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Thread: [M] Galactic Empires II

  1. #61
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    "Do we know how long this is gonna take?" She turned away from the Lyran to address the group, speaking rapidly. "I mean wouldn't it be better to launch the shuttle, run away and then retake the hanger bay on some kind of signal? If you try and hold there you'll just attract more and more Berserkers."

    Gaea looked to Sayori and her eyes flared in anger for a second.

    "Thats. . what I said. Weren't you listening?"

    A hand slapped down on the womans shoulder, causing her to flinch. Davrry was suddenly behind her.

    "You weren't exactly clear, boss. Sayori raised a good point, we don't want to attract attention."

    Gaea visibly deflated, before slumping back into a chair. Davrry caught Sayori's look and shrugged.

    "If the command crew did not return, perhaps they will assume we're just trying to escape?" Iona offered. "They may not stay in the hanger deck after we depart. Or perhaps consider it a distraction and check other areas?"

    "They might." Davrry watched as Gaea, shaking her head, stood and left the room. "But I wouldn't bet on it being that simple. they'll probably stash at least a couple of drones on the deck, they aren't short on numbers."

    "We could try to communicate with the survivors," Iona suggested. "But our re-entry position will not be optimal for that."

    "That's putting it lightly" Garrick sighed. "Only direct line communications would be secure, and currently, we are in the wrong orbital position. The shuttle doesn't carry a laser powerful enough to cut through atmospherics"

    "If we do attract more of this freaks can we space them again?" She asked looking around curiously. "I mean taking the ship is very important...can we do it while taking off and get the engines going while floating around like a balloon?"


    "We'll need to vent the hanger to launch." Davrry sat in Gaea's vacated chair and put his boots up on the table, ignoring Garricks scowl. "We should be able to dock the damn thing anywhere to get back aboard. What we need to do. . . we need a beater."

    Davrry's boots came down of the table and back to the deck. "Initial orbit will just be float and wait, if handled correctly, a pocket calculator could handle that. But. . .Sayori, could we hook a drone up to Sinclair here, and have her remote pilot a shuttle as a decoy? Launch it at the same time as the stealth lander, and use it to draw out any Beserker drones floatin' around out there. And hell, that shuttle gets to die, eject some corpses, convince the bastards they got us. . ."

    Garrick nodded. "Based on our observations, it should work. Dr Sayori, if you could work with Cicero, our pilot Sinclair, and Iona, I'd appreciate it. Davrry, I think Gaea would appreciate sitting this one out. Can you lead a groundside mission?"

    "Thought you'd never ask." Davrry chuckled. "Be good to shoot something that dies properly for a change."

  2. #62
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    Iona's child eyes grew huge as she realized she was finally being paired with Cicero, the only other Sentinax who'd survived. The acting Alpha.

    Better processor. More extensive databases. Huge storage capacity! As a Beta, understood management. How would Cicero interact with her?

    Would it be... critical of her appearance? Would it accept as a speaker, assuming a form pleasing to the Biologics allowed her greater acceptance among them? Or was it aware she did it for her own... pleasure?

    Perhaps not - they were forbidden to interact directly with the network.

    Iona blinked. Was she actually contemplating trying to deceive a superior, supervisory unit?
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  3. #63
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    Davrry’s boots came down off the table and back to the deck. “Initial orbit will just be float and wait; if handled correctly, a pocket calculator could handle that. But...Sayori,”

    Sayori, who had been staring at the door Gaea had just disappeared through, jerked around at the sound of her name.

    “Could we hook a drone up to Sinclair here, and have her remote pilot a shuttle as a decoy?”

    Sayori nodded along quietly as he explained the plan, and then pushed her hair behind her ear. “I’ll need to re-map an interface disc, but we could do it.”

    Garrick nodded. “Based on our observations, it should work. Dr Sayori, if you could work with Cicero, our pilot Sinclair, and Iona, I’d appreciate it.”

