Futuristic Cosmic Deep (open)

[Pacificus]

Daytona bent his arm awkwardly to holster his weapon. He could hear voices beneath him. His hand bent into a "C" shape. He saw no other way out of the vent. "Sorry engineering." he muttered and slammed his hand through the gaps in the vent. He crushed the thin metal in his palm and pulled the rest of the vent free with little effort. "Superior engineering."
He poked his head down through the hole and into medical. A whole gaggle of the ships crew were present. Including...

Daytona let one arm down through the hole and pointed at the stowaway.
"Gotch'a now..." What're the knife-ears called, again? "...Varmint!"
Daytona flexed his shoulders and wiggled free of the ventilation shaft. He shifted his weight midair and did a half-frontflip. His heavy frame landed on the deck with a loud thud. He cracked his neck side-to-side. "I'm going to filet you from stem-to-stern." He said angrily. He didn't intend to actually harm the Alfen, but Daytona really wanted to intimidate him.

Then the Captain entered.

**************

Daytona didn't like that the Captain shot down his request to cuff the suspect. Though, he was appeased with her having Hart escort him to decon. That left Daytona to deal with the unsecured weapons. He stepped forward and picked Tristan's strange belt up off the ground. After doing so, he leaned in to Haul. "Never break into any of my arms lockers ever again." He growled. Then a little more softly, "If you need a gun just ask."
Daytona had no issues with crewmembers being armed. He was used to everyone around him carrying some kind of iron. He just didn't like the sanctity of his armory being violated. He stepped back and held a hand out to Eichkern. "I'll take custody of those, Operator."

 

[Lord Saethos]

Eichkern felt his breath catch slightly as Dr. Haliday decided to take a much more straightforward, unambiguous approach to talking with the stowaway. Not much for subtlety it seemed, but he wondered if perhaps she was perceptive of something he wasn't? Maybe those wasps of hers could tip her off to something he couldn't sense. Pure conjecture of course, and for the moment, not really resolving the situation.

The Alfen introduced himself, Tristan his name was, and quickly surrendered his weapons to the ground. Eichkern narrowed his eyes at the heap, then cast a somewhat disapproving glance back at the Alfen. Despite distancing himself from the views and mindsets of his own people, Eichkern couldn't help but be a little irked by the move. It was a difficult notion to shake off, but that Deimosian mentality that the Alfen should have stood his ground was front and center of his mind.

Before he could voice any protest, the Zumolkan surrendered his ill-gotten arms into Eichkern's hands.

"What were you doing with these anyways...?"

Eichkern muttered to himself.

Shortly after that, the Security Chief appeared from the ventilation shaft as well, notably irate about the theft of weapons, the stowaway, and possibly much more.

"Next time I see you Doctor, I'd like to request a privacy screen." He spoke in the direction of Haliday.

What the robot threatened towards the Alfen was... Surprising, to say the least. He couldn't recall any androids speaking like that in the past, certainly not without a little influence from humans or Deimosians, but then again perhaps they were just trying to avoid seeming threatening.

Evidently the security chief was interested in achieving the opposite.

And before Eichkern could say anything to cool the situation down with the Security Chief, the room was filled again with not one, but TWO more people. Fortunately, it was the Captain herself, followed by the primary field medic, Naomi Hart. He felt considerably less annoyed by the intrusion now.

The Captain took a very calm, almost overly familiar, approach with Tristan. Eichkern didn't exactly want to flay the man, but he thought containing the stowaway would be prudent. Still, he'd have to defer to her judgement on this one. The return to decontamination he was less thrilled about. Might have to pick out another outfit for the rest of the day now.

As the room began to empty, Daytona approached Eichkern for the weapons he currently held, to which the Deimosian returned them without complaint. "They're not really my style anyways. But don't worry, I only plan on window shopping in the armory, unlike our engineering staff it seems."

He smirked slightly before eyeing up Haulrruxyy again. "Suppose that'll be HR's job to clear up that misconception. Which... Would be the Captain herself I suppose?"

 

[Wing06]

Tristan felt like he was experiencing everything that happened in the medical room from outside his own body. So many crew members, the Captian herself. Threats of death? He understood the reasoning. He didn't belong and posed an unknown security risk to the entire mission they all signed up for, a mission he'd thrown himself into without anyone's approval. He snapped back to the reality of the situation once he was in the corridor with the Captian and chief security officer, who happened to be the same woman from the hangar.

The two walked on either side of him as the trio made their way to the decontamination chamber. Tristan understood their worry; no one on board would know he'd gone through a decontamination process only a day ago. A day that felt like weeks ago now.

"Tristan," he muttered, finally answering the Captian's lingering question. "Will all due respect, Captian, what happens after decontamination? Will you throw me in the brig or space me? If I may, I think I could provide some value to your crew if given the opportunity, ma'am."

 

[egglover]

"Is that so?" Tish raised an amused eyebrow, "Why are you here on this ship, Tristan? Either you're an interloper or you have a very good reason to stowaway on the blackbird - I would really prefer the latter."

