Futuristic Sky Dreamer: (IC)

[Darrian_Gabriel]

Gabriel calmly sat in the spacious cockpit and blankly stared out into the vast infinite blackness of outer space from the two large port windows. There was something about the quietness, the sereneness of the universe that set his mind at ease. He places a finger on his forehead as a split second reminder of the chaos that engulfed his life over a decade ago, briefly flashes through his thoughts. It all seemed as if those events were the recollections of someone else’s life. The person he was now was so different, if he were to somehow travel back, he was sure he wouldn’t even recognize himself. He squirmed slightly in his seat as he looks over silently at his co-pilot. Silas went on about his duties, almost oblivious to the fact that Gabriel was even there. He winces and momentarily shakes his head. He than flipped a switch on the mammoth console of the flight deck in front of him.

“Commander’s mission log, day nine. We’re about twenty hours out on our return trip from Dante Mining Outpost WWXV9-5. So far this is has been the epitome of routine. We’re hauling back over four kilotons of unrefined Crystherium. Freight protocol has gone without a hitch and with any luck, The Traverse will be back in port at Sector HQ in about three solar days, four tops. I’ve decided to travel through the back roads of the shipping lanes and yes I’m talking about the so called Wicked Space Vector Routes. Bunch of superstitious malarkey if you ask me. True it’s not exactly the most well patrolled space lanes, but it’s a shortcut I’ve been wanting to try for awhile now. So like I said, with any luck we’ll back in port within a few solar days, making this one of the smoothest hauling jobs I’ve ever done, knock on wood.

But as a side note, incoming sensors indicate were closing in on Uni-Forces Checkpoint Base. Now fingers crossed, but hopefully they’ll be so back logged with incoming vessels, they’ll just wave us on through without so much as a weigh in. Better yet, they might not even pick us up on their scans…”

No sooner than Gabriel finishes his sentence, he is interrupted by an incoming transmission.

“Come in unidentified freight runner. This is Uni-Forces Checkpoint Gamma Sector Base. We’re picking you up on the extreme horizon of our sensors. We’re requesting a docking visa for formal weigh in and security inspection. Do you copy, over?”

Gabriel smirks as he places his tongue firmly into his cheek “Sons of bitch’s ears must’ve been twitching. Goddamit.” He mutters to himself as he switches frequencies from the ships’ log to live voice transmission with the Check Point Base.

“Roger that Check Point Base. This is Commander Gabriel Castillo. I’m coming in with a G.C. Class Four Freight Hauler. Designation “Traverse”, serial number 29JYTF67890.”

“Copy that Commander, we’ll need a cargo identification and estimated freight tonnage.”

“Roger…we got about four kilotons of Crystherium in the raw.”

“Thank you for that Commander, we’re gonna go head and request you start bringing your vessel in towards the base. You are clear to dock in Bay Nine, Port 006. Also Commander we’re gonna request that you and your crew submit to a Procedural DNA Data Scan. Do you give your consent to that sir?”

Gabriel rolls his eyes and whispers “Why the fuck not. Copy that Check Point Base. The crew of the Traverse formally consent to a DNA Data Scan. Deploying Docking Web now and we’ll be making landing contact in approximately one hundred seventy mycrots. My co-pilot is sending telemetry now..” says Gabriel as he nods to Silas.

“Receiving telemetry and confirming your landing in one hundred seventy mycrots. Your cooperation is much appreciated and we’ll see you in Bay Nine.”

“Thank you.” says Gabriel, his eyes deadpan with annoyance.

“Thank you sir.”

The Commander leans back in his padded seat and sighs, before switching on the ships com link system “Ok grease monkeys, this is your illustrious commander. A Uni-Forces Checkpoint nut stomping squad will boarding very shortly to make the rounds. You guys know the drill. Make sure the cargo is secured, your guts are tucked in and all the white powder is off your lips…I’m specifically talking to you Scutter. Oh yea, they’ll also be taking DNA Data Scans, you have permission to silently give me the finger now and your welcome. Let’s make this bullshit as quick and painless as possible. The sooner we get to HQ, the sooner we get paid. Thank you and have a nice fucking day. Castillo out…”

Gabriel switches off the com system and begins his usual pre-landing procedures “Ok Mr. Silas, let’s bring her in. Nice and steady.”

dae mec Zaltusinel Tempestus birmiethewormie tarandus Zeth

 

[Zeth]

"Preparing for the approach. Nice and steady."

Meticulously dedicating himself to the task at hand, Silas flipped a switch, fingered the ear-com bead and gently moved nav-stick, attempting to inch the ship in ideal position for maneuvering to the station and onward into the waiting Bay 9. It became characteristic of Silas, to project that sense of reliability and blue-collared heartiness, almost like grounded grace of a master craftsman. Much like them, the residing on-board Papa was known to be stern and incredibly deliberate when dedicating himself at the task at hand and he expected much the same from others. However where a craftsman saw just a tool, due to Silas's origins he took to heart and was even fond of, the ship itself, often treating the Traverse as part of the crew.

"Initiating docking maneuvers. Preparing to fire the docking web. With your permission Commander."

Not many would guess his artificial origins when confronted with this comely, middle-aged man and more then a few people were shocked by such revelations. He suspected anyone would be, but often he shocked himself at the scattered and even fearful directions his thoughts took lately. He knew such distracted behavior was not so strange in aging humans, especially to those in a more advanced age, but to detect it in himself was worrying. He thought he had more time. And in space, there was no room for a mistake. Not really.
Lately, he was becoming ever-more afraid and the rotational mind-wipes did not help with this.

"Just a routine check I am sure." he added casually with a grin, not moving his eyes from the screens: "We'll be quickly on our way and then we can eat."

To combat this fear, he would often talk with the crew, enjoying the incredibly useful ceremony for his situation - that of the family meal. Taking a moment to scratch his scruffy graying beard, he added:

"I'll splurge a bit on rations today. Who knows maybe Jesus could make something edible from our slops of protein."

 

[Tempestus]

Marv​

"This land is your land. This land is my land..." he hummed to himself as he broke off some crumbs to feed Teddy. Marv wedged himself between an I beam and an air scrubber where only an emergency light filled the dark hollow. Bridging the gap was a small hammock which essentially served as his quarters these past weeks.

Down here in the bilge, nobody bothered him. He had the Delgados to contend with, but they seemed to keep busy and consequently handled most of the wet work. With this, Marv found ample time to fart around both on and off the clock.

"Mm...there ya go. Heh heh." The rat's demeanor appreciated slightly as it stood on its hind legs. The same granules Marv fed his companion he also munched on himself, leaving a faint residue across his mustache.

"I'm talking to you, Scutter," came the intercom. Marv didnt even realize it was broadcasting until he got called out. Hastily, he placed Teddy back in the vent grate by his head and brushed off all the excess from his uniform. Dry docks liked things looking clean, he knew. Done it a hundred times from both sides of the glass, but when the captain tells you to do something, you do it!

Actions: "Readying" for inspection; moving to Cargo Bay - Inbound/Outbound Ramp.

 

[dae mec]

Lu-Lee cheerfully took full use of Gabriel's 'permission' and flipped him the double bird. "Oh, come on... a DNA ass prod? You know those bastards always give me a hard time."

Somehow, for some inconceivable reason, her visibly half-synthetic head always made them suspicious. It didn't help that as the ship's medic, she was required to provide local medical supervision on any bio-tests. So they lingered on Lu-Lee, as if to make sure she wasn't hacking something with her glowing eye.

As she spoke, Lu-Lee pulled up three different items in her built-in HUD. The first was her favorite episode of the Ultimate Mecha Championships—the finale from six seasons back—to provide some internal background noise. The second was the list of rules, regulations, and expectations for the ship's medical officer during this kind of boarding. She knew most of it by this point, but she was still a professional.

The last was her financial spreadsheet: the captain's mention of pay had reminded her to check. Lu-Lee was actually quite frugal with her salary. Most of her money got tucked away for her distant retirement—and the mech she planned on buying for her mid-life crises. A third was for her family, a duty she shared with her much richer older sister: their youngest sister's living costs on the bonkers-expensive Temple Earth, their parents' much-deserved retirement, and a little something for their favorite baby cousins.

Lu-Lee always set a sliver aside for frivolous expenses, like the personal upgrades she did to her augments or her stupid spicy food kick, but... she eyed the remainder in the last savings account. Lu-Lee had thought about taking the plunge to bump up her ranking. Right now, she was the equivalent of a Nurse Practitioner; fully authorized to practice medicine without supervision, but without the nice "doctor" in front of her name. She could afford to get an M.D. now, and it'd be nice to have a change, even if it required more schooling... Eh, she'd consider it after they finished this run.

She grinned at Silas' comment. "Didn't know you were that kind of father, Silas. Sure as fuck need divine intervention for that." Lu-Lee sighed into the comm. "Dunno bout the food either, but maybe we could piggy off the Uni's signal. I didn't get them last few episodes of Oh Captain, I've Fallen For My Mech Suit! Hell of a cliff hanger, and I know how much you love that soap."

