View Full Version : Star*Drive: Verge's Edge
11-16-2007, 10:40 PM
Location: The Verge, 0.5 Lightyears from Tendril
Date: March 16, 2501, 22:51
The briefing room is small, just big enough to seat at least 40 people. Just behind the speaker's podium on the small raised stage, the holoprojector displays a map and heading information of the Adamanthea II... Seconds later, it shifts to show schematics of a ship, very much unlike the battlecruiser, Adamanthea II... It appears to be a longhaul freighter! Several points of yellow flash at critical areas, most likely important ship systems, only a couple others flash in red. It finally shifts to a different display, zooming out from the schematic, showing the current area of space that they are currently in, then zooms out again showing another point on the starmap, the ship's current destination... It almost looks Hammer's Star.
The 16 other marines in the room rise and snap to attention as the ship's general approaches from off the side, heading towards the podium. In his wake, two other higher-ranking officers stand off to the side, watching and murmuring amongst each other. In just a few short strides, the general stops behind the podium, turning to regard the soldiers in the room, eyeing each one quickly, shifting his gaze randomly from one pair of eyes to another.
"If everyone's ready, we'll begin the briefing..."
11-17-2007, 11:21 AM
Zair's head barely cleared the top of the table, when he stood respectfully at attention for the General. Being a Fraal among Humans meant he lived in a world sized a bit to big for him. Still Zair had lived his entire life that way and he was used to it. Sometimes unexperienced humans might not think he was more then an old-looking child, but he knew how to deal with that too.
As the information was displayed on the Holoprojector Zair tried to understand what the various color and shapes meant, while waiting for the briefing to get started
11-17-2007, 11:36 AM
Casca came to attention with the rest of the marines, sitting back down after the general spoke. He paid strict attention to the mission briefing, seemingly blocking out all else. He was cautious to keep his chainsaw from touching anything or anyone. Even though it was off you could never be too careful.
Quin snaps to attention with the others, his eyes on the general. He had signed up looking for adventure, and it seemed like this was his chance. He glances about at the other Marines and Navy personal, wondering how much of the rumors that are the life blood of military were true, then returns his attention to the briefing.
11-19-2007, 09:34 AM
The man stands and salutes with textbook precision, but something is a bit off. Something in his eyes says that while he may be going through the motions, he really stands at his own leisure. He does not look upon the officers before him with the deference due to superiors. If they were to look at him, he would stare right back. Not with any malice, but with contented self-assuredness. No amount of time with the Concord can strain the Austrin from his mind.
OOC: My hard drive decide to die on Thursday, right as I was going out of town. I can only really promise one post until I either repair or replace it.
11-21-2007, 02:08 AM
The general turns and glances to the other two officers standing off to the side, then to the marines once again. He nods solemnly.
"At ease men."
He calmly waits until everyone's settled in their seats, pulling off his cap and setting it on the podium.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is the situation. Shortly after leaving the Tendril system, we received a fuzzy distress beacon, enough to mark the coordinates of a StarMech longhauler. We don't exactly know what the status of the ship is, yet. At least, not internally."
The holo behind him shifts views, zooming right onto the StarMech ship once again, showing the flashing yellow points.
"As near as we can tell, there are some systems that have been disabled, namely it's long-range communications array and it's engines. Several of it's defensive systems have also gone offline."
Now, the red points light up, joining with the yellow.
"It's also possible that there may have been several hull breaches. They appear to be central to the cargo corridor, here-" He points to one red spot at the foward tip of the diagram, then motions to the other in the dorsal area, nearly right in the middle between the command deck and the bow of the ship, "- and here. There don't appear to be any signs of pirates in the system currently, but you all know better; It's highly possible that they are using cloaking or stealth technology on their ships."
The holo zooms back out to full, marking the courses of both the dropship to the Longhauler, and the battlecruiser towards Hammer's Star.
"Your mission will be to take a dropship and investigate the condition of the ship, secure it's crew and passengers, and neutralize the threat, if there is one. In the meantime, the Adamanthea will continue on it's way to Hammer's Star. We will rendezvous with you all within the week, as per the orders of Captain Prinnith.
"Are there any questions, men?"
((OOC: No worries, Ale. We'll try not to get too far ahead without you!)
Quin salutes, then speaks "Sir, any information on what they where hauling, and how many personal they had?"
11-21-2007, 10:35 AM
Zair had no questions, briefings never had all the details. Thats why they were brief. Still Zair's role seemed clear enough. The longhauler had been damaged and Zair was to make sure it worked enough to get them to Hammer's Star within a week. While he would support the other objectives as much as he could, but he would have secondary role at best when it came to fighting or dealing with the crew
11-21-2007, 01:56 PM
"Sir, Spaceman 2nd Class Wood, I would request the specifications of the dropship we will be using."
