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RPG: FTL


Alex Humva

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IC:

 

"This is Chastain, alive and vindicated," the comm finally said, a sheepish crackle laced into the Lieutenant's voice. "The stir fry is quarantined in some dark little corner of the cargo hold and my esophagus is tranquilized to prevent further shutdown attempts. Headed your way, Colonel."

 

-Tyler

Edited by young sinatra

SAY IT ONE MORE TIME 

TELL ME WHAT IS ON YOUR MIND

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"Well at least there's that." The Colonel shut the comm off, pulling out a package of vintage swedish fish from her drawer. She was told that this package had been freeze dried from centuries ago, but were thawed when found in an archaeological dig. Popping one in, she noted that it didn't taste like centuries old food, but then again, she wasn't sure what it was suppose to taste like. Strange candy, all in all.

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Estelle

 

"I doubt it. I've worked with plenty of mercs and they never listen until it's too late. A lot of them died that way." The commander said with a sigh before changing the subject.

 

"Where are the engineers?" The pink haired woman grumbled. "I swear if those things are on my ship and it gets damaged because they didn't head down here..." Her fist clenched a bit but, instead of a violent outburst, she clicked on her com.

 

"Okay. Once again, on the colonel's orders, I need engineers down here to check the fighters for nanites."

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IC Vincent

Once the fighters had docked and the area was clear, Vincent exited the airlock. Attaching himself to the ship with a spacewalk cable, he headed over to the site of the damage. Inspecting the site for a while, he spoke into his comm. "If this was just regular damage," Vincent spoke, "It would be an easy job. While the scrape is pretty long, it's quite shallow compared to what usually happens; if we really wanted to be stingy about it, we could melt down some scrap here and now and patch the scrape up. Given that nanites were involved though, we don't know just how much damage was done until we learn just what they were supposed to do. At the next stop, I'll do a more thorough check and repairs if we need to."

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IC: Zahm silently listened to the discussion behind him as he mapped out travel vectors, gauging what he could from the crew's words. So far this vessel already had a mercenary who viewed orders liked a child viewed bedtimes, and rising tensions thanks to the mantis and slugs running about the place, and now Can and Ameli were eying each other up like a pair of cats. Tension. Too much tension. Not good on a crate like this. It all got bottled up in the cramped corridors and shared bunks, nowhere to vent with the empty vacuum outside paradoxically closing in on them. They'd need do something about it eventually or people would start tearing each other apart. And they'd probably start with the aliens. It would be a bloodbath, if any of them actually had anything you could call blood

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OOC
Ok so with our near-final crew member onboard, I'm going to do the big talk in the hanger tomorrow. We've now time-skipped twelve hours and everyone should be gathering on the hanger deck to listen to the Colonel and the Lieutenant speak. Things should get going shortly after that.

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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OOC:

 

Aaaaand, requested buffer/timeskip post is a go!

 

IC:

 

As he had been instructed to do, Major Daniels walked onto the catwalk overlooking the crew below, pausing just long enough to briefly straighten his uniform. Four hours had passed since the alert, and the Colonel had notified him that he would be expected to join her and the Lieutenant Colonel at the assembly. Came with the rank, he supposed.

 

Nodding briefly to her to indicate a greeting, he clasped his hands behind his back and faced the crew.

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Estelle Walker

 

Estelle was waiting on the overhanging cat walk, as per the Colonel's instructions. She was now in her full uniform, a black pencil skirt with a tucked in dress shirt and sensible heels, as she made her way next to Major Daniels.

 

She saluted the Colonel and the Lieutenant before nodding gently to Major Daniels. She then proceeded to copy his stance and faced the crew.

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

The Colonel's OCD decided to act up at this point; to her right stood the Lieutenant and Major Daniels, to her left stood Major Walker. If she moved over one there'd still be an imbalance on either side. She'd need to appoint some a new major, but then there'd be an imbalance of majors on either side. Maybe if she had two lieutenants... that could work. It'd also be bloody stupid, so she forced that aspect to be quiet. She looked down from the catwalk, the remaining crew of eighteen assembled down there. The pilot couldn't join them, apparently she'd slipped further into whatever medical condition she had right now. It was entirely possible she'd need to be sent back home for better treatment. That'd make things annoying. Until then, the navigations officer could take over for her.

