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Vergo Flux (SC RP); It's a working title
Topic Started: Jul 1 2011, 02:28 PM (8,289 Views)
~The Boss~
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Native Son

Flying first class had never been quite like this.

Most flights didn't have armed guards pacing the aisles rather than the customary flight attendants, nor did they require that all passengers be cuffed at all times. But that was how it went when you flew Department of Corrections. Sit down, shut up, and don't make any trouble unless you wanna get beaten up, tased, and locked up down in the luggage compartment. And you can forget about that in-flight movie while you're at it. Hey, at least the seats were comfortable.

One inmate in particular, a dark-haired woman with a tattoo sleeve on her right arm, sat quietly in her seat, staring out the window at the stars since there was nothing else to look at. Her hair was very short, starting to grow back after that Day One buzz cut that everyone got. It was just long enough now for the pixie look, but there weren't exactly a lot of stylists in prison. At least not unless they were in there for stabbing someone with a pair of scissors.

Five years. That's what they'd given Grace for the raid on G79. Thankfully, her murder charge had been tossed out on account of the fact that Jenosa Arma was still alive. Otherwise it'd have been twenty to life, easily. As it stood, what was left were a handful of charges that essentially amounted to run of the mill piracy, and a fairly light sentence that she was only likely to serve half of anyway. Still, even such a relatively short stay in the ol' Gray Bar Hotel was nothing to scoff at. She remembered when Jimmy went to prison (like her, courtesy of Travis "Deadeye" Clark). He only did four years, but even to her it felt like an eternity.

All you got is all the time in the world, Jimmy once said. Or was that Morgan Freeman? Whoever it was, Grace understood now. A few more jumps and she'd be at a new facility, in a new cell, and then nothing to do but count the days until freedom. Plenty of time to learn the ins and outs of the new place and come up with new escape plans which were mostly pipe dreams. But hey, everybody had their own way of getting through.

"Tiiiiiiime... is on my side... yes it is..."
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(OOC: Right then, I think thisd RP has suffered enough stalling, don't you all think)

Jenosa and Voree were quick to establish a tactical meeting after the warm greetings were over, reviewing the data she had from various anonymous sources. Jenosa wasn't a decent tactical commander, and while she didn't know Voree's tactical skills, the captain did point a few flaws in patrol trajectories. she was glad to have reviewed the plan with Voree.

Then their expected newcomer arrived; Jenosa didn't really know the xenomorph personally (Although his name rung a bell), but from what her sources told her, he might be good to have aboard in case the artifact had some kind of booby trap or weird distortion, considering it was alien in origins. While Jenosa greeted Asakero with a wry smirk and social attitude she normally held to anyone, there was something...odd; muddled amongst her recognizable human emotions and thoughts was this alien aspect that his mind couldn't entirely make sense of.

Afterwards, Jenosa explained to Asakero the situation and partially why he was brought here, and what was currently going to happen. Seeming to agree passively, and in a conversation that was a little weird for her since she was hearing his voice resonate inside her head, they went about to initiating their plan.

It wasn't too long before their tactic of cornering the ship payed off, after having recieved a few more anonymous but trustworthy calls that the pirate ship was having cloaking issues. Jenosa wondered if the pirate captain was infurated with the mechanic right now, something she quipped to Voree. One ship after another chased the flickering pirate ship until they had it at a deadlock.

Or at least that was it seemed to be at first sight. however, upon closer visual inspectin, the crew on the Claymore were noticing somekind of electricity bouncing around the ship's hull, almost distorting the stars where ever it was. And there was certainly somekind of energy spike readings coming from it that both the hunters and Claymore could make out.

