Revolt of the Outer Rim - IC

[Heartshot]

Rzaya

​

@Elephantom


@Coward


About halfway through the senior opinions, Rzaya had come to the realization she was staffed with very inexperienced personnel, almost exclusively so.


"Turn those into maybe a backup team in case the first one crashes, consolidate the damage with like uhhhh....."


*

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*

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Her attention drifted from the immediate situation to the horrifying thought of some sinister conspiracy. Anxiety began to tremor through the young captain. Why would she, someone with no background in leadership, suddenly be trusted with such an outrageous task? What was Yang trying to pull?

*"-several times but hadn't um - uh - due to them being below the surface, so that contributed, plus...*



​

The thrill of a rescue was knowing that if the target died, it was entirely her fault. She would know she alone had failed, being too weak to do what was necessary to save the victim's life. Here, being in command, was something she could not relate too. She was expected to take the shortcomings of others and somehow form an equation for success out of unreliable variables.

*"realize that uh this may be a bit much especially considering ours and your own, um....Captain?"*

​

Evidently, her apprehension was visible.

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*


"Captain?" Repeated one of the seated lieutenant commanders.


"Yes?"


"I was just," The man clears his throat before continuing, "Do you think that might make a change in any details of the mission?"


"What might change the mission?" Rzaya questions quickly.


The lieutenant commander looked uncomfortable having to say it so bluntly. "We had some special operatives on the ground in Dyrashir on a covert-op. They were taking down a uh -" He looks down at his his portable panel, but is interrupted by a soon-to-be-promoted ensign all too proud to remember a single detail.


"An anti-aircraft facility ma'm, the problem is we couldn't make contact. The nature of their mission could have likely required subterranean measures, which would strain communication" The Lieutenant Select finished crisply.


Rzaya's interest spiked. "We have a missing team out there? That certainly takes precedence." She hastily decreed.


"No Captain, I'm afraid the concern is that they may have already destroyed the facility, and if that is the case - and it wasn't completely silent - we would severely reduce our chances of a peaceful surrender from the Basilisk crew." The lieutenant commander swallowed after he spoke.


There was such an ironic stream of silver lining in the dark cloud presented before her. Rzaya was an amateur captain, she commanded a novice crew, had no battle experience and was just sent on what could have been a quiet political exchange, except prior to her command two special operative soldiers were sent to destroy a military structure for the other party involved.


The only good news from the entire wardroom meeting was that somewhere in enemy territory were two seasoned combatants, which was exactly who she needed advice from. Rzaya recollected herself and stood, leaning forward and placing her hands on the long table, looking at her staff before ordering a signal and recovery team be sent immediately.

"Find my commandos!"

​

 

[Elephantom]

Thomas Greene


@Coward


"Let's keep the aggro low over here."


He slowly muttered as he cautiously stared at the room, acknowledging Van's brief affirmation with a loose nod. He wasn't going to argue about the element of surprise over with Van, who he supposed was already experienced in such missions. The situation required diligent silence, and accordance with subtlety, and these were the very factors that both Thomas and Van needed if they were to leave the building with all limbs intact. The mission was rather risky, and Thomas himself failed to understand exactly why he even signed up for it. Maybe it was the false expectation of a more larger army, or maybe he misread the whole briefing file. Nevertheless, Thomas, beforehand, had thoroughly hoped that he was going to be sent in with more soldiers, although it was also quite beneficial that the soldier he was given, was a supersoldier. As in, equal to about a handful of soldiers, a handful of good soldiers. Definitely not from the poorly trained worker's army. Thomas was quite sure that their men weren't really trained at all, except just given a gun and told to shoot the first thing that moves. Which is always one of their comrades. Friendly fire casualties often peaked whenever they proceeded to recruit people in large amounts, probably because of the aforementioned reason.


Thomas was, however you put it, rather industrious, if not enthusiastic, whilst on his job, and few things deterred him, or forced him to retreat. Yet, Thomas was rather disgruntled by the sudden emergence of another. The scale of the mission was already huge, and the addition of another mission, would therefore, proceed to make the whole operation even more longer, and irksome. Thomas was eventually persuaded to view the mission, due to the relentless pursuit the mission window had unleased on him. All in Thomas' utter misfortune, before he could even utter the target's name, Van shot a soldier, as the shot's obvious noise ricocheted through the hallway. He briefly glanced at the body, before looking at Van, and then at his gun. Various shouts from afar could be heard, and so was the blaring alarm.


The mission's stealth factor had been flushed down the toilet. Abruptly.


"Damn it. We're gonna have to shoot out way from here."


Thomas stated, annoyance present in his tone. He quickly adopted a more tense stance, before cautiously making his way towards the door, in case others tried to make way. He carefully peeked around the corner, and as luck would have it, a bullet suddenly shot past Thomas' face, missing by an inch or so. The thrill and vigour of claustrophobic, urban warfare returned to Thomas, as he quickly backed down before the opposition could clumsily shoot at him again.


Thomas, worn out from the various close shaves he had in the past, and he had now, sighed in utter weariness, mumbling something about the worker's army being dumb.


Quickly emerging from his cover, Thomas took a stupidly risky blind shot at the enemy, who dropped instantly. As if the soldiers weren't dumb enough, said dead person had attempted to try to reach the room he was formerly situated in, and lacked both wariness and a correct estimation of his adversary. The soldier really emphasized the problem of the worker's army. He silently muttered a series of curses, before looking over at Van.


"Lead the way, Van. We gotta get to the AA facility, before the UCM decides to nuke the whole base."

 

[Coward]

Van


Anti-Anti Aircraft, ex-subtle commando operation.


@Elephantom


Van glanced between the new corpse and the officer, attempted some kind of chastened expression. Normally he was better at this, but cold adrenaline had ruined his ability to fake a lucy response. The air smelled of blood. "Yeah... sorry, sir." The apology didn't match the edge of a sharp smile, the flicker of reflective membrane as his eyes scanned towards the door.


Things were finally starting to get interesting. Along with Greene he moved up, glanced around the corner. He might have said something else, but the crackle of gunfire made him shrink back into cover. Before he had to do anything the other man had already dropped the guy, leaning out to put shot right in his chest. Van's eyes narrowed, pleased. Maybe the officer wouldn't die.


At the order he made an affirming noise, cheerily picking his way over the two bodies. The two were armed with twenty-year old reclaimed shit, arranged more like an ant-trail than soldiers.


"A-grade," he agreed, grinning. "Guess they don't teach warfare at Pitchfork Academy."


Passing them into an open corridor he crept up fast, itching at the lack of cover.


There was more evidence of high-quality tactics when a couple of guys leaned out of a side door. Van was standing between two blank concrete walls, so he just shot the first one in the chest. The other had let off one wildly inaccurate round at the pair, but stumbled back rather than trying again.


Van sprinted a couple steps until he could see him again, watched his face go all confused at being found. Two more shots.


----


They reached target surprisingly fast, mainly because there was nowhere to stop. Just bland concrete and steel, bare catwalks, more corridors. By the time they were at the battery Van was panting harshly through grit teeth. He'd managed not to get properly shot, somehow, but blood slowly trickled down to his chest from a graze on the side of his neck. That was embarrassing.


Behind the next set of doors was the hair-raising thrum that could only be a Redfield, ceiling that could open to bare sky. He glanced through a narrow window, back to Greene.

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

Kamille 'Slip' Ardent

​

"Well this is going to be fun~" Kamille muttered to herself, double clicking her comm module to show that her comms are on the up and up. She did one last check of her jump pack and rifle while glancing up at Laney. Kamille couldn't help but chuckle at Laney's little joke about turning into a human pancake.


