Futuristic Silent Stars

[Harmalite]

Listening to the old man's testimony practically sucked the color out of Beya's face, and he only nodded imperceptibly as he heard impossibility after impossibility. For seconds at a time, his throat tensed up and his thumb hovered over the comm button to raise an objection, but every time, he realized it was pointless. The voice he heard wasn't deceptive, nor was it stupid. This man had meant what he said, and the fear in his voice diffused through the crackling comm device, a thick miasma that settled deep in Beya's core and tried it's best to vacate the other contents. He started fumbling with the comm device with a hand he realized had become so shaky and saturated with sweat that he momentarily lost focus with what he was hearing.

Come on. It was impossible for everyone in the galaxy to just disappear. To sink into nothingness at the press of a button, never to be heard from again. To just be permanently removed from reality? Where would they go? What torment awaited them in the cold, unforgiving, omnipotently suffocating depths of hypospace? Beya heard ringing in his ears; his vision collapsed inwards like a black hole.

The first time, he was only partially at fault. There were still people left to blame, too. It was one of those thoughts that was just too horrible to even take seriously, like the thought of your entire life having been a fever dream. It couldn't have been that. What a funny coincidence, though.

Get a hold of yourself. Beya went to move the pilot seat but quickly realized he was already standing up, and not for much longer. He threw himself into the seat, shifting it over on its rails to the data processing console and knocking the unoccupied, cold copilot seat to the side. His fingers jabbed at the screen repeatedly, which recursively blossomed with lists of files and directories until he locked on to a peculiar file, hypo_erazr.hyppm. A reverse pinching movement expanded it into a hologram filled with a nigh incomprehensible mess of colorful eigenvalues and curl vectors, surrounding a 3d model of the object. A highly experimental hypospace field generator converted into a weapon, designed to sniff out high entropy objects in range, the most valuable sources of data and technological sophistication... and just delete them, in the blink of an eye. The Void Club weren't the bad guys, and they made sure of it by specifically preventing the machines from sinking only the objects of the highest entropy: objects with intelligence. The machines were also tested twice. What if the failsafe wasn't safe at all? What if someone sabotaged the sabotage? A surge of "what ifs" sped up Beya's heart rate and breathing as if they were flowing through a turbine.

"I should have eventualy heard something from the other systems I visited after this all started. No, whatever happened didnt just break equipment. It did something to the galactic population."

The entire galactic population. Quick action of his neural implants gave him the answer that the energy required to send trillions of humans worth of biomass to hypospace would require 21 orders of magnitude higher than what was even available to the Horn of Taurus. Beya let out a huge sigh that carried the weight of the galaxy out with it, and he slumped back into the chair. The infallibility of the mathematics soothed his mind, reminding him not to make emotional excuses for something that wasn't realistic in any way. Beya showed a weak smirk at the thought that he committed an action that would classify himself as a Type III Galactic civilization. But the possibility still nagged at the back of his mind. Now, at least, it was business as usual. He wasn't satisfied with just knowing that it happened: a primal urge to find out *why* raged inside him, and it wasn't just because he was feeling lonely on the suspect lineup.

Beya's face perked into a timid shock when he realized that it had been almost a full minute after the old man stopped talking and he hadn't said a word, even though his thumb was glued to the transmit button like he was trying to crush it. He whisked the comm to his face once again.
"Copy that. We can talk more about this later, let's go give that guy something nicer to broadcast about. Engaging jump to hyperspace"
His voice was still shaky, but now with just a bit of that cocky excitement spilling out of it. He swiveled the chair 180 degrees to face the hyperspace console reaching down from the ceiling, half obscured by blinking warning messages that he deleted with aggressive fervor, for the crime of telling him some bullshit about the hyperspace comms that already made him mad enough three weeks ago. A large mechanical switch to the side of the console slid down with considerable effort, immediately sending the ship into a soft lockdown as it prepared for the jump. Beya glanced down at the console, staring with concern at nothing in particular. He felt like he was forgetting something.

He swooped over to the communication station, dialing in a new frequency. The radio dish at the top of the ship rotated sluggishly towards a seemingly empty point in the sky, where a speck of a ship prepared a jump that would have otherwise doomed it to an eternity of silence. Beya leaned in close, allowing the microphone to pick up his voice over the increasing noise from below deck. At a considerable fraction of a light minute away, he knew that it might not even reach the needleship before it's warp routine kicked in, but I mean what the hell, right? Might as well try to give the poor guy a bit of a warning before two ships appeared out of complete silence, they were going to intercept him anyway.

"Hang in there, buddy. We're coming to get you."

It was the first smile he'd cracked in 3 weeks. He glanced down at the burning wreckage of the Nightmare Regent, which was on a collision course with the blue planet. Hey, at least those bastards were gone too. He held up his hand in a mocking wave, emphatically mouthing bye bye! to what was quickly becoming an unknowable geometry that smeared past the ship as it left this cold, silent reality behind. If only for a moment.

Lyro Mr.Sandstorm

 

[IctoraPost]

.

Qana

The blood was the worst part.

It was everywhere. Dripping from the knife, trailing across the table, running down onto the immaculate floor. Trembling hands covered in red, she swayed through the doorway and into the place of disposal. The fluids must be swept away. The evidence must be cleansed. Out, out! Lest it stains. No, it had already stained. The once-brilliant shine of the white coat was now matted with imprints of colour, a memory forever embedded in the tracts of time.

As she washed her hands, Qana was already trying to make excuses. She didn’t know, did she? She didn’t know that the steak was uncooked. And unfrozen. Maybe the bloated skin should have given it away, but she was hungry, alright? And the broken heating really didn’t help things, forcing her to wear layers of clothing or else shiver all the time. No, she wasn’t changing the subject. The lack of sufficient heating definitely had a lot to do with bloody pieces of meat. Yes, she was lucky that the system wasn’t so broken that the chills of space could crawl into the ship, but still. Look at this mess!

She poked a tongue out at her reflection, then sighed. Talking to herself again. And not even speaking out loud – mental arguments were much harder to make into coherent sentences. But ever since the comms went out, she’d had no one to talk to but herself. The navigational system and the fridge weren’t exactly the most talkative people, and she hadn’t thought to pack a sentient robot in her Hypopocket. While she was at it, though, she might as well berate herself for not having a spare hyperspace communicator, or better malware protection, or a magic wand to fix everything.

Returning to the kitchen, she rummaged around in the drawers until she found a relatively clean cloth. It wouldn’t be clean for long. The lack of working hyperwave transceivers was mostly her own fault. Qana had been attempting to come up with a countermeasure for a computer virus that was ravaging several star systems worth of planets. By downloading it. To the ship’s terminal. With zero prior knowledge on computational systems. Short story short, it was a disaster. El Lobo’s own advanced antivirus systems managed to stop the program before it destroyed too much, but by then it had destroyed too much. Without the hyperspace communicators, she was limited to light speed for contacting the outside galaxy for anything. The heating and the fridge were huge losses as well – at least, they were for her. There were probably a myriad of other things that had been damaged due to her unthinking actions, but she didn’t know enough about her ship to give a good estimation. Most likely, the AI was already making repairs. Probably. Hopefully.

Dropping the stained red towel onto the table, she slumped heavily into a nearby couch. She could feel something pressing into her soul – whether it be regret, loneliness, or just plain old fatigue, she did not know. None of the planets or stations she had passed by had responded to her calls. Maybe they, with their lower-grade computer protection, had all succumbed to the virus and had all their communications tech rendered unusable. She had decided not to visit just in case. Now she was beginning to doubt her virus theory – the ships would still have been moving, not just sitting there like empty husks. And the program could not have spread this far through the galaxy, or else it would have been a well-broadcasted epidemic. Of course, if the virus destroyed all software, there would not be anywhere to broadcast from, but this still would not explain it all.

Still, there wasn’t anything to worry about. Even if the universe had gone silent for three weeks, it would definitely fix itself. After all, nothing could have permanently done something to this scale, right?

