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Futuristic The Frontier Initiative - IC/Main


Viper Actual

Ask me about my tourniquet fetish.
Endeavor Armory

13 took a step back from the spilled coffee and withstood the numerous questions from the overly excited pilot. He began to look for rags or something suitable to clean the mess when the pilot's immediate response to the issue was to toss his jacket on it. "Oh," 13 said not satisfied to see someone use their jacket so carelessly. He turned to the SecDiv officer in charge of the weapons table to ask for a rag when a woman who did not take kindly to such a hasty issue to the mess spoke up. He spoke up and addressed the weapon smith. "A rag we can use for the mess, please."

The weapons keeper tossed 13 a rag and he deftly caught it and bent down to pick up the jacket and tidy the spilled coffee. He wiped off what he could from the jacket as well and stood offering it to Pilot Sirosky. "The pilot here was attempting to clean a slight mess. And I was hoping to answer a question for him. You are welcome to watch my demonstration if you like." He said in a cheery tone.

Dell took the offered jacket, slinging it back on immediately despite the sleeve still being soaked and causing lukewarm coffee to soak into his shirt underneath. To his credit, he genuinely didn't seem to mind, giving 13 his thanks before drinking from his pot.

He didn't know what the deal was with the looks the SecDiv officers were giving him, but needless to say, they were not appreciated. Contempt? Annoyance? Distrust? Was it his accent? Well, it wasn't really a big deal. No skin off his back, right? He didn't need their approval, they were practically glorified mall cops. The only reason he could see there being a SecDiv in the first place was to keep the colonists in line. After all, what kind of action were they expecting a year and a half away from Sol? Well, a lot, if 13's Anti-Material rifle was any indication, but that looked like a personal effect.

Dell gave the woman complaining about his jacket the barest look of offense. It may be marred by coffee stains, grease, oil, a concerning amount of rocket fuel, and other unidentifiable liquids but he'd had the thing for years now and it held a place in his heart, like how the bobby pin held the left sleeve in place.

"I'm not dignifying that with a comeback," Dell stated, because he genuinely couldn't be assed.

"What sort of 'demonstration'?" Asked the SecDiv officer before glancing over to Dell. She grunted and smirked ever so slightly before leaning in towards him, arms still crossed. "That's 'I'm not dignifying that with a comeback, ma'am' to you, hot-shot."

Her gaze shifted back towards 13. "Let's get on with whatever it is the two of you were doing before I toss you out." Almost on-cue, some of the other SecDiv members seemed to perk up and closed in the distance slightly to 13 and Dell while also forming a wall facing them.

Despite his intention 13 had drawn a small crowd now. But instead of bothering with embarrassment, he withdrew the small bag of bread pilot Sirosky had originally given him. "We will promptly be on our way once I have shown Pilot Sirosky," 13 dangled the bag of bread in the air for everyone to see. "How I can toast bread." He opened the small pouch and fished out the two pieces of bread.

"While the exact nature of my power supply is classified it may come as no surprise that a byproduct of my power is heat. Under normal operation, I would never generate enough heat to for anyone to notice." 13 took the bread in one hand and handed Pilot Sirosky the bag. "Please hold that." He held the bread in place against his chest piece to anyone listening intently enough that his cooling fans quit running. "However if I put myself in a high power mood and disable my cooling systems, I should be able to heat my armor to the 176 Celsius necessary to toast bread." 13 stopped talking for a moment and tilted his head slightly. "Interesting, it is more difficult to modulate the rising temperature than I expected." A fan clicked on and off again somewhere in the robot and after a few moments, the armor on his chest began to signs heat and the faint aroma of cooking bread began to travel in the space. "Almost there." 13 said as he flipped the bread over.

Soon enough the bread reached an appropriate golden brown on both sides. He lowered his hand from his chest and offered the toasted slices of bread as his fans kicked on and began working to cool his body again. "I should have brought butter, it would be a shame for this to go to waste pilot."

Roll: 7

With visible suspense the crowd of SecDiv operators- including the female officer that had questioned the two newcomers regarding their activities- watched in silence as 13 expertly toasted the slices of bread.

Clearly impressed as the hyper-lethal state-of-the-art killbot displayed the results of this unorthodox experiment murmurs and nods of approval spread throughout the crowd.

"Well, I'll be damn. A literal toaster-bot," muttered the officer while slowly shaking her head. She followed up her statement by slowly clapping her hands- a gesture which was mirrored by several others in the crowd.

A pair of LogDiv techs peeked inside, wondering what the fuss was about just as one of the SecDiv operators cheered on 13.

The officer then extended her hand towards both 13 and Dell; "I'm Casey. Red Rock Private Security, as are most of the guys in here."

"WHOO-What, nothing? Slow claps? Really?" Dell had stopped mid-cheer, looking around judgingly at the perceived lack of enthusiasm before snorting and taking a slice of toast from 13's hand to show he was just fucking with them. "Don't need butter, 3PO," Dell said nonchalantly before dipping the toast into his coffee and biting into it. You know, like a fucking lunatic.

Munching on the toast, Dell wiped the crumbs onto his pant leg before taking Casey's hand. "Delano Sirosky, I spent a few years with Red Rock too, now I'm stuck with Herschel Industrie and Enw-entchwi-enzw-Blyad," English wasn't Dell's first language, in fact, it was somewhere around his fourth, so tongue-twisters always screwed him over, "Well, however the hell you pronounce the second part."

