[PG-13] Expendable: Gamma Moon

[Crainium]

"Prisoner 47-7606, please step into the next chamber."

Croak silently obeyed, the noises in his throat compressed by his anxiety. Once he was inside the next chamber, the door behind him closed and the door in front of him swung open. There were doors and lights and lockers with space suits. Croak croaked softly as he walked forward.

"Prisoner 47-7606, please join us in the forward compartment."

Croak held his box tightly to his chest and looked around, not sure where the Forward Compartment was. To his right was what looked like a standard, internal door with small windows and through them, Croak could make out movement. Deciding this was as good a direction as any (someone would tell him if he was in the wrong place), Croak pressed the release button beside the door and the portal opened silently.

Croak paused for a moment to inspect his fellow prisoners. His time in prison had taught him to be extremely careful around other inmates as they generally felt they had something to prove. He observed the tattooed woman smoking a cigarette and he growled, his throat enlarging slowly and then releasing in a deep *Gurrrp.* The stupid human did realize they were on an enclosed vessel, did she not? Croak would have to stay as far away from her as possible unless he wanted that stink added to his own.

The dog-man would most likely be the worst conflict, as his kind had a stronger sense of smell than the common human. They could really pick up on the subtle nuances of Croak’s musk and tended to not be happy about it. Or they liked it enough that they wanted to roll in it. Either way, this was another prisoner Croak would be avoiding. Dog men were weird.

There was a thin woman fiddling with a device on her arm. Croak was no expert on human anatomy, but this woman looked way too skinny to be healthy. She seemed locked in rapt attention to her device and Croak labeled her a space case, almost cracking a smile at his mental pun. She might be ok to stick to if he wanted company but not conversation.

The last living being in the room was the young male human with light features. Croak had often heard jokes about how ‘they all look the same to me’ in reference to other races or species and now he understood. The kid’s features were so…boring. He could easily get lost in a crowd and looked vague enough that, even while looking at him, Croak would be hard pressed to mention anything unique about him. This kid looked like the standard human model that you would buy and then customize. It was rather unsettling.

Croak’s elongated fingers tapped against his box for a moment before he entered the room, a soft *grrrrowt* sounding from his throat. He stood still as the dead and waited for further instruction, hoping the unseen drafts in the ship were not moving his scent towards the others.

[Enigma]

"Prisoner 47-7606," called out the Corporate Expert System, still on the Rand name tag, "welcome. We will begin the briefing in one half-hour. Please make yourself comfortable."

49-8750 had yet to revive, much to the system's concern. A human digitally encoded and downloaded into an android body required some precautions - especially when that body was an industrial type. Androids didn't move in their "sleep" - but humans did, quite a bit. And when they were as strong as this one was, that could lead to real damage to itself and anything or anyone around it. However, waking one suddenly could be just as bad, even under restraints.

[KaraMei]

"Mouse." One of many unofficial designations for her by the other residents of Facility 49. Kimberly acknowledged hearing this only by changing the tilt of her head, aiming her ear towards the speaker, and by pausing her calculations. "What's your special skill, then?"

She mentally scanned her memorized list of of assigned objectives and goals, and selected the mode, the task most frequently itemized. She replied in a voice barely above a whisper, speaking towards her wrist calc rather than to the other woman, "Interface with the Corporate Expert System." She pronounced each syllable precisely, not even slurring the optional one in corporate.

Having completed the protocol of answering a direct question, she resumed her entry into her wrist calc. Her ear, though, remained towards the woman, prepared for a follow up question.

[Azazeal849]

"Interface with the Corporate Expert System." Sonia noted that she pronounced each syllable precisely, not even slurring the optional one in corporate.

The taller woman gave an amused grunt, and blew out another wisp of smoke which hung in the air for a moment before being sucked away by the barge's air scrubbers.

"If you're planning to hack the robot and get out of here, you'd tell me right?"

She looked up as a low croaking noise reached her ears. It came from a blue and red amphibian with bulging, glassy eyes. Another fucking Uplift. The frog-man was staring at her with open disapproval. That would have been a dangerous move back in the complex. You didn't stare at someone unless you were looking for a fight. Respect was one of the few things left to gangers and inmates both, and they were very defensive about it. Even if they took no genuine offence, no-one wanted to be seen to just let it slide and be branded a punk.

Lucky then that they were somewhere with bigger concerns - for the moment at least. Sonia jerked her head at the amphibian in a warning move along gesture, and left it at that.

[Ma1chbox]

Caine walked through the halls of the compartment, staying mostly unnoticed by everyone, save for the expert system, which called out his prisoner number when he first walked in. This was unsurprising, as without his getup, he didn't really stand out much. He more or less just looked like an ordinary bearded caucasian male with scraggly hair, which isn't really much for catching other peoples' attention. Even his most obvious defining trait, his alloy prosthetic arm, was hidden from view from the other prisoners since it was covered by the jumpsuit's long sleeves. The hand, in turn, was hidden behind the little box of belongings he was carrying. The only other defining trait he had was the bionic eye implanted into his face, but even then, it simply looked like a normal eye with a red pupil. Not very noticeable, as you can see. All that being said, he didn't really mind. It's not like he knew any of them anyway.

