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| Eclipse | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: Jun 8 2016, 07:56 PM (1,768 Views) | |
| ~Alissa~ | Jun 13 2016, 08:42 PM Post #11 |
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Wheels glided along the New York City sidewalk with a gentle click clack as they passed over the joints between the concrete sections. The wheels were attacked to a long board, which glided over the sidewalk on this NYC sunny day, there was art on the bottom depicting some fairly complicated math, the top supported a young looking woman, blue and white flat-bottomed skate shoes, comfortable blue jeans which bore not a sign of meeting the concrete from speed atop the skateboard, a red t-shirt with black block lettering which read now the front of it Science Is the new Rock ‘n’ Roll A grey and black messenger back was slung across the young woman’s back as she skillfully wove her way between pedestrians, shop stands, bicyclists, pets, and the other obstacles the city had to offer. Hannah Powel took in the sights with new eyes, well new implants; the latest in a long line of upgrades since her recovery from the illness that had left her blinded and wheel chair bound over a decade ago. The skateboard had been her favorite form of physical therapy after she had regained her feet, it had brought her close if not all the way back to her original sense of balance and strength. She’d had her blond hair cut to just below her ears, all the cloths and mode of transport, and her general youthful appearance it was difficult to place Hannah Powell’s age, she was either just into her twenties or thirties. She pulled a large set of over the hear headphones and pushed them into the grey and black messenger bag she’d slung over one shoulder before bending down to pick up the board and hopping the few steps up to the door of the building, her finger hovered a moment over the name “Vega” before she paused and really looked at the list of names a moment. A grin spread across her features as she found another name some floors lower than her intended visit, settling on an Agnes. She pressed the buzzer and waited a moment before a positively ancient if kindly voice answered on the other end. “Yes?...” Hannah grinned having hit pay dirt, she put on her best city mouse in the big city voice and dove in with both feet. “Hi….I’m moving into 3C…” there was no name next to 3C on the list “and I left my key in the apartment, I tried calling the super but he won’t pick up…” she said trying to sound just desperate enough “I know I’m not supposed to ask but…..” there was a loud buzz as Hannah hadn’t even made it through her whole story. “Thank you soooooo much….” “Your welcome dear….welcome to the building” Hannah honestly almost felt bad, but her mind was already shifting to surprising Grace and Lizzie. She walked over to the elevator and pushed the button and waited…..and waited a bit longer. She sighed pressing the button again before she saw that the light was indeed not lighting, she let out an exasperated sigh casting her eyes skyward. “This is for taking advantage of little old ladies isn’t it?” before she turned and started up the stairs. Sometime later a much less energetic Hannah reached her intended floor, she was a universe better than she had been when she first met grace, but some things still sapped her energy, and those stairs had just made the list. A folding cane had been retrieved from her bag which she leaned heavily on as she approached the door and raised the cane knocking. |
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| ~Deadly Aim~ | Jun 14 2016, 12:07 AM Post #12 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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[DISENGAGING FTL DRIVE. WELCOME TO DESTINATION: OUTPOST WORLD K-79B.] The stasis field disengaged from over Yuujaaf's body and he slowly began to blink away the bleary blog of his view of the gunship's interior. From what he could gather, the flight had gone smoothly; Saurmaa's Voice wasn't exhibiting any cracks either in the cockpit or along the hull, and his ears slowly came into focus he couldn't hear the sounds of an air leak; always a comforting sign when emerging from a stasis nap aboard a space vessel. [BE ADVISED: UNKNOWN SINGLE SPACECRAFT DETECTED AT 145-DEGREE ANGLE RELATIVE TO SURFACE OF K-79B.] The sudden revelation of a single spacecraft being present at an outpost world, however, was not a comforting thing to awaken to. Yuujaaf shook the disorientation from himself from tail to snout, gritting his teeth and shaking himself to wakefulness. Meeya gan wa... I am hoping that this is not a vessel belonging to the shellheaded ones. I still have nightmares from that time. Having shaken himself awake and pulled an image of the distant unidentified vessel floating above the planet in the distance. Now that he looked at the world, however, Yuujaaf then noticed that something about it seemed... off. He couldn't quite put his