    Sayori returned the nod and pushed her palms into the storage box to lever herself up. “Okay. Give me twenty minutes to get set up.”

    + + + + +

    Sayori was on her way back to the engineering bay, chewing on another cone of Sanders’ patented fried chicken, when a glance to one side caused her to slow and stop. Gaea was slumped down against the wall, beside one of the unoccupied bunks rather than on it. Sayori guessed that the bunk wouldn’t have taken the weight of her Elemental armour.

    Why doesn’t she just take it off? was the first question to ticker-tape through Sayori’s head, followed rapidly by the realisation that she hadn’t actually seen Gaea out of her armour - not in the last two days she had been with them, at least. The Elemental marine was sitting with her forearms hooked over her bent knees, head slumped back against the wall and eyes closed. Her sandy skin looked waxy.

    Sayori vacillated for a moment (Let her sleep, she won’t thank you for waking her up), but Gaea made the decision for her by opening one eye and fixing it on her. “Doc?” she questioned neutrally.

    “Umm…” Sayori said, feeling her cheeks prickle. She maintaining her awkward distance for a moment before taking a couple of steps forward to move into a more normal conversational space. “Look, I’m...sorry about earlier. I’m pretty bad for just blurting out what I’m thinking.”

    There was a long pause. "I get it. Thanks."

    For a second Gaea didn't look like she would say anything else, but then she fixed Sayori with a thousand yard stare.

    "I don't envy you, you know. I thought I would, when we woke you up. All the shit you missed. But I watch you freak out at the things I find ordinary now, I watch Winters and Sinclair claw at each other like two cats in a sack...and I realize I don't. Because we're all in this shit together."

    She leaned her head back against the wall, and closed her eyes.

    "Watch out for your decisions. Make them, by all means. But...you're gonna carry that weight."


    Sayori wasn’t quite sure what to say to that. She never particularly liked it when conversations took deep, emotional turns. She lowered herself onto the edge of the cot and held out the cone of chicken, tilting it towards Gaea. “With all due respect, you look like microwaved shit. When was the last time you slept?”

    "I get snatches. Here and there." The marine leaned forwards and took a piece of the chicken, chewed on it. "Never thought I'd get sick of fried chicken. I could strangle Sanders."

    She sighed.

    "I don't sleep well anymore. No one does. We all have nightmares, except Davrry. And I'm...in pain. Constant, low level pain, like my bones are grinding against each other without lubrication." She stretched her arms and wiggled her fingers in front of Sayori. "It’s the suit. It was never meant to spend this long active, this long integrated into a person. Or be jerry rigged half a dozen times to keep me alive, to keep it working...I couldn't tell you where the suit ends and I begin. Sometimes I look at the monsters out there and wonder if I'm all that different."


    “Well,” Sayori said, taking refuge in humour. “Unless you’re going to go all destroy all humans on us, you’re different in all the ways that count.”

    The smile flickering at the corners of her mouth died away.

    “I’ll talk to Kolvar, you can’t keep going on like this.”

    Gaea waved her hand. "Don't bother him, he's busy with people that are actually sick."

    Sayori pouted stubbornly.

    Gaea relented. "Tell you what, help get me home, and you'll have done more than anyone to help."

    Get them home. Sayori looked down at her chicken. Home had never felt further away.

    The remnants of the Elcano’s crew were worn down to the bones. After two years (two years!) of this hell, this message from the bridge might be the first real hope they had seen. Maybe the command crew were down on the surface, working on a plan. Maybe they were like their comrades in space, being slowly flensed away and clinging to life out of sheer bloody-mindedness. Maybe they were long dead, and there was no real hope at all.

    “I’m gonna fucking try.” Sayori said grimly. She laid a hand on Gaea’s armoured forearm, squeezing her fingers into the unyielding metal, and stood up to take her leave.

    If this plan with the drone works. And if Sinclair can get us down. And if Davrry can find the survivors. And if we can find a way to power up the Elcano without getting blasted by that super-cap Nikos mentioned.