"You know, at this height, speed and terrain, its more like a grated cheese then a pancake, Lady! Do take care of the Captain while I'm gone okay~?" Kamille cheekily replied, adding a little impish wink. Any form of reply was interrupted by the opening of the hatch door. The cool blast of wind was refreshing for Kamille. Sure, feeling the Gs as she pulled crazy stunts or speeds in a fighter is fun but feeling the wind blow past you while flying is a real treat. It made her wonder if this is what birds feel while flying or even what those ancient WWI pilots felt as they battled it out in rickety biplanes.





"Any second now sniping buddy.... Aaaaany second now..." Kamille gleefully muttered to no one in particular, a wide smile curling on her lips.


@Archie @Tarmagon @Nerdork @Misuteri Kenshi

 

[Heartshot]

Rzaya

Rzaya appoints a temporary relief to govern the helm of Incirlik, while she volunteers her expertise to retrieve two special operatives, who she believes can aid in hunting Basilisk.
​

@Elephantom


@Coward


As the atmosphere gasps, Rzaya awaits the powerful vacuum sound that follows a shuttle firing from its host vessel. She focuses her attention towards her toes, away from the simulated hollow of the shuttle's cap. With only her two feet in view, the young captain begins to reflect on the past 20 minutes. There was such a fuss over her leaving the Incirlik she couldn't help but recollect it. While she was uneasy of leaving such an unskilled crew to face the possible odds of a savage pirate vessel, it was the desire to rescue life that plummeted her shuttle into the atmosphere of Dyrashir.

The daring captain was ripped back into reality at the leveling of her shuttle. Rzaya flips upright, an impressive feat considering not just her survival gear vest but the entire atmospheric ensemble, down to the vapor valve sealing system her helmet visor harbored. She was entirely used to the effects of all the added gear upon her body. Upon stabilizing her stance, Rzaya quickly hammers the door release button, simultaneously triggering a rescue beacon while opening the shuttle door. She stands firmly in the center of the landing platform gazing at the horizon, expecting the two skilled warriors she so desperately needed.

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Jonathan Knights





Jonthatan heaved a sigh. His favourite friend, boredom, had struck again. He still hadn't moved an inch qfter finishing his small inquirys on the ships capabilities, leaving him more or less happy with the weapons that the shuttle had. "Better than none" He muttered, still managing a smile underneath his helmet.


Of course at this point, everyone in the PD station was probably sleeping or just talking their mouths off about their wives or girlfriends. Things like these didn't exactly bother him when talking about the others. Just when they were talking about him, even when in a group talk, he would tense up, hiding away from the question or discussion. He saw it as an intrusion.


So he sat there, hands behind his head, relaxed and enjoying his somewhat silence that surrounded him. Hopefully they would shut up so he could some sleep in order to plan where he would go next. Hopefully.

 

[Tarmagon]

Arven Steiger


A clandestine meeting in the Ardakul mountains and emergency transit to the Corvette Megarea.





Precisely at the one minute mark Laney's voice came over the inter-ship reporting readiness to drop, then thirty seconds later a red warning icon told him the assault hatch was open, waiting to disgorge their snipers.


"Nice to be working with professionals," Arven thought, lowering the shuttle to ten meters above the canyon floor. Ahead, the ground sloped sharply upwards, rising to a high summit marked by the water tower that Captain Ayase had chosen for his over-watch position. Easing the throttle forward, Arven increased the shuttles speed, watching the slope rush towards them. Just as an outside observer would have thought the shuttle's nose was about to plow into the hillside, Arven lifted the shuttle, pointing the nose straight up the hill even as he throttled back, letting the shuttle rise on momentum alone. Twisting the stick as he leaned into the rudder, Arven forced the nose of the shuttle around to starboard, even as its momentum carried it up the hill. In moments, the shuttle was flying sideways up the hill, nearly perfectly in-line with the water tower at the summit. A countdown superimposed itself on his HUD, five seconds counting down with what seemed glacial slowness as he fought to keep the shuttle steady. He never felt the minor jolts as the snipers deployed, but the sudden disappearance of the open hatch indicator with a bare two seconds left on the countdown hit him like a physical jolt. Opening the throttle, he jinked the shuttle away from the approaching water tower, cresting the hill and immediately dropping into the wide valley beyond.


"I hope everyone had their restraints tight," he mused. "That little maneuver must have been, exciting in the hold without proper troop braces."


Since there had been no cries of pain over the comm circuits, he assumed everyone was alright, and turned his attention to the ships lined up in a neat row along the valley ahead. A sleek fighter, its hull gleaming with the iridescence of a dragonfly's wing, held pride of place in the center of the valley. Beside it sat a lifter pallet with four long, grey shapes atop it. About fifty yards behind the fighter sat an Artemis class cargo shuttle, carefully positioned so that its single auto-cannon was pointed away from the approach vector Arven's flight-path dictated. It seemed to be a deliberate gesture designed to put them at ease, just as the obviously sealed and slung weapons the group of about five people milling around the fighter carried said this was to be a peaceful meeting.


'So far, so good." Arven thought, slowing the shuttle to the pace of a fast walk as it approached the valley floor. After a moments consideration, he allowed the shuttle to drift to within twenty five yards of the fighter before spinning it in place so that the rear hatch pointed towards the fighter and pallet of decoy drones. It was a deliberate act, pointing his shuttle's weapons away from the meeting, just as the others had done with their own shuttle. Unlike the Artemis though, the rear of the Trojan was ringed with thermal lances in case the breacher missiles didn't quite get the job done. Arven had chosen his distance with care.


"Overwatch, maintain observation. Fire only if myself or the shuttle takes fire." he sent over the secure channel, then switched to the inter-ship. "All personnel remain on station. Observation only at this time. Safe your weapons, but keep the feeds energized. Two personnel report to the rear assault hatch to act as guards."


Settling the shuttle onto its landing skids, Arven opened the rear hatch remotely before removing his helmet and making his out of the cockpit. A brief nod to the two figures who had stationed themselves at the hatch, then he was striding towards the group that had begun to make their way towards his shuttle as soon as it had settled. Arven kept his hands clear of his holstered pistols as he walked forward, noting that the three men and two women walking towards him were conspicuously doing the same. One face looked, familiar. As they closed to easy conversational distance about half way between the fighter and the assault shuttle Arven saw recognition spark in the eyes of the man he thought he knew.


"Blackout Steiger," the man boomed. "I should have known."


The voice was distinctive, even if the face was now sporting a massive beard.


"Skippy Drenson," Arven replied with a grin, chuckling as the other man winced at the word 'Skippy'. "I haven't seen you since the Hammer."


"Skippy?" one of the women said, staring at the man as if he had grown horns. "Skippy?!"


"Dammit Arven, now you've done it." Skippy said with a growl. "You just had to use that old handle, didn't you?"


"You earned it Marc," Arven said with a grin. "Five atmospheric skip offs in a row before you got the hang of re-entry."


Marc growled again, but there was a huge grin peeking out from under his beard, and he stepped forward to clasp forearms with Arven.


"It's good to see you Arven. I'd love to hear all about what you've been up to, but we're on a tight schedule here, just like you. You've got something for us?"


Arven held up his tablet, letting the authorization code flow across its face momentarily.


"Just as soon as I receive the authorization codes for that little beauty," he said, admiring the fighter. "Do I want to know where she came from?"


"Strictly legit," Marc replied, holding up his tablet in turn to show Arven the hull number and authorization codes on his display. "Jenny here flew her in from Zulmore, straight off the production line."


The woman who had spoken up at Marc's handle smiled and nodded to Arven, though she remained quiet.


"Simultaneous transmission?" Arven asked, holding his tablet up to Marc's.