With no response to any hails from the surrounding ships, everyone began to make an effort to figure out what the energy spike was, and if it was safe to board the ship. Little did any of them know what was about to happen.
"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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~Alissa~
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***The anomaly does not match any known patterns, however it is clearly interfering with the targets cloak***

Alissa sat watching the sensor display watching as the pirate ship seemed to flicker in and out of existence. Her own cloak was of course active, keeping her silent and invisible as she held a safe distance away from the vessel. The ship had stopped moving when it became clear it would not be able to escape the net that had been built for it. Really the plan had worked rather well, though at the moment they small fleet of hunters had not approached too closely.

“hypothesis?” Alissa asked the computer quietly, no one was moving yet, there was no reason for her too either

*** my sensors are not able to gather enough information to make a reasonable hypothesis, this is not a science vessel***

Alissa smirked a moment, the AI almost sounded annoyed. She sighed a moment and leaned back in her chair. They had no information as to what was happening inside the ship. They could be disabled for all they know and with no way to see what was going on they were sitting and waiting.

When the claymore Alissa disengaged the cloak allowing the new ship to see where she was, along with transmitting a simple greeting to make sure the large vessel knew she was friendly. She wasn't interested in getting shot at.

Alissa opened a a com to the other ships “Are we going to sit in space looking at the ship or do we have a plan?”

At this point they had more than enough fire power, Alissa was getting a bit bored sitting in space watching a ship with a failing cloak.
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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Already, things weren't looking good.

As the Thunderwolf warped into the system, the first thing Travis saw on his instruments was a huge spike of some sort of unstable energy flowing through the area. Whatever it was, it wasn't large in mass, this he knew... but the sheer power being generated was something else. And yet, for whatever reason, the frigate's sensors could not place it.

But that wasn't the only thing that had his attention. As soon as he approached the designated rally point, part of him wanted to immediately turn the ship around and warp out simply due to bad memories; but he needed money, and he didn't see the harm in at least giving the people aboard that ship a chance as they had given him.

["This is the Thunderwolf warping in, I'm picking up a huge energy spike on my scanners, and I presume you all are as well. Also: if it's any comfort to the crew I won't ask to board unless requested; I know I'm not exactly everyone's favorite man on board that ship."]

As the frigate drifted closer to the friendly cruiser, the first thing Travis noticed upon studying the target of interest was the shape of the hull of what he immediately knew to be a vessel belonging to the Zebeth Armada; he'd studied those prints and models in his sleep when he was a teenager, he knew all too well how to identify Zebesian tech. It looked like it was trying to cloak, and yet... it seemed to be blurring every now and then.

(Strange...)
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~The Silver Fox~
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(OOC: And, after...I forget how many months of absence, I'm finally getting back into the RP's here. Fitting, I suppose, that I make my return during writing month)

The silver arrowhead split the star-studded backdrop of space as it warped in at the designated rally point.

"Claymore, this is the Vis," Katherine Hansen hailed the former Federation warship, "requesting permission to dock."

"Vis, this is the Claymore. Channel secured; state your business."

"Federation commission to recover the artifact these pirates stole," the brunette responded. "Sending authorization now."

"Hold that thought, Vis...alright, got it. Authorization recieved, and everything looks good on our end. Proceed to the primary hanger bay. Be advised, we're sending an escort wing out to fly you in. Claymore out."

Vis was not the unarmed, light personal transport ship that her brother's old Nox was. Rather, it was a ship far more fitting for Kathi's increasing role as a peacekeeper. Bought with money donated by Jenosa Arma just before her death back on G79 and from her own recent commission work with the Federation itself, the gunship sported two impressive plasma canons at the roots of the wings and a smaller, caseless rotary turret in the nose.

That money had allowed the private investigative contractor to afford far more important things than firepower. Shortly after the G79 incident ended - God, she never wanted to revisit that - her mother had won their lawsuit against the pharmeciutical and insurance companies. That had allowed her to find a better solution to her psychotic condition than twice-daily injections.

Kathi rolled her shoulders, the shining metal of the cybernetic implants anchored to her shoulder blades and the upper half of her spine, its segments mimicing organic design, rubbing against the fabric of her seat through her shirt. It was an odd feeling, one she still wasn't used to, but it was a small price to pay for having the machine regulate her medication for her. Especially since it came with other useful features she could use in her line of work.