    It felt as if they were scaling a mountain of ifs, and she could think of at least one more to add to the peak.

    If we can even make it to the shuttle bay.

    She felt something like humour curdling in her stomach, remembering some flippant words that another woman had spoken before climbing into her cryo pod.

    Being famous for dying on the Elcano mission is still famous, right?

    + + + + +

    After the meeting Miranda stowed her bottle of whiskey over near the crates she had been using as her makeshift home away from home. Stowed was being generous; she merely had wedged it between the crates. A low Lyran cursed escaped her lips as she thought about why she was even here. Jail would have been preferable, least then she would have an actual bed and wouldn't be hunted by those horrifying creatures. Damn Quentin for doing her a favor. From there she headed to Sayori's lab, not liking the idea of this part of the plan. Drones were for cowards and children's toys, not a seasoned pilot. On the way she noticed Gaea propped up in her suit, another reason she was glad to not be a Marine. Being cramped on a ship was better than the crap they went through.

    Sayori was digging around beneath an android’s backplate when they found her, attaching telemetry cables that looped round to the battered laptop propped on a nearby table. The table also held a visor, a pair of interface gloves, and a crushed paper cup that was spotted with grease. Sayori removed her tongue from her top lip and un-scrunched her face when she registered the three entering.

    “Hey guys.” she greeted them, and nodded towards the laptop. “Cicero, Iona, the drone’s still sync’d to my disc so I’ll need you to wipe it and write your failsafes back in.”

    "My failsafes?" Iona frowned, glancing at Cicero for permission.

    The disc was wiped ten times as she held it, then Iona created the partition, inserting her certified source for the first layer protection. Rechecking her work, she then passed the disk to Cicero for the Beta to envelope her failsafe or to insert their own partition into an envelope to be inserted into hers. Dual-layer protection would help protect the drone. But then, Cicero was a Beta, and could do better.

    “Sinclair,” Sayori said, in a voice that was civil if not particularly friendly. She gestured with a hand that was still holding a flat-head screwdriver towards the visor and gloves. “Suit up.”

    "Brought my own." Miranda said, reaching into her pocket and pulling out her own visor. "It is already calibrated to me and should interface with your system." She slid the glasses on then donned the gloves. "Let's get this shit done so I can do some real flying."

    “Okay, that might make things a bit easier.” Sayori nodded as she unpopped the cuff buttons on her overalls and rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. “Everyone’s brain sends basically the same signals but we still need to fine-tune it.”

    She took the electrode interface disc from Iona and handed it to Miranda for her to stick to her temple. Behind her the silvered drone thrummed as it booted up, still tethered to the laptop by its umbilical cables.

    “There’s a suite of haptic shortcuts programmed in,” Sayori said briskly as she bent over the laptop long enough to mash a couple of keys. “But for this I think we’ll only need direct interface...okay that should be linked to read from your disc now, I’ll just need you to make a few simple hand movements. First off, can you feel this?”

    She tapped the blade of her screwdriver against one of the drone’s sensor-coated fingertips. A vibration pad in Miranda’s gloves buzzed gently in response.

    “Yes.” Miranda said, the feeling an odd one.

    Jjang.” Sayori nodded, tossing and catching the screwdriver. “Okay, I need you to think about closing your left forefinger - you can actually move it if it helps…”

    It was the start of a simple but exhaustive tuning exercise - close this finger, close that finger, move your thumb to the side, turn your wrist left and right. Sayori was clearly in her element, alternately leaning over the laptop and digging around in the drone’s innards. Once or twice though Miranda caught her glancing at the Lyre First tattoo on her neck.

    "What are you looking at doc? Hate to break it to you but you're not my type. I prefer somebody with a spine." Miranda said placing the disks on her temple, knowing that wasn't what Sayori was looking at. The doctor's eyes were drawn to the tattoo on her neck. Miranda was used to people looking at it. That was the purpose of the tattoo, to let people know where she stood. There were two types of people who got it, those like her who wanted to make a statement and those who got it somewhere discreet, not wanting to be open about it.

