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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 (8,288 Views) | |
| ~Jedi~ | May 9 2012, 09:09 PM Post #21 |
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One with the Force and Blade
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Completely disregarding the attempts of the hunters, the orb quickly began to grow larger, the whiteness at the center nearly blinding as yet another energy pulse rocked outwards. This one pierced the ship’s hull, emitting itself into the space around and even shaking the Claymore. “ALL HANDS, ABANDON THAT SHIP,” Captain Voree shouted into the comm-link being broadcasted towards the derelict ship, trying in vain to save her people. Her message, however, would go unheard; all that anyone outside of the Claymore was a loud pop of static as the link crashed. With barely any time to react, the singularity pulsed one final time, the entirety of its form expanding into space. It passed through people, metal and vacuum with equal ease, a white wall that formed a sphere around several kilometers of space. As the hunters were enveloped, they would not feel pain. They would not feel life leaving their bodies. All they would feel was dull warmth and a loss of consciousness. The nova grew to surround the Claymore and the pirate’s ship, before fading away. Were anybody outside of the sphere, looking in, the ships would have seemed to simply disappear, evaporating within the white sphere of pure energy. The energy sphere, now without a power source, violently shook itself apart, a much more conventional explosion of energy shooting out in all directions. It was even strong enough to reach several million kilometers out, tearing into a certain prison transport ship that was in the middle of a warp jump and bringing it along for the ride – albeit, in a much less pleasant manner than those who’d been enveloped in the singularity. Those of less sturdy disposition died immediately, blood slowly seeping out of their ears as the ship violently shook and tossed its’ internal contents about. =============== Time had no true sense of scale as they floated in what seemed to be a void of white energy. They could’ve been there for seconds, they could’ve been there for hours. Slowly, though, the whiteness would fade. They would awaken, scattered about the cargo hold with many of the electronic systems on the fritz, shaken and manipulated by the energy. Near where the singularity once hovered was a small artifact, no bigger than a football and shaped like a three-dimensional infinity symbol or an hourglass. Everything inside was an absolute mess, but it appeared no different than when they’d left it. What had changed, though, was the area outside of the cargo hold. Every single body they had passed on the way in was now gone, and the meat-like moss had grown into the superstructure of the entire ship. The lights that had been running along the ceiling continued to glow through the substance, giving an eerie blueish glow that seemed to slowly shift as whatever the moss was moved around the light fixtures. Until they reached the hangar, they would be unable to raise any comm signals. The Marines were nowhere to be found, at least for the time being. Their transport remained berthed in the hangar, the autopilot requesting to return to the Claymore. Finally, a single communications message was able to pierce the ship and the moss, loud and clear: “Attention all Bounty Hunters and Marines aboard the pirate’s ship: This is Captain Voree. I…don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly.” The last message would seem strange, but it would be answered by merely looking out the viewports. The Claymore floated nearby, having lazily listed near the pirate ship. However, surrounding them was an entire fleet of ornate, gold-colored warships of an alien design. Swarms of small fighters flew through space around the two ships, and several smaller support vessels were surrounding the Claymore, looking as if they were built around a large crystal of sorts. A single, commanding voice echoed through the ship, both through their comm units and invading their thoughts. “This is High Executor Selendis. Your transgression is a heresy. Dock your ships and prepare to be boarded, or taste the purifying flame of our warships.” |
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| +CEMP+ | May 16 2012, 08:43 PM Post #22 |
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Clockwork Master
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Almost everyone had found themselves waking up inside the pirates; 'almost' being the definitive term, because as everyone took a head count - and this was before the Claymore's message and the awarness of the alien ships - they noticed that one person was missing. Someone who had been close as the rest had been to the 'blast' of the singularity. Jenosa Arma .................... Weightlessness. That was the term that Jenosa found best to describe her current, ongoing experience after the wave of energy had not only entirely engulfed her, but rushed and surged throughout her entire body. There had oddly been no pain or discomfort when this happened, and, in fact, she had been filled with a brief, fleeting ecstasy as she felt her body absorb the sweet energy like it were nectur. Without thought, she found herself breathing in as much as she could, finding herself just brimming with it as the wave finally passed, and through that, she felt...transformed somehow. It was like her body and consciousness were one, floating in a state of limbo as though she no longer had a physical, human body, and yet at the same time still did. There were no arms or legs to move, no eyes to see through or ears hear with, or lungs to breath, and yet she felt like she still had all