[Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01 — Legacy Forums

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#81

In space, shot timing was even more important than in atmosphere. Hitting the target was a combination of raw skill, a good PMP (Potential Motion Plotter) targeting device, and more than a smidgen of luck. Mach relied more on the third than the first two as he lined up his next set of shots towards the retreating pirate ship. Perhaps in the future he would rely more on the first two, but for now, he was stuck with the third.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#82

The Cyber Plane

As the shell of the electronic world begins to weave itself around Alice, he can see the rainbow snowflake cloud of shimmering EMP, each one that flickers against his avatar burning, a frozen flame of chaos. Still, the inimitable path is threaded, the seed of the jamming algorithm match for the precious milliseconds required to tap automatic access to laser communications, the tight beam near immune to the EMP, allowing the interface of the pirate vessel to manifest itself, resolving as a seventeenth century schooner.

Yet, as he sneaks slowly across the deck towards the main mast, intent on cutting the sails, the squawk of a parrot sounds, and the guardian begins to wake, the ice showing itself as a black-swathed pirate, a pulse of viral code pounding against the man's defenses, the hastily raised firewall, holding for the moment.

Hard Vacuum

Meanwhile, it is almost as one that the fighters of the ragtag freelancer group manage to cause their guns to converge upon the enemy, mass and energy converging in a raging fury of destruction, the pirate fighter unfolding in a lotus blossom of light and heat.

As well, Mach finds his mark at last, one massive slug deflecting from the heavy armor of the pirate mothership, ringing it like a bell, while the other sinks home, pounded in even deeper by the massive rock that slams into like a great hammer striking oversized nail, real snow following behind it now, as the water swirls from the ship's enormous reaction mass tanks, scattering and boiling into tiny crystals of ice in the deep vacuum.

Finally, the Karloff's smart systems make their report, "The ship is not broadcasting in radio, ansible, or laser, Master. The deck light of their cockpit is flashing in a regular pattern. Six short flashes, three long flashes. Attempting cross reference."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#83

Snowy reaction mass urging his trigger finger, Mach watched his reload timer count it's way back down to zero. A faster reload time would also be moved up on his list for the future. Perhaps he could extract something from one of the destroyed pirate vessels, if there were anything worthwhile left floating in the aftermath. The instant the timer hit zero, a thick Oraki finger punched the firing button, sending two metal rounds flying toward the retreating pirate mothership.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#84

Erik scowls at the pirate mothership, and quickly plays the odds in his head. Wounded, finally, the pirate C&C vessel comes in higher on the list now, and he again plots a firing trajectory on the retreating hulk, even as the reaction mass quickly boils into space and flash-freeze against the void. Once again, the dull thump is felt throughout the vessel's body as another slug of nickel-iron is flung through the void after the retreating vessel.

On the commlink, the Salvorathan hails his fellow freelancers. "I don't suppose any of y'know what six short flashes followed by three long flashes would mean? My ship's reportin' a deck light on the freighter we've come to the rescue of stobin' that pattern."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#85

"No idea, though keep an eye out for ambushes!" Kestral said into the mic. Meanwhile, he armed the fighter's missile(rocket really) launcher and lined up his fighter with the retreating mothers hip. If his teammates heavy weapons didn't do the job, one of these might.

"If it is an ambush, this has been expensive bait.."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#86

Danasheth silenced the damage messages blinking across her panels, and tuned up the sensors, on the lookout for anything save the retreating pirate freighter - there was little sense in firing her light weapons at it.

Was there anything else? The black depth of space owed her an answer.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#87

As your heavy munitions hiss across the void, they make their final impact into the retreating pirate ship, and at last, the enemies engines fall dead, the spray of snow and a curling prominence of blue a brief and even beautiful obituary for the powerplant of the ship. As the actinic arc of artificial solar flame dissipates, the corpse of the ship continues its drift towards the wasteland between the stars, while the crew within dances in panic, maggots giving false life to the body with their motion.

Save the flashing light of the wounded merchantman, there is little to be found here but billowing clouds of vapor, occasionally tinking with the impact of light and simple debris against the hulls of the fleet. Active sensors, too, are able to find larger pieces, the twisted remains of the fighters that held this battle, though they cannot tell you if worthwhile salvage remains within them.

Aboard the merchantman, the flashing lights spread through several other view ports, each calling out the same staccato pattern, though all over they are out of phase with one another, the pattern of short, short, short, pause, short, short, short, pause, long, long, long, pause, short, short, short, pause, short, short, short, pause, long, long, long, pause, repeating its urgent piece of code.

