Introduction
"Toooooooooweeet!"
A silver whistle's ear-piercing tooweet echoed through the cramped corridors of the metallic hull. Fifty recruits stood at attention in the briefing room. The room barely fit forty, and yet here fifty stood side by side facing their officials. Before them stood a dark, old looking man in a captains uniform, a young blonde haired man who appeared his first mate, and a brunette haired woman whos role wasn't quite clear - she wore no uniform and had no insignia. The recruits all saluted in unison, awaiting a speech from the captain. No speech came from the captain, first mate, or the woman, though, for the captain was scrutinizing the recruits before him. The captain's face was wrinkled, though none of the recruits could tell if it was from age or simply his facial muscles being contracted all the time from stress or displeasure for having to serve as the recruits captain. The captain's demeanor appeared to hint at the latter, which was almost immediately confirmed as the captain strode forward, less than a foot away from the first row of recruits. From left to right, the captain observed, spoke, and moved to the next.
"Gutter trash."
"Thief."
"Coward."
"Worthless."
"Dimwitted."
"Is this what passes as a fucking social dropout now? Are you REALLY worthy of being in exile? Or do they simply just find you so revolting, so unpleasant, that they give you that honor so they've an excuse to rid themselves of your presence?" His voice was loud. The interior of the ship amplified his voice considerably, making it powerful. So powerful, in fact, that he spat when he talked, and almost every recruit reacted to each and every syllable with disdain. To call them recruits was generous - they were indeed social dropouts, exilees, if you may, who were sent to the UFN Crucible for reformation. The Majesty was one of many ships of its kind - they accepted societies worst, and turned them into society's best.
"While you're aboard my ship, there'll be no stepping out of line. So much as think of drawing breath when told not to and you'll be shoved in the nearest airlock, and purged into the black abyss that awaits you all. I'm sure you all know that the Crucible, finest ship in the fleet of the United-Fucking-Navy's, patrol route takes us into hostile territory. You'll not do anything to undermine this vessel in any way, or you'll be shoved into the airlock, with the other degenerates, and purged into the black abyss together! First mate, I'll leave the recruits to you. Explain their role, and get them familiar with the ship. I've business to attend in the war room."
The blonde haired man stepped forward and saluted the captain, then turned to face the recruits. The captain saluted back and walked off, the brunette haired woman following.
"Recruits-" The first mate's voice was much more forgiving than the captains. It was soft, almost inviting. "As you all know, you're now a member of the United Federation Navy's finest Reformation ship, the Crucible. Here, we invite you, those others would turn their backs to, and refine you. You are slag - tough, gritty, but worthless to most. We see what lies within, the precious metal beneath the rocky outcrop. Our job is to throw you into the fire, to melt away the rock, to cast you and turn you to the steel that would defend the United Federation and all her allies."
The recruits didn't seem much interested in the first mate's speech, but the man paid no attention to the fact.
"First, you'll be familiarized with the ship." The first mate pulled a remote from one of his pockets and pointed it towards a large monitor on the wall infront of the recruits. A diagram of the ship appeared, comprised of three layers made of thin blue lines. "The ship's divided into three sections. The lower decks, which contain the cargo bays, prison wards, the engine room, and the majority of the heavy machinery. The upper decks, which you will work and live in, contain the necessities to feed, house, and train you. Above that, the bridge, off limits to all recruits. That is all you need to know to make your way around the ship. Should you have any questions, or require any help, you may at any time use your PDA to access the ship's knowledge-base, the ship's map, or contact an officer."
The fluorescent lights that illuminated the room dimly flickered and sputtered as a low "chugugugugu" reverberated through the ship, emanating from the engine room. It was a natural sound to any spacefarer. The first mate pointed his remote at the screen again, and brought up a list of naval regulations, before proceeding to list some informal ship regulations, and then the ship's standard code of morals.
"Second, you need to obey some rules here. If not for the sake of honor, and commitment to the UFN, do it to keep from pissing off our captain. Rule one: Don't piss off the captain. Rule two: Respect the chain of command. Rule three: If you're unsure about something, then don't do it. Rule four: Adhere to all naval laws and regulations. Stick to those four rules, and your time here should go smooth. We'll take a break for now and when you're all settled in, we'll begin your real orientation. Now go claim your beds and unpack your cargo. You'll find it waiting for you just outside the dorms."
The first mate gave his formalities, saluted the recruits, and walked off through the door that would take him to the stairwell that led to an area off limits to the recruits. The recruits looked at each other, then dispersed.
The Crucible
Stardate: 2350 A.D.
Location: System SV 416, 20 light-years from the Fringe
Vessel: UFN Crucible
The UFN Crucible stretches to a staggering 800 meters at its longest. It houses nearly two hundred, which might not seem like much, but it's quite cramped in its busiest areas. You are a marine aboard this vessel. No, that is wrong, you're not even a soldier. You're either an exile, a criminal, or an idiot for coming by choice if you're aboard a Reformation ship. The UFN, United Feredation's Navy, takes societies lowest, and transforms them into spacefaring naval marines. They take recruits along dangerous patrol routes into the fringe, space with no political claim, and keep the peace.
Reformation ships are dangerous. Recruits are unpredictable. Many have been completely destroyed, lost to revolutionaries. Many have been destroyed by pirates. Others... you don't want to know what happened to the others. You've heard the stories, told as a child about the horrors of space. Only idiots choose to spend their lives in space. You just so happen to be one of them, though, often you feel it wasn't a choice.
The environment of the ship is gritty, sometimes noisy sometimes quiet, and very industrial. Think of the Nostromo from the movie Alien. Technology isn't extremely advanced despite the year, not as far from civilization as you will be, at least. Non-human spacefaring life exists, though it's rare, and never to be trusted.
At least you can rely on your fellow recruits to have your back, right? Above all else, the United Federation has your back. Formed after the space exploration explosion of 2050, after the FTL breakthroughs, the United Federation has sought peace and orderly expansion through space. That didn't happen. Earth's population ten-billion strong expanded too fast for that. They divided into hundreds of factions, too many to list. The only one you need to worry about is the UF, because they're your only hope at redemption.
Character Applications
You don't have to use this, but this is the bare minimum necessary.
- Code: Select all
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Age(17+):[/b]
[b]Gender:[/b]
[b]Rank(Recruit, Officer, Veteran):[/b]
[b]Assignment onboard(Engineer, Tech, Soldier, etc):[/b]
[b]Physical appearance:[/b]
[b]Notable physical traits:[/b]
[b]Reason for enlisting:[/b]
Additional information can be found on the OOC thread, if you need it.
