Futuristic Starpath: Burning Sails [IC] [CLOSED]

[Emperor Sagan]

"Contrary to the assumptive correlation attached to the word 'children,' there is in fact no b-b-biological mother and father entity to produce these offspring, as they are not traditionally birthed in an organic matter as they are," Lucy explains, looking down at Adam, "in fact, mechanical entities created solely b-b-by my own hand. I am the creator and producer of life."

It was... unclear if Lucy meant the creator of their life in reference to the bots, or otherwise.

"Eventual functions will include reproductive replication to e-e-ensure progeny."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

“That sounds very ambitious. But...”

Again he gets low: this time to pat the toaster, definitely not something he’d ever picture himself doing in any other context. Ever.

“...I approve, and I can certainly appreciate. It is better than wrapping yourself in warm, bloody, oh-so smooth and utterly silky organic tissue...” His voice gets rather low, carrying a subtle amount of emotion deep inside. “...at least machines don’t rot.”

 

[TheFrostBible]

"Yeah, you can clean up back at the barracks. One of us probably has something you can wear. You're lucky you crashed on a pirate world. Just a couple of thousand lightyears south, and you would've came out in Yscom territory."

"Glad to hear that, I've had my fair share of trouble so I could do without right now." Francisco grinned and looked down at his jumpsuit.

"Welcome to Sielia, and say hello to some of the other members of Blackwell's Reavers. I'm Lauren Blackwell, captain of the Mordred over there and that big ass battleship being rebuilt over there."

Francisco briefly introduced himself to the present members and as he did, saw a glimpse of both ships, before he turned his face to Lauren again. "Those are quite the vessels you've got there."

"Petar Vulkov. First mate."

"Francisco Florencio San Martin, convict."

"Interesting resume, most would just show up and would have to ask, but like it or not, the boss might have made her mind up about you. Look like you've been recruited."

Francisco shrugged at the last sentence. "Don't have anywhere else to go or turn to, so why not?"

"So what are you good at? Killing shit, driving shit, fixing shit..."

"Well, Depende de la situación. My resumé includes murder, drug trafficking, racketeering and extortion. Wrongfully accused of the first one, mind you."

Francisco then finished up most of the conversations he was included in and excused himself to the newly discovered barracks.

 

[Breadman]

Petar nodded as Francisco listed off his accolades. A fine selection of skills. Would make good muscle on board. Hell, he could be more up to date with what's popular these days as far as drugs go. As he excused himself and went to the barracks, Petar looked to Lauren

"Looks like a good call. Mainly muscle work by the sounds of it, but you can never have too many of that." He scratched his beard wondering about something Francisco said "50 creds say he got framed for the murder."

 

[Infab]

"50 creds say he got framed for the murder."

"Yeah, that's usually how it goes. Anyway, see that he gets proper clothes and nothing out of Jericho's closet. Don't want him wandering around with a fuckin' bright pink shirt that says S-L-U-T on it." responded Lauren, before glancing to the others and walking up the beach. As she walked, she heard her tablet give off a noise. Sounds like she just got a message. She drew it out and checked it as she walked past where Aesha was, giving her a glance before checking her inbox.

It was a message from Slade, which she quickly opened and read. Apparently they had a potential job on their hands, but it wasn't from Slade. Instead, it was from some old family friends. "Cerulean and Saffron?" she said to herself, raising an eyebrow as she stopped walking for a moment. The two Sanghvi named Cerulean and Saffron were friends of her mother, as well as the previous employers of Taur Gorgon. They were basically twins, really, complete with the finishing of each other's sentences. Lauren always found it a bit creepy whenever she was with her mother while talking to them.