 

[Zaltusinel]

Kasey Menyton #1

Kasey nodded on and on as the comms buzzed to life, first time in a while. His eyebrows raised as Gabriel spoke. Then as Silas spoke, Kasey laid down the crimson glory known as his PDA. A break from hours of debugging the ship's slapdash code was in order, no matter the interruption. Luckily, the ship will stop displaying "Unicorn City" as the selected designation everywhere. This didn't happen on the bridge. Gabriel be on him to fix it if that was the case. Hard to tell why it was there, but Kasey didn't care to know. As Marv continued to mutter in the speaker, Kasey chuckled a little. Kasey didn't mind, but also didn't mind the lack of talk on comms.


Though, his teeth grinded together on the thought of a DNA procedure. "As long as they don't mistake me for my brother or have problems with my babyface again, this will probably be quick. We're not talking about the time these guys thought I was fourteen. Somehow that happened." Though as he said it, Kasey never mentioned why it took so long that time. Well, I guess they know now. Oh well.

Kasey wiped down his desk and workshop countertops, putting the tools back in place and checking the containers and shelves. He opened one large freezing unit spotting a large stash of coconuts. Oh wiped across his face. He turned back on his comms.

"On the food department, I fixed up some equipment for the miners, so I managed to score some coconuts. Probably can drape that over the protein."

On that, Kasey straightened the screens with pictures of his son and tided his computer. Maybe he receive an update on his son, but Kasey sighed and turned away knowing that possibility was too rare. Staring back at him was his reflection within a normal mirror.

"Some people have a picture of their other half; I have our reflection. Because there isn't another person I could complete than you, Markus." Kasey stood, waiting for the authorities to arrive. Hopefully, he could bum off those episodes that Lu-Lee would be downloading, for Kasey did in fact enjoy that soap.

 

[birmiethewormie]

Diego Delgado was a dead man.

Beads of sweat dripped down his forehead, and he could feel his heart beat in his ears as he carefully maneuvered his speeder through the treacherous dunes. Behind him roared the engines of at least four other speeders, though he wasn't sure to their exact number. He was outnumbered, and outgunned, and outclassed - these men were far higher levels than he was. And, of course, they landed the critical blow, right to the power source of his speeder. It combusted in a glorious flame, and Diego sighed in frustration. Holo-speeding was one of his favorite past times despite his seemingly miraculous ability to suck at it.

He stood up from his desk and peered through the window of his small room into the cosmos. A station lay ahead, and he cursed himself, realizing his break had long ended. Marvs gonna be pissed.

A moment after that thought, and Diego received a notification on his telepad. He grabbed it, hoping to see anyone but Marv's name. Luckily, it wasn't, but maybe even worse. Men were coming aboard to do DNA tests. Diego always hated those damn tests - and he didn't see much the point either.

Groaning, he threw on his cargo-tech top and made his way to the cargo bay.

 

[tarandus]

Jesus, hearing a voice come in over the comms, looks up from the task he was working on. He's a Delgado man, he takes his work very seriously! So seriously that he barely heard a word of what was said. He was too entranced in the monotonous opening and closing of crates, making notes, and pacing back and forth. "Make sure the cargo is secured... DNA scan... give me the finger... get paid... Castillo out."

"Sounds like I caught the important parts," Jesus thinks, looking at his surroundings. "I'm already in the cargo bay." He declares in his head, nodding smugly to himself. Jesus moves further down the row, mentally inspecting and checking if things are secured. Bossman Marv's probably nearby somewhere, he'll have a better picture of what needs doing. Jesus isn't sure if Marv is really his boss, but there seems to be a suitable level of seniority deserving of the title. Delgados respect seniority.

Jesus hears a remark from Silas about his cooking, and beams proudly. "Ai ai! Delgado cooking! They know what I'm good for. Good thing, too, because Diego would send that particular claim to fame right into the dirt." He mutters to himself. "Coconuts, huh?" He thinks.

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

The Traverse glided in gracefully, being guided by the expert hand of Gabriel, with Silas providing secondary navigational and logistical maneuvering. As the vessel got closer, it was obvious that check point Gamma Sector Base was no small operation. This was a gargantuan space port specializing in freight stop off and weigh in, transport inspections and military connecting outfits. The entire base orbited a blue hyper giant star named SH-76t within the Shiva Star System. The Gamma Base was made up of dozens of levels, with hundreds of different space craft docking, arriving and departing. The Traverse meandered it’s way through the confusing maze of ships, satellites and infrastructure until they neared one of the top levels of the Base labeled BAY 9.

"Initiating docking maneuvers. Preparing to fire the docking web. With your permission Commander". said Silas.

Gabriel’s eyes danced over the console as he brought up several holo screens, monitoring the ship’s side sensors “Ok Mr. Silas, deploy docking web, now.”

A brilliant grid of red targeting lasers, fired off from the ship’s front hull and bathe the docking port in an incandescent red hue. The Traverse gently touches down and anchors into place as several hydraulic jets blast out of the ship’s under chassis as the space freighter settles into place.

“Text book smooth touch down as usual Mr. Silas. If you’d be so good as to put the post flight systems into standby mode. I’ll meet you down at the docking ramp with the rest of the crew.” says Gabriel as he flicks off a few more switches on the console and casually makes his way out of the cockpit.

Down near the docking ramp, Gabriel is pleased to see that his crew hasn’t ignored him and have all gathered to greet the Uni-Forces inspection patrol. Even though everyone is present, Gabe could tell that they were not exactly thrilled with the interruption.

“Stow the long faces guys, I’m not jumping outta my skin with excitement either. But what’a gonna do, it’s the Uni-Forces for cripes sake, it’s not like we get a vote for this kinda shit.”

The Commander looks over and sees Lu-Lee watching several screens on her HUD “Pack the screens away Lee, besides I can tell you that the Drill Scarver buries the GT Doom Clincher in the seventh season finale, very anti climactic.” he says matter of factly, alluding to the point that she was watching Ultimate Mecha Championships, a show which Gabriel himself had been a fan of for years.

A few moments later, the rear blast doors of the docking ramp slowly creak open and in enters a squad of intimidating looking Uni-Forces troops, all decked out in sleek black cybernetic armor and carrying Scythe model plasma rifles.

“Commander Castillo, I presume.” says the lead trooper as he extends his hand.

Gabriel reluctantly shakes the man’s hand “That would be me.”

“It’s a pleasure Commander, I’m Captain Conover and my patrol will be conducting your inspection.” says Conover as he removes his helmet.

“Captain…, the Chrystherium is on lock down in the west hangar. My chief cargo tech, Scutter, can take you through that. Anything else you need, we’ll try to accommodate you, we’re in a bit of rush. Deadlines ya know.”

“I understand completely Commander. Jenkins, Hurd…why don’t you boys see to the cargo. I’ll start with the DNA Scans.” says Conover as he waves two of his men over to Scutter. “If you and the rest of your crew could kindly expose your left forearms, we’ll conduct our scans and we’ll get you on your way.”

Gabriel pulls up one of the sleeves of his flight suit as Conover places a small device onto his exposed arm. A few seconds later, the read out monitor blinks to life and the Captain looks down at with a surprised expression “This seems to indicate you were born on Temple Earth. That’s a rarity, especially for out here.”

Gabriel gives a half hearted grin “Well good to know Captain. That thing say I’m clean?”

“Uh, yes sir…no warrants, no traces of molecular contraband and no suspicious biological agents. Your clear.”

“Well great, let’s wrap this up than, we all gotta paycheck to collect.” says Gabriel, a slight sigh of relief escaping his lips.

 

[Zeth]

It was perhaps, easier for Silas then for anyone else on-board, to visualize Traverse in motion. Reading sensor data from screens was one thing, but having direct access to those same sensors during flight, gave incredible vividness to the situation. It was all abstraction of course, but his access to the raw data before the internal logic engines rendered it as coherent graphical representation on a screen, gave him a sense of intimate connection with the machine. It was as if the algorithms, in massaging the information down to the human perception, inadvertently removed something important.

He knew this intimacy was merely a byproduct of Galacti-Corps ship-bounding him and in that regard, it was nothing special. In fact it was desired effect, in case the Android had to remotely complete several different tasks in different areas of the ship at the same time. However, Kotov-Yevschenko cyberneticists and meta-digitalists probably did not account for the psychological impact this might have had on the Android's worldview in the long run. Ability to facilitate intimate relationship with humans was a programmed imperative, bred in the birth-tank as an instinct, but his kinship with the machines was not - and Silas knew it was developing for quite some time in him, despite the rotational memory-wipes.

He exhaled in relief as they entered the Gamma Base interior, the mainframe computer feeding him information that was, moments later, displayed on the systems control board. Lacking the human half-second thought-action delay, coupled with direct access to the ship, made Silas an effective co-pilot, able to compensate for any of Gabriel's minute imperfections in maneuvering, as well as give increased sense of security as to control of situation at hand. A safety net of sorts.

Easing up any tension before mistakes had a chance to rear its head, he smuggled a mock chastisement as a way of reply: "Miss Lu-Lee, despite it being a major injury of the law to use the high-speed Uni-Force bandwidth to watch completely underrated holo-shows, I do believe the morale of the crew is of utmost importance. In your professional capacity as a ranking medical practitioner on-board, do you think otherwise? I'll let you consider that as we prepare for inspection."

