regarding the source of overbearing energy being parts of a "pet project, which the suit visor did it's best to imitate. "Pet project? No offense, but trying to fiddle around with something this powerful without engineering knowledge is...Well, let's just say, she's gonna feel right at home!" He chuckled a little at his jab, before he caught her next question. Against his better judgement, he could not help but tease the android a little. Standing upright in spite of the weight, he took a step forward, his tremendous bulk towering menacingly over her. "Indeed, Isilme. I have taken many beautiful engines of destruction and chaos, which I plan to use...Indiscriminately! And since you asked, I shall now demonstrate their destructive power... I hope the alloy is as durable as you think it to be!" Imposingly, he drew what seemed to be a large spherical device with two handles, pointed it at her, and pressed an ominous button.
The device sputtered weakly and produced two weak sparks with a pitiful noise. He broke into a small fit of laughter, giving her a playful jab on the shoulder. "No...No, but you should've seen your face! I didn't know Androids could make such expressions! You are right though, let's head inside. Between Komra and the captain, I'm really not sure which one'd have our heads first if we dally. Tag along, I want to show you some of that stuff."
With that he turned towards the ship, motioning for both of them to follow. He gave Dave a two-finger salute as he greeted them by the entrance. Dave was a fun lad. Absolutely, positively unhinged, but who was he to judge?
He finally made his way onto the lower engineering deck, where he spent most of his time-He'd given Click full reign of the main one, since he might need to focus on more crucial things than random contraptions of somewhat questionable value. It was somewhat messy and unruly-spare parts could be seen lying around, a bunch of vials seemed to have shattered and a purplish liquid had made a small pool at the base of a workbench. A portion of the wall bore clear marks of shrapnel, and the floor had dents and scorch marks. A haphazardly drawn schematic appeared to portray a planet exploding spectacularly. Perhaps most worryingly of all, however, there was writing on one of the walls. It was written in a Red-green substance, in truly abysmal handwriting. Most of it was Illegible, and yet more of it seemed to be nonsensical symbols or drawings of no inherent meaning. What little could be deciphered read:
"THEY ARE COUNTLESS, YET THEY ARE ONE"
"THE LIGHT IS BLINDING"
"THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE END IS NOT THE-"
"YOU THINK I WOULDN'T NOTICE IF YOU TOOK AWAY ALL 8?"
"01001001 00100000 01001011 01001110 01001111 01010111 00100000 01001001 01010100 00100111 01010011 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101"
Cerval huffed nervously as he tried to come up with a reasonable excuse, before abandoning the cause altogether and simply setting the items on another bench. Picking up the device again, he began connecting it to what seemed like a very large battery. "So, I've been thinking-Most of you fine fellows are well versed in whatever subject you fancy, and even if I wanted to, there's not much I'd be able to do to help with that. However! I can't help but notice your relative...Frailty. Now, Now, I understand-combat isn't really something you like doing, or plan to do-but here's the odd thing about trouble-it finds you whether or not you want it. So I went and thought "Man, the personal shield offered by my combat suit is rather durable, and capable of greatly increasing one's odds of survival. What if I could get everyone one of these?" Of course, this had many problems in and out of itself, cost being the main one, difficulty of integrating it across multiple different types of hardware being another. I mean, especially you, Isilme-trying to operate on you would be like watching an ape try to defuse a bomb. Amusing, but ultimately extremely painful for both parties. Soooo....I got this little projector here. I can push down those triggers, and- a shield of considerable durability "shoots" out this end. So long as beam remains, your behind is safe from all sorts of pirate, officer, alien, and what have you. Still cost me quite a bit, but it's fine. Got some more Gizmos I'm putting together, but-that'll be the main attraction."
He finished connecting the wires, and the machine began slowly whirring to life. He turned to face them, smiling, and leaned on the bench.He spoke in a slightly exaggerated voice. "This is the part where you say "My, my, Cerval, how ingenious and simultaneously compassionate of you to protect our lives in such a manner. I shall now proceed to give you a hug and a kiss as a token of my admiration and appreciation of your tireless efforts!"....but, considering circumstances, I'm willing to accept a simple thank you as compromise." He chuckled again, clearly elated. He liked helping his friends out, after all.
Nebulous Stars
Epiphany
archur
watch for the flash
"Actually, forget it." She decided. End of the day, though Fenrir was a reliable distraction, and somebody that she felt she could relate to on a level than she could ever with anybody else on the ship, Vanna knew that maybe the bloodlust, addiction to close-quarters-combat, name-hiding, and lack of emotional maturity were warning signs she should probably heed before what little sensitive emotions were sent screaming into the abyss by somebody so reckless and blunt. If she were to have this conversation like Chip had implied, it would have to be somebody she felt was more qualified to deal with other people's shit, since they had their own sorted out in the first place. A few people came to mind as she made her mental list. The A-Bot in training came to mind, Isilme. She was the inquisitive one. Maybe asked too many questions, and maybe Vanna didn't trust her in the first place for having hydraulics and circuitry instead of muscle and nerves, but she'd probably be able to fabricate the perfect lie to make her feel more comfortable around the rest of the crew. Akra was an option as well. After all, she was the captain, her CO, her handler, and in essence, her boss. She would probably want to have her crew in the most functional state of being if she could help it. Vanna learned a few things while she was squad lead, and making sure that everyone was at the very least not ready to burst was one of them. Made firefights a little easier when the team was focused on the shooting, and not whatever was going on upstairs. However, though Akra was careful about it, she had the seemingly innocuous ability to read and implant emotion into whomever she happened to be touching. She wasn't comfortable with that in the slightest, and had been making a conscious effort to not let anybody touch her, nevertheless she wore a full-body suit when on missions, and long sleeved everything when she wasn't.
Who else? Cerval briefly crossed her mind, but he was much too far gone in her eyes. Fuck Dave. Fuck him. The knight/medic/paladin(?) Myrian seemed too... distant? There's a word for somebody who put themselves away from others for personal reasons, much like her. She was sure that he never intended for that feeling to come off, but from the brisk conversation they've shared together, he seemed to very much want to talk about her, which is something she usually let other people do for themselves. She didn't like him in short, but it was never his fault to begin with. The navigator, Lauren, somebody she was supposed to work closely with as an assistant, was also somebody she didn't really want to talk to much. She reminded her too much of her past, with her attitude. An upright attitude and calm demeanor was something Vanna held close to her chest for the longest time. Look where it got her. 4 holotags that weighed heavily on her heart is what that earned her. Too young.
Clicky might... Actually, she didn't know too much about the designated engineer of the ship, asides from the fact that everyone called him... Her? It? Them. She didn't know much about them besides their name being "Click Click". Jarring, truly. She didn't care, they got the job done, and had a silly name. Whatever works. She never ventured far from, nor felt the need to venture far from: her room, the cafe, the range, and the bridge, places that weren't the engine room. Komra struck her as older than she seemed, but that didn't surprise her. Vanna, at least chipped Vanna, didn't talk much and didn't really want to get to know anybody at all, which was fine in her eyes. The ghost seemed like the type of kindly stranger you'd wonder what they were doing on their own out in the middle of the woods, before they'd smile at you, put their finger to their lips as if they've just shared some secret with you, and walk off as if nothing had happened. People aren't happy and carefree like that for no reason. She probably wasn't the best receptacle for Vanna's secrets, she seemed to have enough of her own, that floaty bastard.
That just left Cayne and Mya. Cayne seemed a wily bastard who would sooner try and massage, then "massage" her problems out than anything else. Granted, that would be fun once or twice, but not productive. She wasn't ready for that, nor did she really want that. Then there was the energy-lizard thing, Mya. She trusted Mya as far as she could throw her. Despite the fact that Mya could fly, she didn't float weightlessly because she was light. Plus, Vanna only really trusted people she could put a bullet through should things go awry. Chip? She could put a bullet into his skull, lickety-split. Akra? Sure. Isilme? Cayne? Lauren? Might have some personal protection, but wouldn't be too hard. Not to say she would kill any of her friends or close ones on a hair trigger, there's a reason as to why she has them in the first place, but after Yavin-19, trust was something you had to earn. She was sure that one of the higher ups wanted her head on a silver platter, and that's why her recon team was sent so deep as to let the enemy paint their coords. Mya was a fine person, but treachery was something that plagued her nightmares, and she wasn't comfortable sleeping with somebody that could crush her head like a watermelon a few doors down. Fenrir wasn't any better, but at least all of Fen's emotions were on her sleeve.
She had a lot to think about, and she probably just needed some alone time to think about it, preferably away from Fenrir.
"I've got to go polish my rifle." The universal 'Fuck off' the Nulhallan had provided whenever she didn't feel like explaining her sudden disappearance almost always worked when she wanted to do something by herself. She just needed time to think, and what better way to do that than to be doing literally anything that didn't require thought? Rifle cleaning usually fit the bill, but she had to go pack up ammo, wash off the stench from outside, and maybe pack something into her stomach that wasn't hyperfiber or some other tasteless energy efficient nutrient bite that she grew so accustomed to all those years ago.
Off she went to the weapons bay, where the adhoc shooting range, cqc dummy, and storage for dangerous stuff was kept. Of course, she had all-access here, to most of the stuff anyways. The main cannons on the ship were up in the bridge and separate stations anyways. This, the relatively small space which kept the small arms, heavy weapon platforms, and anti-materiel weaponry was her home away from home. She brought with her a crate full of ammunition. A few extra mags and spare rounds never hurt, and an assortment of sidearms just in case somebody's trusty pistol finally crapped out from wear always came in handy.
This relieved the tension and lightened the weight of the chip that dug into her pocket. She was so relaxed, that she decided that she'd just take off her mostly soaked cloak in her room, and just get to the nav. station so the crew could jump sooner, among other things. A quick jaunt to the bridge, and she was there to "assist" Lauren with navigating, which meant waiting until she was told they were planning to land so she could help find a suitable port. The Nullahan blended in to the bridge, just where she belonged. She glanced over to Lauren once, busy in her work, and decided that she wouldn't want to bother her while on the job.