"Best way to do business," Marc replied, holding his own tablet up. The two tablets chirped and bleeped at each other for a few seconds, transferring who knew how much encrypted information and decryption keys, but eventually both were satisfied. The credit authorization appeared on Marc's tablet, and the activation codes for the fighter appeared on Arven's. Marc grinned, and was opening his mouth to say something when a shrill wail split the air, seeming to come from everywhere. The quiescent fighter, the transport shuttle, and the assault shuttle all wailed like lost souls, while Arven's communicator screamed its attention signal loud enough to cause actual pain. From the winces of everyone else, Arven knew they must be receiving the same kind of alert. After a few, painful seconds the alarm subsided, but what replaced it chilled Arven's blood.


"Attention. This is Ardakul Civic Command. The forces in orbit over Dyrashir have commenced a general bombardment of the inhabited areas. Antimatter weaponry is being employed. All civilians are to evacuate population centers as soon as possible. All ships are to lift as soon as physically possible. Attention. This is..."


The message looped, but Arven wasn't listening.


"Overwatch! Mission abort!" he snapped out as he keyed his communicator. "Get to the shuttle as fast as humanly possible. Kamille, get the fighter in the air and follow me back to the Meg!"


Swapping to the general frequency he continued to rap out orders.


"Everyone on the shuttle, out here now! Get this pallet into the cargo bay and secured. You have two minutes, then I'm lifting!"


Marc was barking out similar orders to his people, who were starting to bolt back towards the Artemis.


"It wasn't supposed to be this way," Marc muttered once his people were in motion. "The Sol-Ec's promised there wouldn't be any kind of atrocities."


Marc looked up to see Arven staring at him, mouth agape and shrugged.


"There's no profit in a massacre," he said. "The Sol-Ec's knew that. That's why the merc's are sitting this out. They've been paid to. There's no reason for this insanity.


"You... what?" Arven managed to stutter, shock reflected on his face.


"C'mon Arven," Marc said with a grimace. "It's inevitable. The Sol-Ec's knew it, so they decided to make a profit and minimize bloodshed. Why do you think the merc's aren't fighting with the GWA?"


Before Arven could frame a reply, one of Marc's people called from the transport shuttle.


"Ready to lift!"


"Take care Arven," Marc said as he turned to go. "Choose the right side."


With that, Marc sprinted to his shuttle, which lifted immediately in a cloud of dust.


Arven didn't remember much of the next half hour. The loading of the decoy missiles, Kamille powering up the fighter and following behind the shuttle as it carved an incandescent hole through the air at full thrust on its return to Ardakul spaceport, all vanished into a blur as his mind replayed Marc's comments over and over. 'The Sol-Ec's knew it...... They knew...'


Arven found himself standing by the shuttle, watching as crews frantically unloaded the decoys and prepped the shuttle for storage in the Meg's hold. Kamille had docked the fighter expertly into the Meg's parasite cradle, climbing down to join Arven and the rest of the personnel from the shuttle as frantic preparations to lift went on all around them. The expectant faces of his companions finally broke Arven out of his stupor, and he looked around, blinking owlishly.


"Um... Welcome to the Megarea?" he said, wondering what the hell was going on in the universe.


@Archie , @Wandering Hollow , @Misuteri Kenshi , @Nerdork

 

[Archie]

@Tarmagon , @Wandering Hollow , @Misuteri Kenshi , @Nerdork


Cody Ayase

Cody just smiled at a woman who complimented him on his hat. He always wore this old ski hat on missions since his first, it reminded him of how botched that shore mission was and that he needed to take better care of himself. This woman he didn't quite remember the name of, but then again he was bad with faces.


"Thanks" he said with a smile as the woman focused on her HUD again. He was still wrangling with his mag boots before the drop.


The process of landing on the planet was routine: with mag boots, he could generate an inverse pulse to the planet's magnetic core, creating a lifting effect like reverse gravity, coasting into his lookout point without the drag or high profile of a parachute, not to mention its wind susceptibility. The landing was a bit rough, but he quickly got ahold of himself and aimed his rifle at the designated meeting spot. His job, or so it would turn out, wouldn't be as smoothly executed as he desired.


"Captain Ayase" page a voice on his headset. he flinched and slammed the thing with his gloved right hand - nobody on a shore mission could page him except his commanding officer!


But then he remembered ,for this mission, serpents' will software didn't recognize Steiger as his C.O.


"Sir what's the issue, I have to overwartch a drop" Cody said as quickly as he could to avoid being interrupted.


"Son," the hoarse voice of a middle aged man who'd been on too many industrial and clouded worlds for comfort addressed. This had to be General Silas, the top commander for all of Serpent's will, a company with around 4,500 members and affiliates. Only he talked to his commission officers that way, no matter how old they were. Cody used to like it, he thought he was special in some way, but he was quickly dispelled of all illusions after Silas sent him on a mission not kill a giant asteroid worm.


"Your overwatch can wait, they're not paying you for that"


"No, sir, but Konig refused to let me onto the ship"


"Precisely the problem" Silas said, there was a hint of pensiveness in his voice that didn't make Cody comfortable.


"Konig isn't as incompetent as people make him out to be, ti's all a show, an act. I heard the man even takes juvinient drugs but puts on wrinkles for makeup so he seems more anti-corporate. In any case, he knew the true nature of your mission, he intercepted you and all other mercs sent for the same purpose and redirected you to be... what, PD teams? For some insignificant corvette he hired last minute to "escort" his ship. Escort a stealth ship? Since when did that ever happen?" Silas asked.


"You're saying..." Cody started, but he was interrupted before he could finish his deduction.


"You were sent on a sabotage mission, but we couldn't send your orders to you early without the merchants guild finding out through the overcomm and the ways they have to breach it"


Cody squinted


"Sabotage the Basilisk?"


"Exactly. Look, Cody, I wish I could have filled you on, but we have 45 commissioned officers in this company, and if we told everyone, the secret would leak. There isn't going to be a war, there's barely going to be a skirmish"


Cody's eyes opened wide, but he wasn't looking through his scope at the meeting grounds.


"Captain Ayase," Silas said. If the general was addressing someone by their rank and not their first name, it meant he had to persuade them of something, and usually clear their conscience.


"The Sol-Ecs have agreed to a buyout by ORCA. In 2 weeks, the entire outer rim will be under corporate control. The only thing they asked for us to become shareholders in Kilicardoglu corporation was that we sabotaged their only opposi-"


"You're entering corporate space!?" Cody shouted over the intercom, his body boiling at this point. If there was any component of subtlety in taking up his sniper post, it was now lost.


"I know you must think it's immoral-" the General started again.


"I don't care about morals! What kind of work do you think there is for mercenaries in corporate space!?" Cody continued.


"Captain Ayase, control yourself!" Silas shouted over the intercom. Cody scowled, but he shut up as ordered.


"You're only alive when you're killing but right now you're only killing my earbuds. You'll get a stake"


"You probably told that to everyone" Cody said,


"Only the COs"


"There's 45 of us" Cody objected. He hated talking , he hated being objectionable, but this was very objectionable .Every part of his boyd revolted against the idea of law and order, and to live in such a condition? There was no way he could survive that! But there was also something else in him that said this was corrupt on a whole different level.


"Right, all the COs will get a share. You can take it, Captain Ayase, or be discharged. All your life you've been a cutthroat, don't get soft now"


Cody's back straightened. His rifle dropped to the side as he stood up.


"I'm not getting soft, sir" he said, this time more slowly, more calmly, more relaxed. He knew what he needed to do.


"I'm still as cutthroat... but you're asking me to stop" he said, before terminating the line - highly unprofessional conduct that would mean he was burning bridges.


