Nico Armitage's Story

Celcius was silent as she watched the wiggling, blue limb stretch into the open. In the background, she could hear the mutterings of her companions as they quipped about the situation but they were little more than a buzz to the woman as her mind ticked through its thoughts. Her mental list checked off their first accomplishment as 'done', not 'succeeded' but it was certainly over. The real elements of their mission were about to take place and she needed to shift gear from camp councillor to captain.

Several other tentacles had also slithered outside of the cave, probing for potential prey. They snaked blindly through the air, bumping into the ground and the odd tree before recoiling and changing course. While tantalizing, they weren't ready for this and she knew it. Calmly and quietly, Celcius instructed into the comms. "Everyone, get back to the ship. We'll reconvene in the dinning room in an hour. Don't be late." Her pale eyes glanced at each member briefly, ensuring they understood the situation. The android then nodded once before crawling away as proudly as she could. With some time, and grass stains, she arrived back into the still-standing forest to jog to the ship.

Her curiosities had been smothered with business. She didn't care to watch the orange, floating dots that jiggled away from her as she ran. One had come dangerously close to hitting her in the face but it picked up its shuffling pace to a panicked bounce and avoided the collision. Celcius barely noticed. Instead she could see Vladimir standing in the distance and hurried her return. The Captain's system connected to Vladimir's consciousness with a beep as it began to spit out an insult. 'No foreign life detected.' It's translation would be something between 'where's that fish you were meant to catch?' and 'I see you failed'. Celcius ignored the taunt and began her orders. "Send out the probs. Concentrate on the west forest where the trees were broken down and a cave on the rock face. The words fell confidently from her lips as she marched into the ship. Vladimir beeped a confirmation.

Several whirling sounds began to buzz from the engineering bay. They were dull whistles that held a constant pace. Little, circular bots clicked from their resting homes to fly through the ship and out of the landing stairs with their little propellers that kept them in air. They flew forward by Vladimir's AI which tracked every scan they took into its logs. Hoping that they would get some type of information from the AI's minions, Celcius prepared for the meeting.

His eyes went wide as he saw the squid or octopus like appendages writhing in midair.

“Oh, what the hell?” Mal whispered.

He watched Brax step into position, assault rifle primed on the target. Mal was unsure how much damage one soldier could do against what seemed to be some gargantuan monstrosity. Mal pulled out a computer rod and slid open a transparent sheet screen from its side. The sheet screen was so thin that its height seemed indiscernible. Mal tried to raise the sheet so that it could capture the creature better than his eyes.

Nothing but tentacles. A better view could not be found. The captain and Brax had the best view so he watched and waited on them. What kind of world was Alpha-seven? He wondered if they would find swimming birds. It seemed anatomically impossible and contradictory to the laws of physics. Or rather, the laws of physics as he had known them. The floating fish could be explained, but swimming birds, now that was something to look forward to.

The captain’s voice came on the comms, “Everyone, get back to the ship. We'll reconvene in the dining room in an hour. Don't be late."

“Aye Captain,” Mal nodded as she glanced at him.

The group dispersed, Mal would have struck up some conversation with the cook or the doc, but he decided the dining hall would be a more appropriate locale. Down the brush and onto some steady ground filled with grass. A throb of pain jolted his cut finger, and he had to shake it until it was numb again. Mal left the rocket launcher with the soldier, he’ll probably return it to the armory, he thought.

He wandered down a different trail led by his panel’s navigator system. The little orange spots dispersed as he approached them. Mal spotted several glowing purple caps that could be this world’s equivalent of mushrooms. He had a brief thought about his days back in university, and he remembered why he would never do mushrooms again. The nav system’s blinking tone interrupted his thoughts and he continued on.

As he neared the ship, he watched as little orbs departed from the opening like metallic pollen from a steel flower. Their multicolored scanning beams washing over him as they whirred past him. They disappeared beyond the forest behind him.

Mal waved at them as he knew they were sort of like the ship’s eyes, “Vladimir,” he addressed the ship AI, “Can you get me a systems scan and a status report on the engine? I had to repair a damaged panel in there.”

"Everyone, get back to the ship. We'll reconvene in the dinning room in an hour. Don't be late."

