RP Between Stolen Stars (Open!)

[Ghostly]

Well, this was going exactly how he'd expected it would.

Chaos escalated, it always did. Haigen couldn't say he remembered much, but he knew a lot about many things. One thing he knew for certain was that wherever he went, whatever he got caught up in, it always ended in a fight - always.

At least they were on their way now. That was for the best he thought, but it seemed Dandy wasn't done just yet. First came the plasma discharge at Anima, then once he'd exhausted his anger at the cat he went for Magnus - putting a bullet through his knee. Haigen pushed past the android to rend aid, ripping his belt from its loops and bringing it around Magnus' leg. "Fuck, just couldn't help himself," he said through gritted teeth as he tightened the makeshift tourniquet.

"I'd appreciate some help in here! Does anyone else know how to fly this thing?" Haigen cursed under his breath and did his best to apply pressure to the wounded knee. His biggest priority was saving this guy's leg, next order of business - throwing that android out the airlock.

On second thought, why wait? He had a fully capable artificial intelligence that was integrated with the ship who could handle that problem for him. “I think now’s the best opportunity to show Dandy the door. Anima, would you be able to assist with that?”

 

[Fang]

9:00:00



Plasma hurtled through the air toward the kitten, five shots fired one after the other as the faulty android monologued and melted down completely. The first barreled into the outer layer of nanites that made up the feline form, waves of heat radiating down the apparent fur, white hot and scorching the floor of the ship beneath its paws red as the second shot landed behind the first.



With each blast a small amount of shrapnel flew from the kitten, angled intently downward as the energy from the plasma fire was dissipated and some small amount of nanites overloaded. Seemingly satisfied that five shots would suffice the android turned away, and spoke again as Anima sizzled. The click of a sixth shot being prepared rang faintly behind the pop of its release. Blood flew from Magnus’ leg, and Haigen flew to the pilot’s aid as Dandy rounded a corner to triumphantly sleep in his pod.



”I'd appreciate some help in here! Does anyone else know how to fly this thing?"



Anima hesitated, the heat still pouring off of it too great to approach the injured Terran.



“I think now’s the best opportunity to show Dandy the door. Anima, would you be able to assist with that?”



”Deleting User Permissions: Dandy.”

Integration Status: Paused.



The kitten stretched, its front paws splayed wide as it stood and looked toward Haigen.



”With pleasure.”



The cat’s eyes, nearly white while addressing Haigen, flooded a deep, shining crimson at the Terran’s request. In an instant the feline shape fell away into metallic grey dust, sparks of red flashing between the material as it fell into a fine pile. Dandy’s sleeping pod closed over the android, and the lights flickered.



Reallocating nonessential mass.



The ship had halted on the edge of the planet’s atmosphere, the port a small dot in the distance. A deep groan echoed through the ship as, suddenly, Dandy’s sleeping pod lurched upward, the boiling floor beneath it angling the pod head first toward the port in the distance. The base of the pod began to boil as the floor had, material rearranged into small cylinders around its base.


Optimal Mass Consumption: 1.05%



The cylinders sank into the base of the pod, disappearing as a thin layer of amorphous, metal covered the interior. There was already an extra sleeping pod, but Dandy was no longer a part of the crew. He wouldn’t be allowed to take anything with him.



The lights on the pod flashed red and with a hiss the very top opened as the android was ejected from within, a thick layer of nanites covering his body as he hurtled toward the port where he had boarded the Fenoshan vessel. It was likely that, even given the breakneck velocity he had achieved, Dandy would emerge from the collision unscathed. The layer of nanites that covered him weren’t there for his protection, though.



The consequences of raining a faulty war droid on an unsuspecting populace was already staggering enough, and detrimental to anyone involved. Take into account the number of weapons said android still had on him and the results might be dire. There was an easy enough solution, though, as Anima broke each weapon it touched into dust. During the process it integrated the designs into its system: grenades, guns, the electric stick that had fed Pulse so generously.