In space however, they re-surfaced from the controlled chaos of the Gamma Sector Base all to way to one of the top levels, slowly coasting to their allotted bay. The landscape of metal, the zipping of patrol craft, blinking satellites in the distance and a blue star in the background, really made the view spectacular. Silas clipped the moment and stored it in the personal data-banks, knowing someone might enjoy these compilations of his.

Entering the Bay labeled 006, Traverse rotated ponderously 180 degrees, his fat stern turning to the stations interior. The maneuver was a procedure, as much out of security and ease of access to the main doors of any docking ship by station security personnel, as well as that of ease of exit, once the ship is ready to take-off.

Silas however, liked the maneuver because it always faced the cockpit toward the entrance of the station's bay.

“Text book smooth touch down as usual Mr. Silas. If you’d be so good as to put the post flight systems into standby mode. I’ll meet you down at the docking ramp with the rest of the crew.”

Nodding in appreciation at the comment, as Gabriel went to welcome the station's personnel, Silas took a moment longer as he powered-down the flight systems, giving the Traverse some much needed breather. Looking out from the cockpit, Papa enjoyed the view as other ships ponderously made their berths, security drones carefully gliding from bay to bay, and in general the incredible complexity of it all. He knew he was probably looking at the same view for who knows how many times but not remembering. Despite the artificial removal of those memory, perhaps some fragment remained or maybe artificiality of the gargantuan base simply eased him a bit, reassuring him and easing his loneliness.

"Aye, coconut paste does sound good. Maybe some milk as well."

Shaking the longing that suddenly gripped him, he stood up and after careful after-check of the instruments, he moved to the crew muster.

* * *​

Coming down the loading ramp with heavy steps, he winked and then nudged Marv's shoulder, pleased not only to see him in board daylight but also present at the muster. With his reticent behavior evident, Silas originally considered it a potential issue on a mission this hazardous, attempting early-on to expose Mr. Scutter to others, especially to Delgado brothers. The efforts were largely futile, but during their mission the two managed in-between themselves to find their own rhythm, which was something Silas was very pleased with. He thought to himself that the situation was not only strengthening the on-board stability but also offered mitigating factors in situations of prolonged stress.

Things are easier when done in groups. There is precious little space for privacy on-board a hauler.

Assuming the position in the muster, right next to Traverse's medic, he waited for the inspection. Looking to the medic, he noticed her chrome glinting in places under the bay's sterile lighting, her biological eye having that thousand-yards stare of the distracted. Probably watching a recording. That or she was shocked at the spoiler dropped by the Captain as he chided her, he couldn't tell.

Silas shared her enthusiasm for mechas but only so far. Her interest in fighting constructs and UMC's penchant for violence eluded the Android, the ambivalence rising to dislike at the reminder of gladiatorial pits of ancient history. Despite that, he wanted to console her, quickly analyzing for Doom Clincher's ultimate fate. However there was time for anything - including humor. Besides he didn't want to embarrass Gabriel in front of the security by having to deal with a chatty android past his expiry date - so he made a quick compromise:

Folding the sleeve of his checkered shirt, he presented a hairy forearm for scanning, winking at the cyborg beside him and whispering to her: "Don't worry - you can't keep a good robot down."

 

[dae mec]

Lu-Lee scratched her head, debated braiding her hair, and went for a functional ponytail instead. She'd already been in her uniform so she didn't have to change. She was presentable enough. Lu-Lee wasn't going to put on her face-prosthetic or dress up for them, but she wasn't gonna embarrass the crew either. She grabbed her PDA and exited her cramped personal quarters, hurrying to the docking ramp—the episode still playing in the corner of her cyber-eye, the guidelines pulled up in the other corner. Lu-Lee dismissed her spreadsheet, though. She had to save some brain power to deal with the Unis.

She grinned as Silas approached. Lu-Lee quite liked the older android, the other continuing member of the Trasverse; his nickname of "Papa Silas" was pretty accurate. Honestly, Silas did remind her of her own dad, though her appa had never been so gentle. Then again, she and her sisters had been a pack of hellions. Lu-Lee gave the android a distracted nod, her prepared comment forgotten in favor of focusing on a particularly brilliant maneuver by the GT Doom Clincher.

Then the commander told her to stop—with a spoiler—and she made a face but obeyed. (Yeah, so what if it was six seasons old and she'd seen it a dozen times? It was the principle of the matter, the journey, the thrill of the fight!) Whatever, Lu-Lee would grab the newest season of the UMC once the ship finished it's data-handshake with the sector base. And by the way Castillo talked about it, she bet he'd want to watch it too. Maybe Silas, but he and Kasey much preferred Oh Captain and a few other soaps. They were good, she admitted. Unexpectedly good, and not in an ironic kind of way.

Her interfaced PDA sent a ping to her HUD. Ah, there it was! The Unis sent over the paperwork just as the door opened. She perused the forms as the commander did the obligatory niceties to the UF captain. Consent forms, request for medical tests, etc., etc. Standard bullshit. Lu-Lee accepted them with an e-signature and sent them back.

"Don't worry - you can't keep a good robot down," Silas whispered before he submitted his arm.

She winked back—though only one eye was capable of doing it. (Did that make it a blink?) "Preach, padre."

Which reminded her... Lu-Lee sent a quick request to her PDA, and the device executed Program Oink. It was standard for the big-ass stations to let trawlers like theirs to use some bandwith to get updates; connection could be spotty in deep space. They throttled the uplink, though, meaning that high-use content like holos were a damn pain to get. Program Oink simply... widened it a bit, making it easier to piggy-back. Lu-Lee might run it, but it wasn't really her code. She'd picked it up from a colleague on a different ship, but Kasey had polished it quite a bit. Lu-Lee could fumble her way through, and she had a built-in helper, but she was no code-monkey. The physical stuff was much more her style.

She sent a text-ping through the secured comm-line to Kasey and Silas: "\o/ piggy free!".

Hmm... she'd forgotten to ask the new cargotechs about their show preferences. Lu-Lee sent them each a ping, to be answered at their leisure. (Jesus, on the other hand, was so cheerful that she almost felt bad about it. And Diego... he was interesting. Lu-Lee hadn't quite got a grasp on him yet. Marv, on the other hand, she was familiar with from last trip. He was a hilarious guy, the best to tease since the jokes went way over his head.)

Lu-Lee waited for her turn (and the program to finish), doing the 'supervisory capabilities' of watching them stick a device in an arm. She held out hers when the captain approached and jabbed her.

"Luciana Alesci-Lee?" he said.

"That's me. I'm the Traverse's medical officer, sir." Not even a hint of sass. She had to prove to the new commander that she could be official! Sometimes!

The captain stared at the device. "No contraband, but there's some non-standard biological particles registering on the scanners."

"Might be the giant metal plate in my face. And the supports in my back." She tapped her face. "... sir," she added belatedly. Okay, maybe a little sass. "They're anchored synthetically, but it's all legal. The prosthetics are personally modded and registered. I could send you the specs."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Yes, Alesci-Lee. Why don't you do that?"

Lu-Lee immediately sent over the proper files and held back a sigh. She wouldn't antagonize them... much.

 

[tarandus]

Jesus moved deftly through the cargo bay, towards the docking ramp. In his head, images of "protein with coconut à la Delgado" flash wildly. He isn't sure the flavor profile is really there, but, in his confidence that Diego couldn't do it better, he still grins to himself over it. On his way out of the cargo bay, he spots Diego rushing in from the direction of his room. His face warms up and his smile grows wider. "Diego! My brother!" Jesus shouts, striding towards him. Jesus reaches his arms up and places his hands on Diego's shoulders. "I remember when you still looked like my little brother!" Jesus laughs.

With a small round of affectionate patting, Jesus pulls his arms away. "Your head was up in the hologames again, huh? Marv probably wouldn't be happy, but don't worry, I can pick up your slack." Jesus shakes his head, "Slacking off, Diego! That's not very Delgado of you!" Of course, Jesus wasn't being serious with this remark, and smiles pointedly. "I'm heading to the docking ramp for the DNA tests. Always so fun!" He says as he turns around, adopting a mocking tone towards the end.

As Jesus puts some distance between himself and Diego, he can see the rest of the crew arriving. He looks back in Diego's direction, muttering under his breath about "where did his Delgado work ethic go?" and "he was much more diligent back on Mars" and "damn video games." He turns forward again and waves happily at the other crew members, lining up alongside them.

---

As the tests begin, Jesus watches Commander Gabriel get tested. He hears him mention collecting a paycheck, and remembers something he has to do. He watches the captain testing Silas, someone Jesus is quite fond of. Jesus' mobile PDA vibrates in the pocket of cargo-tech uniform. It's a few generations old, but it does the trick and isn't too confusing. Jesus never had much time for technology back on Mars. "I'll figure that out later." Then, he watches the Captain test Lu-Lee, a member of the crew Jesus has not been fortunate enough to have much interaction with. Or perhaps unfortunate, as she is the crew's only medical member.

When it's his turn, Jesus grudgingly holds out his arm for the man he's learned is named Captain Conover. "You want my Delgado blood?" He asks accusingly.

"Just for scanning." Replies the Captain.