 

[The Gunrunner]

Tonos Borgh Patherborn, Hellion Station.

The airlock hisses violently, depressuring the room. The sound comes in bits and pieces as their auditory devices flick on and off, protecting the hearing of their wearer, until sound is made impossible in the area. A central locking system whirrs to life, rotating in place to release the doorway. Inside, the four squads stand ready. Their weapons were down, but ready; there was no need for total combat readiness yet. Still, paranoia was a soldier's friend. The door's interior gears pull it open, revealing the infinite black. It was only partially obscurred by the transparent white cover surrounding the bridge, protecting the group from an exaggerated jump. "Alpha and Bravo are moving across. Delta will take the exterior of the bridgeway while Charlie covers the airlock. All copy?" They radio their affirmatives. Delta's members move to the few 'hatches' around the cover, unzipping the ways and carefully pushing themselves out of their protection. A few quick clicks from their carabiners and they're sure they'll be fine. They give a thumbs up to the others, who continue their task. The transmitter wasn't too heavy, but it wasn't the most convenient device either. An unlucky member of Bravo had to have it strapped to his back, and each member of the scouting team had it directly wired to their suit. The whole thing was laughably primitive, and threatened to become very frustrating for maneuverability; the wires, though long, floated around unrestricted in the zero G environment. Sadly, it would have to do.

The two scouting teams move along through the bridge, using the hand-bars scattered throughout the length to pull themselves along. Finally, alpha reaches the emergency doorway. It was a small entrance the size of two crew-doors, but sealed with a non-electronic lock. This was something they expected, however, and two demolitions specialists get to work on planting the directional charges - A large square is formed with a malleable grey paste, run along in a thick line. In the center they plant a dome-shaped charge, connection four wires to the corners. A canvas is then attached around the chemical square to hold in the explosive. Outside the explosive device, four soldiers set the plasma drills against the corners of the doorway. The light they emit is blinding, but dies into a faint dark green against the polarized glass in the helmets. A green light flicks on the device, indicating they've made it through. "Drills are finished. Get clear." The men move out of the way, and the drills are carefully removed. The inner pressure of the room is released outside, slowly - very slowly - depressurizing the airlock. "This is why I quit the fucking marines."
"I thought it was the paycheck?" He coughs over the radio, visually shrugging as he holds onto the bars. "Well, this is one of the reasons."

After a painful amount of time, there's no further sign of pressure. The demo teams nod to their comrades and begin the countdown.

"Three..."

"Two..."

"One."

Silently, in mere seconds, the canvas glows a dull white and bursts outwards as it holds the explosive underneath. As soon as it comes, it dissipates, and the cover settles. "This is Bravo, we and Alpha are clear. We're moving in now." The demos are quick to remove the cover, and the others float inside. The door is blows inwards, and bits of metal float about inside. The squads finally make their breach, lights and guns made ready as they push themselves inside. "Alpha, Bravo, we are breaching now. Stand by." As they move in, a brightly lit corridor greets them. They push on through the airlock and emerge into the stark interior of the station. A few seconds pass before their eyes feel sufficiently adjusted to the white glare after the darkness of space. An initial glance reveals nothing unexpected - the corridor is reasonably clean, slowly arcs away to the left and the right with no end in sight, with several pressurized doors lining the inner side, and appears to be empty. Only the slowly blinking red floor lights hint at the gravity of the situation - that, and the lack of any functional... well, gravity.

The marines scan around the interior of the room with their rifles, beams of light running along the walls from under the barrels. The sergeant looks over the plaques on the wall, indicating directions to the barracks, communications room, and cafeteria. His radio crackles to life: "Looks like those assumptions weren't completely off; Nearest facilities are the Barracks, a cafeteria, and the comms room. All the doorways are pressurized. How do you advise we continue?"
"The radio's working well, teams. I'll order Charlie to move up to keep the exit room clear. Meanwhile, you two need to get your asses to engineering; there could be survivors in this station, and we can't save them if you blow all these doors to space... It'll also save us some god damn time here." The sergeant confirms he understands the order, adding that they might be in time for a late dinner.

Tonos watches Charlie move along the tunnel from outside the bridgeway, furrowing his brow. His corporal's voice crackles into his radio: "I guess we'll be keeping ourselves comfy for this one, huh?" He sighs, shifting his positioning for something more comfortable, "Don't tempt the black, corporal. Besides, there's still the transporting; bodies, supplies, prisoners, survivors. How about I recommend you?" He hears an exaggerated chuckle on the other end, "Always looking out for us." Tonos grunts, leaning back against the carabiner's connection and looking out into space. His head was still in a mild daze, keeping him relaxed. It was one of his good moments; no one liked him when he was agitated, his subordinates especially.

Inside, the forward teams have finished with the next doorway. They, perhaps wisely, have decided to avoid the barracks until they have better control over the station. Alpha blows their charges into the communications room, Bravo meanwhile setting their's for the cafeteria. The canvas is removed, and the team move in. Bodies. It's the first thing they notice; three of the station's crew floating inside the room - One hovers just above the comm chair, another - a woman - near the corner of a terminal with dried blood covering a wound, and the third floats back from its position craddling over another set of equipment. A small few of Alpha assume the worst; "Did we jus-" Their sergeant's helmeted head turns to all of them, silently urging they shut it. He waves two others to go with him, and they check over the bodies while the others continue to scan the room. The bodies are... emaciated, possibly heavily malnourished, as if they've barely eaten in weeks. He winces at closer inspection, their desperate reflexive attempts to suck in air indicating they are still alive.

The sergeant quickly reaches for his radio: "This is alpha - We've got three bodies here. Looks like... they haven't eaten anything in a long time. The doors seemed adequately functional before they were blown open." Their captain crackles in their receivers: "Are they alive, Alpha?" There's a nervous cough over the radio, "Well... not for much longer, sir. Sorry, there wasn't a safer way." There's a loud sigh on the other end, but the captain is cut off by one of the privates - Most of the equipment was dead or in sleep mode, the only exception being the hypercomms receiver, "I've got a terminal here, sir. Looks like it's trying to fix some sort of error. One of the only working pieces of equipment here, aside from the receiver." As he looks over it, the screen floods with debug information. His eye twitches instinctively as he watches it, giving him pause and he looks away. The captain's voice distracts him from it: "Understood, teams. Alpha, haul those bodies back here. Charlie, have your engineer see if we can use their comms to send out a distress signal." Charlie responds in the affirmative, pulling themselves near the comms area. Alpha grabs their bodies and push themselves out in a haste, though under no delusions that these people will survive. Bravo, meanwhile, spreads itself out in the cafeteria - They scan the area, a few locked on the walls for a way onwards. The atmosphere is... chilling. Food, pots, and utensils silently tink against their armoured bodies as they drift in further and further. They spread out, scanning the walls, floor, and ceiling primarily.

Charlie, meanwhile, have an engineer go up to the comms equipment with his tools. He holds a flashlight in one hand, scanning it around the area, trying to garner whether the equipment is usable. He scans over the equipment, most of it off, dead, or saving power. Disappointed in the terminals, he pulls himself over to the long-comms tower receiver specifically, smacking out the stray radio wires still in the room from Alpha. It was still somehow functioning. He looks back, pointing to his tools, then to the tower. Not being connected to the direct-link radio, he'd have to use gestures and sign language. Regardless, the others seem to understand.

 

[Natealie]

Upon this planet many things could be considered out of place. Police would be one such thing, as would common people. Shops and their keepers would also be out of place, as most things bought here were imported from other worlds. Entertainment facilities however were not exactly out of place, as the people living here still needed things to do if they got bored. The newcomer to the planet however, who on another world may be considered out of place, was actually not here on Veles.

She certainly looked like some criminal. A gangster at that. Yes, she looked exactly like one of the myriad customers of The Abraxus Collective. Camilla observed all of this and cross referenced it with her memories, finding no record of this person. Well, it was certainly enough to know that they were not some sort of authority. Not that she was concerned about this post apocalypse, but the policy of The Abraxus Collective on authorities was extremely strict, rigid, and to the point. They are to be neutralized and captured for human experimentation.