As Danasheth stares out into the depths of space, the burning pinpricks of starlight stare back, uncowed by the brilliant green dot that is Sabrontir, its distance giving courage to them, as they stand bright and steady, save the chance moments when they hide behind one of the scattered pieces of hull. For a moment, the tiny alien's eyes focus on a single star, twinkling through the colors of the rainbow, for a few tens of seconds, until it recedes and is gone, among the thousand other punctures in the veil of the void.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#88

Erik grunts as he takes in the aftermath, and the spread of blinking lights catches his attention; he scowls as he runs some estimates in his head, and keys the rest of the little freelance fleet. "It looks like we've got survivors aboard the merchantman, probably more than I can safely carry unless the crew is Salvorathan - and their ship doesn't look near to warm enough for them to be cousins of mine. Mach, Alice, we're goin' to need to arrange to relay people from the hulk to y'two, no matter what. We might be able to cobble a rough repair to their vessel, to let them limp back to station, if we cannibalize those wrecks... But we have to get the survivors to where we can do triage, first."

As he speaks, the Salvorathan is beginning to maneuver his vessel in toward the crippled merchantman, turning his engineer's eye toward the best spot to dock with the other vessel, be it at an actual airlock or a forced docking. No matter the outcome, rare was the Salvorathan willing to let another die a slow, prolonged death aboard a crippled vessel. To their people, even the harsh brutality of being spaced was preferable to the slow death by cold and darkness such a wreck would give. "If nothin' else, the survivors will be more inclined to remember us favorably, and I'm sure y'know just how valuable that kind of goodwill can be."

A glance at the now-silent blip of the pirate C&C vessel brings a scowl to his features. "Meanwhile, perhaps someone should see about givin' the mercy of the void to that other hulk's inhabitants, so that we can see about harvestin' spare parts from it."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#89

Danasheth shuddered at the idea of letting the pirates die in the cold wreck, even though she knew very well that exactly that was the right punishment. To fight imagination and get her mind off the brooding, she quickly answered on the comm. "I will enter the merchantman, and steer the survivors towards the exit. Be ready to pick them up, Alice."

What you wish done upon you...

She foled her antennae and put on her suit's helmet. Kizor chirped in his safe-box, and Danasheth checked the seals, before draining the oxygen from the cockpit even as the magnetic clasps of her fighter locked on the much larger ship's hull, resembling a barnacle. Stomping with her magnetic boots, she proceeded to the freighter's airlock. "We're coming to pick you up. Permission to enter?"

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#90

"Just give me the vectors to where I should punch the holes folks. "

Kestral waited for the directions to stream into his computers, ready to send railgun slugs to deliver the Coup de gr?ce.

"Do we have lifeform reading on these? I've got a bad feeling about this. Just how big a crew do they have?"

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#91

As the computer finally manages its final lock on, Kestral's guns sound once more, the tiny fighter thumping with the recoil of those few ounces of iron jumping to lethal velocity. The distances are long, and as silicon eyes watch the flight of the projectiles, the idling expert systems of the fighter respond to the query, calling up the statistics of the identifiable merchantman. While the ship's systems are not sensitive enough to detect the markings of life, the vessel has a typical crew of 20, though their purposes are undetailed in the slim database it is attached to.

For long moments, there is radio silence from the merchantman, only the flashing light in response to all attempts to communicate.

Meanwhile, it is with something akin to luck and skill that Erik Starvoid manages to slide a docking adaptor across to the injured ship, a complex dance of orbit around the slowly rotating vessel, whereupon he disappears within, shortly before Danasheth lands and stomps her way across the hull towards a second airlock.

As Erik enters the ship, it is in front of a half a dozen small arms trained upon him by a motley assortment of men, women, and darkly-shaded midgets, as their leader growls across the thin atmosphere, "Friend or Foe, shorty?"

To this, Erik shows his empty hands, his dry response echoing in his ears above the raspy breaths drawn in the room. "If I were foe, I think I'd be usin' my plasma torches to vent your atmosphere instead of dockin', wouldn't I? Y'can stand easy - I've a grudge against void vermin like the ones that were chewin' on you."

"Good point. Weapons down, men, I think he's alone." The rifle barrels come down, as they slowly come up out of their defensive positions. "Sorry about the welcome, but half of them bastards are slavers. Our comms are out, our engines are beaten up, and our engineer is sucking vacuum."

"Slavers. Pfeh." The noise indicates quite well Erik's opinion of slavers. "I'd gathered from the blinking lights that y'were havin' comm trouble." The squat Salvorathan, giving off every appearance of not giving a damn that there were weapons pointed at him moments before, eases himself forward. "On the plus side for y'lot, however, I'm a ship engineer, and a fairly good one if I say so - though I know y'softgenes take issue with the kind of safety measures I'm used to." The teeth flash in a sardonic grin. "The name's Erik, of Clan Starvoid. My ship back there is the Karloff. Do y'think y'could limp to station if I can get your engines in roughly working order, captain, or do y'have wounded who need evac?"