Reading over the details of the mission, it seemed more like espionage than a pirate job. Still, knowing the pair of Sanghvi, it'd pay rather well. She'd have to run the job by Petar and Zadra to get their thoughts on it. She looked back down the beach to Petar and Zadra after a moment. "HEY PETE! Meet me and Zadra in tac room when you finish helping our new friend out!" she said aloud, before turning and heading towards the tactical room inside the concrete base. They used the room really only for talking about jobs, since it had a large display in the center for scoping out planets or going over job details. They had only used it twice in the past few weeks, just to raid small freighters and such for equipment and ammo. Now they'd be using it again.

 

[Emperor Sagan]

As Typhon gently patted the toaster, the device let out a small quiet chime. It was a little 'ping' noise that often occurred when the baskets moved the food upwards when they were done cooking within the appliance. Lucy had wired the tiny bell to the internal operating system of the bot, giving it a single outlet for vocalization. No matter the emotion or information it wished to convey, it had only a single bell that it could chime at varying strengths. Since this was a soft chime... it was likely one of contentment. As Lucy didn't go into a frenzy, the bot was apparently not in distress.

The android did, however, twitch ever so slightly at Typhon's description of meat and viscera, her bladed fingers fluttering slightly at her side as if she was feeling the words out of the air.

"In time... flesh and metal... will be one and the s-s-same."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

No emotion appears on Typhon's face as he hides his repulsion at that statement as best as he can. Alarms start going off in his head that perhaps his suggestion didn't have the intended effect and accidentally created a delusion within her. A mental note was created to speak to Lauren immediately about this, lest Lucy try cyberizing someone on the crew against their will.

"Mmm. Sure, whatever you say." he says, snidely. He's got nothing else to say to the robot. Nothing that can snap her out of her delusion anyway. Only a firm plug right into her skull would fix her at this point. He retreats into the med-bay proper, maintaining eye-contact with her and locking the doors behind him so she wouldn't enter.

 

[Breadman]

"Alright." FInding clothes? Really? Well as long as he wasn't going to look like Jericho, the boss would be happy. Or maybe she would like that. Just have the new guy in a bright pink shirt too tight for him. He amused himself as he caught up to Francisco. "What size shirt do you wear?"

 

[EdwardDewey98]

Jericho walked away from the beach alongside Shelby, allowing Aesha to continue with her tan. "I like the new guy. Don't know if he'll join us, but he seems capable enough." He looked to Shelby. "Don't worry, I'm sure he's cool." He shrugs. "Then again, you're easy to judge people." he said, with a grin on his face as he teased Shelby. "You know, why don't we go and talk to Olivia?" He crossed his arms while walking along next to Shelby. "I see her lookin' at me from time to time. She seems like fun, and I know you're friends with her. So! We could have some fun together. Listen to music, dance on the beach, get wasted, you know?"

 

[TheFrostBible]

Francisco looked around the barracks' interior. He heard someone approaching and thus turned around to face said someone. "It's eh... a medium, I think?" Francisco shrugged. "I gotta be real compadre, I'm itching to wear a suit again, like I used to. Not sure if that's an option though. "

 

[Breadman]

"Medium....suit. Huh. " Petar was surprised by that. Here he thought he stuck out like a sore thumb with those suits he had received. He raised a finger pointing up and walked pat Francisco "One moment sir. I think you may be in luck."

A minute later, he would walk out of his room with one of the suits that were send to him by Samuil. "Sya. I'm not sure if Golden thread is to your liking or taste, but it's all we have currently. Older brother had a thing for old world style suits." He looked at Francisco again to judge his size by eye and then at the suit. "Might not be your exact size, but we don't have a tailor. Yet at least." Vulkov passed the suit over to the new member of the group. "If it comes to it, we can ask Jericho for a shirt, but I'm not sure the boss will be happy with me."

 

[The_Rifleman]

Jackson stepped outside into the cold night, a whole new world open to him as a multitude of sounds finally hit his ear, signals being sent to the brain, and he can actually...hear. The buzzing insects, the surf down by the beach, leaves and trees blowing in the wind. There was no way to describe what he was feeling, other than pure joy. He spend the rest of the night, and the next couple weeks getting accustomed to a new type of...living.