@ Fuck your pings, literally everyone is mentioned in some shape or form.
Who else? Cerval briefly crossed her mind, but he was much too far gone in her eyes. Fuck Dave. Fuck him. The knight/medic/paladin(?) Myrian seemed too... distant? There's a word for somebody who put themselves away from others for personal reasons, much like her. She was sure that he never intended for that feeling to come off, but from the brisk conversation they've shared together, he seemed to very much want to talk about her, which is something she usually let other people do for themselves. She didn't like him in short, but it was never his fault to begin with. The navigator, Lauren, somebody she was supposed to work closely with as an assistant, was also somebody she didn't really want to talk to much. She reminded her too much of her past, with her attitude. An upright attitude and calm demeanor was something Vanna held close to her chest for the longest time. Look where it got her. 4 holotags that weighed heavily on her heart is what that earned her. Too young.
Clicky might... Actually, she didn't know too much about the designated engineer of the ship, asides from the fact that everyone called him... Her? It? Them. She didn't know much about them besides their name being "Click Click". Jarring, truly. She didn't care, they got the job done, and had a silly name. Whatever works. She never ventured far from, nor felt the need to venture far from: her room, the cafe, the range, and the bridge, places that weren't the engine room. Komra struck her as older than she seemed, but that didn't surprise her. Vanna, at least chipped Vanna, didn't talk much and didn't really want to get to know anybody at all, which was fine in her eyes. The ghost seemed like the type of kindly stranger you'd wonder what they were doing on their own out in the middle of the woods, before they'd smile at you, put their finger to their lips as if they've just shared some secret with you, and walk off as if nothing had happened. People aren't happy and carefree like that for no reason. She probably wasn't the best receptacle for Vanna's secrets, she seemed to have enough of her own, that floaty bastard.
That just left Cayne and Mya. Cayne seemed a wily bastard who would sooner try and massage, then "massage" her problems out than anything else. Granted, that would be fun once or twice, but not productive. She wasn't ready for that, nor did she really want that. Then there was the energy-lizard thing, Mya. She trusted Mya as far as she could throw her. Despite the fact that Mya could fly, she didn't float weightlessly because she was light. Plus, Vanna only really trusted people she could put a bullet through should things go awry. Chip? She could put a bullet into his skull, lickety-split. Akra? Sure. Isilme? Cayne? Lauren? Might have some personal protection, but wouldn't be too hard. Not to say she would kill any of her friends or close ones on a hair trigger, there's a reason as to why she has them in the first place, but after Yavin-19, trust was something you had to earn. She was sure that one of the higher ups wanted her head on a silver platter, and that's why her recon team was sent so deep as to let the enemy paint their coords. Mya was a fine person, but treachery was something that plagued her nightmares, and she wasn't comfortable sleeping with somebody that could crush her head like a watermelon a few doors down. Fenrir wasn't any better, but at least all of Fen's emotions were on her sleeve.
She had a lot to think about, and she probably just needed some alone time to think about it, preferably away from Fenrir.
"I've got to go polish my rifle." The universal 'Fuck off' the Nulhallan had provided whenever she didn't feel like explaining her sudden disappearance almost always worked when she wanted to do something by herself. She just needed time to think, and what better way to do that than to be doing literally anything that didn't require thought? Rifle cleaning usually fit the bill, but she had to go pack up ammo, wash off the stench from outside, and maybe pack something into her stomach that wasn't hyperfiber or some other tasteless energy efficient nutrient bite that she grew so accustomed to all those years ago.
Off she went to the weapons bay, where the adhoc shooting range, cqc dummy, and storage for dangerous stuff was kept. Of course, she had all-access here, to most of the stuff anyways. The main cannons on the ship were up in the bridge and separate stations anyways. This, the relatively small space which kept the small arms, heavy weapon platforms, and anti-materiel weaponry was her home away from home. She brought with her a crate full of ammunition. A few extra mags and spare rounds never hurt, and an assortment of sidearms just in case somebody's trusty pistol finally crapped out from wear always came in handy.
This relieved the tension and lightened the weight of the chip that dug into her pocket. She was so relaxed, that she decided that she'd just take off her mostly soaked cloak in her room, and just get to the nav. station so the crew could jump sooner, among other things. A quick jaunt to the bridge, and she was there to "assist" Lauren with navigating, which meant waiting until she was told they were planning to land so she could help find a suitable port. The Nullahan blended in to the bridge, just where she belonged. She glanced over to Lauren once, busy in her work, and decided that she wouldn't want to bother her while on the job.
@ Fuck your pings, literally everyone is mentioned in some shape or form.
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
So far so good.
The charts were updating smoothly. No errors, no malicious software and no odd properties.
Hopefully Akra would be more than pleased with this addition to the navigational system. After all, new and faster routes- not to mention the prospect of finding work on lesser known worlds- would most likely garner some form of positivity.
If the rumors were to believed this particular collection of charts were a combination of uncharted smuggling routes, classified military shortcuts and lanes used by space-nomads.
Lauren hummed to herself. While her own military career hadn't involved much clandestine cargo-hauling she did have some experience tracking down smugglers, pirates and the rare junker crew. That said, knowing how the other side functioned and operated offered a substantial advantage in her current line of work.
Then she felt it. Eyes glaring at her from behind. Lauren rolled her eyes. Vanna.
Slowly, almost in a menacing way, Lauren rotated in her chair to face Vanna. "Find anything interesting ashore?"
archur
The charts were updating smoothly. No errors, no malicious software and no odd properties.
Hopefully Akra would be more than pleased with this addition to the navigational system. After all, new and faster routes- not to mention the prospect of finding work on lesser known worlds- would most likely garner some form of positivity.
If the rumors were to believed this particular collection of charts were a combination of uncharted smuggling routes, classified military shortcuts and lanes used by space-nomads.
Lauren hummed to herself. While her own military career hadn't involved much clandestine cargo-hauling she did have some experience tracking down smugglers, pirates and the rare junker crew. That said, knowing how the other side functioned and operated offered a substantial advantage in her current line of work.
Then she felt it. Eyes glaring at her from behind. Lauren rolled her eyes. Vanna.
Slowly, almost in a menacing way, Lauren rotated in her chair to face Vanna. "Find anything interesting ashore?"
archur
Last edited:
Nebulous Stars
A Convincing Mirage
Mya felt her wife approach, although the shift in her attention was nigh imperceptible. She let the conversation between Isilme and Cerval flow past her without much comment. She would remind Cerval of that old chat they had had on laser miniguns. She couldn’t guarantee he would still be interested in the project, but she figured it was more likely than not. When Cerval made his posturing she considered bouncing him around with her tail a bit, but she could sense that the device was near useless, and frankly she was more interested in him leaving so she could have time with her wife. She did make a note in her head that she needed to remind him of her stance on threatening gestures or posturing towards Isilme soon. The lesson occasionally needed reteaching.
When he moved away, she made a move of her own towards Isilme. Mya slithered close to her wife and let her lower arms fall lightly onto her shoulders. When she spoke her voice was an airy whisper, almost more a breeze than speech, “Hi again.” For a moment she was still, and then she seemed to fall into her wife a little more, her body leaning against Isilme’s shoulders, and her hair spreading over them both. She kept her hair out of her wife’s eyes to be polite, even as the color of her hair shifted to a deep calm grey-blue, shot through with gold and blue.
For a moment Mya just let herself enjoy the more immediate presence of her wife. She had been ignoring it, but the flow of the reactor reminded her just a little of the LyrShuul she would always miss in the very currents of her being. She missed the home she had left, and it helped to remind herself of who had chosen her. Isilme was home to her, and sometimes she just needed to take a moment to soak that in. This close she could feel all the little currents of the energy that was their selves, and the way it entwined and differentiated.
Not wanting to take up too much time while the ships time in port was coming to a close, Mya pulled away. As she did, she picked Isilme up in a bridal carry in one smooth movement with her lower arms. Her hair shifted to a more orangey-gold throughout, and tucked affectionately around her wife. Half tucked under her knees, and the other half tucked under her neck, both curling around to pool together in her lap. When she spoke there was a smile in her sunshine smooth voice if you knew what to listen for, “Well I want to spend some time Around you if you don’t mind, but I wouldn’t want to keep you from anything. Where would you like to go?”
When he moved away, she made a move of her own towards Isilme. Mya slithered close to her wife and let her lower arms fall lightly onto her shoulders. When she spoke her voice was an airy whisper, almost more a breeze than speech, “Hi again.” For a moment she was still, and then she seemed to fall into her wife a little more, her body leaning against Isilme’s shoulders, and her hair spreading over them both. She kept her hair out of her wife’s eyes to be polite, even as the color of her hair shifted to a deep calm grey-blue, shot through with gold and blue.
For a moment Mya just let herself enjoy the more immediate presence of her wife. She had been ignoring it, but the flow of the reactor reminded her just a little of the LyrShuul she would always miss in the very currents of her being. She missed the home she had left, and it helped to remind herself of who had chosen her. Isilme was home to her, and sometimes she just needed to take a moment to soak that in. This close she could feel all the little currents of the energy that was their selves, and the way it entwined and differentiated.
Not wanting to take up too much time while the ships time in port was coming to a close, Mya pulled away. As she did, she picked Isilme up in a bridal carry in one smooth movement with her lower arms. Her hair shifted to a more orangey-gold throughout, and tucked affectionately around her wife. Half tucked under her knees, and the other half tucked under her neck, both curling around to pool together in her lap. When she spoke there was a smile in her sunshine smooth voice if you knew what to listen for, “Well I want to spend some time Around you if you don’t mind, but I wouldn’t want to keep you from anything. Where would you like to go?”
@snekwife,
Epiphany
Others are present but the extent to which that matters to Mya is at present minimal so like, lmao.
Epiphany
Others are present but the extent to which that matters to Mya is at present minimal so like, lmao.