He felt like he did in his youth in the slums, standing up to youth gangs and bullies and eventually trying to put together his own. In the swarms of trash talk before any fight, everyone tried to seem tough, heartless, ruthless, but inside, there was something more meaningful behind their words - family, honor, or dignity. Cody had been in the business too long to figure out what it was, but there was something within him he felt tugging at him, like his explanation to Silas wasn't the whole story.


Within minutes, an urgent alert came in.


"Overwatch! Mission abort!" Cody heard the voice of the


"Roger that, sir" he said, snapping out of his sentimental mood ,slinging his rifle over his shoulder as he triggered his mag boots. Accelerating upwards at over 40 m/s^2, he couldn't stop thinking about how stupid he was. All his life he'd stood for nothing, which meant the one time his blood boiled at an action, his superiors though he'd take it as he always did, and he was totally powerless to stop it, with no one he knew who would back him up. That, soon, would have to change.


----


@ToolorDie


Koris Arlington

Admiral Arlington swiveled in his chair as he viewed from the glass pane of the Invisible Hand the bombardment upon Dyrahsir.


"Dirty commies" he scoffed as his men brought in reports. Unlike him, an Alpha Morph, the first of a series of test tube productions created for the military, these Epsilon morphs were scarred beyond human recognition. Implanted with cybernetic eyepieces so large they covered half the face and with veins bulging out from the flow of nanobots inside their bloodstream, the dark-black eyed and bald new generation of supersoldiers looked like they came straight out of Zeithein Group's 5-dimensional horror movies.


"Sir, the bombardment shows an effectiveness of 77.2%" reported one of the abominations, Lieutenant Commander Reksold, or so he was named by the lexicon of some lab's AI program.


"I would suggest replicating the 2-layer bombardment strategy of the Battle of Kolug-Daan, your greatest victory" the officer stated.


"Great, they even know how to flatter" whined a red-haired boy who looked like he was only 16 with perfect, flawless skin and a white military uniform decorated with too many medals for him to be a real soldier on active duty. Kyler Drakonnen was 24, but these days surgeries and premature juvinient druggings were so common among the looks-obsessed a corporate elite that every one of these frightfully posh princelings tried to look as young as possible so they could live teenage dreams in their 20s.


Admiral Arlington ignored the corporate air fresh out of academy and addressed the 8 foot tall monster blocking his view.


"Defer all suggestions of 2-layer bombardment, that's a relic of the past"


"Yes, sir" the man said before saluting.


"2-layer bombardment is a textbook strategy" the redhead heir commented.


"Stop trying to look smart" snapped Arlington. The heir was visibly offended.


"Sir" addressed another abomination, approaching him and bringing a vintage-style cup of coffee. Arlington's eyes opened wide.


"Why... thank you" he grunted, sipping on some of the much needed drink: Arlington hadn't had his 48-hour energy shot for more than a week.


"It is my opinion that the enemy will send stealth cruiser Basilisk to aid in the siege" the Epsilon Morph began.


"And how could you possibly know that?" asked Kyler, cocking an eyebrow.


"Elementary" the cyborg replied, staring at the rich boy with his eyes - one mechanical, one biological, his lone iris so dark you couldn't see the pupil. Kyler, once again, was visibly irritated.


"I logged these files of all merchants guild commercial logs, you can see 3,000,000 international dollars worth of freight purchased here' he began, having a holo-PDA to the admiral.


"Who purchases 3,000,000 international dollars of freight while an orbital bombardment is happening in the only sublight-accessible port from Ardakul, and further when no ships with warp capacity were active in the past 2 days on account of our jamming?" he asked.


"Naturally we reviewed satellite feed, a squad of 6-8 men: unclear due to the particle jamming the mercenary guild is enforcing on the atmosphere, leaving Ardakul spaceport for an auxiliary port, where a Corvette was docked, registered under the name of Captain Arven Steiger, 8th generation vessel"


"That's the exact same vessel you ordered not to be fired on, Rear Admiral Chalabi" the admiral objected, scowling and recalling the precise text of Chalabi's last report with his genetically-engineered photographic memory.


"Precisely, because I knew it could be of value to us for tracking purposes. The only vessel merchants guild arsenal capable of carrying tens of thousands which simultaneously has cloaking devices is the Basilisk, under the ownership of Baron Konig, exactly 1.2 miles long at its widest point. Exactly 3 minutes after the payment of 3 million International Dollars is made, Captian Steiger takes off, and exactly 4 minutes and 21 seconds after that, a 1.2 mile shadow signature is detected on Ardakul spaceport"


"So....." Kyler chimed in. Once again, Arlington ignored him.


"You mean Steiger was hired as an escort?" Arlington asked.


"Yes"


"Who escorts a stealth vessel?" chimed in another abomination to the left.


"Someone who has to get rid of someone with tickets on a troop transport. Why would you hire an escort at the last minute, and have to send people over from your own crew instead of preparing the ship in advance?" Chalabi asked, his mechanical eye's lense refocusing like that of a camera.


"Because you have someone on your deck you suspect of sabotage, and need them gone..." Arlington reasoned, his eyes opened wide.


"Which means..." he continued. Chalabi smiled, rare for an epsilon morph, awaiting in anticipation the conclusion by his commander.


"That if we trace the false escort, we can find exactly where Baron Konig wants us to think he's going, then by tracing its signals we can find the real Basilisk!" Arlington explained, leaping out of his seat. He'd always had an inferiority complex for these new morphs, and was glad that finally he was thinking at their speed.


"We'll need a stealth ship... Incirlik" he thought aloud before tapping on button on his holo-PDA.


"Captain Steep" he addressed over the voice message.


"We have a new assignment for you when you're done picking up those... commandos" he started.


"You're to trace a new corvette, we'll give you the sensor signature and orbital location. Send inverted sublight signals to the craft, wait until something matches the frequency of the signals sent, then record its trajectory and send it to us. That corvette has contact with the stealth ship, Basilisk. Once you've found Basilisk's Landing Zone, deploy your commandos. Let them reap havoc, we're going to kill Baron Konig and end this war today!" he ordered.


"Remember, do not fire on the Corvette, track its signals, try to seem like you're on routine business. Hopefully they don't mind being followed"


Just as the message cut off, the hydraulic metal doors swung open, with a tall Cantonese man walking onto the bridge. Koris never thought he'd feel this, but he was relieved to see the only corporate elite who wasn't an incompetent pretty boy. But... something was different today. The dark-suited and well built man was hobbling from left to right, and didn't have his giant bodyguards with him. Yang was clearly drunk.


"Yang, sir" addressed Kyler, standing up as Yang approached the three in the overlook platform of the bridge.


"I've found the Basilisk!" he declared.


Koris at this point felt his blood boil. That ingrate pipsqueak! Claiming credit for something military men had figured out. This could not stand.


"Actually, Yang-" Koris started.


"Yes, yes I know!" Yang exclaimed, waving his hand dismissively at the admiral before turning to face Kyler.


"No you didn't find the Basilisk you idiot!" he scolded, his breath reeking of alcohol.


"The whole point of a stealth ship is it's supposed to be stealth!"


Koris's jaw dropped and he suppressed a laugh.


"Moron" Yang scoffed. Kyler averted his gaze and shrunk as if he was turtle running away into his shell.


"It's what the military academies teach now adays" the Epsilon morph Chalabi explained.