 

[Wing06]

"I'm running from something..." Tristan began, "Nothing followed me or knows I'm here, but when I saw this ship, something drew me in." He sighed, "I can't truly explain it, Captain, but I feel like this is where I belong now. This ship is my second chance."

 

[egglover]

Captain Suleiman gave him an odd, almost knowing look. A smile graced her lips as she spoke, "I see. Well then, what are your skills?"

 

[FireMaiden]

Naomi Hart
Location: Fourth Deck Hangar Bay
Interaction: egglover (Captain Tish!) Wing06 (Tristan)
Mentioned: Pacificus (Daytona) druidquest (Dr.Haliday)
Naomi nodded when the captain agreed to come along. The solider didn't expect much to be going on actually, but if she had been called up to the infirmary, she could geuss it was in the very least important. Before heading off, Namoi would turn and close the vent gate on the off chance anything else wanted to try getting in. And then of course, the walk up to the infirmary wouldn't take long. But it would be done in silence as Naomi wasn't sure what to do about the captain. On normal ships, as close and loyal as the crew could be, there was always a disconnect between captain and crew. And given Naomi didn't know what to make of the other woman, the walk was spent silently, sizing her up. She did have high hopes though, but her optimistic thoughts were quickly overshadowed by the scene in the infirmary. "What the hell...?" Naomi mumbled, looking around the room at people she had definitely seen before. Except one, perhaps the stowaway? Her gaze shifted up as Daytona the popped out of the vent above their heads moments later. At a loss for words, poor Namoi was. She had seen many things but...well, there was a first time for everything.

"Right, escort," Namoi confirmed, briefly glancing to the bug doctor. Immediately she felt a small chill run down her spine, as Naomi was not a huge fan of beetles. The real bug, she really didn't like earth beetles, always got stuck in her hair. But, the chill passed quickly, her focus once again returning to the task at hand. The stowawy looked harmless enough, so Naomi didn't draw her pistol again as she stepped away, making a guestire for both him and the captain to move out into the hall to begin the short walk to decontamination. For a few moments, as Tristan and the captain spoke, Naomi remained silent, just listening.

Though he he said he was running from something, Naomi had to chuckle. "Aren't we all?" The woman said, glancing at the other two. Tish seemed to be handling this rather diplomatically, and for the moment, Naomi had no objections. Of course they'd have to watch the stowaway but if he was like...a spy or something, he was really bad at it. Tish asked another question about his skills, which Naomi let him answer before interjecting again. "How'd you sneak onto the ship by the way?"

 

[Wing06]

Tristan laughed sheepishly, deciding to answer Naomi's question before the Captian's. "I managed to get into the launch party like any other civilian, then from there, I watched anyone in uniform and followed a launch crewman into the offices and picked up this uniform. From there, I found a team making their way to this ship with supplies and told them to go find a place to watch the launch, and I'd finish loading the cargo...it wasn't too complicated, honestly," he shrugged. "I've been around ships like this my whole life. Knowing where supplies and tools go and where doorways others may ignore comes with experience."

The trio paused outside what Tristan could only assume was the decontamination room before he continued, "I am...was a soldier in the Alfen military based on Terran Four. I am a pilot, skilled with small craft and fighters, but can easily fly a midsize shuttlecraft if it came down to it."

His face dropped, and his voice lowered as the gravity of the last few days began to settle in. His mind was tired, and in a way, he was elated the crew didn't kill him on sight. Stowing away was, in hindsight, a horrible idea, but who runs up a gangway and asks the Captian of a vessel for a job? One look at this ship told Tristan it was important. The Captian likely handpicked everyone he'd met for their skills, skills Tristan would probably never match, and for all he knew, they had a skilled pilot on board that would take Tristan joining them as an insult.

"I was captured four cycles ago. My craft was damaged and pulled into an enemy vessel via tractor-beam. I managed to steal a shuttle from their hangar and make a jump. The craft was pulled out of lightspeed by what I can assume was a remote killswitch, and I chose to land on the first planet that came into view. The craft didn't survive reentry, but somehow I did." He sighed, "I know humans, like Alfen, believe in uncanny ideas. You may call them Fate or Destiny, even purpose. Crashing and finding this vessel felt like a calling like I am meant to be here, however odd and childish that may sound."

 

[egglover]

"I don't think that is childish at all." Tish said seriously. Then, what she said next came as a surprise to both Naomi and Tristan, "It sounds like you've been through a lot. Hart, if you don't mind would you care to escort our new employee until he settles in? Get yourself clean and checked out by our doctor, and I expect to be seeing you at dinner tonight."

With that the Blackbirds Cry had suddenly gained a new crew member.

**

A few hours passed. All those that were present for the stowaways capture had been informed of the Captains strange, yet absolute, decision. No doubt some of them, particularly Daytona and Matias, would be keeping a close eye on Tristan. She herself was not even sure if she should trust him - but the way he spoke instilled a spark of confidence in her heart. It just felt like the right thing to do.

