Temporal Conscripts

Temporal Conscripts

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People from all over the world from many different eras are pulled forward in time to help solve a mysterious crisis.

671 readers have visited Temporal Conscripts since Lemunde created it.

Introduction

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Preface:

The Temporal Guild is an organization that holds a monopoly over all reverse time travel. Little is known about them other than they strictly prohibit all time travel into the past by third parties, they use their monopoly to manipulate the past for their own ends and that they are most likely from the far distant future. It has been surmised that their intentions are benevolent, however their methods can be quite disruptive to peoples' lives.

One such method and the one they use most often is to pull individuals from the distant past into the not-so-distant past (from the Temporal Guild's perspective) to more subtly manipulate events without over polluting the timeline. These individuals have come to be known as "temporal conscripts", denoting that they have traveled far through time and that they had little or no choice in the matter.

The Onyx, a corvette class star ship in the Mayall galaxy, is about to have an unexpected and not entirely welcome visit from such an individual.

Instructions for New Players:

Once a player's character is approved, their first post should include a general description of their character including age, appearance, personality, where they're from, when they're from and a walk through of what a typical day in their character's life is like. In fact players can use this as their character sheet if they like. New characters will still require a description in their character sheet to be approved.

Toggle Rules

Jackasses:
Don't be one! Trolling, spamming, excessive vulgarity and other asshattery will not be tolerated.

Post limits:
I'm not going to require a minimum post limit but I do ask that players post regularly (preferably daily) and that each post has some thought put into it.

Character/Event controlling:
Player's control their own character's actions. They do not control the actions of other players or NPCs except for NPCs they have exclusive access to (such as NPCs players create for their characters' first posts). Events are generally controlled by the GM. Player's will be told when there are other events that they should describe, such as their first post.

Romance:
This is not a romance focused RP. Flirting and talking about your girl back home is fine but your goal here is to save the galaxy, not to get to third base with the science officer. If it starts to get out of hand you will be warned and if it continues you'll be asked to leave. There are more than enough RPs out there where you can flex your love muscle.

Content and Age Limits:
Given the previous rule there should not be any sexual content to speak of. However I do expect there to be a moderate level of violence and strong language. Therefore I'm rating this RP at PG-13. There may also be a mild to moderate level of religious references so if playing RPs where fictional/alternate religions are involve makes you uncomfortable this may not be the RP for you.

Characters:
New characters must adhere to the following guidelines:
*They must be human
*They must be a non-celebrity (no significant historical records)
*They must be able to function in society without assistance
*They can be from any part of the world
*They can be from any era spanning the bronze age up to real-world present.
*When in doubt, ask

The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 4 authors

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin

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#, as written by Lemunde
A beam of energy split the blackness of space, pulsating between bright hews of blue and green. The beam pounded into the hull of the nameless destroyer splashing bits of molten metal into the void. The destroyer appeared to not be perturbed by this and rather than return fire it continued it's exodus away from the two massive blue suns that made up this binary star system. Their light was growing ever dimmer as the distance increased but even this light was occasionally broken by the barely visible, black vessel that pursued the destroyer.

"A hit commander!" the weapons officer shouted, "Their propulsion output is down to 63 percent!"

Commander Viridin's voice was a mix of excitement and desperation. "What's his AGIR!?"

From the helm "Grav influence at 0.09 percent!"

"What's the status of the arcpulse cannon?" Viridin looked back at the weapons officer.

"Recharge in 8 seconds!"

Almost there. The next shot would be enough to cripple his interstellar drive. The destroyer would not escape him this time. Or so he thought. Viridin counted down the seconds in his head. 6...5...4... Yes, there was enough time! Physics dictates that an interstellar drive cannot operate while a ship's average gravitational influence rating is above 0.06 percent. Yes. Just enough time.

3...2...1...


"Arcpulse cannon rea...!"

"Fire!!!" Viridin spat at the view screen before the weapons officer could finish, jumping up from his chair.

Got you! he thought to himself, his heart pounding with the anticipation. His thoughts were premature, however. The beam of energy he expected to see melting through the last bit of armor covering the destroyers interstellar drive and pulverizing it into slag never appeared.

"Commander! The arcpulse cannon's safety just engaged!"

Viridin's head turned sharply to his weapons officer, his face red with a look of frustration and confusion. For a fraction of a second the weapons officer thought he might lunge at him and try to tear his face off. But Viridin, angry as he was, had much more control than that.

Viridin reached over and hit the comm button on his chair. "Engineering! What's wrong with my gun!?"

The overhead speaker crackled "There's some kind of foreign matter in the cooling chamber. We're trying to..."

Before he could finish, the helmsman called out: "Commander!"

Viridin turned to the view screen. The stars that lined the backdrop of the destroyer began to deform and ripple as it shrank away. When the stars returned to normal, the destroyer was gone.

Viridin straightened the coat of his uniform, composing himself emotionally and physically.

"Have security meet me in the armory. I want to know just what kind of 'foreign matter' is in my cannon."

Viridin turned and walked down the short stairs that marked the boundary of the bridge and down the hallway, making his way to the armory.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick

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The cane of James Fritswick made a sharp tapping sound as it connected repeatedly with the paved pathway leading through his back garden.
By his side was a young lady, to whom he addressed as 'Miss Rowanne'. She was a fairly pretty lady, dressed in flowery garments that were simple in design, yet visibly appealing - including a corset pulled a bit too tight for physical comfort, but a perfect means to complete the aesthetics.
Fritswick was wearing his week standard attire - a brown tweed jacket over a plain grey shirt, accompanied by a black-with-red-stripes necktie.

"As you could probably tell," Fritswick continued. "I don't usually have guests within the house; most of them gather around the garden as ah... as we are in now."
Fritswick put a deliberate inflection on his speech, emphasising every use of each 'a' syllable. To many it seemed to make him forgetful, but to others it certainly completed his image.
"Please, forgive me for saying this," Miss Rowanne started, raising the back of her hand to her lips," but how do you... find the time to deal with your infamous watch collection?"
Miss Rowanne chuckled at her own joke, while Fritswick, used to that sort of remark, spoke with a smile on his face.
"Well, ah, you see I always believe in the motto, "You can always find time for a hobby of your passion". Timekeeping is a simply fascinating hobby of mine, possibly part of the reason I became so interested in machines as a young boy."
Miss Rowanne continued to chuckle as they stepped over a cracked path tile.
A few steps later, Fritswick raised his voice.
"Good day, Sam!"
At the far edge of the garden, a teenaged gardener raised his hand in reply.
"Afternoon, Mr Fritswick!"

Miss Rowanne chuckled a little more at their display.
"I must say, Mister Fritswick, you're exactly as they say..."
"They must say good things, I hope?"
"You're a fine gentleman, but at the same time, you don't have that... how shall I put it, stale air about you that others have."
Fritswick guffawed at her compliment.
"You are quite a woman as well." He paused before continuing. "You may tell your father that, yes, I'll reconsider the proposal."
Miss Rowanne nodded in confirmation.
"Thank you kindly. Oh, I nearly forgot the occasion! Do you have the time?"
Fritswick rolled his eyes, pulling out a silver-cased pocket watch from within his jacket.
"It is fifteen minutes past the hour of four."
"Oh, heavens, I'm afraid I'll have to end my visit here."
Miss Rowanne bowed in courtesy, before taking off back into the house.
"Forgive me, James! I may see you again within the fortnight!"
Fritswick waved her goodbye as she disappeared behind the door.

"Nice woman," Fritswick muttered to himself. "Father of hers is still a right..."
He inhaled sharply. With his exhale, he let all of his anger into the summer breeze.
"That crook'll get my secrets the day bowties go out of style."
Fritswick continued along the garden path - though, he admitted to himself that calling it a garden was a mistake, as it encompassed almost an entire acre by itself.
Fritswick came to the centrepiece of the area; a gazebo, sheltered by a wooden roof, within it four wooden chairs and a child-sized chest, within which were many books of many subjects.
Feeling rather tired, having spent the last three hours entertaining the daughter of his rival, he decided to take one of his customary afternoon dozes in the gazebo.
He pulled out the watch from his right pocket - this one a slightly larger one with a fine wood finish.
To his mild surprise, it said the time was five twenty five.
He quickly took out the silver watch to compare - it told him the time was four twenty two.
"Now," he muttered. "Which one of you decided to stop working right?"
He glared disdainfully at both the watches, both of them ticking at the exact same speed.
"Oh well," he thought aloud. "Won't do her too much harm."
Fritswick pulled up his usual chair, sat right beside the chest of books. He decided against taking one out, realising he would insult the author by falling asleep right after he began.
And so Fritswick slept through the rest of that summer Thursday afternoon.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors

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#, as written by Lemunde
Fritswick awoke in hell. His entire body felt as if it were covered in liquid flame. He could not see; his eyelids refusing to open lest his eyeballs be consumed in fire as well.

He could not fathom what sin he could have possibly committed to deserve such punishment. He was a decent enough man, all things considered. But these thoughts were merely momentary distractions from the excruciating pain.