    She heard Sayori sigh. The engineer shot her a look, but kept working. “I’d hate to think what you call a spine.” she replied tartly, and paused to wave the point of her screwdriver towards Miranda’s neck. “I just don’t understand why you’re running around flaunting that.

    “I am entitled to free speech aren't I? Don't you Terrains pride yourself on that?”

    “Free speech, yes.” Sayori allowed. “Hate symbols, not so much.”

    “I suppose you're wondering how someone like me ended up on this mission. You see doc, whether I'm a freedom fighter or a terrorist all depends on who's looking.”

    Sayori scrunched her nose, pretending to think. “Nah.” she said after a moment. “You’re more like ISIL or the UltraNats; pretty much everyone who isn’t you agrees that you’re assholes. Let’s just get this done. Right hand, open and close.”

    “But I suppose what you really want to know is did I set any bombs?" Miranda said, moving her fingers as instructed and looked over at the drone mimicking her movements. "The answer's no, I had nothing to do with that. I'm here because I'm being persecuted for my beliefs in Lyran independence."

    Sayori shook her head, abandoning the laptop to press her fists squarely into the work bench. “There’s plenty of good Lyrans out there whose idea of independence has nothing to do with Lyre First. Quentin Sinclair, Kalyn Severt...hell, even Davrry. He’s been through all the same shit as you and he doesn’t seem keen on bombing offices and lynching aliens. Every other Lyran can work with us all just fine, so who the fuck let you aboard?”

    "Oh you don't have a clue who Quentin is, just who she wants you to think she is." Miranda moved her hand around, watching as the drone did the same. "I'm here because the damn Cats wanted me before a firing squad, and this is the best that the great and wonderful Quentin Sinclair could do to keep her image from being damaged from yet another misguided sibling. Seems all she was able to do was prolong my execution."

    “Oh, poor you.” Sayori said with caustic sarcasm, but was cut off when Miranda made a fist and punched out at the air, watching as the drone punched a dent into the wall. The echoing clang made Sayori grimace, and spit out a burst of Pan-Pacific expletives.

    “You know what?” Sayori said after she had taken a breath. “I think you don’t believe in Lyre first so much as you believe in fuck everything. Maybe you’re a crazy racist, or maybe you’re just a lost little girl who latched onto the only people with persecution complexes bigger than yours. Better to have an identity that everyone hates than no identity at all, right?”

    She snapped the laptop closed, and killed the power to the drone before it could do more damage to itself and the surroundings.

    “I’ve got everything I need. You can go.”

    "Perhaps it would be best if you left, Pilot Sinclair." Cicero's tone was surprisingly inflected for a Sentinax. It was clear he considered that an order, rather than a request. "Rest so you can perform optimally for the mission ahead. A great deal will ride on its successful execution."

    Taking the gloves off Miranda slammed them down on the table and took a step towards Sayori, looking for a moment like she was going to slam her down just as she did the gloves.

    "You don't know anything about me, so back the fuck off." Miranda said, then pulled away from Sayori and walked out of the room.
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  4. #64
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    The sounds of heavy breathing and loud punches caught Vez attention after he had finally finished repairing the white hair girls' arm. He followed the sound thinking it would have been the Lyre woman. But he had seen her with the others and continued following the sound. He walked behind some crates and such and finds the girl punching an old bag. She kicked it several times while taking certain breathes and hits it hard from one side to the next.

    Vex grunt a little and smirked as he watched her training with just one arm. "Impressive." He broke the sounds of exhaust breathing and leather smacking. The girl stopped and looked at Vez as he stood there. His eyes wasn't torn away from her. "You remind me of my youngest." He admitted as he placed the arm on a nearby table. "He too had anger and passion." He looked over the arm for final inspections. "And he used it again'st our enemies." He looked over his shoulder. "He would have been a great chief."

