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| Vergo Flux (SC RP); It's a working title | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM (8,268 Views) | |
| +CEMP+ | Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM Post #1 |
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Clockwork Master
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(OOC: After much time, it's up folks. Hope you don't mind the title) Nobody could quite put a finger on what it was exactly. It's solid, statue-like appearance gave it the impression it was some kind of lost relic of an unknown age; however, it's sleek texture and deep, indigo color that seemed to exuded from an aura it emitted suggested that it was anything but a simple, ornate object. On the contrary, despite the strange grid that appeared to have been carved into the scuba tank-sized cylinder, sensors indicated that whatever it was made of, it was not simple stone. Even more so, the sensor could grasp an energy signature emanating from it, no doubt being harmlessly displayed in its short but majestic aura. Without a doubt, the scientists knew it was an enigmatic form of alien technology, but whatever it was, what its purpose was and, moreover, who made it, was a complete mysterious that consistently tugged at their curiosity. Although it had been discovered amongst chozo ruins, the object stood out amongst any found and recorded avian artifacts, both in terms of appearance and energy signature. Many were in a debate in whether it was really Chozo origin, though many others suggested it might have been imported by the race to the sight before the race had abandoned it. This debate became more confounded when the scientists attempted at carbon dating, as the system, to their surprise, couldn't make heads or tails of the age. It was like certain parts of the artifact were newer, while other seemed to match the ruin's age. Trying to isolate and define these parts, however, proved frustratingly impossible for their computers; some theorized it might have been the unique energy signature, or the artifacts intended nature, but with no visible crevices to indicate various, separable parts, they were at a lost at that avenue. Despite the artifact's refusal to release any answer, and it's habit in creating even more questions, many of the scientists on the Alazar complex still held a great enthusiasm in studying it. This was probably because of the challenge and enigma that it created, and that nobody else had seen anything like this. It was one of kind, and it certainly held majesty about it. And at the same time, it had this haunted, spooky aspect to it. While nothing weird happened around, a few scientists occasionally, and a lot of the guards, got the willies looking at it; many described the experience that, upon eye contact with the artifact, they could subtly hear a stream of inaudible, whispering, erratic voices in their heads. A few even claimed that they heard such a phenomenon when going to sleep. Nobody on the science team was superstitious by far, but whatever the affects that this artifact had on people, none of their sensors could discern anything that would have caused. Thankfully, this creepy feeling was all that was, and there didn't appear to be any horror movie theatrics going on. And with curiosity over powering fear, many soon held the interest in seeing how the artifact reacts to certain energy pulses. One, however, had a more malicious interest in the artifact. --------------------- At about 18:00 standard Gfed military time, the USS Ghala received a distress signal from the Alazar complex; and what was baffling to the ship's captain was that it was a pirate attack of all sorts. This was strange because the Alazar complex was smack in the middle between Federation borders and core worlds, so a full scale pirate assault seemed completely out of mind without a patrolling fleet noticing it. Furthermore, the complex had well armed security, so a light raid seemed out of the question. Nonetheless, the captain responded immediately and was within orbit of the above the complex. Oddly enough, it seemed whatever fighting that had occurred had ended, and perplexing, with very little damage on the surface. The captain soon found the answer in a response from the surface, and it quickly all made sense. What the complex had first assumed was a raid had actually been a pure theft, and a surprisingly well planned and executed one at that. Although there's no real confirmation yet, the security group believe there was a spy amidst the group, who had figured out security patrols, routines, codes and so; enough information to pull off the heist like it wereThe Italian Job. The only reason there had been a distress signal was the utter surprise of discovering pirates having gotten by their defences, making them first assume a raid had actually occurred. Unfortunately, the pirates had gotten out clean, and, worse, with what they had intended. The scientists said the object in question, which