After what seemed like an eternity he felt his body being slowly pulled. He could hear a dull roaring sound and imagined a tidal wave of molten iron, lead or rock coming to compound his suffering. He was no doubt surprised to find his body striking something cold and hard, the dull roar turning into a constant splash that slowly diminished. There were voices, not demonic as he might have expected but certainly strange, speaking unrecognizable tongues. They were shouting at each other, some of them sounding like commands.

Fritswick's body still felt like it was on fire. As cool as the floor felt, it's touch only compounded the pain. It was no different when the hands touched him, several of them trying to lift him up. He instinctively struggled against them, crying out in agony, but their grasp was firm. The pain was unbearable and just as he thought he wouldn't be able to take any more he felt a sharp stinging sensation in his neck. He shouted out again but his shouting died away as he suddenly decided shouting was too much work. He felt his pain slowly diminish along with his consciousness.

--------------------


Fritswick awoke on some kind of padded slab in the middle of a bright room. Light poured out from what he could only describe as a large white circle in the ceiling. He began to look around and saw a blue beam of light spilling out from some kind of mechanical device suspended from the ceiling just in front of the foot of the slab. The beam moved back and forward over his naked body. From his waste down his skin was red and horribly blistered but as the beam past over each one the blisters melted away. He tried to move to get a better look at this clearly fascinating phenomenon but found that he couldn't.

A hand pressed against his shoulder and a foreign voice calmly spoke to him. The voice was that of a woman, blonde and dressed in what he could only presume to be some kind of military uniform, though none he had ever seen before. He could not understand what the woman was saying but by her voice he understood that she most likely didn't want him to move.

The woman reached over and picked up a device situated on a nearby counter. She held his forehead and pressed the device against his temple. For a brief moment he felt as if she had shoved a nail into his skull but the pain vanished almost immediately. She spoke again, this time in clear American English.

"Who are you?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Ramirez

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Ramirez remembered taking one shot of whiskey. Just one shot. Now he found himself strapped into a hospital bed being wheeled around by unfamiliar faces, "who.. who are you people?" he showed more restraint and defiance than fear, but he was definitely a bit afraid. Those around him said nothing as he was wheeled through door after door. Ramirez knew he'd made enemies, in the marines, in his old gang from his adolescent years, hell he had people who hated him for the pride he had in his own heritage. But none who those people were capable of what he was seeing. He saw doctors In lab coats, he saw guards with firearms he'd never seen in the marines. Suddenly he was wheeling into a room where a mysterious woman stood over him. Ramirez drifted away into a deep sleep as her hypnotic voice whispered into his ear.

He woke up periodically, fits of pain shooting through his body, then ending and sending him back into unconsciousness. He could only remember waking and struggling against his restraints. He caught glimpses of numerous figures in and out of consciousness but could not make out any of them.

Finally he woke up, feeling no pain other than a sharp headache. He cursed himself, wondered what was in that shot of whiskey. He was still restrained, but noticed his Revolver on the table. He looked around the dark room. He remembered areas like this in Iraq, places so dark night vision could barely make out certain crevices. He remembered when it was dark to listen to all the sounds around him so he could know where anything may be. So he listened, quietly, carefully, and heard nothing. The room was so quiet that only his breath made any audible sound of note. He fought every notion in his body not to do what he was going to do. He'd seen men do this in Iraq, watched their life expectancy drop to zero as a shot rang out with the sound of brains hitting the wall. He knew it could happen here, but he risked it, "hello?!" he yelled as loud as he could, "somebody! anybody! where am I?!"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone

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The cool feel of the rifle's stock drew him ever closer to mental state, that place sacred to marksmen the world over, that divided a rifleman from a sniper. In many ways it was a lonely place even with his spotter looking down range calling out wind speed and direction. Even as his heart slowed down and his hand inched the trigger ever closer to the purpose of the training. His dark brown eye focusing through the scope at the reason he was here,half a fucking world from home.

They always looked the same,who and what did not matter when a high powered rifle was in the equation. The who in this case was Ahmed,a English born Muslim who was trading high end weapons to the enemies of his boss. Well Ahmed had obviously much more faith in his compatriots then was wise. After all an entire recon unit was currently surrounding this meeting of terrorists solely because of intel brought for a song and dance. The Marine Corp was always ready to expel a little sweat if it meant a good kill.

This party however would not start till the order came on down from the mountain though. His spotter held the radio close watching this leanly built sniper utterly focused on the target that appeared through his scope. Breathing was slowed till the point his copper toned skin showed no ripples from oxygen flowing in it's blood. He was in the zone,one this Marine Corporeal could and often did maintain for hours and once for a day and a half.

"Rogue 1 this is Rouge Actual mision is a go..I repeat mission is a go."A disembodied voice of female origin spoke over the handset the spotter held with a slight smile.

The Corporeal didn't bother with the smile for he had a job to do, he had a lot of training to pay back Uncle Sam for. The trigger of the rifle completed its song and dance,striking a bullet that shot from the chamber and down the barrel. Smoke and fire echoed as the bullet transcribed its ballistic path through empty air. In less time the it took for the trigger pull Ahmed felt the ever fleeting tearing pain of a bullet induced heart wound. The sniper always wondered if the targets ever had time to feel regret. Medically speaking he knew it to be an impossibility, not enough time for thought processes. But spiritually this Apache born and bred jarhead liked to think so. The good Lord always gave a second chance even on Death's door.

With that release of the mental state sacred to snipers the pent up fury of Marines was in turn unleashed. Rogue 1 had ten Marines KIA and wanted blood. The screams of surprise intermingled with the distinct reports of NATO chambered weapons. Marines shouting obscenities at these desert born terrorists drowned out the Arabic prayers to Allah. Sweeping the rifle the Corporeal provided overwatch and ended six more lives before there was nothing left to kill.

" Lord I beg forgiveness for the lives I've taken..Let my actions speak my intents and guide my hands so that I slay only the deserving. " The tall and lean Apache muttered to himself,a prayer to a God he still believed in five years into the Service.

Clean up went quickly and slowly at the same time. Each body prayed over silently as he helped carried them from that place of violence and blood soaked sands. Then came that ever tedious ride across unremarkable desert men had been killing for since the dawn of time. The roar of the HMHVEE engine lulling the Sniper into a half dozing mood.

" Not a bad day huh Kyle." His spotter a heavily built Caucasian straight out of a Nazi breeding camp remarked as he tore into a pack of Trail Mix.

" The job was done and we all get to enjoy beer and pussy later so yeah a good day all round." Kyle replied with a sleepy sigh as his eyes slipped closed. It had been a long ass day, most of it spent under the day time sun.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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#, as written by Lemunde
As Ramirez shouted he noticed something had changed from a moment ago. It was still dark, still quiet. But it was cold. Much colder than it was a moment ago. And the somewhat soft bed he was laying on was replaced by cold metal. His restraints were gone, as were his clothes. Feeling for his revolver he found it missing as well.

Something was very wrong here. More so than before. It was as if he were in a dream that kept changing. But it felt so real.

Ramirez stood up with ease. He felt as if he had suddenly lost 50 pounds, but feeling his arms and legs, they were as muscular as ever.

His shouting contained clues as to when the moment of change occurred. One moment it sounded as if he were in some kind of basement. The next, as if he were in a large metal room, his voice reverberating off the walls.

His voice was not the only sound in the room. A very low hum seemed to encompass the room, probably some kind of climate control. But there was something else. Something faint, just a few feet away from him. It sounded like...breathing. He was not alone.

--------------------


Kyle's dreams grew surprisingly pleasant. He dreamed of one of the men he had just killed, lying there motionless. Then the man slowly turned his head and looked up at Kyle. One would normally be horrified by such a sight but the man's face contained no malice. And as the man began to smile, forgiveness in his eyes, the sun sat on the horizon, the hot wind turning into a cool breeze, then the cool breeze turning into cold air...

The dream was interrupted by shouting.

"Somebody! Anybody! Where am I!?"

The cold air remained, and he could feel cold metal against his bare skin. He was certainly not in the vehicle he was in before he drifted off. He was in some kind of dark metal room. Silently feeling around for his gear, it was nowhere to be found. Kyle assessed his situation...

Characters Present

No characters tagged in this post!

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Dreams,a trick of the mind when utter exhaustion forced the deepest sleep out of this mortal coil. A place where past,present,and maybe even future mixed together in one grand melange of impossible scenarios. A state of mind long held to be a higher plane by those who held belief in something more then the day to day struggle of living. For many a prophet had been inspired by the words of their gods in the dreams of a sleeping mind. Perhaps it was simply the fact that in dreams one was stripped of their preconceived notions so that God could indeed talk through them.

Whatever the how and the why Kyle had never been disturbed by the nature of his dreams. Then again nothing disturbing ever happened in them.Even after five years of carrying a rifle this Marine with the MOS 0317 had never awoke in the middle of the night terrified of what the world of dreams cared to show him. This voyage into his sleeping mind proved no different from a thousand others.