 

Clearing her throat, she stood straight, the crowd in turn making sure it was in a somewhat-straight military square. The civilians weren't as trained in it, but otherwise it seemed reasonable enough.

 

"Consider this your proper welcome to the UFS Kestrel," she began. "For those who didn't read the memo, I am Colonel Palmira Ojeda. I am the one who is going ensure this mission is successful. By order of the Terran Council and the Federation High Command, we are to transfer goods and information to the Zoltan Elders. A path has been plotted out from here to the Zoltan homeworlds, and it is estimated we will be on this journey for two to three months. It is vital we do not fail in this mission; we have all, one way or the other, sworn our lives to the defense of Terra and her daughters. If what I understand is correct, this will change the course of the war, allowing us to finally break the Mantis stalemate.

 

"To right is your executive officer, Lieutenant Colonel Sophie Chastain. If I am the one that is going to make sure this ship get to the Zoltan homeworlds, she is the one that will keep you all alive until we get there. Furthest to the right is Major William Daniels, officer in charge of handling ship-affairs. To my left is Major Estelle Walker, auxiliary officer and flight commander. Both of the Majors are commendable officers, and you will find no difficulties serving under them. I will let the two of them speak, and then the Lieutenant Colonel will brief you on what you can expect in the next few weeks of serving aboard this vessel."

 

The Colonel took a step back, motioning to Daniels to start first.

Edited by Strategist Alex Humva

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC (Devas)


Devas was less than impressed by one of officers standing before the gathered crew. If what he’d read in her file was correct (Devas had had precious little to do with his free time but read the publically available files on the crew and brood) then Major Walker was, like one of her pilots, one of those thrill-modifiers who thought that spitting upon the graves of the thousands of victims early genetic engineering experiments had claimed was just fine and dandy so long as they could get cat ears, pink hair or something equally wasteful. ‘Commendable' officer indeed-it took a certain type to do what she had. Devas, of course, showed none of his inner thoughts, his uniform and gasmask hid them quite well.


He would do his duty; he would do his bit to ensure humanity was victorious. That did not mean he would rub shoulders with those who had, basically, desecrated the graves of his forefathers. He really would not. Without really thinking about the action, he clasped his necklace in his hand. The calming effect was instantaneous. He knew why he was here-the buggers had killed his husband and so many more. So let the gene deviants smile and wave, let the xenos do whatever their strange-minded instincts bade them. He would not allow himself to be distracted by them.



IC (Ameli)


Ameli stood at attention, appearing be staring at the gathering officers politely. That her eyes were actually flickering around the room and taking in the appearance of a crew that could be called “ragtag”, “a disaster waiting to happen” and “of susceptible loyalty” if one was feeling charitable was immaterial. The Mantis were clearly traitors waiting to happen, if they weren’t double-agents for the rest of their vile race. The gene deviant flight commander was, evidently, having a feud with some hotshot merc, the boarding team was dangerously understaffed and last, but certainly not least, she’d heard that Devas had been under the mistaken impression that security guards doubled as competent engineers the galaxy over.


Still, she trusted most of the humans to an extent. Most of them seemed competent. That’d have to be enough. At least it wouldn’t be a boring trip. It was, she suspected, going to be very interesting. What sort of interesting remained to be seen. Perhaps they’d suppress all expectations, perhaps they’d die screaming or perhaps they would simply fail.


Well, if all else failed, she had her wine.



OOC: Since there appears to be, if what I've heard is any indication, some misconceptions here, the Vendarian's opinions do not, in fact, reflect my own.


For one thing, there is a disturbing lack of snake worship and necromancy among them.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC:

 

William did as he was bid, taking a step forward to speak. He had, as befitting the occasion, taken the time to change into his crisp, clean dress uniform, rank insignias present on either shoulder and the symbol for the Space Forces on his chest. His customary smile was notable by its absence, his face instead set in a serious and appraising look.