It's amazing how much being able to have a clear head, and think properly, will do for a man's emotions and behavior. He managed to sit down and think his life out for days. To think about his actions and the impacts the have. He began to notice how he wasn't as easily angered as before and as time went on, he no longer... yelled to hear himself often catching himself before raising his voice. The rest of his time he spent in the armory, practicing and this time using ear protection. He wasn't going to lose his newfound gift so easily. He was sure Daniel would charge him next time.

Speaking of money, Jackson finally found a comp center on the base. He was looking for something to uplink online and check his accounts through a private connection. He might not be the smartest man in the world, but when it came to his money, he knew how to play the banks, and anyone watching, to deposit his savings. Every piece of loot went directly to that account, having close to a million credits by now. One day he'll find a way to access that account and use those funds to find his White Pearl. One day.

The rest of his weeks, Jackson also spent mostly to himself as he noticed others have also distanced themselves. That's not to say he didn't have his drunken nights in the bar, or armory, or beach, or barracks, or on the ship or... well just about everywhere but they know what to expect from him by now. He spent that free time plotting. And plotting.

He was in his room, crudely taking notes on interstellar navigation from what he could find one of the data pads he looted off the a dead Upryi, when he heard a loud crash. He heard others in the hallway yelling and running, so he came out and followed making it to the beach to see a transport in the distance crash into the ocean. As the others took off after the ship to search for survivors, he stayed behind to watch the show. He took off his clothes, bar his undies, and relaxed into the sand. When the others came back with a plus one, he looked the guy up and down. Seemed to be a more... straight edge type of guy. Not really a killer vibe, but more pirates the better. Jackson kept his distance, studying the man as the others conversed with him. Soon enough, the man left to grab a change of clothes.

Jackson got up, and walked over to Aesha, Yolandi, and Karina, giving Aesha a quick look over. "Damn... I mean you look lovely this fine afternoon Ms. Aesha," before clearing his throat and lighting a cig. "What ya'll think of the new guy? Got my suspicions about people who are 'accused' of shit. Usually they pissed off someone you don't wanna piss off."

 

[Frankafurter]

Yolandi chuckles a little at Aesha's quip to Yolandi's banter, she nods to Karina then looks at Jackson and shrugs, "I'm sure everyone on the crew has pissed off people you don't want to piss off, so he's probably not unique in that regard. Either way, shower for me then kicking back in the lounge. I'll see you there, Karina." With that she heads off for the Mordred's crew deck. She's been living out of that rather than the on base barracks because she doesn't want to contend with having to deal with two living spaces. She head over to the crew showers and gets to business with scrubbing the grim off her person. She traces her fingers over the synthflesh, thinking to herself about the life she had before it. She misses being a normal human but at the same time, she's had much more life experience by her immortality. Her thoughts trail off into the depths of her memory.

- - - - - -

A woman in hospital scrubs and a datapad comes out into the waiting area that Yolandi is sitting in, "Miss... Dekker? The doctor will see you now." Yolandi nods and gets up from her seat, walking past an assortment of other patients waiting for checkups or tests. Yolandi keeps her hands in her pockets as she walks, figuring it hides the slight tremor they exhibit. She follows the nurse to a exam room and gets her vitals taken. The nurse puts down her blood pressure, weight, and updates her medical info if necessary. The nurse smiles at her and wheels the small stand of diagnostic devices out of the room, "He should be with you in a few minutes." With that, the nurse closes the door behind her and Yolandi is left to sit in the sterilized pragmatism of the hospital room. She pulls her hands out of her pockets and rubs them together, clenching her hands into fists and opening them out. Her hands tremble and the fingers twitch involuntarily occasionally.