- 12 posts here • Page 1 of 1
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 4 authors
Setting
0.00 INK
A smirk creeped across Lucas' face slowly as he watched another group of recruits walk to their dorms. He took the cigarette from his lips and flicked the ash to the ground, then placed it back. "You think they'll last?" he asked an engineer next to him.
"Not a fuckin' week."
The air was cold, stiff, and smelled of sweat and smoke. It was unpleasant, but it was the norm, and Lucas was used to it. He was probably responsible for the majority of the stench anyway. Lucas had higher hopes for the recruits than the man he was smoking with. They didn't seem so bad - the last batch were all rapists and murderers. This batch didn't look like the sort; though, the years have taught him to fully comprehend that looks deceive. Regardless, something about them... It was different. They were livelier than the normal crowds.
In truth, Lucas was one of only a few veterans. He'd been on the very first intake the Crucible had. The very first, they called themselves, the original crew. The veterans all held their rotations with pride. Another year, another rotation, and Lucas was coming up on his and the Crucible's 17th rotation. How long's he been doing this? How old is he? He didn't know anymore. He didn't care. His 17 shifts had taught him to pick out the good from the bad, though, and this shift seemed mostly good. They were keepers. He was sure of it.
The lights dimmed and the familiar "chugugugugugu" reverberated again, followed by a long low frequency hum as the lights returned. Lucas couldn't help but let out a snicker as the recruits reacted, not knowing what the sound is. It's familiar to anyone who spends their days on a large space-faring vessel, the reactors have to discharge occasionally, but these recruits obviously haven't spent time in space. "You're right, not a fuckin week," Lucas added before stomping out his cigarette. The janitors didn't care if he left it lying around, the ships in the UFN weren't known for their cleanliness.
"Bet we get boarded, right? We'll be out in the fringe, yeah, and some pirates'll roll up and bust in through the airlocks. See the'll have a bunch'a them miniguns and they'll take the recruits as slaves," the engineer Lucas was smoking with began. "They'll take 'em back to some colony and we'll be forced to go on our way and tell the UFN what happens when we venture so far into the fringe, yeah? Bet that's what'll happen this time. Then the vets'll come in and save the day!"
"Man shut up," Lucas retorted. "The Crucible's never been boarded, not on past rotations, not on this one. Besides, I aint a hero, and neither are you. We just fix pipes 'n shit when they break," Lucas coughed and leaned against a pipe on the wall. "We break half of 'em anyway by standing around leaning on them all day, after all," he let out with a sigh as the faces of recruits blurred by.
"Not a fuckin' week."
The air was cold, stiff, and smelled of sweat and smoke. It was unpleasant, but it was the norm, and Lucas was used to it. He was probably responsible for the majority of the stench anyway. Lucas had higher hopes for the recruits than the man he was smoking with. They didn't seem so bad - the last batch were all rapists and murderers. This batch didn't look like the sort; though, the years have taught him to fully comprehend that looks deceive. Regardless, something about them... It was different. They were livelier than the normal crowds.
In truth, Lucas was one of only a few veterans. He'd been on the very first intake the Crucible had. The very first, they called themselves, the original crew. The veterans all held their rotations with pride. Another year, another rotation, and Lucas was coming up on his and the Crucible's 17th rotation. How long's he been doing this? How old is he? He didn't know anymore. He didn't care. His 17 shifts had taught him to pick out the good from the bad, though, and this shift seemed mostly good. They were keepers. He was sure of it.
The lights dimmed and the familiar "chugugugugugu" reverberated again, followed by a long low frequency hum as the lights returned. Lucas couldn't help but let out a snicker as the recruits reacted, not knowing what the sound is. It's familiar to anyone who spends their days on a large space-faring vessel, the reactors have to discharge occasionally, but these recruits obviously haven't spent time in space. "You're right, not a fuckin week," Lucas added before stomping out his cigarette. The janitors didn't care if he left it lying around, the ships in the UFN weren't known for their cleanliness.
"Bet we get boarded, right? We'll be out in the fringe, yeah, and some pirates'll roll up and bust in through the airlocks. See the'll have a bunch'a them miniguns and they'll take the recruits as slaves," the engineer Lucas was smoking with began. "They'll take 'em back to some colony and we'll be forced to go on our way and tell the UFN what happens when we venture so far into the fringe, yeah? Bet that's what'll happen this time. Then the vets'll come in and save the day!"
"Man shut up," Lucas retorted. "The Crucible's never been boarded, not on past rotations, not on this one. Besides, I aint a hero, and neither are you. We just fix pipes 'n shit when they break," Lucas coughed and leaned against a pipe on the wall. "We break half of 'em anyway by standing around leaning on them all day, after all," he let out with a sigh as the faces of recruits blurred by.
Setting
0.00 INK
Enzo looked on at all the frightened and fresh faced recruits. He could tell they had never been in space before and knew they all had their work cut out for them. He was different though. Enzo was a space baby. He was no stranger to space or space ships. In fact, he had an inkling he could probably give any of the vets a run for their money up here. This was his home turf after all.
"Get out of my fuck'n way, space meat!"
A large imposing brute of a recruit looks to barrel Enzo over. Even being way out here, these recruits still managed to find a way to act tough. Too bad that what the brute doesn't know is that gravity on the ship isn't perfectly preset to Earth standard. It's nearly impossible to get that level of precision with artificial gravity generators, which is why space dwellers preferred the manually rotating method over the power sucking, and often malfunctioning, grav-gens that the UFN were so keen to use.
The brute takes one forceful step towards Enzo, and Enzo easily sidesteps him. When he can't feel the full weight of his body stepping down on his foot, the brute goes barreling forward into a group of -- now pissed off -- delinquents. They jump him and begin to wail on the brute.
Enzo doesn't let the confrontation phase him. They're all rank amateurs and could go jump out of the airlock for all he cares. What he needs to find is some capable guys he can rely on.
He follows the crowd to the dorm rooms, passing by Lucas and the other fellow Engineer. They seem passibly capable--
"...we just fix pipes 'n shit when they break"
--scratch that. They're retards.
It looks like finding comrades he can trust will be harder than he thought.
"Get out of my fuck'n way, space meat!"
A large imposing brute of a recruit looks to barrel Enzo over. Even being way out here, these recruits still managed to find a way to act tough. Too bad that what the brute doesn't know is that gravity on the ship isn't perfectly preset to Earth standard. It's nearly impossible to get that level of precision with artificial gravity generators, which is why space dwellers preferred the manually rotating method over the power sucking, and often malfunctioning, grav-gens that the UFN were so keen to use.
The brute takes one forceful step towards Enzo, and Enzo easily sidesteps him. When he can't feel the full weight of his body stepping down on his foot, the brute goes barreling forward into a group of -- now pissed off -- delinquents. They jump him and begin to wail on the brute.