 

"As the Colonel has stated, I am Major William Daniels. In addition to handing ship-affairs, I am also the Kestrel's Weapons Officer. I've had the pleasure of speaking with some of you already, but I do not believe any of you are familiar with me. I am a graduate of the officer's academy in Munich back home, top twenty of my graduating class. I have served as Weapons Officer aboard several vessels prior to this one for roughly eight years of active shipboard service."

 

"I do not relay this to brag or seem impressive; I state this so you are aware of my general service history, so you may rest assured that I am quite experienced with my job. The Colonel has already stressed to you the importance of our mission. I hope that you all will be worthy of the trust that is being placed in this crew."

 

He paused a moment, tone turning more severe as he scanned the crowd. "You've likely noticed that this crew isn't quite like the norm. We've a mercenary or two, a few non-human crew members, a few from outside Federation space, and a few with unusual genetic modifications. Allow me to take this moment to stress something; It does not matter. I don't care what your prejudices are, what your opinions are, or whether you're really okay with serving alongside such people. If you have a problem, take it up with the ship's counselor. I expect all of you to cooperate and work civilly at minimum."

 

"That said, I look forward to serving with you all. Major Walker, I leave the floor to you." William stepped back into line, observing the crew below carefully."

Edited by Simon the Digger

fK5oqYf.jpg

 

On this eve, the thirtieth anniversary of that first colony, many are left to wonder; is the world fast approaching a breaking point?

 

 

  Breaking Point: An OTC Mecha RPG

 

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IC: Estelle

 

"Thank you, Major." Estelle stepped up, her green eyes scanning the crowd and she took a soft breath. "Denizens of the Kestrel, I'm sure some of you, like Major Daniels, have noticed that this crew is mismatched. We are an experiment. We need to prove that we can all work together."

 

"Many of us have fought in wars before and may have prejudices against our fellow crew members." Her voice suddenly got more serious and those that could see her best could see her eyes grow a bit of a darker green. "Let me make it clear that we are a team now. We work together we live together, and if we don't work together, we will die together. We cannot afford to have any more clashes with one another. We have a mission and failure, my friends, failure is not an option."

 

She stood there for a moment, looking over all of them before stepping back and looking at her commanding officers. She nodded to them, indicating that she was done.

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IC:

 

Can, standing in white dress uniform, at attention in the front row, did notice Estelle's slight change of facial expression; he flashed her a quick encouraging smile before looking back at the Colonel, wondering idly who was next to speak. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see the Vendarians. Must be madmen, wearing that all the time. I'm going to have to talk to her about that if she doesn't want to burn up during the fighting.

That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC (Ameli & Devas)


The red-tinted visors of the Vendarian duo’s gasmasks met for a brief moment as the speeches concluded. Ameli couldn’t say she particularly liked Devas, far too focused on the past and revenge for her tastes, but still, he was Vendarian, he understood things that eluded most of the crew. Like how to communicate silently while wearing a gasmask. A slight twitch of the head for instance, depending on how smooth the motion was, could indicate exasperation or dry amusement if performed correctly.


In this case, that was exactly what it was communicating. Devas returned the motion, though he returned is gaze to the higher-ups not long after, indicating this non-verbal moment of kinship was complete. Yes, let’s all make nice with the species whose mindless bloodlust was legend. Honestly. They’d be taping rainbow banners to the top of the mess hall and painting smiley faces on all the doors next.

Edited by Basilisk

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC -- Francis

"Words, words, words," thought Francis. "Could this be any more mind-numbing?" For a moment, Francis entertained the thought of implanting some form of ridiculous image in the minds of the crew if for no other reason than the looks on people's faces would amuse him. "However, it's likely that many of these are lesser minds who would be unable to function without a commanding officer rattling off orders all day." Still, unwilling to put such an idea to waste, Francis settled for subtly planting an image of sky-diving gophers in the minds of his "superiors".

"Now then, who here should I sucker into a game of Emotional Turmoil later?"