Finally, as Dandy seemed just as though he would leave a crater in the side of the dock the layer of nanites billowed out and above his head, wrenching him considerably and dumping him none-too-gently exactly where the ship had made port before falling into dust that disappeared on the breeze.

 

[Thimble]

He made it inside just in time for the gunfight. He stayed out of it, holding pattern around the corner in case one of these nutjobs suddenly developed the balls to follow through on their posturing threats. It sounded like things were heating up, and then -

A deafening crack and the ringing pain in his ears that followed. That familiar smell of seared flesh, like nothing else in the whole universe. Took him right back to Basic Qualification on Ryder's World.

He rounded the corner, sprinting past where Haigen was cradling the other Terran, dropped on the floor with a beltloop tourniquet tied around one knee. At least, it looked like his knee. It was hard to tell. Through the ringing in his ears, he could hear Haigen shouting for another pilot.

He jumped into action, head low and eyes darting around. The situation was still tense. "Copy that, I'm on the Conn." He sidestepped Haigen, careful to avoid slipping on the blood-slick deck. "We need medical aid in here!"



Kresh slid into the cockpit. Port Authority was beaming a series of increasingly dire warnings about speeding violations and ticketed exits. Evidently, the Fenoshans had a knack for building ships with some serious speed to them. He tried to ignore the slick, wet spot that squelched beneath his legs when he hopped into the pilot's seat.

The other Terran (Magnus, maybe?) had managed to lock in a course before getting shot, so there wasn't much to do. Kresh felt an annoying tug of something that was disturbingly close to respect. It took some serious discipline to stay at your duty station even when some psycho-bot rampaged around the cabin. You usually didn't see that sort of dedication outside of Republic personnel.

He felt a tiny, almost imperceptible tremor. It felt like something small had beem ejected from the ship. But the system lights were all green, and the engines were still hot. Couldn't have been anything that important.



Kresh darted out of the cockpit, sliding to a stop where Haigen was cradling Magnus' limp body. His shoes left gooey streaks in a pool of blood that seemed to be alarmingly cool.

"I'm on station. Keep pressure on that, here" He hurriedly ripped a part of his shirt away, stuffing it into the gaping hole of viscera that had recently been a man's knee socket. Small, stringy giblets of meat oozed between his fingers, staining his new hands crimson red. Kresh leaned back, half to shout, and half to get a glimpse of anything other than human gore.

"When I say we need medical, that means one of you fuckers grab a trauma kit! Right now! You're telling me our state of the art boat doesn't have a medbay?"

 

[Deacon]

"Wake up, pilot. You're needed."

The first thing Magnus would see upon awakening was the looming figure of the Krake standing over him - lacking any facial features, it appeared as expressionless as the wardroid that had sent him to medical. The deep tones of its vocoded voice betrayed little emotion. Among the blue of the jellyfish's internals, a small orange burst flared, then flickered. Not that anyone knew, but it meant something along the lines of credit where it's due. Humans, like all life forms, were not Krake - they did not warrant equal treatment. They were sapience mimics, akin to the robots they built, but developed from flesh and bone, not metal circuit. In that, they were akin to their androids. Nevertheless, they could manage to impress, the same way that a hardy pack animal could.

Magnus had proven himself a capable pilot under fire, and kept his leg for the trouble. Correctly keying in their coordinates had been fundamental to avoiding trouble so far. And his resilience was impressive.

Humans, of all aliens the Krake had encountered, had given them the most issue. It was an archetypal story among lesser species - a free, internally heterogenous band of democracy-loving 'sapients' banding together to out-think and overwhelm a vastly superior, outwardly homogenous imperial legion by the skin of their teeth. The truth was less romantic. Humans bred like rabbits, and they were creative. They were talented at reformatting tools into new things. The Krake possessed vast knowledge preserved over generations - as a species, they were exacting warriors, and brilliant scientists. But to them, a gun was a gun. A sword was a sword. Never once in their genetic memory would they have thought - for example - to ram something with one of their ships. Terrans were more likely to think of things like that.