Enzo doesn't let the confrontation phase him. They're all rank amateurs and could go jump out of the airlock for all he cares. What he needs to find is some capable guys he can rely on.
He follows the crowd to the dorm rooms, passing by Lucas and the other fellow Engineer. They seem passibly capable--
"...we just fix pipes 'n shit when they break"
--scratch that. They're retards.
It looks like finding comrades he can trust will be harder than he thought.
Gwen follows the tightly-packed crowd as they slowly work their way to the dorms. A million different thoughts raced in her head, but she could do nothing but move along with the flow of not-so-fragrant bodies.
The brief orientation went more or less how she expected. The captain was rude and terrifying, while the first mate was overwhelmingly optimistic. She wondered if the captain was really true to his word about shoving people out the airlock. She figured that he probably was.
"Get out of my fuck'n way, space meat!" She heard a loud voice in front of her. She watched as a big, mean-looking recruit tried to push another man out of his way. The man sidestepped him, and the brute went tumbling into a group of other recruits, who proceeded to beat on him.
Gwen rolled her eyes in disgust and steered clear of them. What an intelligent bunch of losers she'd be stuck with for a whole year. Oh boy, what fun awaits. She wondered if she could find anybody above the level of sheer stupidity on this ship. She glanced around, but the prospects weren't great. Then her eyes fell on the man who sidestepped the brute. He didn't look like anything special, but she could tell he was thinking about something. At least that was a start. She figured he must have been in space for a while, not reacting to the sudden chugugugugu noise or the difference in gravity. Gradually she made her way up to him. "So what brings you to this festering Hellhole that's brimming with stench and idiocy?" No point in beating around the bush.
The brief orientation went more or less how she expected. The captain was rude and terrifying, while the first mate was overwhelmingly optimistic. She wondered if the captain was really true to his word about shoving people out the airlock. She figured that he probably was.
"Get out of my fuck'n way, space meat!" She heard a loud voice in front of her. She watched as a big, mean-looking recruit tried to push another man out of his way. The man sidestepped him, and the brute went tumbling into a group of other recruits, who proceeded to beat on him.
Gwen rolled her eyes in disgust and steered clear of them. What an intelligent bunch of losers she'd be stuck with for a whole year. Oh boy, what fun awaits. She wondered if she could find anybody above the level of sheer stupidity on this ship. She glanced around, but the prospects weren't great. Then her eyes fell on the man who sidestepped the brute. He didn't look like anything special, but she could tell he was thinking about something. At least that was a start. She figured he must have been in space for a while, not reacting to the sudden chugugugugu noise or the difference in gravity. Gradually she made her way up to him. "So what brings you to this festering Hellhole that's brimming with stench and idiocy?" No point in beating around the bush.
Setting
0.00 INK
"So what brings you to this festering Hellhole that's brimming with stench and idiocy?"
Enzo knew, even before he turned, that the girl behind him would be beautiful -- and she was. Her long brunette hair accentuated her beautiful face, almost impeccably so. Her slim figure showed some signs of malnutrition, but the tones of her muscles and having curves in all the right places hid it well. What was exceptionally striking to Enzo, was that this girl was clearly having an off day and she was still a solid 8. He can only imagine how great she'd look on a good day.
Of course, just because a girl's beautiful doesn't mean you let your guard down. Enzo was too familiar with dead men who fell to the wily tricks of a pretty gal. He didn't hold it against women, though. They were born in this 'verse at a massive disadvantage. They needed to do whatever it took to get the upper hand. That's just how life out in the void works.
"Got caught doing something I shouldn't have, I suppose." His curt response seemed to bother the girl -- whose name he still didn't know -- but he didn't care. He wasn't going to get any more in-depth than that. Information could always be used against you.
"So, did you need something from me? Unless you're looking to get laid, I doubt I can be much help to you." It was his turn to do some digging.
Enzo knew, even before he turned, that the girl behind him would be beautiful -- and she was. Her long brunette hair accentuated her beautiful face, almost impeccably so. Her slim figure showed some signs of malnutrition, but the tones of her muscles and having curves in all the right places hid it well. What was exceptionally striking to Enzo, was that this girl was clearly having an off day and she was still a solid 8. He can only imagine how great she'd look on a good day.
Of course, just because a girl's beautiful doesn't mean you let your guard down. Enzo was too familiar with dead men who fell to the wily tricks of a pretty gal. He didn't hold it against women, though. They were born in this 'verse at a massive disadvantage. They needed to do whatever it took to get the upper hand. That's just how life out in the void works.
"Got caught doing something I shouldn't have, I suppose." His curt response seemed to bother the girl -- whose name he still didn't know -- but he didn't care. He wasn't going to get any more in-depth than that. Information could always be used against you.
"So, did you need something from me? Unless you're looking to get laid, I doubt I can be much help to you." It was his turn to do some digging.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Got caught doing something I shouldn't have, I suppose.", he replied.
Gwen raised an eyebrow at his reply, clearly annoyed by the lack of information he gave. "The same could probably be said for every man on this forsaken vessel. But I guess I understand. A man's crime is his own, and his own to keep or display. No matter." Even though her words would suggest that she had dropped the question, she was still upset that he had not told her outright. She was now severely interested in what secrets this space-man possessed. He didn't seem too threatening, but she knew also that looks could be deceiving. And while she herself was a 'criminal', she yearned to know what it was that also gave him this title.
"So, did you need something from me? Unless you're looking to get laid, I doubt I can be much help to you.", he then said. Normally, a vulgar comment like this would have made her feel angry or offended, but right now was not a good day and she didn't have the effort to deal with that shit. So instead she reverted to sarcasm. "You know? That is exactly what I was looking for! Being surrounded by rude, sweaty men and the smell of body odor and despair really turns me on. But, unfortunately, I find I'm all booked up. I'm flattered, really, but no." She then put all the sarcasm aside and went straight to the point.
"I was actually trying to find someone on this ship with a smidgen of intelligence or decency, but apparently I was mistaken in looking here. Like most men, I see that most of the thinking is done below the belt instead of in your brain."
Gwen raised an eyebrow at his reply, clearly annoyed by the lack of information he gave. "The same could probably be said for every man on this forsaken vessel. But I guess I understand. A man's crime is his own, and his own to keep or display. No matter." Even though her words would suggest that she had dropped the question, she was still upset that he had not told her outright. She was now severely interested in what secrets this space-man possessed. He didn't seem too threatening, but she knew also that looks could be deceiving. And while she herself was a 'criminal', she yearned to know what it was that also gave him this title.