claw on it, but for whatever reason, his instincts told him that all was not well below. But, for right now, Yuujaaf had more pressing matters. Ambling over to the back, he climbed into an area within the cabin that seemed like a sealing chamber of sorts, the doors shutting upon him. When he emerged moments later, he was clad in his custom Ghostviper Mk. IV power armor baring both the mark of Sumuus Saurmaa and the insignia of the Crosshairs Hunter Company upon both arms. For right now, however, he would leave the muuduuvaats on-board and off of the ship, unattached from the armor. As he had known from personal experience, Yuuj knew that Hyacertans were an unusual people for both their relative "new factor" and their reptilian attributes; there would be no purpose in being over-prepared, save for the possibility that he might find himself suddenly stuck in a vacuum temporarily... though the reason for such had yet to be decided. Yuujaaf looked out through the cockpit and found that he had lost his sight on the distant vessel, his orbit around the planet carrying him out from beyond visual connection it. ------------- An open transmission signal rang out into space toward the vessels all around the desolate planet. From the way it was being broadcast, it was clear that the one originating the transmission was doing so quite blindly. Perhaps he was casting a sort of drag net to see if he felt movement along the fine screen? What was noteworthy, was the bizarre way in which the transmission originator's voice carried: ["HelloooOOOooo... are any of you of the friends? I come in many peaces. I wish to examine dirt and take pictures. Can any hear my voice?"] |
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| ~Alkarii~ | Jun 14 2016, 03:26 AM Post #13 |
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Soul Eater
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Through the sensors in the command hub, Gauro watched the unknown ship's response. Almost immediately, he received a link from the captain. <Any insights?> There was a feeling of expectance behind the thought. She knew he'd have been watching; Vokrayans didn't bother with things like clearance, and the captain was a captain only because it was less confusing to the foreigners and aliens on the ship. <Morse Code. An old form of communication used by humans. Unless things are completely different here, that translates to 'reading'. Pulled that from the Central Archive, a detmak after that little incident at Vuroa.> He felt a flicker of amusement from the captain at his reference to the accidental first contact with humans. <What do you think they mean by 'reading?'> <From what I know of human communications protocol, it means the message is being received.> The thought was sent with a little uncertainty, then he sent a link to others on the bridge. <Could the spatial distortions be affecting the transmission?> <Possible,> the comm officer sent. <A relay drone should cut through the interference enough to open a channel. I'd recommend dropping the stealth field, so they know where to point their receivers, if that's an issue with their hardware.> "Lower the stealth field, and launch a relay drone," the captain ordered. The vocal order was more for the recording equipment in the command hub; thoughts sent via links could not be recorded except as memories. "Stealth field deactivated, captain." The vessel seemed to reappear in space. Gauro, still in the observation lounge, wondered what the crew of the other ship would think of the design of the Vokrayan ship. As aerodynamics weren't an issue in the hard vacuum of space, the ship hadn't been designed to look like an aircraft. It had a geometric crystalline look, almost like a fractal pattern in three dimensions. Vokrayans may have been practical, but they never skimped on aesthetics, either. Combining elegant form with reliable function was a science unto itself. "Drone away," the communications officer announced. The main display tracked its progress to a point roughly halfway between the two ships. "Drone in position, channels open. Translator set to Terran English. Whenever you're ready, ma'am." The captain nodded, then used her cerebral implant to activate her comm. "This is Captain Zevyil Ahtazem of the Vokrayan Collective Transreality ship Zhokavven. We are here on a scientific mission of exploration." She sent a mental signal to cut her link, allowing time for a response. Hopefully, they weren't having issues with their communications systems. It was about this time that a second ship appeared on the display. "Unknown ship in the vicinity, unknown drive profile. No signs of hostility." The tactical officer announced. The ship didn't look big enough to be of concern, though Vokrayan ships had been known to make short work of less advanced vessels that were several times their own size. Shortly after that, the strange message came through. "Okay... Now what?" Ahtazem asked herself quietly. Edited by Alkarii, Jun 16 2016, 12:01 AM.