Anaxileah
From the Depths of Hell
archur
watch for the flash
The former soldier raised an eyebrow at her superior as she faced her. "No, not really. Just supplies is all. Ammo, extra guns, components, the usual." She said, turning back to the newly updated host of maps Lauren picked up for their nav systems. She scrolled through some of the newer additions to their star-charts absentmindedly, something mildly interesting striking her as her hands idly played with her map. "I did pick up some pinpoint rounds, if you're interested. Virtually no drop, and paired with a guidance system, it should correct flight path, even through unfavorable conditions. Here, let me show you." Her eyes darted back and forth from the map, Lauren, and to her pocket, as she fumbled through it, trying to remember if she kept one with her, only to be reminded of the microchips in there instead.
As her fingers brushed over her inhibitors, her face darkened a bit. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I left them all back at the range. No need for distractions when we're about to take off anyways." She remarked as she hid behind her charts. Thankfully, Akra had entered the room to break whatever retort or awkward silence that might come. With her orders to the Lichstrom system given alongside that cheeky smile that spelt doom, Vanna knew this was going to be a long trip. Perhaps, she would just ignore Chip's request and put it in when she got some alone time. Having thoughts about other crew members, even trying to avoid confrontation rather than outright brushing others off felt alien to her. She just felt more comfortable when she didn't have to worry, or feel, but even that thought itself brought questions of her own stability, which she knew was fucked to begin with. In her head, she remembered her father teaching her to shoot a rifle for the first time. "Focus on the target Vanna." She took a deep breath in, then exhaled, clearing her thoughts. "Focus on the target." She murmured to herself, scouting her star-map for suitable stations to land on.
Viper Actual
Anaxileah
As her fingers brushed over her inhibitors, her face darkened a bit. "Actually, I'm pretty sure I left them all back at the range. No need for distractions when we're about to take off anyways." She remarked as she hid behind her charts. Thankfully, Akra had entered the room to break whatever retort or awkward silence that might come. With her orders to the Lichstrom system given alongside that cheeky smile that spelt doom, Vanna knew this was going to be a long trip. Perhaps, she would just ignore Chip's request and put it in when she got some alone time. Having thoughts about other crew members, even trying to avoid confrontation rather than outright brushing others off felt alien to her. She just felt more comfortable when she didn't have to worry, or feel, but even that thought itself brought questions of her own stability, which she knew was fucked to begin with. In her head, she remembered her father teaching her to shoot a rifle for the first time. "Focus on the target Vanna." She took a deep breath in, then exhaled, clearing her thoughts. "Focus on the target." She murmured to herself, scouting her star-map for suitable stations to land on.
Viper Actual
Anaxileah
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
"Don't think I've heard of pinpoint rounds before," said Lauren as Vanna trailed off. Upon realization that the actual rounds weren't present and available to be shown Lauren nodded slowly. While not the most physically adept nor the most combat-oriented member of the crew Lauren was still Lauren, meaning that she'd always look for ways to get better- if not perfect- at whatever task that might be thrown at her. In this case it meant that her average marksmanship skills could perhaps get a much needed boost.
"That's fine. You can show me later," she said just as Akra entered and gave them new orders. Lauren nodded and rotated back to face her station. "Aye-aye, Captain. Lichstrom system it is."
Glancing over her shoulder at Vanna Lauren nodded towards her assistant's station. "Find me all the possible LZ's, refueling stations and ports you can find within the system."
With her own orders having been delivered Lauren turned back towards her own screens and began to plot a course. Taking into account that there was an ongoing war made things a bit risky as an accidental jump into any military lanes or sectors could cause some highly unwanted attention. Luckily for her the updated star charts included various shortcuts with one in particular allowing the Sunspear to jump past a known military staging ground.
Lauren smirked. Perfect.
Once the route was set Lauren initiated the process of having the navigation system adapt itself to the planned jumps. Knowing the Sunspear it would go relatively fast for the system to calculate and ready itself.
"Captain, primary course plotted. We should be ready in five."
Anaxileah
archur
"That's fine. You can show me later," she said just as Akra entered and gave them new orders. Lauren nodded and rotated back to face her station. "Aye-aye, Captain. Lichstrom system it is."
Glancing over her shoulder at Vanna Lauren nodded towards her assistant's station. "Find me all the possible LZ's, refueling stations and ports you can find within the system."
With her own orders having been delivered Lauren turned back towards her own screens and began to plot a course. Taking into account that there was an ongoing war made things a bit risky as an accidental jump into any military lanes or sectors could cause some highly unwanted attention. Luckily for her the updated star charts included various shortcuts with one in particular allowing the Sunspear to jump past a known military staging ground.
Lauren smirked. Perfect.
Once the route was set Lauren initiated the process of having the navigation system adapt itself to the planned jumps. Knowing the Sunspear it would go relatively fast for the system to calculate and ready itself.
"Captain, primary course plotted. We should be ready in five."
Anaxileah
archur
enterelysium
Procession of ghosts
Click-Click
Deep in the bowels of the sunspear, Click-Click tended to the heart of the ship. The harsh industrial angles of the original build starkly contrasted with the organic lines of Uk'a nn't'alo architecture. adjustments and tinkerings, making the ship fly smoother and faster than a manufactured version. Their baby. Their arms glided from their tool sling to the weave of ceramosteel that constitutes the beating heart of the ship, patching together the changes they've made to it, and wishing it luck on the flight soon to come. They untangled themselves from the mass of wires and pipes feeding the reactor, veins and nervs all serving their purpose. Eerie shadows were cast on the walls by them, the almost-organic, uncanny valley nature of the engine room would be offputting to anyone else.
Click-click gracefully loped to the steerwell connecting this part of the ship, their home, to the rest. Bidding the soft humming and clanking that they are all too familiar with goodbye, they head upwards into the waking world.
They entered the control room, warmly casting their gaze around the room, and slowly waving at everyone. "I am back from the heart of the ship, It is steadily beating and ready for the trials ahead." they adjust the wilting flower attached to their chitinous plates much like someone would put a flower in hair. their voice a soothing and upbeat hiss. "It is good to see you all, I have enjoyed my time alone with the machines, but it cannot really substitute for talking among my fellows, yes?" their unusual demeanor radiated from them, a monstrous bug, calmly and gracefully flowing between words and actions alike.
They walked to the wall and brace themselves for the upcoming leap through space, although it seemed more like a gliding lope, a weightless quality to it which is unbecoming of a creature so large.
Click-Click never liked jumps.
Deep in the bowels of the sunspear, Click-Click tended to the heart of the ship. The harsh industrial angles of the original build starkly contrasted with the organic lines of Uk'a nn't'alo architecture. adjustments and tinkerings, making the ship fly smoother and faster than a manufactured version. Their baby. Their arms glided from their tool sling to the weave of ceramosteel that constitutes the beating heart of the ship, patching together the changes they've made to it, and wishing it luck on the flight soon to come. They untangled themselves from the mass of wires and pipes feeding the reactor, veins and nervs all serving their purpose. Eerie shadows were cast on the walls by them, the almost-organic, uncanny valley nature of the engine room would be offputting to anyone else.
Click-click gracefully loped to the steerwell connecting this part of the ship, their home, to the rest. Bidding the soft humming and clanking that they are all too familiar with goodbye, they head upwards into the waking world.
They entered the control room, warmly casting their gaze around the room, and slowly waving at everyone. "I am back from the heart of the ship, It is steadily beating and ready for the trials ahead." they adjust the wilting flower attached to their chitinous plates much like someone would put a flower in hair. their voice a soothing and upbeat hiss. "It is good to see you all, I have enjoyed my time alone with the machines, but it cannot really substitute for talking among my fellows, yes?" their unusual demeanor radiated from them, a monstrous bug, calmly and gracefully flowing between words and actions alike.
They walked to the wall and brace themselves for the upcoming leap through space, although it seemed more like a gliding lope, a weightless quality to it which is unbecoming of a creature so large.
Click-Click never liked jumps.
Last edited:
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Hercynia
The pilot's announcement over the communicators tied to the ship's long-range comms confirmed I:SILME's suspicions. Rather than reply verbally, the Harbinger simply lifted a wrist and tapped a button that simply signaled acknowledgement and receipt of message. Sparing the pilot of arguably unnecessary conversation. This practice wasn't entirely necessary depending on the species involved but I:SILME understood that most organics had codified rules of conduct instilled from infancy. Speaking to someone usually meant they felt obliged to speak back, which could create and carry on an unnecessary conversation that potentially neither party wanted. Ever since she'd learned that a button could inform the pilot she'd heard without interrupting Korma, I:SILME had been diligent about using it unless she had information to relay.
Athanas
The advantage of experience was that I:SILME no longer panicked immediately at the sight of the ship's junior engineer producing an unidentified device. Certain protocols engaged immediately, of course, first among them a burst transmission via her Direct Synaptic Synchronization to the Harbinger, backing herself up in case this was the invention that damaged her beyond repair.
In point of fact, she didn't make an expression from the beginning of his threat to demonstrate and Cerval's action of actually pressing the button. But that non-expression was almost as telling as an actual expression, particularly when she didn't disguise the relief that shaped her face at the sight of the two faint sparks. "I'm delighted that you're delighted, Cerval," I:SILME replied politely, amused despite herself at the strange organic's antics.
Nebulous Stars
The unique nearness of her wife always brought I:SILME a kind of comfort made possible only by advanced cutaneous sensors and her Emotion Emulation Engine. Mya seemed affectionate, which always made the Harbinger smile. Particularly the feel of the Nierak-Ti's lower arms as those hands touched her shoulders. The higher, bigger set were tools and weapons, purposeful, functional. But Mya's lower arms were for more delicate, intimate actions and just their touch made I:SILME mentally revisit other occasions.