Camilla approached the woman, her guard unlowered. "I bid you welcome to our home. I however am unable to recall who exactly you are, and so I am afraid that I must ask you to identify yourself." Camilla did not want to seem overly rude, but when dealing with customers it was important to show that you were assertive. Preventing fights was a top priority, but so was showing that The Abraxus Collective was not to be pushed around or disrespected.

Vulpes Mx.Trinity Dano Trashler

 

[Mx.Trinity]

Upon this planet many things could be considered out of place. Police would be one such thing, as would common people. Shops and their keepers would also be out of place, as most things bought here were imported from other worlds. Entertainment facilities however were not exactly out of place, as the people living here still needed things to do if they got bored. The newcomer to the planet however, who on another world may be considered out of place, was actually not here on Veles.

She certainly looked like some criminal. A gangster at that. Yes, she looked exactly like one of the myriad customers of The Abraxus Collective. Camilla observed all of this and cross referenced it with her memories, finding no record of this person. Well, it was certainly enough to know that they were not some sort of authority. Not that she was concerned about this post apocalypse, but the policy of The Abraxus Collective on authorities was extremely strict, rigid, and to the point. They are to be neutralized and captured for human experimentation.

Camilla approached the woman, her guard unlowered. "I bid you welcome to our home. I however am unable to recall who exactly you are, and so I am afraid that I must ask you to identify yourself." Camilla did not want to seem overly rude, but when dealing with customers it was important to show that you were assertive. Preventing fights was a top priority, but so was showing that The Abraxus Collective was not to be pushed around or disrespected.

Vulpes Mx.Trinity Dano Trashler

At the sound of another person's voice Xi's finger automatically clicked down the primary trigger and readied at the secondary turning abruptly to face where the voice was coming from, the purring rail gun in her hand pointed with hostile manner towards the woman. However after briefly pausing and recalling what the woman had said she let her finger ease up on the secondary, and primary triggers. She slung the gun up onto her shoulder and looked the woman up and down not saying anything for a few moments. Suddenly she punched the underbelly of the ship.

What did I say!? I could be dead right now you hunk of junk.

"Apologies I did not detect any hostility, I did not think it was necessary."

I don't care what you THINK. I gave you an order... follow it next time or I'll have you scrapped and shipped off into the next sun for a better A.I. Understand?

"Yes captain."

After arguing briefly with the ships A.I. she turned her attention back to the woman. -- (Quotes for my character speaking now)

"Heya! Nice lil' planet you got goin here... thanks for the warm welcome but before I tell you who I am, are you some kind of... police authority? I don't have shit on board so I do NOT give you my permission to search it."

She patted her hand against her leg, not sure of what would happen next. But she had a lot of questions if the person didn't end up being some kind of threat.

Natealie

 

[Prizzy Kriyze]

☣/Kyr☢s "Uranus" Thalia/☣​

One thing at a time, standard protocol. Entering enemy territory always means there's a chance of an ambush, and therefore one must always stay vigilent and not walk into any obvious traps. Seeing as this was a straight hallway access, there was little chance of that happening. At least that's what Kyros thought, not at all taking into account the recent renovations that've been on in the area, with all the building materials and tools that entailed. Not that it mattered much, because he didn't have the time to get that far in thinking before an unfamiliar smell alerted him of the presence of an invader.

The complex eyes of the monstrosity rolled around independently of each other and scanned the room for thermals, ultraviolets, anything to give away the position of the intruder. It didn't take that long though, as within a few seconds of his entry a woman gave away her position with an inaccurate volley of fire above his head. Or actually no, nobody was that incompetent. Before he moved into action against her, he allowed one eye to twist around and focus on what she was aiming at, only to find a large beam swing down towards him. Within a second a gunbarrel unraveled from his shoulder and shot three heavy tungsten slabs back at it. Two hit the beam itself and the third ripped it loose from its other chains, causing it tumble and slam into the metal floor with a loud bang.

Kyros had to give the woman props for being inventive, as she'd taken the moment to weasel her way back towards the hangars at a fast pace. Unfortunately, this was neither her home field nor did she have the upper hand.

Two loud steps shook the flooring when he moved to the opposite wall of the hallway and pushed the Uranus' connection port against a biotermal's and issued an immediate lockdown of this section. With a bang the 12 meter tall void-resistant power door slammed in place before the rogue. Kyros, who was already crouched as was standard due to the Mecha's design, sprung off from the floor and threw himself all the way across the hall to nearly dent the metal plates when he landed behind her. Seven large rifle barrels popped out of the Uranus' arms and chest, all leveled at the girl's body.

The J

 

[Lyro]

.

.

.

The movie was getting worse on every viewing. This was another point he had established by now. Revrin clicked his pen and jotted down another plot hole. Scene 24 - Data ghosts are established as being over 12000 years old. Data ghosts are established as having been cut off from the outside world since their death. Despite this, Vern regularly uses the colloquialism "wink 'n blink", first recorded use of which dates back to-

"Hang in there, bu--"

Revrin sat bolt upright, hit his head on the ship's ceiling, and reached out to hit the jump interrupt button. But it was already too late. The universe flashed around him too fast for his eyes to process, and he was suddenly light years away from where he had been. "No! Oh, no, no, no, no, go back..." There had been someone! Someone who had heard his message! His desperate gamble had paid off... seconds too late. If the situation hadn't been so dire he would have laughed at the absurdity of it.

What did he do now? Did he go back, trying to find them? Or did he wait here, hoping that they had picked up the entirety of his message? What if their comms had been broken, and they had just happened to see his ship by chance? Had there even been someone, or had it been a message thousands of years old that had just chanced upon him as he passed through the system?

That last one was unlikely. So was meeting another human at random, even though he had stacked the odds as much in his favor as he could. How big had the ship been? How long would it take to get here? He scrutinized the empty space above him, pressing his face against the ship's tiny porthole. He had appeared close to a planet (which one, he couldn't remember at this point), and judging from the gaseous blue haze around him he was still in the Pleiades, but there were no ships to be found around him. He then spun himself over and applied the same scrutiny to the porthole located beneath him - nothing, save for the cold light of the stars.

The ship had to have heard his whole message. It would appear soon, surely. The fact that it hadn't already was actually good news: it must have been a big ship. A huge ship. With supplies and people and good news. Or even just news, of any kind. And it had promised it was coming to save him. He would wait. The ship was coming, he just had to be patient for a few more minutes. Hours. Maybe a day or two. But he would wait.

He quickly recorded a new message broadcasting his up-to-the-second coordinates and sent it out on a continuous loop. He had been noticed once, he would be noticed again. Hopefully. Assuredly.

 

[ManicMuse]

.

.

.

.

.

Parker

"Never let your sense of morals prevent you from doing what is right."

Scene Details

​

Location: Unknown
State of being: Determined
Nearby: The pesky Orb
OOC:
@: Group: Lyro Mr.Sandstorm , Harmalite
@: Hopefully soon direct interaction: Snorble211

Spoiler: Space Lullaby

"Wake up. Open your eyes, Parker. You have to get up."

"You cannot stop, or the shadows will keep you forever."

"Damn it, Parker open your eyes!"

Startled awake by the voice in her head, the entire mass of clothing sprawled out across the console, shifted with a jolt of movement. Iced over moisture had once again reclaimed the observation deck's window. The darkness of space with dots of light were somewhat visible, through the frozen icy haze. Parker laid there, engulfed in silence for a time, unsure just how long she had been out.

Then the stop watch broke the silence, as a murmuring echo of chirps was slightly muffled by the cuff of the jacket. Checking the time and resetting the clock, Parker rolled off the dashboard allowing her body to flop limply against the cold flooring below.