Takuma Nuva

Edited by Takuma Nuva

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If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

Painting mental images was not a subtle art; picking stray thoughts, aye, that could be done by a skilled psionic relatively stealthily. Implanting something into the mind of an officer who had underwent extensive psionic training? Less so. The Colonel kept her mind blank as she waited for the Lieutenant to say something, but at the same time, pulled out a Federation credit, good and solid metal, and with a flick of the wrist, sent it straight down and hit the snarky slug right at the stem of its left antenna. That was sure to sting, and remind it not to go poking around in other's minds. Not without the Colonel ordering it to, anyways.

 

OOC
After some discussion, we've decided there's not a whole lot for the Lieutenant to actually say that wouldn't be better off being in a memo, so we're just going pretend she was never going speak anyways and get things going again.

 

IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

With the meeting over, the Colonel headed towards the bridge, flanked by Major Daniels and the Lieutenant. They assembled onto the bridge and took their seats, the navigations officer having just completed the calculations for the next jump. Behind them also walked in the Vendarian representative and the Security Chief, and the Colonel could tell that something was going on. It'd warrant investigation later, but for now, they were present to deal with any threats that might wait after the jump.

 

"According to the information we do have, we'll be jumping into an ancient Engi outpost that has been re-purposed by gray market traders as a station. We'll attempt to get some repairs there, patch the hull up a bit, and see if we can stay out of trouble." The Colonel clicked on the comms to engineering. "Chief! The course is set, punch the crystals and prepare your engineering crew for hull maintenance."

 

OOC
For those wondering what to do if you're not on the bridge, don't worry, you'll get a job as soon as we jump in, which shouldn't take nearly as long.

Edited by Strategist Alex Humva

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Premade conversation with Estelle and Can

 

Estelle sighed as she walked trough the hall, still in her dress uniform. What had she been saying? Spewing about teamwork when she had just as many prejudices and issues as everyone else. 'Great leader I am.' She thought to herself as she tussled her hair in frustration, as if shaking the pink locks were the key to her settling her thoughts.

 

Can announced his presense deliberately, in a manner someone from a crowded terran city would never notice, but someone from the sparse belt would; deliberately loud stepping, so that Estelle would notice someone was following her and have the option not to speak to him.

 

She stopped and turned around, looking at the stranger. "Hello." She said with a nod.

 

"Hello. Nice to see you again. That sword working out for you?"

 

"...." She stared at the man closely, looking him up and down before she looked up at him with her emerald eyes. "...why do you ask?"

 

"Was wondering if you'd recognize me outside of my combat kit." Can smiled at Estelle, meeting their two pairs of emerald eyes. "I guess not." With a quick gesture he pointed to the nametag on his dress uniform "C. Skinter"

 

Her eyes widened and she rushed forward, wrapping her arms around him. "Can!!"

 

He wrapped his arms around her in a hug, almost catching her. "Estelle!"

 

She smiled up at the man as she gently pulled apart. "So... What do you think of me in the dress uniform?"

 

"It works surprisingly well with the pink..." Can said, his eyes flicking to her hair.

 

She blushed and then looked down. "I didn't think you'd be here... It's been a while.."

 

"I didn't know you would be either until I checked the files...Did they really make you a Major?"

 

"Is that so unbelievable?" She said with her hands on her hips.

 

"Oh those hips." Was Can's first thought, though he didn't voice it. What he did say was "Just teasing you, Stelle. Congrats on the promotion."

 

"Thank you, Mr. Skinter." She said in an insincere huff.

 

"Why'd you wait so long to say hello?"

 

"Wanted to catch you alone." Can said with a wink.

 

Her cheeks burned bright as her emerald eyes turned to look away from his. "You just wanted to have me make a scene. 'Oh my savior! Let my tear off my clothes and leap into your arms!' Thing."

 

"I would have settled for a kiss, but if you insist..." Can said with his usual prankish grin, a hint of blushing in his cheeks

 

"Oh.." She blushed and kissed his cheek. "There you go, a kiss for a hero."

 

"...Well that just actually happened didn't it?"

 

"Pretty much." She said with a laugh and then held her hand. "That'll be five bucks."

 

Can, the smooth man he is, instead took Estelle's hand in his and did a bit of twisting to get them to be standing next to each

other, holding hands

 

"You know, for someone I haven't seen in a while, you're pretty bold." She said as she blushed wildly.