    Winters stopped when she heard the Dragonoid. Standing there with sweat dripping down on her chest and arm. She was breathing heavy and did her best to slow it down. "Yeah?" She nodded back and starts her training again. "I'm always angry and I don't give a damn about other's opinions!" She grunted as her fist hit the bag. Then she turned around in a 360 spin with her foot hitting the bag. She stopped when she heard him say about his song would have been. Her head lowered and slightly looked to the old Dragonoid. "I....sorry to hear that." She sympathized for him. Then she returned to her training and continued kicking and hitting the bag.

    Vez nodded and faces completely to the woman. "Try controlling your breathing when you hit. Otherwise you'll be knocked out on your first bout."

    "I know!" She snapped back and hits it again. "My instructor back on Earth. Taught me how to fight!" She continued hitting for a while until she stopped and looked at the Dragonoid. "It took me a long time how to fight with one hand." She chuckled for a bit. "The other trainees wouldn't spar with me so the instructor ordered them to." she smiled as she placed her hand on the bag. "The look on their faces when they see a cripple fighting with one arm." Then laughed. "I never seen so many long faces since...." Her mind trailed back to her tragic accident. "Well...since before I was drafted into the military."

    Vez looked at the young woman when she paused and finds a chair to rest on. "Long history?" He asked. He wanted to know more about the woman, but also didn't want to prod old history out of her.

    She looked at the ground and wiped her sweat from her forehead. "Yeah...long history." She replied and gives the a bag a gentle punch. "But it taught me of how to choose my friends." Her eyes looked at her missing arm. Where the scar line had ended. "So...I don't have friends."

    Vez wanted to ask her about not having any friends but his head perked when he heard a sudden slam and shouting from the others. He stood up to check only to see the Lyre woman storming out of the room where the others were setting up. "She has more anger than you I'm afraid." He said softly. Feeling the white hair woman had trailed behind him and yet he was right.

    Winter scoffed and spit on the ground as she sees the Lyre. "A bitch like that can go fuck herself." She said aloud. "She doesn't under stand the meaning of working together!" She turned around to walk back to her training area. "Selfish bitches like her are gonna get us killed." She stopped and looked at her missing arm. "I know that feeling." And continued walking. "Thanks for fixing my arm! Your the best." She waved with her hand and Vez chuckled.

    "Any time....young warrior."

  5. #65
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    Speaker Iona watched dispassionately as the Lyran left, then glanced up at Cicero. It was... strange, to be so near another Sentinax in silence without network. It was like being on the ground during the war, trying to avoid detection. Now they were trying to avoid infection.

    Her human form was perfect, mimicking her cover, a Lyran child. After extraction, the base was attacked. All attempts to learn if the child survived were met with confusion by the units she inquired with - what does it matter if one biologic survived?

    She knew her preference for biological forms, especially this one, drew her censure from other supervisory units. Her designation as "Speaker" gave her the excuse of putting the biologics at ease.

    Iona cleared her throat. Not that she needed to, it was just... mimicry. "Your instructions, Beta?"

    Now she was talking, like the biologics, to a Beta. What a weird day.
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  6. #66
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    Leaving the lab Miranda was full of rage, she wanted to punch something but knew that wouldn't do anything to help. She needed to burn some of this energy, walking back into the main room she walked passed Saunder's cook station to the empty space she had been staying in. Her hand feel to the hilt of her sword as she thought about performing another sword dance. It would help to calm her down however she needed to be rested for the mission. Flying down would be a challenge and she needed to be on her best not letting anything get to her or be tried. She sat down on one of the crates and looked down at the sword. It was an interesting an interesting design and not Lyran in origin. As strange as it would sound for someone of Miranda's beliefs the sword hilt was Kel'cyre. Still looking at it Miranda thought about how she came in possession of the hilt.

    The ship observation deck was quiet. The only lights were dimmed to see a better view. The stars glittered across the vast empty space. She stood there, quietly as the table was bare but with a few items wrapped perfectly.