The watch had alerted to the fact 36 hours, give or take, had elapsed. It meant she could now eat again. Parker had reset the countdown, but did not bother to go hunt down a meal in the dwindling supplies.

With her cheek pressed against the icy metal, she listened to the soft mechanical hum of the engines. A hiss, cranking of chains and gears started up a few minutes later. This was in no way a surprise. Parker had set her meals around the time, when the ships power panels were deployed. It helped her feel less alone, like they were dinning together.

With the batteries of ship refueled upon solar currents, Parker's mind drifted back to the break down.

"It's getting worse. It's time to just do it," her inner muse knew, the hopelessness was killing her. Unraveling the core being, one lonely day after another, leaving a husk of what once was human. She'd been saving them until she got closer to inhabited space. At this point it was now or never for her sake.

Feeling as if the flesh of her cheek would fuse to the metal flooring if she stayed even a moment longer, she pushed off, forcing herself to her feet. The tiny orbed robot hovered, once again, in the doorway watching silently. Parker felt it's eyes upon her; it was comforting somehow. Wandering down the passageway, down onto the cargo bay through the darkness. Stopping dead in her tracks, a few feet in, taking in the state of the cyro bed. Gravity had not been so kind to it when restored.

The sleek white pod coated in geometric drawings now rested on its side halfway embedded a set of metal grates, that made up the flooring, in the cargo bay. Clearly, Parker was going to have to resort to sleeping in her old bed again.

Qawking at the unsightly mess that now was the cargo bay, Parker heard the little blue eyed bot make a mimicked, "Oooooh uh-oh," through various chirps and mechanical chimes.

Turning and grabbing the closest thing in range, she chucked an empty can at the hovering bot. Shifting a few inches to the left, the orb had not been in danger of being struck to begin with, but acknowledged it's maker intention. Flashing a few geometric symbols, it conveyed a message of apology, both for the comment and that for the state of the cargo bay.

Parker turned her back on the mechanical creature and went to work, searching. After a good hour, of sorting and shifting the mess of the bay about, she was able to free a metal insulated container. Opening it with a sigh of relief, her red gaze shifted over every inch of the devices. The form fitted foam of the case kept the devices safe and secure despite being jostled about.

Using her teeth to peel away both gloves, she carefully began to pluck each pod from its cradle in the foam and bring it over to a console in the bay. Connecting them one by one, each was charged then downloaded with a message and had a course laid into their programming for travel. The process was fairly time consuming. By ten hours in, Parker gave in and decided to eat. This time it was a horrid starchy mush. It had been labeled beef and potato stew, but Parker was quite certain whoever created it had never eaten meat before.

Polishing off the last of the mystery stew pouch, the fifth device was finished with charging. Walking over to Airlock B, used only for smaller items, like passengers. She punched at the control panel, opening the doors. The mechanical hissing of the hydraulics was slightly disarming. Now, only one set of outdoors protected her from the empty, airless, nothingness of space. It was enough to make her blood run cold. Quickly, placing each of the five pods in the airlock, she was pulled the lever. The doors slowly began to crank shut once again, locking away the emptiness of space, for now.

Returning to the crate, she peeled back the small rectangular panel of foam to reveal a small LED-backlit notebook sized computer. Attaching it to the console, the ship and device interfaced. Turning on the launch sequence. Toggling screens, she plugged in the command to the ship first:

/Purge Cargo B Airlock

/Open Cargo B Airlock Doors​

>>>Acknowledged. <<<<
>>>CONFIRM Command Required. ***WARNING*** >>>>Will result in depressurizing of Airlock Cargo B<<<< Type:/Confirm <<< to continue​

/Confirm

>>>Acknowledged<<<​

A suction sound, like that of a vacuum trying to whisper was audible, as the air was pumped out of Airlock B. Parker felt her mouth go dry, a pounding her chest picked up, echoing in both ears. Watching from the tiny frozen window on the doorway of the Airlock. The outer-doors slowly crept open, revealing nothing but the endless shadows beyond. Slowly, the five pods drifted out of the Airlock tumbling weightlessly. Once they all were outside, Parker quickly entered in the command: /Close Cargo B Airlock /Pressurize Airlock

>>>>Acknowledged<<<​

The ships computer was much less picky about putting air back into places.

Toggling back to the device's OS, Parker powered on the five little devices and started up their program.

//Execute>>>S.O.S​

The five little devices, whirled to life, out in the great abyss. Each using thrusters to correct toward their own trajectories. Then one by one, they took off, slowly. Each, different directions, broadcasting a simple message:

01010011 01100001 01110110 01100101 00100000 01010000 01100001 01110010 01101011 01100101 01110010 00001010 00001010 01001100 01100001 01110011 01110100 00100000 01101011 01101110 01101111 01110111 01101110 00100000 01101100 01101111 01100011 01100001 01110100 01101001 01101111 01101110 00111010 00100000 00001010 −45.4859734°–−67.6905823°

Message translation: Save Parker.
Last known location: 45.4859734°–−67.6905823°

Watching the tiny little beacons disappear off her screen, Parker felt a tension in her chest that would not let up. After that moment, a week came and went, in deafening silence. The shadows felt as if they were growing ever closer, ready to devour her whole.

 

[Trashler]

V3 was rather in a mood after the male had arrived. 'Un mâle! Il prendra toutes les filles' V3 thought out loud, in a rather angry tone of voice. V5 wasn't exactly happy with the current situation either. Humans were gross to him, and they leave a mess everywhere. It's a real hassle to deal with humans. You have to potty train them, take them on a daily walk, play fetch with them. Wait, maybe that was dogs, but is there really a difference? Having to hear humans in general annoyed V5, so the bot decided to "prepare" the ship. "I'll go prepare the ship for our new "guests" V5 said, walking in the opposite direction.

"It's a pleasure to meet you two, but from the looks of it, it seems like this station isn't going to last long. We're needing to go to Veles for a supply and fuel mission. Either you two can tag along, or you could stay here. You're choice. We can seat up to ten more in our ship." V1 spoke, tapping V9 on the shoulder. V1 took a good look at his surroundings, and sighed. It reminded him of home. The home that they had lost not too long ago. V1 shook his head, trying not to dwindle in the past. Upon the tap of the shoulder V9 went to the ship, with a bit of hatred in his eyes. Upon entry in the ship, he began to set up the coordinates for Veles.

 

[Slop]

The Archivist | Location: The Nexus Databank, Observatory Room | State of Mind: Blank, Pondering​

Only after three weeks did the Archivist snap out of his trance - with the aid of his comm system's irksome beeping and buzzing, of course. One could day he was daydreaming, in fact. His train of thoughts came to an abrupt halt thanks to the aforementioned comm system ere breaking free from his stoic pose and turning around to brisk forth his communication panel.

With a mind still on cloud nine, the Archivist tried to fight the inertia that was stopping him from reaching the panel. And after a dramatic twenty seconds or so, he had finally reached it. Praise the Lord. Withal, another gust of confusion struck him once more as the Archivist stood dumbfounded before the comm panels. Again.

With said inertia still going against him, the Archivist struggled mentally as he tried to clear his mind of the fog polluting it and attempted to focus. And after yet another overly-dramatic two minutes or so, he had mustered up his.. mental strength..? I dunno against the great devil that is procrastination and pressed the goddamned broadcast button before reconfiguring his voice module to the deep, old voice that the Archivist is known for.

"As per Earth-time, good evening, ladies and gentlemen - and mechanical apparitions alike. Who I am is irrelevant but if you're fortunate enough to have received this broadcast and the coordinates I'm sending out, I hereby declare access to my location. Note that my anti-craft defense systems online and any signs of threat will result in instant elimination. Thank you."