And that line of work - as much as she knew her brother would disapprove - was sending her ever closer to joining one organization: the Hunters' Guild. This mission was yet another commission straight from the Federation, but unlike the regional work she'd done before, this was big. Hell, the fact that the Claymore of all ships was here was proof enough of that.

She still hated that ship. It was entrenched amongst her memories of the incident on G79, when she'd nearly lost herself completely to the madness impressed on her brain. It was also when she met her current role model...and where that role model met her own end. Unless the rumor grapevine was to be believed, that is.

And, in all honesty, that was the other reason she was here. She had to know the truth.

"Transport Vis, this is Reaper 1-1 and 1-2, taking up your four and eight. We'll follow your approach."

"Chel, get suited up," she announced over the ship’s intercom to her passenger, "we're heading in to dock."

"Already done," the bounty hunter shouted down the corridor to the cockpit. "And it's about damn time. I've still got a delivery to make after this, you know."

"Yeah, yeah, complain a little more, why don't you?" Kathi muttered under her breath as she plugged the docking course into the Vis's autopilot and rose from her seat to get properly suited up herself.

--------------------------------------

A pair of blue, vaguely camo-patterned metal boots hit the Claymore's hangar bay as their owner hopped off the last step of her ship's boarding ramp. Kathi's new armor was far better than the old SWAT harness plates she'd worn on G79, despite the fact that it shared its light-blue color and the angular, pseudo-military look with the older set. Being a full body suit, it was noticeably heavier, but also came with all the standard features for a proper set of power armor. Not standard military issue, of course, but it was a rugged and reliable set made by a company who catered primarily to PMC's anyway. Her weapons were new as well; a lightweight plasma rifle was magnetically attached to her back, and a pistol her brother had "liberated" from its rich owner once upon a time rested in its holster at her side.

She took a moment to look at her reflection in the side of her ship, and instantly regretted it. In the distorted reflection that stared back at her from the curved surface, she could notice that hint of violet that had been stuck in her normally blue eyes ever since the incident that nearly took her sanity.

Behind her, Chel Rosara's boots hit the deck one after the other with significantly less noise. The platinum blonde bounty hunter wore a set of military cargo pants with too many pockets and a simple and extremely lightweight armor and weapons harness over her chest and shoulders. This left the digital-pattern tattoo on her left arm and the obvious cybernetic implants along her arms, the backs of her hands, and the base of her neck visible. Unlike Kathi's, there were mechanical and inorganic in appearance, with soft purple lights glowing on some of them.

Tearing her gaze away from her reflection and from Chel and that damned purple color purple, as she noticed one of the ships in the hangar that looked a little too familiar. Her breathing quickened as she swept the room, her eyes settling on a small group of people conversing a distance away that she began walking towards; one alien of a species she couldn't recognize, one woman who was probably one of the crewmembers (judging by the uniform jacket slung over her shoulder), and...

Her pace slowed without her noticing, allowing Chel to catch up. "Hey, what's wrong, Kat?" Her brother's girlfriend asked. "You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Yeah," Kathi heard herself say, but didn't feel herself moving her lips. "I think I just did." Eyes still focused dead ahead, she began to jog towards the group, leaving the phasewalker behind to catch up once again.

"You..." she tried to begin as she neared, her voice catching nervously in her throat. "You're alive?" she finally managed. "Jenosa, is that really you?"
Edited by The Silver Fox, Nov 3 2011, 03:08 PM.
Once, there was a maiden...
...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world.
So she tore out her heart, and made war against it.
In victory, she sealed it in a locket,
and trapped in a casting of bronze.
"Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said.
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Jenosa made an exasperated sigh as the time went by while they tried to figure out what the heck was going on with the ship. She shared her sentiments with Alissa, “Hey, I hate just sitting around here and doing noting at all,” she replied over the com, “but in case you haven’t looked, it’s like that ship’s got a storm brewing inside of it.”

