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After The Curtain Falls

After The Curtain Falls

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The crew of a transport vessel is stuck in the outer colonies of two great empires when the iron curtain of cold war falls. Stranded without support, it falls on them to keep their cargo safe and their ship operational.

1,327 readers have visited After The Curtain Falls since Imperial Waltz created it.

Introduction

The year is 4322. Two thousand years after the long-fallen memories of the Consolidate and the Cohesion- two thousand years after the War of Division that tore humanity apart at the seams and cast them out into the stars to turmoil and destruction. The dominoes laid during 'Schism' toppled, one after the other, for centuries, until at last two solid forces rose up out of the tumult. These empires grew for nearly a millennium, reaching heights humanity had never dreamed of and bringing stability to all those under their reign. From Jupiter's moon Ganymede the first power came, called "Jovia," who sought to bring peace to mankind's plight after so many thousands of years of war. From Earth the second great power rose up: Ecumene, who wished to bond humanity together and strengthen the ties of a race long scattered by solar winds. These forces, despite their proximity, had been founded upon differing principles, and constantly found themselves at odds as their hands reached out to ensnare the riches of the heavens. Scuffles at the edges of human space created strife amongst the Outer Rim, a place pushed further and further away from the Core of man. Now, many fear that these two great powers might someday soon set upon one another in thunderous warfare.

Much has changes throughout the years. The average height of a human, for one, has grown to six-foot-three for females and six-foot-five for males. Biological augmentation has brought about the ability to slow, reverse and even cease the aging process. And, in a few very select cases, some have undergone brutal procedures to become what most know as the Immortals: the artificially spawned next-evolution of humanity. They are few in number and reclusive, but it is known that they are immensely powerful. Another breakthrough, a miracle of science, is known as "Adam," which has been called "the key to eternity" by many. Implants are common, and nearly every human alive has at least the most basic of these: a personal HUD that allows one to message others, check the date and time, keep notes, surf databases for information, and even link with computer terminals. Holo-terminal technology - holographic displays that seem physical and can be interacted with - are also every-day fixtures in current life, with many even having personal holo-computers by way of implants. Nanites exist in the blood of every human, aiding to the strengthening of skin, bone and the heightening of senses, strength and reflexes. This micro-machines are also involved in the elimination of disease, scrubbing the dangerous effects of alcohol and cigarettes, and aid in healing wounds. Alien life is also known to exist in some abundance, but there is rarely any interaction with these civilizations as humanity has proven rather xenophobic in recent years.

During this age life is easy for those who live in the Core, comfortable in the Interim, and sometimes difficult, but still very livable, in the Outer Rim despite the heavy industrialization of the outermost worlds of the human empires. Piracy is but a memory in Sol, dwindling to nothing within the Interim, and still thriving in the Outer Rim. But as humans expand deeper into the darkness, there is also discovery. The Taber Archeological Foundation, or "TAF," was created for expeditions to dead alien worlds to search for artifacts from other races who have either died or moved on. Because of the prevalence of actual sites many have joined their ranks to crew cargo ships or man facilities responsible for the care and upkeep of these artifacts while they are being studied. The true challenge lies in cargo transport. Ships owned by TAF are armed for defense, and crewed by those who can handle a fight and harsh circumstances. As well as a lucrative career, crewing a ship ensures state-of-the art software for neural lacings and implants as well as the chance to travel across the realm of human civilization in the cosmos.

But not all is as it seems out in the twinkling black. Forces - political, and far from it - are at work at the edges of humanity's greatest extent. Great hands reach deeper into the stars to scoop them up like diamonds. Soon the rattling of sabers shall turn to the rumbling roar of change. This is the forefront of a new territory for all of mankind.


Trivia


Jovia: Ruled from Ganymede, and encompassing the worlds of Sol beyond the asteroid belt, the Jovian state spans three thousand forty-three worlds. A republic, ruled by an elected Congress of officials, Jovia is dedicated to the philosophy of cultural uniqueness and acceptance, welcoming people of all belief systems and ways into their fold and encouraging a peaceful lifestyle. People in Jovia are allowed a great many freedoms, and the government remains small as to allow independence from political meddling and interference. Jovia favors sleek, fast and compact ships capable of darting in and out of dangerous situations, and their cities are known for their graceful buildings and sweeping architecture. The Jovian military arms its personnel with seemingly skin-tight armor designed to boost every aspect of the wearer's senses and physical abilities, though they rely on extremely powerful shields for protection. All-in-all, citizens of Jovia are open to newcomers in their society and express freedom from overbearing government, and relief from persecution in any form as their highest holdings.

Ecumene of Earth: Ecumene, as it is known, commands an empire of two thousand one-hundred twenty-seven worlds. Though there is a democratic government in place, with elected members, Ecumene is truly controlled by a force known as Bloc: an alliance of mega-corporations enthroned on Earth and Mars. Bloc has ruled Ecumene for nearly one thousand years. By encouraging and creating competition between each other and their smaller holdings Bloc has created a lucrative state. Crime is stomped out by a loyal and highly trained police force, while the fearsome majesty of Ecumene naval might watches over their worlds. Of all their laws one held highest is thus: to be seen as a citizen one must pull their weight in society. Anyone who refuses to work, and is able in body and in mind, is punished as a criminal for wasting resources and leeching from the whole of Ecumene society. There is never an excuse in their world for not working or finding work, as there are always jobs available. Those who pull their weight are ensured financial security and protection from crime and invasion. Bloc encourages artistic creativity and expression, donating heavily to the arts, and has solidified a multicultural society for their citizens to live in. Ecumene prefers sturdy, well-fitted and strong vessels. Their soldiers are heavily armored, armed, physically strong enough to tear a fully-armored Jovian soldier in half, and are able to connect to the HIVE system to create nearly hive-minded warriors during combat. Their architectures and designs are greatly inspired by older, twenty-first century styles and favor utilitarianism above flash.