 

"Well, maybe I am. We probably shouldn't be flirting in the corridors or anything, anyway. We're sensible officers on a ship that, far as I can see, is full of madmen. Should probably put up a good example?"

 

"Flirting?! I kissed the person that saved my life cheek!" She said with a blush.

 

"I was the one flirting, I guess." Can said, blushing a bit in return.

 

"Yes you were." She said with a blush, putting her hands on her hips again.

 

"I hope you don't mind...?"

 

"No... It's alright."

 

"So, you have a department, right? Flight commander?"

 

"And Auxiliary officer." She said proudly, jutting her chest out.

 

"Very nice. Big job, that. I'm Security Chief, Teleporter officer, and Boarding Commander. Which all boils down to being the first

person shot when things go bad."

 

"Oh... Well, I guess you've always been one to put yourself in such situations anyway."

 

"What do you mean? It's not like I take command of forces I have no legal right to order, lead them against mankind's worst invasion in history, and violate protocol by personally leading a mission to rescue a distressed pilot from the sahara desert."

 

"I meant it suits you.. Always being in danger." She said with determination.

 

"Oh. Well, it is sort of in the job description and all...thanks. I think." Can seemed entirely unsure whether this ought to be a compliment or not.

 

"It is... But be careful." She said as she squeezed his hand tightly.

 

Can squeezed her hand back, seeming to pause before saying "I will..."

 

"You better." She said sternly, poking him in the chest.

 

"Alright, I will. Now I'm gonna go change into something I can actually breathe in. Glad you're onboard." Can said; though he'd said he was leaving, he hadn't yet let go of her hand...

 

She looked up at him and then down at her hand. "Are you planning on taking me with you?"

 

"...Not yet." Can said, grinning again and letting go, heading down the hall with a spring in his step.

 

She watched him go down the hall and shook her head before walking toward her room. What an odd person.

 

Can paused for one look back towards her before he headed around a corner, giving a slight sigh.

 

But... Something about him had always made her blush. Maybe it was because he had saved her life or maybe it was his demeanor and appearance...

Edited by Xomeron
That being said, thag thag thaggity thag thagness.

-Rover

 

"A memo was sent to Astaria asking if it would at all be possible to make a flying goat."

"The Astarians responded that making a goat fly would be trivial; making it land safely would be another matter entirely."

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IC (Ameli)


“Colonel, m’am, if it isn’t too much trouble could I have the exact name of this station? I’ve got reports filed away on quite a few void facilities nearby. I can forward it to you.” The reports covered the typical drudgery on might expect, station specifications, weapons (if any), species breakdowns and such as. They also, however, covered criminal power groups, beings of influence, the non-criminal authorities (if any) and corporate presence. She also included a few notes on how to destabilize said groups, if it came to that.


When you spent most of your day in your office, staring at the wall, you did what you could to keep yourself entertained.


IC (Devas)


“Orders received Colonel. We are commencing activation procedures. Stand by.” Devas motioned at the members of his unit. “One of you, monitor our vitals-the rest, help me get these crystals punched and primed.” Devas rose from his seat and ever-so carefully picked up a one of the FTL crystals from storage.


I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC: Ashley

 

​Ashley slow walked down the hallway, heading toward her room. As informative as the meeting had been, she was glad it was over. She liked her dress uniform well enough, but the whole time she'd been standing at attention, trying her best not to move around. It was one of the things she found the most difficult in military life, she didn't find holding still very easy. Far too many things to distract her, it was amazing she could even remember what was said in the speeches. She swore the Vendarians had been staring at her...then again there was no way to tell with the masks, she probably just imagined it.

 

The ship was most likely preparing to jump, and for the moment Ashley had nothing to do until she was called upon. Of course she could always take a nap....

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"I believe it's called Galaxy's End or somesuch. Takes kickbacks from the League in exchange for some weapons shuttling, if I remember correctly." The Colonel didn't seem all too bothered by that, monitoring the engine power readings with interest. Once the crystals were slotted in and the reactor was ready, she flipped up a little cover on her chair, a throttle level being revealed. "Keep us steady Nav." The comm went on. "All hands, brace for FTL jump in five."