they had been studying, showed the uncanny ability to create energy fluxations seen in that of wormholes. While there some mystery, many scientists agreed that it might, troubling as it is, allow Zebesian's to appear wherever they wanted. ----------------------- It was still a early desert morning as the market, which was a mix between a bazaar and modern technology, began to open and fill up. As thus, there were very few of the native commoners actually walking about the sands, while those that were found in the market were the shop keepers preparing for the noon-coming crowd. Those that were found strolling about from shop to shop were generally travelling foreigners from other parts of the solar system, the planets night and day cycle meaning little to their actual sleeping periods. The planet this market was on was farther from the rest of the core planets, but it still flourished and enjoyed the occasional tourist. One of these was a pretty red head who stood out in the market place, her back hair wrapped in a long pony tail that waver elegantly about the air as she moved. She was most distinguishable as a foreigner for her teal t-shirt and her light blue shorts, and while her body wasn't lustrous by appearance, it was definitely lithe and athletic. And while her eyes were hidden by a pair of shades, her expression was soft and jovial, appearing to enjoy the morning sun. She also had a VR-7 Handgun holstered to her side; definitely lethal and handy in a firefight. One of the early bird shop keepers - who specialized in selling various fruits, veggies and spices - saw here approaching his stand, and wonder what kind of female foreigner she was. Before he had a chance to ponder this further, she spook in their native tongue, albeit clumsily. The man chuckled and said in plain English, "Madam, you can speak in English if you want?" "My apologies," she replied with a wry smile, "I'm just trying to get a little practice. Small hobby really." The shop keeper decided to ignore the fact that she had a gun strapped to her side. In any case, she acted very friendly, and he was kind enough to give her a few pointers in his native vocabulary while she picked out what she wanted. After everything was said and done, he spoke in his native tongue, and when she gave him a perplexed look, he repeated in English: "A woman like you should not hide her eyes, not with your kind of spirit." The red head smiled in a flattered manner, and, with only a small moment of hesitation, slipped off her shapes, revealing a set of youthful, energetic, opal green eyes. "Why thank you!" And as she moved off with her goods, though, the store keeper swore those greens irises had flared a bright blue that had made her eyes momentarily alien. --------------------------- The woman chuckled to herself as she made her way to her private cruiser. Jenosa Arma really didn't like wearing the shades, a truth and reason the store keeper had actually hit. Unfortunately to her disgruntlement, her discretion had become the better part of her survival; as well as an unnerving reminder of how...less human her body, and mind, had become. Still, she wasn't about to let it interfere with her daily routine of life, which next involved searching for more jobs and employment. And unlike other bounty hunters in this section of the galaxy, she chose to remain unregistered to the Hunters Guild, using various contacts she had built up to find clients. To her disappointment, there weren't any private clients worth working for, and most of the other bounties were public notice for the Hunter's guild. That said, upon second glance, she noticed a heafty bounty for a government stolen artifact. Granted, it wasn't work for a more private client, but considering the price they're willing to pay to get it back, and this was the Federation, she assumed there wouldn't be much of a fanfare for her. Of course, she thought to herself, the bounty itself would be tricky on her own, and as thus, she began to think of calling up a few friends to help track the artifact down. Granted, she preferred solo work, but this kind of job would require more than one person to help track. Besides, she did occasionally enjoy the company of a few friends that held the same profession as her. And as she sent the messages out, she thought of one other person that, while not directly a bounty hunter, would certain be able to help. |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Jul 11 2011, 11:17 AM Post #2 |
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Starfeather