"At least the old standby still works, huh?" As the merchant captain shrugs, he steps back, waving Erik in the general direction of the engine bay. "We've got atmosphere. I think they wanted to sell the ship off, too. But if you can jump our mains, or hell, just give us a push in the right direction, we can probably limp on in. As for the wounded.. well, we've got an honest medicine man. Can patch us up without putting us in the oven."

Erik gives a nod, and kicks a bit harder into the ship. "Good enough, then. It's good to know y've got a competent stitcher on board - most ships' captains seem to think an expert system and some scramblebrain with a PADD manual is overkill." He produces, from somewhere in the sealed pockets of his jumpsuit, a wrinkled-looking foil wrapper, quickly peeled from a hideously grey-hued protein bar, which he promptly bites a chunk off of; combat, even as simple as one as his part had been, made him hungry. "Right, then. Show me the drive room, and I'll see if I can patch y'up enough to limp home, or if we'll be needin' to play at being in some flatlander carnival cars."

"Company regs." The captain sticks out his tongue, then actually laughs. "'sides, after one of them put my guts back in, I don't mind it so much. Don't ever catch the Angolan Striped Flu. And if I didn't know how irradiated that damn bar was, I'd tell you to get that biohazard off my ship." For a moment, he turns, and bellows. "Gom! Take this gentleman down to engineering, and help him with whatever he needs." It is another Salvorathan that jets his way forwards then, to the edge of the entry bay, before he twists to look at Erik, his orientation more or less upside down in respect to Starvoid, and most of the rest of the room, in fact.

Erik smirks at the captains quip about the bar being a biohazard as he tears off another bite - the way softgenes compared it to well-aged rat never ceased to amuse him. "Gom, eh?" He presumes the other caught his introduction to the captain, giving his fellow Salvorathan a pleasant nod of greeting. "Good to meet y', cousin, and glad of any aid y'can lend." No longer concerned by the softgenes, Erik doesn't put much effort into maintaining his own orientation to what the rest of the crew is maintaining, drifting slightly clockwise from his perspective from the effort of tearing the ration bar.

The other Salvorathan just nods solemnly in greeting, twisting his body as he jets and pings off the walls. As Erik follows him through the surprisingly large ship, it becomes clear exactly what he is, as he must frequently stop to wait for the other space dwarf, though Erik knows he must be actually moving slower than him, on average - the man is a pilot, and a skilled one at that, for no more optimal path exists that the one he has been taking. When the two reach a portal, he points through it, then gestures to his lips, taking a deep breath.

And as Gom and Erik reach the Engineering, there is an incoherent squeal on the radio, quite possibly from the merchantman, stopping abruptly, and silence reigns from within once more.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#92

Danasheth entered the ship soon after Erik; the atmosphere was thin, with strands of smoke wafting through it. She'd rather keep her helmet on.

The survivors were confused and scared, certainly not a military crew. She singled out the most sober-minded of them. "Help is coming to pick you up, we'll tow the ship. Tell the others to gather the wounded and anything essential, like medicines, and to leave everything unimportant here. Is everybody accounted for? If so, just point me towards your center for damage control, to see what I can do."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#93

The loader drone made its way slowly over the pitted hull of Old Ben, its locking pitons attaching and detaching slowly from the hull's mountpoints in typical machine deliberateness.

The remains of the brutal fight morbidly glittered through the viewport, an unwelcome reminder that a short few moments ago, a glowing fragment had traversed this very bridge. Only luck and the skills of his comrade meant that Alice was looking at this scene from the right side of the crystal glass.

By the time the reactor mass leak had been hastily plugged by the drone, Alice had calculated a solution to lock with the slowly spinning merchantman, which, with both Erik's and Dana's Ships already docked, was turning into a crowded place.

Tightcasting to the Karloff, Alice sent his message straight to Erik and Dana on the inside, his voice betraying some of the emotions he felt: "Eric, Dana, I'm on my way. Do you need any materials?"

Toggling off the comm channel Alice turned towards the central console: "Maia, Is Titus ready to help out or is he still fixing our leak?"

Before grabbing his beltkit, Alice bend down over the console to message Eric and Dana on the merchantman "I'm going to connect my ship systems to yours. Standby for power."

"Maia, boost core power to maximum, and switch on the backup systems. I'll manually patch us onto the ship, when its done give them all we have. Patch all comms to my suits. I'm going for an EVA. Open the docking airlock too, and switch our air circulation to max, I'm sure they could use some fresh air."

Having already got into his suit, Alice bumbled to the airlock, not before grabbing the rest of his toolkit.

Needless to say, the battered crew of the merchantman was more than surprised to be greeted by Alice's disembodied voice when the doors opened: "Oh, Hi, Don't mind me, I'm outside plugging into your ship's systems. Be back in a jiffy! The workshop is on you left as you come in, help yourselves to anything you need!"