    The Queen of the Kel'Cyre continued gazing at the stars while the door behind her opened. Hearing the ruffle sounds was something she was use to. She remained quiet until she could hear the voice of a young woman. To her, it sounded like Quentin, her love. But she knows it was her sibling. A younger sibling with a troubled past. Taionna knew this too well for she was the one who helped placed most of the Lyran prisoners into a life of solitude behind bars.

    "I've heard Quentin had a young brother and sister." She finally spoke and slowly turned around to reveal herself. "But they didn't tell me how tough they are." She smiled. "Emylyna, Angelic of Faith, Queen of the Kel'Cyre." She walked over to another table nearby covered with refreshments of sweets, tea and coffee. "Also this is my sister...Marianna." She pointed at the dark. A figure walked out of the shadows and looked almost like Taionna, but only wearing armor and holding a rifle with both hands.

    "Sister...do you really need be armed?" Taionna asked softly with a wary expression.

    "Tai...you know this woman's history?" Marianna looked over her shoulder with a raised eyebrow. "Her background came back with a lot of questions."

    Taionna raised her hand and slightly waved. "Go and see your nephew...maybe he will teach you a thing or two about politeness."

    Marianna scoffed and looked at Miranda before taking her leave. "Yes ma'am."

    The Queen chuckled. "Sorry about that my sister likes to be protective of me since we had a...uninvited guest that stole a pod of ours...anyways." She claps her hands together. "Tea?...Coffee?" She offered. "I'm guessing with lots of sugar?" She quirked a smile.


    Walking into the room Miranda wore her dress uniform with the rank of ensign pinned on her collar, a fresh tattoo barely poking out of the collar. It was easy to tell that the uniform was new, less than a year old. On her hip she wore a ceremonial sword and an empty holster. The Kel'cyre guards had instructed them they weren't allowed to carry firearms aboard the ship. She had been assigned to be the personal pilot of a Lyran delegate as they traveled in Kel'cyre space. Taxi service mostly. She had been on a number of Kel'cyre ships and ports as the delegate conducted their business.

    Usually she kept to her herself while docked not leaving their ship except for meal times preferring not to be stuck eating rations but other than that she didn't venture around much. Least until she had been summoned by a Kel'cyre guard saying a member of the royal family wanted to meet with her. Miranda had figured it was Quentin as since leaving the Presidency Quentin spent much of her time on Kel'cyre first as the Lyran representative to the Concert and then as Secretary General. Quentin's marriage to Taionna had granted her the title of Princess Consort thus making her part of royal family. Miranda had been invited to the wedding but had refused, not liking the idea of her half sister marrying outside her race.

    The deck was dark, no doubt to allow for better viewing on the observation deck. It surprised her a bit when she heard the voice call out to her. Soft and melodic. It wasn't Quentin voice with it's distinctly aristocratic Lyran accent which Miranda shared. A figure turned around confirming it wasn't Quentin, the little light on the deck showing it was the Queen of Kel'cyre. Miranda had seen enough news feeds to know who she was. Whenever Quentin was in the feeds it seemed they always found some way to mention her Kel'cyre lover. Taionna chided another woman in the room then dismissed her after introducing her as her sister. Then she was offered a drink. "I'll take coffee with nothing in it." Miranda said, picking up that Taionna guessed that she took her drinks like Quentin did loaded with so much sugar you could hardly taste anything else. "And I know who you are Taionna." Miranda said, knowing that very few people knew her given name and even fewer were allowed to use it.


    She poured the pot of coffee into a clean cup. Then she picked up another pitcher of tea and poured herself a cup. She picked up the cups and walked over to the table standing next to Miranda. She offered the cup with a smile on her face. "Normally I would only allow friends and family to call me that...but your an exception." She turned her gaze to the stars. "I've heard you joined the military life." She takes a sip of her tea and takes a deep breath. "It's a good life to have. Especially with your skills." She smiled once more before walking over to the table to set her cup down.