Magisterium of Logos:Founded in 2190 by Jesuit separatists, the Logoetics, as they would later come to be known, had their start as a nomadic fleet searching for a home. They eventually found it in a system of worlds around the star Saiph. Intent on keeping relatively insulated, especially against the wave of adversity they knew would come, they worked to build a strong defensive force. Their society wished, above all, to search within themselves and the depths of space for the questions, not necessarily the answers, to the secrets of the nature of the Universe, God and the purpose of all existing Life. The Magisterium rejected a medium of exchange, such as money, and fell back on barter and providing housing and food to those who did their share in life. Privacy is given, but only in small enough degrees, and communal lodgings and so on are fairly common. The goal became to create a world where people lived independently, but as one, and worked as a whole to move society forward. With their strong military, devoted science sector and motivated populace the Logoetics soon grew to encompass the Orion Constellation and solidified their place as the mightiest of the “free nations”. Their pioneering work in nanotechnology (on varying scales of size) and biological augmentation sparked inspiration in later nations, and their social beliefs influenced the dominant Machinist political faction in Ecumene that eventually grew to spawn Bloc. Though insulated, and somewhat isolationist, they were a fairly open people religiously and socially, and welcomed students who came to learn in their monasteries. One group of students would eventually come together to form the Envoy Corps based on many of the principles held by the Logoetics, such as devotion to duty, betterment of oneself and unbiased thought. Their religion, the Society of Word and Wind, is a complex riddle that gained grounds off studies of ancient mythologies and philosophies, and has grown into something entirely separate and mysterious. To this day neither Jovia nor Ecumene claims to understand the Logoetic religion, and most not born into it never do. The Magisterium, oldest of the free nations, managed to keep out of reach of Jovia and Ecumene for some time. However, an alien invasion on an unprecedented scale, never before witnessed by any human faction, threatened to topple their world. With aid from Ecumene the Logoetics succeeded in repelling their adversaries, though at the cost of total independency from either totality, although much of their science still remains a mystery well guarded by their Dark Network intelligence organization. Their architecture is basic at lowest, and grand revisitations to ancient stylizations at best. Their soldiers don “nanoskin” suits of armor for combat and undergo rigorous modifications after basic training. Their ships, last but not least, have been described as majestic and alien to any designs seen in other human nations, all quicksilver in color.

Fleet of Night: The Fleet's origins lie in five colony vessels, and three military frigates, rigged with then state-of-the-art FTL drives. The trip they were set to take took two years, but because they had not counted on subspace drift during long-distance jumps they missed their intended destination, arriving instead at the Helix Nebula. Even after correcting this “mistake” the Helix Nebula would remain their fall-back position, and eventually became their home, during the fallout succeeding the War of Division, when it also turned to a rallying point for refugees fleeing the carnage and desolation. Because of technological decay throughout human space the Fleet, alone, was left with FTL drives. It was around this time, when their numbers began to steadily grow, that they first called themselves the Fleet of Night. The prominent religion within the Fleet started to form around this time, “Cosmonautic Wicca”. The belief was that every star was a god or goddess, and planets their divine cradles where life could form. Their two primary deities were Helix, the Goddess of their new home, and the Lord God Sol, father of mankind. Black holes also found a place in this belief system, sometimes as gods of destruction, and other times as gods of renewal in conjunction with white holes. Names in their society took a change. The middle name became the family name, the last name the given name, and the first name (chosen by the child at fourteen) became their true, and sacred name. The privilege of using this name, when given to anyone outside the family and community, is considered a sign of deep trust. For anyone else the nickname, given at birth, must suffice. No matter what their beliefs, however, the Fleet welcome all into their numbers so long as they served for the betterment, and not the detriment, of the Fleet. As time went by they began to build on their own numbers, developing new forms of FTL which they began to share with other human nations to spur societal growth onward. Currently they are the third dominant human civilization, and the oldest remaining, possessing the zenith of current FTL, and the Fleet is now comprised of ships home-grown, Ecumene, Jovian, a few of the free nations, and even alien. The Guardian Fleet, the sum of their defensive vessels, is well known for its potential effectiveness in combat, though this has scarce been seen for various reasons. Their soldiers, Guardian Marines (Nightmare Marines, ex.), are highly armored and viciously armed. Their ships have been called graceful and elegant, reflecting a solid but organic design, and are colored with golds and deep reds.