"The cadets just aren't educated properly"

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

Kamille "Slip" Ardent

​

"GERONIMO!" Kamille cheered as she jumped out of the shuttle. She let herself fall for a moment before firing off the jump pack to slow down her fall, powering up her rifle as she fell. She coasted towards the overwatch point and clumsily landed on the designated spot. She composed herself and quickly set herself up for overwatch and aimed at the meeting point with her scope. She watched as Arven did a rather complicated spin as he landed the shuttle, coming really close to the fighter. Something she was fond of doing herself but she couldn't help but whistle at the sight. Her comm module crackled to life as Arven sent his orders.


"Got it, maintaining overwatch," was Kamille's quick response. She watched as Arven exited the shuttle to meet their mysterious contact for the drones and the shiny, pristine fighter. She could barely keep herself from snorting with amusement and surprise when she saw their contact to be Marc 'Skippy' Drensen.


"Well I'll be damned... He actually looks good with that beard... Pssh, nah." Kamille muttered to herself as she continued overwatch. Just in case as they would say. Kamille started to grow bored as the business deal continued on smoothly. Her mind started to wander away from the situation when an ear splitting screech almost made her deaf and almost caused her to fire off a shot in surprise. Thankfully trigger discipline stopped that from happening as an alert message was sent through her comm module.


"Attention. This is Ardakul Civic Command. The forces in orbit over Dyrashir have commenced a general bombardment of the inhabited areas. Antimatter weaponry is being employed. All civilians are to evacuate population centers as soon as possible. All ships are to lift as soon as physically possible. Attention. This is..."


"Not good. Not good at all.... Antimatter weapons? What the fuck...." Kamille cursed as the message began to loop and Arven's panicked command came in.


"No need to tell me twice Sir!" Kamille quickly replied as she used the jump jet to quickly get to the fighter. She could feel the tension rising and the dread in her gut as she ran pass the shuttle and hopped into the cockpit of the heavy fighter, stowing her rifle into the small space behind the seat. She whistled as she used the activation code Arven received earlier to start her up. "Nice and shiny with bouncy seats. Perfect!"


"Hydraulics, check. Electronics, check. Radar system, check. Weapons, check. Engine, check. Thrusters, check. Flaps, check. Fuel, check. Helmet data sync, check. All ready for launch!" Kamille shouted as she finished preparing the fighter for launch and locking the cockpit shut. She warmed up the engines as she waited for the shuttle to take off first. Once the loading of the shuttle is done, it slowly took off and flew. Kamille lifted off and maintained a following pattern while breaking the controls in. Everything felt smooth, the trigger had the right resistance to it and the flaps were smooth as silk.


"We must have some generous doners to give a nice fresh fighter like this... I love it." Kamille chuckled as she followed the shuttle back to Arkdakul spaceport and to the Megarea. She carefully maneuvered the fighter on the corvette's parasite cradle and powered down the fighter. She grabbed her rifle and climbing down to join the rest gathering around Arven. Eagerly awaiting his next command.


"Um... Welcome to the Megarea?" Kamille groaned as he said that.


"Not stellar Captain.... Not stellar at all..." She said in a melodramatic tone to try and ease the tension.


@Archie @Tarmagon @Nerdork @Misuteri Kenshi

 

[Archie]

Dyrashir, December 24th
​

((Check OOC for the discussion about the timeskip. Since our last posts are unreadable due to the end of BBCode, we'll start in a new place and a new time))


@Elephantom @Coward @ToolorDie


"Its' your rock now" commented Dongolo Akiweze, headmaster of the solar Energy Guild as he looked down from the invisible hand upon the carnage below, the carnage wrought by orbital bombardment of 300 antimatter missiles, turnign the surface of the formerly habitable moon of Dyrashir into a frozen tundra, covered by clouds of debris blocking out the sun.


"The rebels are retreating to Ardakul, are they not?" Long Yang asked, stroking his chin as he looked with squinted eyes of determination down on the devastation below.


"We will arrest them, I assure you of it" Akiweze said.



"I want my shares now" he said. Long sighed, opening up his PDA and tapping a couple of figures, transferring over 3 trillion international dollars to over 400 recipients... most of all himself.



"The CEO will confirm this contract tomorrow"


Akiweze's eyes widened.



"You mean there's no automatic signature on this deposit.... that we have to have the confirmation of Odysseus Tellerman...." he asked, his jaw dropping. 2 more suited SolEcs behind him, having dosed themselves to oblivion with anti-aging drugs, similarly balked.


"He's comatose!" one shouted, a redhead who looked like he was just a teenager. Lorenzo Castigan, against his looks, was more than 88 years of age.


"Which is exactly why," Yang started, turning around and facing them.


"We need his son Dionysios to become the CEO by removal as soon as possible"



"Everyone knows the others in the Tellerman dynasty will never accept it. They just want more power!"


Yang laughed.


"Who said we were going to consult them? A dead man can't say no"



Before he continued, the doors swung open, Arlington entering with that disgusting, ugly, and absolutely brilliant Epsilon morph, the cyborg Rear Admiral Chalabi.


"Yang, rebel presence appears to have detected the movement of Solar Guild mercenaries in the upper orbit of Ardakul" reported Chalabi.


"Most ships leaving Dyrashir haven't descended into planetary orbit... but are headed all over the system. They're preparing for warp... they're preparing to leave" Arlington continued.


This time it was Yang who had the look of shock on my face.


"Open the radio comms to all top-class performers in the last battle! Get them on direct line warp immediately! I want overdrive pursuit, sensors in all areas mapped in a central HQ, 30 km under Ardakul's crust to avoid stealth torpedoes taking out our CC! Centralize all databases, have AIs give out automatic pursuit patterns, secure through metamorphic code detection!" Yang shouted, with Chalabi raising his eyebrows in surprise that this man, who he had barely met, a corporate executive with no formal military training, had some level of military intuition about him, unlike the other spoiled kids.


---


Of course, given the corruption in the military, it was the spoiled corporate kids that the Alpha morph Arlington and Epsilon morph Chalabi had to hand the responsibility of dishing out orders to. In moments, Van, Greene, and Rzaya were paged in aboard their vessel in section 12 of Dyrashir's blasted surface by the barely dropped voice of a young ensign.



"Hey guys, Lieutenant Kyler Drakonnen here" he started informally, like someone who had no military training whatsoever,


"Change of plans. 334th company and all those crewing Incirlik are..." he trailed off. The only thing about this cadet that seemed to demand authority was his last name, belonging to the dynasty with a controlling share in Drakonnen Systems.


"Wait, let me look at my PDA. Sorry guys, the admiral gave us all new HUDs a week ago, I still don't know where everything is..." the voice continued.


"Oh right!" he exclaimed many seconds later.


"You guys are to go to the moon of Zendermeyre, in the Gauss System, three leagues away from here. Lots of rebels are headed in that direction. Your mission is to wipe out a particular one of note, a captain that scored the only kill of a UCM ship in the last battle: Arven Steiger. Get no it in three days. Or four, I won't tell, I promise"


---

Cody Ayase
​

@Archie @Tarmagon @Nerdork @Misuteri Kenshi @Wandering Hollow


"God damn it" Cody grumbled in the Corvette's bay, holding his rifle, his combat armor bloodstained, as the ship cruised away from the planet.


"We f*&@ing lost!" he shouted, kicking one of the crates next to him in a show of emotion the rest of the crew hadn't seen from him. During the battle, he led the defense of the Eastern Barrier guarding Dyrashir Spaceport, being one of the few in the area with merc experience, but he was outgunned and outmaneuvered by 334th company of the UCM Space Marines, as were they all. Captain Steiger, they said, during the ground fight before evacuating as many refugees as they could onto the small vessel, took out a UCM frigate! Now that must have been a sight to see.


He slouched back down, realizing he was surrounded by people, some of whom, covered in dirt, were holding babies coughing from the intake of pollutants, dust, and ash during the battle.