Capriole had retrieved a fixed Chef B.R.D from Hector, and dinner had finally been prepared. The anticipation for tonight's celebration was finally quelled and the crew had now began to gather in the common room where dinner would now be served....

 

[FireMaiden]

Naomi Hart
Location: Common Room
Interaction: egglover (Tish) Wing06 (Tristan) - Open
Mentioned: N/A
Naomi furrowed her brows. "The Android chasing you was the security chief, Daytona. Once you're decontaminated, I'd appreciate it if you informed him of how you boarded." It shouldn't have been way to get on board. At least not that easy, especially for an Alfen. But she did have to admit to some sort of...was Naomi impressed? Maybe a little bit, just in the sense he managed to fool a number of people to get aboard. Naomi fell silent again as he continued to speak, explaining his situation more in depth. As the woman had predicted, he didn't pose a threat for the moment. There was still the obvious chance he was a spy, and part of a Spy's job was to trick those around them. Naomi would definitely be keeping an eye on him...which would be an easy task thanks to the captain. "Yes ma'am," Naomi replied, giving Tish a small two fingered salute in response as the trio came to a stop. Naomi would give Tristan a small smile, opening up the decontamination room before gesturing for him to enter. "You're gonna be really bored for a few minutes, but after that, we'll find you a room."

*****
​

After getting Tristan settled and releasing him to the med bay to be examined, Naomi would spend a little while setting up her bunk space. Clearly the woman had a roommate, but was unaware of who given upt seemed like whoever it was, didn't intend on being social. Naomi thought it a bit rude to not even introduce yourself, but she knew it would happen eventually. She would cut whoever it was a bit of slack given everyone had been pretty busy their first day. Once her rucksack was unpacked, Naomi would check in on their new employee, and if he was free and wanted to, she'd give him a small tour of the ship. If not, Naomi would return to the hangar bay to return her chest piece to her gear locker and finally check on the rest of her equipment for peace of mind. The situation with Tristan made her wonder if there were more unseen guests aboard the ship. Part of her wanted to investigate...but at the same time, that wasn't really her job now was it.

After a while, Naomi would return to her room to prepare for dinner. In passing she heard the words "formal dinner". Whether or not that was true or not, Naomi was not one to dissapoint. After taking a brief shower, she'd return to her room once more to get a little dressed up. In preperation of a situation like this, her father ensured that Naomi packed at least two suitable outfits. The first of the pair Naomi felt deserved a better occasion, so she went for the second. A pair of black, form fitting pants and a dark maroon colored silk blouse. The pants were no problem, but the shirt...Naomi huffed a little upon realizing she'd need to have the top three buttons left undone but...oh well. She loosely tucked the bottom of said blouse into the waistband of her pants, before deciding to add a few pieces of jewelry. A simple silver ring on each hand, small studs, and a silver chain necklace seemed like good choices. And, her sneakers. Naomi hated heels, and would refuse to wear them when possible, so they'd be left untouched for now.

Once the woman was ready, she'd begin the walk up to the common area, hoping there'd be a good wine to pick from.

 

[obscured_light]

As the crew began to file in, there was no chef to greet them. Instead, there was a feast for the eyes and stomach for all to see. Delicacies and wines and a variety of bottles, both human and alien, for the mixing pleasure of those onboard. Plates of varying colors and smells contrasted sharply again the deep red tablecloths and white dishes upon which they were served. The smaller plates were sides. There were human ones like garlic mashed potatoes and summer squash gratin. But as the crew's eyes swept across, they would find what looked like clear ravioli with sloshing amber liquid. Clear balls were stacked on top of each other like dumplings stuff with tiny balls of reds and greens. Tiny cups full of foam and bubbles sat around stacks of meat like steaks and bright purple chunks that were still steaming. A filmy texture covered a flat pan with a thick, light brown paste sprinkled with bits of sparkling blue. Fishes with fluffy scales and tiny heads, giant coiled snakes, sticks with bright yellow cubes.. And even more for the chef had spared no expense within the budget she had been given for the night... and perhaps the rest of the week.

"Dinner is served for canna-all!" Chef B.R.D. cried out as he rolled on out, followed by Capriole and their two tiny assistants. Capriole waved at the crew members arriving, holding a hand out in flourish.

"We will also be serving all," Capriole added as she motioned for them to all take their seats.

 

[Pacificus]

Daytona finished locking the stolen weapons away in their designated locker. He however, did not lock up Tristan's weapons. Tristan's weapons would be left out in the open on Daytona's desk. He wrote very clearly "Do not Touch" on a post-it note and stuck it to the energy sword. Daytona considered this to be a litmus test. One that he had used on several suspects before. He did not trust the Alfen. If the weapons disappeared, then it meant that the Alfen would have stolen them back and obviously meant to do harm. At that point, Daytona would shoot him on sight. The thought of doing so entertained Daytona's mind. "If that happens, I'll just vent the entire ship until I find his floating corpse." Then Daytona realized, "Ahhh wait, the other organics must also breath."
Daytona scratched that idea. It didn't matter. He calculated that Hart, Eichkern and him would be enough to take him down if they had to.