The Terrans had vanquished the Nniss, which had been cause for alarm in some Krake clades. Then the Republic bloodied the Krake Empire's proverbial nose. Internal complacency had led to a historic string of Krake defeats, leading to significant deprivation of territory, and an even more embarrassing loss of face. The result had been something of an upheaval within the political sphere of the Empire. That is not to say that there were factions, or even ideologies; all Krake were more or less on the same page when it came to any given issue at any given time. But what embarrassed one, embarrassed all. Domestic politics were nonexistent for the collection of perfectly-communicating individuals. A new foreign policy, however, was desperately needed.

Internal dissent among Terrans had always been viewed as a weakness. Here, an argument between a Terran pilot and a Terran android had resulted in one's crippling and one's disposal. But there was more nuance to it than that. Deacon had observed, in his time away from the Empire - as an External Relations Agent - that Terrans could shift gears as a society at a rapid pace. They could go from diplomatic and welcoming to autocratic and warlike in the span of a generation. That was how they'd been underestimated - their comparatively rapid changeability, and their talent for improvisation. In contrast, the Krake had been the same for...forever.

Until now. Until External Relations.

During the chaos in the cabin, the Krake Agent had - metaphorically - scoffed and shrugged its shoulders. At the direction of the Empire, it had taken on a contract/bargain/oath/deal to join the crew, be diplomatic, and protect it from external threats. Internal conflict within the crew had settled itself without his intervention. His preference - that the Anima system be eliminated - had not been shared by the others. It was useful in the short term, but in the long term, it would begin to develop its own gravitational pull. A distraction from the mission at best; a direct threat to all of their lives at worst. He had his own tried and true countermeasures against a nanite swarm, of course (who didn't, these days?) but like any rogue crewmate, it could still pose a threat.

He would not make the same mistake as the Empire he was part of. That was the assessment he would return to his clade with.

The Krake addressed the alien further:

"I am Deacon, your doctor. I am here to help. 24 hours have passed since your injury. You are fit to return to duty, and to be briefed on the contents of our mission. I think you will find it very interesting."

 

[Azra]

Pulse tried to apply reason to matters of emotion she concluded. The android cared not for mission parameters or what might be asked of the job he saw a threat and had been insulted. A combination enough that lead to drawing a firearm, the lights that made up Pulse had started to change violet. A violet that began to bleed into the color of red as anger formed in her. A rage at so many things.

The dominant one was the insult she found in the actions of gunfire taken. They agreed to vote, he ignored it for violence. He had done so before given her time, and chosen violence. It was a farce though the illusion of options and choice before picking destruction. It wasn't Dandy though that fueled the anger, not exactly. It was the pattern. She'd seen it before on her home world. Appeal to give chance to act and contribute, then take away that chance. Offer diplomacy and collaboration, just to turn on others for self interest. A pattern that resulted in blood. She saw a knee burst, it fed her memories of her kind. Splattered. Shot. Eviscerated. Ground up. Cut up. Incinerated. Slaughtered. Butchered. She saw Dandy and she saw Republic.

It also sparked an anger at her own inability. The large use of electrical energies made her less ready for plasma. Her senses were moving at the speed of people more so then what she could be. Lowered perception to function with others hindered speed she maybe could have had. She failed to be ready. Her failure meant blood. She loathed herself for not being sharper. There was likely nothing she could have done to stop the slug of the other weapon choice, but she had never tried to be. She was a being of power, like her death though she was powerless. Failure was blood, blood was genocide.

She needed to stop failing and show the Republic what it meant to bleed.

"I can manage controls while tend to him. Sorry can't help with medical attention."

No innuendo was managed. Her usual sparky demeanor was lost for the moment. Her luminous figure flickering a violent red. While she couldn't help with anything physical though she did know the ship. She flowed through it in the moment her body sat in the cockpit but her self was everywhere. So she reached out and soon the lights around a med kit were flashing. A small device making a chime to help tell where it was. Though maybe the sound was pointless. The gunshot had echoed after all. That sensation of audio pain had escaped her though, she heard but her senses were signals and waves no muscles or organs to tend with such noises.

a day goes by.