• BROADCAST ENDED
• SENDING COORDINATES... AWAITING CONFIRMATION...
• CONFIRMED
• SENDING COORDINATES...
• COORDINATES SENT: 89.9999--89.9999
• ALERT-INCOMING EMERGENCY BROADCAST
• EMERGENCY BROADCAST IGNORED

 

[Zahzi]

JUG-62
Location: STUCK IN A GOD DAMN TINY ASS CARGO HOLD
Nearby: 'LT. WEI ( welian ) AND CADET BAILEY' ( D. Rex )


01001001 01000110 00100000 01001010 01010101 01000111 01000111 01011010 00100000 01000100 01001111 01000101 01010011 01001110 00100111 01010100 00100000 01000111 01000101 01010100 00100000 01001111 01010101 01010100 00100000 01001111 01000110 00100000 01010100 01001000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01000011 01000001 01010010 01000111 01001111 00100000 01001000 01001111 01001100 01000100 00101100 00100000 01001010 01010101 01000111 01000111 01011010 00100000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01000111 01001111 01001110 01001110 01000001 00100000 01000011 01001000 01001111 01001011 01000101 00100000 01000001 00100000 01000010 01001001 01010100 01000011 01001000

On-board the Vulture, there was a continuous metallic clanging originating from the cargo hold. With each clang, there as a small vibration across the ship. Whatever was causing it was capable of using enough force to punch through the ship if it so wished. Instead though, it seemed to find causing this never-ending annoyance instead. As to why, well, it wouldn't take too long to figure that one out. Someone on this ship wasn't too keen of their current residence, and was all-too keen on the idea of annoying the other occupants.

Here, we find BATTALION Series Unit JUG-62. Created for war, and yet now was left stuck in storage of a pirate ship. The two human occupants were registered in military standing, meaning them, along with anything in their possession, was spared from any sort of violent action... At least until he could find someone with clearance to remove them from the registry. But from what they were saying about a lack of response from anything outside of proximity, that might never happen. It would have been FINE had he just been left there with his own devices, but the captain of this ship, who stood just barely taller than half his size, had the audacity to TAKE HIS MACHINE GUN AND SEAL IT IN HER QUARTERS. AWAY FROM HIM.
It made one wonder if an AI could achieve space madness...
He continued with his petty assault on their every waking moment. Honestly, he didn't care how they reacted to it.

Perhaps they had grown used to the sound, along with the vibrations it caused. Maybe they were just ignoring it. Either way, a certain warbot was leaving quite a dent in the side of an empty metallic crate with a single finger, over and over again. The prodding had started when it was still five feet from the nearest wall. Now, the vibrations carried through the entire ship. As if on cue, the comms kicked on above JUGGZ, causing him to look up. He stopped, after a succession of eighteen-hundred and forty-seven. Instead, he grabbed onto the side of the crate, and shoved it out of his way, making his way to the speaker inside the cargo bay. Just before he reached it, the crate slammed into the wall on the opposite side of the bay, no doubt causing a stir, or in this case, turbulence through space.
"MOVE CLOSER. I WANT TO EXERCISE."

He had enough waiting around..

01001001 01000110 00100000 01001010 01010101 01000111 01000111 01011010 00100000 01000100 01001111 01000101 01010011 01001110 00100111 01010100 00100000 01000111 01000101 01010100 00100000 01001111 01010101 01010100 00100000 01001111 01000110 00100000 01010100 01001000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01000011 01000001 01010010 01000111 01001111 00100000 01001000 01001111 01001100 01000100 00101100 00100000 01001010 01010101 01000111 01000111 01011010 00100000 01001001 01010011 00100000 01000111 01001111 01001110 01001110 01000001 00100000 01000011 01001000 01001111 01001011 01000101 00100000 01000001 00100000 01000010 01001001 01010100 01000011 01001000​

 

[Natealie]

She stood there smiling unnaturally as this all went on. Even as a gun was pointed at her she did not flinch. Camilla knew she could afford to take a shot or two before executing somebody if it came down to it. This was all so routine to her, ending the lives of the enemies of Abraxus was so routine to her. After all, cleansing the gene pool of undesirable traits was one way to ensure that the gene pool is stronger. And being an enemy of Abraxus was a very undesirable trait.

But then the woman lowered her weapon. Camilla continued to smile, waiting for her turn to speak as this woman spoke. It would appear that violence was unnecessary. This was fortunate. While Camilla could handle herself, disposing of a body was plenty of work, and she had much more important things to be doing with her very limited time. This person could be an ally after all. They may have resources that Veles lacks. In any case, they were done talking now, and so Camilla was ready to respond.

"You need not worry about police here. If there are any still alive they would be being held in the labs." The posthuman explained. "And considering that the apocalypse has happened, I believe it is safe to infer that the law has gone with it. You have no need to worry about being tried for any crimes here, we do however ask that you keep the location of this planet and what goes on here a secret. Of course, this extends to The Abraxus Collective as well. We ask that you keep the organization a secret too."

Vulpes Dano Trashler Mx.Trinity

 

[Mx.Trinity]

She tilted her head, the woman was a bit too calm having a weapon of this caliber pointed at her. She waved the thought away with hand like a fly was buzzing around her. She listened to her talk and explain a bit about the planet and mentioned the Abraxus Collective. Her brows furrowed having sworn remembering the name somewhere but couldn't place it. Then she mentioned it was an organization... this was peculiar, perhaps she didn't remember the Abraxus Collective.

"Hmm...."

She paused a moment giving a bit more thought to her next statement.

"Since you were kind enough to inform me of your standing regarding the international space administration... I'll keep your secret, and tell you a bit about myself. I'm from Earth, if you've met any criminals from there they've more than likely have purchased goods from me at one point or another. I'm a black market specialist, I have skills in complex medical procedures, drug production, and weapon assembly. Naturally I've sold all of these to people... I'm part of the BFG gang. My name is Xizi, or Baby Nuke"

She put her hand on the bottom of the ship again balancing her weapon on the other shoulder. Stretching her neck back and forth.

"To put it simply I'm a surgeon of cybernetics and complex age prevention procedures, and a merchant above all else..."

There was a bit of eerieness in the air as she went silent for a moment.

"So... do you happen to know what's happening? Everyone I've come across is drifting through space, like dead ships. Either completely quiet or emergency broadcasts..."

She took her hand off the bottom of the ship and wiped the grit off on her tiger stripe leggings.

Natealie (tagging for proximity)

 

[Quillicious]

Spades​

It was a lovely day on the planet of Emina. Traffic was minimal, the twin suns were shining brightly, and the casino was nice and busy. That meant more pockets to pick and more suckers to scam for Spades. Gambling was merely his hobby, a sidejob today. He had bigger things to take care of today. The blackjack table wasn't too busy this time around, so Spades made his way over to the game table. For a planet devoted to providing pleasures, Emina really held you at arm's length a lot of the time. Yet there were no complaints from him, that was just business. He swiped a few credits, physical tokens that the casino used, not the intangible data normally used. Multiple pairs of eyes watched him as he took a seat at the table. "What, something in teeth?" They each went back to their respective absentminded activities. The dealer robot, or a half of one to be exact, dealt the holographic cards out. Good thing robots like that weren't sentient, Spades himself would probably die of bordem from that job. At the table, there was a colorful cast of two androids, a cyborg, and three humans. The cyborg was the main attraction, though. Malius Thorbeon, a notorious gang member, brought attention to himself by rising through the ranks of the Red Haze, an interplanetary gang that basically just killed people and then did weird stuff with their blood. Okay, by notorious, he wasn't notorious notorious, the guy was just an asshole and pushed the right people around. Luck had brought him to the position he was in today, but she had spat in Mal's face today. The cyborg, with one arm, an eye, and half his skull replaced (how typical, right?) raised his hand. His mouth had barely opened to say something when it basically exploded out of existence. Spades' gun was drawn, held upward, with smoke trailing out of the barrel.