Titus is the drone. Attempt build/repair spaceship roll at 6 to patch Old Ben's systems onto the merchantman to return power, air filtration, etc, etc when done, coming back in for a face to face meeting with the crew of the merchantman

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#94

As Danasheth enters the vessel, attention is certainly paid, at least once she is through the airlock. The closest crewman is a large Ssaratha, his gliding membranes flushed with blood, a symbol of stress. While confusion appears to reign throughout the ship, at least upon the surface, the command structure is strong, and this one is high in it, grabbing crewmen and shouting at them as they pass, his lizardlike accent thick and strong. The boarder, too, is accosted nearly as soon as she enters, a his scaly face drawing back into a tight grin as he listens to her. It is not a pleasing sight, nor does any happiness lurk behind it. "Tow? Yesss, kids, unless ones of those void-breathers is able to get the engine going, we're goings to needs a slings, but we can'ts moves the hurts out of sick bays untils the bone-saws is dones. We have airs, at leasts in some places, just not thrusts!"

Following Gom's gesture, Erik draws in several breaths, purging his lungs and hyper-oxygenating his blood, before the other space-dwarf palms open the doorway, opening directly onto the void that is the engine room. Exposed directly to space, the nictating membrane close over each Salvorathan's eyes, and while Erik propels himself into the chamber, digging for his multi-tool, Gom hangs back, holding fast to a panel near the doorway.

Surprisingly, the tremendous room is in good shape, it's just been dumped into the void, and had some very critical lines ruptured. Specifically, the main fuel line into the fusion generator has been severed, and it hisses hydrogen into the void, the liquid flow boiling away into tiny flakes, not entirely unlike snow. It is with great effort, and a heavy heave on his breath-pack that Erik is able to twist the manual shut off to the line. The automatics, it seems, are vapor expanding into the void now.

Working on the instinct of a packrat, Erik then patches the line. Invoved are no more, and no less, than the former engineer's chair, some of the cooling slag of the previous wall, bubblegum, and a healthy portion of the irradiated ration that he had been previously eating. Sturdy, no, close to gas tight, yes. A quick scan of the system, and he locates a small leak to the coolant lines, a bit more of his gunk reparing that, and clearing the way for a slow rise of the reactor containment. Slow and steady wins the day here as well, for on the way up, the dwarf is forced to realign a single magnet on the containment field - a simple repair, but critical to the non-explosion of the reactor. The ship will still need its time in drydock, but now it just might be able to get there, if it is not attacked again.

As the reactor comes up, all and sundry can feel the hum of the ship begin anew, life-support reappearing with a surprising thump throughout the hull as the fans begin to blow air once more, at least to the segments that the computer can see as still having pressure. A quick check more, and Erik and Gom begin to withdraw, towards the ship itself, as it begins to thrum with the live feeling of a running reactor.

Across the merchantman, a ragged cheer goes up, lead by the mate that Danasheth had confronted. "Ssss! Perhaps we pulls into docks after all." His clawed forefinger points up the hallways, then, as he looks in it. "Go thats ways, though, little spacers. The Captains will wants to speaks with yous."

Meanwhile, as Alice sorties outside his own ship, the full extent of the damage to Old Ben becomes apparent. It is disheartening to look at, at first, but the availability of relatively simple machining tools will make somewhat sturdier repairs possible, though again, dry-dock time will be desirable. Still, with determination in head, the basic repairs to make the ship habitable are relatively easily accomplished, between robot and master, sealant being deployed as neccesary. As the hookups to the other ship are made, direct line comms with them finally coming on line, the quick identification of friend, rather than foe, and the request coming down to Alice for plate metal and maybe a radio unit if one can be spared. While the radio is simple for Alice to supply, the hull plating required is enough to put a serious strain on the Old Bens current raw material storage, if it is supplied in full.

(OOC: Repair is a success. Old Ben is functional, but not up to 'combat shape'. You can act without penalty, but your 'hp' is still redlined.)

As the others work on the injured merchant man, Kestral has been flying overwatch, pulling a simple orbit, while trying to pick out the choicer bits for salvage. Some tempting bits float - entire wings and turrets, as well as a few small cargo compartments float among the assorted rubble.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#95

Erik, for his part, signals his gratitude to Gom's aid - without the other Salvorathan's keen eyesight, he might have missed the small coolant leak - a situation that would have been disastrous for the merchantman in a relatively short period of time, then - as the air repressurizes and the two set off along back toward the airlock where he entered, he sniffs the air and grins, detecting the telltale scent and faint motion of a life support system in action.