The hot desert wind blew around him, it's sand laden fury a familiar one after these five years of carrying his gun and dog tags. Before him lay the body of a dead Arab, one whom he recognized as a life he had ended this afternoon. The copper toned scout sniper stood over this desert born man, though an enemy Kyle felt no malice from the body. Indeed after a few minutes of gazing the body turned its head and smiled up at this Apache that had ended it's life short of grey hair and grandchildren. No sign of the violence that had ended his life marred the Arab's visage. The smile of this fallen enemy acted as a balm for a heart weary of the desert wind.

The wind grew cool as the sun sank past the horizon and the Marine knew the reason why the heat of the desert dimmed. Bowing his head in thanks Kyle prayed for the soul of this man who could forgive his killer. Though as the last words left his lips the scout sniper felt a sudden unease as if everything had lurched sideways just the slightest bit.

Cool wind gave way to the feel of cold metal against bare skin. And were the dream of a dead man gave no terror this sensation was a pause for concern. Snapping his eyelids open the carrier of rifles was greeted not with the bright morning sun of a desert camp but the darkness of shadow strewn room. The darkness made it difficult to be sure but Kyle was fairly sure this place wherever it may be was largish. The current of the flowing cold air suggested a sense of space no small room could muster. Badly wanting to stand up he resisted the urge as unwise. Many a warrior had met their end because of rash movements in the darkness.

First thing was first though and that was finding out where on God's green earth he was. Perhaps this was simply a casualty collection point.Perhaps his HMHVEE had simply hit an IED,he certainly wouldn't be the first Marine injured in such a fashion. If that were the case they would have left his gear within arms reach of him.Kyle ever so cautiously and quietly inched both his arms around his reaching distance.Finding only more cold metal the scout sniper began to worry just the slightest bit. Could he have been captured by enemy forces. If that were the case how in the name of the Trinity did they find a cold metal box in the middle of the desert to stick him in. Hell even the fridges barely worked out here let alone the AC. Not to mention most terrorist were smart enough to tie up their prisoners,respecting what a fellow warrior could do even devoid of weapons.

Risking the slightest raising of his head he tried to force his eyes to gaze past the shadows. Gradual shades of lighter grey did little to help orient Kyle to his surroundings. Closing his eyes the Marine instead let his ears do the seeing. At first all there was the omnipresent flow of cold air with very little in the way of a sense of direction. Then a single shout cut through the air.

" Somebody!Anybody! Where am I!?"

The voice was tinged with what could only be a Hispanic accent,one the scout sniper was familiar with from the years he spent in the Corp. Deciding that calming the owner of the voice was worth the risk of revealing his position Kyle replied.

" Corporeal Kyle United States Marine Corp reporting Sir." He hoped that would be enough for now as he silently made his way over to the source of the shout at right angles so as to lower the risk of being shot.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone

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*Post archived. See OOC*

The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to The Onyx

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors

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Fritswick could easily showcase his intelligence by rattling off facts about great historical events, or by solving simultaneous equations without use of an abacus.
The greatest part of his wisdom, however, was his ability to deduce the specifics of a particular situation without fully understanding what was happening. It had happened before; back when he had worked for the Professor, he had been able to judge from a distance the name, title and intentions of a visitor simply from the type of coat he had worn.
Here, Fritswick took in everything he could - the room, the strange contraptions, and of course the woman - brought him to two conclusions.
Firstly, based off the fact that the technology was entirely new to him, coupled with the accent of the woman and the silent, low-pitched rumbling that emanated from somewhere a few rooms away, led to the conclusion that he was on some sort of ironclad - a steam-driven iron plated warship. This option would only make sense if he had somehow been captured with the intent to make him fight in the civil war the Americans were currently having.
Secondly - and, while probably untrue, should still be considered - he was in Hell. The first indicator was the burning he had experienced while being dragged into this place; the second was the strange light that somehow healed him - for surely, this could be a way of keeping man alive while he endured endless torment.
Considering the woman had driven something like nail into a spot below his right ear, he felt as if he was obliged to lean towards the second option more.
At this point, Fritswick realised he had forgotten to respond to the question of the woman, who had been messing with something during the silence.
"Can you hear me?" she asked.
Fritswick felt that his most pressing question should be asked first.
"Am I in hell?"
Mid-sentence an air bubble caught on his throat, making his words seem more shaky than he wanted to seem.
"No, far from it." the woman replied. "Could you please tell me who you are?"
"Fritswick," he said, "James Fritswick. "Th-ah-call me 'Mister', please."
Fritswick found himself horribly out of breath. The woman did something he couldn't quite see, but whatever it was produced a lot of clicking noises in rapid succession.
"Mr Fritswick," she said, not turning back to him. "Could you explain how you came aboard?"
Of course he was on a ship - he almost felt ashamed for thinking otherwise.
"I don't know," he said. "I was just asleep in my garden, I felt like I was dragged through hell itself, and here I am! I would've expected you Americans to keep better track of whom you throw onboard before setting off."
"Americans?" the woman replied, confused slightly.
"Yes, I know you're an American - I've heard similar accents before. I'll have you know, I won't stand to be taken across the Atlantic-"
"Sir, please!" she said, raising her hands slowly. "Calm down, your body isn't ready for stress at the moment."

Fritswick - slightly appalled at a woman having told him to quieten down - took a deep breath, and let it out, managing to stave off his nerves for another minute.
"Alright, I'm calmed," he continued. "Can you please explain to me why, save for my lower skivvies, I seem to be in a state of undress?"
"Well for one the regenerator needs direct skin contact," she said, looking up at the source of the strange beam of light. "But aside from that you were found this way. What ever garments you think you might have been wearing are most likely gone. Even if you had them they would have most certainly been damaged beyond repair in the coolant reservoir."
Fritswick was confused by two things; the few words he didn't understand, and the woman that was saying these things.
"You seem to know your way around a dictionary," Fritswick commented. "I barely understood that sentence."
"It's my job," the woman said with a shrug. "Though, don't tell me you don't know what I'm talking about."
Fritswick looked at her for a moment in silence.
"I actually do not," he said. "Your words are strange to me. You are a scientist, I presume?"
The woman looked at him strangely, turning away from him slowly.
"Doctor, actually. Although my job does involve me applying the scientific process."
"Tell me, how did you get into this job?"
"I studied, like everyone else."
The woman began to repeat the action that produced many clicks, back now turned to Fritswick.
"They let women do that in America? My word... not that that's a bad thing, but to be fully honest some people I know would be appalled at the sight of a woman doctor."
"Uh-huh," the woman continued. "Sorry for asking but, what year do you think it is?"
Fritswick opened his mouth, but froze before he could speak, making sure he understood the question.
"Eighteen-eighty and seven, the year of our lord."
"I see," she muttered, not showing her face to him.
"I must ask, what is your name?" Fritswick asked. "I can-not have myself calling you 'That American Woman' in my head."
"Sophie," she replied. "Sophie Victors. If you'll please excuse me a moment."

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul

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#, as written by Lemunde
Sophie reached for a small vial and collected a bead of sweat on Fritswick's chest. Just as she placed the vial in a device on a nearby counter a door near a corner of the room slid open, seemingly of it's own accord. A man walked in, clearly someone in charge.

"How's our patient?"

"Commander!" The commander's entrance seemed to catch Sophie a little off guard. "He's conscious, as you can see. I've just started the hydroanalysis. It should give us an idea of his origins in a few moments."

"I see." The commander walked over to stand beside Fritswick. "My name is Commander Asiros Viridin. You are on board the Onyx, a... military vessel."

Viridin began slowly pacing.

"You've come at a very inconvenient time. Our ship is engaged with a hostile force and your presence is interfering with our mission. If you are who I think you are then I must accept the possibility that you may be here to assist us in some manner. However I want to make one thing clear."

Viridin was looking directly at Fritswick now.

"Your mission, whatever it is, is secondary to ours. Right now my mind is focused solely on eliminating our enemy. We..."

"Commander!"

Fritswick looked over to see Sophie staring into what looked like some kind of illuminated picture frame, various strange text and graphs scattered across it.

"What is it, lieutenant?" Viridin turned to look at the same device.

"The hydroanalysis is complete." Sophie's voice had an air of surprise mixed with concern. "These hydrogen atoms... they show a decay of 0.985274." She placed a great emphasis on the '4'. "If my calculations are correct that would place him at...4000 years prior to Exodus!"

Viridin turned to Fritswick and studied him intently for several moments.

"Are you telling me this man was pulled from over 17000 years in the past?"

The room was silent for a long while, save for the strange chirping coming from various devices in the room. Viridin's eyes turned to Fritswick's arms and legs. "Has he shown you any indication that he might be dangerous?"

Sophie studied Fritswick for only a moment before answering. "He seems harmless enough."

"Go ahead and release him. Once he's able to move you have my permission to show him around the ship."

"I've taken care of his external burns but there is still some internal damage. He'll need to undergo nanotherapy for a couple of weeks before he's fully recovered. I'll give him something for the pain which should make him well enough to move around."

"Very good. Well 'Mister' Fritswick..."

Fritswick wasn't entirely sure how he knew his name but he had only a moment to contemplate this when the ship he was apparently on suddenly lurched. A disembodied voice called out from a device on the wall. The voice was that of a woman, somehow both cold and calm.

"Interstellar drive disengaging."