"Don't worry, I hit 'em for ya." After the phrase, Spades frowned. "No, no, I can do better." He cleared his throat and smirked, the cool look returning to his face. "Blackjack." Again, he frowned. By now, everyone had stopped their gambling and set their attention on the guy that had just shot someone. "Whatever, I don't care anymore. Witty one-liners are overrated anyway. But did you see he head?!" A huge grin came over his face. Laughter erupted out of him as he covered his face with his gloved hand. A few seconds passed and he looked back up, face red and eyes misty from the humor(?) of the situation. "It...just went..." Spades attempted to replicate the noise that the head of...whatever the guy's name was, blowing a raspberry and twiddling his fingers away from the side of his head. The laughter finally died down, the entire room silent. "Jeez, tough crowd," he complained with an eye roll. "Lighten up, guys. I'm not gonna kill you. Just these guys." In a flash, quick as lightning, Spades sprayed the rest of his ammo into the heads of the five remaining blackjack players. The railgun-esque revolver, essentially an actual hand-cannon, blew their heads into chunky bits. Switching the empty cylinder out with a fresh one, the hitman sighed and walked to the terrace, the glass doors opening automatically, and hopped onto the edge of the abyss. For some reason, people thought it was a good idea to make skyscrapers that were suspended above a pit that went directly into the core of the planet. Spades gave a little wave as he fell, landing in the cockpit of his ship. "Ow, shit! My communicator!" He had landed on the mobile hypercommunicator. All it took was two words for the kill to be confirmed, and a few thousand credits were transferred to his bounty account. The person on the other end stopped him before he tossed the thing. Apparently, Spades was going on a trip to the edge of the galaxy. Some girl needed killing cause she had some thing. Cool.

Three weeks later, Spades itched his stubble with a bored expression. He had been sitting in the ice field for about a day now. The supplies in the lower deck could keep him alive for about a little over a month more, but he didn't want to wait any longer. Judging by the surround area, aka a shitload of nothing except some rocks in space and a small port, this was the only place that girl could get water. Tensing up as a colossal ice rock floated lazily past his ship, Spades hit his head on the console of the ship. "I hate my job..."

Interactions/Mentions

Nash - Giyari

​

 

[Tardy Grade]

The first space walk ended in near tradegy. Alexei Leonov had been given three simple instructions to complete during the first exposure of man to space.

1.Attach a camera to the airlock.

2.Document his space walk.

3.Survive.

Thankfully only one of those proved impossible.

In the 12 minutes he was in space his spacesuit inflated too much to use the chest mounted camera. He reported that he could not reach the camera's shutter-switch on his thigh.

Readings from his suit showed how he was near heatstroke, his suit full of sweat as his heart threatened to burst right out of his chest. If not for this monumentous success would scientists and governments have been able to convince others that space was truly worth the hassle of traversal?

Who can tell? Why guess at what ifs?

"As air escaped from the spacecraft's air lock-like structure, the vacuum of space reached into it like a monster's claw. Though it must have been rehearsed on earth over and ove-"

Wrote the men of that time and the man himself had a more telling description. His suit had deformed so much he couldn't renter the airlock. Forced into a dire situation his presence of mind allowed him to know exactly what drastic measures were needed. Releasing oxygen from his suit into space he nearly suffered the bends from nitrogen building in his bloodstream.

More dangers followed that escapade but by the grace of the watchers nothing too severe and both men who'd been sent out by their country made it back to instruct others on the dangers of space.

"-ery. Rery can you hear me? You haven't responded in -"

"Keep the chatter to a minimal." Rery replied curtly to the AI knowing it was too simple to truly mean her care. Programmed tonal changes but no flicker of understanding why. Rery drifted and faced the massive expanse of space without caring too much for the sight before using small thrusters on the sides of her limbs to rotate and face her ship and locate the regions of highest damage.

With her mag gun she saved herself fuel and got a decent work out at the same time. Muscles didn't erode away like they may have thousands of years prior but they still needed to feel strain to prevent her body and mind to grow too used to the seductive comfort of space.

"Ai any loose shielding plates we could requisition for a patch job?"

"Enough. Perhaps more. I'd advise against doing that much at this point though. We've no means to know if we will need more repairs before reaching a settlement."

"About that. Have you found anywhere nearby we could reach on the analog comms systems?"

"Negative. But there are around 3 ports on our maps that are equidistant from this current point. Which shall we go to?"

"Do they have any GURREN presence? Rivals? How are they colonized?"

"Apologies I cannot acquire further information that could be counted as recent. As you would recall you have failed to update my d-"

"Yes yes. Bloody void that be just let that go already." She swore under her breath. It took her more than a few active hours to get everything done with. Her comms systems were relegated to orbit distance without satellites to boost her range.

"To the first closest port then. The one in the direction of the nearest GURREN station." She detached the mag fix and got into her ship and got to her rest pod. She felt she'd need her strength for whatever else was going to take place.

The ship's hyperdrive hummed into life and then in the blink of an eye they were gone.

Quillicious Giyari

 

[Natealie]

Camilla nodded as she was speaking, listening and logging all of the information within her mind. It was all interesting. If Camilla didn't care about others she wouldn't make a good agent for Abraxus after all. She kind of had to be good with interacting with others by default. Regardless however, she was particularly interested in this woman's set of skills. They could be useful. So then she responded.

"Unfortunately I lack specific information on what caused the apocalypse. I only know that it has managed to avoid affecting Veles. I will not complain about that for obvious reasons. We also have not received any emergency broadcasts, as we do try to keep this planet off the grid, despite well that." Camilla said, gesturing to the large visible space station in the sky. "Your skill set is quite interesting though Xizi, and I believe that we can offer our assistance if you need any."

Mx.Trinity Dano Trashler Vulpes

 

[Mx.Trinity]

Camilla nodded as she was speaking, listening and logging all of the information within her mind. It was all interesting. If Camilla didn't care about others she wouldn't make a good agent for Abraxus after all. She kind of had to be good with interacting with others by default. Regardless however, she was particularly interested in this woman's set of skills. They could be useful. So then she responded.

"Unfortunately I lack specific information on what caused the apocalypse. I only know that it has managed to avoid affecting Veles. I will not complain about that for obvious reasons. We also have not received any emergency broadcasts, as we do try to keep this planet off the grid, despite well that." Camilla said, gesturing to the large visible space station in the sky. "Your skill set is quite interesting though Xizi, and I believe that we can offer our assistance if you need any."

Mx.Trinity Dano Trashler Vulpes

She paused for a moment thinking to herself, her eyes moving from one invisible point to the next; looking at nothing in particular. She turned and faced her ship examining it for another quiet moment before speaking aloud.

"Any assistance huh?...."

She continued to watch the ship as if it were an animal she'd not seen before.

"Well she could use a fresh coat of stealth paint after burning up in the atmosphere. I'm currently out of supplies and would like to go get a supply cache I've got stashed away on an asteroid belt...."

She turned to look at the woman again.

"What was your name?"

Natealie

 

[Dano]

Nearby: Trashler Vulpes
Location: Space Station

Julie stood there in amazement as the young pilot came in, brash as ever. He was more crude than she remembered anyone being, almost in a primitive manner. When he stopped beside her and made contact with her it sent a sense of unease through her body. She hardly had a moment to think when the small but impressive robot army made the decision to go down to the planet. Julie’s head was spinning trying to keep up with everything going on. She turned and looked at Ari for some semblance of support. When she shrugged it sent Julie into a bit of a tailspin, having nothing stable in the new world she found herself in just a couple short hours ago.



She stepped away from the primate touching her and shook her head slightly as a nervous smile and laugh burst forth as she blurted out, “Sure what the hell….” as she started to take a step towards the robot’s ship she stopped suddenly. “WAIT!” Julie had a thought, her vodka stash. It had to still be hidden in her lab. “.... I'll be right back, don't leave without me. If I'm going to some strange planet with a company of robots I'm going to need some vodka….” With that, Julie took off down the hall towards where her lab had been. Upon entering the former lab she looked around and it had been converted to a modern synth lab. She was a bit broken-hearted seeing her former lab transformed into something unrecognizable. Shaking off the feeling, she quickly made her way to the back corner where the ventilation grate was. It only took her a moment to dislodge it from its place, reach into the rather large opening and pull out a small case. Thumbing the combination it clicked open and her eyes lit up like a child on Christmas morning. Carefully she pulled out the bottle of authentic vodka from her home back on Earth and her ancient tape player with headphones. Not waiting for anything, she removed the cap and took a long swig off of it to try and help get her mind straight with everything she had learned.