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Z'Gato's helmet muffled the sound of bullets flying, the roar of his energy cannon, and the screams of his enemies. The occasional spatter of blood flocked across his gold armor, the reflection of his cannon's muzzle flash shining brightly off his visored helmet. Another three-burst attack, and another pirate fell. These were not Zebesians, though Z'Gato wished they were. These were merely human, with a small group of aliens amongst them, probably driven to piracy either through morale deviancy, simple greed, or sheer desperation. Such groups were common in the particular sector of space he found himself in, often preying on merchant vessels or military ones when they summoned up the courage. The former was why Z'Gato was even in this gods-forsaken place, but the latter was why he was executing his wrath aboard their ship. Apparently, while he was escorting a trade vessel, the pirate ship had disabled it, but had decided--in their infinite wisdom--to pull Z'Gato's personal ship into their holds with a tractor beam, thinking his ship and easy picking. Turns out, these pirates were nothing but fools. While they might have been able to overwhelm a trade vessel or even a Federation Escort or Frigate, they were no match for the hell Z'Gato could unleash upon them. He was an instrument of battle, war, and survival, a profession the Chozo warrior excelled at. Of course, the Pirates had originally marvelled at the fact that one of his kind still lived, shortly before they decided now was a good time to die by leveling weapons at Z'Gato and demanding he surrender. Z'Gato never surrendered. A short while afterward, The Chozo's armored form was pressing his one-man assault, the enemy breaking themselves upon his armored shell. None of the pirates were armored, nor did they carry the kind of sophisticated weaponry Z'Gato had come to expect from the rumors. Their firearms--while deadly to most humans--merely bounced off his armored plating or were absorbed by his suit's extensive shielding. Of the thirty pirates on this vessel, soon none remained. Z'Gato finally heaved a sigh once he had cleared out the pirate ship's bridge. While the assault had been practically no challenge to him, the physical exertion still managed to get his heart beating and his lungs in labor. He flexed his muscles without thinking, almost unconsciously challenging any hidden enemies to surface and attack, but no such assault found the Chozo warrior at the moment. However, a small mailbox icon appeared on the low right of his Head's-Up Display, so he triple-blinked on the icon, bringing up the message. His eyes crawled across the text twice, making sure he read the message right. He made a thoughtful sound as he left the ship, unsure if he should even bothering answering. Everywhere that woman went, she found trouble again and again, and Z'Gato was beginning to see her presence as both good and bad luck. However, he found a curious feeling dwelling in his chest that he wanted to answer. He found no other overwhelming reason not to, but he did not give up on the immediate impulse. "Charade, this is Z'Gato, the threat has been neutralized. How long before you are able to make the transit to your final destination?" The Chozo asked, which almost sounded like an impatient demand after Z'Gato spoke into his communicator. Static filled his helmet for a moment before the merchants responded back. "We have already brought our engines back online. We can make the push to our destination whenever you are ready," The captain said, and Z'Gato nodded, even though no one living was near his vicinity. He made his way to the hold where his ship rested and brought his ship's systems back online. "Very well, then. Let's make it quick," He said, once again, more of a demand than a request. "Another matter requires my attention." Another several hours passed, and the merchant vessel boarded the trade space station on the outer rim of the planet Varsees without any further incident. Z'Gato made sure the funds were transfered to his account with alacrity, though the amount was not really anything to get excited about. His current chore finished, Z'Gato looked back over at the message from Jenosa Arma. He still contemplated leaving it unanswered, as it was highly likely that the fool of a woman had managed to get herself into another situation that was beyond her talents, but at the same time, a part of him wanted to lay eyes on her again. It was a strange feeling, one that Z'Gato felt more uneasy about than the proposition of helping her, and he tightened his fist in irritation. Was he beginning to like this woman? Absurd. However, the avian of war soon found himself writing a response back to the strange bounty hunter all the same, signifying his willingness to help her out. If nothing else, he may yet find another Chozo artifact that could enhance his armor. He looked over at a strange device next to him, which rested inside a scanning tube. So far, he knew it was an armor upgrade, but he was not precisely sure what it did. For all he knew, it likely could be just a redundant upgrade for his armor, or his armor's systems didn't know how to process it yet. His eyes narrowed in irritation at it for a moment before finally sending the response back to Jenosa. TO: JENOSA ARMA FROM: Z'GATO BRIAHNLEM SUBJECT: Re: A Proposition TEXT: "This had better be good. I'm on my way." Edited by DarkKnightCuron, Jul 11 2011, 11:32 AM.