Indeed, the electrical energy crackling around the pirate’s hull had increased in frequency, and following suite, so did the distortions surrounding it. The latter was what was most unsettling about this, for now it no longer looked like the ship was trying to cloak - heck, the ship now seemed an empty deralect now - but rather, as if space itself was being twisted. Whatever it was, it seemed wrong, and Jenosa didn’t like it one bit - and to a point where she was now thankful to be on the Claymore than there.

Now Jenosa had seen a lot of weird things in her life, but this was certainly new, and she strongly doubted it had been caused by a simple reactor malfunction or lack of maintenance. No, her gut concluded, this must have something to do with that artifact. It was unfortunate that Federation had ommitted any useful or possible details about the artifact, and, knowing from another experience, the price they were willing to pay indicated that they did know something. Whatever it was, they didn’t want the pirates to use, hence the secrecy; and that was fine; she understood that a government had to keep somethings secret - a fact she knew all to well from experiance.

It was the reason why she had went to the effort to fish out Asekaro, for she knew there was a good chance he might be able to identify anything weird about. It was what he was doing at this moment, but it was obvious he was having some technical difficulties.

She was about to ask him how much longer until she heard a familiar voice, one that made her stood still despite knowing the person was coming - because of all the people that Jenosa had wanted invited to this little party, it was Kathi that she had been the most hesitant with. Kathi, when they had met on G79, had reminded Jenosa of herself when she was in her youth - energetic, enthusiastic, but brash. She had also reminded herself of what she had experienced and had become, and while she never spoke to Kathi about her past, she always emphasized for Kathi’s mental condition because of it. It was there she knew, proudly, that she had become a role model, and it was there that she had, in fact, died.

It was an experience she did not recall fondly, but it was the experience of her body coming back to life that always made her spine shiver, no matter how long it had been. And admittedly, it unnerved her in meeting the friends - at least for the first time - that had witnessed her die, or seen her dead, especially with what she had become. She was also concerned of the shock that Kathi might have go in seeing her alive, all considering her mental condition.

But then Voree had reminded Jenosa, in a brief conversation before arriving, of the facts and rumours about her being alive floating about society; even if Jenosa had never registered herself for the Hunter’s Guild, word of her professional attitude had a tendency to spread. She knew now it was only proper that Kathi know the truth.

Turning around finally, Jenosa saw a person that, at first glance, she wouldn’t have recognized for Kathi. The new set of hardware and armour, as well as the hint of violet in the eyes, made her look much different from that of the woman she had met on G79; but the expression on her face and the emotion in her voice was the Kathi knew.

Jenosa made a wry smile, her green eyes flaring an alien blue momentarily. “Yeah, it’s me,” she spoke reassuringly, “alive and in the flesh.”
"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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~Jedi~
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The odd conglomerate of women and alien spanning a wide array of profession, all somehow rhyming with 'privateer,' convened as they arrived. The talking was taken care of. Now, it mostly boiled down to execution. As they exited the jump to the latest reported location of the thieves, the Claymore was brought up to full combat alert. A droning alarm buzzed through every hallway and mess, Marines preparing themselves for boarding action and pilots to their fighters. Outside, the heavy gauss turrets slowly rotated in their berths, silently taking aim to deliver a five-pound piece of magnetized death fired at a fraction of the speed of light.

"Status report?" Voree asked, standing at the helm of the bridge with her hands clasped behind her back. She had adjusted her uniform to properly wear the jacket now, determination lining her face as she knew her 'guests,' were watching. While a few ships remained in the space around the Claymore and the enemy ship, there were several of the hunters -- Jenosa included -- that she had invited onto the bridge to watch the first part of the plan unfold. So far, it was not going as they intended, though that wasn't a bad thing in the least bit; the ship didn't even seem to have the ability to fight back.