But if Tristan was smart, then he would leave his possessions be until cleared by Daytona or the Captain. In Daytona's mind this would be proof that he was of no harm, and could be atleast trusted not to kill anybody. The Captain had likely already talked to him, but Daytona wanted to conduct his own investigation. Maybe tomorrow, considering the days events.

***

Daytona was familiar with the social gathering that organics referred to as dinner. He did not need to eat, but he would show face and meet the members of the crew whom he had not yet all met face-to-face. Unfortunately, the android knew nothing of formality besides doing his job. He kept his tactical vest, sidearm and all his equipment on and changed nothing about his wear. Surely, the officers would appreciate his dedication to duty.
He took a microfiber cloth and cleaned his sensors. He also wiped down his frame with a lint free cloth and applied a liberal coating from a tin labeled "Rust-oleum: Automotive Clear Coat (High-Gloss) for hoverbikes and repulser sleds.". The substance gave his paneling a very clean and respectable sheen. Much like the bulkheads of the Blackbird. He departed his quarters and made for the crew's mess.

 

[PiePillager]

Atuk'Kuta exited the elevator and crawled along the walls to the ceiling and upon entering the dining room, he descended down to the floor in a similar fashion. The food smelled excellent and Atuk could not wait to sample what the chefs had to offer. If there was one thing Ensindijee weren't shy about when it came to aliens, it was sampling their cuisine. Particularly those with copious amounts of sugar. Maneuvering around the table, the beetle made his way to a suitable spot at the table and gently moved the chair out of the way. Ensindijee don't often use mutch in the way of furniture and besides...he was fairly certain he'd crush the damned thing.

Looking down at the table, he also moved utensils aside. It wasn't impossible to use such things, but there would be no need. Rubbing his secondary appendages together in anticipation, he eagerly awaited the meal to be served. So far the only arrivals, aside from the chefs, had been he and....ah, that must be the Chief of Security. During his research of the staff, he had been surprised to find an android among them. Of course, given Daytona's lack of an organic brain, there would be little in the way of direct communication, so all the Ensindijee archeologist offered was a nod before returning to looking at the food intently.

Pacificus

 

[Wing06]

"Thanks."

Tristan gave a slight nod to Naomi as the door closed behind him. After decontamination, she'd been kind enough to escort him to his new quarters. Tristan knew Naomi didn't trust him, and he respected that. She was a soldier and expected to defend the ship from anyone who would bring ruin to the vessel or its crew. While Tristan wanted no part in causing more problems than he had already, he could understand her hesitancy to trust him before proving himself.


His quarters were bare except for the standard issue bed and desk. He didn't expect much more, no one had planned for the room's occupation, and he hadn't sent a box of things to be delivered to the ship. A crew bunk was a step up from a cell, and he wouldn't complain about the bare room. He sat down on the bed, finding it surprisingly comfortable. Having been aboard military vessels most of his life, he'd grown used to thin, stiff mattresses that would wear out after a few days. Some nights he wondered if the floor was more comfortable.

A small data pad blinked softly on the desk, "A message?" He muttered as he reached for the data pad. "Greetings and welcome to The Blackbird's Cry!" The video message began. It was an impersonal message meant for all members of the crew. It explained what the ship was and its mission. Tristan felt a sudden sense of pride and purpose hearing it. This expedition was his chance to escape a life of war, a chance to honestly do some good and make an actual impact on the universe around him.

"We're all rooting for you!"


The message ended, the video stopping with a still shot of hundreds of beings of all different species and origins. The universe was far from mapped, and the number of mysteries it held grew by the day. However, in this one still, Tristan could see a universe at peace. He shook his head, remembering he needed to join the crew at dinner. Tristan tucked the data pad in a drawer and went to the modest closet. Inside he discovered a proper crew uniform and a few sets of fatigues. The ship's doctor had taken Tristan's measurements while examining him, so everything was a perfect fit. The joys of having an onboard tailor AI, he assumed.


After donning the formal uniform, he looked himself over in the mirror and nodded to his reflection to calm his nerves.


A few moments later, Tristan stepped into the mess hall. The smells of so many delicious dishes made his mouth water. He couldn't remember the last time he ate more than a ration bar. He smiled at the Android Daytona and smiled similarly to the Ensindijee. He was shocked that he was the third to arrive, assuming he'd been running late the entire walk to the mess hall.

He found a seat near the middle of the table and sat down. The anticipation of the coming meal nearly killed his appetite.