"Sorry guys, sorry" he said, sighing before entering the cockpit, without asking. He was too disoriented to ask, as were most of the combat men on the ship, as they were intermittently whining, grumbling, or insulting eachother. It was noisy: the mothers and children were having a hard time, but Cody was never good at providing compassion.


He checked the nav scans. They were headed for the Gauss System, and the comm signals from other ships indicated that hundreds of other rebels were as well.


"Good move, cap" he said to Arven, dropping all pretense of formality.

 

[Elephantom]

Thomas Greene


Thomas looked over at the new arrival, greeting him with a cold stare. He attentively listened to his words with a calm demeanour, and a blank, although slightly irked, expression, his visual attention wavering from Van and the girl, to 'Kirk,' whose informality, and inexperienced demeanour, did little to reel Thomas into a more loose, agreeable situation, which was possibly the less likely scenario here, considering that dealing with other experienced officers was more within Greene's wide comfort zone.


"Mind your tongue, lieutenant. I expect a rigid allegiance to all regulations, and formalities in your dialogue, at all time. Please, do lay out your plans on the table."


He said, directing his now-crusty mud-covered hand towards the briefing table that encompassed a fair majority of the room. His words demanded attention and conduct, although his tone was infinitely dry, tinged with disappointment and bit of reminiscing; there was also a lack of exclamation. Nevertheless, he was compelled to make some overbearing, if not outright arrogant, remark, seeing his general rank-wise superiority over the young man, but he was subtly taken aback by the young man's last name, Drakkonen; yet he showed little reaction to his name, preferring to remain ignorant. The cadet's — or what he assumed he was judging from his incompatibility with a serious environment — voice, and stature, indicated that he had little training, which only served to annoy the weary officer, who highly doubted his ability to command, and had an array of thought.considering a possible mutiny. Ending discussions with an informal note, especially in formal authorizations and discussions, isn't going to get you a friendly pat on the back, especially when the person you're dealing with doesn't have a funny surname. Thomas may he loose like nothing during field operations, but he heavily preffered remaining up-to-point and serious during his more officer-worthy duties.


Thomas diverted his attention to the room he was currently in. From his current assessment, he could deduce this was the meeting room, an obvious point considering the room's designs and knick-knacks. Probably suitable for planning, briefing and such. The room was rather cleanly designed, and gave a firm impression of the UCM.


Thomas briefly sighed, taking note to make it as silent as possible, before proceeding to continue speaking.


"Four days? I'll be frank, we lack the proper resources to complete the mission in a quick pace. A week is all I can guarantee." He paused, looking over at the lieutenant with a discerning glare. "We'll need a portable habitat module, four EGVs equipped with weaponized molecular disruptors, and a sturdy Hawk with HP discharge turrets. And finally, a reliable squad, I can probably bring some from my own division, but it's your call." He paused again, a subtle hint of a smirk on his face. "Now, if we were to get this resources, we'll finish this mission a lot faster, but as I said, it's completely your call."


He finished, awaiting a proper response from Kirk. With the brief time he had remaining, he decided to glance over at his own body. In the heat of the battle, he received quite the few wounds, nothing to render him disabled, or land him in the ER, but it was still quite painful. He took note of visiting the ship's medic as soon as he get some free time. His armour, or more precisely whatever clothing it contained, was ragged and bloody. To top that off, his overall armour was coated with dust, dried mud, and other 'minerals' he might've dragged his body across when going through the debris covered mines of Dryashir. The experience was enough claustrophobia in a normal person, but he had previously felt the brunt of such events, especially during the third civil war of Aeris Prime, where he had to scour the war tunnels for the added advantage of surprise.


Thomas shrugged those thoughts off, instead considering to remain as mentally industrious as possible, to ensure that this discussion would go through fairly.

 

[Tarmagon]

Arven looked up from the command chair display as Cody came onto the bridge with a "Good move, cap." The merc looked terrible, his armor was scored and bloodstained, and the rifle slung over his shoulder looked nearly as battered as the armor. Captain Ayase had taken the entire compliment of security personnel down to Dyrashir Spaceport to bolster the defenses as hordes of refugees desperately tried to find their way off-planet. Megarea was packed to the limit of her life-support as Kamille held a maximum speed course for the Tychora Limit so they could start the jump to the Gauss system. 


"Why don't you go get cleaned up Cody?" Arven said with a tired smile. "Laney should have figured out what we've got to work with by now."


Arven turned back to the display, trying to understand just how they had wound up here. The odd greetings of 'Sir' by the crew as their little group had made their way to the bridge so Arven could introduce them all to Captain Lambert. Cam's call of 'Captain on deck!' as they had entered the bridge. Reflex had lead him to reply with 'Carry on', then the trip into the captain's day room. The message from Captain Lambert and Mr. Karvren detailing the Solar Energy Guild's selling out of the entire Rim to ORCA. The arrest of all the ship's senior officers, and the defection of nearly half the ship's crew. Somehow they had known what was coming though, and had transferred the title of the Megarea to Arven, along with 35 million, enough to cover her operating expenses for a year, in assets that ORCA wouldn't be able to freeze. Hold #1 held enough unpowered armor, not to mention enough man portable weaponry, to equip a small mercenary troop, and the entire security detail was among those crewmen and women who had chosen to remain aboard. Captain Lambert had left a message for Arven detailing Operation Stalking Horse, the plan to deliver the Basilisk safely to the surface of Dyrashir. Arven hadn't withheld anything from the little group, letting them watch the messages detailing the transfer of the Meg, the money, and the proposed plan for the movement of the Basilisk before making an all-hands announcement, making his intentions to escort the Basilisk to Dyrashir, then evacuate as many survivors as possible to another system.


"Anyone who doesn't agree with this course of action is free to debark," he had concluded. "We're going to be labelled rebels and insurgents, possibly even terrorists. Personally, anyone willing to bombard population centers with antimatter weaponry has forfeited their rights to any kind of judgement, and any kind of obedience. All they deserve is to be wiped from the face of the Universe, and I intend to do everything in my power to see that fate visited upon them."


No one had left the ship, and the Meg had lifted less than ten minutes later with Kamille in the primary pilot's position. Cam had been promoted to Chief Engineer over her vehement protests, and one of the PD operators had turned out to be a godsend. Johnathan Knights turned out to be related to the designer of the rather specialized Point Defense System that the Megarea sported on her dorsal and ventral surfaces. Arven had asked him to take over the PD crews, and their performance during the battle against the frigate Novent had been nothing short of stellar. Laney had stepped up and taken over the Logistics, getting the decoys onto their pylons, ensuring the ready missile magazines were full, and the main battery had a full load of penetrators.  Even now she was completing an inventory of everything Lambert and Karvren had managed to pack into the Meg. Everyone had jumped in to fill whatever role had been needed, and somehow, they had made it all work. Maybe, once they had dropped their load of refugees off in the Gauss system, folks would find a role they were better suited to, but for now, the Meg was running as well as a ship with barely 85 out of 180 nominal crew could.


"Captain," Cam's voice came over his earphone, cutting off his musing. 


"Go ahead," Arven said, keying off the display.


"I've finished my assessment of the laser emitters," Cam said, and Arven winced at the tone of her voice.


"How bad is it?" he asked, wondering if he really wanted to know.


"Well, we're at about 65% capacity right now, but I don't really trust half of the operational units. That little stunt you pulled against the frigate isn't something we can rely on except in a really tight spot."


"Well, we were outmassed by around 300K tons, with all the requisite increases in firepower that entails," Arven replied a touch wryly.