Mya also seemed content enough to follow along, probably owing to the Nierak-Ti's energy sensitivities. I:SILME knew her Harbinger reactor was something viscerally different from other energy systems, that Mya could tell the difference. And the nearness of her wife reminded her how important time together was. Even as they reached the engineering level and Cerval began his explanation of what he'd been building, I:SILME had already increased her power output by 10% or so. Their years together had taught the android that Nierak-Ti liked energy, could not only sense it but taste it even through most kinds of shielding. Something I:SILME had learned to do was bleed off a little excess power when her wife was around. Mya could always tell, and she seemed to enjoy it, perhaps sampling or intaking it in some mysterious way.
It was one of the many ways they shared themselves with each other.
When Mya just picked her up, I:SILME chuckled and snuggled a bit into her affectionate spouse as Cerval invited them to follow him into the ship. "Come along, love. It looks like our shipmate has something to show us...and if we don't go and see now, I have a feeling we'll later encounter whatever he's made by surprise. There will be time enough for us soon, sweetheart."
Athanas
Assuming Mya was game for carrying her into the ship, I:SILME gamely allowed herself to be carried onto the ship and through its corridors until the trio reached engineering. Upon seeing his 'lair', I:SILME once again had second thoughts particularly after her optics analyzed and interpreted the nigh-incoherent writing on the wall. Once more, her expression was politely interested but a hint of strain creased the edges of her friendly smile as Cerval unloaded his find onto a workbench.
The prospect of a personal shielding device resulted in both of the android's eyebrows to rise straight up. That would be a useful invention, particularly if it had an independent power source. While Harbinger had a 10,000 year power supply, they weren't rigged to serve as portable generators. ...Well, besides for recreational purposes for a certain Nierak-Ti.
His 'request' at the end made her smile. And so I:SILME gamely repeated back, "My, my, Cerval, how ingenious and simultaneously compassionate of you to protect our lives in such a manner. You have our gratitude!"
Nebulous Stars
With the demonstration finished, I:SILME tilted her head back and up to look her much taller spouse in the eyes. "Unless we're taking off immediately, I have time now. But we'd better hurry before we-"
Anaxileah
Athanas
Nebulous Stars
At which point Akra's message broadcast through the ship. With the three of them already down in engineering, I:SILME turned to Cerval and Mya before saying, "We might as well ride the launch out here, if that's convenient. At least, Mya and I don't have any launch responsibilities."
At least she already had a good spot to ride out the launch. No chair was a better support against hard acceleration than an affectionate Nierak-Ti wife curled around her.
Hercynia
Island of Thoughts
Komra was happily silent as more of the crew filed into the bridge, content to poke away at her own menagerie of screens and tablets that surrounded her like some strange, digital forest. An acknowledging blip on her communicator as I:SILME responded - well, in her way. If she was onboard, presumably her wife was too - as, surely, was Cerval. Akra had gone to Myrian, Vanna and Lauren were- The woman glanced backwards to check, gaze meeting Akra's as she reentered the bridge - here, which meant that- most likely- everyone was onboard. That left only-
The woman's concerns were, fortunately, washed away as she heard Click-click's distinctive hiss of a voice, and she nodded - more to herself than anyone. The nod, though, paired with a frown as she heard of the Mardisti conflict - and saw the planned route, courtesy of Lauren. Still- navigating wasn't Komra's job, and she wasn't one to second-guess the person who had far more training in that field than she did. That said... She frowned, turned back to Akra - and spoke, quietly. "Captain - a word...?"
She stood, and moved out of the bridge - to the galley, with Akra following a few steps behind. The Naidja took a long look around - not quite paranoid, but on the verge of it, perhaps, before she turned to Akra with concern in her eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking in quiet, low tones - barely audible to anyone standing further than immediately beside her. "Captain- Akra. I'm- worried. Are you sure being near a warzone - Mardisti - is a good idea...? She's-" The Naidja gestured around her, to the Sunspear, "Fast, and- I mean, I th- I can keep us out of trouble, mostly, but... it's still risky..."
Akra, in response, looked up at the tall, willowy pilot she had known for years, her pupils slightly narrowed as she regarded her best friend. "I know what I'm doing, Komi. You know warzones are the best pickings for selling parts, and Lauren and Vanna know how to navigate us away from the active combat zones. I have full confidence in you as my pilot and as my c- friend." She cut herself off and corrected her words quickly, averting her gaze to the counters and cabinets storing their food supply. "Plus, we're running low on funds. We need the money. And it's a lot of money." Akra's golden eyes looked back to Komra with anger in them, not toward Komi but toward herself for not being entirely truthful about their finances.
White lips parted as Komra hesitated, caught between words as she reordered and put them together differently - then spoke, once more. "I- I know, just..." A long, breathy sigh. "I don't want anything to happen to us, and, I mean- we're Junkers. Nobody is really going to help if we get a hull rupture, or... something along those lines. But..." Akra opened her mouth to protest, her forehead furrowed in mild frustration. Komra held up a slender, metal finger, silencing Akra's agape expression, to which she reacted with a soft huff and a raise of her hand to rub her forehead. "I know, we... need the money. And- I trust you. And the crew." She kept the final word to herself, in that.
Akra considered Komra's words, her slender blue hand still running along the bridge of her nose that connected to her forehead smoothly, the action soothing and generally something a mother did to their child. "After this, we'll be less involved with warzones. And maybe some of our babbling nonsense can convince others for help, who knows? But we have more than capable workers on the ship, and she is intended for battle." Akra smiled grimly, folding her arms over her chest in an effort to keep them from fiddling with her face or tentacles. Her gold eyes met Komra's black and white ones as the Naidja spoke - a small hesitance in her voice, now.
The will-o-the-wisp of the woman seemed reassured by that, as she nodded - but concern flooded into her monochromatic eyes once again as she moved forward slightly, reducing the distance between the two as she dropped her voice a few decibels. "There's... something else, though."
"Yes?"
"Are you alright? Getting into the fight earlier, going into a warzone- I mean, I'm not a psychologist or anything along those lines, but..." She frowned, her hands clasping with a small, metallic clang. "You don't have a death wish, or anything I need- or anything like that, right? I'm... I'm worried about you."
Akra's gaze softened as Komra closed the distance between them, questioning her own well-being. She could have reacted dismissively or angrily, but it was difficult to keep a face up for so long. She let out a small sigh and gently leaned her head against Komra's chest, her exhausted aura almost palpable. "I'm tired, Komi. I'm tired of this job, I'm tired of missing K'ya'ni, I always feel so..alone." She pulled away gently, luminescent tears falling down her face before she could wipe them away.
The Naidja paused for a moment, hesitating for a second before she slowly reached her arms around the Kist Ra'Om, holding her friend close and tugging her gently back in towards her. "I know." An encouraging, gentle pat on the woman's back. "I know. I understand. Sssshhhhh. You're not alone - I'm here. The whole crew is here - for eachother." Her voice was warm, soothing. "We can finish this, and then talk more, alright? After this- After this job. We'll figure it out, hm?"
Akra let the much taller female draw her back into an embrace, her shoulders trembling ever so slightly. She felt as though she was taking advantage of Komra's kindness; being vulnerable in front of another crew member was unspoken of, and could make her be seen as weak, as well as the one consoling her. Still...it felt nice to be held closely and gently with such a warm aura. She spoke softly, almost too softly to be heard: "Maybe."
"We will. Let's get back to the bridge - take off, hm? We can get this over with, and then we'll talk more about it." Komra released her captain - her friend - from the embrace, metal fingers resting gently on the other woman's shoulders. A hand moved, as though to touch her face - before the finer points of Komra's democratic training returned to her. "Are you ready...?"
Akra nodded as Komra pulled away, the weight of her metal-tipped hands resting on her shoulders. It was at that moment that Akra realized she practically just hugged her pilot with nothing but wraps covering her chest and a jacket loose around the rest of her torso, making her turn a deep purple and tug the zipper up a little further, feeling bashful for some reason. She caught the movement of Komra's hand out of the corner of her eye as it neared her face for a moment before the Naidja dropped it and asked if she was prepared to go. Nodding silently and avoiding eye contact, Akra returned to the bridge with Komra in tow, her hands in her pockets and her gaze fixated on the floor. Komra waited as the Kist Ra'Om moved before her, standing just inside the airlock on the other side of Click-click until the captain had taken her seat before she moved further forward, folding her long legs beneath her as she sat in her pilot's chair.
She waited a minute longer - content to listen to the chatter behind her, before she touched a hand to a panel again, pulling up a long set of very long and very technical statistics. She closed her eyes, breathed out - and when she opened them again there was a focus behind them - which hadn't been absent before, exactly, but was now significantly more pronounced. More tugs at a keyboard on one side, and a few keypresses opened a number of small hatches around her. On the left, a handle, glowing lines and lights blinking into view around it - on the other side, below the screen and keyboard, something that didn't look unlike a joystick. A light touch to the handle, and to a small button on it - and the ship let out a sound that started off as a small, gentle thrum - but it barely took a second before it was a roar, the Sunspear's twin engines opening and sending a plume of plasma out behind them. Shields sparked into life, systems newly awakening as the beast that was the crew's home began to rise off the launchpad - vertically, for the moment, as dozens of smaller thrusters fired below it.
More screens blipped on around Komra - cameras, calculations, flight paths as she narrowed her eyes at the one that displayed the space directly above them. She paid no attention to the bridge's huge frontal windows as the world around the crew turned and curved before the artificial gravity activated with a loud, distant, 'Thump'. The raining city in front stayed at an angle though as the Sunspear rose, frontal thrusters firing harder before the rear ones activated fully - and they took off. Rain fell sideways against the ship as it rose at a steep incline, moving away from the city. At first, subsonic - then, as soon as they'd reached far enough away, the ship shattered the sound barrier as it leapt forward, a wolf freed from its reigns.