of those and every other body part she had ever been connected with. And in place of her five senses was her alien sixth sense, which had expanded and intensified her awarness of everything around her tenfold. At first, however, there was simply pure 'white' noise noise around her; and in a way, she thought she 'saw' it like that too, as everything she sensed might as well have formed in image in her mind. It almost like a dream, really, but a part of her knew that this was all very real somehow, and she knew enough not to deny it. Even so, she found this 'white' noise filled world oddly tranquil, and couldn't help but relaxed to it for a time; thoughts that had been been on her mind such as the bounty and recent strange events all slipped her mind. It almost like she was sleeping, and as the noise gradually faded, she found herself waking up to a more defined, yet blurry, reality that she could not fully distinguish. Recent events began to play back in her mind and she now wondered what had really happened, especially to her; she could still feel herself floating in this strange state. However, she could also feel...people. Yes, she was absolutely certain of that she could sense everyone that she had been with with above her, including Kath. How she made she made herself move, and how she even knew how to do it, was beyond her knowledge, only that she did and was making a bee line for them. As she did, she could feel her sixth sense shrinking, and what she could only describe as her body wanting to 'snap' back together like a spring. At the last moment, she realized that 'above' was actually 'below.' .................. (OOC: Gonna do a short auto on your Kathi, SF. Hope you don't mind?) Only shortly after the headcount where people were not only trying to figure out what happened but also look for Jenosa - and they still had yet to receive Voree's call. Of those, Kat was particular determined, and continously called out her name. And as if on cue, Kathi heard a 'whump' that was accompanied by a flash of light above her; she looked just in time to see Jenosa materialize and fall on top of her. The worst that happened was Kat falling on her back and getting the wind knocked out of her, and as she was recovering, Jenosa rolled off with a groan, appearing nausious and holding her stomach with one hand as she sat up. "Ugh, did I just teleport?" |
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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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| ~Alissa~ | May 22 2012, 05:29 PM Post #23 |
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(( long post coming, could not help myself)) There was a strange sort of detached feeling for a moment, as if she had quite suddenly been wrapped in a warm blanket, all together not a bad feeling. All too soon though that came to an end, Alissa came back to her senses and found she felt a bit…off. Her eyes opened and she found herself looking through the tinted glass of her helmets face plate without the traditional heads up display. A small flashing icon in the corner of her field of view showed the only read out **emergency systems active, primary computer failure, starting secondary suit interface, restarting primary subsystems** Alissa tried to sit up and managed eventually but she felt weak, normally unassisted by the suit she would have no trouble moving the armor around, this however was not normal. The computer came back online and the suites mechanical assistance kicked in and she pushed herself to her feet. “Analysis of Achillies systems” There was a pause as the system carried out her command ***alert, link to primary computer temporarily lost, attempting to establish connection. Critical event! Primary systems were pushed offline by an unknown energy source, kinetic shields are off line, Nanoscale armor is offline, adaptive cloak is offline, secondary systems initializing*** This surprised Alissa, she was no engineer but she knew her suits shielding could withstand fairly intense Electromagnetic discharges, for that pulse to have knocked those systems offline it must have been quite powerful, Alissa took a step reaching out and placing her hand on a moss covered bulkhead to steady herself, her limbs still felt as though they had weights on them. ***critical failure!! Internal nano-systems at 10% of minimum safe operation, internal systems beginning reactivation, Operative to report to support vessel as soon as possible, this directive supersedes all orders*** Alissa caught herself a moment looking over her shoulder at the artifact before starting back towards the shuttle bay. “Attention all Bounty Hunters and Marines aboard the pirate’s ship: This is Captain Voree. I…don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly.” Alissa looked around at the others before making her way back to the shuttle, she was not going to argue the point, she needed to get to her own ship ***Blackbird calling operative 327*** “yes….go ahead” ***receiving telemetry from your suits secondary systems…are you injured?*** “no just...internal systems are below safe activity” ***I can see that, I am preparing a regeneration cycle for your return*** She winced at the thought of using the regeneration chamber, small spaces were not among her favorite places, and the device was little larger than a coffin. She settled in the ship slumped on the first available surface for sitting, feeling oddly exhausted, she would wait for the others. Whatever had happened her artificial systems had not fared well, she knew her ships computer was already working on a countermeasure. |
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| ~The Silver Fox~ | Jun 18 2012, 11:41 PM Post #24 |
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Just your friendly neighborhood Section 2 agent!