Adam: Humanity has found the keys to eternity, to never ending life; the dream of never having to die made real. They call it Adam. Adam, in simplest terms, is technology that allows the thoughts of man to transcend time and space and makes death only a temporary inconvenience. Using what is dubbed an EVE Core to reach out and bind with the consciousnesses of those connected to its "strings" and bring them back if they should pass from this world. Using exceedingly advanced hardlight constructors to replicate ones body exactly the way it was at the time of death, minus wounds that may have been inflicted. The closer your "string" is to the EVE Cores the more power Adam grants, granting those close to its boundaries evolved forms of intelligence and physicality, and those strings within the Core allow those connected to Adam to become almost demigods.

Informal Gluttony


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Ship Layout: Informal Gluttony is divided into three sections stacked one atop the other. In the uppermost section is the Bridge and Gym, as well as the captain's personal quarters (which could be counted as the "fourth floor"). In the middle section lies the crew's quarters, the Mess and Med-Bay. The third, lowest and final section is devoted to the ship's massive Cargo Hold. The Engine lies at the very back of the ship, and is accessible from the second and third levels. Staircases between the Bridge and Gym pass through all three (or “four”) sections, and a second set between Med-Bay and the Engine connects the two lower sections. Each staircase is also joined by elevators should one wish to use them. The Cryo-Chamber is directly below the Med-Bay, and toured the bow of the ship.
The ship has been inhabited by its current crew for four years, at this point.

Informal Gluttony is equipped with eight primary weapons: five turret-based guns, all stream- and pulse-fire capable, and three mid-level launchers. The turrets are aligned as evenly as possible, with four divided equally between the bow and stern and the fifth on Gluttony's belly. All three launchers and lined up along the ship's back.

Bridge: At the bow of the ship, extended outward from the vessel's body, is the command center of Gluttony. Two chairs behind crescent-shaped holo-equipped terminals seat the pilot on the right and the Tactical Officer on the left. The viewer is not actually glass, but a “screen” being fed images from outside cameras along the ship's hull.

Gym: Behind the Bridge, taking up much of the rising "fin" is the ship's Gym. Comprised of three levels in itself: the lowest a pool; the middle for weightlifting, boxing, and even wrestling (coming fully equipped with a ring capable of generating an opponent by using featureless “dummy” fighters); the highest level is a track for running. Gravity can be altered within select perimeters of the second level to accommodate individual preferences.

Crew Quarters: A straight hall lined with housings stacked into two rows of two (two below, two above, the higher accessible by ladders). The rooms have, by now, been altered to fit those living within. Rooms can be locked with personal codes, should he or she living within wish to, or by means of retina scanning or some other form of personal identification.

Mess: Beyond the hall of the crew's living spaces is the Mess, the second-most lived in room of the ship just by feel and look alone. Warm and calming, the Mess is where one can go to relax with friends after a long day's work. An entire wall is devoted to the kitchen, and a long table dominates the center of the room.

Med-Bay: The medical facility proper is within an enclosed space bordered by walkways leading to the Mess on one end and the stairwell/elevators/Engine on the other. Within the hermetically sealed chamber all is stark white and clean, with several operating tables and beds. A mass of mechanical arms to used for more complex operations hovers menacingly in the air, still and silent in wait.

Cargo Hold: The name “Gluttony” was given to this particular vessel within TAF's Informal line because of its enormous cargo capacity. The mammoth chamber covers nearly the entire length of the ship, with a towering ceiling crawling with catwalks and lifts. Powerful mechanical limbs line the walls and wait, concealed, within alcoves until called upon. Within the Hold lies supplies for the crew, for the ship and anything that may need to be delivered on multiple procurement runs.

Engine: The true heart of the ship is situated at the stern. A dual-level room where activity throughout Gluttony may be monitored and regulated by the on-board Engineering Officer(s). Access to the inner-workings of the ship can be obtained from within this final chamber.

Crew


Captain: Taken by Imperial Waltz. The captain's implants allow them to survey all that goes on within the ship, immediately alerting them to any internal problems, able to control all functions of the ship and giving them a near omniscient view of all those presently aboard. In a sense, they are the ship's internal awareness. The captain is the ship. (1/1 Position(s) Filled/Available)

Pilot: Taken by Juular. Implants allow for increased interaction with the ship's controls, eliminating the necessity of physically managing controls during dangerous situations; connects the pilot to the vessel's outer sensors to heighten situational insight. Essentially the vessel's external awareness. (1/1 Position(s) Filled/Available)

Tactical Officer/Copilot/Gunner:Taken by conor The Tactical officer is charged with defense of the vessel, the feeding of extra information to the pilot during hazardous operations and piloting the ship if the pilot is incapacitated. Implants allow for simultaneous control of all eight of Gluttony's armaments and the boosting of external sensors. (1/1 Position(s) Filled/Available)

On-Board Envoy:Taken by Harlequin Smile The Envoy Corps is a powerful mercenary organization with a strict, almost dogmatic approach to their livelihood, and are renowned for their elite soldiers. As such, Envoys are totally loyal to their employer: in this case Gluttony's captain, and entirely politically neutral, favoring neither Ecumene nor Jovia. Implants are a scattering of all kinds, and cutting-edge in advancement. The Envoy is de facto first mate to the captain. (1/1 Position(s) Filled/Available)

TAF Overseer: Archeologist of a lower rank inside TAF in charge of maintenance and preliminary observation of artifacts during transport. An Overseer has no real power in the ship's hierarchy, and can only dictate matters dealing directly with the artifact(s) being moved. (2/2 Position(s) Filled/Available-Slots Filled)