"Few minutes my ass," Yolandi remarks to herself as the wait goes on and on. She's got an unlit cigarette hanging out of her mouth to help calm the craving that's been creeping up on her. Her anxiety has been slowly ramping up with each passing minute, her foot bobbing her knee up and down at a steady rate. She jumps slightly when the door is firmly knocked on before the doctor enters. What was implied to be a few minutes has turned into half an hour of waiting, but at least he's here. She quickly takes the cigarette out of her mouth and flicks tucks it behind her ear. The doctor gives her a thin smile, "I'm glad you didn't light that, you know hospital policy." Yolandi nods and gestures aimlessly, "Yeah, but you also took forever to get here and I'm already teetering on a nic fit now, so if we could get this over with." The doctor's thin smile falters into a grimace.

He walks over and sits down at the desk in the room that Yolandi is sitting next to, opening his portable computer, "Well, Miss Dekker, we got the results back from your scans and tests. I'm afraid none of it is good news." Yolandi frowns at this, "So, I'm basically screwed." The doctor doesn't respond to the blunt assessment by her and continues, "We understand that your family medical history lists neurological diseases, the notes stating that your mother was afflicted by Parkinson's disease and later was mixed in with Alzheimer's. That's a pretty serious risk factor for you. So this is somewhat hard to tell you but, unlike your mother, your neurological disorders are setting in much earlier. While she didn't experience them until she was just entering her sixties, you're going to get hit hard by it before you're in your thirties. You already complained of some symptoms such as persistent tremors and the occasional episode of mental dissociation. We could start treating the symptoms with medication regi--" Yolandi holds a hand up, "I'm not going to become some pill popping zombie just to give the illusion of treating it. I want it out of my life, give me options."

The doctor hesitates, "Well... I could refer you for a non-invasive surgical procedure, but it is quite expensive and given the hereditary nature of your disease, it may only 'reset' the counter on the progression of it for a few years." Yolandi grimaces, "That's not good enough, I want it gone permanently." The doctor stares a moment, "Well, there is a medical trial going on for another procedure..."

- - - - - -

Yolandi snaps back from her memory. The water from the shower having cooled a bit in temperature as the heated water reservoir for the shower area depleted from her just standing in the stream for who knows how long. She looks at her hands, clenching them into fists then opening them outwards. They don't tremble or twitch, if anything, they have a steadiness that no natural human could possess. She shuts the shower off and grabs her towel, drying herself off then wrapping herself in it to head back towards her quarters so that she can get changed into her casual clothes.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Alone again, a bitter and dying old man pretending to be a doctor, sitting angrily by himself as he tries figuring out which second of which minute of which hour will be his last. Head bowed, he stares at his reflection in the polished floor. At least, he’ll die in a clean environment.

Still, that preserved body he has in cold storage held all the answers to saving his life, and those of his brethren. It was still on the slab, but now had various machinery, sensors, wires, and nodes hooked up to it all over its body. With a flick of a switch, the heart would start beating again, blood would start flowing, nerves would be stimulated, and it’d be heated to feel ‘alive’. Though mercifully, this did nothing to bring the dead carcass back to life. It wasn't supposed to anyway, instead Typhon had another purpose in mind. One of its arms was gone, and in its place was an arm from an Artisynth. Experiments were conducted day in and day out to get the arm to be accepted by the rest of the body, but all attempts have failed as the body often rejected the synthetic limb. If he could just find a way to make humanoid body parts compatible with Artisynth bodies and vice versa, degeneration would finally be conquered and Typhon would finally be cured. But this didn't happen, and hasn't for as long as he’s conducted experiments to find a solution. Moloch had found out the secret of compatibility long ago, but his secret died with him, and now nobody knows.

Unfortunately, before Typhon is able to contemplate methods he hasn’t tried yet, his communicator goes off in his pocket. Someone was calling him. It was Lionshead! He answered it quickly, not wanting to keep his boss waiting.

“[Typhon.]” says Lionshead, voice deep as ever.

Typhon didn't say anything, preferring a rush of air exhaling from his mouth to signal his presence in place of a proper greeting.

It didn't work. “[Are you receiving?]” he pressed.