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The message hadn't been sent a moment too soon, as it was received by the hunter’s ship mere moments before the artifact emitted its radiation flare and all communications in the vicinity of the Claymore and the derelict pirate ship abruptly ceased. ----- Fire. Like someone had injected molten glass into her muscles. Raw energy vented into her body as the feedback from being forced back into phase with the ship by means of large-scale dimensional transition overloaded her cybernetics. Never before had this much pain coursed through her system at once. Even receiving the implants necessary for phasewalking hadn’t hurt this much. So, of course, there was only one possible action she could perform on waking up. ----- Kathi woke up to the sound of a scream of pain. Pulling herself into a sitting position on the gray, meaty, mossy...carpet, for lack of a better term, which had now apparently spread to the ship's superstructure...oh, that can't be a good thing... Another scream roused her to action, and she slowly rose and began walking towards the source. Said source happened to be one blonde-haired bounty hunter in a light combat harness on the other side of the bay. "How bad does it hurt?" Kathi asked Chel, kneeling beside the latter’s body as she writhed in agony. "Fuck..." was all the response she got before another tremor wracked the hunter’s body and she grunted in pain. "I'll take that as an eleven-out-of-ten on the pain scale, then," the brunette stated dryly as she cracked open her first-aid kit. "You want any morphine?" "Yes..." the hunter managed to grunt through clenched teeth, and immediately Kathi got to work. Years of giving herself twice-daily injections left her with a knack for finding veins, but given how much pain Chel was currently in, it'd be a miracle if she managed to hold still long enough for her to find a vein and inject the solution safely. Fortunately, she had a size advantage on the blonde, as well as the assistance of her mercenary grade power armor. Straddling the struggling woman’s chest, she managed to immobilize one arm just long enough for her to line up the hypodermic gun where she figured a vein would be beneath the thin skin of the hunter’s EVA gear and pull the trigger. Her experience with giving herself shots for all those years paid off (though not without a bit of luck helping her), as it only took one try to get it right. Within seconds, the smaller of the two women calmed down, the pain subsiding as morphine and other painkillers surged through her circulatory system and made it to her brain. With Chel subdued, Kathi could finally stand and take stock of the situation. Only five of the hunters had ended up boarding the ship: herself and Chel, Jenosa, the xeno, and that girl with the odd hair and eyes. Had to be artificial in some way, as albinism and other genetic disorders wouldn’t produce that sort of...colorlessness. Travis Clark had stayed on his ship, and she could hardly blame him for that, what with the particular collection of people and ships involved on this mission. That said, she did need to thank him for his contribution to improving her family’s situation. At any rate, Kathi was standing in the middle of the hold, Chel was on the floor in a slight daze from the fresh injection of heavy-duty painkillers, the xeno was getting to his – at least, she assumed it was a he – feet as well, and little-miss-colorless was heading back towards the hangar. There was no sign of either Jenosa or the Marines, a fact that disturbed the private contractor greatly. Not so much the Marines; since they had been ordered to secure the bridge, it would have been more worrying if she had seen them. The red-haired hunter's absence, however, was much more troubling, but maybe she’d just woken up earlier or something. A few minutes later, Chel was finally feeling good enough to start walking, and so they began to follow the path back to the hangar. They managed to get back to it without seeing Jenosa, and the headcount once they got there and met up with the Marines confirmed that she was still missing. "Jenosa, do you copy?" Kathi broadcast over her armor's radio. "Repeat, Jenosa, do you copy, over?" Nothing but static answered her. "Jenosa Arma, do you copy, over?" she repeated, anxiety edging into her voice. When there was still no answer, simple anxiety was replaced by desperation. "Where are you, dammit? I just found you again, you can't go disappearing on me now. You can't. Goddammit, Jenosa, please, respond!" Whump Kathi looked up in time to catch the fading glow of a flash of light and a blur of blue and red. The next moment, she was treated to a very important lesson: even wearing power armor, having a person fall onto you with little to no prior warning from a height of above six feet was not exactly a pleasant experience. The impact left her flat on her back and knocked the wind right out of her. Chel, still drugged by the painkillers, just giggled at the two currently sprawled out on the floor. Slowly, the red-haired hunter rolled off Kathi, a nauseated look on her face as she sat up, clutching at her stomach. "Ugh, did I just teleport?" Jenosa asked groggily. "Ow..." was the unfortunate contractor's only reply as she finally managed to get enough air back in her lungs to say anything. "Weeeeeeeeelllll," Chel began, her voice spacey from the medication. She stumbled a little bit on the meaty floor as she took a step forward before continuing. "Woah, floaty. I'm kinda high on morphine right now, but I don’t thiiiiink so. Not if you just went 'pop!' and appeared right now. Technically, anyways. If you woke up somewhere else, then you prooooobably teleplorted. Teleplorted? Teleported, sorry. That was the morphine talking there." "In my professional opinion..." Kathi groaned as she sat up, "...you landed on me. I don't know if you teleported or not, but please don't go off trying it to see if it'll work again. You had me worried that you'd disappeared for good." Any chance for further conversation was cut off