Medical Officer: Taken by LeNarcissusThe ship's doctor, quite obviously. Implants allow for increased analytical powers, and as such the Medical Officer is able to identify even wounds running deeper than external. Implants also permit direct mental control of the Med-Bay's automated “SRGN” apparatus (the mechanical arms that aid in more complex or delicate procedures). (1/1 Position(s) Filled/Available)

Engineering Officer: In charge of monitoring, upkeep and repair of the ship's inner workings. Implants allow for constant awareness of Gluttony's systems and the identification of problems with the Engine and other less vital mechanisms. (2/3 Position(s) Filled/Available)

Cook: Tasked with food preparation and upkeep of the Mess. No special implants, as standard modifications would already allow for the mental manipulation and regulation of appliances and so on. (2/2 Position(s) Filled/Available-Slots Filled)

Adjutant Officer: Non-specialized officer on board the vessel. Tasked with the maintaining of cargo in the Hold and assisting others when the need arises. Essentially a Jack-of-all-trades charged with nothing in particular, yet at the same time anything available. (3/5 Position(s) Filled/Available)

Character Skeleton


Code: Select all
[b]Name[/b]:
[b]Nickname(s)/Alias(es)[/b]:
[b]Age[/b]:
[b]Gender[/b]:
[b]Sexual Orientation[/b]:

[b]Height[/b]:
[b]Position[/b]: (which position does your character hold on [i]Informal Gluttony[/i]?)
[b]Description[/b]: (Written paragraph mandatory; Picture allowed, no anime)
[b]Marks/Scars/Tattoos[/b]:

[b]Birthplace[/b]: (Homeworld, Nation)
[b]Citizenship[/b]: (Nation currently legal citizen of)
[b]Religious Affiliation[/b]:(You may create your own or modify current ones if you don't want to use traditional religions but please keep it reasonable.)
[b]Family[/b]: (Living or Deceased)
[b]Friends[/b]: (Living or Deceased)
[b]Spouse/Lover(s)[/b]: (Living or Deceased)

[b]Intelligence[/b]: (level of education; intellectuality)
[b]Sense of Humor[/b]:
[b]Personality[/b]: (written paragraph mandatory)
[b]Personal Quote[/b]: (sums up your character's demeanor/outlook on life)

[b]Equipment[/b]: (favored weapon/item/etc. important to your character)

[b]History[/b]: (written paragraph mandatory)

Toggle Rules

You are asked to present a mature, well-formed writing style. This includes: “do not 'wall of text'” and “please use good grammar.”

Do not god-mod, and do not make a Mary Sue.

Post once-to-twice a week, please.

No, and I must repeat, no child characters!

If for any reason you must be away for any amount of time, please attempt to inform via OOC.

Please respect other players.

Abide by all RPG rules.

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 11 authors

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Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
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Just as Lucia was about to stand up she saw Allan walk into the Mess with his hands in his pockets. Finishing standing up she nodded back to him in greeting, "Hey Allan," and smiled. She began to walk over to the pot when she heard his joke and giggled. When she reached the pot of gumbo she paused and looked back at the exchange between Ilia and Allan. As he ducked out of the room she said, "See you later."

She took the lid off the pot and stirred it, "It looks," she took a whiff, "and smells like it's nearly done. Do we need to do anything else to it? Or do we just wait until the rest of the crew gets here and serve?" While she waited for a response she began to arrange plates and dishes on the counter for later to save them the time of getting them out later.

As she set down a plate on the counter she received a message from Doc on her HUD. She paused for a minute to read it and responded with, "It'll be ready very soon. You could probably even make your way down now if you wanted to, we don't bite. Or I could just let you know exactly when it's done."

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Character Portrait: Jaxon Belail
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#, as written by Modesty
Jaxon Belail

A wave washed over him as the ship moved from slipstream into present speed, a feeling he had long since gotten used to. Jaxon had been on and off ships for as long as he could remember. He’d been on the current ship for the last four years, entering in to the crew as an adjutant officer and inspection officer on behalf of his father. Before that point, he’d been on the hallow frame of the great ship that he was currently residing in. Dear old dad was the designer of the Informal ships, after all.

Steady, confident strides carried the man down the walkway from his personal quarters to the mess hall. A great platter with a silver cover was carried in his hands as he whistled to himself. Already the scent of something absolutely delicious had reached him from the kitchens. Strong spices and exotic flavours let Jax know that both the women were on duty that day, and he was eager to taste whatever was cooking for the day. He was equally eager to reveal his surprise.

Allan exited the mess. Jax nodded his head in greeting, but said nothing, as he walked by and turned the corner. At any given time he was a guy that would stop for pleasantries and idle chitchat, but he had something on his mind and the monk seemed to have his own agenda. One hand raised in greeting as he stepped food into the kitchen. “Good day ladies, Din.” He said, flashing winning smile and sliding his covered plate on to an empty space on the counter. Jax covertly grabbed a spoon.

“Smells good in here, and I’m not just talking about the gumbo.” He grinned his Cheshire smile, winking towards Illa and her metal snake. Jaxon tilted his head, giving Lucia a quick peck on the cheek to disguise his stolen taste, his spoon dipping in to the stew and out. The sample was brought to his mouth, eyes closing in genuine delight as he savored it. “Mmm, that is seriously good.”