"Power to the vessel appears to be offline, ma'am," one of the ensigns said, the older man typing in a few commands to his station. "I'm detecting a surprisingly few number of life signs from the inside. Most of the ship is running dark."

Voree grimaced. This was...disconcerting. The enemy ship was most definitely a heavy cargo freighter and, while about a third of the tonnage of the larger warship, was customized by both civilian and military gear to turn it into something resembling a destroyer. A ship like that, even without the additional weapons stations, would need a crew of at least three dozen to run efficiently. And, with the reports of how the artifact was easily lifted, it was more likely that they had a grouping of almost double that.

"Any signs of battle?" the Captain asked, glancing over her shoulder a moment to gauge the hunter's reactions.

"Nothing more than the expected wear and tear, ma'am," another ensign replied, gazing up at the primary view screen.

"Mutiny?" she asked aloud, drumming her fingers against the railing. "They could've had a coup and tried to keep more of the money for themselves."

"It doesn't appear that way, ma'am," the first, elder bridge officer commented. "They wouldn't incapacitate their own ship if that was the plan. Besides, the artifact appears to still be on board, and all escape pods are berthed...hang on, I'm detecting unusual energy signatures." There was a pause, Voree glancing down at the ensign before he brought it up on the main screen. Overlaying the ship was an augmented reality display, a strange pulsing coming from the rear cargo hold that flooded compartment after compartment with a hazy, orange glow. "There appears to be large quantities of an unknown energy signature flooding many of the aft compartments. It's possible that the raiders were killed by it."

Silence. For several moments, the Captain fought with herself internally. None of this boded well, but then again, the pirates were mostly taken out because they were caught off-guard. She and the hunters had the advantage here. After glancing back at the assembled hunters one more time, she cleared her throat and stood up a little straighter. "Alright, slight change of plans. Get the Marines loaded into exposure suits and continue with the assault as planned." She turned back to the small group aboard her bridge. "You may want to get to your ships."


==================================================


Twenty minutes later, a small buzz of activity left the hangar bay of the Claymore. A large, cumbersome Liberator-class transport flew through the space, escorted by a pair of Reaver fighter-bombers. The rest of the Hunter ships were with them, a strange sight by any definition of the term. "Attention all Hunters," the comms officer broadcasted, "we are moving to initiate contact with the enemy ship. Remember your role: The Marines will secure the bridge while you make your way to the artifact and prep it for exfli. Rendezvous in the hanger immediately before deployment."

The Reavers were the first ones into the hanger, missiles armed and guns primed to shoot at anything. They hovered a few dozen feet off of the floor, moving slowly on their hovering positions before the Liberator came in behind them. The assault fighters pulled back, their firepower only so useful in an area where they couldn't maneuver, and resumed their patrol outside of the ship. Marines poured outside of the ship, armor a bit bulkier than normal due to the extra precaution the Captain requested. They fanned out, making sure that there was nothing moving within the large hangar.

And there was, literally, nothing moving. No automated systems outfitting the three fighter craft that were there, no technicians, not even a computer monitor. The room was dimly lit, the bright landing lights of the Liberator a harsh contrast to the flickering glow of ceiling lights that barely illuminated the floor. After a few moments, the reports came back with clear all around, and most of the marines converged while others took positions covering the few doors into the hangar.

"This place gives me the creeps," one of the men muttered, voice slightly digitized from the helmet she was wearing.

"Yeah," another, a corporal judging from the slashes on his armor, agreed. "I've got a bad feelin' about this."

"Boy, you've always got a bad feeling about something," the sergeant said, glancing around as the Hunters gathered. "Alright, we've got our job and you've got yours," he said aloud, laying his rifle over his shoulder for a moment. "Stay in contact and watch yourselves. We'll buzz you when we secure the bridge, so we expect the same courtesy." After a beat, nodding at each of them, he slung his gun back down and jogged towards the far door, leading towards the fore section of the ship. "Alright, marines! Let's move! Check your corners, close-quarters. Crew expendable. Vasquez," he said, pointing at the first marine who'd spoken, "you've got point."