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Marching to the Black Gates...
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| ~Alissa~ | Jul 12 2011, 01:49 AM Post #3 |
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Alissa hung from a harness latched above the false ceiling listening to the people in the office below, she had cut through the floor above and was silently waiting for those in the offices below to leave for the night. Mentally she wanted to thank whoever had invented this particular architectural flair there were times it made her life easier. This job suited her mood of late, the last few had held a bit too much action in her mind. It was not as though she was bothered by the action, she was however not a interested in drawing attention to herself...there was always the chance of it getting back to the wrong people. And so here she was hanging from a beam listening to office workers talking about rather mundane plans for the weekend, rather unaware of what was hanging above them. Alissa was beginning to remember how dull this sort of work could be, and with the removal of any real danger and cooperate espionage was turning into something that she didn't care for too much. ----------------------------------------------------------------------------- sometime before dawn she made her way onto her ship **the information has been uploaded to your clients servers operative, payment has been transferred to your account** Alissa nodded beginning to put her gear away nodding quietly “messages?” **six, three guild recruitment requests, two more proposals from your current client, and one message from Jenosa Arma** Alissa paused looking to the display “ display message” Alissa reviewed the message quietly twice before looking to the heading of the others “ respond to that with an ETA, standard refusal for the others” she made her way back to change before getting underway, she had a few jumps to get through. A few days later she found herself in orbit around her destination heading for the spaceport curious to see what Jenosa had found, her last encounter had been rather interesting to say the least. Edited by Alissa, Aug 8 2011, 04:01 PM.
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| ~Jedi~ | Jul 12 2011, 03:02 AM Post #4 |
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One with the Force and Blade
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"So, then, you're sure that's what it says?" "Yes, ma'am," the helmsman replied curtly, taking the most fractional of glances backwards towards his commanding officer before returning his attention to the communications-array screen that he was stationed at. He could feel her take a few steps closer, gazing over his shoulder as if to read it herself. Whether or not that was the case, the young man leaned slightly to his right. A certain contact, one Jesnosa Arma, had found her way once again into contact with a rogue, and some would say pirate, federation prototype heavy cruiser, and the inhabitants within. It could easily be said that there was no love lost between the crew and this particular woman, along with the group of hunters she was often affiliated with; the crew, however, had come under new management after a series of events on a desolate, alien planet had shaken up their chain of command. And, universally, they would agree that it was for the better. Self-promoted Captain Emily Alexandra Voree stood on a familiar command deck, an amphitheater-like room spanned with computer monitors, weapons readouts, diagnostics, and, along the far wall, a viewscreen out to the front of the ship, currently shut off while they were in transit. Several of the bridge bunnies made their way from their various stations, exchanging data almost as much as idle chit-chat. The scenario they were running under now was much different from that of months ago; while still all former military personnel, a sense of laxity and liberalness was felt among the ship. What Kaivori lacked in tact, Voree had made up for by treating the good of her people above the nostalgia of a grand, crusading adventure amongst the stars. There was, of course, still a pseudo-military presence thriving among the ship, but everyone understood their place, and appreciated it as such. The commander herself, along with the majority of the staff, were dressed a bit more loosely, not having required to dress in their uniforms but not having much else. As such, Voree had her officers jacket slung over her