by a radio transmission from the Claymore. "Attention all Bounty Hunters and Marines aboard the pirate’s ship: This is Captain Voree. I...don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly." Chel furrowed her brow in confusion. "More pirates?" Kathi shook her head. "If it was, she wouldn't have asked us to come back slowly. It has to be something else, probably an alien patrol, if I were to guess." The blonde was first onto the ship, and she made a beeline for the spare quarters she had occupied on the way in. The contractor, on the other hand, stayed outside for a few more moments to check on the Marines. "This is High Executor Selendis," a voice suddenly boomed from within Kathi's head, echoing inside her skull and ringing in her ears. "Your transgression is a heresy. Dock your ships and prepare to be boarded, or taste the purifying flame of our warships." She didn’t notice her own actions, but one hand clutched at her forehead and she froze up as the voice, commanding and alien, made its announcement. No. No. This wasn't happening. She could not be hearing voices in her head. Not again. Not now. Her armor's chronometer was hardened; she knew she'd had her regular dose of medication. This couldn't...be... A small detail clicked in her head. "Playback most recent inbound radio transmission," she whispered, her lips trembling as she spoke. She had to be right about this. If she wasn't...she didn't even want to think about what that might mean. "This is High Exec-" She cut the message off before it could go any further. Relief flooded through her body as she realized she wasn't going crazy again. Unfortunately, that only lasted until her mind caught up and parsed the words that had been announced. So that's why Voree wants us to return to the ship, was the first thing that ran through her mind. The second thing was much simpler. "Oh. Fuck." She'd find herself repeating that thought as she flew the ship back and got her first good look at the alien fleet. ----- |
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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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| +CEMP+ | Jun 24 2012, 07:39 PM Post #25 |
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Clockwork Master
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Ghelm Kakolan groaned audible in pain as he became conscious. It felt like he had been struck on the head with a neosteel bat and somehow lived to tell the tale, only to get flattened on the floor and kicked all over for doing so. He rubbed his temple as he managed to sit up groggily on the cold, metal floor, and felt a bloodied, crusted lump on; it throbbed dull in pain. Ow! Chances were, he was going to have a concussion from had whatever happened. He blinked. What did happen!? he thought in confusion. He vaguely recognized that he was in the cargo hold - rather close to the docking section - of the transport ship that he was working for, and could only recall that he was...doing maintenance work until...some kind of commotion happened that brought him running here. After that, everything was just fuzzy. That, and his head just ached in general. Thus the first thing action that came to his mind was to find the med kit they had on board and see if there was any painkillers. Standing up, the side of his body aching, he began to make his way to the other side, but just as he moved about halfway, he spotted a hand lying on the ground amongst the cargo crates. Blinking, he suddenly became alert, running over to see who it was, only to back away in revile; Benson Vergon, one of his shipmates, lay in the ground a with an unmistakable bullet whole in his head, blood spilled all over. Next to him Janson Tenach, his head lopsided and turned at an angle completely beyond his neck's capacity; he work a vacant, mildly surprised expression while Benson held more horror and shock. Ghelm covered his mouth as he gagged, and his head throbbed as images flashed through his mind. Commotion, screaming, and the images of someone killing of his shipmates flickered about with a horror filling him; and yet he could still not recall the exact details. Only that they had been attacked and he had come about when he heard it. Seeing them dead made him so sick in the stomach that he threw up; granted, there had been no one here that he personally like or even came close to considering a friend, since he was new, but still, he was not prepared to see a dead corpse in his line of work. Especially a murdered one. But that begged the questions as he recovered and tried not to look at them: Who did, and more importantly why? And why was he still alive of all things? He honestly couldn't fit the pieces together, not now with his headache escalating, and the demand for painkillers was overwhelming. A part of him did it's best to keep him cautious, but in all honesty it got thrown out the window as he began to make his way to where the medical station was. he scrambled forth when he saw the kit open and sprawled on the floor, but was relieved to find the anesthetic hypo spray intact and filled. It didn't take him long to administer despite the pain, and more so for the wonderful drug to kick in. His headache level to but a small throb, and he could finally think clearly without pain. It still didn't help him answer his questions though, or recall anymore details. Or where the ship might be for that matter. He sighed. Although a bit high, he was afraid and unsure of what to do, but as the minutes passed with deathly silence, he figured the only thing he could do was make his way the cockpit and see if there were any clues there, or any where at that matter. As he made his way, his head began to clear; in fact, just as he came to the door into the cockpit, his mind had become almost crystal clear, and oddly, there was something about that bothered him, but he couldn't put a finger on why. What he could put a finger on was the form of the only person laying within the pilot seat being that of his attacker. Fear became mixed curiosity as he wondered