His gaze zeroed in on a nice little spot in the hallway that was at least a few feet away from any of the other convicts. A perfect spot to wait as any for a man like Caine. Still maintaining a lazy but stoic walking pace, he strolled over, looking around at the people he would soon be fighting alongside as he went. Since he used to be a second-in-command in charge of a crew, he knew they would have to have some sort of synergy, or else they were, well, already dead, to put it bluntly. Summoning his previous experiences, he surveyed the other jumpsuit-clad prisoners and tried to read each one as best he could.

The first two he laid eyes upon were the two women who appeared to be in the middle of a conversation. Even by just his first impressions, he could tell that they were stark contrasts from each other. One look at one of the ladies and it was obvious that she was a run-of-the-mill tough chick. Facial tattoo, short boyish hair all slicked and styled, a somewhat weirdly angled nose, probably the result of multiple fistfights in the past, and last but not least, a little white cancer stick between her fingers. No doubt fit right in inside the prison environment. Most likely cheeky and tough to work with when part of a crew, but could surely hold her own anyway. Classic.

The other woman beside her, however, looked more like a walking toothpick. Standard prison bob, a rather ordinary appearance, if a bit unflattering, blank face. Unassuming and most likely passive, probably easy prey for the prison alphas. For lack of a kinder word, probably useless in a combat team at first glance, but proves everyone wrong sometime later when anything involving lots of thinking comes up. Clearly a brains-over-brawns kind of person, no question about that. Hell, the lady even has a goddamn calculator grafted onto her arm. If that doesn't scream 'smart', nothing else will.

Looking the other way, he saw another of his would-be teammates. "Oh great. A young'un." Caine said to himself in his mind. The blondie looked like he was just fresh out of high school. Didn't even have facial hair to boot. By some miracle, he managed to looked even more non-descript than Caine did right now. Well, if only the teen would wipe that blank, angsty look from his face, that is. Kids like these, the cowboy never liked to work with. All bark and no bite, so to speak. Then again, he is in a high-security prison like the rest of them, so there should be something useful about him. The quality of his performance remains to be seen.

Next up on the judging roster is the big dog. Black and white, nice and fluffy. Has an eyepatch. For some reason, Caine is reminded of a bunch of snakes whenever he looks at him. Cool. From what he could gather, the big scruff was, well, pretty much a dog, only bigger, bipedal, and able to talk. The cowboy is amused.

Yet another future crewmate was another female. She was rather dark-skinned, unlike the others. Her curly hair was cut short and dyed blue, making her stand out quite a bit from the rest of the other inmates. She looked young, most likely in her prime. There wasn't much else Caine could figure out about her from first glances. She may stick out in a crowd, but as to what she can do? Eh, well, he'll find out sooner or later. With nothing else to say, he watched her walk into the room with the showers before looking over at the last guy.

Last but not the least, Kermit the Frog. Well, frog-thing, anyway. He... uhh... Well, Caine was stumped with this one. Most probably some sort of escaped experiment. Anxious, most definitely a lone wolf-- er, frog... or whatever. He watched him clutch his ditty box to his chest, like he was afraid someone might nick it from right under his nose. Pretty creepy-looking, definitely slimy, and stunk the place to high hell. The bright colors look pretty, but something tells Caine not to touch the guy without gloves on. Definitely a frog, alright. That said, he didn't really bother Caine that much. Life as a mercenary and a pirate didn't exactly let him choose who he worked with and/or fought against, and he's definitely worked with and/or fought against worse than a literal frogman.

Aaaaaand that's the last of them. A motley crew indeed. Whether they'd succeed in the mission or not, well, that remains to be seen. As far as Caine was concerned, as long as he was alive, he didn't really care too much about what happened to them.

Just as he finished examining the other inmates, he reached the little nook he was walking to in the first place. Not one to waste time, he quickly slumped back on it and rolled up his sleeves, revealing a toned, muscular right arm, and more importantly, a matte gray prosthetic left arm. With a few swift motions, he flipped open his ditty box, popped a cig in his mouth, and lit it. Now the waiting game begins.

[KaraMei]

"If you're planning to hack the robot and get out of here, you'd tell me right?" A follow up question came in just as her probability calculator had predicted.

"That process would require me to interface with the Rand module. I am tasked to interface with the Bones, Scotty and Spock modules." Kimberly gave no indication of any opinion as to the wisdom of such a plan or its odds of success.

Without looking away from her arm module, Kimberly turned her head to point an ear towards the Corporate Expert System as it welcomed Prisoner 47-7606 into the compartment. She adjusted her countdown timer estimate from thirty three minutes to thirty minutes, plotting that value at the peak of a standard bell curve for probability. She continued looking at her calc, and could observe most of the compartment in her peripheral vision. Several other prisoners were milling about, including an amphibian uplift entity that had just entered.