============================================


As the hunters moved towards the aft of the ship, they'd notice that the dim lighting didn't improve any. Malfunctioning equipment appeared to be everywhere, power surges occasionally sending sparks raining down from the ceiling in a static pop. The only thing to great them as they moved back were bodies; every few dozen feet there was a corpse, blood pooling from his or her mouth, nose, eyes and ears. There didn't appear to be any sign of major trauma, no fighting or the like. The floor, it seemed, was growing thicker with the crimson liquid, until they'd notice that the hard, echoing reverberation of their boots meeting metal gave way to a soft squishing feeling, as if they were walking on moss. The ground was coated in a thin, organic matter, dull-grey in coloration.

As they advanced to the cargo hold, the matter would spread to the walls and ceiling, eventually cutting out all light save for that coming from their suits. Inside, nestled against the back wall, was a dimly-glowing sphere of pure energy, hovering freely a few feet off of the ground. It was...odd, like a miniature black-hole in it's nature; while it wasn't actively sucking in everything around it (in fact, the boxes appeared to have been slightly repulsed by it), it was a glow that no light escaped from, the center a dead, unimaginable black while the edges appeared to have a faint blue-purple tinge.

The hunter's radio cackled a moment later, the signal obviously distorted and hard to understand. "Serg...-ecured the bridge. A few pirates, no casualties. They're....-omething in the hold. Don't know what to make..."

A louder, clearer voice suddenly boomed through, this signal resonating from the Claymore. "Energy spike! Brace brace brace!"

The sphere in front of them glowed white for a single, solitary moment before a large, clear wave of energy radiated out from it, throwing the nearby crates away with an astounding amount of force and likely knocking the hunters back. It continued to glow, slowly increasing in size...


"Fatalis Maximus"
 
Hey, just because you're anthropomorphic doesn't mean you can have three thumbs, you bastard.


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~The Silver Fox~
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Jenosa Arma was alive.

Kathi had heard the rumors, but probability never favored resurrection. She had heard of plenty of cases of people being declared dead and then showing up alive later, yes, but those people almost invariable faked their own deaths. She knew Jenosa hadn't, even before she saw the body.

And yet here that very same woman was, standing before her.

"I..." Kathi began, rubbing at her forehead. "I heard the rumors, but...I didn't expect them to actually be true."

As her mind raced, Chel stepped in. "So, while she's busy thinking of what to say next, I don't believe we've been introduced." She extended her hand. "Chel Rosara, bounty hunter and phasewalker. I've heard some interesting things about you, Miss Arma, resurrection notwithstanding." A smirk crossed her face as she added, "I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."

Even as the introductions ended, and Chel briefly spoke with Voree about the mission before heading back to the Vis to get her E.V.A. gear ready, Kathi was still mulling things over. People didn't miraculously recover from blood loss. Left alone, the loss of blood pressure and oxygen wreaked havoc with the body. There had been no cryostasis systems to shove Jenosa into on G79 in time to revert clinical death, as had happened in several cases in the past.

And yet, there was no denying the fact that she was alive. But even that was suspect, given that blue flare Kathi had seen in Jenosa's eyes. She knew it was Jenosa, knew it in her gut, but...things just didn't add up.

"How?" Kathi asked. "I believe you, but the last time I saw you, you..." a slight tremor entered her voice, eyes falling towards the floor, "you were dead. Dead people don't just come back to life. It just doesn't make sense to me. I keep trying to figure it out and it just doesn't..." she let herself trail off, raising her eyes back to match the bounty hunter's.

"How are you alive?"

------

"That corporal isn't the only one with a bad feeling about this," Kathi muttered behind her helmet, standing after examining one of the dead pirates.

"No shit," Chel remarked, poking at the man's head with her boot. "Poor bastards got their brains fried, looks like."

"Does that really happen in cases of psychic overload, though?" the brunette questioned. "I thought that was just a movie thing..."