----
Parts of this post written with
Anaxileah
Tags:
Viper Actual
Epiphany
enterelysium
archur
The woman's concerns were, fortunately, washed away as she heard Click-click's distinctive hiss of a voice, and she nodded - more to herself than anyone. The nod, though, paired with a frown as she heard of the Mardisti conflict - and saw the planned route, courtesy of Lauren. Still- navigating wasn't Komra's job, and she wasn't one to second-guess the person who had far more training in that field than she did. That said... She frowned, turned back to Akra - and spoke, quietly. "Captain - a word...?"
She stood, and moved out of the bridge - to the galley, with Akra following a few steps behind. The Naidja took a long look around - not quite paranoid, but on the verge of it, perhaps, before she turned to Akra with concern in her eyes, taking a deep breath before speaking in quiet, low tones - barely audible to anyone standing further than immediately beside her. "Captain- Akra. I'm- worried. Are you sure being near a warzone - Mardisti - is a good idea...? She's-" The Naidja gestured around her, to the Sunspear, "Fast, and- I mean, I th- I can keep us out of trouble, mostly, but... it's still risky..."
Akra, in response, looked up at the tall, willowy pilot she had known for years, her pupils slightly narrowed as she regarded her best friend. "I know what I'm doing, Komi. You know warzones are the best pickings for selling parts, and Lauren and Vanna know how to navigate us away from the active combat zones. I have full confidence in you as my pilot and as my c- friend." She cut herself off and corrected her words quickly, averting her gaze to the counters and cabinets storing their food supply. "Plus, we're running low on funds. We need the money. And it's a lot of money." Akra's golden eyes looked back to Komra with anger in them, not toward Komi but toward herself for not being entirely truthful about their finances.
White lips parted as Komra hesitated, caught between words as she reordered and put them together differently - then spoke, once more. "I- I know, just..." A long, breathy sigh. "I don't want anything to happen to us, and, I mean- we're Junkers. Nobody is really going to help if we get a hull rupture, or... something along those lines. But..." Akra opened her mouth to protest, her forehead furrowed in mild frustration. Komra held up a slender, metal finger, silencing Akra's agape expression, to which she reacted with a soft huff and a raise of her hand to rub her forehead. "I know, we... need the money. And- I trust you. And the crew." She kept the final word to herself, in that.
Akra considered Komra's words, her slender blue hand still running along the bridge of her nose that connected to her forehead smoothly, the action soothing and generally something a mother did to their child. "After this, we'll be less involved with warzones. And maybe some of our babbling nonsense can convince others for help, who knows? But we have more than capable workers on the ship, and she is intended for battle." Akra smiled grimly, folding her arms over her chest in an effort to keep them from fiddling with her face or tentacles. Her gold eyes met Komra's black and white ones as the Naidja spoke - a small hesitance in her voice, now.
The will-o-the-wisp of the woman seemed reassured by that, as she nodded - but concern flooded into her monochromatic eyes once again as she moved forward slightly, reducing the distance between the two as she dropped her voice a few decibels. "There's... something else, though."
"Yes?"
"Are you alright? Getting into the fight earlier, going into a warzone- I mean, I'm not a psychologist or anything along those lines, but..." She frowned, her hands clasping with a small, metallic clang. "You don't have a death wish, or anything I need- or anything like that, right? I'm... I'm worried about you."
Akra's gaze softened as Komra closed the distance between them, questioning her own well-being. She could have reacted dismissively or angrily, but it was difficult to keep a face up for so long. She let out a small sigh and gently leaned her head against Komra's chest, her exhausted aura almost palpable. "I'm tired, Komi. I'm tired of this job, I'm tired of missing K'ya'ni, I always feel so..alone." She pulled away gently, luminescent tears falling down her face before she could wipe them away.
The Naidja paused for a moment, hesitating for a second before she slowly reached her arms around the Kist Ra'Om, holding her friend close and tugging her gently back in towards her. "I know." An encouraging, gentle pat on the woman's back. "I know. I understand. Sssshhhhh. You're not alone - I'm here. The whole crew is here - for eachother." Her voice was warm, soothing. "We can finish this, and then talk more, alright? After this- After this job. We'll figure it out, hm?"
Akra let the much taller female draw her back into an embrace, her shoulders trembling ever so slightly. She felt as though she was taking advantage of Komra's kindness; being vulnerable in front of another crew member was unspoken of, and could make her be seen as weak, as well as the one consoling her. Still...it felt nice to be held closely and gently with such a warm aura. She spoke softly, almost too softly to be heard: "Maybe."
"We will. Let's get back to the bridge - take off, hm? We can get this over with, and then we'll talk more about it." Komra released her captain - her friend - from the embrace, metal fingers resting gently on the other woman's shoulders. A hand moved, as though to touch her face - before the finer points of Komra's democratic training returned to her. "Are you ready...?"
Akra nodded as Komra pulled away, the weight of her metal-tipped hands resting on her shoulders. It was at that moment that Akra realized she practically just hugged her pilot with nothing but wraps covering her chest and a jacket loose around the rest of her torso, making her turn a deep purple and tug the zipper up a little further, feeling bashful for some reason. She caught the movement of Komra's hand out of the corner of her eye as it neared her face for a moment before the Naidja dropped it and asked if she was prepared to go. Nodding silently and avoiding eye contact, Akra returned to the bridge with Komra in tow, her hands in her pockets and her gaze fixated on the floor. Komra waited as the Kist Ra'Om moved before her, standing just inside the airlock on the other side of Click-click until the captain had taken her seat before she moved further forward, folding her long legs beneath her as she sat in her pilot's chair.
She waited a minute longer - content to listen to the chatter behind her, before she touched a hand to a panel again, pulling up a long set of very long and very technical statistics. She closed her eyes, breathed out - and when she opened them again there was a focus behind them - which hadn't been absent before, exactly, but was now significantly more pronounced. More tugs at a keyboard on one side, and a few keypresses opened a number of small hatches around her. On the left, a handle, glowing lines and lights blinking into view around it - on the other side, below the screen and keyboard, something that didn't look unlike a joystick. A light touch to the handle, and to a small button on it - and the ship let out a sound that started off as a small, gentle thrum - but it barely took a second before it was a roar, the Sunspear's twin engines opening and sending a plume of plasma out behind them. Shields sparked into life, systems newly awakening as the beast that was the crew's home began to rise off the launchpad - vertically, for the moment, as dozens of smaller thrusters fired below it.
More screens blipped on around Komra - cameras, calculations, flight paths as she narrowed her eyes at the one that displayed the space directly above them. She paid no attention to the bridge's huge frontal windows as the world around the crew turned and curved before the artificial gravity activated with a loud, distant, 'Thump'. The raining city in front stayed at an angle though as the Sunspear rose, frontal thrusters firing harder before the rear ones activated fully - and they took off. Rain fell sideways against the ship as it rose at a steep incline, moving away from the city. At first, subsonic - then, as soon as they'd reached far enough away, the ship shattered the sound barrier as it leapt forward, a wolf freed from its reigns.
----
Parts of this post written with
Anaxileah
Tags:
Viper Actual
Epiphany
enterelysium
archur
Mechking
All machines only listen to one master!
"...and then they didn't even thank me! They wanted to throw me into their jail instead. Should have just left them alone to die in the supernova...But hey, can't expect a bunch of thieving shapeshifters to be grateful, you know Stabby?"
Dave was looking around the now expertly cleaned lower decks, trying to find the small bot.
"Stabby?"
Putting his mob away, he went searching around where he could possibly hide.
"Stabby! Where are youuuu? The Emperor demands your attention!"
Searching through airvents and shouting into random halls, Dave could not find wherever Stabby has left to.
"Stabby, I did not rescue you from the depths of hell only for you to abandon me! Get back here!"
But after a few minutes of fruitless searching, Dave let out a defeated "Stabby" and went to his room...Well, the GIG to be exact. He lied down on the floor and relaxed with a relieved grin on his face.
"At least you won't leave me, right Gary? After all of the adventures we had together, I am sure you won't just run away from me. Remember when we...
Dave prattles on about distant memories and ridiculous stories as the Sunspear lifts off into the sky.
Dave was looking around the now expertly cleaned lower decks, trying to find the small bot.
"Stabby?"
Putting his mob away, he went searching around where he could possibly hide.
"Stabby! Where are youuuu? The Emperor demands your attention!"
Searching through airvents and shouting into random halls, Dave could not find wherever Stabby has left to.
"Stabby, I did not rescue you from the depths of hell only for you to abandon me! Get back here!"
But after a few minutes of fruitless searching, Dave let out a defeated "Stabby" and went to his room...Well, the GIG to be exact. He lied down on the floor and relaxed with a relieved grin on his face.
"At least you won't leave me, right Gary? After all of the adventures we had together, I am sure you won't just run away from me. Remember when we...
Dave prattles on about distant memories and ridiculous stories as the Sunspear lifts off into the sky.
Anaxileah
From the Depths of Hell
Viper Actual
Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
While orbital remains of battles, wars, skirmishes and even accidents weren't unfamiliar to Lauren the abstract horror that soon followed was. "Why would someone skin the crew?" She asked aloud to no one in particular. As her eyes jumped between the skinned and shredded crew floating through space her mind began to think about the numerous myths and tales she had heard throughout her career. Monsters drifting through space, inter-dimensional beings, wraiths and more.
While normally skeptical to such tales the scene in front of her and the others did raise the question of who or what.
Once the orders came Lauren nodded firmly. "Aye Captain, calculating now."
Luckily for Lauren she had already plotted several escape routes. All she needed now was to make adjustments for debris and other anomalies scattered throughout the area- factors that star charts couldn't plan for. Thanks to Vanna it was also possible to plan routes leading to nearby ports, fuel dumps and more in the event that whatever happens during this gig in particular would need quick repairs or medical assistance.
Once the computer was left with new parameters the calculating would take a couple of minutes, leaving Lauren to resume watching the horrific scene outside of the ship. "Captain," she said, nodding towards the bridge viewport. "Who do you think did this?"
Anaxileah
While normally skeptical to such tales the scene in front of her and the others did raise the question of who or what.
Once the orders came Lauren nodded firmly. "Aye Captain, calculating now."