He did not have to be told twice. Nico rolled from his hiding place, unceremoniously rising from his knees and legging it over to the ship's entrance. Safe inside, he was able to calm himself as he walked to the kitchen. He still had a perpetual tingle going down his spine, as though the octopus-tentacle-thing had somehow followed him inside without his notice, ready to pounce on him the minute he turned his back. Standing at his counter, he removed his satchel and took a few deep breaths. The Vladimir was probably protected. He'd be fine until the Captain ordered him to charge the creature head-on, which given the way his day had been so far wasn't completely out of the question.

First things first. He removed the samples he'd taken from the plants and started the machine at the back of his kitchen. In a few hours he'd have more of an idea of what parts were edible, if any. Then, he went through his storage, making a mental note of the inventory and picking out a few things for lunch. Or breakfast. Food, anyhow. His suspicions that the storage was inadequately stocked was soon confirmed, which worried him a little. The fish seemed out of the question, and he had no more harpoons to try out on the octopus. So far the plant was their greatest hope for a fresh meal, and according to his investigations it would be a boring meal at best.

Even so, he got the cooker started, deciding on a nourishing stew to get everyone's energy up and running. He made a few reasonably sized portions (saving, saving, saving) and got out the plates while the stew boiled. Then, deciding not to chance carrying the plates by himself, he went looking through the equipment storage. Eventually he found a two-floor trolley, the top tray of which he put the plates. He turned down the heat on the stew to let it simmer for a while, and prepared some refreshing drinks, which he put on the bottom tray.

As soon as the stew was finished, he filled the plates and pushed the trolley in front of him into the dining room, a little before an hour had passed.

"Anyone hungry? I made a little something," he said, gesturing to the meal in front of him.

Brax understood as he initiated Tactical Retreat protocols soon his HUD displayed his mini-map with an highlighted escape route. Brax quickly bowed out before those tentacles could reach as he did so he absent-mindedly grabbed the launcher in mid motion. Soon he was bounding down the specified route the A.I. had calculated for him. It seemed his helm factored in certain terrestrial features as he found himself sliding down a hillside. He may have broke off far from the main group but it did place considerable distance between him and the creature and at a much quicker rate than on foot. As he bobbed and weaved through some thick foliage he could see the hull of the ship. It seemed this route was a quick one as well, the A.I. had it's moments.

As he approached the ship he noticed the Probes flying off in all directions with a decent concentration heading towards that creature. The Captain must have ordered them to, which would be a good idea the machines can provide better reconnaissance than the rest of them. He entered the Vladimir, the crew was definitely abuzz from the events of today quite the first day this has turned out to be. Brax headed for the Armory to dispense of his weaponry and armor, while it bares no weight on the soldier it does feel stuffy after awhile. Nothing quite like breathing fresh air through your own mouth.

Afterwards the Ex-Soldier rejoined the others in the dinning hall, awaiting to hear from the Captain. Once inside he could smell the pleasant aroma of something being cooked. It seems like Nico was up to something but what that thing was he wasn't sure. Then the Cook came in pulling along a trolley of whatever concoction he created. Brax stood up as he headed over to the trolley, it looked like some kinda of stew but at this point he really couldn't care. It smelt decent and it looked as edible as anything he's ever eaten and he's lived off of MREs. "Smells good, thanks." Brax spoke as he helped himself to a plate.

Don't have to say that again...'

And on that note, the doctor followed the crew back to the ship. Probably glad to not have a chance at wrestling the giant tentacle things, wouldn't end well, she figured. Then again, the captain ordering a retreat was probably just a delay of the inevitable and they'd be having a second encounter as soon as questions were answered.

Speaking of, she wondered what this meeting had to do with her.

"Not much, I guess..."

And as she caught the Vladimir in view, Annika paused for a second to follow the little drones flying outward and into the forest, presumably scanning for anything remotely interesting. Captain was on top of things, huh?

There wasn't much to do on the ship. Doctor's life was pretty boring when nobody was sick. Or unconscious. Or dying horribly of a gaping chest wound, and so Annika found herself wandering around the ship with mild curiosity of what the others were doing in their one hour break.

'Cook's probably making dinner. Mal's engineering. Cap's running around planning our next endeavour, and Brax is...' Busy being big and lumpy, apparently.

It felt rather depressing when Annika realised she had even less to do than a hired gun.

And after a grueling hour had almost passed, most of the time spent watching other crew members scurry about looking busy, she arrived in the dining hall looking even less ecstatic than she had been before. "So, what's that you've been brewing then?" The doctor asked as she eyed the questionable stew.

"Which one's mine?"