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| Since my liver is larger than my heart, does that mean I'm designed to drink more and care less? | |
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| +Aiko+ | Jun 14 2016, 06:43 PM Post #14 |
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Roffel House!
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"According to this star system's communications buoy," began the science officer quietly, "we are approximately five hundred years prior to our previous position in the timeline. Until we have scanners online, we have no further information" "Bridge, this is Engineering," a voice gravelly called over the intercom. "Scanners are coming online now." "Telar," Commander Artam ordered, pointing his right two fingers at the pointed eared humanoid, "download the Chancellor's scanner logs and compare them to what we're reading now." With a quick nod, he immediately faced off with his console and went to work. "Scans are reading two vessels on approach," Yellowjacket announced. Ryan turned and briskly walked over to her station. "One at twelve thousand kilometers holding position at twenty-two degrees port, minus fifteen degrees inclination of unknown configuration and a significant contingent of life signs. "The second is a small attack vessel, one life sign, weapons disengaged. Sixty-six degrees to port, seven degrees inclination. Currently working on tactical solutions." "Third vessel on fast approach," Ensign Angerona announced from the helm. "Long range scans indicate two star systems within jump distance. Warp five will take us out of this system in three minutes, twenty-two seconds." "Mortis," Ryan called on the intercom. "This is the captain. I need you to go to the cargo bay where the Chancellor's shuttle is docked and take samples off of the hull." "Acknowledged, Captain," came a metallic raspy voice in reply. "Chancellor, perhaps you should," both the Commander and Captain began in unison, but paused to look at each other. "After you," Ryan smiled with a wave gesture. "By all means, Captain," Orpo stated with a bow of his head. Aiko's lips flattened and her eyelids partially closed. "Do you really think I, of all people, need to be told?" she snorted in amused annoyance, but then tapped a finger on her chin in uneasy thought. "This isn't good though, for a number of reasons. One, I don't remember this planet being dead. Secondly, there are two of you running around out there, Ryan. Hiding you is going to be a lot harder." "We can only work with what we got," the captain replied with a shrug and dropping his hands to his sides with a light slap against his legs. "Who're you gonna be?" Aiko smirked. "Chancellor Cheryl, of course." "Cheryl?" He pocketed his hands and scrunched his nose. "Where's that name from?" "She was your former first officer?" Aiko raised an eyebrow. When the lights of recognition still didn't go on in Ryan's eyes, rolled her own. "Black hair, brown eyes, lanky, only a few centimeters shorter than you. Tried to asphyxiate me in an airlock, that Cheryl?" Ryan stared blankly at Aiko for a few moments as he slowly nodded. He knew that name sounded familiar, and he felt as though what Aiko was describing really did happen, but it was so long ago. Then, the lights finally came on in his memory. "Aw, you really do care about me," he said through a softened smile. "You're only going to look like the gal that tried to kill me, too." "Kill you? She never got the chance to move on you. I intercepted her by dying first. You're welcome," Aiko sniffed in disdain. "But anyway, yes, that Cheryl." She looked around the bridge and her eyes fell on a pointy eared humanoid. "Hey Telar, your significant other tailors stuff, right? I'm going to need a new uniform." Telar simply nodded as he continued working at his station. "I am certain he could have one replicated for you." "Counsellor," the captain addressed. "What are you gathering about all this? Do you think we are in any danger?" Tex shook her head back and forth, her black mane stiffly matching the movement. Her claws clacked slightly as she wove her fingers together at her waist and stretched, which only accentuated the feminine but impressive musculature of her upper arms. "No," she answered simply. "Alright then," he replied after clearing his throat and quickly turning his attention back to the bridge. "People," he addressed. "We have a mystery, and evidently it's attracting a lot of attention. This place used to be inhabited, and now it's nothing but a giant red rock. I want every scrap of data we can get." Aiko turned around. "I'll see you all later. Be nice to Chancellor Cheryl. She can be a real bitch and lock you in an airlock to die otherwise," Aiko joked, then excused herself from the bridge for a new set of attire. |
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| +transcon+ | Jun 14 2016, 07:41 PM Post #15 |
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Metroid Specialist