When the pilot leads him to where the Ssaratha is dealing with Danasheth, the Salvorathan gives the flier a thumbs-up. "Y'have a workin' reactor, but I'd advise against tryin' to push it any if y'can avoid it, for any reason." He points a thumb at Gom, as the other departs to attend his duties, now that his part in the dance is done. "I've faith he'll get y'there without hurtin' the engines, at least." He nods to his fellow freelancer, and gestures to her to precede him the way the creture points; he's going to be spending his trek down the passage watching for other signs of life-threatening danger to the softgenes filling out the crew - and finishing off what little of his ration bar he didn't use to patch up the vessel's leaks, noisily ripping it apart with his teeth as he glides down the passage.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#96

Kestral thumbed his communicator. "Someone else take a turn keeping a lookout? I caught some flak in the skirmish and I need to check my kite out for issues."

Not really waiting for a reply, he set his computer to relay its sensor feeds to his helmet display. He did a quick check of his suit for any issues and then hooked up the EVA tether. Ready, he depressurized the cockpit and opened it to cold space.

What he saw did not impress him. He was actually amazed the kite had held together. One of the beams had stopped only centimeters short of one of the main fuel tanks. His fighter was nearly scrap.

Not willing to trust the comms with that information, he instead climbed back into the fighter and made ready to rendezvous with one of the other larger ships.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#97

Danasheth could feel the wave of relief wash over her, and could not avoid riding on it, so strong was it. The wounded freighter could drag itself to safety, at least. She knew of the strong connection spacers had to their ships, seeing them as home and workplace in one.

Following the Ssaratha, she walked along towards the meeting with the captain - and making him a friend. Those are always useful in the depths of space. Especially when you're four feet tall and a fugitive.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#98

Old Ben was bruised and battered, but by the gods of space, this wouldn't be the end of her. Indeed, the fact that she was still holding air indicated this was not the worse she had seen, by far.

Upon returning inside his ship, Alice cornered the nearest Merchantman crewmember and gave the radio unit. Going the the Engineering store himself, Alice split the spare hull plating in two, bringing half to the Nearest tech of the merchantman, Doubtless that the much larger merchantman would have access to some tools to help patch Old ben further.

However, this was only a partial reason for his trip. In a nonchalant and offhand manner, Alice asks the simple question: "So, what are you carrying anyway?" While carefully studying the reaction of the tech, wary that such a well armed band of pirates would most likely be after something specific. Still keeping a disinterested tone and attitude, Alice's curiosity forces him to ask about the freighter's origin, and its destination.

After his conversation with the chief, Alice makes his way through the merchantman, asking for the captain, and taking in the smells of the ship.

A lot could be told from the smell of a ship.

The ship smelt of fresh work sweat overlying fear, iron and ozone. The sharp smell of camphor also rose through the air, a clear tale of the recent brush with pirates, overpowering the subtler fragrances. Each ship had its own smell, and no doubt, Old Ben would smell as alien to the crewmen as their ship smelt to alice.

Before reaching the captain Alice spoke straight to Maia: "Maia, can you patch comms from the rest of the troupe here? They'll probably want to listen in." Seeing Kestral's request on his commscreen, Alice replied straight to him: "Kestral, you can get your fighter in my hold if you want. Maia will open the doors for you."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#99

As the freelancers make their separate ways through the merchantman, all converging towards the fore of the ship, Alice's question is answered by the locatable technician, as he swaps and solders away in the primary comm facility, doing his best to bring the ship's communications back on line. "If you really want to donate it, bud, just leave it in the hallway out there. It'll have to wait." For a moment, the swarthy man prods around in the electronics again, flipping a switch to a shower of sparks and a string of curses. "Cargo? Colony supplies, I guess. Wouldn't be delivering much else to a rot-hole star like this one, now would we? Cap'n said something about medical supplies of one sort or another. Guess it must have some value to it. Course, you get far enough into the black, and those bastards will hit you just for your ox tank."

The medic, meanwhile, is rather busy. As Alice passes to pop his head in, the human sawbones strikes the patient on his table with one cocked fist, slamming the struggling, panicking Salvorathan patient in the solar plexus, producing the normal gasping reflex, after which the panicked man starts to calm down, having finally been forced to breathe in the sedative. "Next time I tell you to breathe, you breathe, boy!" Discretion being the better part of valor, Alice continues towards the front of the ship.

Similar scenes play throughout the ship, as double-trained shifters are pressed into place for secondary duties, completing them to greater or lesser success. At the front, however, is the captain, and Danasheth, the first to enter the room, has the split second to witness the great aura of exhaustion as he shoves up out of the chair at the head of the table, twisting almost lazily to bank off the room's orientational ceiling, and come to rest behind the chair, a brief word from his lips seeming to seal him to the 'ground' as if there were gravity.

As the others float into the room, mere moments later, escorts leave, and the captain manages a brief sigh, and a nod to the three of them. "Welcome, freelancers, to the Long Haul. I'm afraid I can't offer much in the way of hospitality at the moment, but it look like I do owe you a thanks - More than one, in fact. Maybe more than just a thanks, too."