“[...I am.]” Typhon speaks quietly. “[What do you want of me?]”

“[Nothing major. A simple status report is all. You've not called in any so far, and you've not responded to any of my queries regarding them.]” a stern tone was preset, his boss wasn't happy.

“[... I’m sorry.]”

Typhon heard a long sigh from the other end. “[You know why I need these, especially from you, old friend... So... What do you have for me today? Where have they taken you now?]”

“[Sielia. It’s in the Krael system. We’re sitting around here on our collective buttocks, simmering down since days ago we raided a cargo ship those German vampires owned. The Ironbloods are here too, and even Slade showed up. Well, except for one of his eyes unfortunately. That one decided to stay behind on Prospera.]”

“[Ha!... And what about the crew so far? Have they been treating you right? What can you tell me about them?]”

Typhon checks to make sure the door is locked. “[How about I tell you... what they aren't? They’re certainly not as tough as the old Reaves were, that’s for sure. The captain, first mate, head engineer, and the quatermaster are good for it, but the rest of the crew... Why, I just don’t know. They don’t look like ready to stomach the path they've now damned themselves to walk on.]”

“[Really now?]”

“[Most certainly, old friend. We've even got a little child in tow as well. Thought it was the captain’s daughter at first, but unfortunately she wasn't.]”

“[Wow... A child. They’re that desperate, aren't they?]”

“[Like beggars in the street, they were. Then again, I can’t blame them. That Nazi bitch really fucked them hard.]”

“[Well... Listen now. If you’re having second thoughts, it’s not too early to come back. A crew as naive and amateurish as you say they are isn't one worth wasting your skills on.]”

“[What are you implying here?]”

“[Might I also add, our most ‘generous of patrons’ has put a massive bounty on the Reavers, and I’ll be damned if I see your head brought before them for it.]”

“[... How much?]”

“[More than you could ever want. It’s enough to let us afford all the cybernetics we want to replace these dying shells called ‘bodies’ we've been cursed with! An amount large enough to fund your research for several life times!... That is the price put on the Reavers by them. They’ll pay anyone handsomely enough, just like they did with us last time.]”

Typhon’s mind starts racing at this, knowing exactly what his boss is goading him to do: stabbing the Reavers in the back. He knows exactly who his boss is referring to, and he knows how much they’re willing to pay. After all, without the genocide at Kästner’s Hope, would Typhon have survived to live to this day without the cybernetic organs bought with the money they paid him? He knows he wouldn't, so he’d have to think deeply about it. “[May I... call you again at a later time? This is... this is rather...]”

“[I understand, but listen now. Please be safe, not for me, but for all of us. I don’t think I could take it if we hear you've been killed... We've already lost one back at Rook’s Wharf...]”

“[I know, but I need to think about this. Goodbye, Amon.]”

“[Farewell.]”

So now it’s come to this. Could he really do it? The amount of people that trust Typhon are very low, but could he bring himself to abandon and betray those that do? Would he really sink that low? Then again, he’s already at the very bottom, so maybe he wouldn't think twice... The only thing that’s guaranteed is that time will tell what he’ll do.

 

[KRIY]

Derrick was taking his time behind the bar, feet up the counter watching a late night sitcom and searching up news on the side while twirling a pencil absentmindedly in his right hand. If anything. this was boredom at its fine nature. and it was horrible. after awhile, he sighs and then closes his Holopad and stood up from his chair. maybe some light walking would suffice. he hasn't really paid much thought of the ship's surroundings so maybe Its best for him to see more to the ship than it really is. before leaving the counter. he noticed one of Lauren's favorite drinks on a separate stand. away from the rest of the other drinks

"Maybe.... I can take a little sip of it- NO. Derrick. this isn't a time to get yourself in danger again.... and also wasted."

He soon snapped out of his curious state and started to walk around the crew quarters on the ship taking notes of every nook and cranny there is.

