Dr. Charles Roth & Subject Forty's Story

The freighter Nadia was mostly quiet throughout the trip, though the hull creaked just a bit when people walked the halls. It was their first day in the trip from Thebes in the Jupiter Almathea (inner group) to Themisto a large irregular moon. The usual 3 day trip was taking longer than it should have, the Nadia had left port after Thebe's orbit had passed Themisto's and now the latter's retrograde orbit was taking the satellite away from the ship.

Vesta

The girl checked her charts, only two and a half more days according to the adjusted course, and rechecked her inventory, making sure she had enough fuel. "Four passengers and three of them are freaks." She sighed to herself. "At least he promised this last run would be enough for me to have worked off the debt." The man she worked for was ruthless and greedy, but he had given her a chance and she was happy that he'd be letting her off soon. He'd even offered her real work after the run, but she wasn't sure if she'd accept. She went on over the intercom.

"Alright folks, course has been readjusted and we'll be running for two and a half days to get to Themisto. We'll get some minor turbulence as we pass by the outer ring in about 18 hours but other than that sailing should be smooth. Thanks again for flying with the Nadia, if you need anything just buzz me over the intercoms."

The engine room was filled with a mix of noises. The hum of the engines was the loudest, the noise of the life support following it, 1980's rock underlying them and if you listened close enough you could hear mumbling and the sound of tinkering. The hum of the engine came from the very back of the room while the music and tinkering came from a corner near the front. While the noise echoed throughout the room, a soft white glow emanated from the machine near the front of the room. A minefield of tools, scrap metal and junk parts was strewn across the floor illuminated by the lights throughout the room, the only clean spaces being a working space around the life support and engine.

When entering the room in the right-hand corner there was a workbench that was almost as messy as the floor around it. Setting at it was a man in his late twenties tinkering with an orb. This man did not look to out of the ordinary, he had brown hair, approximately 5' 9" in height. However, his right arm looked metallic and was held out in a way as if he was using a wrench that looked as if it was coming out of the top of his hand instead of being held, and a blue glow emanated from his eye on the same side.

Desmond Zini

With the sound of the intercom staring he hit a button on the orb to quiet the music. As he sat the orb down on the bench little legs came out of the orb that it rested on. He walked over and listened to the announcement that was being made, nice two more days in space, that means longer time until I have to be on a planet. He thought to himself hitting the button, "I'm good just let me know if anybody needs anything fixed and I will do my best to fix it." With that a clang could be heard and Desmond looked over to the workbench to see his orb on the floor scuttling away, "So, I may have accidentally automated the legs on my orb shouldn't be hard for me to catch but if anybody comes in here please be careful where they step." With that he let go of the button and ran after his orb.

Dr. Charles

"Alright folks, course has been readjusted and we'll be running for two and a half days to get to Themisto. We'll get some minor turbulence as we pass by the outer ring in about 18 hours but other than that sailing should be smooth. Thanks again for flying with the Nadia, if you need anything just buzz me over the intercoms."

The voice rang out over the speakers, just barely catching his attention. He was laying back in his poly-metal mobile chair, sat directly in front of a desk. The top of the desk was rather spartan, possessing little else but an open suitcase. In it were rows of individually labeled vials all securely fastened so as to protect the glass containers from excesses of momentum. There was no need for physical documentation ever since humanity had become so thoroughly interconnected. Any and all information was stored in hardware as code, delivered wirelessly across channels of varying encryption depending on the sensitivity of the information stored within.

Of course there was still a need for the physical components. Whether he liked it or not he needed to escort this transport of subject 40 and the various tools and sub components as requested by the Ascplepius Research and Development branch out on Themisto. It was supposed to be a big day for him. After all, he was going to go represent the very project he worked tirelessly on in these last five years. He couldn't help but feel rather bitter though despite the progress his team's made.


|All content is currently secure. Estimated arrival time currently stands at fifty four hours| His Email was sent off, just a standard procedure put in place by the company to keep track of him every eight hours so they know whats going on with the shipment and in the event that Charles is incapacitated or otherwise kept from relaying his message they'll know come the eight hour interval that something is wrong.

Can't wait to get there. While I'm on this bloody ship my Cloud access is at least a day behind. It makes holding a discussion with my colleagues nearly impossible with just how slow it is. He dwelled on just how poor his network connection was as he closed various windows he had open with a mere thought. It was quite ironic that signals moving at the theoretically fastest speed known were still moving too slow for today's modern needs.