"A likely story..." Jesus doesn't flinch at the prick of the needle, and watches with squinted eyes as the machine whirs to process the sample.

"Quite the lineage. Jesus Delgado. You're clear."

Jesus moves away as the Captain continues down the line. He calls out to the Commander, "Big Bossman! Wait up!" He calls, holding out his middle finger to the captain. "Middle finger, get paid! Woohoo!" He shouts, laughing heartily.

 

[birmiethewormie]

Diego rolled his eyes at Jesus' quips. He knew he was mostly kidding, but Diego found it a little irritable all the same. "Delgado worth ethic" - as if Diego wasn't one of the hardest working men he knew. Everyone lost their heads in the hologames sometimes. Hell, Diego was almost certain Lu-Lee was watching something through her eye, or at least doing something through it.

"Ah, Jesus, you know if I was working, the cargo-bay wouldn't be nearly this dusty." It was true the cargobay was quite dirty; Diego tried to clean it whenever he could. Especially when the ship is going to have visitors. At the least, Diego would look presentable. He tried his best to fix his hair and fixed his uniform.

He waited on the other side of Jesus as the men take the DNA scans of the Traverse's crew. Diego smiled at the captain's remark of their lineage, and still bore a devilish grin as the captain took some of Diego's own blood.

"Another Delgado? Other than your blood pressure, everything looks good." Diego took note of that. He supposed after the DNA testing was complete he could get some tests done by Lu-Lee.

 

[Zaltusinel]

Kasey Menyton #2
(#1 was done on my phone so sorry about shift in style)

Kasey carefully moved through the ship, locking up his workshop behind him. His eyes followed all of the displays of the ship, checking to see that they worked properly. His hands hid in his pants pockets, sticking his thumbs out almost haphazardly. The air felt stingy and tough, a clear sign of the ship's air supply sharing with the stations. Kasey huffed as he meandered past an air vent, knowing he'd make it to the line-up on time. Kasey closed the doors behind him that others or the ship's AI left open. Kasey passed by the server room for the ship's computers, peeking inside seeing flashing green lights and a screen left on. A command window ran in the background of it, with no text inside. A clear sign the ship's AI slithered into the GUI and user side of the computer systems. Kasey entered the room quickly, closing down the terminal and ensuring none of the other terminals were active. Kasey rolled his eyes as he debated whenever his own terminal in his workshop was on. Hopefully not, but as he opened the door to the debarkation station, it immediately closed. He presses the button and again, the door closes. Sighing and knowing that the Uni men likely have little patience, Kasey unhooked the power supply from the small grid located in the ceiling.

"For fuck's sake, I thought I fixed that. Oh well."

He carefully grasped the circular head of the fuse, letting the lights flicker off. Hopefully, the debarkation station would remain normal, but honestly, Kasey couldn't remember how segregated the electrical systems are. (Meaning, how much of the ships electrics connect to one fuse.) Then, he pushed his hands against the door sides with small thuds, strong arming the doors open. His hands quaked a little as red marks stretched both sides of his palms. He swings his hands side to side, approaching the rest of the crew and the Uni-Forces. He slid in line at the back, but the Uni-Force guards eyed Kasey. Being last to enter the line, he waves before one of them approaches him cautiously. The small-device wraps around his forearm, squeezing tight. His eyes followed the captain around.

"Sorry for my tardiness gentlemen, some electrical problems have delayed me."

"Clear, don't be late next time."

"I'll do just that if I can help it." Kasey sighed, waiting patiently for the procedure to be over. Calmly tapping his fingers against his arms. He chuckles as Jesus runs past towards Gabriel. Tossing the fuse in hand, he moseyed over to the disabled door and reinserted the fuse. The door immediately closed. Kasey sighed, reaching up into the ceiling to confirm no mechanical mishaps. Then he returned to his workshop to solve this problem again. It would not be uncommon for the other doors to be like this. Hopefully everything could be fixed before anyone else noticed.

 

[Tempestus]

"Pops," he nodded with three digits pinched across his skully cap. The motion was something like a tip of the hat from one gentleman to another. Marv didnt do this for just anyone, and yet Silas showed a gentle side which appealed to Marv's sensibilities. He felt more like a near friend than a "bucket a' bolts" as his former coworkers used to joke about with all the robot labor on Io.

While Marv stood there on the dock ramp in a daze from his moderate hemp high, he easily tuned out the situation. Oh, son of a biscuit eater! How could it not have dawned on him until just now? He knew he'd bleed dirty, and while THC wasn't a big deal at some smaller ports, this was a floating city which would be thorough with its paperwork. That meant reports. Reports Galacti-Corps followed up on.

Gritting his teeth in panic, he stared at the Unis' slow yet purposeful gait across the hangar floor. He had to think fast as they would be on the party in thirty seconds or less. Falling in line opposite Lu-Lee's side, he muttered in her ear, "Mm...ma'am. Gots a problem," pointing toward his pupil. Of course, it was fully dilated and his face now gave shape to a picture of resigned helplessness. He portrayed a bad puppy dependent on the good medic's forgiveness. "I know I done wrong," he pleaded. What she could do, he did not know. He heard about people flushing their systems the morning of a drug test but that involved copious amounts of water and a urine sample.

 

[dae mec]

Lu-Lee didn't need her medical interface overlay to realize that Marv was high. THC, she'd bet, and this time the interface did confirm that.

"Marv!" she hissed. Well, at least he knew that this was going to be a pain and a half. The report wouldn't just affect him; the Corps was a little too fond of guilt by association. Her mind whirled, and the solution that came to her was so simple that she almost rolled her eye. "Okay. Listen up. You pulled your left shoulder yesterday, alright? You're injured, a real minor thing, but it hurt pretty badly. I prescribed you THC for the pain, as a quick one-time dose. Got it?"

As she spoke, Lu-Lee quickly updated Marv's file with her interface. (Thank God for her implants; her frantically tapping away at the PDA would've been grossly obvious.) Her artificial eye didn't whirl or do anything dramatic, but her expression glazed for just a second as she rushed to get the paperwork in order.

"We're not going to do this again, hmm? Not before a test!" Lu-Lee clasped his equally uninjured right shoulder. She was totally replacing Marv's usual shows with the most annoying animated kid's-holo she could find. Both for payback, and because his confused, sad puppy expression would be entertaining enough to make up for this mess. Lu-Lee kept a straight face as the captain's PDA pinged with an update.

"New files?" he said slowly.

"Yeah, sorry. Forgot to send the updated ones!" Lu-Lee tried to give an innocent smile.

The captain didn't seem to be buying it that much, especially since she'd run her mouth to him before. "Right..." he said slowly. He took Marv's arm, ran a quick test, and stared at the screen. "There's nothing unaccounted for. Not anymore." The captain gave her another look. "Watch yourself, Officer Alesci-Lee. I'd hate to have to run an audit of your record keeping."

Lu-Lee kept smiling and said nothing.

 

[Tempestus]

"We're not going to do this again, hmm? Not before a test!" he heard her say as he nodded gratefully. Marv didnt fully grasp what she had done for him, but then again he didnt much grasp most things unless they were drilled in like a jackhammer. "Yes'm...yes'm, thank you." He then watched the captain approach and moderately chastise Lu-Lee for the jumble up. Feigning injury to his left shoulder, Marv did his best to look the part. The captain's piercing gaze landed on him, glancing between the two crew members.

“Captain…, the Chrystherium is on lock down in the west hangar. My chief cargo tech, Scutter, can take you through that. Anything else you need, we’ll try to accommodate you, we’re in a bit of rush. Deadlines ya know.”

The captain waved a couple troopers toward the Traverse's ramp, falling in step behind Marv. He was sweating bullets at this point. One more foul up could earn him his discharge papers, and here at last lied the real test. Crystherium in its rawest form exerted a bright red hue not unlike an uncut ruby - very beautiful to the naked eye but also extremely dangerous if not handled properly.

After passing a few secondary bulkheads, the boarding party arrived in the main cargo hold. Scattered throughout the floor stood various crates and containers ranging in size and shape. The Delgados took great pride in turning this area from a junkyard into a professionally filed set of rows. Marv half-smiled at the handiwork. Higher above toward the rafters hung lighter objects tightly fastened in poly-fiber webbing. These were typically mining uniforms and mail. Portside and starboard hangars exhibited multiple secured storage units with keypad encryption. Most were empty at the moment save the Chrystherium itself, which glimmered beyond the porthole to Longterm Storage Unit #7 (LSU7). The temperature in here was currently regulated to 22 degrees centigrade as per instructions. The container itself also facilitated an internal climate control system.

"Mm...there it is," he mumbled, removing his sweaty hat and ushering the men toward the glass.

"We're gonna need to enter this room," pinged one of the soldier's vox comms, the one they called Hurd. "Standard procedure."

Marv gritted his teeth momentarily before approaching the keypad. Before typing in the code, he turned his head toward them, expecting them to look away. They didnt.

"Open the containment," Hurd's comms opened again. Marv entered the code issued to him by the flight commander several hours ago, and the reinforced door slid upwards into the bulkhead. Jenkins stood outside with Marv while Hurd crouched down out of view behind the Chrystherium. Minutes seemed to pass before the one inspecting returned. "All clear," he said, and before Marv could take a breath they were already exiting the main cargo hold.