As Julie walked back towards the hangar where most had congregated, the classic rock playing in her ears drummed out any care in the universe she might have had at the moment. When she arrived and saw the robot team already aboard the ship she smiled and took another gulp from her now half empty bottle. She was feeling great as she walked onto the ship and sat down in what might have been a seat, but she couldn’t be sure, nor did she care. “Ok I’m here…. Lets get this thing down to the planet, I could use some solid ground under my feet for the first time in 15,000 years….” She laughed at herself as she had been speaking quite loudly since the music was still playing. Securing the bottle next to her she started to, what many might say was a seizure or other serious medical condition, rock out as her hands flailed in the air and her head whipped side to side. Julie let out a mighty wail, “WOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” as she started playing the air guitar...

 

[Vulpes]

Jack smirked subtly as Julie stepped back, once again enjoying the reactions he had received. He felt somewhat more satisfied now that he had actually had some enjoyment. Jack noted that in future Julie would find this kind of behaviour either creepy or abnoxious, for the sake of not causing any trouble he decided to apologize.
"Sorry" he called as she turned and started walking away, "having been exposed to sensory deprivation for two weeks I wasn't thinking straight."

After addressing Julie he turned to the angry sounding robot. "What does that mean?" He had assumed it was an insult at his somewhat noisy entrance, the thought made him chuckle slightly. He suddenly felt a bit of remorse for being annoying, but immediately ignored it, not even bothering to justify to himself why prodding strangers was fine. Jack assumed that nobody knew any more than he did about the silence, seeing as they made no comments.

Turning to V1, Jack smiled and "I see no reason not to join you, so long as I can clean myself, and eat. I was wondering if you could bring my ship along, if not I'll just leave it nearby. Thanks a lot by the way, I'm Jack." Jack confidently raised his hand to shake with the robot. After that Jack headed off to his ship "I'll be back in a few" he said as he walked away. He lightly stepped back to the docking station he had arrived from, happily bouncing as he went. Jack was hit by a nasty smell as he entered his ship, a generic pestilent smell. Because of the stench, Jack quickly pulled his holographic computer from the slot in his cockpit dashboard and grabbed his bag which contained his 3D printer and some filaments.
Nearby:@Dano Trashler
Natealie Mx.Trinity

 

[Trashler]

Nearby: Dano Vulpes Natealie Mx.Trinity
Location: Space Station, Docking Bay at Veles

V5 sighed at the sight of the humans boarding his ship, but it was their duty to help others, quote on quote. He was just glad that they were stopping at Veles. V1 usually allowed the Odessa's to buy one movie each, usually because space is boring. It use to be cool, but now it's unpopular, at best. V5 began to tamper with the controls of the ship. The human's ship fit snug into the holding bay, which is where it is possible for much smaller ships to dock in. With a push of a button, the ship detached itself from the station, and began to make its way to Veles.

On the other side of the spectrum, V7 was annoying the hell out of V10 with sarcastic comebacks and jokes. V2 was being quite boastful about himself in a corner, and V8 was perplexed by the 3D printer aboard the ship. Whilst all this was happening, V4 simply was laying down, and V9 was being his dark and brooding self, like always. For most outsiders it seemed that this wacky bunch of robot's was a family, which indeed it was. A family that has guns, lasers, swords and can combine, that is.

The ship was approaching the planet, and from afar, it seemed like a heaven. "Alright passengers,we are about to land in Veles. Temperature is 65 degrees, and the sun is shiny. Please remain in your seats until we have made a complete stop" V5 said, as he prepared the ship to land. The Delta, with a defined finish, made it's landing upon the planet's main docking bay. "Alright, I'm going to the supply cache to get fuel for the Delta. I think I spotted a shop in the docking bay, so you can go get food there I suppose. I'm not exactly sure what humans eat anymore. V3 told me it was Space Kale or something like that. Your free to go with me if you wish. Stay cautionary though. We don't know much about Veles. We only know it's name and that it's populated with humans." V1 said, directing the call towards the humans. With that, V1 made his way to the supply cache.

 

[Harmalite]

NO DATA
Loading last snapshot... 12:00:01 PM, 15/4/18317(SOL-3)

The holographic words hung among the twisting, fractallized geometry of hyperspace. The whole display was a bit misleading; it was just a snapshot in time before the untimely demise of the hyperspace transceiver. Yet still the holographic augmentation matrix embedded within ship's observation port painted a quaint view of the universe. Very quaint compared to what lay beyond the starfield, glimpses of the extragalactic tides that blasted the ship with alien light mangled by dark matter and the unknowns of the intergalactic medium. It wasn't even particularly necessary from a navigator's point of view, but nothing to complain about. At least, not when it was like this: with real-time forecasts of the movement of large vessels and astronomical bodies and constant warnings for regions of radiation and entropic flux, the display was actually pretty obnoxious. Less dangerous, but obnoxious. And so the Blue Solstice floated in an expanse of translucent amber orbs and splines that approached at a logarithmic pace as the warp drive dragged the ship and it's passenger to the next quantum of this dimension. In a cascading outward wave, the objects spat out their lists of coordinates and masses and what have you, but mostly the ever informative NO DATA where the forecast data was supposed to go, as if the quiet séance of celestials were textually lauding the silence in unison. Beya leaned forwards, enveloping his face in the amber glow. He realized he'd thrown the ship into a jump without even bothering to figure out where it was headed, and thought it might be prudent to do that now.

All the way at the other end of the Pleiades, the binary star Atlas sat within the targeting brackets at the center of the viewport. The unassuming appearance of two spheres belied the situation there. Earth-affiliated forces stared down the Charging Taurus from across the heliopause of Atlas, which served as the most defined part of the literally nebulous, but still zealously enforced borders of the Taurus regime. Considering the current situation however, two blank spheres might have been more appropriate. He turned away from the view and checked over the hyperspace console behind him, which gave him him a fifteen minute countdown until the ship reached it's target entropic density.

He hadn't had guests in a while. Unfortunately, it would be excessively dangerous to make any sort of preparations for docking while in hyperspace, so he would just have to find something to do for 15 minutes. 15 minutes wasn't really enough time to warrant passing it with something interesting. He just let his mind wander as he stared into space. The whole galaxy, huh? Total, utter silence from every inhabited body. The Nightmare Regent would definitely have shared it's fate with countless other vessels... space stations, even planets, sustaining catastrophic failures across the board with nobody to prevent them. Yet somehow, the three wanderers managed to meet up in the same star system. So it couldn't have been that bad. Maybe the old man was just unlucky, and missed every smaller unaffected ship on his trip through the disaster zone. Or perhaps they were the lucky ones, who happened to be isolated enough at the time of the galactic catastrophe to survive. And then what a catastrophe it must have been. A hunger for details continued to burn in Beya's mind, fueled by wild speculation and boredom, and he mentally struggled against his hermetically sealed confinement.

...
TRANSFORM COMPLETE!
Transit ready (AUTO)

The sudden appearance of the message snapped Beya out of his trance, and without a second's notice the holographic display popped out of existence and ship was on it's way. The not-quite-acceleration produced some kind of ethereal feeling, a transient whiplash deep in the essence of his humanity, maybe a punch to the soul. Before he could process any of it, it was over. Beya made a mental note: hyperdrive needs a tune-up.