Viridin moved to the device on the wall and mashed his thumb on a nearby protrusion.

"Onyx, report!"

"A metallic object has been detected 300 kilometers from our position. I thought you would like to investigate."

Viridin glanced back at Fritswick. "Do you think this has something to do with our guest?"

"Lieutenant Victors has apparently confirmed him to be a conscript. The probability of encountering a man-made object this far into interstellar space is extremely low. Given the short amount of time between these events there is a high probability that they coincide."

Viridin hesitated a moment before responding. "Understood. Inform bridge personnel that I will be there shortly."

Viridin left the room, the door sliding closed behind him.

Fritswick felt a prick in his shoulder. Looking over he saw Sophie removing what was clearly a syringe.

"This should help with the pain. And this..." Lifting his head, Sophie detached a device from the back of his neck, setting it on the counter. Strange that he hadn't noticed it before. "Should allow you to move." This last was said with a smile.

Fritswick sat up.

The setting changes from The Onyx to The Mayall Galaxy

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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Kyle Blackstone, Ramirez Remembered that name. He tried to put a face to it, remembering a young marksman.

He thought back and it hit him, Corporal Kyle Blackstone was once apart of his unit, later ending up apart of the same Force Recon team that saved his ass once. Ramirez recalled offering him a shot of whiskey afterwards, and Kyle was the only Marine he'd ever seen turn down a shot from him. It was a move that had at first offended and enraged him, but later when the angry Mexican has sobered up, Gave him a newfound respect for the marine.

He knew there were many marines who shared name and rank, the dark didn't help Ramirez differentiate the fellow marine either. Ramirez was in a position though he didn't care, he was naked, in the dark, and had no weapon. He didn't care if he owed this marine his life, it wouldn't matter if he had ended up dying here.

He opened his mouth to speak, then paranoia set in. Was this a trick? This was too coincidental. Were they trying to mess with Ramirez? Stranger things have already began happening, what if this was some way to drive him crazy. Ramirez pull his minds together, trying to push out all the paranoid thoughts just long enough to speak. He opened his mouth again, "sergeant Hektor Ramirez, United states Marines. Blackstone is that you Chico?"

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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Sergeant Hektor Ramirez, now was a name that reminded this jarhead that not so long ago he had been required to call himself the recruit. Five and half years ago Private Kyle Blackstone United States Marine Corp had reported for duty with mirror shined boots and a spotless uniform to match. His hopes and dreams soured by the stain on his record that was his older brother actions. Honestly he'd been surprised that they let him enlist. But this Apache wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth though perhaps he worked just a tad harder then most as if driven to have a spotless record by comparison. It had impressed his instructors or at the very least kept the worst of their mind fuck games away though the future MARSOC member always believed that his mind fuck was the most subtle. But it wasn't the memory of being in the same unit that would calm Ramirez down. No a couple of hundred men could most likely make the same claim and be just as swiftly rejected.

No what was needed here was something a little more powerful,something that'd prove beyond a shadow of doubt that Corporal Kyle Blackstone was who he said he was. A token of proof crafted of something more then the empty air of words. Problem was that the sniper was naked sitting in a air conditioned box with nothing but the empty air of words.

Racking his photographic memory he went over every memory of Ramirez that was stored within it. Thankfully a scout sniper had to have a good memory, lots of details and fancy math to remember after all. Then it suddenly dawned on him with all the force of a round fired from the M82A3. The memory of a time with his old Force Recon unit, and more importantly it's aftermath. One Ramirez likely never forgot, rage tends to solidify memories within one's head.

" I'll prove it's me Sir. ..Remember when I saved your ass from that troop of girl guides...should of just bought the damn cookies. Anyway after I pulled you lazy behind out of the fire some REM decides that I'm due a Navy Cross and gives it to me. There was a ceremony with cake and everything. By Saint Michael that was an ordeal and half." Kyle replied supplying the required answer as he slowly inched his way across the cold metal walls. His hands with fingers splayed were attempting to find a light source but so far had failed miserably. He could also hear a gentle hum above their heads and Kyle was sure if they stood atop each other the path to it would be found.

Right now though he was playing Marco Polo in the dark trying find a damn light switch. There had to be one after all this place had what could only side doors leading only God knows were. Though anywhere that had underwear and at least pants and shoes sounded like heaven right about now. The whole birthday suit was getting old especially with his former Sergeant not ten feet away in the same condition.

"There has to be a way out of this damn ice box after all they stuffed us in here like a side of beef." Kyle muttered in a rather annoyed tone as the futility of ever finding a light switch sunk in." My rifle for either some light or my night vision goggles!"The tall though slender native shouted as he pounded the wall he was leaning against with the palm of his left hand.

" And the good Lord said let there be light." The Marine added with an emphasis on the word light and a sigh on the rest.

The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to Unknown Location

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez Character Portrait: Lance corporal Kurt Palmer

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Ramirez thought back, then all of a sudden it hit him with the force of a shotgun. He closed his eyes and began a flashback, went back to Iraq. It was dark and warm outside, Ramirez curled in his hole trying to catch some sleep. Damn taji's why can't they just stick to a game plan? Some nights they stay active, harassing troops all night. Other nights, it was so quiet you could hear distant explosions miles down the road. The only problem is no one could tell when they would and wouldn't come out. They hadn't come out so far and Ramirez thought he could catch a few minutes of shuteye. Then the first explosion hit, Ramirez instinctively jumped out and glanced outside his hole. He looked over as another marine's foxhole was erupting in flames. Ramirez remember the black skinned body, barely recognizable as a human being. He remember him crawling out in agony, a corpsman rushing to his side, morphine in hand. Suddenly a hand touched Ramirez's shoulder, he turned to face his best friend Kurt Palmer, "sir we're pinned down, Taji's are on both sides and more waiting down the road." Ramirez blinked once, took a sip of whiskey, then handed the flask to Kurt, "take a drink, and calm the fuck down!" Ramirez peaked over the foxhole, staring at the figures in the distance. He gritted his teeth and turned back to Kurt, "Get to your team, close off the west parameter, also find Porter and tell him to get his lazy ass to the east parameter to help out the marines there and I want it done yesterday Chico."


The rest of the night it was fighting, early into the morning it was fighting. Ramirez had distinguished his marines, taking two casualties the whole night: Harris, a marine from Porter's fire team, and the poor sap who'd taken the mortar, who later turned out to be Ken Brose, an older marine who'd recently been transferred into Ramirez's platoon. But the fighting wasn't done yet, all his marines ended up pulling back into a defensive, they were all cut off from the rest of the battalion, and it looked like there would be more casualties.



Ramirez looked at Kurt, who shared a look. But instead of despair, it was a looked of hope. Ramirez took that to heart, "all right marines, I want every man that isn't dead on two legs up and unloading on those fucks!" Kurt handed him a radio, "it's the colonel sir!" Ramirez grabbed the radio, "Sir we are in the shit and we need a door to walk out of quick!" The colonels voice was calm and smooth, "we are aware of your situation son, we've managed to deploy a force recon unit in your area and they en route now. semper fi and be ready, we're going to pull you out of there soon."


The rest of the battle was hazy, all Ramirez remember was looking up at the force recon unit, all they'd sent was a fire team. A fire team, Ramirez was going to have to educate that colonel about the difference between a full unit and a lone fire team. But that fire team had done its job, they opened a hole in the Taji's offense and made their way to Ramirez's position. Ramirez remembered looking up and recognizing the face of the fire team leader. It was Blackstone, he'd actually done it. Ramirez remembered watching Blackstone leave his unit to go try for Force Recon, he remembered everyone doubting, laughing, and ridiculing him as he left. Now he was here, saving all their sorry asses Ramirez laughed to himself. His last thought was, this kid deserves a medal, and a drink.



Ramirez found himself back in the dark room, he shouted out to Blackstone, "It's good to hear your voice marine, don't lose your cool in here, I'm gonna need you if we're gonna get outta here. Oorah." He muttered to himself "oohrah" before beginning to think of an escape route.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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"Alright recruits we got a new mission today.A real choice assignment, we get to go flower picking. I've packed us sandwiches and iced tea,even got us some sweet cherry pie." Lt.Danek spoke with that ever present smile that was his defining feature. Called Jester by his fellow jarheads this section leader of Rouge Company was highly respected for both his actions and his humorous outlook on life.

The ever present sand and heat swirled around them as 1st section laughed with the response only Force Recon could.After all they had nothing to prove to anyone and could indulge in referring to each other as recruits. For every shaven head in the command tent of Rouge Company had survived their share of combat tours and had proven themselves in the forge of war. As proved by their presence here.

" Alright my damsels in distress the real reason we've gathered here today is that there is a distinct lack of knights in shining armour.So.it looks like we got to rescue our own fine behinds. The Guildmaster has gotten word from the street that there is a meeting of high level command personal to take place at a little known safehouse about two kilometers from the city limits of Falllugiah. Guildmaster wants us to recon this meeting out. Our mission is two fold, primarily we want to find out what,where,when,who,and why. Secondly we are to capture any and all personal and relevant intel so that Command can get a better picture of just what the fuck these jihad ticks are planning. We move out in an hour so grab your make up kits and tampons."