With the exception of Pilot Sirosky, people shared moderate applause and nods of approval. Considering all he had done was make toast this seemed appropriate. "Toaster bot may be an oversimplification, however, I am pleased to add it to my list of skills." 13 eyed the pilot curiously as he took the toast and ate it after dipping it in the coffee. He was not familiar with the taste of coffee or toast but knew this was not a normal habit for enjoying toast. He started to wonder as to the sanity of this pilot based on his erratic behavior so far. Perhaps he was just an over-exuberant individual. Something of a common thread among pilots.

13 let Sirosky introduce himself first and met the proffered hand of Casey after. "You can call me 13 I'm with Bishop Global Armaments and hopefully I'm the smartest toaster you ever meet." He had wanted to correct his new comrade in the pronunciation of Entwicklung but decided that the pilot did not really need the help. It was part of his charm so far.

Casey shook Dell's and 13's hands without replying to the former's open-ended statement. She did however nod towards 13. "You bet, thus far you're already putting the automated infantry units on-base to shame simply through being capable of having a conversation."

As Casey spoke the crowd of SecDiv staff dispersed with some giving Dell and 13 taps on the shoulders and nods of approval. For what it's worth they had already managed to get in good standing with the grease monkeys playing around with firearms- which isn't all too bad considered the nature of Krasivyy's fauna and flora.

"Nothing quite like trying to crack a joke at a machine that only understands tactical commands and binary," said Casey while shaking her head. "That said, welcome to Endeavor and Krasivyy. Don't hesitate to stop if you need any help." She narrowed her eyes slightly.

"Just don't mess up my floor again."

Calibutcher Calibutcher Togy Togy

LogDiv Dormitories

"Glad to hear something's already lined up, I was itching to get in on the action; I'd be happy to join the expedition. Will there be a briefing prior to sallying out or are we going in blind?"

Hendricks chuckled. "There'll be two briefings- one from the corporate folks and one from the UN liaisons. Both parties are pretty invested in using big words but it all boils down to safety rules, weather reports, equipment checks and a buncha' other hoopla."
The heavy man gestured towards Burke. "Make sure to be at the mess by dawn. I'll forward the details to you digitally. Your private gear should be fine alongside whatever the colonial admins pass for an emergency kit."

Carl sighed and nodded. "Make sure to get enough hours in the bunk. Your first weeks are going to be tough with your body getting used to all the lovely warmth and moisture that Krasivyy has to offer."

The Jenkins Curse The Jenkins Curse

DevDiv Laboratories

Unlike the rest of the general areas housed within the central colony complex the DevDiv labs were much sturdier and reinforced all-around. Upon entering the lab entrance Andrew would note that the bulkhead separating the labs from the general hallways was unusually thick- much like that on a cargo freighter or warship in space.

Secondly he would notice the various security measures in place;

Cameras, motion trackers, metal detectors, an airlock and a manned reception desk.

Flanking the reception desk on either side were two SecDiv officers. Aside from holsters and pistol magazines the two guards were also equipped with their own ultra-light carbines and low-profile body-armor bearing the symbol of Red Rock Private Security. Both of the guards stared at Andrew as he entered the check-in area but soon enough refocused their attention to the wall in front of them.

As he approached the receptionist looked up from behind her holographic monitor. She was young, most likely in her early twenties, with pale and delicate features. Her hair was tied up into a bun that bobbed slightly as she looked up and greeted Andrew with a well-practiced smile. In a way she was the opposite of the two guards flanking her, of which both looked like armed gorillas in corporate gear.

"Hello, welcome to the labs." She said. "You're one of the new arrivals, right?"

A sturdy-looking datapad was produced from behind the desk and placed at the top. "I'll need your hand- and eye-biometrics here as well as a signature on the NDA. Standard protocol."

Holyhalo Holyhalo


Worthless pleb
Leo Beckett Cohen, Calypso's Corporate Covert Operative

After the separation of the group, Leo ever the affable rogue that he is managed to sneak away from the prying eyes of the SecDiv guards, who in retrospect appear more paramilitary than the rent-a-cops that the operative arrogantly imagined them. He preferred it this way, the sneaking. Plain clothes, a smile beneath his blond hair, and the little hidey-holes created by inadvertent design, human inattentiveness, and light absence. The directions that he received, memorised, then stored away during the infiltration briefing are being put to the test. The station had an element of the labyrinthine, but nothing that Leo could not handle.

Turning the corner, he stepped at an injunction between two hallways. One stretching off into the distance, another ending in a dead-end next to what Leo assumes to be a closet or janitorial room. Taking a right into the dead-end hallway, Leo crouched down and moved a pair of containers, likely recyclable waste, behind them was hidden in the damp, dust flaked corner a datapad with slimmed down proportions and a darker finish. "Bingo," Leo mouthed as his hands reached to pick it up. He placed a thumb on the screen, awakening with a blue tint. Biometric activation, nice.

A terrible twist of fate occurred as the screen showed a countdown to decryption, Leo wanted to sigh but snapped his fingers instead. Pocketing the furtive pad into his duffel, the corporate agent masked an everyday LogDiv worker meandered his way back to the dormitories in time to catch the Hendricks fellow and heavyset man conversing.

"Hello, hello." Says Leo with a pep in his voice and a wave from the door. "Got sidetracked by corporate, you know how it is,"

Viper Actual Viper Actual The Jenkins Curse The Jenkins Curse

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