And then he trips over a thick cable wire. landing face first with a thud. of the action typically known as "Eating shit."

He quickly gets up. and looked over and hoped that no one saw his "brain-tard moment" and continued walking, liked it never happened. he soon spotted a door that was not all the way closed and with light passing through it. he looked over to the name-tag and saw "Albert". Derrick remembered his brief talk with Albert about his past. he decided to knock on his door.

"Hello? Albert? Its me, Derrick."

 

[TheFrostBible]

"Nah, this will do just fine amigo. I'll get myself out of these prison rags and burn 'em, unless someone has a thing for soaked orange jumpsuits around here."

Francisco excused himself once more, this time to change his wardrobe. Once done, he returned to the barracks' main room with the empty orange rags around his arm.

"Right, where can I dump this?"

 

[Breadman]

"You can find a trash compactor in the mess hall somewhere." Petar answered while pointing with a thumb to it's location. "That or just start a bonfire on the beach to get rid of those. Give Vance an excuse for a cook something again." He joked before continuing "I'll be meeting with the boss in a few. Make yourself at home. Pick a room, meet the others. Aide."

Vulkov went back inside his quarters and emerged soon after in his civilian clothing. He straightened his shirt. Time for work. Calmly walking out the barracks, he made his way towards the tactical room.

 

[joshuadim]

Albert barely registered Derrick's knocks on his door for a few moments as he was busy with writing. He had his full concentration on the pages in front of him, and it took a few moments of awkward silence for Albert to realize that someone was at his door. He looked forward for a moment, somewhat confused as to why Derrick would visit him before answering. "Uh... come in?"

---

After observing the newcomer for a bit, Vance opted to take a walk around the area to think a bit more. Perhaps someone on the crew could help him with his dilemma? He thought for a moment and decided that perhaps a doctor might be able to explain. As such, he made his way over to Typhon's work station to talk. "Hey doc, how's it goin'?"

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Typhon lifts his head so his faded eyes would meet Vance’s.

“Going nowhere, that’s what. What is it that you need today, Mr. Vance?”

 

[joshuadim]

"Well... it's a bit, er, complicated." Vance said as he looked out at the hall to make sure no one was nearby before closing the door behind him. "I've had a... thing, happen a couple weeks ago. It might sound insane but... alright let me start at the beginning. We got back from our first raid here, so I went into the jungle to test my reflexes while running. I was pushing myself, making sure I was in top shape. But then I started to, uh, glow." he explained to Typhon.

"I know it sounds crazy, but I know what I saw. I've been trying ever since to recreate that to no avail... any ideas on what that might've been?" he asked.

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

“Glow?...” Either Mr. Vance is super radioactive, or he was tripping hard on drugs. Typhon prays to god it’s not because of the former. “...Was it you who played around in the engine coolant?”

 

[joshuadim]

"What? No! I'm not an engineer of any kind sir... I'm just perplexed by all this." he replied. "I mean... this has never happened to me before, not even during stressful situations. Like, I know that I'm different. But this wasn't ever explained nor expected by the eggheads back home."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

So it wasn’t him? Oh well. Whoever did that in for an earful by the engineers though.

“Explain... how different are we talking here.”

 

[joshuadim]

"Well, eh, it's better if I show you." Vance replied as he walked over to one of the larger tables in the medbay. He grabbed it with one hand and proceeded to lift it over his head with ease, he hoped that this visual would help explain to the doctor what he meant. "They told me I was a new breed of soldier. Stronger and faster than any human can hope to possibly be. And the main doc, Ahnberg, she told me that it was a Gift... or something along those lines."

 

[ANIMAL MOTHER]

Typhon slowly starts trying to think of possibilities of what this 'gift' could be. Vance possibly has cybernetic modifications, gene editing, or is just using plain and simple steroids. He's seen all three before, though none of these would explain the glowing.

"So you've been physically enhanced. Since you don't seem to have any cybernetics, I assume this was done genetically?"