Of course anything he would of wanted to be doing would have to wait. He shut off the net overlay as well as his notes, the windows no longer occupying his field of vision as all that remained were the basic ui functions which included an automatic face to profile matching system, a minimap and a clock. By the clock's reading it was close to lunchtime which meant he needed to go feed the subject.


Approaching the door his system passively sent a command to the door system which opened them as he approached, one of the many conveniences technology has brought. He went on his way until he came into the cargo bay. There were several boxes both small and large forming a sort of maze leading to the various entrances and exits. It was clear that whoever packed this ship didn't have a strict storage methodology in place. With his hands in his white lab coat pockets he strolled on over to where the subject's transport cell was kept. What appeared to be a large steel grey container with few other features besides a door, a small slot to the side of the door and a large yellow arrow written on the side next to the words THIS SIDE UP stood before him.

As was the routine he took one of the many washed circular metal trays he had set next to a smaller box more the size of a footlocker and opened the box up before plucking a dull white bag out from inside. The bag had no logos or any information written on it at all save for a small arrow at the rim of the bag indicating just where to tear it open. He already knew what the contents were, tearing the plain white plastic container open and squeezing the off-white paste onto the tray. It was a company made nutrient paste which contained a balanced diet for all the subject's needs. What it didn't include however was a taste. The paste had no flavour whatsoever and maintained the consistency of wallpaper paste. Any person could easily survive eating nothing but this stuff but almost no one would want to survive if it meant eating nothing but this stuff. Luckily for the company the subjects had neither the choice nor the knowledge to make a choice as to what they could eat.

Without saying anything he simply opened up the panel and held the tray in. A pair of long slender yet strong looking hands gingerly took the tray from him, pulling the platter full of white goop from his hands in a gentle manner. Just like that he closed the tray panel and shut the radial lock over it. He didn't want the subject sticking a hand out and getting caught on it.

The melody of the concertina was still echoing through the cargo hold as the good doctor entered, a jig that had the instrumentalist swaying gently from side to side as she played. It stopped shortly after though, the ex-Marine's curiosity piqued by the arrival of another passenger. She took a moment to bend down and check the compact screen of the clunky device running her armor's diagnostics check. Surely the system could finish the check-up without her input. Soon she was on her feet stretching.

She was an imposing woman thanks to her military career, strong and carrying herself with confidence. Her cybernetics made her heavier, from the left arm and leg down to the spinal tap and her mechanical lungs. Sneaking around wasn't her strongest skill but she knew how to be quiet. This wasn't like her time behind enemy lines where going undetected meant life or death. She shook her head to banish resurfacing memories.

She'd taken a look around the cargo hold earlier to make sure her armor was ready for transport and casually glanced at some of the other containers. Nothing terribly hazardous that she was aware of though there could have been a lot of illegal goods. What did she know about it? An old war dog chasing another shot at combat since she couldn't live without it.

She turned the corner and watched as a pair of long slender yet strong looking hands gingerly took the tray from the man she'd been meaning to watch up to. A platter of white goop. That wasn't something you saw every day.

She found a comfortable bit of cargo to lean against, arms crossed over her chest. "Is the pilot of our shuttle aware there's another living being in her cargo hold?" She gave a career soldier's approximation of a smile, the small mole at the corner of her mouth twitching. She was in no place to talk about things on a strictly legal basis but she liked to think she was still able to convincingly address things from a moral standpoint. "If it's a clone I understand since they still don't have actual rights, but if that's a person in there..."

Dr. Charles

"Is the pilot of our shuttle aware there's another living being in her cargo hold? If it's a clone I understand since they still don't have actual rights, but if that's a person in there..."

Just as he was walking away there stood Dragoslava, the mercenary aboard the Nadia. Immediately his profiling system matched her face with what little data he had on her. It was scarce given his lack of a live connection to the net so it mostly drew off data gathered up until this point.

He just stopped, seemingly unsurprised by her presence. While she might of been smiling he was doing no such thing. Others prying into his work was irritating enough but this lowlife thug had the audacity to make assumptions about work that she clearly knows nothing about. Like most grunts she seemed to just assume the answer was something simple. Unlike most grunts she spoke out on the matter. No wonder she's not operating in any legal capacity


"She is neither." He stated in a matter-of-fact tone. His outward demeanor was cold for the most part, only a slight element of ire peeking through his air of professionalism. He always kept a firm and proper posture, never slacking as far as anyone's been able to observe. He's practically never behaved informally around the others, only ever letting himself relax when he was certain he is alone. It wasn't so much that he couldn't trust the rest of the crew even though he didn't, it was that he wanted to be taken just as seriously as he took himself.