"So, did you need something from me? Unless you're looking to get laid, I doubt I can be much help to you.", he then said. Normally, a vulgar comment like this would have made her feel angry or offended, but right now was not a good day and she didn't have the effort to deal with that shit. So instead she reverted to sarcasm. "You know? That is exactly what I was looking for! Being surrounded by rude, sweaty men and the smell of body odor and despair really turns me on. But, unfortunately, I find I'm all booked up. I'm flattered, really, but no." She then put all the sarcasm aside and went straight to the point.
"I was actually trying to find someone on this ship with a smidgen of intelligence or decency, but apparently I was mistaken in looking here. Like most men, I see that most of the thinking is done below the belt instead of in your brain."
Setting
0.00 INK
Lucas observed in silence as recruits fought, argued, pushed and shoved and conversed. The usual rabble, violent and stupid, but what could he do? No point in bothering, no point in caring - he was just an observer, and intended to stay as one. He brought a new cigarette to his lips and lit it, as his last had went out, then drew a large breath of smoke in. "You think they'll shit themselves when they see their first xeno?" he inquired to the engineer he stood with. The engineers name was unimportant, he may as well have been one of the faces blurring by for all Lucas cared.
"Bet so. Bet they think they're like us, too. Human like, arms and legs and two eyes - fuckin' naive children man. You gotta be naive or stupid to get yourself on a reformation ship. No offence, man - you volunteered, ey?"
"Yeah. Volunteered. Nice way to put it when your family gets murdered and your inheritance destroyed."
"I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't, man. Chill. I'm just messin'," Lucas inhaled and exhaled another large puff of smoke. It was quickly sucked up into the ventilation ducts. Lucas continued, "Bet they'll see some five legged bugger and run for the shuttle soon's we get deployed to some planet to scope it out."
The man next to him chuckled, and nodded, then spoke "Check out the lover's quarrel over there," before pointing to Enzo and Gwen. Lucas looked over, then smirked. "Guy looks pretty comfortable here. Looks like he'll fit in. Don't know about the girl, though."
"Bet so. Bet they think they're like us, too. Human like, arms and legs and two eyes - fuckin' naive children man. You gotta be naive or stupid to get yourself on a reformation ship. No offence, man - you volunteered, ey?"
"Yeah. Volunteered. Nice way to put it when your family gets murdered and your inheritance destroyed."
"I didn't mean-"
"I know you didn't, man. Chill. I'm just messin'," Lucas inhaled and exhaled another large puff of smoke. It was quickly sucked up into the ventilation ducts. Lucas continued, "Bet they'll see some five legged bugger and run for the shuttle soon's we get deployed to some planet to scope it out."
The man next to him chuckled, and nodded, then spoke "Check out the lover's quarrel over there," before pointing to Enzo and Gwen. Lucas looked over, then smirked. "Guy looks pretty comfortable here. Looks like he'll fit in. Don't know about the girl, though."
"I was actually trying to find someone on this ship with a smidgen of intelligence or decency, but apparently I was mistaken in looking here. Like most men, I see that most of the thinking is done below the belt instead of in your brain."
Enzo looked the girl over. To most observers, it would look like he was checking her out, but he was just reassessing her worth. A girl who knew the worth of having companions on this ship, and more than that, knew enough to approach him out of this rabble had enough intuition and smarts to possibly make it out of this journey alive -- which means she could prove useful to him.
The girl was no longer just a pretty face to Enzo, she was a potential asset.
"Okay, I'll bite. So what? You lookin' to team up or somethin'? I know what value I add, but what about you? How do you help me? I mean, beside being a pretty face." If she wanted to get straight to the point, he wasn't going to beat around the bush either.
As Enzo waited for an answer from the girl, he noticed two pairs of unwanted eyes on his back. The two engineers from earlier were watching him with increased interest.
Perhaps it was the way they stared at him, like he was a trapped animal at a zoo and they were the spectators, but Enzo didn't like it one bit. It pissed him the fuck off.
Making direct eye contact with Lucas, Enzo did the dumbest thing he could have done at the moment, shout out across to his superiors.
"Hey, shit heads, don't you have 'pipes n shit' to fix? If you guys are truly vets here, why don't you go make yourselves useful and scram."
Enzo wasn't sure what the consequences of disrespecting your superiors was here, but he knew on his former ship, shit like that would get him thrown out the airlock. He let his emotions slip. A mistake. A big one. He hadn't thought being here had affected him so much, but clearly he was just as sleep deprived, agitated, and anxious as everyone else.
He couldn't take back his words, though, and damn it if he were to die lying down like a dog. He was all in on his insubordination. All he could do now was hope for a miracle.
Enzo looked the girl over. To most observers, it would look like he was checking her out, but he was just reassessing her worth. A girl who knew the worth of having companions on this ship, and more than that, knew enough to approach him out of this rabble had enough intuition and smarts to possibly make it out of this journey alive -- which means she could prove useful to him.
The girl was no longer just a pretty face to Enzo, she was a potential asset.
"Okay, I'll bite. So what? You lookin' to team up or somethin'? I know what value I add, but what about you? How do you help me? I mean, beside being a pretty face." If she wanted to get straight to the point, he wasn't going to beat around the bush either.
As Enzo waited for an answer from the girl, he noticed two pairs of unwanted eyes on his back. The two engineers from earlier were watching him with increased interest.
Perhaps it was the way they stared at him, like he was a trapped animal at a zoo and they were the spectators, but Enzo didn't like it one bit. It pissed him the fuck off.
Making direct eye contact with Lucas, Enzo did the dumbest thing he could have done at the moment, shout out across to his superiors.
"Hey, shit heads, don't you have 'pipes n shit' to fix? If you guys are truly vets here, why don't you go make yourselves useful and scram."
Enzo wasn't sure what the consequences of disrespecting your superiors was here, but he knew on his former ship, shit like that would get him thrown out the airlock. He let his emotions slip. A mistake. A big one. He hadn't thought being here had affected him so much, but clearly he was just as sleep deprived, agitated, and anxious as everyone else.
He couldn't take back his words, though, and damn it if he were to die lying down like a dog. He was all in on his insubordination. All he could do now was hope for a miracle.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Okay, I'll bite. So what? You lookin' to team up or somethin'? I know what value I add, but what about you? How do you help me? I mean, beside being a pretty face."
Gwen was a little taken aback by his response. She hadn't really expected him to take her seriously, and yet here he was. She knew that having someone around with experience like him would definitely be beneficial, but what could she give? He asked what her value was, and for the moment she didn't know what to say. What good was a pickpocket and a petty thief on a reformation ship? "Well, a pretty face surprisingly has many good uses. I'm smart, too. At least by the standards of this bunch. I'm... clever with my hands, I guess you could say. Also-" Before she could finish, the man turned around to two engineers that were apparently watching them and yelled out to them.
"Hey, shit heads, don't you have 'pipes n shit' to fix? If you guys are truly vets here, why don't you go make yourselves useful and scram.", he shouted across the room.