Meanwhile, Kestral lands easily within the empty bays of the Old Ben, wincing as the kite creaks and groans with the soft impact at on the floor of the bay. There will be quite a deal of work to be done.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#100

Erik, drifting in almost lazily, corrects his motion with some careful touches to the door as he passes it, bringing him to a near-perfect stop half a meter or so behind Danasheth, and a full meter off the floor; his only motion is a slight clockwise rotation in regards to the captain's point of view, slowly tilting off the vertical. "I can't speak for the others, but any chance to crush some fool space vermin is a chance I'm glad to take." The Salvorathan's face twists into a grin as he speaks. "Clan Starvoid isn't fond of scum like them - and the wreckage can fetch a fair enough price, to be sure." He waggles his hairless brows, "Not that I'd be one to be turnin' down any offers you might make us, that is."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#101

"I simply hope that when you find yourself in a similar position to ours in the future, you'll be willing to come to a stranger's help. Your word to that effect would be all the thanks I require."

Alice looked at the many screens in the room thoughtfully, and turning back to the captain with a sad smile, added: "Of course, as Erik of the Starvoid Clan mentions, any proposal for mutually beneficial endeavours are welcome, but I doubt that you are in any shape for this right now. Perhaps after our respective ventures conclude?"

"In the meantime, Is there anything else you need?"

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#102

"I can imagine common profit in the future, captain - as soon as the Long Haul is capable of hauling again." Danasheth was surprised at how quickly her years in the diplomatic corps came back to her, and with them the wish to weave, make deals. Just in case.

"You seem to have a far higher cargo capacity than us - meaning that when we come across bulk goods, you'd be the one we'd entrust them to; we can also agree upon mutual support in the future - for example, sharing your flight plan for an operation would allow us to plan ours accordingly, in case we need support, and vice versa. But for now, it would be excellent if your crew aids us in patching up our own vessels."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#103

It is with a rueful chuckle that the captain of the Long Haul chuckles. "To pay it forwards.. yes, we have, and been paid in kind today, it seems. As for your proposal, tiny, well, we'll do what the company will let us, when you give us the call. " He shakes his head then, as he taps away on what's left of a touch screen display, miraculously still functioning. "We can spare a little plate for you folks, and maybe a hand or two. Brian! Do what you can for these nice freelancers. We owe them our skins."

--

With some boisterous camaderie, jury-rigged repairs on the several ships proceed apace. It is a full day drifting in the black later that the freelancers finally separate from the much larger vessel, giving it a final shove sunward bound. It was a worthy day, however, with a great deal of repair work finished, and a small reward burning its way out of the freelancer's pockets.

Here, deep in the velvet blackness of space, there is no sunrise, the distant arc of the sun barely more than a dime's width in through the polarized windows an ever-burning presence. But it is none the less a new day, and the spirits of that day's promise beckon even the mechanical heart forward.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#104

During the downtime, Erik gathers what unusable scraps he can to make a few cobbled-together replacements for the ammunition for the heavy weapon of the Karloff, and takes the time to transmit an encrypted message for relay to his cousins in another system; in it the Salvorathan related his experience in the system so far - the boring but roughly profitable gas-mining to be had from the hot giants, the presence of space pirates, and the name and identification code of the merchantman the freelancers had come to the rescue of - and his exact role in both the defense and repair of said vessel. Even small favors added up, over the lifespan of a Salvorathan Clan, and now the company the merchantman belonged to owed the Starvoids a small one.

--

As the merchantman departs sunward, Erik surveys local space from the bridge of the Karloff and nods. "Right, then. I'm ready over here if you lot are. Let's see if we get shot at any more on the way to where we're headin', shall we?" The gleaming grin that splits the dark purple skin of the space dwarf is brilliant, and full of a weird breed of glee at the idea of luring more void vermin out to crush into so much scrap. Still, he's a Salvorathan with a Clan to help rebuild, and so he knows that getting his share of the space hulk they're after is more important than any pirate baiting he might fantasize about.

With that, he directs the Karloff back on course, following the directions given by his fellows into the void, toward the riches that await.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#105

As the repairs finalised on the motley assembly of vessels, and both the Long Haul and Old Ben regained some much needed hull integrity, Alice considered how to avoid falling into a situation where the Old Ben would make a predictable and attractive target. Clearly the ancient, ponderous thrusters had not been sufficient to allow him to manoeuvre his vessel against the pirates. So, gathering a large amount of almost valueless scrap metal, he set about building two large, identical sets of gimbals. Much welding and bolting later, the two large and sturdy structures dwarfed Kestral's newly repaired Militiaman in Old Ben's cargo bay. As soon as the required tonnage of appropriately shaped metal could be found, and the calibration performed, Old Ben would dance like a ballerina.

--

Connecting one last time to the merchantman, Alice spoke with both sadness and joy in his voice: "Godspeed, Long Haul. May fortune smile on you."