"I am fairly certain the pilot is aware of the nature of this cargo. She was present when it was loaded aboard her ship. As the contract states the rest of the payment is contingent on the cargo arriving alive." He answered her first question as though he were unemotionally refuting an accusation. It could of very well been an accusation but it did not matter. He carried on past her, continuing on as normal. Just as it was his subject's lunch time it was now his own time to eat. He proceeded towards the ship's mess hall.

Desmond Zini

Desmond found that he had placed a couple wires in the wrong place. It was a quick fix for him, after that he didn't know what to do. He sat there and span in his chair quickly getting dizzy before deciding to try randomly put something together. Quickly getting bored Desmond jumped up and went back over to the intercoms, "Does anybody have anything broken, or just something that they don't mind me taking apart?" He sat there bobbing to his music waiting for a response, waiting an waiting and waiting.

Vesta
The girl sighed and rubbed her face. It appeared that she'd have to shut it down herself or somehow dismantle it. Then Desmond asked for something to do and she wished it was that simple. Asking Zini to shut it down would get rid of a couple of headaches but if he asked questions or dug too deep she'd be the one to take the blame. Instead she scanned the ship's outputs to see if anything was down. "Looks like the CO2 scrubbers are performing at 0.03% less efficiency if you wanna take a look at that. Could use some maintenance on the solar batteries as well, though they won't do us much good this far out from the Sun." She opened up a comm link to the android. "What are your current directives then?" She waited a small while for a response before she started to notice blips on her scanner. "Oh-"

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The ships had only been drifting for a few minutes when they got within firing range of the Nadia. Once within range they opened up their engines again and closed in, the fighters circling the ship and the corvette approaching to dock while the frigate settled the sights of its main cannons on the Nadia. The alarms on the Nadia blared to life and then were suddenly cut off by the intercoms. "Attention Nadia passengers and crew. Lay down arms and prepare to be boarded."

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"-Shit." Vesta flipped a few switches on the console and opened a hatch to her interceptor. She grabbed a headset and switched it to an open channel to everyone on board. "Alright guys looks like we've got pirates." She pressed another blue cylinder to her neck with a small grunt then climbed down the chute to the Springbok. Life or death situations always made her think more clearly, act more logically. She'd have pondered why this was if she wasn't hyped up on stims or shoving cables into her cybernetic legs to connect her to the interceptor. She grunted, letting the nerves that connected her to her legs connect her to the smaller ship. 'Anyone with navigation or combat experience chime in if you wanna live."

[OOC: Why does this always post twice?!]

Desmond Zini

"Looks like the CO2 scrubbers are performing at 0.03% less efficiency if you wanna take a look at that. Could use some maintenance on the solar batteries as well, though they won't do us much good this far out from the Sun." Came through the intercom and just as Desmond was about to respond he heard the sirens go off followed by "Attention Nadia passengers and crew. Lay down arms and prepare to be boarded." He did not like the sound of that, he looked around the room to see if he could construct any make shift weapons but there was nothing that he felt would really help.

Then the captain came back on "Anyone with navigation or combat experience chime in if you wanna live." Desmond opened up the intercom again his music able to be heard in the back ground, "Well I'm not an expert but my father did train me how to defend myself with a pistol."

August Model, 13x Series, "Veris"

"What are your current directives then?" Came over the comm link to Veris. Not a moment later, "No directives beyond self-preservation sub-systems detected." was sent across the link. Then the alarms went off.

"Entering emergency mode." Veris stated, turning off countless "non-emergency" drivers. Just as suddenly as they started blaring, the sirens stopped. Replacing them was a simple sentence, "Attention Nadia passengers and crew. Lay down arms and prepare to be boarded."

Veris pulled the pistol out of the plate of its leg that suddenly opened. The self defense add-on began initializing to its full state as what was previously a learning environment became a tactical position and weakness. And within another few moments, a channel open to the entire ship opened with "Anyone with navigation or combat experience chime in if you wanna live." Veris announced "This unit has self-defense systems installed and a shell capable of resisting civilian firearms." over the open channel.

Vesta

The girl sorted through her thoughts, coming up with some plan, any plan, that would get them through this. "Alright we've got maybe 30 seconds before they're on us, Zini you need to repel boarders. Use any means necessary to keep them from getting anywhere in the ship, they're gonna try to immobilize us, don't let it happen. Kasun, I don't know what you'll do out there, but there's an airlock just outside the cargo bay's bowside entrance. Doc, if you can't fight, hide yourself in the medbay and lock it down. Unit Veris, can you navigate a ship or are you only able to perform self defense?"