Gwen stared at him, slightly in shock. She hadn't even noticed the two men watching them, but apparently he had. She wasn't sure what punishment he could get, but she knew it probably wouldn't be pleasant.
"Well, for another thing, I don't do stupid and impulsive things like that. Especially not on the first day. Are you trying to dig yourself an early grave?", she asked him. Perhaps he was as dimwitted as she had thought. But then again, it was turning out to be a rough day, everyone was more irritated than usual. She looked around and waited to see what would unfold, and whether or not her possible comrade would be pushed out of an airlock. She hoped not, for he really didn't seem like too bad a guy, and would be especially handy in learning the ropes of space travel.
Gwen was a little taken aback by his response. She hadn't really expected him to take her seriously, and yet here he was. She knew that having someone around with experience like him would definitely be beneficial, but what could she give? He asked what her value was, and for the moment she didn't know what to say. What good was a pickpocket and a petty thief on a reformation ship? "Well, a pretty face surprisingly has many good uses. I'm smart, too. At least by the standards of this bunch. I'm... clever with my hands, I guess you could say. Also-" Before she could finish, the man turned around to two engineers that were apparently watching them and yelled out to them.
"Hey, shit heads, don't you have 'pipes n shit' to fix? If you guys are truly vets here, why don't you go make yourselves useful and scram.", he shouted across the room.
Gwen stared at him, slightly in shock. She hadn't even noticed the two men watching them, but apparently he had. She wasn't sure what punishment he could get, but she knew it probably wouldn't be pleasant.
"Well, for another thing, I don't do stupid and impulsive things like that. Especially not on the first day. Are you trying to dig yourself an early grave?", she asked him. Perhaps he was as dimwitted as she had thought. But then again, it was turning out to be a rough day, everyone was more irritated than usual. She looked around and waited to see what would unfold, and whether or not her possible comrade would be pushed out of an airlock. She hoped not, for he really didn't seem like too bad a guy, and would be especially handy in learning the ropes of space travel.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Hey, shit heads, don't you have 'pipes n shit' to fix? If you guys are truly vets here, why don't you go make yourselves useful and scram."
Lucas drew in the last bit of the cigarette, flicked it to the floor, and stomped it out. 'Yeah, these guys won't last a week,' he thought. He looked over at the engineer next to him and shook his head, signalling to let it go. The guy next to him was hot headed, but Lucas wasn't the fighting type, nor did he care. Chances were he'd only ever see these people in the mess hall.
He felt obliged, in a sense, to at least try and keep them out of trouble. Now that he was drawn in, at least. Lucas sighed, and shouted back calmly, "Hey, word of advice: Do yourself a favor and don't make enemies on the ship on your first day. You'll have enough people at your throats for shit you didn't do, don't make it more."
Regardless of whether or not the two of them had been shouting across the room, nobody was really paying attention. The new recruits in the room had still been either fighting, or conversing with equal amounts of vulgarity as Enzo had displayed.
Lucas drew in the last bit of the cigarette, flicked it to the floor, and stomped it out. 'Yeah, these guys won't last a week,' he thought. He looked over at the engineer next to him and shook his head, signalling to let it go. The guy next to him was hot headed, but Lucas wasn't the fighting type, nor did he care. Chances were he'd only ever see these people in the mess hall.
He felt obliged, in a sense, to at least try and keep them out of trouble. Now that he was drawn in, at least. Lucas sighed, and shouted back calmly, "Hey, word of advice: Do yourself a favor and don't make enemies on the ship on your first day. You'll have enough people at your throats for shit you didn't do, don't make it more."
Regardless of whether or not the two of them had been shouting across the room, nobody was really paying attention. The new recruits in the room had still been either fighting, or conversing with equal amounts of vulgarity as Enzo had displayed.
Setting
0.00 INK
Off to the side of the room stood a man of monstrous proportions. He towered over everyone else in the room, even a pair of several of them might not have stood in equal measure.
He was dressed in a black long coat worn under a heavy breastplate. Several grenades were attached to the plate, along with a large rifle, billy club, and an almost archaic bayonet that doubled as a sword belted to his waist. His helmet was burnished black and the tinted lenses set over the eyes were a black mirror that reflected the room he was currently scanning.
Sergeant Markus Creed was all but in name, the man in charge of this section of the ship in terms of the patrolling soldiers and law enforcement. Very little made it past his notice, and much of the illicit things that were seemingly unnoticed were often simply allowed since being effectively trapped aboard a ship was a nightmare without some form of entertainment other than what their curt captain allowed. Markus himself was the ship's reigning arm wrestling champion, so he was lenient, as well as stern.
His attention was caught as a large, brutish man, by normal comparison, began yelling at another recruit over a spot to sit down.
Markus knew those types, willing to fight over anything just to prove they were stronger, and therefore better, but Markus also knew the difference between strength and simple aggression. He despised the large man instantly, and was mildly impressed when the smaller one dodged aside and made it away from the area before the melee went on in full.
His men moved to subdue the quarrel in an instant, but the Sergeant held them back with a motion of his hand and watched as a dozen or so recruits began pounding into one another.
After a minute or so, seeing that none of them would cease of their own accord, Markus went into the maelstrom himself, drawing his club as he went.
The first of those he came across was a thin man in the same worn garb most of the rest of the recruits wore. He was snarling and trying to tear the shirt from a woman who was screaming and trying to fight him off. Attention fixed on his prey, the man took no notice of Markus until he swung his club and shattered the man's arm. Now it was his turn to scream as he fell back holding his ruined hand.
Meanwhile the Sergeant shoved another man out of the raving throng, struck one woman in the solar plexus, stunning her, and simply stepped over one poor sod that had hit the floor.
Finally coming to the center of the storm, Markus pushed another frothing recruit off of the large, yet smaller, man that had started the commotion. The large man himself, whose name tag read, "Ericson", whirled, fist connecting with the solid breastplate the Sergeant wore. One broken knuckle and a headbutt later, he was staggering back, into the arms of the soldiers who were now pulling other people apart and cuffing those that wouldn't cease.
"Get those that are wounded to the medbay, and the big one... And that skinny bastard patched up and take them to the brig. Solitary for them both.", he commanded, his deep voice like a shattering mountain booming through the room. "Give them half rations for the next two weeks, and I want the names of everyone else involved and their rations cut by a third for the next week."
The skull-like visage of his onyx helm turned towards the man and woman that had more easily dodged out of the fight and pointed towards them.
"The same goes for the girl and the man over there.", he added with a dark finality.
He was dressed in a black long coat worn under a heavy breastplate. Several grenades were attached to the plate, along with a large rifle, billy club, and an almost archaic bayonet that doubled as a sword belted to his waist. His helmet was burnished black and the tinted lenses set over the eyes were a black mirror that reflected the room he was currently scanning.