why he hadn't reacted to his presence; even with his back turned, he should have at least heard his footsteps. He found himself walking towards him cautiously, the attack playing second by second more clearly as he did...until, when he still didn't react, he flipped the seat around. Only it wasn't a he, it was a she. He stared in rapt fascination; although her face was covered by combat gear and goggles, her lithe form - wearing some kind of body armor very different from that of the standard marine's - was clearly female. for a split second, he thought she was somehow dead, but he quickly noticed she was breathing. Now he was really baffled and wondered just what the hell was going. The last he could truly recall her gun whipping around, pointing directly at him, and firing...only to somehow miss. He could remember himself petrified with fear when that happened, and then finally her whipping around with the butt of the gun and him blacking out. That was the last of it, and he honestly wasn't sure what to make of it all. He was contemplating this entire enigma when he heard the comm link come to life with static. The ship was picking up an active signal, and Ghelm was quick to adjust the system to completely match the signal just in time to hear a female voice: "-tain Voree. I…don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly." It was clear to him that the message wasn't being directed at him, and it only served to add to his confusion; until the other message from a familiar alien race, and realized what was happening all around the ship he was on. ------------------------- Breifly after Voree had established communications with the team, they got an unexpected call from a small ship that had been floating near the Claymore. The voice was kindly asking in panicked voice if he could dock with their ship. (OOC: I'll get to Jenosa's bit at another time and moment. Wanted to get this out first ;)) Edited by CEMP, Jun 24 2012, 07:54 PM.
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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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| +CEMP+ | Jul 16 2012, 10:23 PM Post #26 |
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Clockwork Master
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Jenosa's nausea passed quickly, but it still packed a punch. Bile had actually risen part way up her throat before she forced it back, and even the most troublesome teleportation she had been through had been that bad. No matter the various amounts of time she had done it, her body just never got used to the sensation of being literally snapping back to it's form like a rubber band, with her inside jumping up and down in the process as though having been through a high speed roller coaster ride. "Ow..." She looked in the direction of the familiar voice with a bemused expression, and saw Kathi not to far from her, realizing she had been the unfortunate victim of her fall. And the irony of the situation was that, though not by much, Kathi was actually taller than her. "Weeeeeeeeelllll," she heard Chel began, the red head raising a baffled eye brow at just how spacey her voice was, as though she was high. She stumbled a little bit on the meaty floor as she took a step forward before continuing. Yup, definitely high on something, Jenosa confirmed; the baffling question was why. It almost looked as though Jenosa had been gone a while. "Woah, floaty. I'm kinda high on morphine right now, but I don’t thiiiiink so. Not if you just went 'pop!' and appeared right now. Technically, anyways. If you woke up somewhere else, then you prooooobably teleplorted. Teleplorted? Teleported, sorry. That was the morphine talking there." "Errrr," was her only response, unsure about trusting Chel's viewpoint in her current state. "In my professional opinion..." Kathi added with a groan as she sat up, "...you landed on me. I don't know if you teleported or not, but please don't go off trying it to see if it'll work again. You had me worried that you'd disappeared for good." "Sorry about that," Jenosa apologized, rising up and putting out a hand, "I didn't mean to scare you by...vanishing. Trust me, doing something like that is the last thing I want to- Before they had any other chance to converse, or even ask about what had actually happened, her comm, like everyone else, crackled to life with an unexpected message. "Attention all Bounty Hunters and Marines aboard the pirate’s ship: This is Captain Voree. I...don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly." Now Jenosa was officially confused, but more over, concerned. She got blasted by some weird artifact into some quaint limbo, only to find herself teleporting on top of her unofficial protegee. And now a captain whom she considered a good friend was ordering them back to the Claymore without an explanation. It didn't sit right with her, and as she neared her ship along with Kathi, she found out why: "This is High Executor Selendis," a voice suddenly boomed within her head, the echo raising her hairs on end. "Your transgression is a heresy. Dock your ships and prepare to be boarded, or taste the purifying flame of our warships." Jenosa wondered if she was now imagining things now, but yet that alien instinct told it was...real somehow. That the voice had actually echoed from an outside source, and it remained an occasional, unpleasant reminder of who she was, she had learned to trust it. And she it didn't take long to confirm that it was right; a quick glance at the others told her they had heard it too. She also now recalled hearing it from her comm unit as well as inside her head. Well, at least that answer one riddle, she thought as she got onto her own ship, only glancing back to see that Kathi was holding up fine. It was only once she left the hanger she swore out loud, her heart now beating with anxiety and her hairs raising on the back of her neck higher as she saw the fleet. "Great," she out loud to herself, "the answer just became more riddles. Alien, golden, nasty riddles." |