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((Yay for hometime.)) The bridge of the Yukon was bustling with activity. Scanners were working overtime pulling in every bit of data they can scrounge. Aiko's scanner logs from her shuttle were downloaded into the ship's computer to be analyzed and cross-referenced with the new incoming data. Ryan was deeply concerned about the state of the planet. According to old star charts, this was a planet brimming with life colonized a long time ago and was part of an open trade route. Now, it was completely barren, and even the star looked like it had degraded. Stars just simply do not deteriorate that rapidly. Then there were three ships. Two were in the system, one was going to be appearing any minute. His experience told him that news was going to spread quickly, and governments were going to dispatch investigators to figure out how five and a half billion people vanish, and their solar system can be afflicted. "Sir," reported the comms officer. "Incoming transmission from the smaller gunship. Audio only." Ryan rolled his wrist with index finger extended as an indication to let it sound off. ///"HelloooOOOooo... are any of you of the friends? I come in many peaces. I wish to examine dirt and take pictures. Can any hear my voice?"/// "Sounds like an open broadcast," Orpo commented. "Another transmission," continued the comms officer, "being relayed by a communications relay probe launched by the larger vessel." Without indication, it was also sounded. ///"This is Captain Zevyil Ahtazem of the Vokrayan Collective Transreality ship Zhokavven. We are here on a scientific mission of exploration."/// "A science vessel, eh?" Yellowjacket commented. She tapped a few more indicators on her tactical console. "The vessel's configuration does seem to accommodate the description, Captain." "We are reading chronoton particles on their hull," added Telar, "which would also indicate that they did time travel." "A time travelling science vessel," Ryan mused. "A historian's dream. Let's try to respond on broadcast. We don't want to appear any more suspicious." A chime sounded that indicated a transmission channel was open and sending. "Approaching vessels," he called from the center of the bridge. "This is the star cruiser, Yukon. How can we be of assistance?" |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Jun 14 2016, 09:16 PM Post #16 |
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Starfeather
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Even as his ship's Artificial Intelligence worked with the new course, plotting a new set of jump vectors towards the location, the Chozo warrior focused on the long range scans. His ship had, more or less, been repaired and retro-fitted so many times that the avian could hardly believe the mish-mash of parts could actually function together. He made a mental note to express his gratitude towards the other Queens that rendered assistance in keeping his vessel flying; all three of them were remarkable in their own ways, even if the Banished warrior had a hard time expressing such things. He could only seem to properly show his appreciation and affection with gifts--knick-knacks, really--since he wasn't much for conversation. Tisiphone was, in all honesty, one of the few he could truly be open with, but in her was a kindred spirit to his own. Still... it had been at least a few years since he had paid a visit to the other two... He shook his head to put away the thought. When did he get so sentimental? Another bad habit he had picked up from Travis Clark and Jenosa Arma. Their presence and friendship with him in the past were rubbing off on him. He squinted down at the scanner reading again, looking over the two--no, three--vessels that had arrived in orbit of the target planet. Two of them were showing up as unknown types, the third, and smallest, registered as a personal transport craft. The contents of the first, however--the computer barely able to make out the registration of the Yukon--had more unknowns attached to it than he would have liked. The second had recently dropped from stealth, also regostering as an unknown type. Two unknown ships, and a random passerby, had coincidentally arrived at a planet that, for all intents and purposes, should have been thriving with life. Z'Gato checked the logs again, just as his ship arrived at the target system, his body unceremoniously swaying forward from the change in speed, barely keeping his helmet from ramming into the display. A curse in Chozo slipped past his temper as he looked back towards the AI, which was swift to apologize for the inconvenience. He looked back over towards the scanner logs then out the viewport of his ship, taking in the scene just as the Yukon began its open transmission. The radio crackled to life for a moment, as if fighting against the natural interference of the system, befoe the voice of the Captain--or so the Avian Warrior assumed--cut through the disturbance. "This is Z'Gato of the Chozo," he said, cutting himself off when he realized he had never taken the time to name his ship. A concept like that seemed just as ludicrous as naming a pair of boots, but it seemed proper given the situation all the same. He shook his head before speaking up again, his English thick with his avian accent. "I have come to this system to investigate the planet's anomoly. This world should be populated, not a dirt-ball," he said, most senses of propriety and protocol lost on him. He hardly gave thought to such things anyway. "I would prefer to dock with one of the present vessels and speak in person," he admitted, closing his side of the communications and awaiting for a response as his ship drifted closer towards the impromptu 'meeting.' He hated waiting around for something to happen--he was naturally impatient--but as his own life changed, so too did his menrality on such things. If he was going to be the protector the Queens needed--that Tisiphone needed, not that she was anywhere near defenseless--he had to make sure to pick the battles he could win... which meant he would have to bite his tongue and see how the situation played out. After all, the Galaxy could be a hostile place. The AI spoke up, asking if he wanted to activate shields or weaponry, prompting him to scoff and shake his head. That seemed hardly appropriate, even though it was in his nature to present himself in the strongest position possible. So far, of the four ships arrayed, it looked like only his was truly a combative model anyway. "Keep an eye on the big one," he said to the AI truthfully, looking towards the largest vessel present. "That one might actually be a threat." Edited by DarkKnightCuron, Jun 14 2016, 09:20 PM.