"I know, I know." Cam replied. "Laney says we have enough spares on board to bring all the units back to 100% in about 3 days. Since we'll be in warp for 6, I can have us fully battle ready by the time we get to Gauss. We'll get right to work. Cam out."


"Thanks, Arven out."


During the battle with the Novent, they had manually widened the focus apertures on the laser emitters to the point that they would barely ablate armor. However the spread beams had retained more than enough power to flash-blind the entire port side sensor arrays of the frigate, allowing the Megarea to launch its remaining two decoy drones. One had sped away, perfectly duplicating the Meg's signature, and drawing most of the frigates massive missile barrage after it. The second had trailed the first, only to reverse direction and broadcast false images of a complete salvo of heavy ship-killer missiles. The frigates turn to lock up the supposed missile salvo with its undamaged sensors had given the Meg an opening to launch an actual salvo of breacher missiles into frigates rear quarter completely unopposed. The followup shot from the Meg's main battery, a quartet of 3 meter rail cannons, had struck squarely on the section of armor the breachers had ablated away, and the relativistic chunks of metal had gutted the frigates after fusion plant. Kamille had sent the Meg hurtling through the gap the frigates destruction had opened in the besieging fleet as the assault shuttle had raced to catch up with Cody and his surviving security team, plus the final load of refugees aboard. One emergency docking later, and the run for the Tychora Limit had begun.


"Captain, we're about to cross the Tychora Limit." Kamille's voice came, pulling Arven back into the present.


"Stand by for warp," Arven said, tapping a key that caused a musical chime to sound throughout the corvette. "Engage at will."


Kamille glanced over her readouts one final time, then slid her hands fluidly across her console. Arven watched the main display as the familiar starbow began to form ahead of the ship as the warp field began to distort the very fabric of space ahead of them. Behind the ship another distortion was forming, this one a polar opposite of the one ahead. The Megarea began to slide forward, no longer propelled by her fusion drive, but by a slope in the very fabric of reality that she surfed faster and faster until with a flare of pent up energy, she left the space described by the equations of Einstein, and entered a space defined by her own warping of space/time. Gauss lay 6 days away, and Arven had no idea what they'd find when they got there, but it had to be better than what they were leaving behind.

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Jonathan Knights


Adrenaline, so much adrenaline. His blood was full of it. No pain at all was present. Luckily he hadn't been hit in the fire fight, which was the most bloodiest fight he had ever seen and the first one had been in. The coldness he felt around his body just proved how much adrenaline was circulating around. He placed down his rifle and and sat in the PD station, slowly feeling the adrenaline evaporate as the shuttle took off towards the next part of the unknown. He took his helmet off, moving his fingers through his blond hair, before putting it back on and switching on some music. "Chill music" He thought to himself, as he relaxed himself not sighing, not saying a single word as the journey continued. He managed to grab his backpack in time before everything went to shit which managed to calm him down somewhat. He pulled a notepad and pen from his backpack, placing the notepad on the console and zipping up the backpack before throwing it underneath the console itself. Opening the notepad, he found the page that he had left off on and continued writing. A journal would be the incorrect name for it. He knew that. When he first joined up to fight, he made his history bland as possible. Generic even, in order to forget about his past. Luckily they bought it and he was now on a shuttle and flying away to another system.


The notepad contained some of his new ideas of a PDC, mainly copied from an old system and improved upon. There were many types of PDC's in existence, spanning from the common simple forms to the more complicated and deadly forms. There was one sort of PDC that he knew existed but he couldn't find any trace of evidence or its production on any ORCA ships and battleships. This wasn't mainly a problem because it was expected of the ORCA to keep their new projects quite. But the fact that this new system hadn't appeared in the years that it started troubled him. "No way it would take that long...." He mumbled to himself. He wrote a few more ideas down, suggesting a possible explanation for the entire thing but it sounded more like conspiracy theory than anything logical. Sighing, he closed the notepad, thinking about something too far away to be seen yet close enough to nearly touch. The music kept on playing, it calmed him more than anything and he soon found out that the adrenaline had finally gone, making him feel warm again and slightly more happier than he was before. 

 

[Nerdork]

Celania 'Laney' Poskonova
​

Laney strolled down the storage vault that she was currently inventorying, counting boxes of food and recording the numbers on her datapad. They had 12 crates of protein supplements, 16 barrels of fresh water, 2 cases of liquor, and 43 boxes of peas, among many other things. Who needs that many peas? She thought to herself. Apparently the Megeara did.


Laney clipped the datapad to her belt and started for the next storage area. She could feel her eyes drooping, so to keep herself alert, she slapped her cheeks lightly, making a drumming noise. She hadn't really stopped moving since they had landed on that moon, and she looked it. To say that she was a mess would be putting it mildly: her boots were caked in mud, her armor, which was not so great to begin with, was covered in scratches and bloodstains (not all of which were her own), she had a couple of holes in her uniform, and a cut on her cheek that had, for the most part, stopped bleeding. Her hair was possibly the neatest thing about her at the moment. It was mostly contained in a bun, but that was slowly getting dissolved as she continued to run her hands through it, a nervous tic of hers.


She had already completed her lists of weapons and ammo, machinery parts, medical equipment, and livestock (one chicken somebody had decided to tuck under their arm as they were escaping the moon). Foodstuffs was the last item on her list of things to list. Somebody had been organized when packing the ship, and most things of a particular theme seemed to be together, though she occasionally found boxes of screws among the packages of freeze-dried steak. She only had one more room to clear, and a couple hiding places to check before she submitted the final version of the inventory, though she had already sent her approximate machinery numbers to the Chief Engineer. Laney sighed, cracking her neck to each side. After this she was going to get a hot coffee and a long shower.


As she arrived at the next room, she unclipped the datapad and got to work. It appeared that whoever had packed this ship was very fond of their beans, as this room was full of them. Over 100 cases in total, along with some vegetables, bags of rice, salt packets, and sacks of flour. She counted a couple of cases of sugar and a few boxes of protein and vitamin supplements in the corners of the hallway that led back to the bay, in which she had originally started. Satisfied, she sent her report, and then stuck the datapad back onto her belt so that she could lean against the wall of the hallway, letting out a tired groan. 


Coffee. Shower. She reminded herself, pushing off the wall to head towards where she was pretty sure the crew quarters and mess hall were located.


@Tarmagon@Wandering Hollow@Misuteri Kenshi @Archie  

 

[Archie]

Cody Ayase


Cody smiled when the captain, who seemed to be getting into his new job with all due clam, told him he should wash off. Cody only then noticed that he looked like hell, and his gun looked like a piece of scrap metal.


"Yes, sir" he replied, spinning and walking out through the red entranceway to the main hall of the ship. He was surprised by how many people now crowded the accessways as he made his way to the restroom and storage room deck, just two floors beneath. He was hoping to have a good wash, and a good shower.


Stepping in the shower after undressing, he left his dirtied armor on the sides and watched a trail of black and red leave his skin as he turned on the tap and unleashed a steam of hot water. It wasn't long for him to enjoy this, however, as only moments later, the ship jerked like it had had a seizure. It must have entered warp.


"Jesus" Cody muttered under his breath as he exited, only to see Laney there. He quickly slapped on a towel.


"Oh... hey"


Kyler Drakonnen


Kyler shuffled around and grimaced at the prospect of having to take orders from a man who technically outranked him, this captain Greene. From the video comm, it was clear he was scowling as he straightened his back.


"Of course, sir" he acknowledged. This man had miles more combat experience than him, sure, but miles less of a trust fund!


"I-I don't really have a plan" he said


"I mean I'm sure you can have all the stuff... I'll put it in a list and send it to you. Rear Admiral Chalabi just said you were to follow warp traces and replicate all traces. He suspects the enemy doesn't have any mines, so following them should be easy. Once you're there..." he said, looking down at his pda as he dusted a speck of dust off the shoulder of his pure white uniform.