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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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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Jul 24 2012, 12:02 PM Post #27 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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One moment, Travis was preparing to disembark upon the Arctic Storm to act as the rear guard for all the other hunters (more for the benefit of the Claymore's crew then himself), there had been what seemed like an explosion. The next, however, Travis felt what was probably the most disorienting thing he had ever experienced. In a matter most peculiar, the Thunderwolf seemed to groan and warp under the power of something he had never seen. From his position in the cockpit, Travis immediately retreated into the bowels of the ship, but soon found the the phenomena had somehow permeated the walls and surrounded him; he was in trouble! Eventually, after realizing he was trapped, the hunter was overwhelmed and began to feel as though he were being stretched, broken down, and built up at the same time. Reality around him spinned as various lights went past. He had just been planning to join the other hunters behind him onto the other ship when -this- happened...!? What was going on...? And slowly, just as quickly as it came, the warping of reality subsided, and Travis had to stop a heavy crate that had, for no explanation whatsoever, appeared as he fell in midair, shoving it out of the way to keep it from falling on him. The moment he had risen to catch his breath, he checked out his... aggressor, he looked it over and immediately his eyebrows rose behind the visor. He had never seen a crate like that before anywhere in the Federation... nothing he knew of was made with that kind of material, and those markings... what in...? What really threw him for a loop was a sticker attached on the back. It bore the image of bearded old man petting two wolves, printed over upon by superimposed writing: "Long live Mengsk!" Mengsk...? Who on earth was Mengsk...? That was when it quickly dawned on Travis that similar accidents had likely happened to others. He sprinted back into the cockpit, listening for the comms... "Attention all Bounty Hunters and Marines aboard the pirate’s ship: This is Captain Voree. I...don’t really know what happened, but you’re immediately ordered to return to the Claymore. Slowly." It seemed that the Claymore had ridden out that freak event just fine, but what about the others...? "This is Bounty Hunter Deadeye Clark, can anyone re-" What he heard next was so unnatural it immediately put him on guard. "This is High Executor Selendis. Your transgression is a heresy. Dock your ships and prepare to be boarded, or taste the purifying flame of our warships." What in God's universe...? Travis spun around, tuning radio frequencies on a seperate com unit. No, that hadn't come from the radio... what was- His answer was soon made apparent as he turned the Thunderwolf to follow in escort pattern with the Claymore. Huge vessels that appeared to be made from gold and crystal with a jeweler's touch floated not too far in the distance. And from their scale, they were closing, fast. Those were not just any gunships or frigates out on patrol... those were capital ships. And they were flanked by many more vessels, he could tell, because Constantine had already taken the liberty of starting up the radar. It was an entire fleet; who it belonged to was another question. "Everyone... I think we should do what they say for now." He said to the point, matter-of-factly over the radio. "Those are capital ships approaching us; as a matter of fact, it's an entire fleet of starships." ["Travis... I'm surprised, you usually wouldn't comply with such demands..."] Constantine had chimed in, appearing as a full-scale hologram as his old mystic form. He was to the point and observant, as always. "Well... I normally wouldn't if I knew what kind of fleet was heading toward us, but here's the thing; neither of us have seen ships like that before; ever. If that voice was any indicator, then they probably already have both the firepower to combat us and a lock on all of our vessels. Let's not test them." |
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| +CEMP+ | Jul 29 2012, 08:26 PM Post #28 |
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Clockwork Master
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Despite her being a professional, Jenosa couldn't help but role her eyes when hearing Travis's piece of advice. "Thanks for stating the obvious, Travis," she said, in a mixture sarcasm and good humor over the same comm he used; meaning that others like Kathi and Alissa, if she was listening, would hear. After that, silenced fell between everyone as they gradually returned to the Claymore under these unusually...tense circumstances. The seconds became unnerving to Jeonsa as the moments of the recent past events turned about in her mind. Questions fluttered about for a moment: Why? How? What? Ugh, she thought with a shake of her head. The thought of all this was starting to bring back old memories. Bad memories. Instead, she decided to take her mind of things by having a...private chat. She opened an isolated, two-way comm link between her and Kathi. The sympathized with the woman simply because of the fact that she reminded Jenosa of herself, and she knew there was still some catching up to do. The vid screen of an exasperated Kathi popped up, and Jenosa waved with a smile that was underlined with the tension everyone else shared. "Heya. Thought we'd...pass the time with a more - private chat, however short this is." She paused, then remarked, "Have to so say, this is a crazy situation we're in; probably crazier than some of the stuff I've been through, and trust me, what I've been through is nothing to sneeze at." |
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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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| ~Jedi~ | Jul 30 2012, 03:56 PM Post #29 |