 

[druidquest]

Dr. Haliday stood in the hall outside the door to the kitchen, listening to the muffled voice of Chef Halve’s robot assistant announce the opening of the dining hall. She slipped into the kitchen just as the kalkin’s own words faded, finding a place in the corner to wait for a member of the kitchen staff to come back in. Dr. Haliday doubted it would take long - they would be kept busy for some time, removing empty platters and changing the night’s courses as the Cry’s opening banquet went on. It seemed excessive in her opinion, but who was she to deny the crew their fun?

Dr. Haliday had no intention of joining them, however; “eating” was a… process, and she knew it would likely only make those around her uncomfortable. Besides, while she wouldn’t begrudge Miss Halve her aspirations, Dr. Haliday had never quite understood the appeal of cooked food. A quirk of her species, no doubt. So instead she would wait here quietly for Chef Halve or her staff to make an appearance, request her own portion of fruit and raw meat, then return to her office while the rest of the crew engaged in their revelry.

 

[Lord Saethos]

Was tonight's meal to be a formal event? Eichkern couldn't remember, the events in the medical ward had left him a little dazed and confused. For someone used to sharing close quarters with others, he had to admit that even he was surprised (and a little uncomfortable) by how crowded the room had gotten. Then again, perhaps it was concern over how it boded for the rest of their journey. First day wasn't even over and they already had dealt with a stowaway.

The Deimosian had stripped out of his Red Knight's uniform and showered quickly, not that he had been overly active today, but he felt it was a safe bet depending on the level of formality tonight. He ran his fingers through his soft, fine hairs, slicking it back and parting it with the cascade of water that came from the shower head. Eichkern couldn't help but recall what Aleksia had said to him once when she noted how sometimes he'd sweep a hand through his hair to push it back, that he seemed like 'Prince Charming'. He couldn't hold back a little grin that formed, she was clever that one, always knew what to say.

Once he'd finished in the shower and dried off, he went back to his clothes to decide what to wear tonight. It took a short while to decide what was most fitting, but he found it impossible to resist the call of his old Deimosian uniform. He might be long divorced from that life now, but he also didn't see a reason to be ashamed of showing who he was, especially when there were millions of good men and women who wore the same uniforms as he had.

Eichkern donned the jet black uniform, admiring the red accents stitched onto it as he thumbed the silver buttons that closed his jacket. By some standards, the uniform was odd at this point in time. The design looked like it was kind of 20th or 21st century Earth uniform, ancient and archaic at this point, but a point of pride for Deimosians. For a race so fixated on their present and future, it was rather strange to look to the past for inspiration on things such as this, but then again there was always much to learn from the past too. The closed collar seemed to have learned something from even further in the past, probably 19th century design there, perhaps based on some cavalry uniform, something that echoed an age of empires and conquest, blood and power. Once again, a strange choice for a people who's history thus far had been that of the nearly-conquered, the defenders against colonization and imperialism.

The Deimosian admired himself in the mirror for a moment, unfortunately very pleased by the cutting figure the uniform gave. Sword belt and sword were once again at his waist, leather boots wrapped around his shins and calves, now he realized why he'd felt so drawn back to that uniform. Eichkern smiled to himself once again as he left his room and made his way to the mess hall.

........................................................................................................................................​

As Eichkern walked through the halls of the ship, it occurred to him the uniform choice may not have been the best one. Good as it did look, it only became apparent after he started to notice some looks that, perhaps, not everyone was exactly comfortable with it.

That stung, and he couldn't help but feel a little bitterness at it.

How many Deimosians had invaded their planets?

Absolutely none.

But nonetheless, he continued to the mess hall, calm and confident smile on his face as he greeted his fellow shipmates with exceptional politeness and courtesy. He rounded the corner and, to his surprise, noticed the doctor standing by the kitchen door. She hadn't noticed him yet, so he gently tapped her on the shoulder as he walked by. "The food will get cold if you stand out here all night Doctor, you should come join us!" He continued inside as he left the doctor with his invitation, seeing if he recognized anyone in there yet.

Capriole entered the room, along with her robot assistants announcing the commencement of dinner. For all of his concerns, so far it seemed the chef had done a fabulous job creating meals for every taste and need, and he was certainly curious to explore some of those that were more alien to him.

So far he recognized few people there, with the Chef and Daytona being two, and one other exception. The Stowaway.

He walked over to Tristan and patted him on the shoulders. "Good to see you again. How are you settling in so far?" He asked in a friendly tone. Whether Eichkern was trying to be intimidating or genuinely friendly was difficult to discern, it required one to know whether he was a good actor, or could be taken at face value.

 

[DarKnight36]

Haul ate as politely as he good, one hand constantly bring a napkin to his lips to wipe the excess food away. He wasn't self-conscious about his meals, but humans and their ilk generally didn't like Zumolkans at their dinner table, so he'd learned to have some manners. After all, it was a big man's world, and he was just trying to fit in.

***

Matias patted Choon-Hee on the shoulder as he watched over her shoulder at the monitors. "Thank you for delaying your dinner, Choon-Hee. If you'll just humor me for a moment, I'm sure it will all clear up."

