TheCommoner
Loyal Guardsman
For OOC, click here.
For Character Sheets, click here.
For the in-character OOC where you're at a bar, click here.
For lore, click here.
COORDINATES LOCKED.
THRUSTERS CALIBRATED.
DESCENT ENGAGED.
Thus came the sounds of an automated, feminine voice aboard the shuttle. On board were some of the most promising of applicants for a high risk, high reward contract sponsored by the Galactic Salvage Corporation. The shuttle rattled and creaked as it left the Sternwork's Gravitational Field, sailing smoothly through space if only for a brief moment, before rattling violently as it began to enter the blasted and ruined Nurita's own gravity. Alarms blared, flashing red lights buzzed throughout the passenger cabin, until at last, one final nausea inducing bump, as the shuttle finally landed. The tightly sealed ramp leading down to the planet's surface depressurized with a hiss, before finally permitting the hazy red and purple light of the sky flood into the cabin. The air was heavy, and reeked of sulfur.
LANDING COMPLETE. HAVE A NICE DAY.
Not too soon after their confirmed landing did a voice break through the static. Those with sophisticated headgear would simply hear this voice through their built-in radios. Those bold enough to do without, conveniently, the speakers on board the shuttle, having previously transmitted automated messages from the shuttle, began to feed through this man's voice, as well.
For Character Sheets, click here.
For the in-character OOC where you're at a bar, click here.
For lore, click here.
COORDINATES LOCKED.
THRUSTERS CALIBRATED.
DESCENT ENGAGED.
Thus came the sounds of an automated, feminine voice aboard the shuttle. On board were some of the most promising of applicants for a high risk, high reward contract sponsored by the Galactic Salvage Corporation. The shuttle rattled and creaked as it left the Sternwork's Gravitational Field, sailing smoothly through space if only for a brief moment, before rattling violently as it began to enter the blasted and ruined Nurita's own gravity. Alarms blared, flashing red lights buzzed throughout the passenger cabin, until at last, one final nausea inducing bump, as the shuttle finally landed. The tightly sealed ramp leading down to the planet's surface depressurized with a hiss, before finally permitting the hazy red and purple light of the sky flood into the cabin. The air was heavy, and reeked of sulfur.
LANDING COMPLETE. HAVE A NICE DAY.
Not too soon after their confirmed landing did a voice break through the static. Those with sophisticated headgear would simply hear this voice through their built-in radios. Those bold enough to do without, conveniently, the speakers on board the shuttle, having previously transmitted automated messages from the shuttle, began to feed through this man's voice, as well.
"Welcome to the planet of Nurita, new and aspiring employees. I am Cristobel, and I will be serving as your eyes, ears, and to-do list for as long as you remain planetside. I'm certain we will have plenty of banter ahead, so let me go ahead and give you the specifics now, since it appears quiet enough."
"I'm uploading a global map to any applicable computerized suit, to give you context. We have currently deployed you in the city of Westbuckle, along the planetary land belt. Your duty is simple: this city must be cleansed. I will be deploying a few care packages throughout the city, here in a moment. Within these care packages, too big for your passenger shuttle, is specialized terraforming equipment. Make use of them to cleanse the air and clear this hellish miasma. Alongside that, your own personal equipment should be satisfactory enough for your "secondary" cleaning duties, which is to say, any nasties that come crawling out of the woodworks to slice, pummel, stab, devour, shoot, blast etcetera etcetera, you and your squadron. To put it simply: if it shows hostile intent, make it regret doing so."
Cristobel's transmission briefly paused, as the computer jockey leaned back in his leather chair, safely on board the station. The creaking of his chair still readily bled through the mic, as the shuttle gave off yet another depressurizing hiss, as hydraulic limbs began to pull away something that had been loaded to the top of the shuttle. It appeared to be a robot of sorts, folded up and dormant, until it booted up with a friendly ping, and reaching its full shape.
"Deployed alongside you is our signature Salvage And Defense Automaton, or S.A.D.A. for short. S.A.D.A's programming compels her to stay by your side, collecting any shiny bits she might find, as well as serve as a spotter for any nasties you haven't yet noticed. We have programmed her to obey each of your commands, and she will seek out and store away any valuables you point out, and can indeed join any fight you require. As for how S.A.D.A. can provide combat support, she is integrated with a pair of rather ancient AA-12 automatic shotguns; good for maybe two or three reloads. Treat one another well, as your wellbeing may very well depend on each other and S.A.D.A. Now! Should you require anything additional of myself or the company, send me a transmission and a set of coordinates. Other than that, you'll likely not hear from me until it is time to defend yourselves. You'll be quite pleased to know this job offers significant autonomy in how you approach planetary salvage. So good luck, be safe, but most importantly... have fun."
With that, Cristobel left the planetside crew in blissful radio silence, content to simply have his microphone muted, tuning in to S.A.D.A's camera feed. Through that robot, he could see the city of Westbuckle in crisp 4k. A lower resolution, but still decent enough.
The city around them resembled something war-torn, and apocalyptic. Ruined and rusted vehicles lined the streets, the various skyscrapers and apartments looked vividly bombed out, and the sky above was quite reminiscent of Hell. Or worse yet, Space Hell. Even the wind blowing through sounded monstrous, just a few speed ticks short of a gale, with an echoing, low roar in the distance. Beyond that, the planet was ghastly silent...
The city around them resembled something war-torn, and apocalyptic. Ruined and rusted vehicles lined the streets, the various skyscrapers and apartments looked vividly bombed out, and the sky above was quite reminiscent of Hell. Or worse yet, Space Hell. Even the wind blowing through sounded monstrous, just a few speed ticks short of a gale, with an echoing, low roar in the distance. Beyond that, the planet was ghastly silent...