Delfye Ojive's Story

/write
Delfye was the last of the freighter Yamaya’s crew to disembark. Well, maybe Conrad was still aboard; from the way she talked, he guessed the ship’s owner rarely left her vessel.

The sammaran had said his goodbyes and declined the crew’s offers for drinks and the other distractions Blue Heaven offered. He had not eschewed friendly relations with the others during the weeks in transit, but everyone knew he was a temp, onboarded to fulfill mutual needs. The Yamaya’s--of an engineering assistant--and his--of transit to the colonies.

Smells, always the smells. Delfye had been on Terra a long time. Long enough to convince himself he had forgotten his life among the stars. He might meditate away the familiar thrum of a well-worn fusion drive, avert his eyes from the sprawling starfields out the viewports, or work and sweat away the stomach-churning shifts between poorly-tuned gravitational dampers. The smells though--recycled air, irradiated plasteel, and vaporized synthetic lubricants--those always brought back a flood of memories of before. Memories that unbalanced the sammaran more than the familiar weight of his cybernetic limb. Memories of--

Focus, old man. You’re not here for that.

Delfye took in the familiar terminus of Blue Heaven. Much had changed in a decade, even if it had the same stink. More non-humans. Maybe Sol’s economy was on the upswing again. Hopefully--that would make it more likely for Genecorp to keep her in-system. If Aishe was shipped off via a NLS popsicle hopper, that would complicate things for him, especially if he took a warp ship, and arrived four thousand years before she did.

Haha. Not likely you’d even end up in the same sector if you made that mistake. He thought with a grimace.

So let’s make sure that doesn’t happen, by finding the right person to ask the right questions. He counseled himself. The sammaran crossed from the Yamaya’s gangway airlock to the nearest of the glitchy monitors, then parsed through the information screens until he found a map of Blue Heaven.

AHSC Esteem
Reverence II Class Planetary Assault Carrier
Imperial Defense Force

CIC

Admiral Hanley didn’t think she would once again find herself back at the Blue Heaven, with the miniscule asteroid prominently displayed within the center of the large, and airy command center within one of the largest, and most powerful Imperial Aschen warships in the galaxy. Her eyes were focused on the Blue Heaven much like a predator’s would be as it surveyed it’s prey. The shimmering blue, red, and green icons denoting various ships coming and going as well as their various vectors were displayed alongside the blue heaven, and the vectors for the Imperial formation that surrounded the Blue Heaven like a blockade, menacing any traffic that was coming, and going.

Hanley kept her hands firmly clasped behind her back, breaking her interlocked fingers only momentarily to push some errant strands of red hair out of her face. She was staring stonefaced at the display, and then she broke her gaze to avert towards her executive officer, Colonel Juergen Belzen, a middle aged, physically fit man with an olive complexion, a man of clear Tauron descent.

“Colonel, take us on a docking approach, use due caution I’d hate for the whole thing to strike the hull. Gravitic distortions or not, we should announce ourselves rather than sit out here, menacing the station. Line it up with Airlock truss Alpha nine.” Hanley added as she looked back towards the display.

“Admiral, there’s what appeares to be a civilian freighter blocking our approach vector. I have not parsed the origin, but it appears it’s make and design are unique.” The Colonel reported.

“Registration inquiry complete, Admiral.” A holographic woman flickered into view immediately on the console besides Hanley, offering her a warm smile. “Registration ‘Yamaya’ Origin unknown, comparing design features with all known vessels.”

While EVE Set to work, and Colonel Belzen set to plotting their approach vector, Hanley settled into her own position at the main console, briefly surveying the hundreds of people within the Esteem’s CIC Going about their functions like a well oiled machine, as was expected for those within the Imperial Military.