"Got any better suggestions?"

Kathi didn't answer, instead kicking at the ground. "Looks like moss or fungus," she commented, changing the subject. "Never seen anything like it, though."

Chel fished through one of her pockets as her boyfriend's sister spoke and pulled out a small, secure-storage hardcase. Unsheathing her knife, she stabbed it into the gray mass. As she cut, black ichor seeped out. "Christ, I sharpened this thing this morning, and it feels like cutting a steak with a butter knife," the bounty hunter complained as she sawed away. Once the section was freed, she lifted the stringy mass and, oily black liquid still dripping from it, plopped it into the hardcase and waited a few seconds. "Well, it's not dissolving the box. That's a good start," she commented, wiping the fortunately gloved hand she had picked it up with against the nearest pirate while pocketing the case with the other. "Hopefully Mark can help me figure out what this shit is when we're done..." Looking up into the dim corridor, she finally noticed her companion's suit lights ahead of her, and moving away at a steady clip. "Hey, Kat, wait up!"

She caught up in the cargo hold, but any thoughts on rebuking the armored PI were put on hold as she caught sight of what the room held. "...that's interesting," the blonde managed, her eyes locked on the glowing sphere in the hold.

"No kidding," Kathi echoed. "If I had to guess, I'd say it's a naked singularity of some kind, but relativistic physics isn't my area of expertise. Jenosa," she called out to the red-haired hunter, "any idea what this thing is?"

"Serg...-ecured the bridge," one of the Marines called over the radio, the message largely obscured by heavy static. "A few pirates, no casualties. They're...-omthing in the hold. Don't know what to make..."

A sudden alarm on her heads-up-display alerted Kathi to a massive emissions spike coming from the main focus of attention. "Anyone else-" she began, but Chel was already moving, even before another radio transmission cut her off.

"Energy spike!" a much clearer call from the Claymore blared over their comms. "Brace, brace, brace!"

Chel began phasewalking the second the cruiser's alert came over the radio. And yet, as the shockwave overtook her, she could feel herself being forced back into phase with the ship, shortly before a rather painful collision with the wall of the hold.
Once, there was a maiden...
...whose tears of grief nearly drowned the world.
So she tore out her heart, and made war against it.
In victory, she sealed it in a locket,
and trapped in a casting of bronze.
"Such is the price of unguarded emotion," she said.
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~Alissa~
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Alissa moved with the group through the ship towards the cargo hold quietly, pistol drawn though kept lowered. There were no signs of life in the corridors, and her suits sensors only detected movement from those around her.

***unknown biological substance***

The message flashed across her HUD several times before vanishing to be replaced by a small flashing biohazard symbol. Alissa turned to look as one of the others collected a sample, part of her considered reminding the hunter that was outside the parameters of their mission, though she thought better of it.

The group came into the cargo hold and stopped looking at what was well outside her own experience. She studied it a moment in curiosity before recalling that her suits sensors would likely do a better job than she could

***analyzing*** came the cool voice of her ship’s AI

***the object is emitting the same energy detected from outside of the vessel; it is likely that this is the source of the interference. ***

Curiosity was still something slightly new to Alissa, she paused in her approach of the object letting her suits sensors feed her information, not that the suit or the AI back on her ship could make heads or tails of the information it was getting.

***Alert, there is a build of energy in the object***

"Energy spike! Brace brace brace!"

And moments later Alissa found herself slammed by an advancing wave front that sent her flying back towards the bulkhead, she picked herself up looking towards the object again

“if that is what we are here for how are we supposed to transport it?”
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Clockwork Master

Despite her calm demeanor and expectations, Jenosa's own mind raced much like Kathi's was; only hers had begun, and ended, way ahead. How would she react? How would she think of her? What would she think of her? With those green eyes, full of enthused spirit, flaring sky-blue in such an alien manner that, despite the many time it happened, would still freak her out when saw them in a mirror.