Matias rubbed a hand along his chin. He'd hoped to find Haul at his room earlier, but instead had been given notice that a stowaway had been found on board. The missing weapons, which he had assumed Haul had taken, were found. All was well, although Matias did intend to speak with both Haul and the Captain about the Zumolkan's obvious interest in the weaponry. It wasn't spelled out clearly in Haul's file, but Matias had performed a cursory background check on all the team members, as much as he was able to access anyway. Haul had participated in more than a handful of shooting competitions, using modified weaponry. Perhaps Haul could be put to good use upgrading their gear.

But that was not important now - no, Matias had received another message - this one detailing a warning to watch the scanners on the bridge. He supposed he shouldn't have been surprised, but it did leave him with more questions. Was his mother watching the Blackbird's Cry? Was the note from the future? Did his mother have some form of precognition? Or, perhaps as the first, these notes were not from his mother but rather some other person or persons?

Matias' eyes did not blink as he watched the scanner detailing the surrounding area. The ships of the Avian Expedition surrounded them. What was he supposed to be looking for?

 

[PiePillager]

Hector didn't wear anything particularly fancy to the dinner. He simply grabbed what was designated as formal wear from the ship's lockers and planned to grab a plate and slip off back to the engine room to run some more diagnostics. His usual abrasiveness aside, it wasn't that he was disinterested in talking to the rest of the crew...for the most part. The Blackbird and other ships among the Avian Expedition were some of the most state-of-the-art ships in the galaxy with the most state-of-the-art equipment known to civilized space...but could any of it be improved upon? That was a challenge he wanted to take up before they reached the black hole.

"What's good? What's good? Pardon me, Chief Engineer. Busy night ahead. What's good?" He greeted several crewmates, as he reached over and made himself a couple plates to go. Taking a whiff of the food, he raised a plate to Capriole. "Can't detect a trace of slime! Good shit!" he joked in a tone that segwayed from facetiousness to genuine praise. "You too, lasagna," He pointed at BRD, as he took a bit more food to add to his plate.

Between his brief greetings, he to flickering glances at each of his fellow crewmates. There were some surprising additions. Races that usually kept to themselves let alone interact on such a wide scale were all present. The expedition...Tish really did take all sorts. ...For better or worse. Deimosians have a bad rep in certain circles, but to his knowledge, there were never any stories of them doing anything particularly wrong. Still, if the stories regarding their origin held any weight, he hoped more than a few questions were asked during the screening process. At least there was no sign of the damn parasite was here as well. He wanted to say something, maybe give the others a heads up, but...he thought better of it for now. Probably smart she stayed out of sight tonight. How anyone would be able to stomach eating with her present was a mystery to him, anyway.

Nodding in greeting a few more familiar faces such as Haul and the Posonid scientist, Mari, Hector figured that was as much mingling as he was gonna do and planned on exiting the main hall before Tish walked in and started motivational speaking.

***
In the distance, the Peregrine Talon soared through the depths of space in tandem with the rest of the Expedition. Its pilot was intent on putting it through its paces, however. No one would notice, Vaervin Katul's sneakily raising the vessel's engine output ever so slightly...Nothing too crazy. Just had to take extra steps to avoid collision as they passed through the asteroid field. ...that's what he'd tell his Captain anyway if he was asked why the other ships were trailing behind the Talon.

Snickering, Vaervin was all too pleased with himself as he subtly sped the Talon slightly ahead of the others. Until the scanner came alive, blaring a shrill alarm. But why? It wasn't as if they were in danger of impact from any of the asteroids. Vaervin had the ship's AI run a complete environmental scan, rendering their surroundings in a miniature holographic image of the Talon's surroundings in the front of the cockpit.

It didn't take long for Vaervin to notice the red blinking light buried within the crater of a small asteroid.

"Motion detectors..." Vaervin noted breathlessly as he accessed the ship's communications. "Captain, everyone, this is...oh gods, it's a bomb..." he trailed off as the 'motion detector' detonated, setting off a chain detonations among the asteroids on both sides of the initial explosion. The Talon was rocked with debris and hurdled backwards,

From outside the Blackbird's Cry and the rest of the ships in the Avian Expansion, the darkness of space would become alight with brief but brilliant explosions, forcing all ships to slow in their tracks to avoid getting caught in the blast range. Behind the asteroids, faint shimmers among the stars became more apparent as entire fleets of ships uncloaked their stealth fields. Each emblazoned with the symbols associated with various notorious pirate crews.

To find pirates in a region like this so far from civilization was uncommon, but not unthinkable. After all, each captain was given the warning to expect such an attack as it was likely that the pirates wouldn't be able to resist the treasure trove of resources and technology the Avian Expedition could provide them. But for so many disparate crews stand unified in opposition was unheard of. Their fighter ships dove in first, using the explosions for cover as they fired their opening salvos.