11-21-2007, 08:47 PM
The general nods to Quin, answering his question first.
"Unfortunately, we don't know what they have on board, yet. We don't know how many are on board, either. For a ship that size, we're probably looking at three full rotations of crew, plus passengers. We're still awaiting a reply from the authorities on Nova Station regarding their crew roster and cargo compliment."
He looks to Robert, regarding him as he replies to his query next.
"A standard 20-man, drive-capable jumper. It won't get you as far as the Adamanthea's stardrive, so we'll be waiting for a little while. If we're lucky, we'll both make starrise in the system at the same time. I'll assume you're asking because you'd like to know if you're going to be piloting it?"
11-21-2007, 10:45 PM
Casca filled away the mission parameters within his memory banks, and then raised his (non-chainsaw) arm. When he spoke it was in an obviously artificial voice. ôSir, if we are attacked by hostile forces, should we attempt to capture?"
11-22-2007, 07:18 AM
The general regards the android as he would any actual living being, but before he can speak, the sergeant, who appears to be more in charge of the mission pipes up as he steps forward.
"Personally, I'd prefer them however you can get 'em, private! Dead or alive, it don't matter!"
The general pauses and stares at the sergeant.
"With all due respect, we'd much prefer them to be alive. That way, their trial can deem them worthy of life or death. However, if they shoot first, you have, by all means, the right to shoot back in defense. However, I'd prefer you to use discretion in dealing with such criminals."
Quin sits back down, having no further questions.
11-24-2007, 05:42 PM
"Well, men, if that's all, the-- Yes, you in the back?"
A Marine in the back stands up, giving a quick salute and a big $hit-eating grin... The man beside him shakes his head, burying it in his hands, while the woman on the other side stares incredulously at him.
"I've got a question, sir. How much do we gotta pay to get the fcuk offa this mission roster?"
Before the general can even reply, the sergeant is up again, nearly ready to tear across the room to strangle the troop, his face red as he hollars.
"PRIVATE! You stow that $hit right now before I stow it fo--"
And the general interrupts him, patting his shoulder.
"Please, I'll answer this one." He glances to the marine, giving a tight smile. "Private, you'll have to fork over half a year's pay to get off this mission roster. Because that's how much it's going to cost us to replace the escape pod we put you in. And that's bare. Without the normal emergency amenities that the escape pods usually have. Just you and that cold, dark shell, drifting through space until you either die within a couple weeks, or someone actually has the gumption to rescue your sorry, pasty white ass. Is that understood, private?"
"Sir, crystal clear, sir!"
And the marine salutes and seats himself.
"If that's all, then you have one hour to gather your gear and meet up at the dropship in landing bay five. Dismissed!"
Quin salutes, and exits, shaking his head at the Marines outburst. This was the excitement he had signed up for. He polices his bunk and prepares his gear, making it to the docking bay five minutes early and standing at ease.
11-26-2007, 12:20 AM
Robert nods to the general, "Yes sir, I am qualified to pilot that class of vessel" he adds with a grin, "I'm not too bad at it either".
After the briefing is over, he salutes with the rest and moves out to collect his gear. An hour later he arrives at the docking bay fully loaded. He is no longer in regulation uniform, instead he is clad in a black, form-fitting jumpsuit. On his head is a pair of thick goggles. A large black duffel bag bulges and rattles with various unidentified pieces of equipment.
11-28-2007, 01:42 AM
Wood joins several other marines on deck, each one clad in combat armor and carrying a standard-issue plasma rifle as well as a small hardcase. Slowly, the rest of the company joins them, all armored and armed the same. Some carry different bits of gear secured to their armors... Engineers, field medics... A couple of them even carry larger guns in place of rifles and wear heavier armor; Heavy-Armsmen.
One of the riflemen steps up beside Wood and nudges him, chewing on a piece of gum, grinning.
"Hey Wood... You lookin' forward to playin' hero again? How many you think there are? Ten? Twenty?"
11-28-2007, 02:02 AM
Robert laughs and drops his bag to the ground. "Actually I think the whole operation is a setup. See, they way I figure it, there's a whole Thuldan legion sitting in that freighter just waitin' to jump on us. Looks like we are gonna need bigger guns."
11-28-2007, 11:09 AM
Casca walked into the docking bay, articulated joints moving silently. He spotted the large group of marines on deck and makes his way to them. "I see that everyone is ready. I would hate to see anyone die because of unprepared ness."