 

The Colonel pushed the level forward, the sound of humming came over the vessel, and in an instant, everything went dark. Then, a moment later, light returned to the world, the ship's engines quieting down as it came into the plotted course. The window was filled with the image of the space station, a grand construction of gray and black metals, stretching at least three hundred meters in length. The Colonel's chair began beeping at her, a message waiting for her. A few clicks later and it was on the screen, the image of a middle-aged man in an old uniform appearing.

 

"This is Galaxy's End, state your designation and purpose."

 

"This is the LPV Lima, docking for supplies and repairs."

 

"Understood. Scanning ship now for unauthorized materials. Please keep your weapons powered off during your stay." There was a moment of silence. "A group of individuals have given us your ship ID and wish to speak a Colonel Ojeda. Meeting coordinates are being transmitted. Enjoy your stay."

 

The Colonel stood, the transmission ending. Not one to linger, she motioned to the command officers and adviser to follow her as she walked out of the bridge, talking quickly. "Chastain, you'll stay here and keep an eye on the ship. Try to keep any Engi from running off with our parts. Captain Skinter, get that boy of yours, Taylor, down to the bay, he'll be accompanying me. Rest of your detachment, run security. Adviser Halik, I would suggest gathering information and star maps, we could use both in our journey." She clicked her comm on. "Chief, we're docking, get your crew out there and start working. With the station tools, we should be fixed up in no time, and I certainly don't intend to wait around long." To the next frequency. "Walker, get whatever supplies you and your pilots need. Also, the half-track has been having some engine problems, see if you can find someone to take a look at it." Finally, to the whole ship, "Attention crew, we're going be docking here for the next four hours. Consider this an opportunity to replenish the stocks of illegal substances you have in your lockers and to get some fresh air. Those of you going out, stick together into a group. This is not Terra Firma, there are criminals and mercenaries on this station, don't start fights without numbers. Get back to the ship in a timely manner or we'll probably leave without you."

 

With that, the Colonel reached the side ladder, sliding down to the bottom deck and preparing to leave onto the station.

 

OOC
So if everyone's not clear on what they can go do now or what they're suppose to be doing, give a yell in the discussion topic, we'll sort it out. And to answer the inevitable question, our ship is actually landing inside of a hanger, and as such the engineering crew will be working in an atmosphere and gravity.

 

Also if it wasn't clear, yeah we aren't identifying as the Federation here. Everyone going out is to remove their emblems and don the customary trenchcoats of secrecy and coolness.

Edited by Strategist Alex Humva

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1 1 2 3 5 8 13 21 34 55 89


"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC: Estelle

 

"Yes ma'am. I'll see if anyone needs anything and will make sure to try to find someone to fix that half-track." She replied onto the com as she walked into her room.

 

She quickly pulled on her tight suit again, attaching the belt with her two hand held weapons to rest upon her hips. She gently patted the sword before walking out.

 

"Alright," she said onto the com frequency of her pilots, "If you all need any supplies come meet me at the door to the docking area and we shall head out."

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IC:

Ace had very quickly made his way back to his quarters after the meeting had finished. And, after doing so, had proceeded to sit there until the jump had completed. Once they had docked and the Colonel had finished her message, Ace grunted. He didn't have any need to leave the ship, in reality. So, he sat on his bed, gun by his side, just in case anyone attempted to burst in.

And, as he reached to pick up his gun, he realized he may need more ammo. Which means I'll have to leave the ship... he thought.

With another grunt, he stood up and picked up his gun. He was going to have to find someone to accompany him...but who?

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC -- Francis

Francis stood at the top of the boarding ramp. He had a leashed rock in tow and stood leaning against the wall, flipping a Federation credit in the air repeatedly. Truth be told, the impact of the coin hadn't hurt much, thanks to a healthy layer of mucus; it mostly just took him by surprise. "Still, she's clearly clever enough to pick up on what I did, so I can't help but respect her for that." Francis pondered a moment more and a frown appeared on his face. "Either that or she's just a lucky guess." Francis shrugged and grinned as he continued to flip the coin. "Still, we've only just started and already I've turned a profit. I do wonder if she'll keep giving me money if I keep messing with her."