The woman who had asked questions redirected her own focus to this entity. As such, the probability of further follow up questions reduced from eighty five percent to fifty five percent, still high enough to engage alertness protocols. Not having an established protocol specific to amphibious entities, Kimberly defaulted to standard procedures for nonaggressive entities and ignored both it and the odor already accumulating around it.

[Splat]

The latches on Rigel's conspicuous pod clicked open to reveal his bulky metallic body. The light on his "face" flickered alive, illuminating with a purple glow. As Rigel's conciousness woke up (by human standards), he stepped out of the locker and observed his surroundings. Looking down to ensure his machinery was in order, he sighed. Apparently one of the prison guards thought it would be "funny" to paint a smiley-face in bright orange paint across his chest. As his circuits registered the angry emotions, he decided it would not be the best idea to have an outburst in this environment, especially given the "security collar" that has been attached to his neck, so he controlled himself for now.

His heads-up-display immediately scanned all of the individuals in the room, recording their biological data and storing it within his memory. Rigel's personality, however, had different thoughts about the motley crew.

Many of the prisoners scattered about the airlock were human, at least mostly, and many of which the android had seen in passing during his time at the facility. But there were several other interesting personalities aboard. A canid, as Rigel was somewhat irked to discover, and a humanoid-frog creature. The android's scanners also picked up another mechanical lifeform nearby, although he was surprised to note that it felt more human than machine. He ignored the chatter of the AI and proceeded to gather up his meager belongings. The box contained very little, only the materials necessary to sustain his systems off-world.

Rigel moved casually towards the frog-man, very glad he did not have a sense of smell judging by the other's reactions. He was eager to learn more about this odd creature, as he had never encountered such a strange combination of DNA.

"Excuse me, frog-man." His machinery hummed as the high British voice eminated from inside. "You are quite fascinating. It would... please me... to study you further." Although Rigel rarely felt pleasure, he used the word as humans would, hoping it would make him more approachable. However the long pause he took to register the phrase probably countered that fact.

[AngelDellaNotte]

After her shower, Ivy felt better to have the feel of the cyro-pod off of her. She changed into the new jumpsuit, still orange. Really what was with the corporation and this color? If they wanted people to stand out there were plenty of other colors to choose from yellow or maybe white. Least the white would be easier to keep clean. She grabbed her ditty box finding her books, glasses and ommi inside. She had requested her portable analyzer and her glock, but neither were there. They most likely would not receive any weapons until they arrived at their destination. She exited the bathroom area looking around seeing several more members of their party. The canine and the frogman interested her though the frogman had a rather unpleasant odor to him. There was a android there as well not looking to be one of the prison bots.

She recognized the two woman from prison not that she had any personal dealing with either of them. While at the prison Ivy had mostly kept to herself, partly on her own not wanting to mingle with anyone else instead spending time with her books. Though the true reason was there wasn't many people who wanted to associate with the crazy woman. When she first arrived at the prison she was hassled a bit by the old timers at least until her case hit the news wave then she was left alone. Several of the prison gangs had tried to recruit her though she had no desire to join.

Ivy walked over to the two woman, moving past the tough looking one and taking her cigarette. A normal person might think this was a bad idea but not Ivy as she sat down next to the smaller woman. “You'd have a better chance striking up a conversation with a service bot. Ain't that right mouse?” Ivy said, taking a drag off the cigarette and wrapping her arm around Kimberly.

[Azazeal849]

The tattooed woman sucked the inside of her cheek, her expression oddly neutral.

"Hey, Lady Blue." she addressed Ivy. "I give you respect and you give me. Just 'cause you're not in the complex any more doesn't mean you can break rule number one and start taking people's stuff without asking."

[Enigma]

The Corporate Expert System turned, considering the table the three women were sat at, then started walking over.

"Just to be clear," The Rand module said, "Currently we are orbiting Lyca IV's third moon, Gamma, in a prison barge. This barge has no engines or navigation system. Life support, generators, and the basic command system are in sealed compartments. As a precaution, the Omega Protocol is enabled. Should the barge's command system detect a security breach, this barge will self-destruct."

"There is a drop ship pod currently docked on the end of this barge, its flight path was pre-programmed for landing near the site we have been tasked to investigate. If the drop ship pod should significantly deviate from landing on Gamma, there are two Corporate Frigates standing by to destroy the pod. If the pod should lift from Gamma without my authorization, the pod will again be destroyed. I therefore recommend that everyone be on their best behavior."

"To help with that, I am opening the buffet station."

At the front of the compartment, under the main screen, a long cabinet slid out of the wall. The first location on the left held disposable dinnerware - plastic food trays, bowls, cups, utensils, napkins. The middle section held standard breakfast fare - scrambled eggs, sausage patties, rolls in plastic packaging, while the final station on the right was beverages, individual cereal packets, and various condiments.

A second panel opened on the wall above the utensils, loaded with sealed meal packs for those with more specialized diets in individual slots with a thumb reader.

"For some of you, this is your last opportunity until we return to eat something that isn't inside a foil packet."

The Corporate Expert System paused at the women's table, but instead of Rand, it was Spock who spoke. "Do you have a question, Ms. McDonnough?"