It was, though, she had learned to swallow to an extent, given how she was going to have to live with who she was; which wasn't that bad. On the contrary, while her alien senses did still irk her from time to time, she was beginning to find her...new abilities quite a boon, primarily in her field.

Speaking of which, the other blond woman that had come with Kathi was enthusiastic enough to introduce herself while the brunette was still trying to make sense of reality. "So, while she's busy thinking of what to say next, I don't believe we've been introduced." She extended her hand. "Chel Rosara, bounty hunter and phasewalker. I've heard some interesting things about you, Miss Arma, resurrection notwithstanding." A smirk crossed her face as she added, "I'm looking forward to seeing you in action."

Jenosa should Chel's hand with a smirk of her own, eagerly greeting the other female hunter with equal enthusiasm; it wasn't often she met another woman like herself who didn't have a cold personality. "Phasewalker, huh? Name rings a bell but I can't put a finger on what it means. I look forward to seeing what you can pull off, given the cybernetics I can see - and feel, or rather the energies within them - on you. Also," she added, "to actually be honest, I look at 'it' as less a resurrection and rather a strange, near death experience. One that I wouldn't recommend."

As Chel left to do her own things, Kathi finally came.

"How?" Kathi asked. "I believe you, but the last time I saw you, you..." a slight tremor entered her voice, eyes falling towards the floor, "you were dead. Dead people don't just come back to life. It just doesn't make sense to me. I keep trying to figure it out and it just doesn't..." she let herself trail off, raising her eyes back to match the bounty hunter's.

"How are you alive?"

Jenosa made a nervous smile as she spoke to Kathi, "Magic...would be the one, single word I'd use for my explanation...but in all honesty, you deserve to know the story. The whole story. My story." She sighed as she stared at the floor briefly, "I love to tell you it actually, but it's rather complicated and long, and we might need a camp fire for it," she joked, "Sadly, this isn't the place and time."

"Still, you deserve to know at least something for coming all the way here." And she spoke her next sentence with tentative words, "I'm alive for the same reason my irises - she pointed to them as she purposefully made them flare - do this now. Now we have work to do."

-----

Like everyone else, Jenosa was getting some very bad feelings about being inside the ship, and it wasn't just a gut reaction or deduction from the weird bio-matter and dead pirates. Everything about the ship's atmosphere made her hairs stand on end; it was like the surrounding air tingled with a living static that moved all around her body. She was pretty sure she was the only feeling things because nobody else was making the description, and whatever it was, it was unsettling for Jenosa. Very unsettling.

As they moved throughout the derelict ship, that unnerving, tingling sensation ever intensifying, they came across a weird, organic carpet that brought back vivid memories of her times on Inos. It was definitely alive - she could feel that - and it definitely made her wonder what the hell was really going on; but at least it didn't hinder her movement unlike a particular blood red matter.

Then they got to the source of the...alien energy in the air. There, Kathi used some small scientific theorization she didn't understand, and then asked her what she thought of it. "None," she replied she looked at the orb warily, "all I know...is that I don't like being near it."

It was then that she felt the glowing orb pulsating heavily, hitting her body with a tingling wind that not only had no force but was absorbed into her body. She didn't need to be told that there was an energy spike, she instinctively knew it was coming and had already braced herself for the force. Except there was no force, only her vision being bathed in pure white, the energy surrounding and seeping into her body and mind.

-------

In another area of space, dubbed the Korprulu sector by, at minimum, three races, a small, cloaked ship zipped across a territory that's it pilot knew there was a good chance was hostile territory. Hence the pilot's eagerness to get out of this region, find its next destination, and discard the stolen ship...and the unconscious technician that it had, strangely, not killed like rest of the crew during the theft.

The pilot became soon became confident it would succeed; it had to. After all, was one of the Dominion's greatest soldiers, and their best means of fending off its many foes, and failure was not an option in the pilot's mind.

Then, without warning, the pilot's world rocked and flashed.
"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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