Sergeant Markus Creed was all but in name, the man in charge of this section of the ship in terms of the patrolling soldiers and law enforcement. Very little made it past his notice, and much of the illicit things that were seemingly unnoticed were often simply allowed since being effectively trapped aboard a ship was a nightmare without some form of entertainment other than what their curt captain allowed. Markus himself was the ship's reigning arm wrestling champion, so he was lenient, as well as stern.
His attention was caught as a large, brutish man, by normal comparison, began yelling at another recruit over a spot to sit down.
Markus knew those types, willing to fight over anything just to prove they were stronger, and therefore better, but Markus also knew the difference between strength and simple aggression. He despised the large man instantly, and was mildly impressed when the smaller one dodged aside and made it away from the area before the melee went on in full.
His men moved to subdue the quarrel in an instant, but the Sergeant held them back with a motion of his hand and watched as a dozen or so recruits began pounding into one another.
After a minute or so, seeing that none of them would cease of their own accord, Markus went into the maelstrom himself, drawing his club as he went.
The first of those he came across was a thin man in the same worn garb most of the rest of the recruits wore. He was snarling and trying to tear the shirt from a woman who was screaming and trying to fight him off. Attention fixed on his prey, the man took no notice of Markus until he swung his club and shattered the man's arm. Now it was his turn to scream as he fell back holding his ruined hand.
Meanwhile the Sergeant shoved another man out of the raving throng, struck one woman in the solar plexus, stunning her, and simply stepped over one poor sod that had hit the floor.
Finally coming to the center of the storm, Markus pushed another frothing recruit off of the large, yet smaller, man that had started the commotion. The large man himself, whose name tag read, "Ericson", whirled, fist connecting with the solid breastplate the Sergeant wore. One broken knuckle and a headbutt later, he was staggering back, into the arms of the soldiers who were now pulling other people apart and cuffing those that wouldn't cease.
"Get those that are wounded to the medbay, and the big one... And that skinny bastard patched up and take them to the brig. Solitary for them both.", he commanded, his deep voice like a shattering mountain booming through the room. "Give them half rations for the next two weeks, and I want the names of everyone else involved and their rations cut by a third for the next week."
The skull-like visage of his onyx helm turned towards the man and woman that had more easily dodged out of the fight and pointed towards them.
"The same goes for the girl and the man over there.", he added with a dark finality.
Setting
0.00 INK
"Get those that are wounded to the medbay, and the big one... And that skinny bastard patched up and take them to the brig. Solitary for them both. Give them half rations for the next two weeks, and I want the names of everyone else involved and their rations cut by a third for the next week."
Hearing the words of the sergeant changed Lucas' demeanor noticeably, "The same goes for the girl and the man over there."
Life aboard the Crucible was tough, even more-so as a recruit. Step out of line, and get punched back in. He observed as the ship's recruits were either cuffed and escorted away for a quick scare, or slowly slinking away to try and avoid what was coming. There wasn't much to be seen, or said - it happened every time a new shift started. Lucas began to walk away, his footsteps echoing down the long metal corridors as the area grew silent.
He glanced at his PDA to check the time. The recruits were supposed to drop their belongings off at their bunks and head to the meeting hall again for a proper orientation. Lucas didn't know how long Creed and the other soldiers would take with the recruits, but he figured it wouldn't be more than an hour - and in all honesty, an hours wait was more than acceptable to watch the recruits get lectured a bit more by the first mate. Lucas could tell they absolutely adored him in their own pitiful way.
The meeting room, which was stuffed with some fifty uncomfortable metal chairs, had a fairly low ceiling that barely gave room for those standing on the upper balcony if they were taller than six feet, but that was the only place Lucas could go without getting in the way. It was only accessible through the maintenance shafts, as it was built with the intention that it would be used to only service the various monitors and equipment mounted to the roof, but plenty of people went their to observe the recruits - and so had Lucas. He stood leaning against the metal pipe railing with about ten others as recruits slowly shuffled in and took their seats.
Hearing the words of the sergeant changed Lucas' demeanor noticeably, "The same goes for the girl and the man over there."
Life aboard the Crucible was tough, even more-so as a recruit. Step out of line, and get punched back in. He observed as the ship's recruits were either cuffed and escorted away for a quick scare, or slowly slinking away to try and avoid what was coming. There wasn't much to be seen, or said - it happened every time a new shift started. Lucas began to walk away, his footsteps echoing down the long metal corridors as the area grew silent.
He glanced at his PDA to check the time. The recruits were supposed to drop their belongings off at their bunks and head to the meeting hall again for a proper orientation. Lucas didn't know how long Creed and the other soldiers would take with the recruits, but he figured it wouldn't be more than an hour - and in all honesty, an hours wait was more than acceptable to watch the recruits get lectured a bit more by the first mate. Lucas could tell they absolutely adored him in their own pitiful way.
The meeting room, which was stuffed with some fifty uncomfortable metal chairs, had a fairly low ceiling that barely gave room for those standing on the upper balcony if they were taller than six feet, but that was the only place Lucas could go without getting in the way. It was only accessible through the maintenance shafts, as it was built with the intention that it would be used to only service the various monitors and equipment mounted to the roof, but plenty of people went their to observe the recruits - and so had Lucas. He stood leaning against the metal pipe railing with about ten others as recruits slowly shuffled in and took their seats.
- 12 posts here • Page 1 of 1
View All »Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts that you can organize on your own. They're useful for telling a story that might span long periods of time or space.
There are no arcs in this roleplay.
View All » Create New » Quests
There are no quests in this roleplay.
Add Group » View All » 0 Factions to align with
Here's the current leaderboard.
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Game Master Controls
Welcome home, Promethean. Here, you can manage your universe.
Arcs
Arcs are bundles of posts from any location, allowing you to easily capture sub-plots which might be spread out across multiple locations.
Add Quest » Quests
You can create Quests with various rewards, encouraging your players to engage with specific plot lines.
Add Setting » 1 Settings for your players to play in
Settings are the backdrop for the characters in your universe, giving meaning and context to their existence. By creating a number of well-written locations, you can organize your universe into areas and regions.
Navigation
While not required, locations can be organized onto a map. More information soon!
Add Group » 0 Factions to align with
There are no groups in this roleplay!
Collectibles
By creating Collectibles, you can reward your players with unique items that accentuate their character sheets.
Once an Item has been created, it can be spawned in the IC using /spawn Item Name (case-sensitive, as usual) — this can be followed with /take Item Name to retrieve the item into the current character's inventory.
Mobs
Give your Universe life by adding a Mob, which are auto-replenishing NPCs your players can interact with. Useful for some quick hack-and-slash fun!