11-29-2007, 12:35 PM
The Fraal arrived at the appointed time. As an Engineer he didn't have quite the same combat gear as the fighters. He had to lose some weapons to carry toolkits, and Fraal's weren't known for their great strength, and that limited him to just the essentials to do the job.
12-01-2007, 01:10 AM
Overhearing Robert, one of the heavy armsmen grins, hefting his larger gun and aiming the muzzle towards the upper bulkheads of the landing bay. For the size of what seems like a miniturized artillery cannon, it looks like it could easily take out a ground squad with one good shot...
"Hey Wood! This gun big enough for ya?"
Another of the marines pipes up from nearby, eliciting a small chorus of laughter from most of the gathered troops: "You only wish, Boychuck."
A third marine behind Casca slaps the synthetic with a heavy, armored hand. laughing.
"We're like Boy Scouts, Cas; We're -always- prepared! And, if we're not? Well, at least we'll make it to our final destinies!"
Shortly, all the appointed marines for the mission are in the landing bay, all geared up and ready to go, making short conversation. Soon after, a couple techs stroll out of the dropship, pushing an equipment cart down the ramp. Following them, the sergeant steps down the loading ramp, clad in his command armor, his rifle secured to his chest, leaving his hands free. He moves to stand before them...
"Marines, Attention!" he barks, echoing through the bay. Most of the two-squad team quickly snap to, a couple straggling along before they ease themselves straight and clap a boot to the deck plating.
Quin snaps to, standing rigidly at attention, and saluting.
12-02-2007, 01:13 AM
Casca snapped to attention, focusing his visual sensors on the sergeant.
12-02-2007, 01:57 AM
Heels locked, back straight, head forward, sphicter tightened. Gotta love the Navy...
12-03-2007, 01:31 PM
He comes to the proper at attention position, but it small size make it easy for him to be missed.
12-04-2007, 11:06 PM
The sergeant makes a quick round among the troops, doing a quick visual inspection of the troops and their equipment. Passing Robert and one other, dressed similarly, he motions towards the dropship with a jerk of his head.
"You two, get that thing hot and ready to jump ship. Wood, take guns, Svenson on stick and nav. Coordinates are already locked." He turns to the rest of the troops. "They rest of you, inside! Stow your gear and your guns and strap down! MOVE IT! MOVE IT!"
At the command, the clatter and stomps of armor plating and heavy boots against the deck fills the landing bay, and soon the majority of the soldiers are inside. Along the sides of the troop deck rests a section of seats, each one composed of a bucket configuration with a heavy strap-based harness, similar to racing harnesses. Between each seat is a guncaddy to vertically secure medium- and large-sized firearms. Underneath each seat is a drawer large enough to fit most of everyone's personal kits... Engineers and meditechs have several larger footlockers to stow their gear in, just offside from the ramp.
In the center, facing towards the ramp and beside a small set of steps leading up to the pilot/gunner cabin, rests the command chair, outfitted similarly, but with a small set of screens mounted on a swiveling panel.
In the floor, several panels can be seen, allowing access to several larger storage areas below the main deck.
12-05-2007, 12:39 AM
Robert gestures at the ship's guns and replies to the heavy armsman, "That's the kind of guns that I like to see, could be bigger though...".
Robert stows his bag in a locker, and heads up to the gunner's seat. He straps in and draws a fine wire from his headset. This wire is plugged into the set into the main consule, which calls up the tactical readout on his HUD.
"Let's see what we have to work with today..."
Dammit Janet! Link (http://invisiblecastle.com/find.py?id=1407782)
12-05-2007, 11:02 AM
Carrying his gear through the group and onto the ship, the Fraal stops at on of the larger footlockers. Drop off his various tool kits, his load becomes much lighter. Moving toward his set Zair quick adjust all the straps down to their smallest setting and then straps himself in
Quin quickly moves to a free seat, stowing his gear and then strapping in.
12-05-2007, 02:26 PM
Having no gear to store, Casca just strapped himself into a seat and patiently awaited liftoff. He turned his head and spoke to the marine next to him. "If I had emotions, I would be exited. This is what I was made for, after all."
12-06-2007, 03:40 AM
The ship schematic comes up as the general said it would: a standard 20-seater dropship, equipped with a small Mass Reactor to power the majority of the small vessel, a small stardrive to match the power consumption, capable of making at least a 10-15 lightyear jump within a single starfall, and the standard weaponry systems which include a pair of fire-linked plasma cannons and a single missile launcher.
The Marine beside Casca grins and nods to the android. "C'mon Cas! You might be an android, but you can still mimick us! I mean, you've probably observed us enough, right? You know how the majority of us are!"