He quickly raised his hands, palms out in surrender as he dropped the spoon. It was a gesture to show he’d back off before either of them got on his case about trying the food before it was done, or something to that effect. If you asked him, though, it tasted ready for consumption. Still, that wasn’t the point of his visit. The Prince of the Informal Empire stepped around the petite cook and to the shining silver he’d brought in. “Don’t worry ladies, I’ll be out of you way in a second. I just thought I’d bring you a little something.”

Hands whipped off the cover of the dish he’d brought in. A sickly sweet and sticky tower of croquembouche, an old-style French pastry from the times before man had taken to the stars. Jaxon grabbed a piece of the cream-filled profiteroles and popped it in his mouth, enjoying the pleasant crunch of the caramel threads. A groan of enjoyment could be heard from him before he swallowed, smiled, and motioned for them to dig in. Clearly the dessert was recently made, and since they hadn’t docked in awhile, Jax must have been up all night creating the masterpiece.

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Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt
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“Huh? Oh, sure.” Delvia replied. She wasn't sure what he was talking about, the AI had been working fine for her, but it could be fun to tweak it some and not having to pull equipment apart to find such a simple problem again would make her work simpler. She popped a copy of the AI's coding into the back of her mind where she could read it and note any changes she'd like to make.

She started making her way back up to her spot on the catwalk when an alarm went off in her head. It had started as a means to keep her from working through meals, but now it only seemed to go off when she least wanted it to. The drones were recalled, nesting themselves into her hair as she headed for the mess. A moment passed before she remembered that Roger was still there and she doubled back to the engine room.

“I think that it's nearly time to eat,” she said, leaning over the catwalk railing, “You can leave those repairs for later.” She disappeared back down the walkway before he had a chance to respond.

Slipping into the mess she noted that no one else was eating yet. So she made for the couch, giving a brief nod to Ilia and Din, and sitting on the other end where she could wait until it was time to eat. The AI coding was pulled over her vision where she could better focus on it and transparent so she could keep track of her surroundings this time.

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Troy

Internally he chuckled. With some amusement he pondered the sanity of his crew and why someone always got rowdy anytime they all came together. Truly they could not go a week without something like this happening, he wondered why? Glancing down at Mari he couldn't help but mentally laugh; Well Durand was one of the main reasons but by no means the only cause. Ah, never a boring time here on the Gluttony. Always something to do or some mess to clean up.

Outwardly Troy seemed as stern and stoic as always, only the small grin on his face expressed his inner amusement. Closing his eyes and taking a calming breath before, "Alright. I'm going to tie both you and you together," he nodded his head to Allan and Mari as he spoke, " and lock you into a box full-" he glanced at Mari and smirked, "-of rainbows and sunshine and little bunny rabbits and other assorted adorable and sweet things."

Mari huffed, "Oh fuck that. I'm n-" Troy's eyes met hers, his clearly conveying the expression of 'Do not interrupt me.' which she knew to obey. Troy let his crew get away with a great many things on his ship but his word was law here and when he spoke he expected his crew to listen. Letting out a soft verbal chuckle he continued, "And then I'll tie that box onto a very long rope, let it be dragged behind the back of the ship and wont come and open the box again until one or both of you are dead."

This was obviously a joke but the underlining note of authority in his voice as he spoke made it clear that this was his way of telling them to shut up and get back to business. Allan laughed, "You are a cruel and unusual man, captain."

Replying with a innocent expression on his face, "Thank you, I try." Glancing at Mari he smirked as she was flipping him off but was otherwise silent. For all her crassness she obeyed her captain, for which he was grateful. Durand might have a off-putting personality to some but she was a great pilot and, surprising to most others, very close to him. She was closer to him then she was with almost anyone else, he mused.

That settled he addressed the rest of the crew. "All's fine. We'll be docked in five minutes, more or less." He said as he glanced at the viewer, watching with his 'waking' eyes as the Gluttony hit the atmosphere. The edge of her shields, ten meters away from the hull, glowing softly orange-red as the ship pushed against the gravity wall, breaking through the atmosphere. Looking back at his crew, "Marker, Allan and" he glanced back at his pilot and smirked,"Mari. Your coming with me. Thaksin, you have the ship while I'm away. Keep the kiddies from scampering off would ya?" he quipped at his Envoy. Looking at his resident TAF officers, "One of you can come with me, the other will stay here and direct artifact placement and such. I'll let you two decide among yourselves who goes."

Walking out of the bridge and to his quarters Troy internally laughed as he watched through the ships sensors Jaxon's newest attempt at wooing his cooks. Taking the stairs up to the captain's quarters, Troy grabbed his jacket laying on the arm of his couch. Though the city self-regulated its internal climate they were likely to be outdoors at some point while on world and the temperature on the night-side of the planet tended to drop extensively. Indeed, when they got there it would be around fifty-below zero. Modern nanites could heat up the human body to compensate but it would still be rather cold.
Mentally contacting Masters, "No need, we'll restock while we're here."

With the jacket on and after making sure his handgun and gauntlet was in working order(one can never be to careful while in the Outer Rim) Troy walked out of his quarters.