shoulders, the black tanktop underneath a harsh contrast to the near-white that was a naval dress uniform. Her belt, similarly, was against any kind of military regulation, looking and acting more like a utility belt than a simple one. To her side was strapped a single, ancient revolver -- a present from her father upon her commission to the ship, before it went rogue -- with five bullets loaded, one empty shell in the final chamber. Voree nodded, if only to herself, and stood up a little straighter. It was time, it seemed, to pay back a debt that she owed to several bounty hunters for her life all those months ago. "Ensign, send a reply. Tell her we'll make our way to a far intercept point, and that she can use our ship as a rendezvous and tactical location for herself and the others. Faintly, the ship lurched under her feet as it changed course and trajectory, a message being in reply. It contained safety codes and a list of coordinates, which were to be distributed back to the hunters if they were intending to approach the Claymore without getting shot down. ======================================= In the pirate's possession, deep in space, the artifact seemed to warp the flow of energy around the area of the ship it was stored in. While not largely noticeable, due to it being in the cargo hold and not near any major power junctions, the processes was definitely taking place. Static electricity was strong throughout the air, an untamed feeling of excitement and energy jumping around. Occasionally, a cracking spark would light a fraction of the artifact while leaving the others in darker shadow. Somewhere, a pair of eyes open. A creature stirred, its senses calling to it. This creature realized what was happening, felt it's call, and it's purpose. And it just smiled. |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Jul 12 2011, 10:24 AM Post #5 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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There was a shrill whistle throughout the room. "How many credits did you say again?" "Um... alot. The Federation actually isn't giving any specific amount, but the final payout per hand is in the high hundred thousands, possibly a million. Travis... are you sure you're up for this...?" "Why wouldn't I be?" Came the simple reply of Travis Clark, kicking off his boots and taking a swig of water from his bottle. "A job is a job is a job is a high paying job." "Well... it's just every time - and I do mean *every* time there is some sort of artifact involved, we BOTH end up getting shot at." Came the pointed reply of an older, disembodied voice, gruff with age and british in origin. "Good point, but... this is what I do; I'm a bounty hunter, so I hunt. And unfortunately, you don't get much say in the matter of my profession, Constantine. If you don't want to be shot at that badly, you can stay on the frigate." Very recently, Travis had managed to put his amassed fortunes to good use; he didn't flaunt it often, but he was perhaps one of the richest bounty hunters in the galaxy; and he had some of the toys to show it too, mainly the new aquisition to his collection. He had run into the problem of people constantly trying to break into his residences on Earth, so instead of just having one home base, he figured why not have two? That was the birth of the Thunderwolf, a small frigate containing a residence, garden, training facility, tech shop, armory and small ship dock; it was a celestial, mobile residence for Travis; here, he could simply wait to launch the Arctic Storm, saving him time and money. Why should he have to go all the way back to Earth every time, he figured? Sure, he preferred the old oaks and fresh air in southern New Jersey, but it sadly wasn't practical all the time. "Alright," Constantine sighed, clearly resigned in the fact that Travis would not change his mind. "You make a fair point. So I take it we're telling her yes and that I should sign us onto the bounty?" "Yep. Not to mention I, uh... have to give her that." He trailed off. "Ah, l'amour.." Constantine grinned within his virtual world, teasing Travis. "Sh-shut up!" Came the unusually snappy retort from Travis. Constantine laughed. Taking a few simple steps, the Federation recieved confirmation of Deadeye Clark signing onto the bounty, and Jenosa Arma recieved a thoughtful letter from a certain old man, followed by a letter retorting that letter and greetings from a much younger hand. Edited by Deadly Aim, Jul 12 2011, 11:05 AM.