Luckily for Lauren she had already plotted several escape routes. All she needed now was to make adjustments for debris and other anomalies scattered throughout the area- factors that star charts couldn't plan for. Thanks to Vanna it was also possible to plan routes leading to nearby ports, fuel dumps and more in the event that whatever happens during this gig in particular would need quick repairs or medical assistance.
Once the computer was left with new parameters the calculating would take a couple of minutes, leaving Lauren to resume watching the horrific scene outside of the ship. "Captain," she said, nodding towards the bridge viewport. "Who do you think did this?"
Anaxileah
Last edited:
archur
watch for the flash
War was no stranger to Vanna, it was a large reason as to why she possessed her particular subset of skills. She knew that in war, there was no real winner, there were just survivors. People who made it out the other side of a grinding battle, if people were involved. Where she came from, hers usually weren't, just loads and loads of attrition bots to weigh down the opposition in sheer weight of firepower and bodies. She hated how bloodsoaked the bots were when they were recalled from a successful operation, just to be scrapped to "preserve material". Hell, her generals could calculate how many bots a planet was worth. They were literally able to tell how many disposable soldiers a person's life was, betting on averages and even giving nicknames to these type of situations based on how many attrition bots were needed to break the enemy. Code 2-6 was the jargon they used for a small, dug in army. The system's initial estimates average to about 2 bots per soldier, and rounds up to 6 after an hour of combat, determining more bodies are needed to flush out the opposition. It always left those planets scorched and barren, since the system didn't like to waste resources, and always made sure that an organized rebellion could never pull itself together ever again from said location.
With the wanton carnage and the desecrated bodies that lifelessly bumped against the ship's hull, this didn't even seem like a Code .5 assault, a show of excessive force on a civilian zone. Whatever went through here clearly was stronger than both parties that participated in this conflict.
She snapped back to attention when her captain's voice cut through her thoughts. "Prepping guns." She said absentmindedly to herself as she got up from her chair, making great haste to ensure that the ship's weapon facilities were ready for whatever monster waited for them in the glittering void beyond the hull. Quickly, she rushed down to the weapon control systems to ensure that they were properly manned should things go awry.
The room was a rather spacious one, a bit bigger than three quarters put together for what you might imagine would be inside. User operated terminals meant for interfacing and directly controlling the Sunspear's weapons. A missile rack was integrated into the wall on the right, with the appropriate torpedo launcher terminal just next to it. Two battle cannon terminals of varying caliber and fire rate and sat in the middle of the room, and a flak cannon terminal sat on the right. Vanna hurriedly began preparing the torpedo launcher, releasing the safety but not yet priming the weapon to be fired. She could do that with a button, and didn't want a mishap to occur before anything showed up. Then she activated the battle cannon terminals, the cannons themselves cycling rounds on activation. She figured that she'd stay on her terminal for now, and that if anybody else wanted to show up and activate the flak cannon, they'd be her guest.
"Weapons hot." She announced over comms.
Anaxileah
With the wanton carnage and the desecrated bodies that lifelessly bumped against the ship's hull, this didn't even seem like a Code .5 assault, a show of excessive force on a civilian zone. Whatever went through here clearly was stronger than both parties that participated in this conflict.
She snapped back to attention when her captain's voice cut through her thoughts. "Prepping guns." She said absentmindedly to herself as she got up from her chair, making great haste to ensure that the ship's weapon facilities were ready for whatever monster waited for them in the glittering void beyond the hull. Quickly, she rushed down to the weapon control systems to ensure that they were properly manned should things go awry.
The room was a rather spacious one, a bit bigger than three quarters put together for what you might imagine would be inside. User operated terminals meant for interfacing and directly controlling the Sunspear's weapons. A missile rack was integrated into the wall on the right, with the appropriate torpedo launcher terminal just next to it. Two battle cannon terminals of varying caliber and fire rate and sat in the middle of the room, and a flak cannon terminal sat on the right. Vanna hurriedly began preparing the torpedo launcher, releasing the safety but not yet priming the weapon to be fired. She could do that with a button, and didn't want a mishap to occur before anything showed up. Then she activated the battle cannon terminals, the cannons themselves cycling rounds on activation. She figured that she'd stay on her terminal for now, and that if anybody else wanted to show up and activate the flak cannon, they'd be her guest.
"Weapons hot." She announced over comms.
Anaxileah
Mechking
All machines only listen to one master!
They had arrived, and in the midst of silent chaos too. Even though the outside view resembled Dave's state of mind, he didn't really seem to mind or pay attention to it, only occasionally waving at bits and pieces that bumped against the ship. A small sigh escaped him but his smile remained as he whispered to himself.
"...Guess they won't be reincarnating after all..."
When Dave heard his name, he immediately jumped into a military salute and remained so until Akra finished talking. With an enthusiastic "Yes, commander!", Dave stormed off towards the GIG. With the speed and determination of cleaning up a gigantic battlefield as well as the shouting voice of a wardrummer, his warcry could be heard across the ship (if it wasn't as soundproof).
"GAAAAARYYYY! It's tiiiiime! We're going out to play, ready your everything!"
Everyone was thankful that he didn't use the comms.
With his dataslate and everything else already in his pocket, Dave didn't need to stop. On the contrary, with his new implant, Dave connected himself to the GIG and remotely started all of its systems. Sliding into the ready room and opening the door to the GIG, Dave was sure to he would have another one of his adventures.
"Let us greet those that have dared to challenge-"
He jumped into the pilot seat,
Anaxileah
"...Guess they won't be reincarnating after all..."
When Dave heard his name, he immediately jumped into a military salute and remained so until Akra finished talking. With an enthusiastic "Yes, commander!", Dave stormed off towards the GIG. With the speed and determination of cleaning up a gigantic battlefield as well as the shouting voice of a wardrummer, his warcry could be heard across the ship (if it wasn't as soundproof).
"GAAAAARYYYY! It's tiiiiime! We're going out to play, ready your everything!"
Everyone was thankful that he didn't use the comms.
With his dataslate and everything else already in his pocket, Dave didn't need to stop. On the contrary, with his new implant, Dave connected himself to the GIG and remotely started all of its systems. Sliding into the ready room and opening the door to the GIG, Dave was sure to he would have another one of his adventures.
"Let us greet those that have dared to challenge-"
He jumped into the pilot seat,
"THE IMMORTAL EMPEROR, DAVE!"
Anaxileah
Athanas
You needed someone to blame, so you cast it on me.
Cerval was happy with how everything was going. Isilme had spent some time in his presence, and he found the melody intriguing and relaxing. Mya's idea about a plasma weapon that would work on several times the power but without any of the associated risks made his heart(s?) race with excitement. He'd quickly put together the shield projector, and it seemed to be functional. They'd even picked up Spoons, whose love of...recreational chemicals and apt cooking never failed to make the engineer happy.
Happiness, however, is a fickle thing. And when he saw the grisly sight, he felt it evaporating like morning dew during a drought. It wasn't the death that scared him. In a warzone, people died, and they did so in all sorts of hideous manner and form. But this...wasn't an attack, at least not by most weapons he could recognize, and he knew a lot. Organic attacker, then? His eyes inadvertently glanced over to Mya at the thought. While she was a great friend it was undeniable that her race was one of the few races that innately possessed such terrifying killing capabilities without the use of mechanical augments. He tilted his head, pondering on whether or not he should ask if she could sense any of her kin here... but ultimately decided against it.
Maybe a gauss rifle? but then, it wouldn't only be the skin that flied off. It would be several chunks of bone, too. Sadists? Maybe, but these were soldiers. No ragtag band was getting the jump on them that easily. The more he thought about it, the more stressed he became. He leaned closer to the screens, as if though trying to somehow dive into them and figure out the perpetrator. His pulse quickened again, but this time, it wasn't due to excitement. He felt sweat forming up on his forehead despite his suit's cooling, and his fists clenched. It was like the images themselves were attacking his mind, filling it with a thousand possibilities, a million theories he could act on.
But ultimately, he didn't know.
And he hated what he did not know.
At that last statement his visor actually flared up a little, a burst of 0's and 1's trying to somehow form an expression out of whatever emotional catastrophe was currently happening inside his brain. The result was...Grotesque, to say the least, and for the briefest of moments, the eyes flashed orange-a very bad sign.
"I'm-I'm going to the workshop to gear up. Meet you all i-in five."
And with that he walked off at a speedy pace before anyone could question him, his mind still choke-full with questions he did not have the answer to.
He suited up quickly, so as to avoid thinking what he was doing. He wore his second suit, the nanobots ensuring perfect integration with the regular one. The jetpack came shortly afterwards, and the moonbelt was soon packed to the brim With gadgetry. In his hands, the Reaper's Due fully loaded and ready for duty in his hand, the grenade launcher in his shoulder, the two recon drones hovering around him. He was ready to take down a platoon or two if he had to.
But the insecurity never left. Desperate, he checked his injector.
4 ZH-98 tonics. Rage.
12 BNH-101 injections. Painkillers.
2 KLAM injections. reflexes and speed.
1 ENBLR. Unknown effects. Made during a breaking point.
0 QXRG. Sedative.
0. Sedatives.
FUCK
He sighed angrily, cursing himself for not thinking to make some extra in case they were ever needed. There was no time, now-The captain needed him, and he'd have to go as he were. It was fine. He wasn't that bad anyway.
He was the last to show up, the exorbitant amount of gadgetry having taken some time to put on. "Heads clear, Triggers hot. L-Let's do this."
Happiness, however, is a fickle thing. And when he saw the grisly sight, he felt it evaporating like morning dew during a drought. It wasn't the death that scared him. In a warzone, people died, and they did so in all sorts of hideous manner and form. But this...wasn't an attack, at least not by most weapons he could recognize, and he knew a lot. Organic attacker, then? His eyes inadvertently glanced over to Mya at the thought. While she was a great friend it was undeniable that her race was one of the few races that innately possessed such terrifying killing capabilities without the use of mechanical augments. He tilted his head, pondering on whether or not he should ask if she could sense any of her kin here... but ultimately decided against it.