Francis looked back at the still empty hallway, wondering when somebody would come along that he could "group" with. "Obviously, I am in need of no such group, but it goes without saying that so many of these others require babysitting." Francis looked down at his rock and gave the leash a couple quick tugs. "No matter, so long as I can get Roberto out for a walk. He tends to become restless being cooped up all the time..."


Takuma Nuva

Edited by Takuma Nuva

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If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC:

Footsteps echoes in the hallway behind Francis. They were coming closer at a slow but steady pace.

Ace rounded the corner, and saw Francis sitting there with a rock. He stared blankly at the Slug for a moment, and then grunted. His gun was strapped to his side, underneath a cloak, and it was obvious that Ace was heading out.

He glanced down at the rock, and sighed.

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Steam name: Ehksidian

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IC: Ashley


Ashley's cat ears perked up when she heard her commander's offer over the comn. "I'll be right there ma'am!" She replied over the comm as she entered her bunk, stripping out of her dress uniform and putting on the more standard one. As fun as the dress uniform was, it really wasn't the most comfortable or easy to move around in.


She was dressed in record time and heading out of the bunk and into the hallway.

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My Bzprpg ProfilesGhosts of Bara Magna

Skyra | Hakari | Oceanna | Taleen | Arisaka | Zanakra | Kaminari | Drakkar

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IC -- Francis

It was clear that Ace disapproved of Roberto. Francis imagined that Roberto would have taken offense, were he capable of such things. As the so-called "cleaner" approached with Rehn, Francis tucked away his coin. Being in the good mood he was in, he decided he would permit the other two to take the lead. Francis popped his lips and performed an exaggerated bow and sweep of the arm toward the exit.

OOC -- You guys just like to keep me on my toes by surprising me just as I'm about to click "post", don't you? :P


Takuma Nuva

76561198002924926.png

 

If The Good Lord had intended us to walk

He would not have invented roller skates.
-- Willy Wonka

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IC (Ameli)


“I will not be held responsible for what will happen if someone attempts to accost me. Fair warning. Regardless, I’ll see what I can do about those charts. You have any preferences?” Ameli was standing ramrod straight, red-tinted visors pointing straight ahead and her arms were tucked behind her back. She liked to think she was the very picture of a modern secret policewoman. The fact that her eyes were wondering around the room, as was becoming a habit (one couldn’t be too careful when aliens were on board) was once again, ruled immaterial.


IC (Devas)


“Right. We’ll get it done. I’d like to have some security on hand though-dissuade the local scum and all that.” Devas tapped into the comms of the shipboard engineers. “We're repairing the damage the nanobots gave us. No point in wasting time, be out there as soon as possible.” Without another word, Devas breezed out of the engine room, sidearm rather pointedly hanging at this side.


I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC [Colonel Ojeda]

 

"The ones that map from here to Zoltan space would be nice. Try and see if you can find out where the bad systems are, I know there's some uncharted black holes in these parts, would hate to get caught up in one of them."

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"In short, my English Lit friend, living in a mental world of absolute rights and wrongs, may be imagining that because all theories are wrong, the earth may be thought spherical now, but cubical next century, and a hollow icosahedron the next, and a doughnut shape the one after." -Isaac Asimov, responding to a letter he had received saying that scientific certainty was false, The Relativity of Wrong

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IC (Ameli)

 

"Noted. Probably got a marketplace on station, hopefully they'll have something useful. If not...well, I'm sure there's a few captains in the local bars I can get drunk." Or threaten. Or both. Both was best really, people didn't think (or fight) well when they were drunk. "Now unless anyone else has anything to do in the marketplace, I'll be on my way. Figure if anyone else does, well, security in numbers. Can never be careful enough in places like this."

 

IC (Devas)

 

Devas walked through the hallways of the vessel, staunchly ignoring everything around him as he made his way to the exit. Sooner he got a solid look at the damage, sooner he could get it repaired. Hopefully the rest of his team would be along shortly, he needed as many pairs of hands as he could find. Bloody nanobots.

I believe you find life such a problem because you think there are the good people and the bad people. You are wrong, of course. There are, always and only, the bad people, but some of them are on opposite sides.