—-

All three of the Esteem’s massive plasmic-fusion drives came to life with a brilliant blue-green glow. Gracefully, the massive Reverence class lurched forward through the crowded blackness of space, slipping free from it’s position among the Imperial fleet, and crossing the vast gulf between itself, and the asteroid. The closer the sleek, yet bulbous Aschen warship approached, the larger it seemed to be, clocking in at roughly twenty three kilometers long, and nearly two thirds as wide, and deep. The Reverence II was a self contained city, carrying a compliment of soldiers, logistical personnel, and the manufacturing capabilities to keep an entire fleet supplied on even the longest deployments. It passed within a scant two kilometers above where the Yamaya was docked, and it’s sheer size was now glaringly obvious. It’s hull plating bore the years of battles, followed by refits, followed by even more battles as the iridescent alien material the massive ship was clad in seemed to be new in some places, and worn in others.

One could even make out recessed weapon emplacements that were easily as large as some civilian heavy freighters. These Turbodisruptor batteries were capable of unleashing enough destruction to flatten cities, and their power sources were linked through quick-charge capacitors to the Reverence’s gargantuan Deuterium-tritium cold fusion reactors.

The void filled with a static charge as the warship’s energy shields cycled, armored plates retracting to reveal a modest docking bay where transport shuttles were being fueled, and prepared for departure. It was at that moment a trio of sleek, and angular looking Raptor Talon starfighters passed beneath the Yamaya, rolling to starboard, and jetting along the Esteem’s hull.

While the helm crew of the Esteem carefully maneuvered the ship into position, Hanley watched the Blue Heaven on her display. Her eyes narrowed.

“What should we do about the freighter?” Belzen asked.

“They’ll get the message.” Hanley said, shifting her weight and clasping her hands behind her back once more.

Delfye

Something blotted out the wan light of distant Sol as it approached the asteroid colony.

Jesus Christ, that is a big ship. Delfye thought. He had stolen borrowed a lot of vehicles over the years. He had been the legitimate pilot of a somewhat smaller number. Of those, not one of them amounted to a kitten fart to the hurricane of metal and machinery that was cozying up to the asteroid.

“Ahh… fuck me.” The sammaran muttered yet again, now looking past the Ravana to the large transparisteel ceiling of the pressurized berths, where he could see…a part of the immense warship. Just what he needed; ten thousand randy Space Nazis flooding Blue Heaven when he was already trying to find a needle in this haystack.

If he hadn’t liked Conrad, he might have had a nasty chuckle at the way the Reverence made its approach--like the Yamaya wasn’t even there. But he had liked the captain well enough, and was glad to see how she quickly undocked and used the Yamaya’s maneuvering thrusters to skedaddle to a berth on the far side of Blue Heaven. Good thing she hadn’t been sleeping. He assumed the freighter would redock somewhere else on BH. She certainly wasn’t going to get very far with her crew all ashore. She wasn’t solely held together with chicken-wire and bubblegum, like some of the ships Delfye had worked on; there was some string and duct-tape binding her guts together too. Still, she needed a full crew compliment to keep all her pieces flying in close formation to one another.

Well, better hurry. He concluded. Best find out what his PI had uncovered, before the Aschens arrived. Delfye wasn’t terribly concerned about the new arrivals, beyond their ability to overcrowd the station and generally get in the way. Even when he had been working for Intercorp he had never rated imperial notice. The Aschen high muckety-mucks were racist pricks, but they maintained discipline enough down through the ranks that their presence didn’t crush whoever’s throat they were standing on--unless they wanted it crushed.

With these thoughts in mind, Delfye hustled to the appointed meeting place, off the Blue Heaven Main Promenade.

The small transport ship, ever so covertly popped back into normal space, a process that would have taken hours at least took mere mere seconds. Belle was taken aback, nowhere was Xamoyos anymore and instead she saw... something else coming into view, a stark contrast to the greens and blues of a life-rich planet and instead the artificial lights of a more intentional structure.

Belle didn't know why the systems of the Deep 17 transport reacted to her input, but it was as if it were made for her in some way, or her for it? This chunk of rock in space was her destination all the same for some reason. But she felt many beings collected, a place where she may no longer feel alone, and find purpose. As the lights of the cockpit flickered, a voice came over the control panel.