Having just received Erik's message, he primed the engines, programmed his vector and opened a channel to the other freelancers. "Action is the foundational key to all success, so, friends, let us now act"

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#106

Kestral checked over his fighter, scarred metal covered over by welded plates. He would have to be more cautious next time - this one had been too close.

He looked up in wonder at the rig that Alice was clambering over. He really did not want his fighter sitting the hanger when the system was tested - even though he did not doubt the quality of he workmanship.

Kestral climbed into the fighter and brought up the computer record of the brief firefight. He would _not_ make the same mistakes again...

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#107

The Chanson safely docked and newly patched up, Danasheth examined the holes covered with cruder plating. Soon, the whole fighter would look like that - if she survived.
A strange melancholy set in - this was the first time she was actually fighting for herself, not others; it was different, more gritty, less exciting. No-one would thank her for surviving.
As she headed down the trail of thought, "what is the point?" crossed her mind; shaking her head, she headed over to the big folks to distract herself, perchance find that point.

"Mister Alice - are you in need of assistance? I feel strangely idle after all this excitement."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#108

As the freelancers continued their silicon-set course in the void with only each other and the remote stars for company, Alice welcomed Danasheth's distinctive voice, and an opportunity to rise from his own tumultuous considerations.

"Ah, Indeed, Idleness does tax with heavy hands. It forces combat on the battlefield of the soul. I would not wish for you to tarry in this devil's workshop any longer, Danasheth. I fear, however, that I have little to keep your hands occupied. Why not begin by elucidating the matter of this fabled derelict you are taking us to? Perhaps the exercise will go some way to quieten your mind."

Hey Echo, Where is the Mirage docked?

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#109

Finishing his review, Kestral requested permissions to disembark his fighter - he would relocate to one of the external mounting points for his fighter.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#110

"A curious cruiser, catatonic in the cold, carved by coherent coruscance to its core" she mused, adding: "Of unknown make, of hidden origin, incomprehencible in markings and messages it emits - yet concievably within the reach of impromptu repair, and convenient salvage."

On a crate she sat, gazing at the wall panel simulating a panoramic window. "An uncommon prize, unless alien ships are wont to drift through Sabrontir on a regular basis. No? Still, I shall consider it a welcome gift of space to me, an opportunity to lay the foundation, a healthy start for a new life. Bounty is aplenty, it seems, ours for the taking."

Simply nonchalantly speaking, with no tension, was a relief after such a long time of solitude and subterfuge on her flight. She visibly relaxed, and unfolded her antennae, taking in all that was this curious Alice, eager to know.

(OOC: docked on an external mount, methinks)

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#111

"A Laser-marked alien cruiser, you say. My My. That is indeed most uncommon. My grizzled memory does let me down today. I cannot recall any engagements in this sector. I shall be most interested in seeing this silent sphinx of space for myself."

Opening the Cargo bay doors for Kestral, Alice gazed at the illusory port, into the unforgiving blackness of space. Exploring a powered down alien cruiser in nothing but our spacesuit is unlikely to be conducive to good health Alice's artificial arm and leg attested to many hours spend crushed in a dark and confined space, reducing his personal affinity for such somewhat.

"A cruiser... Hmmm... I wonder... Perhaps, after all, there are thing that we can do to keep our hands occupied while our metal clad carapaces cast through space. What do you say to building some remotes, so that they may carry out the dangerous and unrewarding task of scrutinising the mundane sections of this derelict, while we concentrate on exploration more beneficial?"

A smile crossed his lips before adding: "Of course, Déformation professionnelle oblige, This is how I usually spend my time when restlessness itches my fingers. So my perception of the utility of spending said time so may be skewed appreciably."

valadaar: Of course!

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#112

"Mindless metal minions, a moron might muse" she smiled, and booted up her wristcomp. "My mindset is miles away, mind you; minute marching metal men magnify my merriness."

Thinking back a few cycles, she had to share. "I modified many myself, improvised some, military or more menial; the military prefers to have its most expendable assets mechanized, and I could not agree more. Later, I learned to be even more grateful to them, for they can go to places I cannot, and do not object to be sacrificed and left behind, some even carry the seed of their doom within, and when all is done, but a whisp of smoke hints at their previous presence."

Toying with a drone's sensor array and browsing her datafiles for useful designs, she decided to speak on. Classified or not, an anecdote it was. "These little wonders once made the envoy of Kashemen fire all his staff, believing they were selling him out; rather, we had developed these low signature energy cells..."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#113

Erik, for his part, listens in to whatever of the conversation is transmitted by radio, preferring to keep close to his patchwork slab of flying armor. He does, however, take the time to keep in touch with his fellow freelancers.

To Danasteth, once he catches up on the conversation, he sends a question: "Possible to repair, y'say? That could be an interestin' proposition. I don't suppose y've got any hard data on the ship's design and model, or even some images to study?"