The Solstice had eased itself into a co-orbit with a rocky planet just barely scraping the heliopause of the system, where the intense light of Atlas was softened by a dense barrier of interstellar gas rolled up by stellar winds. Mere seconds had passed before the communicator array locked on to a persistent signal, the audio representation of which hissed and sputtered as the system lazily recalibrated itself to filter out the influx of background noise from the star. It was coming the Needleship for sure. The radar had detected it only a few kilometers ahead, along with the Ibn Battua looming above. Beya was excited, and he wasn't sure if it was more for rescuing a survivor of the end of the galaxy or the prospect of witnessing what it did to an interstellar battlefield, or an inhabited planet. Maybe there were more survivors? Hopefully ones that weren't still shooting. He had to remind himself to take one thing at a time; waves of questions were churning his mind and making it nigh impossible to focus.

Briefly Beya probed over the atmospherics console until he came across a sliding switch labeled "payload bay" and slid it all the way down to a hard vacuum, the function confirmed by the deep hissing of the HVAC system as it evacuated the air from the rearmost chamber of the ship. The communications network was fully awake now, and a crystal-clear image of the needleship formed along with its precise coordinates relative to the oblate behemoth that raged to the left of the ships. Beya opened up the comms.

"This is the Blue Solstice and the Ibn Battua. We got your broadcast, we're here to help."

Lyro Mr.Sandstorm

 

[The Gunrunner]

Tonos Borgh Patherborn, Hellion Station.

The station was deathly silent, for more reasons than the exposure to space. Alpha and bravo scanned the way onwards from the cafeteria - It was a singular corridor, leading them to, they presumed, the way to other levels of the station. Still there was no outside response to the station's situation, and no indication that any of the crew here still had control over the systems. They push the thoughts from their minds as they reach the elevator, a set of stairs to its left behind another sealed door. There was no questioning their choice of the stairs, and the teams went to work on preparing their breach. Plasma drills were set, explosives were laid, and their capturing canvas sealed. The drills sent a flurry of sparks around the area as it burned and cut its way inside, until a green light indicated it had reached the other side. The four men remove their drills, and immediately the inside pressure is slowly - very slowly - released into the many compromised areas. Back to waiting. Their sergeants wave for them to pull security. "We've found the stairs, sir. We are depressurizing it now."

Charlie, meanwhile, keeps itself in the first room of the station. Their engineer drifts towards the comms receiver, waving a hand-light over the surface. He looks over the location of the wires, the screws, and any protrusions. Not every receiver model was the same, meaning he had to use some experienced guesswork to garner where he needs to break open the equipment. In some short work he decides it will be the usual - a lever-bar to pry between the panneling and locate the sealants, and a plasma cutter to remove those sealants and screws. He loses his train of thought a few times as he goes over the procedure - 'A lever-bar to pry between the receiver, cut- no. Pry the panneling with the- the lever-bar, cut it. No, cut it with the plasma.' He tries to shake it off as he rummages through his bag of tools. The hand-light is left to rest in the air, illuminating the work area on the receiver. He feels a dull pain grow against the side of his skull, though it was likely the result of this late operation. He finds himself painfully trying to concentrate just on his work, and in his attempt to rationalize the pain he was feeling had forgotten the task at hand. He furrows his brow underneath, frustratedly grabbing the tools at last and flicks on his magnetic soles. Uninterested in continuing this monotony or set of insomnia-induced restrictions any further, he rotates his body one way - preparing the lever - then rotates back again, thrusting it towards one of the gaps in the receiver's panneling.

Alpha and Bravo's doors are blown inwards, spraying bits of metal and a fiery explosion towards any unlucky sap behind them. The canvas is removed, and they drift inside. Thankfully, there are no unlucky saps at the stairway. The way down is claustrophobic, even with the freedom of zero-G, as the winding stairs create a narrow hallway. They pull and push themselves down, lower and lower. There were many flashlights to illuminate the way ahead, but those behind had theirs' shine against their comrades, making a confusing picture of light and many shadows which moved along the walls, ceiling, and floor. It did no favours for the feel of the station. When the teams finally reach the bottom level, there's a few sighs in seeing just one more door they'd need to breach through. Above the entrance was a plaque, creating a near-euphoria as if they found the afterlife itself: "Engineering." This was the last door. Teams set their plasma drills, demolitions set their explosives, and the rest set security. The space they were in was compact and claustrophobic; watches are done with men hovering over and under each other to fit, stifling maneuverability. "Engineering has been located and we are preparing our breach."

Above, two of Charlie's own float on either side of the entrance to the comms room. One of them puffs out a sigh, idly looking into it. The engineer was locked in place against the metal flooring, a lever-bar against the panels and a type of hammer in the other hand. The engineer remains still, his light shining over the point of impact. Though he does very slowly drift back, the lever-bar being brought back with him. The guard looks away from the room, watching the dark interior as assigned.

"Three...
"Two..."
"One."
The door is blown inwards, inflating the canvas from within. Alpha and Bravo remove the canvas quickly and pull themselves inside. Lights shine over a man floating inside the engineering room, instinctively attempting to suck in air. The sight was made worse when their lights reflected off something metallic in the skin - Shrapnel, likely. Alpha pulls themselves on to search for the equipment they need, and Bravo crackles in to their captain: "We've breached into Engineering. There's one alive here, sir. Definite DOA transport. He'll die on the way back."
"Understood, teams. Not your fault. Get control of the station, then we might be able to find a survivor on this blackened place. Carry on."
The engineers are extatic in finding the equipment in the room, looking over the systems to confirm they can override the doors from here. "Engineers have found the controls. We are turning off emergency status in three... two... one." With the press of a button, the station is set back to... 'normal'; the lights flick on in an instant, and the doors yet to be blown dim their red emergency lights. "We can open the doors now. Alpha's engineer will remain here to control doors and airflow."
"Copy that. Let's get moving - Barracks first."

 

[Natealie]

"Well I don't think that will be a problem. We should have the paint and we are self sufficient in regards to food and such here." She responded to the criminal. It was no big deal, and besides, perhaps this woman could also assist them. "Camilla by the way. That's my name." The posthuman told her , extending her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you."

This however was somewhat undercut by the sudden arrival of another ship. Immediately Camilla began to size the ship up, as well as those exiting it. Currently only one robotic had left the ship and was making a beeline for the supplies on the docking bay, but it was simple enough to see that there were more in the ship with her augmented eyes.

"Excuse me can I help you?" She called out to the new arrival. Apparently they had not noticed them yet. Camilla was about to put a stop to that ignorance.

Trashler Mx.Trinity Dano Vulpes

 

[Mx.Trinity]

"Ah great sounds like there's plenty to do. If you need any... illegals let me know. I can pretty much do it all." She paused before watching Camilla's arm extend and her hand open. She stepped forward as if to grab her hand but in the next moment the woman was shouting. Xi's head snapped up, her eyes scanning the area of the ship she could manage and the robot that had just clambered out the back of it. She turned to Camilla her finger inched towards the triggers once again.

"Seem's to be quite the popular place for new arrivals today, huh? You want me to take out their thrusters or leave the socializing to you?"

Xi was quite accustomed to roughing people up as her own warm welcome. Usually it didn't come to weapons that could turn sand into glass but she wanted to be sure to make a good impression on Camilla, having just showed up and all.

Natealie Trashler

 

[The J]

Marcia ran like her life depended on it. Mostly because it did, but that was beside the point - she ran as fast as she could back towards her ship. If she could just outrun it well enough, she might be able to get away or at least hit back somewhat if the beast came too close.
The plan was working for a few seconds until the mech shrugged off the huge metal beam with a few rounds and didn't even acknowledge the spray of bullets she'd sent its way. Not to mention the door that closed in front of her, completely closing off her escape, followed succinctly by the thing itself leaping behind her, making her stumble to one knee and use one hand just to keep her balance.
Looking up and turning around, the mech towered over her, dwarfing her crouched form. She instinctively kept her rifle levelled at it, but wouldn't have dared fire, and provoke it to use those enormous armaments on her in some kind of sick overkill.
"I... surrender," she said, nervously. "I'm just going to put down my gun, ok?"
Her hands moved to her rifle's strap, and she slowly and carefully took it from around her shoulders, sliding the gun to the floor and lightly pushing it towards the mech, barrel facing sideways.