"Oh, right, he says... he says you're not to take out Megarea, but eliminate all other ships. Megarea should be lured to location 74, 47 on the galactic hologrid by firing on it and running. That's weird, it's just an ice moon, and none of our ships are near it... or Solar Guild ships. Anyway, those are your orders, find a way to get them there, one way or another"


"-Sir" he finished, remembering his military manners

 

[Wandering Grim Hollow]

Kamille 'Slip' Ardent
​

I failed... I was too slow... Kamille bitterly thought as she chartered a speed course to warp away from the forsaken planet. Kamille's now battered fighter is sitting in the Meg's parasite cradle with a busted thruster and a damaged laser cannon. The thing is still air worthy but its a far-cry from its pristine condition when Kamille first piloted it. Her mind thought back to the previous battle. She was dodging debris and PD fire to get close enough to launch an effective slavo when she received a distress signal from a fleeing shuttle. Being a nice person and all, she pulled off the attack vector and attempted to link up with the shuttle to escort it to the closest friendly ship. She was just about to reach it when the signal vanished and the glare of a battleship's laser cannon beam almost blinding her. 


"I'm sorry..." Kamille muttered, her grip tightening on the Meg's controls as she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. It's a truly rare occasion to see Kamille in a grumpy mood while piloting and this moment is one of them. Keeping her eye on the engine output and occasionally checking the ship's vector to ensure its going where its supposed to go, she decided to let the autopilot do its job and let her arms rest. The adrenaline now long worn off, the soreness of her arms are now more obvious then ever. To be frank, her arms been doing lots of twitch maneuvering and had to even wrestle the controls a few times when an explosion happened a little too close for comfort. Not to mention that the left side thruster is busted, dodging just got a little bit complicated and doing Kulbit rolls made the maneuver skewer to the left now. 


"I need to get a grip..." Kamille sighed, slapping her cheeks to force her mind back into the present. She noticed that they were approaching the limit for warp.


"Captain, we're about to cross the Tychora Limit," she warned, keeping an eye on the data readout. Once she heard the all clear from Arven, she reached out and triggered the warp drives. Kamille watched as space and time is distorted for the ship to travel at FTL speeds and felt the initial push back when the ship first enters warp. Kamille remembered reading about how Einsteinian physics has no effect now and that warping is like a pilot entering their very own dimension of distorted space-time. A fact that made her both confused and amused. A tired smile spread across her lips, a joke in her mind.


"Welcome to the Slip Dimension people. Where Einstein can go ram a nuke up his ass and time is like spaghetti." She halfheartedly joked to those present in the bridge.


@Tarmagon @Misuteri Kenshi @Archie @Nerdork      

 

[Nerdork]

[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Celania 'Laney' Poskonova[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Should I have the coffee first or the shower first?[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] Laney mused as she walked down the hallway towards the bathrooms and storage compartments. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Without the coffee I might fall asleep in the shower. But the showers are closer than the mess... If I ever get my own ship I am going to install coffee makers in the showers.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]So lost in daydreams of coffee and showers, Laney only paused long enough to make sure the bathrooms were unisex before entering. However, before she could even take off her boots, the ship lurched as it entered FTL, and the sharp movement was enough to cause her to need to brace herself against the wall in order to keep her footing. The literal jerk back to reality also caused her to clue in to the fact that a man had just stumbled out of the shower section a short distance away from her, probably due to the jump to FTL. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px]It was even a person that she knew, Captain Ayase, from the shuttle. [/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]Although they had only spoken briefly, she seemed to remember him with far more clothes. Suddenly much more awake, she forced her eyes to remain on his face. She had a quick urge to tidy herself up, but the only clue to this was her fingers twitching briefly, as she knew that there was not much she could do that would make a difference.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=14.666666666666666px]"Is it a habit of yours to wander around without pants on?" Laney asked him, raising an eyebrow. She tried to suppress a laugh at his sheepish greeting, but her lips betrayed her and curved into a smile.[/SIZE][SIZE=14.666666666666666px] [/SIZE]


@Tarmagon@Wandering Hollow@Misuteri Kenshi@Archie  

 

[SkyHawk MK IV]

Johnathan Knights


He removed his helmet, rubbing his eyes slowly. He felt like he had been awake for an entire week. His mind was kicking itself for not getting enough sleep. He would sleep for a while when they hit warp, which the ship just did. "Great....better sleep now. Gotta keep my concentration levels high..." He thought as he placed his helmet on the console, making sure that the helmet didn't touch any of the controls. He didn't want a railgun firing off while they were in warp. Even though he did ponder what would happen if he did. None the less, sleep was the first thing on his mind, followed by showering, eating and whatever else that popped up. He relaxed himself, putting his hands behind his head, feet on the console again making sure that his feet didn't touch anything.


After a solid hour of deep sleep, he woke up, stretching and looking around. "Still the same old place" He thought. He didn't expect to be moved or disturbed by anyone. He got up, picking up his helmet and backpack and headed towards the shower. He prayed that no one was taking a shower right now. He entered the shower room, looking around. "No one here, that's good" He muttered opening up his backpack and finding spare clothes, identical to the ones that where covered in mud, blood and other objects he didn't recognise off the bat. He pulled out the clothes, stripping himself and throwing the muddy ones into a corner before placing the clean ones near the shower. He had a talent of going into his own world. It kind of reminded him when his mother used to scold him for screwing up clothes. He smiled at the thought before entering the shower and turning on the water. The water came down like a waterfall. A hot one which was nice to feel but a cold one was always better. 


After the shower, he wrapped a towel around himself and grabbed his clothes. Making sure that he didn't pick up the muddy ones by accident. He quickly changed there and then and strode out, carry his backpack and helmet. He had packed his muddy clothes into his backpack, keeping it away from anything else that might be important. He wondered if they could wash clothes on the ship but shrugged and quickly arrived back where he had left of. In his PD station, tired as hell and wanting to get away from it all.

 

[Tarmagon]

Arven Steiger


The bridge of the Corvette Megarea, in warp space.


Arven relaxed as the familiar shock of warp transition vibrated along the Meg's space-frame. Unless another ship had been right on top of them as they entered warp and managed to match their warp frequency perfectly, they were safe, at least for the next 6 days. Pausing a moment to settle his thoughts, Arven reached down and clicked the 'all-hands' circuit open.


"This is Pi... Captain Steiger," he said, his firm voice giving no hint of the turmoil roiling in his guts. "We have successfully evaded pursuit and are currently in warp for the Gauss system. All non-essential personnel stand down from action stations. Maintain minimum watch stations only for the next 12 hours. We need to catch our breaths people. You all did an exemplary job in getting us out of that mess the Sol-Ec's and ORCA dropped us in,so rest and recharge. All civilians, please remain in the areas set aside for you, and don't hesitate to tell any crewman if you have any kind of urgent medical needs, or if you see something unsafe. Anyone with space experience who wants to pitch in, please contact the head of the appropriate department or myself. We will NOT consider anyone who has family evacuating with them. They'll need you once we get to Gauss. I know it's crowded, but it's only for 6 days, and it certainly is preferable to what ORCA did to Dyrashir. We'll get through this, together, just like the folk of the Rim always do."


Clicking off the 'all-hands' Arven turned to Kamille.


"Transfer control to my station, then go get a hot shower and some food," he said quietly. "I know what it's like out there in a furball, and I know how I always felt when I couldn't help someone. I don't want to see you back on this bridge for at least 6 hours."

 

[Heartshot]

Rzaya dies of starvation.