It would be only the beginning of the largest pirate raid in recorded galactic history.

 

[Wing06]

Eichkern's interest in Tristan took the Alfen by surprise. "Y-yes, I'm grateful to the Captian and you all for accepting me and allowing me to join the crew," he smiled sheepishly. Tristan didn't know much about Deimosians, but he'd heard many stories of their power on the battlefield and was sure some of the Alfen militaries had been trained by a few. Eichkern's presence nearly commanded respect, and Tristan felt Eichkern was owed that respect despite knowing nothing of him. He was sure the two would become allies and could likely rely on the other in battle. However, Tristan hoped that the Blackbird's cry would take him as far from the battlefields of his past as physically and mentally possible.

 

[Pacificus]

Daytona returned Atuk'Kuta's nod. "Evenin'." He greeted, then took a seat. He leaned backwards into the chair and balanced it on its two back legs.
Androids, of course, did not eat. But Daytona would busy himself by plucking a toothpick from a small dispenser and wedging it into a thin gap in his front plate; where his mouth would be if he had one.

A few crew had trickled in after he sat down.
The Stowaway and Eichkern. Incapable (and unwilling) of smiling back, Daytona only tracked Triston with his sensors. The Android equivalent to a blank stare. Eichkern was of more interest to the automaton. The Deimosian's uniform sported a number of medals and commendations. Daytona didn't know what any of the alien symbols meant, but the man had obviously achieved more than his record had stated. Daytona pondered then asked, "Eichkern, what motivates a Red Knight to go on an exploratory mission?" He asked. "If you don't mind my asking."

Lord Saethos

 

[DarKnight36]

Matias calmly activated the red alert for the ship, grabbing a headset as he did and slipping it on. Clearing his throat, Matias spoke clearly.

"Attention all crew, this is your First Officer speaking. There is a large force of what appears to be enemy ships approaching. I need everyone at battle readiness immediately. We are not a battleship so I don't expect us to be doing the lion's share of the fighting, but it would be foolish not to be prepared." He paused. "Thank you."

He clicked the comms shut and turned back to Choon-Hee. "Contact the rest of the fleet. We've got precious minutes. I only hope we're ready."

***

Haul glared at the red alert blaring in his eyes, and politely cleared the rest of his plate into his trash disposal of a mouth before hopping down from his chair and scurrying towards engineering. Time to see what this ship was made of.

 

[Sky_Breaker_08]

As soon as the light from the first explosion came into Su Choon-Hee's vision, she quickly grabbed the controls away from auto-pilot. The chain reaction of violent forces rocked the ship as she desperately steered to the right and away from the debris of the destroyed Peregrine Talon. Her helmet began displaying everything she needed to fly manually, just like back in her fighter days. She could feel the adrenaline kicking in, and she quickly pushed her mind to that almost meditative state where she could perform at her best. The Blackbird's Cry was a bigger ship than she was used to, but no one was a better fighter pilot than she was. At least, that's what she had to believe at this moment.

Wallace beeped, "Warning, warning, warning!" and sounded an alarm in the cockpit as Matias activated the red alert. Matias' voice sounded distant, but Choon-Hee heard every word clearly. Unfortunately, there wasn't much time to get out a warning to the rest of the fleet. The chain reaction of explosions had spread to around them and they were moving fast towards the middle of the fleet. If the AESS Condor didn't know what was going on by now, they were dumber than a bag of rocks.

A shockwave pushed against them, forcing her to fly dangerously close to the edge of the warp bubble. Choon-Hee grimaced. If even a small part of their ship slipped out of the warp bubble, the vast difference between their current time and space in the warp bubble and the time and space outside of the bubble would create a tearing effect in reality itself between the part of the ship in the bubble and the part outside of the bubble. This tear would create an unstoppable and instantaneous reaction that would cause every atom to be reduced to its most basic parts and to the rest of the fleet, it would seem as if the Blackbird's Cry had instantly disappeared. The numerous explosions around them were probably lethal, but leaving the warp bubble definitely was. Choon-Hee knew enough to take the chance on 'probably.'

Wallace shouted, "Warning!" and her helmet lit up a section too late for Choon-Hee to avoid. All she could hear was the alarm's "bwa-wee!" sounding in her head. She'd been careless getting this close to the edge of the warp bubble.

An explosion above them sent a shockwave that knocked the Blackbird's Cry hard. Choon-Hee tried to counter the momentum from the explosion, but knew the engines wouldn't be able to reverse thrust quick enough. They would be knocked out of the bubble. They were all going to die.

The explosion hit the ship hard, knocking them downwards. If Choon-Hee was a computer, she would've noticed that just before the explosion hit their ship, almost at the same time, mere nanoseconds before, the warp bubble created by the AESS Condor was terminated. No longer did the stars look stretched and distorted. No longer were they flying faster than light through the cosmos. No longer was there a discrepancy between the fleet's space and time and the emptiness stretched around them.