Arriving at the safehouse 1st section had met only token resistance and had rounded up every last person wearing a uniform or carrying a weapon. All and all it had been too easy in Kyle's mind,hell he hadn't even pulled the trigger on the rifle he was carrying. Then again Force Recon was a recon unit and blood wasn't the only way to get things done. A motto this believer in God wholeheartedly agreed with.

" Yes sir, I understand sir. Yeah I can spare a couple of guys we are all done here a skeleton guard will be enough to see our prisoners back to Questioner. Yes sir yesterday it is." Lt.Danek spoke taking to a superior over the radio."Blackstone front and centre Marine."

"Sir. "Kyle replied as he ran over to his CO as his name was called, his rifle slung on his back in it's soft carrying case.

" A Colonel just informed me we got a Marine unit taking heavy fire from a numerical superior force. We are talking mortar fire and heavy weapons. I want you to take Sanders, Ruiz, Davidson, and Richards and see what you can do about punching a hole to get them out of that clusterfuck you got me Corporal."

"Yes Sir. " Kyle replied with a salute before wheeling about to collect the aforementioned fellow Force Recon members. Twenty minutes later a chopper had landed and Kyle's fire team took off.If the thought that there was only five of them bothered them it didn't show. Force Recon was used to being outnumbered. And these five weren't chosen at random. This fire team had shown competence in the being outnumbered business above and beyond even the high standards of Force Recon.

The chopper touched down some thirty three minutes later just outside what was quite the raging battle."Well lets go kick some camel jockey ass boys. Sanders right, Ruiz left, Davidson and Richards take centre, I'll cover you.Move out and keep low."

That was all the direction these highly trained and experienced Marines need as they slowly made their way over. Carefully taking advantage of their position to the rear of the enemy they landed several unopposed kills before the Iraqi soldiers even knew they were there. Each pull of their triggers resulting in an Iraqi death it was not long till they had made a sizeable dent in the population of their enemies. Instead of the steady rush Kyle and his fire team charged across the no man's land separating Marine from Iraqi Military turning back so often to return fire and leave an other corpse behind them. His rifle dry Kyle switched to the H&K mp5 he preferred over a pistol.

In the end though devoid of his rifle or not Kyle was pleasantly surprised to realize it was his old Sergeant he was pulling out of the fire.He then remembered the jokes when a position in Force Recon was offered him, though he was like any true believer willing to turn the cheek.




The past they shared had obviously help Ramirez believe in who Kyle was and that was a good thing. Now if I could only find some damn pants and a light switch I'd be in business the Apache thought to himself with a small and tired sigh. The flow of air hadn't ceased in the least and that humming above his head was beginning to annoy him as the dark made it impossible to see exactly what it was. He just hoped it wasn't a hornets nest as he hated anything with a stinger.

" Oorah." Was the only reply he gave to Ramirez's words before he drummed lightly on the wall he was leaning against.

There had to be a way to open these damn side doors Kyle thought as he straightened from his leaning position and turned around to once more run hands that knew the exact trigger weight of a rifle along the walls . The jarhead felt a slightly recessed panel next to the side door he had been leaning against. Somewhat hesitant to push into it as he had no idea what would happen the MARSOC member reminded himself there was no reward without risk.

A moment later light of a dim variety bathed his immediate area and the Marine Corporal felt like dancing. The light revealed a grey and slightly chilled portion of a largely metal hallway before fading away.

" Oh no you don't, The Good Lord said let there be light." Kyle muttered to himself before pressing the panel again and having the same result. " Oh honestly what third world sweatshop did this messed up switch come from."

The setting changes from Unknown Location to The Mayall Galaxy

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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Ramirez laughed at his luck, he used the dim bit of light that Blackstone had managed to bring in the room to glance at their surroundings. He hoped to find some alternate route out of the hallway, was sick of feeling like a rat in a cage. Ramirez spied what looked like a vent located in the back corner of the room, high up on the wall, and angled to promote air flow into the hallway. Ramirez sighed in relief, clenching his fists and almost passing out from the joy he had to bottle up inside. Ramirez tapped the marine beside him's shoulder, "¡gracias a dios, I think I spotted a way out!"


Ramirez thought to himself, if this kid actually had the stones to handle a drink he deserved one. Ramirez corrected his arrogant thought, no.. this kid DOES have some stones, everything this Corporal has done since Fallujah takes some cojones to pull off. He thought about Kurt for a moment, he remembered how jealous he was of the Corporal after his boys pulled them out of that deathtrap. "Why did he get that opportunity? I could have done a hell of a lot better than that motarded shit bag." Ramirez laughed at the memory, a good marine, but he didn't have half the brains to hack it where Blackstone seems to have excelled.

Ramirez snapped back to the real world, this wasn't anytime for a walk down memory lane. His DI had beaten the marine corps way of life into the headstrong Ramirez a lot harder than the rest of the recruits. It was a forced hand that made him a better marine in the field, he became a cold, calculated killer when he needed to be. He became a confident leader, and he also discovered a talent for noticing the small things in the field, a talent which saved lives and ended them all together.

Ramirez began to feel his way along the wall, trying to judge where he was as opposed to where he'd spotted the air duct. It had to lead to somewhere that was outside this hallway, it had to be a way for Ramirez. The short walk down the long hallway felt as the every step was another eternity Ramirez had been caught up in this place, he was going nuts. He'd survived Parris Island, two tours of Iraq, a Tour of Afghanistan, a four year marriage and a lengthy divorce only to lose his mind in a dark hallway as naked as the day he was born. The absences of cool air from the vent began to frustrate Ramirez, he knew he'd seen an air duct, or had he? Maybe it had been a mirage, maybe Blackstone was a figment of his own imagination. Maybe Ramirez himself wasn't even here. What if he was strapped into a straight jacket in West Texas Mental. He'd watched plenty of Veterans shipped there, not being able to handle civvies' life in the real world. Ramirez began doubting his own sanity, then suddenly, His bare skin felt the cold air blowing through the metal grating. Ramirez stood under the grating, thought to himself, all I need is a couple of these tables, a lift from Kyle, and they'd be good to go.


"Hey Kyle! I found it, I need you to give me a hand, and we can get out of here chico!" He bowed his head, even still doubting his sanity, "Dios permitió que esto sea real"

The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to The Onyx

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul

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Fritswick delicately placed both feet firmly on the floor; though he had strength in both legs, he could not feel anything in them - from the temperature of the air, it was clear that this was a good thing, as it prevented his toes from freezing.
"So, Mr Fritswick," began Sophie. "Would you care for a new set of clothes?"
Sophie pulled out a drawer at the far end of the room; inside were three vacuum packed unisex clothes, each item of clothing embroidered with a small 'recycled materials' logo.
Sophie handed Fritswick a set of clothes, and walked to a corner of the room; she drew a curtain attached to a rail in the ceiling.
"If you wanted get changed behind here, that'd be fine," she said. "The set comes with a vest and underwear, so..."
Fritswick, speechless from contemplation, nodded simply and walked over to the curtain concealed corner.
"Thank you kindly," he said, finding the opening clip to the plastic bag.
Sophie pulled the curtains over completely as Fritswick began changing.
"So," she began, back turned to the portieres. "Tell me about where you're from."
"Could you give me a minute while I get changed?"
"Just trying to break the ice, sir."
"Sir? I'm not a Sir, I've never been knighted - as far as I can tell."
Sophie exhaled a sharp sigh.
She walked over to her desk, pressing a few buttons to log herself back in.
Following that, she opened the file that the Onyx's AI had automatically generated - one listing the known physical details of Fritswick.
"Can you tell me your age, Fritswick?"
"Is that necessary to - urg - to know?" he replied, struggling with something halfway through.
"I need to write down everything you can tell us, because you'll be staying with us for a while."
"Thirty seven, if you must know. Born in eighteen-fifty two."
"Eighteen hundreds, huh..." Sophie muttered to herself, doing a quick calculation with her fingers. "Pre exodus makes that... right."
"What happened to my evening wear?" asked Fritswick. "Is it being washed, sewn up, or what?"
"Well, what little was left of them is probably part of the recycling system by now," she replied. "They were pretty burnt up when we found you - speaking of which, were you carrying anything metal in your pockets?"
"My watches - two of them, in fact."
"Ah, sorry then, both of them melted before arrival. Anyway, as part of our ship's regulations on material conservation, all damaged or unusable items are taken apart and used as something else. In fact, the replacement for what you're wearing is probably being made right now."