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One with the Force and Blade
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[Just a slight bit of GM'ing, to assume everyone gets into their various shuttlecraft without any incident. Also, this is merely part-1 of the post. I have a follow-up ready to go, I just want to see people's reactions to the ending here.] The trip back towards the Claymore was short, only a few hundred kilometers, but it was eerily silent. Aside from whatever transmissions were being sent between themselves on private channels, there was no background chatter to fall back upon. None of the status updates from the Claymore, little to know inter-ship AI communication...nothing. The small squadron of Bounty Hunter ships would join the Liberator-class transport ship that transported the marines in, slowly drifting away from the pirate's ship. They would be able to see the outer hull had decayed rapidly since they'd last gone in, various hole breaches puncturing the sides that nonetheless maintained a thin atmosphere inside the ship. Part of it, likely, was the grey, mossy substance, it appearing to have no problem growing in vacuum as it was apparently covering over half the ship now, strange, pulsing tumors growing around the outside. "I've seen this movie before," one of the marines said on their short-range comm, the cluster of ships passing the shadow of the damaged pirate ship, only to better glimpse their new contacts. A large, golden ship, easily double the size of the Claymore, hovered 'above,' them, between the pirate's ship and the heavy cruiser. Running lights of aquamarine pulsed up and down the ship's curves, and strange geometric wings arced from both port and starboard that looped from the top to the bottom of the bow in a strangely beautiful display. The bridge seemed to shine brightly against the backdrop of black space, the golden body of the ship impeccably smooth and strangely organic in it's metalwork. It was an impressive sight to behold, indeed, and the ship would have dominated the starline itself, had there not been three of them. A second capitol ship had placed itself so that the pirate's frigate was between the hunters and it, while a third floated off in the distance, as if passively studying. There were many other ships floating in the space around them, however. Strange, butterfly-like fightercraft floated silently in space alongside the group, the lead two facing the same heading while the remainder flied effortlessly 'sideways,' their bow facing the hunter group. While the properties of momentum would allow any of their ships to pull of similar maneuvers, a ship typically flew fastest in the direction their engines were pushing against; these ships seemed to have no difficulty flying at top speed in various other directions, without any more apparent external engines. Beyond, several groups of more typically-shaped, larger fightercraft flew patrols around the pirates' frigate. Clusters of small drones flew in groups of dozens between ships, moving with machine precision. Lastly, several frigate-sized ships floated around the primary capital ship, a strange design with several apparently free-floating pieces, all surrounding an enormous, brightly-glowing crystal. Several of these frigates surrounded the pirate's cruiser and, after a moment, a brilliantly bright beam of light shot out from each, cutting effortlessly into the hull of the derelict ship. ================================== Upon arriving to the Claymore, the ships would find the hangar noticeably more crowded than when they left. Several robotic drones hung suspended off of the ground, butterfly-like wings spinning around a central hub. They would exit their ships, only to be immediately surrounded and demanded to disembark without weapons or haste. Tall, blue-skinned beings dressed in similarly-gold powered armor stood outside each of their landing ramps, easily 10 feet tall each. They had bony heads and a ponytail of strange, dreadlock-like hair cascading past their shoulders. Each had no mouth to truly speak of, and their eyes glowed with an unnatural, energetic power. Their knees bent backwards in an almost equine fashion, ending in armor-covered hooves, of a sort. Each hunter would be escorted to the middle of the landing bay, surrounded by these warriors and several strange robotic beings. Several flat, golden drones were interspersed between the warriors, each disk floating around a nexus of energy the size of a large beach ball. Towering over the both were grey-metaled mechanical striders, a three-legged tripod that seemed to center around...a head, melded in with the robotic body. Nobody looked very happy to see them. A single warrior stepped forward, 'voice,' echoing among them between their ears. "You are to remove your helmets, slowly," it said, though it was most likely a 'he,' given the baritone nature of the thoughts that were implanted into their heads. As they did so, the warrior almost seemed to take a look of disgust, turning back to his comrades for a moment. A single energy blade activated on his left gauntlet, tapering into a sharp point that wavered with green power. "Terran females," he 'said,' the voice nearly spitting in disgust, his eyes particularly digging towards those among the group who were women. "The High Templar is speaking with your...leader," he said, voice still dripping with contempt. "But maybe you can allude my brothers and I." He stepped forward with a thunderous hoof-stomp, grabbing the nearest hunter -- in this case, Kathi -- by the armor around her neck, seeming to effortlessly hoist her up off the ground without much strain, despite her own armor. "WHO ARE YOU," he demanded, forcibly to Kathi but the question was directed to all. His energy-bladed wrist remained at his side, making no move to spear the hunter, but his stature seemed to exert pure authority. "You Terrans believe you can take what you wish, wherever you wish. What makes you so entitled, hm?" Edited by Jedi, Jul 30 2012, 03:59 PM.