Mobs can be automated spawns, like rats and bats, or full-on NPCs complete with conversation menus. Use them to enhance your player experience!
Current Mobs
No mobs have been created yet.
Spawns
Locations where Mobs and Items might appear.
Events
You can schedule events for your players to create notifications and schedule times for everyone to plan around.
The Forge
Use your INK to craft new artifacts in The Crucible. Once created, Items cannot be changed, but they can be bought and sold in the marketplace.
Notable Items
No items have been created yet!
The Market
Buy, sell, and even craft your own items in this universe.
Market DataMarket conditions are Quick Buy (Items Most Recently Listed for Sale) |
Open Stores
View All » Add Character » 6 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Gwen Cadigan
A pickpocket sentenced to become a soldier in space.
Lucas Elwood
An engineer with nowhere else to go.
Trending
Gwen Cadigan
A pickpocket sentenced to become a soldier in space.
Lucas Elwood
An engineer with nowhere else to go.
Most Followed
Lucas Elwood
An engineer with nowhere else to go.
Gwen Cadigan
A pickpocket sentenced to become a soldier in space.
View All » Places
Fullscreen Chat » Create Topic » The Crucible: Out of Character
Discussions
-
- Topics
- Replies
- Views
- Last post
-
-
The Crucible
by zxci on Mon Jun 15, 2015 6:09 am
- 10 Replies
- 819 Views
- Last post by ValaunDae'Voth
on Mon Jul 06, 2015 8:33 pm
-
The Crucible
Most recent OOC posts in The Crucible
Re: The Crucible
Sorry for the late post. I hope you've all not lost interest lol.
So, basically what I have in mind:
I want to try and rush the orientation and get the ship headed off into the fringe. Roleplay's had a bit of a slow start. So, what'll happen is all the recruits will go to the ship's meeting/briefing room, the first mate will explain their roles and what to do under certain circumstances, then I'll make a post that essentially skips a bit of time as the ship undocks from Archway station and heads out into the fringe. From there, it'll start getting interesting.
..
I suppose I should make character sheets for the first mate and the captain, considering they'll be important plot devices.
..
Would anybody be interested in playing the first mate, actually? I'll save the captain for myself for gamemaster reasons, but the first mate could definitely be played by someone else after orientation. I'll want to use him to explain the crews duties, but he could totally be assumed by someone else after that.
So, basically what I have in mind:
I want to try and rush the orientation and get the ship headed off into the fringe. Roleplay's had a bit of a slow start. So, what'll happen is all the recruits will go to the ship's meeting/briefing room, the first mate will explain their roles and what to do under certain circumstances, then I'll make a post that essentially skips a bit of time as the ship undocks from Archway station and heads out into the fringe. From there, it'll start getting interesting.
..
I suppose I should make character sheets for the first mate and the captain, considering they'll be important plot devices.
..
Would anybody be interested in playing the first mate, actually? I'll save the captain for myself for gamemaster reasons, but the first mate could definitely be played by someone else after orientation. I'll want to use him to explain the crews duties, but he could totally be assumed by someone else after that.
Re: The Crucible
zxci wrote:I do plan on one alien encounter happening soon though. As for character relationships, I planned on just winging those but that's also up to you guys as much as it is me. :p
Hello,
I came across this RP and I was wondering if you were still taking character applications. If so, would it be possible for me to play an alien? Would you prefer the alien be a Vet or Recruit?
Thanks.
EDIT: Sorry, please ignore this inquiry.
Re: The Crucible
The basic outline I had planned for the plot was that after all our characters got introduced, they'd go to another meeting with the first mate, who would explain what the crew would be doing and where they would be going(as in: the ship itself, and their tasks on the patrol route when it stops/lands). It's up for input for you guys, naturally
I do plan on one alien encounter happening soon though. As for character relationships, I planned on just winging those but that's also up to you guys as much as it is me. :p
I do plan on one alien encounter happening soon though. As for character relationships, I planned on just winging those but that's also up to you guys as much as it is me. :p
Re: The Crucible
Hey. Seems like this RP has finally got going. Should we discuss some plot and relationships things that should happen going forward?
Or do we all want to just wing it the rest of the way through?
Or do we all want to just wing it the rest of the way through?
Re: The Crucible
It got to me. I have it set so that the gamemaster has to approve/reject the character for it to show up as part of the roleplay. He seems like a great character to have aboard, and if this actually takes off, I look forward to seeing how it plays out!
Re: The Crucible
I'm also interested in this role play. And would love to join in. I'm new to this site, so I'm not sure what I have to do to join.
I submitted my character, with image and all, but I can't find it now, so I'm not sure if it got to you to review, or if I have to retype it all out. I hope not, because I didn't save any of it.
Anyways, I hope I can join. It seems like a fun role play.
I submitted my character, with image and all, but I can't find it now, so I'm not sure if it got to you to review, or if I have to retype it all out. I hope not, because I didn't save any of it.
Anyways, I hope I can join. It seems like a fun role play.
Re: The Crucible
Sorry for lacking all of that information, it'll be added to the roleplay page itself soon enough.
The age range is as young as 17 to as old as you can be and still walk.
Veteran would be someone who's served on the ship for more than one rotation (which is how often they intake new crew, every year).
Gear... I haven't thought about that. I suppose it could be user specified so long as it fits with the era. Think the movie Alien in terms of tech level, but with less 1980 computer monitors, lol
edit: There we go, I added that information as well as a bit more under "additional info". Should clear up some questions. I'll still be adding more, but that should suffice for now..
The age range is as young as 17 to as old as you can be and still walk.
Veteran would be someone who's served on the ship for more than one rotation (which is how often they intake new crew, every year).
Gear... I haven't thought about that. I suppose it could be user specified so long as it fits with the era. Think the movie Alien in terms of tech level, but with less 1980 computer monitors, lol
edit: There we go, I added that information as well as a bit more under "additional info". Should clear up some questions. I'll still be adding more, but that should suffice for now..
Re: The Crucible
This RP seems to have a ton of potential. Im willing to put a CS but I have a few questions:
What is the age range for the marines?
When you put Veteran on the CS does that mean Veteran on the Ship or Veteran from a previous military?
Will our gear and equipment be outlined or is this user-specified?
What is the age range for the marines?
When you put Veteran on the CS does that mean Veteran on the Ship or Veteran from a previous military?
Will our gear and equipment be outlined or is this user-specified?
The Crucible
Here I'm going to put all the information that relates to the roleplay. What exactly that is, I don't yet know. Universe-specific things, I guess. Technological terms and expectations, and the sorts.