With that last bit she undocked the Springbok from the Nadia and slowly floated into position. She'd need to surprise them if the fight was going to go her way at all. She opened a com to the main frigate but kept in communications with the Nadia, hoping for updates. "The interceptor, designated Springbok, is filled with goods, take it and let the Nadia pass."

Desmond Zini

"This unit has self-defense systems installed and a shell capable of resisting civilian firearms." echoed out through the open channels. "Wait 'This Unit?' Does that mean that there's a robot on board? No body die I have to see the thing as soon as the battle is over." he spoke back over the open channels. Next came the captain speaking "Alright we've got maybe 30 seconds before they're on us, Zini you need to repel boarders. Use any means necessary to keep them from getting anywhere in the ship, they're gonna try to immobilize us, don't let it happen." Desmond nodded and looked around the engine room. "Yes Captain!" Desmond responded grabbing his orb and cramming it in his pocket the music still playing.

Desmond quickly started grabbing any scraps that he could get and fixing together any weapons or defenses that he could. Once most of the scrap was used up he ran out of the room placing them where ever he felt would be good for defense. Once he got to what he considered to be the entrance they would most likely enter through he fitted the floor with special traps including some scrap metal caltrops.

Dr. Roth

"Doc, if you can't fight, hide yourself in the medbay and lock it down."

A pirate attack. His paranoia had not been in vain as it seemed something he wholly expected but was not prepared for occurred. At the very least the mercenary was off doing her job. Her competency was suspect but suspicions would have to wait as more pressing matters concerned him. Specifically the fact that he had been requested to hole up in the med bay while the safety of the subject was left to question. That simply wouldn't do, at least as long as he couldn't ascertain that her interests and his own coincided.

"The invaders cannot be allowed to go into the cargo. I have to insure that the contents come to no harm." He responded over the comm to the pilot.

He was vexed. If there was even so much as a single hull breach in the cargo area he could just kiss the odds of his team's project ever getting so much as onto the board's meeting table, let alone the cloud's feed of topic discussions. Were the integrity of the ship to fail in this location the air would leak out of the region, asphyxiating the subject. If that wasn't bad enough should the artificial gravity fail the subject could very well just float off into space, a miserable fate for anything.


Just shortly after his response over the comm out from a closet a robot suddenly emerged. Ah, this must be the unit the pilot was quarreling with over the comm channel earlier. He looked over the machine, running some approximations of it's capabilities in his head. Perhaps I can make use of this encounter.

Walking over to the autonomous machine, his eyes cold and calculating as he looked the unit down, he quickly approached it. It held a firearm in it's hand, a concern of his given the circumstances. In an instant Charles had pulled up an analysis of the ship he had stored away in memory back when he came aboard. Looking over the information it seemed like small ammunition's wouldn't present a significant risk of creating a hull breach if fired in this particular chamber. However what the pirates might be packing may be more substantial than a handgun. If they got through to this part of the ship a fire fight would be the last thing he needed.

"Unit, if intruders encroach upon the cargo hold gun fire would jeopardize the integrity of both the ship and the contents of these containers. If you're not joining the others in confronting the aggressors upon their boarding then dispatching them by forcing them into a melee will be necessary. Do you have the necessary software to perform hand-to-hand combat?"

His voice was calm and steady despite the impending threat looming ever closer as he addressed the robot.

August Model, 13x Series, "Veris"

Veris had barely exited the room it awoke in before it was approached. A quick data pulse in the organic's direction and its enhancements responded to Veris.

Gender: Male
Name: Charles Roth
Title: Doctor
Purpose: Lead Researcher of [Data Restricted]
Current Access Level: None

Not a moment after the pulse, the doctor gave a mix of orders and inquiry, which was quickly processed. "Warning unauthorized user: You do not have permissions to access requested data." Veris stated as it looked at the doctor, continuing with "Are there any further inquiries?"

Kasun whistled a popular tune as the NG-1337's systems started to register green. Once the suit's artificial muscles were activated she was on the move. Weapons were green though she dared not test the flamethrower inside the cargo bay. She was pleased once the visual HUD was fully up and running. A smack to the helmet fixed a malfunctioning sensor and soon information was overlaying her view. The augmented reality system offered her a perfect view of her surroundings enhanced with information her armor's systems were taking in and processing for her.