    "When Quentin had mentioned about you and your brother...I did not realize." She looked to the ground and held her hands behind her back. "If I had known that he was your brother...I would have given him a lesser sentence than what was recommended...but the Charabidians aren't known to be merciful on certain occasions." She walked to a wall and leans again'st it. "So I wanted to meet you personally while I still had the chance." Taionna remembered that day of when it happened. It was her and several others who judged the lives of those who committed the crimes again'st the Concert Powers. Most have received quite a few years which also included the Ouroboros forces that had betrayed the Concert. Though the betrayal of the Dragonoids was waved as it was led by a new Clan Master. Taionna remembered his face when he learned the news of his sentence, but luckily Taionna had reminded the Charabidians a death sentence was far too harsh for another man's deed.


    Taking a sip of the drink Miranda sat down on the edge of the table. "And here I thought we were pretty much family." Miranda said, taking another drink and letting the bitter liquid rest on her tongue a moment before swallowing. Technically with Quentin and Taionna being married they were sister-in-laws though Miranda didn't know if the Kel'cyre had similar traditions. "Military service is still a requirement in the Lyran Alliance. I'm merely full filling my duty."

    She tensed at the mention of her brother, growing up Miranda had always been closer to her brother than her half sister. Not to say they were the best of friends, Cedric and Miranda had very little in common. She had always been more rebellious while Cedric always had his nose in a book or he was in his lab. Still she saw him far more than Quentin who never really seemed wanted by her father. Directly after the war she knew he had been arrested but didn't really know the reasons why other than for war crimes. She had been angry thinking the Concert was rounding people up and punishing them. Then as more information hit the news feeds she learned more about his crimes. She had a general dislike for other races but didn't necessarily want them dead. "Cedric served his country though his methods may not have been the best." Miranda said.

    She finished her cup then headed over to the window looking out at the stars. "Chance before what?" Miranda asked wondering what the meaning was. It seemed a little odd that Quentin wasn't here though she knew her sister was on the ship. Several of the Kel'cyre guards had made sure to mention it saying they could arrange a meeting if she want but Miranda had declined.


    "And a duty that is honorable to have." Taionna smiled gently and gazed back at the stars. "Your brother did his duty as everyone has...but when I read the reports of his crimes...well...let's just say I had a duty to fill out as well." She stood up straight and pulled on her dress a little after hearing Miranda had mentioned about the chance she wanted to meet her.

    "A chance to meet you before I become too busy with my own duties. My people have been looking up to me since I was given the crown. And so far rebuilding is still underway which also includes our home planet. The radiation is still a problem since most of it had become too impossible to remove. Clean waters polluted...mutated animals running amok. And the weather is more frequent than ever though it is not normal water....more like acid rain drops."

    She takes a deep breath and finished her tea. "Another cup?" She asked curiously before returning to the table. "Plus with the delegates on board, no doubt I will be busy with meetings and more meetings..." She sighs harshly. "Apparently that is all we do is talk and no action has been taken although I preferred action than words." She poured her tea slowly and placed the pitcher down. She took a step aside and offered Miranda to pour her own. "Just like when I used to chase off bandits that tried to sabotage our merchants. Destroying them one at time was so much fun." She giggled softly. "And yet...that's how I met Quentin. Wanted more action pack weaponry to use on those bastards." Her eyes slowly turned to the Lyran woman. "Sorry I get drifted off every time I think about the past."


    "Lyre used to a nation of action." Miranda said, walking back to the table and pouring another cup of coffee for herself. Since the end of the war Quentin pressed for the Lyran people to become more involved in the Concert. As the years went it felt like they were moving further away from a nation of warriors to that of politicians. When she got her assignment to ferry the delegate around her fellow pilots had been jealous telling it was a prime assignment allowing her to see much of the universe but Miranda was bored out of her mind. So far she had just been in Kel'cyre space, the delegate was slated to go into Terran space next then Charabidian space after that. She didn't want to continue and was hoping she would get another assignment soon but she wasn't sure it was going to happen.