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IC Vincent

The moment the Colonel had given the all clear, Vincent had made like his pants and split, immediately heading for the source of the damage. Having personally seen the damage, he knew just what was needed to fix it. "There didn't seem to be any interior damage, thank goodness, but two cm? That's actually quite a lot, now that I think about it"

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IC (Karin):

 

Back in her cabin after the meeting, Karin chucked off the dress uniform and pulled on a generic grey (and much more comfortable) work suit.

 

She normally didn't come back to the cabin, preferring to spend her time in the small section of the medbay she set up as her "office." She stored most of her belongings there, leaving only the more bulky possesions such as clothes and cooking materials in her cabin locker. As such, she rarely saw her bunkmate--or anyone else, for that matter--outside of the mess hall, and even then she tended not to take the initiative conversation, instead directing her attention to savouring her food (even if it wasn't the greatest) as much as she could. This isn't to say she didn't want to interact with others or make friends. She just wasn't so sure how to prioritize her time now on this new, smaller ship.

 

This now was her chance, though: in her announcement, the Colonel directed any crew leaving the vessel to travel in groups. This would be her best chance, even if already a week into the journey, to finally form connections with other crew members. Despite her thoughts, her outward demeanor was decidedly not so enthusiastic. Perhaps this was also a factor resulting in her current state. Oh well.

Karin reached down to pick up her belt and sidearm from her locker and tightened it around her waist. She then pulled out the issued "clandestine" dark coat and stuck her arms through the sleeves, then fastening it in the front. There was no cap issued with the coat, so she made a mental note to get one on the station if such things were being sold here. Preferably some sort of soft cap, but she figured it wouldn't matter too much so long as it looked fine.

 

All set, she stepped out into the corridor and made her way to the bottom deck to disembark.

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IC - Kelezaag:

 

Kelezaag listened intently to the announcement. She supposed she might as well go out; there were some things she might like to pick up. She pulled herself off of the thin mattress of her bunk, and stepped through the doorway, into the hall. After slipping on a coat, she leisurely made her way to the exit, and stepped unceremoniously out of the ship. As she gained distance from the Kestrel, she looked back at it. It was aesthetically pleasing enough; perhaps too much so, she thought with amusement. Wouldn't it be funny if the whole voyage ended, not with the successful execution of their mission, or with the successful execution of her fellow crewmen by herself, but by the ship's being hijacked by some lucky pirate?

 

She saw others leaving the ship, but did her best to avoid them. She didn't need them. Besides the fact that she wouldn't be in the place long, she doubted there was anyone on the station stupid enough to try ambushing her.

 

Besides, the rest of the crew would probably team up with her attackers to try and kill her, anyway.

 

She walked out of the hangar and into the station proper. Finding the marketplace was easy enough, and once there, she began looking for the items she had come for. The wine was sure to be easiest. Other, stronger drinks were more popular on the station, but wine was still in high demand. Next, and rather more difficult, was an air freshener. She usually did this with a candle, but open flames in space was a big no-no. So, an air freshener would have to do. She eventually found one with the desired scent; coconut, though it had some other human trash blended with it. Last was a cut of some strange animal she had never bothered trying to read the name of. It was exorbitantly priced, but she didn't care. After all, she could afford to feed the stuff to the entire crew of the Kestrel for a year without making a sizable dent in her savings.

 

She concealed the items within her coat, and began making her way back to the ship. This was the most stressful day of the year, by far. If she got held up by some fool as she was leaving, she swore to every god she knew of that she would disembowel him on the spot.

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Kenshin Harken

 

IC: As soon as the introductory speeches were over Kaneshin had gone directly to change in to his armor suit. Friendly space was too hostile for his taste these days and they were now leaving the debatable amount of protection that space gave them behind. They were about to jump and most combat took place directly after.

 

As it turned out, nothing happened. They had an entirely normal jump and docking. After the Colonel's message went out he sent out one of his own.

 

"Specialist Harken available for bodyguard detail. If you need somebody to go with you let me know,"

"I serve the weak. I serve the helpless. I am their sword and their shield. If you want to strike at them, you must go through me, and I am not so easily moved."

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