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

After Conover and his patrol finish conducting the majority of the Data Scans, the Captain starts to make his way back over to Gabriel “Your crew seem to check out Commander. Two of my boys are just checking out your cargo hold. You say your haulin a load of Chrystherium?”

“Sure am.” says Gabriel.

“Wow that’s some high grade merchandise. I didn’t know Galacti-Corps was into anything that lucrative.”

“Yea well, they got their hands in just about everything these days. Four kilotons of Chrystherium, worth over seventy platinum a pound. Lucrative isn’t the word for it.”

Conover smiles “I bet. You planning on taking the regular shipping lanes out?”

Gabriel becomes more impatient at Conover’s incessant prying “Probably not, we gotta schedule to keep so I’ll most likely be hittin up the back Vector Routes.”

Conover suddenly stops as a concerned look crosses his face “Back Vector Routes? You mean through Wicked Space?”

Gabriel nods nonchalantly “You got it.”

“I’m not sure that’ll be a viable option Commander.” says Conover.

“Why is that?” asks Gabriel raising his eyebrows.

“Wicked Space is notorious for freight piracy, there are almost no patrols out there…”

“We’re all big boys and girls here Captain, besides the Traverse is equipped with the best Nav systems I’ve ever seen on any ship, despite her age. We’ll be fine.”

“Well I’m afraid it’s Uni-Forces Policy we’re coming into conflict here Commander. Section 8-12 Theta clearly states that any unarmed commercial vessel needs a military convoy when entering any un patrolled part of a sector.”

“Look you don’t have to lecture me on Uni-Forces policy and code Captain! I used to be a Colonel with the Uni’s myself back in the day.” says Gabriel, his patience ebbing away.

“Well than you should know, there isn’t any way around this. My hands are tied here Commander. If I let you off this base knowing that you and your crew were entering un patrolled space, that’s my ass on the line.”

At that moment Hurd and Jenkins report back “Cargo hold is all clear Captain.”

“Thank you Lieutenant but there’s been a slight change in plans. I want you, Jenkins and Lambert to get a Falchion Tac ready.” says Conover.

“Sir?” asks Hurd, confused.

Conover turns back to face Gabriel, a stone serious look on his face “We’re gonna be providing Commander Castillo with a convoy escort through Wicked Space. I’ll personally head up this escort mission myself.”

“With all due respect Captain, I’m slated to go on leave within the next fifteen arns…”

“Well than your gonna have to postpone part of your leave than, won’t you Lieutenant?!” says Conover harshly to which Hurd submissively nods “Good, now get the Falchion ready.”

“Jenkins, Lambert…your with me on escort convoy!” yells Hurd as the rest of the patrol begin to exit off the landing ramp.

Gabriel aggressively gets up in Conover’s face “Do you have any idea how long a convoy requisite takes to get through Uni Central Command?! We could be stuck here for God knows long and in case you’ve forgotten…my crew have a deadline to make!”

Conover smiles with an arrogant smug on his face “No worries Commander, things are a lot more streamlined with the Uni’s than they were back in your day. I’ll do all the requisites and channel hopping on the Falchion, no waiting time required. Just give me a few mycrots to get on board with my patrol and we’ll be ready to head out, right behind you of course.”

Gabriel doesn’t break his menacing eye contact with Conover, showing his disgust with the obvious usurping of command.

“Was there anything else Commander?” asks Conover mockingly.

“Just get the hell off of my ship.” says Gabe in a low and threatening tone.

“Pleasure meeting you and your crew Commander. We should be outbound in less than sixty mycrots.” says Conover as he gingerly exits the landing ramp of the Traverse.

“Alright everybody back to your positions, the sooner we leave this shit hole the better!” yells Gabriel to his crew as he takes Silas aside “I want a special tracking beacon fixed on that goddamn Falchion at all times. I don’t trust that son of bitch. Tell Menyton to have the ship’s A.I. keep me apprised on their position with updates every arn.” With that, Gabriel pauses and makes his way back to the cockpit.

 

[Zeth]

With minor hiccups during the inspection, it seems the Uni-Forces Captain was letting them of the hook. He could hardly blame the crew for being antsy after spending three weeks being cooped-up in a freight hauler. He knew Type-4 Androids were advanced enough to simulate the sensation of anxiety and frustration in order to better understand those around them, but such sensations eluded him. Despite not being able to feel such things, he acknowledged the situation and attempted to lessen the issue before it got out of hand.

Two times he thought that Uni-Force would dock Lu-Lee under the pretense of professional malpractice or worse by engaging in illegal substances. He was aware of Marv's penchant for chemical escapism but did not pry deeper. Silas realized quickly Mr. Scutter did not take kindly to such things and if he did not want such things to be brought up, he will not mention them. Despite the near-miss he hoped Lu would chew him out for the close call.

Avoiding agitation was not always the best foundation for a relationship, but for the duration of mission the stability it provides will suffice. After all, who knows if Marv will remain or simply enroll for a spot on a different hauler? Despite that, Silas engaged with Traverse's senior Technician whenever he could, whether their relationship was trasient or not. Android's directive might be to ensure the success of the mission, but it was not the reason for his existence - at least it hasn't been for a long while.

"\o/ piggy free!" - it suddenly pinged in the lower left corner of his right eye and he smiled. He winked at their resident entertainment provider, her mischievous nature both endearing to him and most useful in this instance. As he approached their Commander, he looked pointedly at Kasey.

Tonight we watch!

While the question of whether love can bloom between a man and machine on the rust-filled dunes of Mars, is of almost fundamental importance to Silas, the curt commands from Gabriel took primacy:
“I want a special tracking beacon fixed on that goddamn Falchion at all times. I don’t trust that son of bitch. Tell Menyton to have the ship’s A.I. keep me apprised on their position with updates every arn.”

Android nodded discreetly, before boarding the ship and disappearing within Traverse's hull. Preparing some preliminary calibration of auxiliary sensors, keying them to track specific EM emissions of Falschion flyers that Uni-Forces usually employed during escort missions, Silas wondered to Gabriel's hard reaction. Silas often did this while performing some task, his interest always taking him to that of his crewmates and how they functioned. He mused that Gabriel's history with Uni-Forces probably caused him to see Captain's escort as patronizing baby-sitting. Maybe he simply did not want to be around Uni-Forces considering how they treated him? Whatever the cause, he'll have to talk to him about it before Gabriel had any chance to brood over it too much.

Keying the sensors in, he called up and followed Kasey's biometric readings pinging from Flight Engineer's PDA. Despite his reasoning concerning their Commanders, he couldn't help but sympathize with the man. As an ancient android near his expiry date, he could hardly begrudge his betters for shipping him to a freight hauler depriving him of any form of pension or retirement that humas have, but for a still young and prospecting man such as Gabriel, such an ignoble outcome must be devastating. There is something to learn from that, but he had to side-line that train of thought for the task at hand.

He entered the ship's workshop.

"Electrical problems, huh." he remarked as a way of greeting. "Anything I should report to the Commander, cause I rather wouldn't." Gabriel's reaction went unremarked but in the air. He was positive that the blonde youth would catch the meaning between the lines.
However any last-minute repair may occupy their time they have reserved for watching the soap-opera. On a rust-bucket such as this, there was always something to repair and any such non-essential inconveniences must not be allowed to interrupt their habitual watching tonight.

"Also, direct any updates that AI has of Uni-Forces escorting us, to Gabriel's PDA. I already got sensors keyed to their Falschions."

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

The Commander sat silently on his bunk inside his modest living quarters. A million different thoughts ran through his mind as he removed his metallic dog tags from around his neck. A remnant from his days with the Uni-Forces, Gabriel gripped them tightly as he pondered. Suddenly his PDA blinked to life as the ship’s A.I. chimed in with it’s hourly report of the tracking beacon monitoring Conover’s escort Falchion.

“Report on Falchion, 34-00 Alpha. Distance remains at twenty point nine milli-parsecs. Travel speed has slightly decreased and is now eight hundred hectre-knots. Falchion’s outward flight systems appear normal and there have been no outbound transmissions.”

Gabriel sighed heavily as he rubbed his face. So far Conover’s escort hadn’t tried anything fishy as Gabriel suspected. Maybe he was just trying to do his job after all. It had been about two solar days since they departed from the Gamma Base and their journey back to Galacti-Corps HQ was only half over, so he was reserving judgment. It was than that Gabriel reached under his bunk and retrieved a small injecting device tipped with a sharp needle like probe on the end. In his other hand he held a tiny glass vile filled with a neon blue fluid. The liquid was a nano chip laced stimulant known as Rapture. This stimulant was a highly addictive super drug that bonded with the user’s molecular composition on a sub atomic level. It created a hyper realistic digital dream world of sorts that was comprised of the user’s deepest desires and subconscious thoughts and would send the individual into a comatose state for hours on end. The drug was a highly illegal substance and occupied the top spot on the Uni-Forces Felony Contraband list. Gabriel had been using the mind altering substance for nearly five years and was extra cautious, not to get caught with the drug in his blood stream. He loaded the vile into the injection gun, put the needle to the back of his neck and shot the drug straight into the base of his brain. With a few seconds before the substance took effect, Gabriel lay bare chested on his bunk, with his eyes rolling slightly into his head. A few moments later, his eyelids closed and he was whisked away quite literally into another world.