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Jul 30 2012, 06:30 PM Post #30 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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Not good... what were they planning to do with all of them...? Travis exuded a fierce but compliant presence as this strange species of humanoids walked them though the ship. He growled with slight annoyance as he noticed a strange, latticed craft hovering over the Thunderwolf, which he had been escorted from onto the main ship. It looked as though they were being... corralled. Why, he didn't know... and that made him slightly wary of complying. But from the looks of it... an entire fleet of this mystery species was here. Who were they? What did they want? He had never seen anything like them short of the legs, to be honest; digit-grade legs... only a few people he knew had those. They also had what appeared to be... tentacles growing from behind their scalps, and blue-white skin, with matching, glowing eyes. What was interesting to note, however, was they had no faces; meaning no mouth, nothing of the sort. And yet, they were still speaking in perfect English somehow. Travis looked around, listening to the reverberating tones... not a single being moved their mouth every time they "spoke". Was this some kind of telepathy...? He knew there were races in the galaxy capable of such a feat, but to actually experience it was incredible.... or would be, if these strangers didn't have all these mysterious weapons and mechanoids with them. He had never seen such constructs anyway, especially the quad-legged walkers; the crystals and "face cloth" seemed to be awfully excessive embellishments for just a walker. As they were all rounded up, Travis exchanged looks with all of the other hunters, and then exhaled; first came the command to disarm... one he was not surprised to have come about. Then, there came the command to remove their helmets, assuming they had donned any. (Oh boy...) He thought to himself, complying if just to show he wasn't looking for trouble. These aliens definitely looked tough, but if worse came to worse, he could probably go toe-to-toe... he'd just have to watch for those vicious energy blades. This was assuming, of course, that these were not rational aliens. And why the sudden contempt for the ladies...? Travis found that... odd, considering he had heard what he was almost positive was a female voice earlier. So why did they seem to have eyes like daggers toward them...? That seemed, odd, but low-priority. Perhaps they were merely fools who somehow believed women were completely weaker then men by nature of their being, but no matter; low priority matter for Travis right now. What really set him on edge, however, was when they looked to expunge information from all of them; Travis figured as much; this was essential to interrogation and gathering information... but only from potentially hostile elements; it was obvious enough that these strange beings did not trust the hunters or the Claymore's crew at all. And this was further stressed when in a show of anger, one of then grabbed Kathi Bito by her neck. This did two things: immediately, Travis' brows knitted into a slant and his eyes slitted in anger. Well, actually, three; he remembered a promise he had made to her brother. ("Keep her safe if things get hairy"....) He wasn't about to let Matthew down. "PUT HER DOWN...!" He said with sudden thunder to get the attention of the aggressive being, his tone immediately softening afterwards, if only in its booming force. "She isn't the one you should take your anger out on, 'big man'; I am. If you want to talk, then -I'm- the one you will speak to, if you don't mind." "I would ask you the same question... who are you all... what are you all... and why are you going through the trouble of bringing an entire fleet of star ships to pin down a small cruiser and a band of bounty hunters from the Galactic Federation? Excessive, don't you think...? "But... let me introduce myself. I'm Travis Clark, bounty hunter. We were simply here for a job... and that's all I am telling you until you calm down and leave the ladies be. Surely, you didn't come here to beat up on human females, right...? If you want information, then you don't have to throw them around." Travis' eyes at this point held a fixated gaze, half balanced anger, half of something else that the other "Male" likely knew well if his garb was any indication. True, Travis was a "Terran", as he had called them but perhaps, just perhaps, the mysterious visitors saw something not unfamiliar in this human man's eyes; the resolve of an experienced warrior, neither overbearing nor lacking in courage. Travis was careful to regulate his posture and body-language, having removed the wrist-cannon upon request. He wanted to come across merely as sincere but irritated, not threatening and ready to pounce. |
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2:56 PM Jul 11