Fritswick drew the curtains back sharply. He was now dressed in a plain, silvery-blue work outfit with two logos - the recycling logo on the front, and an Onyx production code on the back.
"You look dashing, Mister Fritswick." Sophie said with a complacent grin. "Do you feel healthy?"
Fritswick made a deliberate frown on his face, trying to convey his disappointment.
"I feel frustrated that my clothes and timekeepers have apparently been dismantled and re-used, but otherwise, yes I am quite well."
"How's your limp?"
"My... well, how strange, I don't actually feel crooked anymore."
"That's temporary, I'm afraid." Sophie elaborated. "The regenerator picked up on it; it isn't a physical issue, more of a psychological one, so once the pain killers wear off, it'll come back again. Do you normally have a walking implement?"
"A cane, yes - it was wooden, so I assume none of it came through hell's blaze?"
"Ah - no, we didn't find anything like that. Give me a second."
Sophie began rummaging through the cupboards next to her desk; eventually, she found a retractable metal cane, and unfolded it before Fritswick.
"This should do for when you need it," she said. "You can retract it for easier storage."
Fritswick took the metal cane carefully; he tapped it against the floor a few times, getting used to leaning his weight on it.
"Thank you, lady Victors."
Sophie made a noise mixed between a cough and a chortle.
"Just call me Sophie, you don't need to be that formal to anyone except Commander Viridin."
"I see," he replied. "Tell me, what exactly is he Commander of? I assume this is a ship, so, where are we sailing?"
Sophie contemplated for a moment.
"I see; you're used to 'ships' being water-runners only..."
She began wandering towards the far side of the room. At the wall opposite the door was what appeared to be a metal hatch, firmly secured by a mechanical lock. Sophie pressed a small button next to the hatch.
"Requesting permission to open Med-Bay Port-side observation hatch."
There was a few seconds of delay, before the calming voice of the ship replied "Permission granted."

With a mechanical clunk, the fastening bolt of the hatch retracted; following this, the panel itself retracted into the wall, revealing a thick chunk of reinforced glass, beyond which was apparently nothing but darkness.
"Lowering solar shield for Med-Bay observation window." the voice added.
Seconds later, the darkness was replaced by an indescribable light; Sophie motioned for Fritswick to get a closer view.
Fritswick felt his legs go weak as he took in the view; stars in every observable direction, no land or sky to obscure their view. Ripples of cosmic energy fluttered in and out of view as the ship travelled at low-warp speeds, distorting space by miniscule, yet still barely comprehensible amounts.
"We... are sailing through space."
"Yeah."
Fritswick took a few steps back."
"This is... a work of fiction, surely. I... I must have fallen asleep reading something..."
"I can assure you, Mr Fritswick, this is no fantasy. Seal the Med-Bay observation window."
"Med-Bay observation window, sealed."
"These words, this place..." Fritswick muttered to himself.
"Are you alright?" said Sophie, her face growing with concern. "You might want to sit down."
"I'll be fine," he said, regaining his balance with his cane. "I... I just don't quite understand why I'm here."
Sophie sighed, her disappointment now visible.
"A shame that you don't know, because we don't really know. Does the term 'Temporal Conscript' mean anything to you?"
Fritswick shook his head.
"I feel like I should sit down for this explanation," he said, making his way to a nearby stool.
"Alright," Sophie began, twisting her fingers together. "I'm not sure how much you know in your era... do you understand time?"
Fritswick looked at her blankly.
"I mentioned having two watches. I have- rather I had, twelve watches in total, and spent hours of my time getting them into exact synchronous. Of course I understand time, my lady, and how it works forwards and backwards and all sorts - why, I remember having this theory explained to me about travelling through time itself, how the present might not be the only present."
Sophie blinked twice, slightly dumbstruck.
"I-alright-okay then. You have a grasp of time travel already, that's-that helps a lot."
Sophie cleared her throat, regaining her composure.
"While it isn't exactly an every-day occurrence, by this point in time we are aware of an organisation known at the 'Temporal Guild'. I'm not sure why myself, but on occasion they have taken people out of history in order to resolve a situation. These situations are... vastly different, and often kept secret, but we do know they happen."
"I see," nodded Fritswick. "And, for some reason, they have called upon me to assist them?"
"Indeed," said Sophie. "And, apparently, our ship as well - they must have a purpose for us if they went out of their way to bring you to us."
Fritswick nodded in continual understanding.
"I can follow what you say," he said. "Though this place - rather, this time - frightens me, I can say that I know almost as much about the situation as you do now."
"Indeed," said Sophie. "Though, I have to ask something important; do you know what a Computer is?"
Fritswick thought for a moment, then nodded.
"Yes, I do; I have had two computers myself."
"Really?" said Sophie, slightly taken aback.
"Indeed," continued Fritswick. "Both of them were excellent at what they did - I needed them to handle the complicated side of business matters, you see. The first was John - he was a bit of a grump, to be honest - and the second, whom should still be hired by me, is named Austin - "
"Hang on, hang on," Sophie fumbled, waving her hands. "You think computer means... a person who does calculations?"
"Indeed - why, what else could it mean?"
Sophie felt her whole body go stiff. After a few moments of panic, she let herself relax.
"Alright," she said. "I was right then; from your perspective, computers are nowhere near close to being invented yet, so I'm not allowed to tell you a lot."
Sophie walked over, and then pointed at, her computer setup at her desk.
"This is a computer; it does many things, all of them at a much faster rate than a human."
Sophie lowered her hand.
"That's basically all I can tell you; I'm not allowed to let you see any internal components, and I can't let you use one unless absolutely necessary."
Fritswick finally seemed to be confused.
"I must admit, I am confused by what you're trying to tell me," he said. "If you want me to avoid your metal Computers, I shall."
"Alright, thanks, just had to clear that up," Sophie said. "Your time period was so long ago, I just needed to establish what technology level you're currently at."
Fritswick stood up slowly, using his cane properly now that the pain killing medicine was wearing off.
"I have a question of my own." Fritswick said, a look of absolute importance on his face.
"Alright, go ahead." said Sophie, readying her best speech about preserving the timeline.
"Could you perhaps point me in the direction of the lavatory?"
"I- oh." said Sophie, physically deflating at her lack of opportunity. "I can lead you to it."

The setting changes from The Onyx to The Mayall Galaxy

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick

0.00 INK


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick

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The setting changes from The Mayall Galaxy to Unknown Location

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

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The fleeting nature of the light was driving Kyle absolutely up the wall, he was used to it but on most night missions nvg or thermals were issued. This utter darkness was not exactly conductive to a rational thought process. Combined with the cold and somewhat reduced sense of weight this Marine was not entirely sure if this metallic prison was not a figment of his dreaming mind. Point one in that thesis was the gibberish written on the panel he kept hitting to restore the light. He was perhaps only middling linguist but the characters did not seem to be readily recognizable though the simple pictures seemed to indicate further capabilities could be gotten out of the switch.The second point in this thesis was that he was naked as a new born babe, a common theme in dreams. Though the presence of his former Sergeant threw a slight loop in his thought processes.

So engrossed was the sniper in the examination of both the switch and his thoughts he only acknowledged the tap on his shoulder with a nod and a muttered " Thank God indeed, his mercies know no bounds. " As Ramirez walked to the limits of what the light revealed.

As for Kyle he split his time between studying the simple pictures underneath the gibberish characters on the switch and creating fog pictures on a small window he happened to notice the second time he pushed the switch. The light was not bright enough to shine through and reveal the interior but the potential of something different then grey and bare walls was enough to spur him on. The jarhead looked closer on the panel in the moments of light his latest push had earned him. The panel was clearly divided into two sections slightly more recessed then the centre section he'd been hitting.

Kyle's emerging revelation was disturbed by the Sergeant's request for help and the Corporal felt a brief moment of annoyance with Ramirez that was quickly ignored. Such thoughts ill befitted not only a Christian but also a MARSOC member.

" Just a sec Sir I think I found a way to open this damn door I've been sitting in front of. "He answered,technically it could be constrained as disobedience but Kyle had heard the story of Ramirez's discharge. Though some habits died hard and having served in his unit this Apache had a hard time envisioning the Sergeant as anything but.

Turning back to panel the mission comes first attitude of MARSOC gave the Marine the necessary motivation to take the risk inherent in pushing unknown buttons. Tapping the panel's left half the sniper was rewarded with a silent hiss as the door slid open to reveal a darkened area roughly twenty square feet though the lack of light beyond what the panel shed made it hard to be sure.

" If your lucky one day the face of the enemy may appear in your scope. " He said with a crooked smile, a inside joke amongst scout snipers.

Rising to a standing position Kyle flashed Ramirez a thumbs up before creeping into the room's depths. His outstretched hands meet resistance about halfway. Running his hands along its contours the sniper came to the conclusion it was a crate of some kind of metal. Feeling for a latch or something similar his hands found another panel. Unable to make it out he decided it was worth the risk,after all what did they have to lose?A silent hiss later he was digging through the contents. Questing hands first found a cylinder of some kind. Tapping it against the crate the greatest gift of God bathed the area in front of him.

" Blessed Archangels in Heaven." He cried out in joy as the light showed no sign of disappearing..Aiming it at the crate he found more flashlights of a peculiar build like the one he held. In addition another welcome sight greeted his eyes."Get your ass in here Sir. "This added as he struggled into what appeared to be the NOMEX flight suits worn by fliers. More were stuffed into the crate though Kyle was far more interested in zipping up the front of his. It was a bit bulky on his leanly built frame though as if sized for larger individuals and curiously had multiple pockets affixed to the back.A rather odd place for extra storage but the Marine wasn't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors

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#, as written by Lemunde

The setting changes from Unknown Location to The Onyx

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul

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#, as written by Lemunde
"Commander on the bridge!"