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| ~Bloody Pom~ | Jul 14 2011, 08:05 AM Post #6 |
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
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This was hopeless. No matter what he tried, whenever the drone's control system was activated it would go utterly berserk, bouncing off the walls and sending disruptor pulses flying around the room. Now the drone was once again scattered across a workbench, its creator tinkering with it single-mindedly, trying to figure out just what was causing the issue. Khaydarin crystal would make getting these damned things to work so much easier, Asakero thought to himself, and he would have let out a sigh of exasperation had he possessed a mouth. Instead he had to make do with shrugging his shoulders in frustration, and sweeping the gutted remains of the drone to one corner of the bench. It wasn't easy, being the only one of your kind. At least in this universe that was the case with the estranged Protoss. He still hadn't forgotten what had happened that fateful night on Shakuras, and the events that led to his being stranded in this reality, completely cut off from his home and people. He'd learned to live with it. Although some things he missed more than others. A few hours later, Asakero had left his small home on the sleepy human colony he'd settled on, and was now in the local spaceport, where his ship was gathering dust. He'd felt no reason to leave, living amongst the locals was easy enough despite his unique nature. Still, he couldn't neglect his means of transportation. What surprised him was the message waiting on his ship's computer. It was a job offer sent out by the Federation; apparently one of their research facilities had been raided by Pirates, and they had stolen only one item; an alien artifact they had been researching on-site. Its purpose was unknown. While he didn't exactly trust the Federation to be poking and prodding at things they didn't understand, Asakero had to admit that anything was safer in their hands than it was with the Pirates. It didn't take long for him to respond to the offer, fire up his vessel and head to the coordinates that were provided in the automated reply. He didn't yet realize how closely tied to this mysterious object he was... |
"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company![]() ![]()
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| ~SaintlyTurkey~ | Jul 19 2011, 07:04 AM Post #7 |
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BONEITIS!
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That sound again, coming from the cargo hold. Like a hammer thudding into a sack of meat. Considering the Hardcase and his cronies had dragged a prisoner into the cargo hold an hour ago, it probably didn't mean anything good. Even more foreboding was that the shouting had stopped, which Kroy had been able to hear from his cabin. Still though, as much as the Hardcase scared him, Kroy knew that there would be hell to pay if he wasn’t told about the message they’d just received. So, gathering his courage, he opened the door. The first thing he noticed was the man tied to a chair, his face blackened by bruises and with a string of bloody drool hanging from his mouth. Leaning over him was the Hardcase, clad from head to heel in his scarred armour. Sid was leaning by the door, and Surprise was lurking in one of the corners. “Boss?” Sid called out. “Kroy’s here.” The Hardcase cleaned his gauntleted hands with a cloth, which came away bloody. He was a big man, the Hardcase. Kroy usually wasn’t good at estimating heights, but at a guess he’d place the Hardcase at a little under seven feet tall. Clad in his scarred riot armour, he seemed even taller. Usually he went without his helmet, but today he wore it, which Kroy counted as a blessing. The filtering system made his voice even harsher, but at least Kroy didn’t have to look at his eye, that blistering orb of malice bulging out of the scarred flesh in an unquenchable rage. The Hardcase had painted a red eye onto the helmets visor, but thankfully it was no substitute to the real thing. “Of course he is. I’m not goddamn deaf. What is it Kroy?” The Hardcase spoke as he walked over to Kroy. Kroy noticed that the boss was tracking blood across the floor, which he’d more than likely have to clean later. “There w-was um… a m-message. Boss. F-for you.” He saw Surprise grinning in her corner. Kroy’s fear of the boss was an endless source of entertainment for her, it seemed. “And? Did you print it off? Where is it?” The Hardcase asked in that raspy voice of his, his hand digging into Kroy’s shoulder. “N-no, I uh... d-didn’t think to-” The boss backhanded him, and he tumbled to the floor, blood oozing from his nose and a split lip. He’d have a bruise on his cheek tomorrow morning too, more than likely. “Correct. You didn’t think. It seems a little dumbass like you rarely thinks. Surprise? Throw the prisoner out the airlock. Whether he’s telling the truth about pirates stealing my money or not, I can’t be bothered with pursuing it anymore.” And with that, he was gone from the cargo hold, more than likely off to read that message. |