On the other side of the android: "Yeah Cas. C'mon! Give us a whoop for joy! Or even just the Marine's Cry! Hooo-RAH!"
Up in the pilot's cabin, the main pilot passes the commlink over his head, up to Wood, as he flicks a few switches and keys in the heading from the landing bay. "I'll let you take care of the communication between the jumper and the flight deck. See if we're cleared, yet."
12-06-2007, 10:27 AM
For the moment Robert closes out his HUD, wouldn't want to put holes in the docking bay afterall. However, they might need to if command forgets about them...
He then flips on the main communications channel, "Command, this is the dropship, are we good to go yet?"
12-06-2007, 10:43 AM
The fraal looks over at the Marine's encouraging Cas to let loose. "Maybe he has chosen to mimic the more reserved members of the Corp?" His tone was more questioning then challenging.
12-06-2007, 07:34 PM
"Huh? Yell? I'll do it. HOOO-RAAA!!!" He yelled, but it lacked the oomph that the other marine had. "Is that acceptible?"
Quin glances at the Fraal. "It appears not."
12-07-2007, 10:24 AM
The Fraal turns to Quin, his alien face making him appear older then he really was, "Indeed" he agrees
12-07-2007, 10:34 PM
Most of the marines chuckle and grin at the android trying to be more human. The one who gave the suggestion to Casca pats his shoulder, snaking his arm past the guncaddy.
"It was worth a try, Cas. Keep trying, though. You'll get it eventually!"
He then looks to the Fraal and shrugs a bit. "Maybe. We're only trying to help him blend in a little better..." He pauses, glancing at Cas' Chainsaw arm, adding, "Well..... Personality-wise, at least..."
As the loading hatch closes, seals, and locks into place, the Sergeant takes his place in the command chair. He fires up the consoles after securing his rifle and himself. The screens flicker to life, and with a nod, he keys his comm to dock control: "Dropship Alpha to control, all troops are accounted for and secured. This boat is sealed and locked, and we are go for launch on your command."
Meanwhile, the reply from control filters into Wood's ear, crystal clear, just as the ship lurches into motion, righting itself as the bay doors slide open: "Alpha, the docking bay is cleared of personnel. You are now cleared for take-off. I repeat, your take-off status is green. Good luck and we'll see you in Hammers Star."
Quin double checks his harness, and grins. "Here we go!"
12-11-2007, 09:25 AM
Double checking his harness he replies to the solider, "People are, what they are, and there is no shame in that." He pauses a gets a far away look in his eyes for a bit. "Of course it is also a good thing to try to maximize your own potential."
12-15-2007, 04:59 AM
Svenson plugs in another commset into his console after just barely hearing the green from Control. He adjusts the receiver piece and flicks a few switches, rechecking his lights and monitors one more time.
"Control, this is Pilot Svenson for Alpha Drop. All lights read green. We are outta here. We'll see you in a few days, Adamanthea!"
And then he switches comms to the Troop deck of the dropship as he eases the small ship towards the open bay doors, grinning as he speaks, his voice switcing to the monotone of movie plane pilots. We all now the voice.
"Ladies and gentlemen, this is your pilot speaking. Thank you for flying Galactic Concord Dropship Flight 654. As we do not have any flight attendants on board, we'll refer you to our esteemed Sergeant Pike--"
In the command chair, the sarge swivels around as far as he can, about to raise his voice....
"--who will serve her place in guiding you through the motions of our emergency instructions."
Several of the marines grin and snicker quietly. The Sarge casts his glare about before shaking his head.
"We ask that you please remain in your seats for the duration of the flight. We have no restrooms on board, and if you really need to go, too bad. You shoulda gone before you came aboard.
"In the case of a minor depressurization, please remain calm. Oh-Two masks will drop from the compartment above your seat. You're better off if you have a space suit, though. In the case of a major blow-out, you're kinda SOL without one and you may as well just kiss your asses good-bye; You'll have just enough time to do it before you suffer the effects of hard vaccuum in space!
"No, JosÚ. There will be no in-flight movie nor first-class meal. You shoulda packed your rations."
JosÚ raises an armored arm towards the cabin, flipping the bird. "Hey! Piss off, Sven!"
"That being said, we hope you enjoy your flight as we descend into the black depths of Hell and thank you again for flying with the Galactic Concord Marine Corps!"
The ship suddenly launches forward as Svenson guns the throttle, lurching everyone in their seats towards the back of the ship momentarily, eliciting the usual chorus of curses, yelps, and joyous cries from the rest of the marines!