As Gabriel slowly opens his eyes, he is greeted by the sight of a large room, painted sterile white. Occupying the room is a single giant port window, peering out into space. A massive black hole stood on the other side of the window, magnificent in it’s majesty, a swirl of brilliant glowing gasses and plasma illuminating it’s outer rim. Set up at the base of the window was an elegant table, with two chairs on either side of it. In the center of the table was a beautiful ivory chess board, with all it’s various game pieces sparkling clear. Sitting on one of the chairs was large black figure, vaguely humanoid in appearance. The figure’s torso was somewhat translucent, the area of it’s inner body filled with digital streams mixed with what seemed like the twinkling stars of outer space. The figure turns in Gabriel’s direction, it’s face nothing but a blank void of infinite blackness.

“There you are Gabriel my boy…it is your move I believe.” said the figure in a low, yet serene sounding voice.

Gabriel takes a seat across from the figure and looks at the game board. Most of his pieces had been captured. When the normal junkie was strung out on Rapture, their fever induced fantasies usually consisted of wild sexual orgies, or pleasure inducing binges of whatever the user’s imagination could conjure up. But this was Gabriel’s escape, to sit and play thought provoking chess games and hold deep conversations with this mysterious figure he called The Entity.

“You were holding doubtful thoughts today, weren’t you?” said the Entity as he slid his bishop across the board.

“It seemed like a pretty close call with the Uni’s” said Gabriel as he moves his one remaining rook into position.

“As I’ve told you many times before, I have fixed it so that the Rapture will remain undetected in your system.”

“Well forgive me for being a little fucking paranoid.” says Gabriel.

“In all our sessions, your propensity for your own inner demons is the one thing that could potentially derail your progress…and chief among them is her. In almost ten years, you still cannot seem to let those particular transgressions go.”

Anger seethes from Gabriel’s eyes as he moves his rook and captures one his opponent’s pawns “What that bitch did to me was beyond transgression. It was betrayal on another level. No, ten years isn’t nearly enough to forget that kind of trauma.”

“Understood, however the odyssey that you will soon face will effectively render all of that irrelevant.” says the Entity as he captures Gabriel’s rook with his knight.

Gabriel’s eyes narrow “What do you mean?”

“These sessions have been more than just chess and therapeutic conversations. I’ve been training you or sorts, mentally fortifying you for a task that I will soon require.”

“What the hell are you talking about, your just a manifestation of my subconscious that I conjured through use of the Rapture.”

“Oh I am far more than that my boy. Admittedly the Rapture has enabled me to communicate with you in a way even I never thought possible. But I have watched over you and your lineage for quite some time now. When you started to consume Rapture, I was given a very rare opportunity to enter your psyche, to reach you in a way that I never could with your ancestors.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

“Allow me to explain somewhat. Your bloodline is quite exceptional to say the least Gabriel. You come from a very special lineage, one that I’ve been trying to communicate with for the past two thousand years, but was unable to. But in the past millennium or so, your human species have advanced intellectually and technologically to a very impressive level. When Rapture was invented, it created a unique set of circumstances for me to enter your mind and speak to you. A combination of a digital simulation mixed with your subconscious thoughts, fears and desires opened a door for me, creating this alternate pocket dimension you see before you. The course of your life for the past five years has been subtlety guided by my hand to lead you to this point. A plan I’ve had for untold eons now, but could never find a way to implement it, until now.”

“I don’t believe a goddamned word of this.”

“As if that really matters.”

“So if your not a product of my drug induced mind, than what the hell are you? Who are you really?”

“What I truly am would be incomprehensible to your mortal mind. But in the ancient past, your human fore-bearers once called me…Yog-Sothoth. “

“So what is it you want with me?”

The Entity emits a low and sinister laugh “All your questions will be answered in due time my boy. But alas, we’ve run out of time. For we have arrived.”

Suddenly a harsh siren like sound pierces through the chamber, causing Gabriel to shield his ears. In an instant he awakes from his Rapture coma and bolts off his bunk, the same shrill siren echoing through the ship. Gabriel immediately keys up his comm links “Silas, Scutter…anybody! What the hell is going on?”

A transmission comes through the Traverse’s external auxiliary links and Conover’s voice can be heard coming from the other end “Commander, come in Commander Castillo!”

“This is Castillo, Captain is your crew experiencing turbulence?”

“You could say that, Commander where ever you are, I suggest you get to your cockpit bridge and tell me what you see!”

“Roger that…” says Gabriel as he hurriedly throws on a shirt and bolts out of his quarters on his way up to the cockpit.

 

[dae mec]

Lu-Lee grinned when the piggie returned, chock full of shows. She distributed them to the crew: Silas and Kasey got the newest season of Oh Captain, Marv got the most annoying children's show she could find, and so on. Lu-Lee didn't send anything to the captain, unsure of how he'd react to her pirating (and not familiar enough with him to know), but she did bookmark the newest batch of the UMC, just in case.

While she had that lovely connection of the Uni's, Lu-Lee took the opportunity to send detailed holos to her family members and few friends. She even put the prosthetic on for her parents--they still flinched at the sight of her 'ruined' face. She talked about everything and nothing to them, reassuring that her deep space exploration was fine, boring, and lucrative as well. She was a little more honest with her sisters, teasing her younger one, continuing an in-depth conversation about the future with her older one. A messages to her nephew and niece, another to cousins, friends still on Mars, and old crewmates... finally. That covered all of them.

"Come home," her sister had scolded. "How long has it since you took planet-side leave? My youngest kid doesn't remember meeting you!"

And, alright... maybe she had a point. It had been five or six years since she'd been on her home planet for more than a day. Lu-Lee did great alone--she had to be, in order to get this job... but maybe she could be a grounder again. At least for a little bit, until she got antsy again.

Lu-Lee shot the shit for some time, skimming holos, playing a cheap game, but she finally turned to the thought bugging her mind. If she applied to medical schools on Mars... and the 'Corp did have higher-ed bonuses...

She looked through the different colleges on Mars, picking a few close to where her parents lived, another in her sister's city--the capital--and then stopped. There was UGM. Lu-Lee snorted. Yeah, right. The University of Greater Mars was only the most prestigious college on the entire planet, ranking in the top ten in the whole human quarter. It was one of the few universities not on Temple Earth that could claim that title.

... but it would be hilarious to fuck around with those preppy fresh-faced idealists.

Chuckling to herself, she downloaded the application for UGM too before she returned to her holos.

-----

"No way," breathed Lu-Lee, on the edge of her seat. Alani did not just do that! Shit, Oh Captain was really ramping up! She wasted no time in sending a bunch of exclamation marks and shock-emotion signifiers to both Silas and Kasey. She hoped they'd gotten a chance to catch up.

"if you haven't seen OC yet, ur in for a wiiiiild ride", Lu-Lee sent them.

Turned out her comment was prescient in a different way, because what sounded like every single alarm on the ship started blaring. "Jen-jang!" she cursed to herself. "What's going on?"

At the very least, she knew these weren't the alarms for a lockdown, so she left her room and hurried to the clinic. Lu-Lee reached for her HUD, searching all her alerts for an explanation.

 

[Zeth]

"...and in leaving her husband she not only broke the marriage vows but has also shattered the transmartian peace that was secured by this, most practical union. All that so she can be with a man she truly loved."
Leaning against table with his elbows, Silas stared at the pile of dirty food trays, his gaze focused as a monologue was delivered to a wrist device, beneath a checkered shirt.

"To my best judgement and those of my fellow viewers, Alani was by no means an unreasonable person. This goes further in supporting my aforementioned hypothesis of a logical blindspot. Even in the most sterile of examples, as long as human psyche does stay within the healthy parameters, there is always a potential for most extreme of illogical actions. This, almost impulsive, urge often comes from some deep seated desire in the subconscious, specifics of which till this day eludes me."

He stood up, picking the remains of bygone meal and disposing them in the recycler.

"Deceptively, the very causality of the blindspot, despite the unknown specifics, may appear to establish parameters for logical discussion. However that is not so as these actions can often result in complete termination of the subject. And what kind of self-destructive behavior could be called healthy? In all of my observations of myriad facets of the human, this concept in psychology is the only one that eludes me as much as it eludes proper human scrutiny."

Entering the cockpit, he glanced over the instruments, keeping a watchful eye as they encroached deeper and deeper into the Wicked Space.

"Conclusion of this would lead one to speculate that Alani's blindspot, her need to indulge in forbidden love, may lead her to lose her own life - and I would guess this to be true if the event actually occurred. However I consider it much more likely for the showrunners to fall into their own blindspot before Alani has a chance and so I remain certain in their budding relationship to overcome all odds. It is illogical, impossible and from some views even selfish and unjust. But it is so very human and that's the only relevant variable in this equation."