There were asteroids and even more violent, motion-detecting bombs surround them, however.

The AESS Condor had been hit by several large explosions and the rings looked damaged. The AESS Condor loomed over the asteroid field while the Battle Starships, including the Golden Eagle, Black Kite, and Grey Falcon, as well as a Leviathan-class Dreadnought were pummeling what seemed to be several repurposed fighters and battleships with the same insignia emblazoned on their sides.

"The warp bubble of the AESS Condor has been forcibly expired," Wallace IX confirmed.

"First Officer, sir!" Choon-Hee excitedly shouted to Matias. "Pirates attacking the smaller ships! They mean to take out the weak links and drag them away for their own gain!"

Her heart was in her throat, her eyes were wide and her fingers gripped the controls tight. She wanted to help with the fight, but their ship was geared for reconnaissance, not battling with pirates. Who knew what weapons or advanced technology they had stolen to be bold enough to attack the most well-funded and biggest expedition ever launched. She would not be reckless, she would do what her training had taught her about discipline and control. She would wait for her orders and protect this crew first.

 

[PiePillager]

Hector heard the alert from the First Officer sound off first and barely had time to react mentally before he was knocked against a wall as the ship was rocked by some sort of impact, presumably from the aforementioned enemy ships. Bracing himself against the wall, Hector wiped a bit of blood from his face. A scrape from when he collided with the wall. Thankfully, he didn't feel any worse...aside from his mood souring not only from the sudden pirate attack but from the fact that his food now lay splattered against the floor.

Picking up a handful of dumplings and what appeared to be some sort of alien fish from what remained of his plate, he quickly smashed em one by one, as he thought of his next move. If this was some sort of enemy attack, it'd make no sense to target them alone. Nah, these motherfuckers were after the fleet. Had to be. No doubt the warships were planning to mount a counter-offensive, but how many now flanked them in this massive expedition? And how many numbers were they up against?

Hector knew he didn't plan to die here, either way. Beginning a sprint down to Engineering, Hector wasted no time talking quietly. "YO HAUL, where you at?! We need to run up the ship diagnostics right the fuck now and check that hull damage!" Hector commanded, knowing the Zumolcan mechanic couldn't be far behind. As he ran, Hector took a moment to glance out of the windows of the ship to see bright bursts of light flash across the stars. The dogfight had begun and the Blackbird would be dragged into it soon enough.

It would take many aboard the ship to ensure they still had a fighting chance, but it was gonna be up to engineering to ensure they survived in one piece.

***
The Main Bridge's Communications channel suddenly blared to life. While one would expect this would be from a ship in the Expedition hailing them on comms to offer a warning or strategic advice against the oncoming pirate assault, instead it was an unknown ship attempting to contact them. The signal was untraceable, leaving not a shred of doubt that it was one of the fleet's assailants attempting to make contact.

 

[DarKnight36]

"Way ahead of you," Haul chittered, dropping from the ceiling with his tablet in hand. "No damage noted, the ship thinks we hit turbulence as if we were some jet liner." Haul let out a noise best defined as a snort. "I told it we were under attack, it's updating itself now." Haul laughed. "Software am I right?"

***

Matias retained his position as the ship rocked. Noting the signal, Matias raised an eyebrow but answered it anyway. Why not after all?

"May I ask who's calling?" Matias asked.

 

[PiePillager]

"I'm starting to wonder how any of the AI on this ship got approval, myself..." Hector muttered aloud, holding back an urge to question their captain's judgment on such matters. "We gotta get our shit together, real quick, you feel me? Internal damage, external damage, we gotta be on that. I got a couple bright ideas, how 'bout you?"

***

"Ah, if I may..." a heavily accented voice answered back. While many members of the Blackbird would find the accent unfamiliar, those of human descent or those more familiar with Earth customs would recognize it as Spanish. The holographic display connected to comms emitted a screen displaying the bridge of an enemy ship. On the other side was what appeared to be captain's chair draped in red and gold. A figure, armor-clad in crimson sat upon it, golden epaulets on his shoulders and eyes glowing green from a pitch black visor.

On his head sat a wide-brimmed hat, or something that was closely shaped like one, while a blade sat on his hip. Behind him, a pair of humans played the Spanish Guitar diligently as a crew of Vleeboe, humans, and Zumolkans alike both commenced operations on the ship as well as clapped to the rhythm of the guitar in the background as a Posonid woman, her tailfin weaving in and out of frame behind the crimson-clad man who was most assuredly the captain as she danced the Flamenco.

"Por favor disculpa mi introduccion explosiva..." the captain spoke apologetically, placing a hand to his heart....or where his heart would have been, had he had one. For while he was humanoid, his armored appearance was a telltale sign that they were dealing with a Rindikan. "That is to say, my associates, they...get too carried away," the armored captain shrugged. "Me, however, I would prefer things to be settled a bit more amicably. ¡Ah, pero yo divago! I must have words with your captain. Is she present?"