"Oh woOoow! Seriously, a neoprimordial entity!? Those aren't too common, I think? Can you speak, do you have a naAaame? Also hi, I'm Bashemath, and I'm sooOOoo interested in knowing eEEeeverything about you! Oh and um, you are currently like grandthefting some Deep 17 tech," a very upbeat young woman's voice was heard speaking, and Belle was suddenly curious as to where it was coming from. "Um, how did you know how to operate it, anyways? Like, the bio-metric scanner shouldn't have allowed anything non-human to operate, which meaaans... um... actually you're getting kinda close to the Blue Heaven docks, you dooOOo know how to land... riiIIIiiight?"

Belle has no idea what this voice is talking about, but it is interesting! She poked at the buttons with her thin fingers, hoping that at least one of them would open this flying contraption. Also, why were the lights in the craft starting to flash red, and why was it now making an annoyingly loud whining noise?

Moments later a Deep 17 vessel approaches for landing... and crash lands onto the docks, skidding across on its side before flopping over upside down to a stop.

"Wow, that was um... uh... uhhh... haha, you must be kinda bruised up huh? Lemme open the emergency door for you... wait, what? Jammed?" Bashemath says as Belle, finally locating the voice, has taken the communication device and coiled it in her long prehensile tail. She also now seemed to be wearing, rather ill-fittingly, a spare Deep 17 lab coat. She squeezed her way out of the cracked open exit door, dislocating and relocating limbs as she pulled herself free of the wreckage but seems absolutely unaffected outside of some strain. ""That... looked painful, yet... uh, not for you, huh? You just kinda... shift around. Cool~! Wait, are you SAVING me? I'm not a-"

Belle looked around the docking area, there was a huge one of those vessels... even bigger than her! Probably best to leave that one alone. Her ears twitched at a rattling sound, knocking, and moved towards it, bouncing off luggage and other vehicles along the way, rather acrobatically given her size. When she finally reached the sound, a... well, seemed like a winged... human? Such a strange thought, have they acquired the ability to morph as well?

Leaning over, she began to knock on the airlock as well. Maybe there was something to this strange ritual?

Belle understood more than the winged girl knew, and she studied the door. She gave what seemed a perplexed expression to Miiya as she assaulted the door. Tilting her head to the side. This was no different than the containment doors back in the old place, green means open, red means don't open.

"O... pen," she uttered. Trying to tell her that it could just be opened now. She casually raised one of her claws and gripped the manual override handles and pulled. "See?"

Belle took to watching the events unfold and noticed things sort of deescalate pretty quickly. There were oddities in their tones, but from what she could gather, there was some familial quality between the supposed kidnapper and supposedly kidnapped. She waved in at Delfye, but gave an odd look at his cybernetic enhancements and gave an odd look at him. Despite everything Belle remained composed and calm, even in such a shift in scenery from the overgrowth of Xamoyos, like she doesn't even experience culture shock like most do.

"So, now that this is resolved, could you please now turn yourself over to Deep 17? That w-," Bashemath was heard over the communicator Belle was still holding with her tail. Belle was, however distracted with a sound, her ears twitched, picking up an intense irregularity in the winged girl's heartbeat. She stepped carefully over to Miiya, and leaned over to look at her in the face. Then carefully curled her tail around offering it as a makeshift seat, which, given its size could easily accommodate her. She had seen this before. She was just at the cusp of heart failure.

"Slow... deep breaths," she said in a voice almost ill befit the frame it occupied. It was calm, soft spoken, yet a bit husky. She was repeating what she had heard before, having observed similar in her time of containment, but was also trying to keep Miiya lucid. "In, 1-2-3, out."

As the security arrived, Belle's general composure... didn't shift dramatically, she had no intention to resist authority, or to fight for that matter. She could seriously hurt them, and she wasn't alright with that thought. And Miiya? Well, she still needs time to regulate her heartbeat. Then the comm speaks up.

"Excuse me, hello? This is Bashemath Addler, of Deep 17! The creature before you is a profoundly intelligent neoprimordial lifeform and, despite her looks... what form she's currently using, anyways, is not, and I repeat NOT a threat. She's currently administering aid to the young lady, not a captive! Just hold her and we'll be by to pick her up... and whatever is left of the lander," Bashemath said over the communicator. "Just um... refrain from violence? That'd be bad, kay?"