Turning to the armored porthole, he peered into the great beyond and the gas clouds that gave it color. He reflected upon the latest viewing of the stream, courtesy of Lu-Lee's perseverance and Kasey's skill. He felt very grateful each time they procured the media for him.
Soaps were often staffed with caricatured versions of actual humans, often placed in melodramatic situations for increased tension and thus viewership. However such environments provided a perfect negative, a boilerplate example to use in comparison with real events. The shows and better yet, human reaction to them, provided Silas with great personal insight into his fascination and study of humanity.

if you haven't seen OC yet, ur in for a wiiiiild ride", Lu-Lee sent them.

I have. Silas replied in such a way, one could feel the, already nostalgic, exhale coming from the text: It was sublime.

Suddenly a proximity alarm went off and like a catastrophic cascade other alarms were tripped one by one. Without an actual need to look at the instruments, Silas reacted almost instinctively, disengaging the autopilot and assuming manual control. Between the increasing influx of status reports and bewildering estimates coming from sensors, the informational barrage threatened to overwhelm the Android - so he disengaged some of his own systems connecting him to the Traverse, shunting most of the information toward the AI core.

 

[Tempestus]

The air raid klaxon abruptly whirled up, stirring Marv from his slumber. "Hunh...I didnt mean it," he mutters in his sleep. "Pl-please..."

Suddenly, a loud clang reverberated throughout the bilge, chucking him out of his little tree house. He landed roughly on the grated floor below, his right side cramping with pain. "Gahhh! Sugar tit!" He fumbled around like a lame duck searching for a pond as he used the wall light sconces for support. Dizzily and unawares, Marv squinted both ways down the hall.

The corridor was well-illuminated and all access panels were on, albeit flickering madly. Primary power still holding on. Engines probably good, too, he concluded as any layman would surmise. As he staggered down along the South access line, he reached for his two-way communicator and opened the Cargo Bay local channel. "Where ya two knuckleheads? Check us fer' leaks!" The Delgados were still green when it came to shipmanship, but even a chimp could spot big gaping holes.

Speaking of damages, things were beginning to look dire here the further Marv shuffled down toward temporary containment. Flying sparks indicated shorting conduits from various points along the line.

“Silas, Scutter…anybody! What the hell is going on?” came the captain.

Clearing his throat, Marv prepared a response to Bridge channel. "Ahugh-hoogh!," he opened up. "Ahem...Cap, she's been raked a bit with cuts n' scrapes, but she'll hold." A flashing red light in permanent storage caught Marv's eye. As he moved closer, he could hear a swooshing noise inside one of the storage units. "Hunh-" Reading the display, Marv could see the temperature reading drop ever so slightly. 21.6, 21.4, 21.3...

"The air got to it!" he began shouting. "The gorram air got to it! Patchman, LSU7 gone trailin' atmos. Patchman?" Marv called out to Menyton. Above the crate containing the Chrystherium stood a good volleyball size hole in the ceiling, and probably a good bit of structural mess urgently needing repairs.

 

[birmiethewormie]

Diego returned to his quarters after the inspection, and was disappointed to find that his hologame had been shut off entirely. He figured that the ship's AI had likely turned it off due to not being used, but he wasn't even sure it had been saved. Rather than deal with the anxiety now, he instead checked his PDA. More show reccomendations from Lu-Lee. Diego had never understood the purpose of television-he found it wasn't engaging enough, the same going for movies and books, except of course for the tales of Delgado lore. He responded out of courtesy, sending a list of old fotonovelas that Momma Delgado used to watch.

Seeing his brother Jesus active on the PDA was of great amusement to Diego. Throughout the years, his elder sibling had never been one for technology, and there were few things that brought Diego greater joy than witnessing his brother struggle. All in good fun, of course, for nothing would break the bond from their Delgado blood.

Diego wiped the sweat off his forehead(he had been feeling rather hot lately, despite the state of the art ventiliation) and went across the hall to Jesus' room. "My brother, you're here!" Jesus shouted, hurriedly walking up to him and placing both hands on his cheeks. "What can I do for you? Surely those bastards who came for our Delgado blood gave you no trouble?". Diego smiled at his brother's cheerfulness. "Ah, Jesus. You know that no one would be ballsy enough to mess with a Delgado."

Jesus nods vigorously, smiling wider at Diego's words. He pulls his hands off Diego's face, placing them on his hips. "Now,again, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I saw you just got on your PDA for the first time in probably a week. Your prowess for technology is known through the galaxy, so I figured I would just go to see the master at work." Diego said with a grin.

"Yes, yes, the Lu-Lee girl had something to ask me. Television of all things! Rots your brain more than those silly hologames you've been playing recently." Jesus rolls his eyes. Diego felt like doing the same; his brother often went on tangents like this. "A waste of time! You could be rereading the Delgado classics, acquanting yourself with our ancestors you're so sure are watching you. Not to mention how much of a slacker you've become."

The grin faded a little from Diego's face. He knew his brother was making these remarks in jest, as he always did, but he did not take fondly to being called a slacker, and it made his blood boil ever the same. "Jesus, what would you know about rotting my brain? It is not as if you have ever had one yourself. Besides, it is actually quite the intellectual test. In fact, I think it's the kind of thing you would enjoy." Diego thought for a moment before his grin returned, this time larger than before. "You know, what do you say to an old fashioned Delgado duel, Jesus? Surely you wouldn't be afraid to lose to your younger brother." Diego taunted.

"A Delgado duel is a Delgado duel. Brother, of course I accept." Jesus says solemnly. He shows a tired smile. Diego was taken aback by his brother's sudden change in attitude. He knew Jesus was always a little more sensitive, but it was hard to remember that with his sly remarks and quips. Diego cleared his throat, and took out his PDA.

"Very well then, a Delgado duel it is." Diego and his brother walked into Diego's own quarters, and Diego helped Jesus select the army he would use.

"You would want the Martian Reconquistadores, brother. They are the closest to our Delgado ancestors. I will go with the Andromedan Conglomerate; you will have the faster and better trained troops, but mine will be better equipped, and a little stronger."

"Shall we get started then?" Says Jesus. "Indubitably." Diego replies. He begins the game, and begins by sending the brunt of his line right towards Jesus' front, and sends a smaller force around the side in position for a flank. About a quarter of his army remains at the start, waiting.

Jesus sends all of his army right into Diego's line, and Diego shakes his head and smiles. "Ah, brother! Surely you have a better tactical mind than that!" The troops that were going round to flank begin making quick work of much of Jesus' men on the sides, and the men that die on Diego's front lines are replaced by some of the men that he left behind at the start.

Though Jesus tried to move into a better position, Diego would not hold out. He pressed the advantage, and began to surround Jesus' men. Suddenly, alarms begin to blare out through the ship. "Where ya two knuckleheads? Check us fer' leaks!" Diego and Jesus glance at each other and nodd, running towards the cargo bay and opening up his PDA. He uses it to scan for any structural damage on the rest of the ship; all good, except for the cargo bay, which had sustained numerous leaks.

"The Cargo Bay has suffered bad, Marv. Me and Jesus are on the way now!" He replied to his supervisor. The Delgados rushed to the Cargo Bay and set to work with the spirit of the Delgados of old, as they worked quickly to repair the leaks in the Cargo bay.

 

[tarandus]

Jesus is a Delgado man. That much is clear. It is, in fact, the duty of a Delgado man, to look after other Delgado men. In particular, Jesus is looking after the Delgado man who is his brother, Diego. Jesus has recently become concerned about Diego's propensity for the hologames. "Ai, Diego... where has his head gone?" Jesus thinks, shaking his head as he walks into the recesses of the cargo bay. As for Jesus' action following being inspected, Commander Gabriel smoothly ignored it. In recognition that not all comedy is comedy gold, Jesus retreated to his workspace. There, he sat down on a small chair.

Since boarding The Traverse, in the same way as Diego, Jesus had found himself a small room within the cargo bay to call his own. On his breaks or in his spare time, he would find solace resting there. He had brought a scarce few belongings with him on board the ship. Since the Delgado's act of leaving Mars was a sort of abandonment, there was no reason to return there in Jesus' mind. Decorating the room were crates and boxes, full of old books. Delgado family histories, stories passed down from the ancestors. Jesus had read them all hundreds of times, but he would still return to them over and over again. He had long since disavowed most of his superstitious beliefs, but there was one thing he was sure of: The Delgados were a family of conquerors with a great destiny.

Jesus was old-fashioned. Despite the times, he clung to paper and the tactile whenever he could. Not only because that's just what he believes in, but also because he couldn't wrap his head around technology. It feels wrong to him, and he doesn't understand it. Asides from the mobile PDA he uses to keep in contact with crew members, he only has a small holo device suitable for writing and storing information. TV shows, news, and surface level media are all available through it. Jesus doesn't use it much though. As the device caught his eye, he was reminded of the alert on his PDA earlier. He pulled it out of his pocket to investigate.

Seeing a message from Lu-Lee about TV shows, Jesus was briefly embarrassed. In fact, he had never been an avid watcher of shows. Of course, he was still interested in a few. He had always had a liking to shows that reminded him of the Delgado tales. Historical shows, dramatic epics, and anything with suspense and backstabbery. In response to Lu-Lee, he relayed those interests. But the reason he was embarrassed was that he didn't actually know how to watch shows on his holo device. Since boarding The Traverse, he hadn't been able to figure it out.