"For the record, I was asked to feel up the controls. Seats warm though when ready captain." The hologram remarked hearing that the pilot was being woken up. She questioned if captain was the tight thing to say, but she figured soothing voice acknowledging rank might help one feel better some. She'd seen nurses and doctors do similar when she was reporting on the horrors of her homeworld's fall.

Within the pilot seat the hologram sat. Near the right arm rest She'd asked Anima to set up a small plasma torch for her. Pulse didn't need to pilot much given the use of autopilot. She helped over see things though, and when wasn't needed she had been practicing. She was trying to better her ability at absorbing plasma. Sharpen her ability to go from a more electrical state to a plasmic one. Further ability would take time the full spectrum of herself still a mystery. The other day though she had seen blood, and she was getting sick of seeing it spill from the wrong people. "Stay focused Pulse. Hate wont see a mission through. People are violent you need to be fire."

Words muttered to herself. Though by nature of what she was it might have been a whisper those who tried to be attentive enough to hear such things. She wasn't a soldier, she wasn't a machine there was a person in there more victim then veteran. One that was aching to become a force of nature as compensation for her failures.

 

[Ghostly]

Crisis had been adverted. Threats had been removed and now the name of the game was wait. Magnus was under the careful care of the Krake, and more than a few of the other members of the crew were more than capable of keeping the ship on a stable course for the slipgate they were ordered to travel through.

Taking this opportunity, Haigen took his chance to grab some sleep in the starside cabin. They were quite luxurious, the entire habitat was designed to be adjusted to the conditions required to sustain almost any lifeform, and make their stay quite comfortable as well. The bed must've been the most comfortable one he'd ever laid in, he only hoped his sleep was as relaxing.

- - -

It was freezing here. They'd taken his field jacket - they wanted him cold and tired, and hungry. Supply lines had been sabotaged for a month. Maybe if they'd had a decent meal they could've stood a chance. How many were left? The harder he tried to remember the details the softer things became. Lucid was a vague concept here.

Hands came in the dark, gloved and cold. Then came the batons and boots when he fought back, pummeling his head until darkness leaked in through the edges of his vision and everything slipped away.

Pain came next, a sharp shock to the neck and when his eyes shot open all he could see was blinding white. All he could do now was scream between gritted teeth and fight against unyielding bindings. A voice said - something, he couldn't tell remember what was said, was it towards him?

The pain again, worse now. Fighting it was pointless, and soon it was all he knew - all he could remember.

- - -

A day passed, Magnus was awake, and the ship kept flying.

Despite his comfortable surroundings, Haigen felt more exhausted than he had before. It was nothing he couldn't get over with a bit of help. Haigen made his way back to the main hold, found a mug, put on his kettle, and took a selection of tea from the stock they'd been provided with.

The ship was a lot quieter now that Dandy was gone, almost eerily so. The Fenoshan were shipbound beings, their entire being was a hulking starship. They couldn't understand the small details that made an atmosphere feel homely to organics. Acoustics, sight lines, even hearing the light hum of the engine through compartments would've made the ship feel more interconnected.

Haigen entered the cockpit soon after, his cup of tea steaming in hand. He looked out at the vastness for a moment - the call of the void, before he looked to the pilot's chair and noticed Pulse there, much smaller than she'd appeared before. He could've sworn he'd heard he talking before he'd entered, but no one else was here? Was this normal behavior for AI? Wait, what exactly was she?

"Good morning, I think." Haigen set his mug into one of the cupholders adjacent of the conn. "You're Pulse, right? I'm Haigen, I didn't get the chance for introductions earlier with all the - whatever that was." Whatever it had been, it was over now. Hopefully, they could focus on what would come next with no distractions.

Between them, the scanner came to life with a sound - a signal."It's a distress beacon," Haigen keyed the scanner, honing in on the source and a registration code. It was blank, just a signal and tagged as SOS, almost innocuous. He'd seen it before, it was someone in trouble where they weren't supposed to be.

"They're running a ghost ship, so they obviously don't want to get seen, but they're still calling for help." He looked over at Pulse, looking for some kind of response. "What do you think? Should we round up the crew?"