The security officer stationed near the bridge entrance called out as Commander Viridin did indeed step onto the bridge.

"What have we got, Axton?"

The woman sat near the science station, her dark gray eyes dancing over the information that was spilling onto the large, flat terminal in front of her.

"It appears to be a class E cargo module. Scans indicate a breathable atmosphere. Thermal readings suggest possible biological activity."

A cargo module. The frown on Viridin's face betrayed his thoughts. There were very few reasons why one would install a life support system on a cargo module, fewer still that were legal. As the module rotated the flood lights that spilled onto it confirmed his suspicions. One of the outer doors was open.

This was a not uncommon sight on the outer reaches. Smugglers would often retrofit cargo modules with life support systems to haul slaves to black markets where they would be sold. Whenever a patrol turned to investigate, the smugglers would dump these modules to avoid incarceration leaving the occupants to fend for themselves.

Rather than face a slow death from dehydration, it was easy enough for the slaves to force the outer door to open plunging all of the occupants into space. The bodies were likely thousands of kilometers away by now, their size and the coldness of space rendering them undetectable.

But if scans were showing that people were still on board, how did they survive? The module was much too large to fit in The Onyx's cargo hold. They were going to have to do this the hard way.

"Lieutenant Ritaly," Viridin called, pressing the comms button on his chair. "There's a cargo module I need you to investigate. Assemble a team of marines. There may be people over there but we don't know who they are so be prepared for anything. Onyx will feed you the relevant information."

An immediate reply came over the comms. "Understood, sir!"

"Lieutenant Victors, have Mister Fritswick join us on the bridge when he's able. There's something he may want to see."

A moment later. "Yes sir, we're on our way."

The setting changes from The Onyx to Unknown Location

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone Character Portrait: Ramirez

0.00 INK

Ramirez turned toward Kyle's voice, he walked in to see Kyle dressed in a suit that looked like those he'd seen on flyboys back in Iraq. Then he realized, he could SEE Kyle, bathed in a refreshing light that gave joy to the heart and pain to the sensitive eyes. Then he realized that the Corporal had in a incidental way, ordered him into the room. Ramirez knew that was not intentional, but still the old marine's stubborn pride couldn't let it lie, "Remember Chico, I may not be an ACTIVE marine any more, but I'll never stop being a marine oohrah? Don't tell me to get my ass in somewhere." Ramirez tried to sound stern and serious, but he knew the corporal had good intentions. Plus he found some fucking clothes, Ramirez struggled to fit his large figure into the skin tight suit. He laughed to himself, "Hey Kyle, now I know why those flyboys have to be so skinny." Ramirez never did like any other branch of the military, with the occasional exception of army infantry. He'd seen too much to understand why anybody could be proud of sitting in a plane, flying over their own boys dying, occasionally being the ones killing them. It was the same stubborn pride that forced him to chastise the marine who just clothed him and found a flashlight. Ramirez couldn't help it, it was bred into him. Ramirez took another flashlight, slapped on it, then watched it flicker on. Suddenly Ramirez hear commotion out in the hallway, saw beams from flashlights, most likely mounted on rifles. Ramirez went into survival mode, slowly crouched down behind the crate, flashlight ready to bash a skull in, "Get down marine, sounds like we got a bit of company, and they damn sure don't look like they'll be happy if they find us with their gear."

The setting changes from Unknown Location to The Onyx

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul Character Portrait: Lieutenant Idel Ritaly

0.00 INK

Fritswick was led around the Onyx by both Sophie, and a man wearing bulky attire, carrying a box-shaped item with intricate detail - Fritswick could tell that this had to be some sort of weapon, perhaps a gun, making him a guard. The guard seemed to be more focused on Fritswick than Sophie, who seemed lost in her own thoughts.
Fritswick had just under a minute to contemplate what he could need to see now; perhaps someone else had followed him to this place and time? Or perhaps they had found an explanation as to why he was here. In either case, he found himself less occupied with the details of his situation, and more concerned about what would be required of him.
At this point they passed the threshold to the bridge, no door separating it from the corridor, only another guard that nodded in affirmation to the other one.
The bridge was smaller than Fritswick had anticipated; he had imagined something like the deck of a ship, dozens of workers scurrying to and fro between sides, either manning the sails or shovelling coal to power engines. He was surprised by the room being around the same size as his living room, the captain's chair and desk taking up the centre of the room.
The walls at either side were occupied by similar desks, most of them equipped with a similar 'computer' to the one in the med bay, displaying information Fritswick had no chance of comprehending.
Above the captain's desk was some sort of glass pane hanging from the ceiling - occasionally, words and phrases would jump on and off the glass, all of them labelling different aspects of an image on-screen of what appeared to be a big, black box.

"Lieutenant Victors," said Viridin, looking at Fritswick. "Anything else unusual about our POI?"
"None, sir; he really is just a man pulled out of his time." she replied.
"Mister Fritswick," he began. "Could you please tell me what you think of this?"
Viridin tapped on the black cube in the centre of the glass screen; the text disappeared, and the image became much larger. Slowly, the cube began to rotate, making its three dimensional detail more apparent.
After a moment of contemplation, in which he intensely glared at the image, Fritswick gave up.
"I'm afraid I could tell you nothing about it," he said. "I've never seen a box quite like that. What size is it?"
"Several metres in every direction," Viridin replied. "Around 25 cubic metres of space. It's a cargo module - a basic one, at that. Tell me this; what do you think would be inside this container, out here in dead space?"
"It would be hard to say," Fritswick replied. "Perhaps... gems? Illegally obtained gems, or perhaps currency, that they want kept hidden until it's safe?"
"An astute guess," Viridin replied. "However, we have determined that it has a self-contained life support system. In simple terms, people could be living inside there. Why would people be inside a storage container?"
Fritswick hesitated to answer.
"...Slaves? Or perhaps traitorous crew deserving of eternal isolation."
The commander hesitated for a moment before responding.
"You're an intelligent man, Fritswick. Are you sure you have no idea what's inside?"
"None, sir. Couldn't tell you anything, only guessing."

"Commander, incoming message from Lieutenant Ritaly." a communications officer said.
"Put it through."
The image of a soldier wearing a face-concealing helmet appeared on-screen.
"Commander, our shuttle is currently attempting to lock on to the container, but we cannot find an accessible port. Should we proceed with procedure Oh-Five-Oh?"
"Go ahead; access it through any means necessary, even if it means cutting into it. Any unusual readings?"
"I was about to mention that, sir; we're having trouble getting a fixed reading on whatever is inside - some part of the life support seems to be deliberately interfering with the scanners."
"Continue regardless; remember to treat it as a potential biohazard."
"Understood sir."
The communication channel disappeared from view. Viridin spoke to the screen above him.
"Onyx, prepare the decontamination gas for their return. Also, give me minute-by-minute updates on the shuttle's status, including all crew and life forms therein."
Viridin turned on the spot, facing Fritswick directly. Fritswick had been silently observing, working out internally what all of the strange terms meant.
"Fritswick, are you sure you don't know anything?"
"Like I said, I know nothing here."
"Sir," Sophie interjected. "Are you sure that the container is related to Mr Fritswick?"
Viridin seemed taken aback briefly - he became aware of his increasing lack of composure.
"They have to be," he stated. "If the Guild is involved, we can't assume anything is a coincidence."
"Commander," the man sitting at the science station said. "We're... getting an unusual reading from... within the ship."


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The Onyx

The Onyx by Lemunde

A star ship in the Dathidan Republic military.

Unknown Location

Unknown Location by Lemunde

Kyle and Ramirez awoke to find themselves in this mysterious place.

Earth

Earth by Lemunde

Birthplace of humanity. Conscripts are drawn from this location

The Fritswick Residence

The Fritswick Residence by Lemunde

Home of James Fritswick

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View All » Add Character » 9 Characters to follow in this universe

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin
Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick
Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone
Character Portrait: Ramirez
Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors
Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul
Character Portrait: Lance corporal Kurt Palmer

Newest

Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul
Onyx-Soul

The Onyx's internal AI

Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors
Lieutenant Sophie Victors

Ship's doctor aboard The Onyx

Character Portrait: Ramirez
Ramirez

You cant scare me. Im from mexico

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone
Kyle "Wraith" Blackstone

I don't remember this being covered during Scout Sniper Course

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick
Sir James Fritswick

A 19th century business owner that attempts to appear more sophisticated than he knows he will ever be.

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin
Commander Viridin

Captain of the Onyx

Trending

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin
Commander Viridin

Captain of the Onyx

Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul
Onyx-Soul

The Onyx's internal AI

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick
Sir James Fritswick

A 19th century business owner that attempts to appear more sophisticated than he knows he will ever be.