--== READING THIS IS COMPLETELY OPTIONAL. IT IS MEANT AS A REFERENCE SOURCE. ==--
The Crucible:
"The Crucible" - The name of the largest, and most notorious of all the Reformation class ships in the UFN Navy. The UFN Crucible stretches to a staggering 800 meters at its longest. It houses nearly two hundred, which might not seem like much, but it's quite cramped in its busiest areas. They take recruits along dangerous patrol routes into the fringe.
The environment of the ship is gritty, sometimes noisy sometimes quiet, and very industrial. Think of the Nostromo.
As explained by the ship's First Mate:
"First, you'll be familiarized with the ship." The first mate pulled a remote from one of his pockets and pointed it towards a large monitor on the wall infront of the recruits. A diagram of the ship appeared, comprised of three layers made of thin blue lines. "The ship's divided into three sections. The lower decks, which contain the cargo bays, prison wards, the engine room, and the majority of the heavy machinery. The upper decks, which you will work and live in, contain the necessities to feed, house, and train you. Above that, the bridge, off limits to all recruits. That is all you need to know to make your way around the ship.
The majority of the ship is accessible to recruits. 80% of the ship, in fact; and that is not including maintenence sections. The only areas inaccessible are the captains quarters, officer quarters, the bridge, the war room, and certain areas housing sensitive equipment, such as artificial gravity generators.
Your Character:
While there is no true age requirement for being aboard the Crucible, or any other Reformation ship, the requirements are generally thought of as being of legal age(17 in the UF), and being able to walk or work some sort of task.
Your character is one of two things:
- a Veteran, or
- a Recruit
If you are a recruit, this means you're on your very first Rotation aboard the Crucible. Think of a Rotation as a shift. Starting on the first day of the year, it begins, and doesn't end until that day comes round again. Complete it, and all your crimes are pardoned by the United Federation. You aren't likely to complete it. If you're a veteran, this means you completed your rotation, and volunteered (for pay) to stay aboard.
Your character is, most likely, one of these two things. There are special gamemaster circumstances that would give reason to not be one.
Character Gear: They're welcome to bring whatever they want so long as it fits within the technological scope of the universe, and they have reason to be in posession of it. It's unlikely that your character would have a rare sword collection, and it's unlikely that your character would have their favorite leather couch brought on board. Custom weapons are fine, so long as you have explanation as to why they have it. (If your character is proficient with a certain weapon, and had it assigned to them, that counts. IF, your character is assigned as a soldier.)
Character Task: On the Crucible, everyone has a job. From the Janitors, to the Cooks, to the Soldiers. If you're onboard, you were given a task, and it's your duty to uphold that task. When shit hits the fan, and your task is no longer viable, you're drafted to be part of the ships militia if you can fight. If not, you'll man turrets, or haul ammo to those who need it, assuming the ship's being boarded (which it never has, to date).
The Technology:
Technology has indeed advanced a great deal since the 21'st century that we are familiar with, though the majority of it still resides far from where our story takes place. You're a mere 20 lightyears from the Fringe - the furthest reaches of known space. FTL travel is expensive when you're running cargo, such as loads of expensive tech, and there are no factories or manufacturing plants this far out.
Weapon technology is still, for the majority, bullet based, but rudimentary laser weapons do exist and they are effective. Battery technology has not increased much. They charge fast, discharge fast, but don't hold much power. Generators are a must. Hydrocarbons are still the go-to fuel source for portable generators. If you've a laser weapon, keep this in mind - you won't need a backpack full of batteries, but it won't last forever.
FTL technology is rudimentary, but reliable (mostly). A fusion-based powerplant will provide the kick needed to start up a ship's warpdrive no problem, but FTL drives put out a LOT of heat. Every ship equipped with one is generally equipped with large radiation and heatsinks, which must eventually vent out into space. This is the source of that familiar "chugugugugugu" sound. The venting itself isn't what causes it, so much as the machinery that opens and closes the large venting arrays.
Don't be surprised if a ship drops out of FTL unexpectedly. It's happened many times.
Medical technology is extremely advanced. If you lose a limb, you'll get a robotic one in no time. If you're severely burned or cut up to all hell, you can be fixed, albeit scarred, in only a few days time. Surgery is nearly perfected in this day and age. Depending on how close you are to civilization, you might be thrown in a robotic operating pod and out within the hour. On the Crucible, only one such pod exists. When it's busy, the ship's medics have to get their fingers dirty. Make no mistake - they're still great.
Sci-Fi technology, aside from FTL drives, is sorely lacking. There aren't many hoverboards, shield projectors, or teleportation devices. No replicators, either. Prototypes have been rumored to exist beyond the Fringe, and some Earth scientists at the TITAN Labs (Terran Institute of Technology and Advanced Research) have produced reliable test results in the fields.
Gravity Generators do exist, however, but they aren't perfectly functional. They can't replicate a planet's gravity exact, and have been known to fail when the ship is under extreme load.
Computational technology is on pretty good terms. Expect computers, tablets, PDA's, laptops and phones to be familiar. While the computational power has increased exponentially, they're still pretty aesthetically similar. Quantum Entanglement allows for faster than light communication for said computers, which is vital when ships are as far out as the Fringe.
The Map:
The universe we're playing in will be massive, and a map would not be feasible. Given that space is three dimensional, a two dimensional map simply would have no purpose, either. Truly, all you need to know are the geopolitical zones, and which one we're in.
UFN Controlled Space: UFN Controlled Space is a huge zone centered around Earth, extending to the Fringe (thousands of lightyears away). It's mostly peaceful, crime is at an all time low, and heavily militarized. There are no aliens here. This is where the roleplay starts, at Archway Station, 20 lightyears from the fringe.
Archway Station, named after the Gateway Arch, is the furthest station from society that exists. It's right next to the fringe, and heavily guarded by the UFN for both it's significance as a resupply depot and historically. It was built in 2280, and supplied ships that entered the fringe for the very first time. This station generally supplies all of the Reformation ships.
The Fringe: Basically the name for "everywhere the UFN or its enemies doesn't control". Aliens were first sighted at the fringe, and immediately after their discovery, bandits and pirates have plagued the area seeking to loot exploration ships for their expensive tech. That, and to bag some live aliens to sell on black markets. The fringe is dangerous, "politically neutral" (though patrols run through all the time), and generally avoided by civilians. There are civilian colonies, though no faction will back them should they need assistance. None as of yet, that is.
The Asi Collective: The Asi Collective is the UF's only major competitor in terms of military might or size. They If you think of space from Earth to the Fringe as a sphere, one half is the UF(the bigger half, rather), and the smaller portion is the Asi Collective. Technologically, the Asi Collective are slightly superior, though in sheer might and wealth, they're inferior. Some argue that the Asi Collective are in contact with an advanced alien civilization within the Fringe, though they have no sources to verify these claims.
More will go here in time.