To Alice, as he inspect the salvage, he sends a suggestion: "I'm sure you're not a serious fightin' man, Alice, but y'might want to consider mountin' these weapons on Ben if we can get them workin'. At least point defense is better than tryin' to dance in circles when dealin' with fighters."

To Kestral, having done his part to help repair the heavily damaged fighter, he offers this: "Y'already seem good enough with your weaponry - and I'm sure y'don't want more armor slowin' y'down - so since y're a big slab of inorganic, hard t'squish materials, we could try improvin' the speed of this little bird. Reinforce the structure to handle higher G-forces and more oomph to the thrust - y'won't be able to go as far, but y'd be a nasty surprise to anyone expectin' a normal model."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#114

"I actually do have data from the sensor sweeps I performed, Monsieur Eric. My curiosity is hard to satisfy, certainly you understand. Thus, I and the Chanson can offer, on a silver platter, its measurements, approximate weight, estimated trajectory and available prime quality advertisement space on the bird in question. The turkey, in this case."

She patched her wristcomp into the projector and the comm uplink. "My curiosity is sated, but please, satisfy yours."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#115

The ship itself, as shown by the statistics, is large. Easily matching the mass of a Terran Destroyer, or a large hauler, the vessel is a bit under a half a kilometer long, and nearly a quarter thick along the spine of its pill-like shape. With its mass topping a half million metric tons, the experienced eye may estimate it to be a container or cargo vessel of some sort - complete with cargo, despite the ragged, fifty meter hole burned through it along its shortest dimension, nearly dead center in the ship. Twenty two decks can be counted there, opened to the void.

Without further adjustment, it will become a long-period "comet", swinging in ever shrinking ellipses around Sabrontir, until it disintegrates at last in the corona of that brilliant star.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#116

"Step one," the Salvorathan muses over a tightbeam to his fellow freelancers, "is naturally to scout the wreckage and see what surprises might be waitin' for us. Step two, if we don't find or deal with anything on board, is patchin' up those holes and see about gettin' the thing a functional drive. I don't know about your species, but that's the kind of thing a Salvorathan Clan could build a fleet around - provided we can scan out the technology of it."

He pauses, and then admits with a touch of ruefulness, "It's certainly nothin' I've ever laid eyes on before."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#117

"Fear not; for all I fathom, we are first. For sure, foreigners and scavengers will frantically follow, yet we could have our price secured until then. If not, then some competitors can be reasoned with, some might have to be shot. The first approach is far more to my liking, for the second is rather final."

She proceeded to assemble a drone while she talked, her four hands flitting across the spare components, and mounting them with the certainty brought by years of experience.
There; six magnetic legs, a camera and sensor array and a multi-interface for interacting with a wide variety of machinery should do the trick, especially considering that she'd be doing all the actual work once the drone stuck the connector into a device, remotely. A manipulator arm completed the setup. The programming would take some time, but she already had plenty of existing code, and once she did it, it would be easy to fit it to other improvised drones.

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#118

Kestral listened with interest to Eric's proposal. Once the structure had been brought back to spec, additional modifications taking his physiology - design really, into account, would indeed be welcome.

But it seemed there would be no time for that now. Instead he went back out to his fighter and made ready to take a look around. Not even his robotic nature could suppress the feelings of avarice that a wreck that size - he could do much good with his share of such a rich take.

Sealing the hatch and closing his visor, Kestral released the docking linkages and pulled away into space.

"I do think Drones are a good idea, but we're racing others to this trove aren't we. Can we get a thermal reading from anyone? This has been here long enough to even out - so any distinct readings on shadow-side might indicate somethings still running.."

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#119

Time passes. Preparations are made. Seconds blur into minutes, hours, and even weeks, before acceleration makes its presence known once more, the fearsome grip of momentum screaming a primal echo of gravity throughout the foil-thin hulls that keep that studded mantle of black from crushing the life from your bodies. Yet, that same acceleration brings the small fleet to dance with its chosen partner, a tiny speck among the drifting debris that was the birth of the now-far away sun.

Through the void, the oblate ship sails, nearly free of rotation save for a slight turn about its central axis, as dark and cold as the Black beyond. Through the telescopes, it is only resolvable when you begin to close, its blackened, battered surface holding back just enough of the light to make detecting it optically an interesting proposition, and it is first seen not for itself, but for eclipsing a far star behind it.

Still, it is readily apparent that it is a huge artifact, and badly battered and beaten. Still, its only major war-wound is that single, enormous hole. Its engines, though, appear small for the craft, though it is hard to tell what it would have massed with its apparently crippling injury.

(OOC: If you want details, ask them. You may approach as you wish - the ship has no active defenses, nor does it have standardized docking equipment. Places where force-docking is theoretically possible do exist. )

Re: [Starkin] The Edge of Civilization - Chapter 01

#120

Kestral thumbed his comm - "Lets send a probe in through the hole.."