Maybe a gauss rifle? but then, it wouldn't only be the skin that flied off. It would be several chunks of bone, too. Sadists? Maybe, but these were soldiers. No ragtag band was getting the jump on them that easily. The more he thought about it, the more stressed he became. He leaned closer to the screens, as if though trying to somehow dive into them and figure out the perpetrator. His pulse quickened again, but this time, it wasn't due to excitement. He felt sweat forming up on his forehead despite his suit's cooling, and his fists clenched. It was like the images themselves were attacking his mind, filling it with a thousand possibilities, a million theories he could act on.
But ultimately, he didn't know.
And he hated what he did not know.
At that last statement his visor actually flared up a little, a burst of 0's and 1's trying to somehow form an expression out of whatever emotional catastrophe was currently happening inside his brain. The result was...Grotesque, to say the least, and for the briefest of moments, the eyes flashed orange-a very bad sign.
"I'm-I'm going to the workshop to gear up. Meet you all i-in five."
And with that he walked off at a speedy pace before anyone could question him, his mind still choke-full with questions he did not have the answer to.
He suited up quickly, so as to avoid thinking what he was doing. He wore his second suit, the nanobots ensuring perfect integration with the regular one. The jetpack came shortly afterwards, and the moonbelt was soon packed to the brim With gadgetry. In his hands, the Reaper's Due fully loaded and ready for duty in his hand, the grenade launcher in his shoulder, the two recon drones hovering around him. He was ready to take down a platoon or two if he had to.
But the insecurity never left. Desperate, he checked his injector.
4 ZH-98 tonics. Rage.
12 BNH-101 injections. Painkillers.
2 KLAM injections. reflexes and speed.
1 ENBLR. Unknown effects. Made during a breaking point.
0 QXRG. Sedative.
0. Sedatives.
FUCK
He sighed angrily, cursing himself for not thinking to make some extra in case they were ever needed. There was no time, now-The captain needed him, and he'd have to go as he were. It was fine. He wasn't that bad anyway.
He was the last to show up, the exorbitant amount of gadgetry having taken some time to put on. "Heads clear, Triggers hot. L-Let's do this."
Hercynia
Island of Thoughts
Komra was careful as she flew the Sunspear through the battlefield, doing her best to avoid any debris born of the battle that had taken place. The larger ones were easy enough to avoid - but the smaller were still dangerous if not handled correctly. The majority that got through the light shields - low power to minimise detection, of course - just hit the hull, fortunately - only costing small bits of paint. One or two impacts, however, made Komra more than glad she'd closed the fuel scoops - shrapnel inside those could have easily torn the ship apart, if they weren't careful.
She bit her lip as they approached the salvage site - black-white eyes glancing over the grisly scene before her before returning to her instruments. She didn't know of any races with a predisposition towards this type of maiming - which meant that whoever had done this likely did it out of some sort of twisted enjoyment. The though, even more so than the bodies, made her sick - wanton, cruel murder, flaying, for no purpose.
Akra's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced back at the Kist Ra'Om with a nod. "Yes, Captain." She didn't need encouragement, and as she turned she flipped a few more switches, pressed some more buttons - bridging the gap between stealth and the preparations necessary to run away very, very fast in case it became necessary. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that - hopefully this would be the milk run it was supposed to be, but Komra knew better than to tempt Murphy with that thought.
Anaxileah
@ Anyone on the bridge
She bit her lip as they approached the salvage site - black-white eyes glancing over the grisly scene before her before returning to her instruments. She didn't know of any races with a predisposition towards this type of maiming - which meant that whoever had done this likely did it out of some sort of twisted enjoyment. The though, even more so than the bodies, made her sick - wanton, cruel murder, flaying, for no purpose.
Akra's voice pulled her from her thoughts, and she glanced back at the Kist Ra'Om with a nod. "Yes, Captain." She didn't need encouragement, and as she turned she flipped a few more switches, pressed some more buttons - bridging the gap between stealth and the preparations necessary to run away very, very fast in case it became necessary. Hopefully it wouldn't come to that - hopefully this would be the milk run it was supposed to be, but Komra knew better than to tempt Murphy with that thought.
Anaxileah
@ Anyone on the bridge
DarkianMaker
Pope of the cheese god Kambert
Spoons was happy to be back with the crew again and upon his first day back he had prepared a true feast for them within reasonable means and caught up with his friends, it was good to see them again. He had put up his usual 'No Entry for Dave!' sign at the kitchen door to deter Dave's cleaning crazes from reaching his holy sanctum. He had stashed his gear in the usual place and even stashed a small package intended for a friend in an obscure nook in the cargo hold. Just some muscle relaxation tablets that are banned by said friend's government.
When they reached this system he was rather amused by the sight of so many wrecks and corpses and had chuckles, but his merriment did quickly fade when the more gruesome mutilations came past. "Damn, even the Kamlar Massacre wasn't this gruesome..." He mostly muttered to himself as he looked with morbid fascination. What could've caused such damage and mutilation with such apparent ease? He took a long pull from his cigar as he pondered the carnage.
Then Akra gave her orders to the crew, he liked and respected her well enough not to give her shit for it, for now. "Sure thing Akra." He replied to the captain of the Sunspear over comms as he walked over to his weapon station to run a quick pre-activation diagnostic before activating the station afterwards and sitting down. "Flak cannon station operational and primed." He then announced over comms to Akra before looking at Vanna. "Hey Blue, ready to be sat here with nothing happening for hours once more?" He then asked his fellow Gunner and bunk mate with a chuckle. He then proceeded to wait for the other Gunners, Vanna's response and new orders in general as he continues to enjoy his cigar. Time for some likely idle banter whilst the others get to have fun.
Mentions:
Anaxileah
- responding to orders and reporting weapon status
archur
- chitchat
When they reached this system he was rather amused by the sight of so many wrecks and corpses and had chuckles, but his merriment did quickly fade when the more gruesome mutilations came past. "Damn, even the Kamlar Massacre wasn't this gruesome..." He mostly muttered to himself as he looked with morbid fascination. What could've caused such damage and mutilation with such apparent ease? He took a long pull from his cigar as he pondered the carnage.
Then Akra gave her orders to the crew, he liked and respected her well enough not to give her shit for it, for now. "Sure thing Akra." He replied to the captain of the Sunspear over comms as he walked over to his weapon station to run a quick pre-activation diagnostic before activating the station afterwards and sitting down. "Flak cannon station operational and primed." He then announced over comms to Akra before looking at Vanna. "Hey Blue, ready to be sat here with nothing happening for hours once more?" He then asked his fellow Gunner and bunk mate with a chuckle. He then proceeded to wait for the other Gunners, Vanna's response and new orders in general as he continues to enjoy his cigar. Time for some likely idle banter whilst the others get to have fun.
Mentions:
Anaxileah
- responding to orders and reporting weapon status
archur
- chitchat
enterelysium
Procession of ghosts
Click-click chittered with displeasure at the sea of bodies outside of the craft, their beady insectoid eyes darting between the multitude of corpses. They dragged their eyes away from it, turning around and beginning to lope out of the bridge without saying anything, their antenna raised and the spines along their back sticking straight up like hairs on a human's arms. They knew the engine would run well, it was their baby, perfectly repaired and maintained, so now they would go visit their other baby, in the gig bay.
Whispering under their breath, they cradle the beautifully carved hunk of metal in front of them. "you will fly today my pretty, out there with the bodies yes? I need you to fly reliably for me. I need you to fly well and fly fast. what? no? the engine should be fine! don't worry about the ship, I have taken care of it well, we are focussing on you for now." they chittered gently, caressing the sphere before getting up and loping out of the bay, carrying a small device coated in buttons with them.
They entered the gunner room, glancing around to make sure spoons and Vanna were there. "I have made a device, a special device. I can attach it to the gun, your gun, and it will scan for anomalies and the sort, like a drone yes? Like a little robot friend helping out." They chittered hopefully at the two gunners, adjusting the flower inserted into their spiny antenna, Expressing as close to a smile as an Uk'a nn't'alo can.
DarkianMaker
archur
-chit chat
Whispering under their breath, they cradle the beautifully carved hunk of metal in front of them. "you will fly today my pretty, out there with the bodies yes? I need you to fly reliably for me. I need you to fly well and fly fast. what? no? the engine should be fine! don't worry about the ship, I have taken care of it well, we are focussing on you for now." they chittered gently, caressing the sphere before getting up and loping out of the bay, carrying a small device coated in buttons with them.
They entered the gunner room, glancing around to make sure spoons and Vanna were there. "I have made a device, a special device. I can attach it to the gun, your gun, and it will scan for anomalies and the sort, like a drone yes? Like a little robot friend helping out." They chittered hopefully at the two gunners, adjusting the flower inserted into their spiny antenna, Expressing as close to a smile as an Uk'a nn't'alo can.
DarkianMaker
archur
-chit chat
Epiphany
Proverbs 17:9
Anaxileah
The Mardisti Anomaly. Any section of space that had visible pieces of metal, debris, corpses and the like was a place saturated with such things, in I:SILME's experience. Space was vast. But so was this graveyard of ships. Observing the wreckage and the corpses via her workstation, the Harbinger frowned slightly before shaking her head a bit sadly. Of course, the Harbinger had come to this galaxy expecting to do much the same to the organic life here. But she'd been built to understand that life. Seeing so much of it ended prematurely was unsettling.
At Akra's order, I:SILME gave a sharp "Aye, sir" and indeed prepped her gunnery post, running through the quick diagnostics that would identify a hard failure caused by an impact collision or something else. Of course, this vessel had a thorough inspection back at port but all sorts of things could happen once a ship was underway.