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| +CEMP+ | Aug 8 2011, 03:45 PM Post #8 |
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Clockwork Master
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Jenosa, her green eyes momentarily shimmering cyan, pushed one of her hair bands to the side as she read the computer screen. She was mildly surprised, and content, with the speed of the replies, although the type of response was less so. Alissa was strait and to the point as ever, while Z'Gato still seemed to act like he had PMS; and, chuckling to herself, she wondered how much of a crush Travis Clark had on her. He certainly seemed to have feelings for her, which were understandably given what they've been through, but while she liked him and found him a good hunting partner at times, she strongly doubted she would ever be intimate with him. Honestly, she couldn't imagine having a relationship with him or any man at that. It was Voree's response that had been the last, and, to be truthful, the one she had been most anxious for. She and the captain had met under some very unusual...circumstances, one which had made their second, although more 'formal', chance encounter rather awkward; maybe even a little freaky for Voree. Nonetheless, the two got to know each other well afterward once each other learned about their mutual situations. In a way, they came to an agreement to, whenever possible, lookout for one another; although, Jenosa always felt she greatly owed Voree for what she had during their 'first encounter'. And perhaps now, she'd pay her back. Although eager to meet up, she need to send everyone a bit of information about what was going on, and what she had in mind. Instead of wasting time meeting in a single area, she simply explained what was going on, and suggested various coordinates and flight paths calculated by her A.I.; all which was based on various sources about the Pirate's possible flight bath. They could choose whatever search vector was closest, and, if they did this right, they corner the ship even if it was cloaked. Afterwards, she promptly plugged in Voree's coordinates into her ship's A.I. unit, and following that, proceeded with a mixture of enthusiasm and seriousness to make quick preparations. Granted, with the information she had obtained on the pirate's possible route, there was a strong chance that they'd just force the artifact over by cornering them in space; but Jenosa really enjoyed their jobs when there was some adrenaline pumping action, and she was hoping they'd put up a fight. Plus it always gave her a strong sense of female independence, one that she relished whenever she acted as a professional hunter. Having done the more menial routines - checking her if her guns were loaded, what's weapons supplies she had, etc - she walked to the end of the storage afts where there sat a rectangular, white metallic crate. It was the same as any of the other creates in the room, and while Jenosa generally bought the best equipment she could get a hold of; there was nothing superbly high tech in her ship. She mostly got around with her wits and quick thinking; but this had saved her skin in quite a few ugly situations. And her bond with it had only grown because of that. ---------------- Greetings each other on the comms, Jenosa's ship docked with the Claymore. The airlock hissing, Jenosa came out looking wearing a helmet-less suit that made her stand out amongst the ship's corridor. The technology that made up the suit she looked certainly unique, almost organic, in comparison with its industrial surroundings - or to any other form of combat armor at that. The closest description would an armoured wetsuit, as the deep blue metallic yet flexible plates were moulded in a fashion that matched, from her thighs to her entire upper section, the general contours of her body. Even so, there was nothing remotely indecent about it, the upper blue section having a full, white breast plate that looked plastic yet, at the same time, brimmed with a metallic sheen. Similarly, the lower legs and forearms were covered in the same material in the fashion of actual armor. However, what made the armor seem alien to the technological environment was the bright, light blue crevice lines that ran across various sections of her blue armor, as well as the two running parallel on her breast plate. Jenosa extended a blue hand in greeting towards the captain, the various section making it almost seamless. "Ah, long time no see, no?" |
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"I believe that the human spirit is indomitable. If you endeavor to achieve, it will happen given enough resolve. It may not be immediate, and often your greater dreams is something you will not achieve within your own lifetime. The effort you put forth to anything transcends yourself, for there is no futility even in death." — Monty Oum | |
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| ~Bloody Pom~ | Aug 9 2011, 01:08 PM Post #9 |
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Science Team has vapor for brains.