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Character Portrait: Trey Keeling
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#, as written by LSunday
Trey watched the fight between Allan and Durand unfold, and tried to look very nonthreatening near the entrance. He was glad Allan had gone all the way in, because if he hadn't Durand would have snapped at him as the first person to speak. He slowly stepped backwards into the main group and waited for the captain to interfere. The corner of his mouth flicked upwards at the scolding Troy eventually gave her. The two of them certainly had a strange relationship, but after four years he'd just learned to let the two of them be.

As he waited for the captain to make a decision on who would be going with him into the city, he flicked through the updates on local news that were becoming available on his implants. There didn't seem to be anything particularly worth noting, but it was a habit of his whenever they neared their docking point.

At the captain's word, Trey turned to Vivian. "You don't mind if I..." he trailed off, looking her in the eye as his face said 'please.' He loved being able to see new planets, and stopping at the same place twice in his life without ever getting off the ship would bother him. Besides, Vivian was better at actually getting all new artifacts to where they needed to go. She always had her lists and charts ready for a new arrival.

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Character Portrait: Roger Masters Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt Character Portrait: Troy Caudillo
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Roger breathed a sigh of relief when hearing the captain; not every port had a repair station. Roger was glad for the free time; he would not have to calibrate the dampeners for the next few hours as basic calibrations would be sufficant for a short time providing Masters was linked with the AI every 15 minutes. The job would not take long, upon hearing Del's remark about grub Roger replied: "got ya mam, will be up in a tick.

Closing his eyes Roger sent a message to the captain, it took Rogers a significant amount of time to establish a mental link compared to the rest of the crew. Roger was not used to mental linking and had slower systems. For most starting a mental link was as easy as breathing, Rogers needed a certain level of concentration.

"Understood sir, can you please allow me to accompany you while examining the replacements? Anything expensive is probably cheap, anything cheap is probably near worthless and anything free is broke anyway. There are a zillion fakes, cheats, junked and copies out there, I rather make sure we get the right ones. Not sayin you don't know your Mk12, 7632, Ak15 generation Gama Standard Vickers & Pegasus Dampeners from your average Lal Mk 303 66A generation beta cheap skate copies, I rather see, hear, touch and taste a dampener before taking it into my action."

Within a few minutes the temporary repairs where finished and Rogers went into the Naffy whistling the old Freeside classic Sola Sola here I go.

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Character Portrait: Lucia Samson Character Portrait: Tyler Marker Character Portrait: Ava Desilli Mia Character Portrait: Jaxon Belail
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Marker snapped a smart salute as Troy left the bridge and he quickly followed suit, heading to his quarters to pick up a few things, including his coat. He opened the door to his room and stepped over to his closet, pulling out the only reminder of his time in the merc forces: a military grade jacket that was all but one step short of an environment suit in its protection levels while maintaining the unsuspecting look of an average jacket. Meaning without the rest of the gear designed for it it lacked any sort of sealing but it sure as hell kept a body warm when it was needed.

He slung the jacket over his shoulder and made sure his omniblade implant worked, and with a shower of sparks and a glowing red light the implant materialized a blade almost a foot long from the back of his right wrist. He looked the blade over a few times before taking a duelist stance he had learned in the military and taking a few practice swings. He ended up gouging a line across his wall and he grimaced. The captain was going to take that out his pay most likely. He let the blade dematerialize and he dropped his arm, not for the first time telling himself to return to practicing with the weapon. A person was just like a weapon, if you let it sit too long rust accumulated and he had been sitting for a very very long time.

With a sigh he walked back out of his quarters and let the door close behind him, heading towards the Mess to grab a quick bite before heading out. He walked in on Jaxon doing his best to impress the cooks with his most recent creation and with a chuckle leaned against the entrance to the kitchen, watching the scene unfold.

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"I assume you're heading up as well?"

For a second Reeve stood silent, the world around him seemingly moving in slow motion. A side effect of reintegrating systems after the several hours he'd just spent as a 'pure,' disconnected from any and all augments. Vaguely aware that Vivian was saying something, he turned to face her, nodded slowly, let out a gentle "Thank you, everyone. I'll see you on the bridge, then."

It took a moment to realise that everyone had already started to leave, had spun away from him and made for the transits. Brows wrinkled almost imperceptibly as the man realised he'd just zoned out again, lost focus for long enough that the others had moved half the distance to the exit before he'd even processed that they were going. Still, he mused, smile regaining the strength it had held when he'd first greeted the crew, there was nothing to do about it now. The AF net was old, perhaps its interfaces were losing reliability. And if so, wasnt that entirely his fault. No neural lace was designed to be deactivated, especially not so regularly. Anton had been horrified when he'd dropped it into conversation. Said it was tantamount to switching off a chunk of your mind every day. Perhaps, next they passed an Envoy station, he'd place a request for a custom build.