The Captain's order to gear up resulted in I:SILME showing up in the gig with a toolkit in one hand and her portable sensor array carried in a bag in the other. Her Harbinger T11-Guise Suite had reprinted her clothing into a uniform black jumpsuit with a miniature logo of the ship on the left breast pocket area. I:SILME was first and foremost a scientist, but dressing like a mechanic usually resulted in keeping cleaner in open environments like the one they were heading into. She opted to carry her Type 1 Photonic Coalescence Emitter Blade securely fastened to her waist via a Smart Attach point, in case personal defense became necessary. As Akra hadn't specified it was one of 'those' missions, I:SILME did not bring either her pistol or her infantry armor. Besides, her companions would likely carry more than enough firepower to deal with anything they encountered out there. Particularly Mya.
Mechking
Dave's antics were unsurprising after this long and yet his behavior remained a profound outlier. Perhaps he wasn't the species he appeared to be? It would explain a great deal. But who would make him up to look the way he did? And to what purpose? Organic intrigue?
I:SILME simply looked in Dave's direction and pondered the enigmatic man.
Athanas
Cerval's presence always disconcerted I:SILME but she generally ascribed that to the man being, in his own way, as enigmatic as Dave. She simply couldn't get a good baseline on him that made sense in reference to any organic species she had data on. Even now, bringing all the gadgetry he'd chosen to bring with, Cerval sounded unsure. The Harbinger would have thought him truly unsure, if she hadn't seen him in combat before.
No wonder she had yet to tire of crewing this ship, with so many fascinating organic case studies to follow.
Nebulous Stars
I:SILME set her sensor array down and rested a hand on her wife's flank, drawing comfort from the Nierak-Ti's presence. Even from the way Mya's energy output felt along I:SILME's passive sensors. She felt familiar. A point of certainty no matter how uncertain things ahead might be. They'd come to countless salvage sites like this one...well, perhaps no site had been quite this gory but despite the random variables, Mya was her first and favorite constant.
"Keep your eyes open, dear," I:SILME said softly to the much taller woman beside her. "I'll be searching for value and analyzing data as we move, as usual. And while my processors are capable of fully tracking my environment, I'm well aware your inherent sensors are better than mine in their way, and I like knowing I can focus on my work because you're focused on everything else."
Anaxileah
Smiling fondly, I:SILME turned her attention back to Akra and waited for orders.
archur
watch for the flash
As Vanna sat at the terminal, she stared into the void that the cannon's cameras picked up. Nothing, asides from the endless void and infrequent blips of objects nearby the gun. Bodies and shrapnel mostly, the former bouncing harmlessly off the ship and the latter shearing off paint from the Sunspear. Her ears perked up as a heavier set of footsteps approached the room, a semi-brisk clunk-clunk-clunk of heavy footsteps on metal floors. She could only infer it was one of few people, and from the lack of introduction as they entered the room, she'd assumed it was either Cerval or Jakka.
"Flak cannon station operational and primed." Yeah, it was Jakka. Cerval usually wasn't that quiet for that long without whispering or making himself known through some other nervous tic. "Hey Blue, ready to be sat here with nothing happening for hours once more?" A greeting? Probably for the captain. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jakka's eyes directly on her. No, it was meant for her, but then why did she hear it in her earpiece? Was it because they were both blue? But they were different shades of blue which made some sense. She did hear that second part over the earpiece, right? Was she hearing things? Did he think she would ignore him? She usually did to be honest, since she usually ignored most everyone on the ship to do some task that was entirely about bettering herself in some way. That's what she thought the crew wanted out of her in the first place.
Now, she realized she'd been looking at him for some time without saying anything.
Her expression was still dead, grim as usual as she stared at him, as if peering into his soul. "That was to me, right?" She said awkwardly. Trying out this whole 'talking' thing was foreign to her. Thankfully, the door opened a second time behind her, and the comparatively silent footsteps of their engineer came in.
"I have made a device, a special device. I can attach it to the gun, your gun, and it will scan for anomalies and the sort, like a drone yes? Like a little robot friend helping out." They said, adding little clicks and chirps to the end of their sentence to accentuate... emotion? Had she never noticed that before? She always assumed Click-click was simply making extra noise as a part of their dialect, she never considered what the purpose of it meant. Hearing this made her realize that the chip made her miss more than a few things since they weren't 'important'. What else had she missed? Her crewmates must think she's some sort of emotionless robot or something.
Isn't that what she was trying to achieve?
FOCUS.
Their ship's engineer had a support item, and was willing to let them test it out for the upcoming potential battle. This would be very useful.
"Yes, thank you. We would love to have it." She took a breath to gather herself and pull her thoughts away from 'sounding weird'. "Can you please attach it to the flak piece? I'm sure I'll be fine here, my aim is perfectly honed."
DarkianMaker
enterelysium
"Flak cannon station operational and primed." Yeah, it was Jakka. Cerval usually wasn't that quiet for that long without whispering or making himself known through some other nervous tic. "Hey Blue, ready to be sat here with nothing happening for hours once more?" A greeting? Probably for the captain. She glanced over her shoulder and saw Jakka's eyes directly on her. No, it was meant for her, but then why did she hear it in her earpiece? Was it because they were both blue? But they were different shades of blue which made some sense. She did hear that second part over the earpiece, right? Was she hearing things? Did he think she would ignore him? She usually did to be honest, since she usually ignored most everyone on the ship to do some task that was entirely about bettering herself in some way. That's what she thought the crew wanted out of her in the first place.
Now, she realized she'd been looking at him for some time without saying anything.
Her expression was still dead, grim as usual as she stared at him, as if peering into his soul. "That was to me, right?" She said awkwardly. Trying out this whole 'talking' thing was foreign to her. Thankfully, the door opened a second time behind her, and the comparatively silent footsteps of their engineer came in.
"I have made a device, a special device. I can attach it to the gun, your gun, and it will scan for anomalies and the sort, like a drone yes? Like a little robot friend helping out." They said, adding little clicks and chirps to the end of their sentence to accentuate... emotion? Had she never noticed that before? She always assumed Click-click was simply making extra noise as a part of their dialect, she never considered what the purpose of it meant. Hearing this made her realize that the chip made her miss more than a few things since they weren't 'important'. What else had she missed? Her crewmates must think she's some sort of emotionless robot or something.
Isn't that what she was trying to achieve?
FOCUS.
Their ship's engineer had a support item, and was willing to let them test it out for the upcoming potential battle. This would be very useful.
"Yes, thank you. We would love to have it." She took a breath to gather herself and pull her thoughts away from 'sounding weird'. "Can you please attach it to the flak piece? I'm sure I'll be fine here, my aim is perfectly honed."
DarkianMaker
enterelysium
Last edited:
Nebulous Stars
A Convincing Mirage
Mya observed their surroundings as they passed through the field of destroyed ships and corpses without real shock. She could feel from the emotions of the crew that most were at least somewhat disturbed. She mourned for the loss of life, but honestly the destruction wrought here had little impact on her. It was violent, but she had seen the ways that the Lyrshuul acted on the ships and bodies of other races, and the wild unknowable havoc that wreaked was hard to match.
The part of her mind that had been trained for war noted the way the damage was done, and the seeming pointlessness of the brutality. Frankly the way the ship was damaged resembled what she knew of the way the elders of the species would go to war, but the destruction wrought on the bodies did not. She hadn’t really had to seriously use her training yet out here among the Junkers, but if whatever had done this was still around she rather suspected she would have to.
She regarded the ships weapon she stood next to briefly. She could sense it’s inner workings, and it was running at full capability with no issue she could detect. She had been babysitting it as they arrived, more than ready for the Captain’s orders. Pre-prepared as it was she set off promptly to join the rest assigned to the gig. As she joined her wife aboard the she felt the familiar peace that her presence brought her. When Isilme touched her she leaned ever so slightly into the contact and the increased ability to feel the energy that flowed through her.
She listened as she spoke, humming in vague agreement. After a moment she spoke quietly, a vague whisper to most, but she knew her wife would hear, “If whatever did that is still there get back to the ship and keep me between it and you if you can. I suspect it will at best be a Real Fight if it comes to it.” Almost unconsciously she unsheathed her upper arms and held them over her back, cycling them through the combat formations. It was an uncommon but likely known sight. It wasn’t the best sign though. Her upper arms moved from long, curved blades, to short blunt hammers, to serrated triple blades, and most formations between. Her lower left arm reached out to her wife and lightly brushed her shoulder, as if reassuring herself of the shared presence. She waited there, ready for orders and ready for a fight.
Addressed:
Epiphany
Present: everyone aboard the gig
The part of her mind that had been trained for war noted the way the damage was done, and the seeming pointlessness of the brutality. Frankly the way the ship was damaged resembled what she knew of the way the elders of the species would go to war, but the destruction wrought on the bodies did not. She hadn’t really had to seriously use her training yet out here among the Junkers, but if whatever had done this was still around she rather suspected she would have to.
She regarded the ships weapon she stood next to briefly. She could sense it’s inner workings, and it was running at full capability with no issue she could detect. She had been babysitting it as they arrived, more than ready for the Captain’s orders. Pre-prepared as it was she set off promptly to join the rest assigned to the gig. As she joined her wife aboard the she felt the familiar peace that her presence brought her. When Isilme touched her she leaned ever so slightly into the contact and the increased ability to feel the energy that flowed through her.
She listened as she spoke, humming in vague agreement. After a moment she spoke quietly, a vague whisper to most, but she knew her wife would hear, “If whatever did that is still there get back to the ship and keep me between it and you if you can. I suspect it will at best be a Real Fight if it comes to it.” Almost unconsciously she unsheathed her upper arms and held them over her back, cycling them through the combat formations. It was an uncommon but likely known sight. It wasn’t the best sign though. Her upper arms moved from long, curved blades, to short blunt hammers, to serrated triple blades, and most formations between. Her lower left arm reached out to her wife and lightly brushed her shoulder, as if reassuring herself of the shared presence. She waited there, ready for orders and ready for a fight.
Addressed:
Epiphany
Present: everyone aboard the gig