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone
Kyle "Wraith" Blackstone

I don't remember this being covered during Scout Sniper Course

Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors
Lieutenant Sophie Victors

Ship's doctor aboard The Onyx

Character Portrait: Ramirez
Ramirez

You cant scare me. Im from mexico

Most Followed

Character Portrait: Kyle "Wraith"  Blackstone
Kyle "Wraith" Blackstone

I don't remember this being covered during Scout Sniper Course

Character Portrait: Commander Viridin
Commander Viridin

Captain of the Onyx

Character Portrait: Ramirez
Ramirez

You cant scare me. Im from mexico

Character Portrait: Onyx-Soul
Onyx-Soul

The Onyx's internal AI

Character Portrait: Sir James Fritswick
Sir James Fritswick

A 19th century business owner that attempts to appear more sophisticated than he knows he will ever be.

Character Portrait: Lieutenant Sophie Victors
Lieutenant Sophie Victors

Ship's doctor aboard The Onyx


View All » Places

The Onyx

The Onyx by Lemunde

A star ship in the Dathidan Republic military.

Unknown Location

Unknown Location by Lemunde

Kyle and Ramirez awoke to find themselves in this mysterious place.

Earth

Earth by Lemunde

Birthplace of humanity. Conscripts are drawn from this location

The Fritswick Residence

The Fritswick Residence by Lemunde

Home of James Fritswick

The Onyx

A star ship in the Dathidan Republic military.

Unknown Location

Kyle and Ramirez awoke to find themselves in this mysterious place.

Earth

Birthplace of humanity. Conscripts are drawn from this location

Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » Temporal Conscripts: Out of Character

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Most recent OOC posts in Temporal Conscripts

Re: Temporal Conscripts

That sucks, I was enjoying this RP. But while I was waiting to continue this one I created my own, are any of you gents interested?

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Did our fearless leader fly the coop?

Re: Temporal Conscripts

i agree with this consensus; Lemunde you need to get the story moving, we've spent enough time setting up, now's the time for you to get us all together and explain our mission

Re: Temporal Conscripts

I for one am waiting for some more detail i.e a post from the GM so I've got something to work with.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Lemunde it's been a while since anybody really posted save for screedle yesterday, It seems the RP has turned slightly stagnant from when we began.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

The crew is already somewhat aware that someone is probably inside the cargo module but they're not sure who or how many. The marines will be boarding the module soon so they'll be reporting back their findings.

Viridin had a discussion with Onyx earlier that makes him believe the presence of the cargo module and Fritswick is not a mere coincidence which is why he decided to stop and investigate in the first place.

The bridge is probably smaller than what you would expect. There's enough standing room for the commander and a couple of other people to move around comfortably. There's one helm station directly in front of the captain's chair and two stations on either side against the wall. One of these is the science station, noted by a rather large monitor. There's also a communications and weapons station. The last being navigation.

There's no actual door connecting the bridge to the hallway, just a security officer standing guard. The view screen isn't built into the wall. Instead it hangs as a single pane of glass from the ceiling in front of the helm.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Give me details about the bridge and I'll do my best to fill in the details.
How large is it? How many work stations, and crew per station? What sort of a view do they have of space and the object?
How are they dealing with the object, and what attitude would Viridin take towards both it and Fritswick's sudden presence?

And one more thing; should I end it with the bridge staff becoming aware Ramirez and Blackstone (eg, "Sir, we've picked up two more life readings within the life support room!")

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Yeah, I posted that in the wrong location so I had to move it.

Well it's kind of up to you. If Fritswick feels like being compliant he can follow Lt. Victors to the bridge. If he's still freaking out a little bit he might try to run off. If that sandwich he had last night didn't agree with him he could spend a few more minutes in the bathroom.

Being technically a civilian, Viridin isn't going to flat out order him to go to the bridge.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Alright so, are you supposed to have that blank post with Fritswick, or was it a mistake?
How should I respond to your activity; if you already know what to do, just ask me what to say for his reactions and you can post it.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Screedle wrote:
Lemunde wrote:The only thing I see is that the med bay is located in a more internal part of the ship so there's not really a place for a window, but I can just move the med bay in the map later to make that make more sense. It's not really a big deal.


Ah, I was perhaps assuming too much about the Onyx - I sort of had it in my head that the outline was the middle point of the ship, and that the floor the medbay is on would be above or below that slightly, hence allowing me to have a small window.
By small I mean 1 meter by 1 meter at most, and of course seeing as windows are technically a structural weakness, the distance between the inside and outside of the window would be at least a metre anyway. So, they're sort of looking out through a cube of glass. Im rambling a bit, I do that when I try to justify things.


Well that's assuming they use glass. I was thinking something along the lines of a transparent putty/gelatin substance that whenever it becomes damaged it reforms into it's original shape.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Lemunde wrote:The only thing I see is that the med bay is located in a more internal part of the ship so there's not really a place for a window, but I can just move the med bay in the map later to make that make more sense. It's not really a big deal.


Ah, I was perhaps assuming too much about the Onyx - I sort of had it in my head that the outline was the middle point of the ship, and that the floor the medbay is on would be above or below that slightly, hence allowing me to have a small window.
By small I mean 1 meter by 1 meter at most, and of course seeing as windows are technically a structural weakness, the distance between the inside and outside of the window would be at least a metre anyway. So, they're sort of looking out through a cube of glass. Im rambling a bit, I do that when I try to justify things.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Raykon23 wrote:I edited the post boss. It wasn't nothing to switch up a few words but if anything else catches your eye please let me know. also can I ask when our respective situations are going to be resolved and all of our characters are finally brought together? Im not trying to sound impatient, but im curious.


Probably sometime within my next two posts. My next one should at least somewhat reveal what's going on.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

The only thing I see is that the med bay is located in a more internal part of the ship so there's not really a place for a window, but I can just move the med bay in the map later to make that make more sense. It's not really a big deal.

Sophie as a scientist might be somewhat concerned about preserving the timeline but people in this era don't generally have the same attitude. From their perspective the guild is overtly interfering with people's lives so they're more like "They created this mess, they can fix any problems that come from it." Similarly, the military takes the stance that it's not their job to police the timeline. However it's still their nature to withhold information. Commander Viridin will be taking the cautious approach and only revealing what he feels Fritswick needs to know.

Of course pretty much everyone is in the dark as to what's going on at this point.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

I edited the post boss. It wasn't nothing to switch up a few words but if anything else catches your eye please let me know. also can I ask when our respective situations are going to be resolved and all of our characters are finally brought together? Im not trying to sound impatient, but im curious.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

I am very sorry; I didnt understand how the chat works so I accidentally made two posts consisting of me saying "so what" and "uh" respectively; i've emptied the contents but since there's apparently no way to delete them we're stuck with two empty reply boxes.

I'll try and use those for my next post I guess, although it'll be a little tough if im working off information in later posts. I'll have to make them simultaneous i guess

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Sorry that I havent posted, havent been feeling that great lately. Working on my latest post now.

EDIT: Posted, long one this time, so check over it so I can correct anything early (namely the space and science things they discuss, in case they contradict anything you had planned)

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Derek Smith wrote:Quick question Boss.The panels in Unknown location do they say Open/Close on them. And if so is it in English or some Alien language our characters have no idea to read?


They might have a little bit of alien writing on them but they also have symbols on the buttons themselves that make it easy enough to discern their purpose, that being to open and close the doors. There's similar panels on the other sides of the doors as well.

Also I did put in the description that the ceiling was three stories tall. You're character won't be able to reach it just by feeling around. With Kyle's help you might be able to stack some stuff up to be able to reach it but the hallway is currently empty so you'll need to pull some stuff out of the storage rooms to make that happen. You should edit your post to reflect this.

I don't really have a problem with you messing around with the life support or any connected ducts but the dimensions of this place is kind of important. Also as you get a closer look at the life support system you'll notice that it wasn't something that was built into the structure but rather something that was added on later. The ducts are separate tubes from the ceiling and with some extra light you'll be able to see that holes were cut into the walls for the ducts to go through into the other rooms and had the edges welded around them to seal them off.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

Quick question Boss.The panels in Unknown location do they say Open/Close on them. And if so is it in English or some Alien language our characters have no idea to read?

Re: Temporal Conscripts

I updated The Onyx location with a map. It's incomplete and I'll need to add some descriptions to what's there but it should give you an idea of some places you can go. For now just know that the armory, the turret control rooms and engineering are restricted areas and you'll need to get permission from a bridge officer before they will allow you onto the bridge but everywhere else you're free to visit.

And before you ask, yes, the arcpulse cannon is supposed to be that big.

Re: Temporal Conscripts

I added a new location called "Unknown Location". This is currently where Kyle and Ramirez are at. There's also a simple map there to help you better visualize your surroundings. Your situations haven't changed much since your last posts and I don't have anything happening for you guys just yet so you don't need to wait for me to make your next posts.

For Fritswick I forgot to mention that there's clothes in the medical closet in the form of simple jumpsuits that you can wear, along with some boots. Sophie should be able to inform you of this or get them for you, however you see fit to handle that.

One of the storage rooms in "Unknown Location" also has a metal crate with a variety of clothes in it as well so if you guys are tired of running around naked you could discover these. I'll throw in some futury looking flashlights in there too. There's also several crates scattered around the other rooms but you'll have to spend a good bit of time searching through them to find anything useful.

If you guys have any questions about a certain area or something else you just have to ask. I'll try to keep the information flowing in OOC and we can handle it in character as to how they come by this information.