Whistling tunelessly, he followed the others, pinging Troy with a notice that he was on his way and patching into ship comms so he could hear what was going on before he got there. There were footsteps, then his lips split in a foxlike grin as Durand greeted everyone in her inimical style. Honestly, Reeve had never understood how the girl had qualified as a pilot, and especially why she was trusted so implicitly, besides the obvious reason. And that was another thing that ran at odds with him. The relationship between her and Troy. Relationships amongst serving crews was explicitly forbidden in Envoy code, since one pilot dropped his ship into atmosphere in what was almost certainly a suicide mission, willing to risk the lives of the half-regiment on board for that of his lover. Still, her skills were exemplary, and much as the girl was caustic and overly, pointlessly, aggressive, and it wasnt as if the rest of them were any better. That was something about the captain. He seemed to attract the cast offs, the highly skilled and slightly odd. His own little disfunctional family.

Troy was talking. Some joke about Durand and Allan, then orders. Hm. He was to remain on ship whilst several others dropped planetside. Shame. It would have been nice to stretch his legs, see something that wasnt the ship, even if just for an hour. The captain had also decided, for reasons Reeve couldnt see, to leave them without a pilot. True, if it came down to it, the Excessive in his quarters could take override and control, but with nowhere near the fine motion that a dedicated pilot could bring to the table. Nevertheless.

He strode on to the bridge, nodded once at Troy, gave a simple, "Of course, Captain." Nothing else needed to be said. Not here, at least, in public. As Troy walked out of the bridge, he followed, spinning on his heel, dovetailing as Troy headed for quarters, Reeve instead making for the mess. It'd been several hours since he'd eaten anything, and from the appetising smell of cooking food, it was almost ready. Slipping through the door, raising a hand to their resident alchemist a la mange, he made his way to the couch, stretched out catlike, then perched himself the opposite end to Delvia, glanced sidelong at the girl, obviously absorbed in something or other, her eyes staring off at a point far past the walls of the mess, then relaxed backwards with a sigh and waited for dinner.

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#, as written by Modesty
Vivian

The friendly confrontation rolled out in front of Vivian, which she politely tuned out. Anticipation coursed through her veins, barely keeping excitement at bay. She waited for the needless flirting in disguise of bickering faded and for the Captain to answer what everyone was waiting for. What was the plan? Who was going, and who was being left behind? Names rolled off the tip of his tongue, leaving an open question between the TAF Officers.

Vivian turned to her partner, eyebrows raised and lips parting to beg for the opportunity, but Trey beat her to the punch. "You don't mind if I...” he said, pleading with puppy dog eyes. Her lips closed, quietly contemplating arguing how much she loved the off-ship exploits. Mentally she pushed the thoughts from her mind. Trey loved them just as much, and she’d gone on the last time. At least if he went, she would get first crack at whatever treasures they brought back.

It was with a shy she relented, spreading her arms in defeat. “Alright, you go. But I have conditions! You have to bring back pictures, tell me every detail, and it’s my turn next time.”

She smiled, slightly envious. It wasn’t long before the benefits of staying behind came to mind. For one, she recalled the mouth-watering scent of gumbo coming from the kitchens down the way, and hunger reared its ugly head once more. For two, company was less than favourable… she could avoid the Captain’s persistence and Durand’s cold barbs at the same time. Her posture relaxed.

Vivian sat down in a empty chair, glancing over at Hanlon; “It appears we’re to be left behind this time.”

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#, as written by conor
Josh couldn't help but laugh at the scene unfolding on the bridge. It seemed a mismatch of people that shouldn't get along at all. Well granted some of them didn't get on well but at least both parties always had the common sense to realise that it was smarter not to get in each others way. After all it was a giant metal box gliding through space, not exactly the place you want to piss people off who you might be stuck with for months on end. It actually uprised him that there were no major clashes of ego's in a confrontational sense. Yet anyway.

As people began to leave the bridge he slouched back into his chair and looked at the screens in front of him. He was glad to be left on the ship, he didn't feel like heading onto the world he was comfortable here on the ship, t was quiet and peaceful. “It appears we’re to be left behind this time.”. Josh spun around to see Vivian behind him. Josh liked Vivian, she was very down to earth and very proud of her work. He liked that in a person. "Yea" he chuckled. "We sure are, but to be honest I prefer it that way. Quiet, no hassle of the city and all that hustle and commotion, bleh, doesn't suit me at all. I'm surprised you didn't go down though. Its an interesting old planet. Perhaps a little anal but nice nonetheless. Think of it this way though, at least we get first servings on the food" he laughed and winked at Vivian as he sat back into his chair.

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Patrick got out of his chair and started to circle the room in a endless loop. He kept checking his messages and the only message he had was from Lucia about food. As he strolled around his office while holding his wrinkled forehead, he kept scolding himself out loud.
"Sure you can check the medicine cabinet every fucking hour but it takes you eight months to realize that the bloods going bad." He yelled at himself "These people entrusted their lives to you and all you do is check the fucking medicine cabinet."
He threw his stethoscope across the room and then stopped moving to calm his nerves. He walked slowly to his stethoscope, picked it up and placed it on his table. He then proceeded to remove his traditional white lab coat and rested it on his chair, folded neatly. Keeping calm he left the med bay and headed towards the Mess. Still angry at his negligence but appearing calm from the outside he practiced how to fake his smile as he got closer and closer to the Mess.
"We need blood," He messaged the entire crew this time. "Please enjoy your meal and meet me in the med bay after an hour when free." hoping this time he would get a reply. When he entered the Mess and saw everyone who was there, his smile faded as he knew he had let everyone down. Even the smell of delicious food which was something he almost always enjoyed couldn't cheer him up.
"Food looks great as always." He said to Lucia. "I'll take a plate, please." After thanking the cook he sat on a table alone, playing with his food as he checked through his logs to see if his melancholic status had caused him to miss something else. Barely touching his food, he hurried back to the med bay to ensure he was at his office when someone showed up.