After that mental ordeal, he hurriedly put away his PDA. It had apparently put a lot of strain on him to live through that. Wiping sweat from his brow, he stood up. For whatever reason, he felt like his very blood was hotter than usual. He stood up and went to walk back into the cargo bay, making sure everything was still in order. Maybe he'd seek out another crew member or head to a local area on the ship. As he stepped through the door he saw Diego, who had come to look for him.

Jesus saw Diego and immediately beamed at him. "My brother, you're here!" He shouted, hurriedly walking up to him and placing both hands on his cheeks. "What can I do for you? Surely those bastards who came for our Delgado blood gave you no trouble?"

"Ah, Jesus. You know that no one would be ballsy enough to mess with a Delgado."

Jesus nods vigorously, smiling wider at Diego's words. He pulls his hands off Diego's face, placing them on his hips. "Now,again, what can I do for you?"

"Well, I saw you just got on your PDA for the first time in probably a week. Your prowess for technology is known through the galaxy, so I figured I would just go to see the master at work."

Looking at Diego's grinning face makes Jesus feel a happiness in his heart. The brotherly affection between the two has run deep for many years. Hearing Diego's sarcastic remark sparked another fire within Jesus. The fire of a fast-talking master of snark. "Yes, yes, the Lu-Lee girl had something to ask me. Television of all things! Rots your brain more than those silly hologames you've been playing recently." Jesus rolls his eyes. "A waste of time! You could be rereading the Delgado classics, acquainting yourself with our ancestors you're so sure are watching you. Not to mention how much of a slacker you've become."

"Jesus, what would you know about rotting my brain? IT is not as if you have ever had one yourself." At this moment, Jesus knew he had awoken a sleeping Delgado Dragon. "Besides, it is actually quite the intellectual test. In fact, I think it's the kind of thing you would enjoy." Diego's grin, which has moments ago faded from his face, quickly returned, with a wider, devilish twist. "You know, what do you say to an old fashioned Delgado duel, Jesus? Surely you wouldn't be afraid to lose to your younger brother."

Jesus' smile lessened, and he moved a and behind his head to nervously rub it. It just so happens that, in all of his occasional pettiness, Jesus is someone who can dish words out but can't take them. "Ai, my own brother, this stings!" Jesus thinks in a lamenting tone. "A Delgado duel is a Delgado duel. Brother, of course I accept." Jesus says solemnly. He shows a tired smile.

"A Delgado duel it is then."

Jesus follows Diego into Diego's room. There, Diego helps him prepare to play the game. "You would want the Martian Reconquistadores, brother. They are the closest to our Delgado ancestors. I will go with the Andromedan Conglomerate; you will have the faster and better trained troops, while mine will be better equipped, and a bit faster." Jesus nods along to Diego's words, feeling a bit of a heart-pumping excitement. The serious nature of the two brother's interaction, to him, has begun to fade into the background. This looks like it might be fun. "Shall we get started then?" Says Jesus.

Jesus sees Diego sending a large portion of their army straight at him. Hurriedly, he sends out the force of cavalry to meet the push. Watching the rest of his army stagnant at the spawn, he fumbles with the controls for a bit before sending the rest of his army forward as well.

"Ah, brother! Surely you have a better tactical mind than that!" Diego sounds. Jesus' eyes bulge out of their sockets as he watches a flanking force carve through his troops from the side. "I hadn't noticed that at all!" Jesus thinks, marveling. He quickly orders his men to pull back and huddle together. Their numbers have shrunken drastically. Jesus is astonished that so simple of an attack could have swiftly taken him out of the game like this. His pride, however, has him eager to hold on until the only true defeat, death. He has his men adopt as defensive a position as possible, and then makes them begin moving to a better position on the map.

Just as Diego moves to press the attack, alarms begin blaring all over the ship. The Delgado brothers are wrenched out of the mood. Not long after, Bossman Marv's voice shouts over the comms. "Where ya two knuckleheads? Check us fer' leaks!" Jesus shoots a look at Diego, sharing a nod with him. Then he runs out into the cargo bay to begin inspection, stopping at a workstation to grab tools for any emergency repair. He puts on a pair of boots, heavy and sturdy, that are made to keep him firmly rooted to the floor. Then he activates the closed breathing system attached to his cargotech uniform, a thin seal sprouting from the collar to cover his head. It's good to be cautious.

Jesus rushes back into the cargo bay, where Diego has already prepared himself and begun patching over a few small leaks. Running up the corridors, he stops and fixes any damage he can find. He tugs at his clothing, feeling the same intense wave of heat pulsing through his body as earlier. In a rare moment, Jesus pulls out his PDA and contacts the other members of the crew. "What's going on? Is everyone OK?"

 

[Darrian_Gabriel]

As Gabriel makes his way to the cockpit he hears one of the Delgado brothers come over the comm link system "What's going on? Is everyone OK?"

The Commander quickly patches into one of the several comm boxes that stud the corridors of the Traverse, his mind going into full mission mode “Nevermind that Delgado, I want you, your brother and Scutter to get down to the cargo bay ASAP, patch any leaks and secure that goddamned Chystherium! I’ll be down in a few microts!” he shouts as he switches off the comm box before entering the main cockpit. Without even looking out the main port windows, Gabriel brings up several holo screens and begins to monitor the ship’s vitals. “Mr. Silas, switch off manual mode and tap into the ship’s Auxiliary Network, I want a full damage report of every bay, corridor and port hatch and I want it yesterday!”

“Debris impacts on main propulsion thrusters, ship’s power output down to sixty nine percent…” chimes the ships Kinetic A.I.

“Menyton, get your ass down to the propulsion stock hangars! I want a full systems check on those thrusters! Silas is tapping into the auxiliary networks as we speak, the ship’s power is down to sixty nine percent and dropping…get on it!” Gabriel shouts over the comm. He stops to log out of one holo screens “Silas also get a full read on those Anti-Matter Heat Shields, I gotta feeling that…” Gabriel abruptly stops as his eyes wander over to the main port window and he sees it. A magnificent, yet terrifying sight greets his eyes. The Traverse was at the heart of a vast swirling debris field filled with derelict fragments of what seemed to be thousands of decaying ships and space vessels of any and all kinds, all embroiled in a maelstrom of a cosmic sized shooting gallery. Beyond the endless debris field seemed an even more bewildering sight, there were countless twinkling gas clouds and pulses of starlight, where there should have been none. The Traverse had inexplicably entered what seemed to be a phantom nebula, where none existed before. Gabriel stood silent in complete dumbstruck awe as his eyes feverishly darted to and fro, his mind trying to comprehend what exactly he was seeing “Just what in God’s name is going on?” he whispers to himself.

Just than a voice breaks over the ship’s external comm system “Crew of the Traverse come in! This is Falchion 34 Alpha! Commander Castillo, do you read me?!” says Conover’s panicked voice.

Gabriel breathes heavy as his finger slowly grazes over the main console and flips a switch “Roger that Falchion 34 Alpha. Captain, you wanna explain just what in the living fuck I’m looking at? How in hell did we manage to wander into a goddamned nebula?”

“We’re at a loss to explain it ourselves Commander. There isn’t supposed to be any nebulae within five hundred light years of our current location, so whatever this is, it beats the hell outta me!”

“Have you boys taken any damage?”

“That’s affirmative, major abrasions on our main hull, our power output is down to…” suddenly a heavy static breaks all contact and Conover’s voice fades out.

“Captain…Captain Conover, do you copy?” Gabriel is met with only more eerie static “Silas, while your checking the auxiliary, see if you can raise them back on comm.” Gabriel than switches to an internal communication channel “Scutter, what’s the story down there?”

“Not good Commander, the structural leaks are a lot worse than we thought! If it gets any worse we may have to jettison!” says Scutter.

“That’s not an option Scutter, you hear me! I want that Chrystherium secured and those leaks stabilized, I don’t care what you have to do! I’m en route now!” says Gabriel as he starts to make his way out of the cockpit when he is suddenly stopped by a word from Silas…

“Commander there may not be a choice.”

“We are NOT jettisoning that cargo Mr. Silas! That Chystherium could be our biggest pay day yet and I’m not willing to jeopardize this delivery! Just get those auxiliary networks back online!”

Gabriel doesn’t give the android time to respond and he races out of the cockpit. He is in full sprint through the ship’s many, winding corridor’s when the Traverse’s main Kinetic A.I. starts to blare over the comm links “Ship’s power output down to sixty percent, cargo bay near critical failure. Jettison procedure beginning initial phases…”

“No gaddammit!” says Gabriel as he patches into the Kinetic A.I. using one of the comm boxes “Override protocol 99 Foxtrot, Commander code 128765! Do not begin jettison procedures, that’s an order!”

“Commander code not recognized. Structural damage to cargo bay to advanced, beginning jettison initiation procedures.”

“Son of a bitch, I said override!” says Gabriel as he furiously tries to key in several commands using the manual keypad on the comm box, to no avail.

With the sirens still resounding throughout the ship, Gabriel gives up and continues down to the cargo hold. He finds Scutter and both the Delgado brothers, desperately trying to repair various structural leaks, with several nuts and bolts popping loose all over the bay.

“Scutter, forget the hull and help me lock down this containment field! If the Chystherium gets to ionization levels, were all fucked!”