((OOC: Sorry I haven't been around lately, kids! Life kinda took me away for a little bit. :P))
12-16-2007, 06:12 PM
((S'salright. I was gone for a while anyway. A cousins wedding and all.))
Casca waited patiently, monitoring its systems and adjusting power flow from its miniature power plant to its weapons.
02-01-2008, 02:09 AM
Robert looks over his shoulder to see if the sarge is paying attention to the front of the shuttle. Seeing that the man is currently engaged in mediating a dispute over the relative merits of a large starting blind, he powers up the weapons system. No one will miss a few asteroids anyway...
02-05-2008, 09:49 PM
The sarge is actually quiet, currently watching one of his monitors, solemnly...
But, what he watches, everyone else can see as well, if they're paying attention, as one of the monitors is swiveled towards the rest of the troops in the troop bay of the dropship.
In front of Robert, Svenson focuses on his screens as well, instead of watching outside the canopy, in front of them.
They show the Adamanthea II, drifting away from them for a moment before it's engine ports suddenly flare up. The space right in front of the ship suddenly ripples, but where it would normally be a multicolored ripple that swallows up the ship, it flashes bright red before fading as the ship enters it's starfall.
Several of the troops who hadn't been paying attention to the monitors initially suddenly snap their heads to watch the screen at the brief flash of red.
JosÚ suddenly pipes up, pointing at the screen. "Uh.... Hey guys? What was -that-?"
02-06-2008, 09:35 AM
Watching the monitor the fraal's face takes on a studious look as he tries to figure out what just happened.
Knowledge (Technology) roll [roll0]
02-08-2008, 09:32 AM
"It was a red starfall. Most likely caused by the burn off of stellar particulates that had attached themselves to the ship before it went. Their is no current scientific support to the general superstition based of the color of the starfall."
02-08-2008, 11:29 PM
(OOC: Others at this point may make an Intelligence check to see if they can recall the superstition. At one point or another everyone's heard it.)
02-09-2008, 01:15 AM
((Int check - [roll0]))
02-10-2008, 02:11 PM
Robert sees the whole starfall through the gunnery console. While not a superstitious man, he is sure that he has heard something regarding this phenomenon. He turns to the sarge and begins to speak. He gets so far as opening his mouth and drawing in a breath, but stops there. With a momentary look of puzzlement, he says nothing.
Could've sworn I heard something about this.
Int: [roll0] I'll edit in his comment after I get the info.
OOC: Glad this game is back up and running.
02-11-2008, 11:03 PM
Casca cheerfully piped up. "It is as Zair said. Such a happening is not too unusual, nor is it a misfortune."
02-18-2008, 09:59 PM
One of the others looks to Casca and chuckles a bit, shaking his head.
"Man, Casca, I wish I had your optimisim. You might not believe or have any use for superstitions, but.... As humans, we do. We've had 'em for as long as we've been around."
Another asks, turning his helmeted head to the Fraal.
"Hey Zair... Your folk have any superstitions?"
And, from the front, Svenson:
"For those that didn't know, a red starfall is seen as bad news by a lot of people. Hopefully, it won't be anything huge."
02-19-2008, 11:02 AM
"The superstition implies a certain amount of primitiveness , or lack of rationality. Neither are traits common to Fraal."
For a few second it seemed like the Zair was going to leave it with his race being to good for it, then he continues, "Still we do have traditions that come from beyond memory and history. Things we do or think in certain situations, that we do simply because that is what we have always done. At some point it was most likely rational and reasonable, but maybe now it is no longer so."
03-16-2008, 07:14 PM
The marine shrugs.
"Maybe it ain't the same now, but you still had 'm by the sounds of it, huh?"
And, from the front again:
"Longhauler's running flashers in sight. Closing course, 600 miles. Hey Wood, see if you can get anything on the comms and request docking codes and procedures."
And from the Sarge:
"Alright ladies, you heard the man! Three teams as soon as we dock. I want one team to head for ops, one to stay back with the jumper, and the rest to check out the cargo berths! Are we clear, Marines?!"
03-16-2008, 11:36 PM
"Sir, yes Sir!" Casca intoned with the rest of the marines, and spent a few moments deciding on the probability of which team he would go with. He soon gave up, as there were too many unknown variables to process.
03-17-2008, 10:51 AM
The Fraal nods in acknowledgment of the order. He would go with the ops team unless ordered otherwise. Ops would be where an engineer might be useful, less so checking cargo or holding the ship.
03-18-2008, 12:53 PM
Robert acknowledges the command by flipping on the external comm. On standard frequencies he broadcasts in the direction of the freighter.
"Attention Longhauler, this is Concorde Dropship Alpha, request permission to dock. Do you copy?"
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