She turned her attention to the weapons crates she'd brought along, quickly focusing on the larger container. Her HUD was keen to remind her that the crate contained an NG-43 MagRail HMG. Even for someone is powered armor it was a heavy thing that was going to need an external power source. She pried the case open and extracted the weapon, replacement rails and ammo case attaching to her armor. HMG in one hand and cable in the other she made for the airlock.

Before stepping out into the vacuum of space she activated the magnets in her boots, a soft hum telling her they were active. Now she could walk along the ship's hull with minimal concern. An explosion could still throw her loose sure, but there was no sense in thinking about it. As she stepped out the silence always struck her. Her own breathing inside the helmet to louder, the stamping of her feet along the outside of the ship becoming something she felt more than heard. She needed to find an access panel quickly and get to work.

Once she had the NG-43 plugged in she quickly installed the first set of rails and attached the case. The ammunition itself was caseless and propellant-free and even the belt feeding the ammo into the gun would become little more than dust. She took on a bracing position and using a simple commend to link the weapon to her systems. "Beginning counter-offensive." With a minor discharge of electrical energy around the magnetic rails the retired Marine began to bombard the attaching pirate fighters with accelerated ammo designed to tear them to shreds.

The small cabin of the corvette was overfull, two pilots plus the strike team. Each and every one of the strike team operatives was well armed with submachine rifles armed with bean bags, shock rounds, and tranq darts. They were prepared for an offensive, with 8 troops in medium recon armor and two fully power suited marines. One of the marines spoke up. "The pilot of this ship is a small time smuggler but she's got ties to a major player. We need to secure the asset again. We cannot have this tech falling in the wrong hands. We put down any resistance fast. Capture over kills here though, we need the crew's info on this guy so we can finally nail him for his crimes. We breach in three."

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A few of the fighters strayed closer to the Springbok and hailed her, "Pilot, drop weapons and bring the Springbok in to dock with the CS-Karāchi." The Springbok's weapons began to holster as the ship slowly made its way towards the frigate. The closest fighters surrounded the interceptor in key points above, below and to the sides of the ship. They didn't see the pilot grin or notice her hands move to her legs to release some combat stims.

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"Breach!" The men rushed through the opened airlock and the battle cries of the first few were immediately replaced by screams of pain as impossibly sharp caltrops punched into their booted feet. "What kind of barbarians would use these?!" One of the men cried in pain. A marine stepped forward, the caltrops breaking into tiny pieces under the steel of his massive armor. "Barbarians." He lowered an assault cannon, primed for stun and walked calmly forward.

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Vesta

She had come too close to the frigate for comfort as she switched her cybernetic legs to increase blood flow. It would take some maneuvering to get past the blockade that the fighters had erected behind her on her approach. There was a lucky break though, when the merc onboard the Nadia opened fire with a Mag-rail from outside the ship, tearing apart a fighter in the process. She felt a twinge of apprehension, knowing that the merc wasn't firing on pirates like she believed but military forces instead. She didn't expect to be forgiven but she did like that her chances of escaping with the cargo intact were higher when she had a willing crew. She took the chance the merc had provided and twisted her ship around in a tight arc that caused her to undergo nearly 50g's of force and utterly surprising the fighters that had scrambled to evade fire from the mag-rail. In an instant, her turret was out and she had engaged in a dogfight with four fighters of her own. She hoped the crew inside was faring this well.

Vesta

The pilot sped her way around the space surrounding the Nadia, making sure to never put herself in a position where the fighters guns might miss her and hit her freighter. She used her ability to outmaneuver her foes to her advantage, making it hard for them to hit her and giving them a chance to hit each other when they missed their main target. Her turret stuck to one target at a time, regardless of where she was facing or her relation to the rest of the battle. Once one fighter was down, she'd switch to another. She'd tried to keep their fire off of her but she noticed a couple of fighters had focused their fire on the Merc's location.


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Inside, the power-armored marine had put up his helmet as a stray bullet pinged off his shoulder. "Contact!" He sprayed stun darts into the ductwork but the smoke had thrown his aim off. They listened as the sound of movement in the ductwork headed away. The other soldiers were getting back on their feet as the two marines took to the front of the line. Their eyes were opened for traps and any others that they saw were sprung harmlessly on the marines. They followed slowly behind the loudmouthed brat in the ductwork, unable to keep up with him as he left them with a surprise and an insult every time they'd caught up with him. They hadn't lost any troops, but their tempers and nerves were running high.