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Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
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Just as Lucia finished replying to Doc she moved her attention from her HUD to the task at hand. Grabbing a handful of silverware she heard Jaxon say, “Good day ladies, Din,” and she turned just in time to she him raise his hand in greeting. “Heya, Jax,” she said replying with a small smile and setting the silverware down simultaneously as Jaxon set the plate on the counter.

She eyed the plate wondering what Jaxon brought them, slightly suspicious of it being some sort of prank.

Jaxon stepped extremely close to her so she closed her eyes for a split second knowing it was only for a casual peck on the cheek, “Glad you think so,” she paused and watched him put his hands up, dropping the spoon. She giggled slightly at his sign of surrender, “Cute.”

Lucia watched him pull the cover off the plate. To her disappointment, she couldn’t smell sweetness of the pastries due to the overpowering smell of gumbo, but they did look good nonetheless. Observing him pop one of them into his mouth she asked, “Did you make these?”

Before Jaxon could answer Lucia noticed a stream of people coming in giving her the queue to start serving. She reached for a ladle and a plate while keeping an eye on Jaxon so as not to break the conversation. As she dipped a ladle into the pot, her HUD notified her of a message from Doc that she’d read later. She continued to make plates and set them on the counter.

She saw Doc come in and grabbed on of the plates when he asked for one and made her way over to him. “What was the message about, Doc? I didn’t get to read it yet—thought I might as well ask.”

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View All » Add Character » 16 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Erna Mari Mallory Durand
Character Portrait: Troy Caudillo
Character Portrait: Roger Masters
Character Portrait: Reeve Alains Thaksin
Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt
Character Portrait: Trey Keeling
Character Portrait: Tyler Marker
Character Portrait: Ava Desilli Mia
Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
Character Portrait: Din

Newest

Character Portrait: Din
Din

"Ooh, but of course he does that. Organics can be very, very stupid."

Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
Lucia Samson

"Why worry about it now? What's done is done."

Character Portrait: Ava Desilli Mia
Ava Desilli Mia

"Blessed be the stars that give this dark void light."

Character Portrait: Tyler Marker
Tyler Marker

"I thought I was out of this mess..."

Character Portrait: Trey Keeling
Trey Keeling

"Some people will do what they do; don't bother them, and don't be bothered until they interfere with what you do."

Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt
Delvia Plastt

I could probably fix that.

Character Portrait: Reeve Alains Thaksin
Reeve Alains Thaksin

"A life without purpose is no life at all, no."

Character Portrait: Roger Masters
Roger Masters

Any one for cards?

Character Portrait: Troy Caudillo
Troy Caudillo

"Mari! What the hell are you doing to my ship?"

Character Portrait: Erna Mari Mallory Durand
Erna Mari Mallory Durand

"I hold grudges and pack an M30. You don't wanna know more."

Trending

Character Portrait: Reeve Alains Thaksin
Reeve Alains Thaksin

"A life without purpose is no life at all, no."

Character Portrait: Ava Desilli Mia
Ava Desilli Mia

"Blessed be the stars that give this dark void light."

Character Portrait: Roger Masters
Roger Masters

Any one for cards?

Character Portrait: Troy Caudillo
Troy Caudillo

"Mari! What the hell are you doing to my ship?"

Character Portrait: Erna Mari Mallory Durand
Erna Mari Mallory Durand

"I hold grudges and pack an M30. You don't wanna know more."

Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
Lucia Samson

"Why worry about it now? What's done is done."

Character Portrait: Trey Keeling
Trey Keeling

"Some people will do what they do; don't bother them, and don't be bothered until they interfere with what you do."

Character Portrait: Din
Din

"Ooh, but of course he does that. Organics can be very, very stupid."

Character Portrait: Tyler Marker
Tyler Marker

"I thought I was out of this mess..."

Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt
Delvia Plastt

I could probably fix that.

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Troy Caudillo
Troy Caudillo

"Mari! What the hell are you doing to my ship?"

Character Portrait: Din
Din

"Ooh, but of course he does that. Organics can be very, very stupid."

Character Portrait: Reeve Alains Thaksin
Reeve Alains Thaksin

"A life without purpose is no life at all, no."

Character Portrait: Lucia Samson
Lucia Samson

"Why worry about it now? What's done is done."

Character Portrait: Ava Desilli Mia
Ava Desilli Mia

"Blessed be the stars that give this dark void light."

Character Portrait: Delvia Plastt
Delvia Plastt

I could probably fix that.

Character Portrait: Roger Masters
Roger Masters

Any one for cards?

Character Portrait: Trey Keeling
Trey Keeling

"Some people will do what they do; don't bother them, and don't be bothered until they interfere with what you do."

Character Portrait: Tyler Marker
Tyler Marker

"I thought I was out of this mess..."

Character Portrait: Erna Mari Mallory Durand
Erna Mari Mallory Durand

"I hold grudges and pack an M30. You don't wanna know more."


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