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Marching to the Black Gates...
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| +CEMP+ | Jun 16 2016, 06:52 PM Post #17 |
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Clockwork Master
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Home. To most people, a home was where you stayed at; or rather, a dwelling that stayed in one place. All the time. That, to most people, was the point. Whether you worked all day, or had nothing else to do in your life but act like a hermit, a home was your respite when all was said and done. And it would always be there for you. But to Ryanchez Arma, the ship he came onto was home. No matter how long he spent time with grandparents, going to school or being with his friends, entering the cargo bay of the Blue Raptor always brought about a strong sense of comfort and belonging. As if the very air, warmth and hum of the ship welcomed him with open arms – a sensation that he found very difficult to describe to his friends, and only did so periodically. Not that it truly bothered him. Here, there was a definitive surety in the atmosphere that he was among a loving family that did not care for about his minor oddities – not that his few friends treated him anything less. To them, he was just quirky, and that totally suited him. Now, however, he was with mom. Awesome mom to be exact. He had seen a lot of mothers, and while his wasn't always around to greet him after school, he knew that her absence meant she was doing something incredible. She was fighting space monsters. It sounded far-fetched to some degree, but given that they lived in a age where uglies could rear theirs head from out of the stars, even his friends believed it. Of course, he had no idea what those space monsters were, but that didn't matter. He knew she was telling him the truth; he just felt it in his gut. She was facing off bad guys, and keeping the world safe. She was like a cool super hero. Plus, she had shown him her wickedly cool suit. Although he had to promise he'd never share any pictures of it, or just praise her so highly. To them, she just wanted to appear like a soldier or good willed mercenary. “So, um, so-so,” he asked, nervously putting his fingers together, “what did you and Zephyr do? ...You can tell me, right?” Jenosa laughed, “Only that me and Zephyr did some daring maneuvers in the air.” “And I managed to successfully extract her from the field just before,” Zephyr added with surprising energy. “Extract?” Ryan asked, quizzickly. “He means 'Got me the hell out of dodge,” Jenosa said, wryly. “I was going to say 'rescue' but that seems more appropriate,” Zephyr said. Ryan giggled, “'Cuz it'd be silly if the hero got rescued.” Jenosa snickered. Zerphyr tried to argue the point in vain, “Ironically, 75% of human fictional story's involve the female character getting rescued.” Both Jenosa and Ryan stared at one another for moment before bursting out laughing. After a good, long ten seconds, Jenosa was still snorting as she said, “In someone else's dream, maybe, but this 'damsel', nu-uh.” “Yes, well, you wouldn't be a very good operative if that was the case,” Zephyr amended. “Yeah, you just keep doing you do best, partner, and I'll do mine,” she said with a wave. At this, the holographic image of a young, dark brown boy, appearing just a year or two older than Ryan, shimmered into life before them. He he wore a deep red, plain T-shirt and navy blue jeans, but that's where 'normal' stopped. For one, his eyes were completely opac, and they even flickered here and there, bringing about a sense of blindness around him. But one of the most striking features was a his short hair that was braided against his scalp – it was a pure iris color. There was no darker shades to indicate dyes of any sort; this was a his chosen hair color. The boy smiled at Jenosa, and spoke with Zephyr's voice, “That I will. Oh,” he said, turning to Ryan, “I have something for you Ryan. A special object I made while we were away. I know you love puzzles, so you might enjoy this. If, it's still quite something.” Ryan beamed with enthusiasm, and looked at Jenosa for permission, “Can I, mom?” “What kind of nonsense question is that?” Jenosa said, ruffling her kids copper red hair, “Of course. I'll make dinner for use while you having fun. I don't know about but I'm famished.” “Yes,” Ryan said, dashing towards the ship's newly made lab in excitement. |
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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~ | Jun 19 2016, 12:23 PM Post #18 |
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Deadeye '17, eager to move on from the slow-motion train wreck that was last year.