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It didn't take long after Jenosa arrived for another ship to drop out of warp, the vessel's bare alloy hull glimmering in the faint light of the closest star. Inter-system jump points seemed to be a popular meeting point for contracts of this nature. It kept them hidden, away from the comms traffic so prevalent in occupied Federation systems. It was obvious by the reception Asakero recieved that this was not somewhere the ones posting the contract wanted just anyone to be. The pair of fighters that had closed in on the Protoss' ship and maintained a holding pattern several hundred yards ahead were proof enough of that. "Unidentified vessel, state your business in this sector or leave immediately via the nearest jump node. This location is off-limits to private vessels at this time." Asakero has no doubt that his Corsair could handle a couple of interceptors, but it was neither necessary, nor advisable, considering the capital ship was both within range and likely harboring many more fighters. Federation-built vessels also had the virtue of being far more advanced than their Terran counterparts. With a few taps on the ship's command console, Asakero relayed his identification code, ship registry number and the security code provided in the automated reply to his contract confirmation. Several seconds passed, before the human voice spoke up once again. "Alright, this checks out. Vessel Void Wing, you are cleared to dock with the Claymore. Glad to have you along, contractor." Terrans. They were no different to the ones from his own universe; cautious to a fault, but prove your allegiance and your word was gold. ----------------- Soon after, the Void Wing touched down in the main hangar bay of the larger vessel, and Asakero was surprised to see he wasn't the first to arrive. The vessel shimmered for a moment, a pattern of blue hexagonal projections sweeping over the ship's surface before vanishing. A similar glowing polygon materialized on the hangar floor, several pulses of energy rising up and oscillating rhythmically as Asakero materialized in their place. Then the projection of energy vanished as quickly as it appeared. The Protoss' heavy footfalls echoed through the expanse of the hangar, a staff-like object gripped in his right hand as he approached a pair of female humans who were conversing further down the room. A single curt nod was offered to who he assumed was a fellow contractor, Asakero's attention quickly fixing itself upon the other woman, who was wearing Federation uniform, but not the way he expected; she had her officer's jacket slung over her shoulder like an afterthought. By the way the fighters hadn't matched the profile of what he usually saw escorting Federation vessels, coupled with how so many things seemed to conflict with Federation protocol, he had to assume that the ship was, in fact, independent. He wasn't surprised; Terran battlecruisers used to go 'missing' all the time in the Koprulu sector. Why should this universe be any different? He was silent for a few moments, regarding the woman, before he 'spoke'. The voice filled the minds of those nearby as though it was bypassing their ears entirely. It seemed to have a reverse echo, several smaller speakers talking incoherently before being drowned out by a clear, calm, polite-sounding voice. "Good day. I am Asakero. I assume you are the one responsible for posting the contract regarding a missing artifact?" Even though the voice was in their minds, Asakero's head moved and his eyes glowed faintly in time with the words. How they took the presence of the unique alien onboard their ship was their own decision, but he had extended an offer to help. He hoped they wouldn't refuse. Edited by Bloody Pom, Aug 10 2011, 01:46 AM.
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"A battle for supremacy against many foes is a battle of the best kind. There are few considerations, only those concerning where to place your next shot. It is war in its purest form." - Commander Karziel, Ultramarines 5th Company![]() ![]()
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| ~Alissa~ | Aug 16 2011, 03:18 PM Post #10 |
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***initiating search in grid 257A*** The ship was cloaked and quietly running through search patterns looking for the ship that had made off with the artifact, Alissa sat at the pilots station with the various parts of a pistol spread across the console next to her save the one she held in her hand cleaning quietly ***operative, I have a query*** Not looking up from her work “proceed” ***why accept this mission? Our needs are met with smaller jobs, and there is a risk of exposure on this*** Alissa paused before returning to her work “An ally requested assistance, and the risk is minimal” The question though was valid, the AI accepted the answer for the time being, though the more time went on the less computer like the AI seemed to be. And then there was the uncomfortable fact that Alissa had accepted the offered job based more on who had offered it. True they had worked together, but there was something else. Friendship is an alien concept to Alissa, she has no reference for it really but she did know she trusted Jenossa, and she sensed they were more alike than most other humans she had come across. ***initiating search in grid 257B*** |
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2:55 PM Jul 11