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"What you mean, 'the brief was falsified', Shelton...? Explain." "Son," I'm tellin' y'all, I didn't know this myself until I grilled the Federation liaison on the matter. I wasn't keepin' this from ya, not on purpose; just didn't let y'know until I'd confirmed it. I don't like passin' information based on rumors, know what I'm sayin'?" Travis Clark was not a happy man. It was 3 AM, and he had checked in with his son to the hotel along with the rest of the Crosshairs crew save those minding the ship. He had been awoken by sudden ringing of the communications watch he had brought with him from the ship. Thankfully, he had managed to answer the call before it had stirred the slumbering Troy awake, but now he found himself having to address the one thing he had been hoping to avoid: company business. What he had not been expecting was learning that he had just sent one of his best operatives (and a dear friend) on a mission that involved a suppressed disaster; apparently, the subset of the Galactic Federation responsible for explaining how five billion people suddenly disappeared off an obscure outpost world were actively trying to keep the information from reaching the public, but had also concealed this vital information from BHG operatives. Even the BHG's leader himself, Willard Shelton, hadn't known without applying pressure. Neither man was exactly happy at the idea of being lied to, and reasonably so. "I assume that the Chairman doesn't know?" Travis murmured with a yawn; he kept his voice soft, thankful that the bedroom door allowed him an additional layer of buffeting to keep from waking Troy. "He's never been one to hide this information, but this is a pretty colossal thing to hide, even from the Bounty Hunters' Guild. Wouldn't surprise me if the faction who's had it in form him is trying to conceal this information." "Frankly Travis, that wouldn't surprise me at all, son." Willard Shelton had continued to age reasonably well, but a life of disregarding the welfare of his body was starting to take its toll; there was more of a worn look to his expressions, and more salt had been finding its way into his fiery red beard. "This whole ethical conflict's been buildin' fo' a mighty long time, and it ain't unheard of for one faction to keep vital info from the other to try an' leverage it. Sort of how y'all decided to help with Project GOLEM, whereas there was that whole Beta Leonis affair with Project Vertigo." "Don't remind me of that," Travis grunted as he flexed his arms over his head, letting out a soft yawn and scratching at the 5 o'clock shadow that had formed on his chin; he'd need to shave that off in the morning. "Look, Will... thank you for getting me in the know, I'm sure that once my man returns we'll all be having a very lengthy discussion with the Federation liaisons over veracity in their job placements. They're well aware that the BHG has a right to know if they're dealing in any confidential and classified matters that could put our safety on the line. For now, I need to go and get my guy in the know." The communications channel to Shelton's office in Oslo closed, and Travis let out a quiet sigh as he opened a holopanel and began jabbing at Constantine through the network to get his attention. From a guesstimate, it would take at least an hour to compile the necessary information that the Galactic Federation had made available to him after Shelton's pressured prodding. 3:15. Travis leaned to look at the stove-mounted clock in his hotel unit and sighed. Hopefully I can get through this fast enough and get back to bed before Troy wakes up and wonders where I am; daddy doesn't want him to worry why he's doing overtime. --------------------------- Meanwhile, back above K79-B... As the various communications of various vessels poured in through the comms, Yuujaaf was relieved to know that he was at least among friends; though he had kept the weapons disengaged to prevent his intentions from being misunderstood, he had kept the jump drive engaged in the case that he had to make a speedy escape from any enemy vessels hungry to bag an operative of the Crosshairs company. Thankfully, and much to his relief, he found that he was among friends. At least, for now. However, as he had sat back and quietly listened to all the communications chatter pouring in, he had received a disturbing message:
So his instincts had been right, Yuuj thought to himself as he narrowed his eyes, coiling his tail around his waist uneasily. Hyacertans came from a highly undeveloped world, where the races still had a relatively close grasp to nature. Yuuj was no exception, a commoner and Hya’zuwan (a Hyacertan word that translated to “Hunter-Warrior”) in the Lesser Saurmayan Empire who had spent his life amongst the culture of hunting, gathering, farming and trading culture of his little village. He hadn’t even seen electricity until he was 15, when small bits of technology began to creep in from the “sky-connected” cities, and the first time he had seen a holoscreen was when a Federation translator had helped him fill out his paperwork to register for the military. That wasn’t even counting how he hadn’t learned until almost five years ago how human reproduction worked; he had once innocently thought that all other races also had females that laid eggs and sat on a nest for months, patiently awaiting their progeny. Of course, he had been wrong. Which was why, he realized as he returned his focus back to the matter at hand, that he was able to sense that something on K79-B was very… wrong. Though he certainly hadn’t the foggiest idea what had happened, the sight of seeing the planet even from space gave the impression of a desiccated, floating husk of matter affixed in the cosmos. It wasn’t natural. When he had regained his composure, Yuuj decided that he would be sociable and join in on the discussion. Disjointed English or no, he would at least try to make an effort to show he was friendly. By the breath of Saurmaa, it was his obligation to do so! Most in the galaxy had never even seen his race; perhaps this was his chance to introduce them to a friendly first impression of a Hyacertan! “Star Cruiser Yu… Yucone,” Yuuj tripped over the vessel’s name, his still-awkward grasp of the English language being made apparent. “I am Wungek Yuujaaf of the Crosshairs Hunting Company. I am seeking to examine the world from the skies and to examine the rocks and dirt for a job that I must perform, but it would seem that not all is… good on this world. Would I be intruding on the things that you seek to do? I wish to be of a friend.” Edited by Deadly Aim, Jun 19 2016, 08:59 PM.
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| ~Alkarii~ | Jun 20 2016, 11:52 PM Post #19 |
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Soul Eater
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<Is it just me, or is there something odd about this situation?> Gauro sent to Ahtazem. <Not just you,> she returned, sending along a small amount of amusement with a bit of uncertainty. <So many ships arriving at once could be just a coincidence. Everyone else came to investigate a planet that should have what I assume to be a thriving population. Only... It doesn't. Not anymore. What do you know of that could do that to a planet?> <At the front of my mind? A few things, actually, and that's leaving out the gamma ray cannons we developed in the war, or the singularity warp missiles the Marrelkians developed... With some careful guidance and inspiration from us, of course.> <If you don't mind,> she sent, with a little bit of annoyance. <I'd appreciate it if you would just tell me what you know I need to know.> <Well, the most likely things I can think of all involve the star itself. Judging from the readings, that star seems to be getting weaker. I'd heard of research into using dark energy to kill a star, but I don't think that had gone anywhere. Something about aging them faster, but that normally increases the radiation. This star seems to be getting weaker, like something is draining it's life.> <So... You don't have any idea what caused this?> <I'm a spy, remember? We're normally disconnected from almost the entire collective. This could be something new, or a previously unknown variation of a known phenomenon or weapon. You'd have to ask them if they know anything. About the only thing I could really do is get on one of their ships and hack into their computers to see if they actually know anything.> A few messages played back and fourth between the other ships. The pilots of the two smaller vessels, at least, wouldn't likely have any knowledge of what happened, and it was also doubtful the larger vessel, the Yukon, would have been capable of killing a star in this fashion. Or at all, given what the tactical display was showing. It wasn't a bad ship, though it didn't appear quite as advanced as a Marrelkian ship of the same size. It was about this time that the pilot of one of the smaller vessels requested to dock. While it may have been possible for him to squeeze his ship into whatever space the Yukon had, it was doubtful, at least to Ahtazem, that this Yuujaaf would have also been able to comfortably fit his craft inside, as well. Getting one of their own people onboard the Yukon wouldn't have been as much of an issue; they could just open a warp gate and have someone walk through onto the other ship, though that would probably have sent the wrong signals. "We have plenty of space, if you prefer to have a physical meeting," Ahtazem offered. Which was probably obvious, given that the Zhokavven, at more than twelve hundred meters across, was hardly a small ship. She wondered how any humans who might be on the Yukon would react to finding humans on board, not to mention the little fact that most of those humans were not H. Sapiens at all. Sharing a common ancestor, maybe, but not the same species. |
| Since my liver is larger than my heart, does that mean I'm designed to drink more and care less? | |
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| ~DarkKnightCuron~ | Jun 23 2016, 06:39 PM Post #20 |
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Starfeather
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The name through the transmission beacon jogged the avian warrior's memory for a moment, a familiar joining of words stabbing him in the frontal lobe as if he was supposed to have remembered something. He paused for a moment, looking up at the ship in question before looking back down at his scanner readings, trying to figure out why that string of words should remind him of something. Or someone. He had been thinking about much and more that he must have pushed the memory out of his mind for the moment, only for him to look towards the artificial intelligence for a moment in guidance. In the Chozodian language, the AI quickly divulged more information on the topic, particularly about the Crosshairs Hunting Company. In effect, it was a kind of Private Military Company created by Travis 'Deadeye' Clark as a means to continue his profession of hunting bounties for the Galactic Federation. Z'Gato nodded in understanding, figuring he had either heard about it from Travis himself or from a second-hand source. Maybe there had been an invitation to join the group at some point, likely lost to the galactic messenger filters or spam folders. He hardly liked that method of communication, if he was perfectly frank, but at least he had context for the situation. So Travis had sent one of his men to investigate this planet as well, but just to examine dirt and rock? That seemed too benign even for Travis' reputation. At that moment, the other ship--known as the Zhokavven spoke up through the open channel in invitation for docking. Z'Gato hardly trusted either group at this point, save perhaps this 'Wungek Yuujaaf', a name or race he didn't recognize, yet if Travis Clark had employed this one, he was likely to be trusted. The Yukon was a smaller ship anyway, so the larger vessel was the ideal choice for docking procedures. He pressed upon the mute button again, disengaging the lock on communications from his vessel in order to coordinate. "Zhokavven, this is Z'Gato. I will lock my ship onto an approach vector on 260-mark-275 for docking, stand by," he said, punching in the coordinates for his AI to handle the rest of the maneuvers. The ship would begin to guide itself towards the larger ship's nearest docking bay--at least, from what the Chozo's scanners could tell--travelling along a line towards the ship's back-left flank. From there, the AI would coordinate with theirs for docking procedures and execution, and if all went well, the ship would find itself snuggly and safely attached to the larger ship for boarding. Z'Gato had never heard of their particular species before, but then again, Z'Gato wasn't exactly in the habit of asking questions unless they were important. He probably looked just as foreign to them as they did to him--but that didn't mean he wouldn't emerge from his ship fully armored either. At this point, his Power Suit was like a second skin to him, the powerful Phazon-resistant, extreme-environment-resistant subsystems already active as he emerged from his ship. He made sure not to point the powerful Beam Cannon at anyone as he boarded, but it was clear he would not leave his ship without a means of self-defense. He hadn't come this far by taking risks, that was for sure. Once aboard, if allowed, he would introduce himself to the first person--or sentient object--that presented itself. "I am Z'Gato of the Chozo. I wish to speak with this vessel's captain on the matter of this planet's fate." |
Marching to the Black Gates...
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2:55 PM Jul 11