    Listening to Taionna go on about the destruction on her planet Miranda didn't know what she was supposed to be feeling. It was widely believed on Lyre that MacIntyre and Sharplen's plan to attack the Concert was a bad choice. Taking on so much at once was more than they could handle and had brought down the entire force of the Concert on them. There were many that believed smaller more targeted attacks would have been more successful. Miranda wasn't sure, she wasn't more than a child at the time and had been swept up in the patriotism of the propaganda videos. "Now we are a defeated nation groveling for scraps from our conquerors."

    As she drank her coffee Taionna moved the conversation back to her sister. They hadn't known about Quentin's relationship with Taionna it had come to a surprise to the family when it was discovered after the war. Miranda figured Taionna was one of the reasons Quentin never came home. She looked over to the queen seeing why Quentin was interested in her. She was pretty and as much as Miranda wanted to hate Taionna having met her now it was hard to. "Ah yes Quentin's secret love affair."


    "My people are barely getting by with scraps as well." She added. "Though one of the planets we are currently using has a large land we could use to farm frequently." She wondered back to the window to look outside once more. "Once the farms are able to hold a steady income, we could start transporting food to both our colonize worlds and of course Lyre. I heard about the economy on Lyre." She looked to Miranda, "I am sorry about how it's condition is going, but please believe me...I am doing the best I can to get things on track." She sighs softly and rubbed her own neck. "I just wish things were a little more simple than complicated."

    She chuckled when she spoke about the love discretion. "Indeed, both of ours actually." She looked at her hand and sees the crystal wedding ring on her finger. "I could have been demoted about it quite several times, but we managed to make it work somehow. Still if my parents were alive they would probably be furious about it...thankfully my sister approved but still keeps an eye on my back."


    She clinched the side of her cup hearing about how Taionna was offering to help Lyre once the Kel'cyre got back on their feet. There were many losses in the war and while Lyran's were no where near those of the Concert they were struggling to find a place in the new universe. Aid was often given to them from the Concert members not heavily affected or those able to bounce back quickly. This was one of the sort of things the Lyre First movement was against, relying on the Concert. Miranda set the cup down on the table a little harder than she intended causing liquid inside to slosh out. "Lyre stood for hundreds of years without hand outs from cats and fairies. If left to our own we will stand on our own without being indebted." Miranda said, walking away from Taionna back to the viewing window.

    The door to the observation deck open up briefly filling the room with light before the door closed again. "Ah there you are. Marianna told me you were here before she took our son down to the cafeteria for some dessert." Quentin said, walking up behind Taionna and wrapping her hands around her waist and pressing a kiss to her cheek before she realized there was someone else in the room. "She however didn't mention that you weren't alone. Miranda we weren't expecting the delegation until tomorrow though with you at the helm it doesn't surprise me that you are early." She glanced between the two of them noticing the scowl on Miranda's face. "Am I interrupting something?"


    "Just getting acquainted with my new sibling." Taionna smiled as she looked over her shoulder. Her hands over hers. "Hmm, it seems Marianna knows when to take our son to get his sweet tooth taken care of." Then she giggled, "She really does spoil him." She takes a step away from Quentin before walking over to the table and picked up the small item that was wrapped neatly.

    Walking back over to Miranda she presented the small item. "A gift." She said softly. "It's a piece of the royal family heirloom...I thought it would be best to give it to the brightest pilot Lyre has to offer..." She sighs softly. "It goes to the hilt by the way." She pointed at her sword. Her eyes looked to her wife and gives a small but gentle smile. "I must be going now...do take care of yourself...please." Her eyes looked to Quentin and gives a gentle look but hurt at the same time.


    Taking the box Miranda held it as she watched Taionna leave the room, then she opened it revealing a beautifully designed sword hilt. "We can have our blacksmith's fix it onto your blade." Quentin said, resting her hand on Miranda's shoulder. "Most officers carry a custom sword. It will be a good status symbol should you choose to stay in the service." Quentin knew that Miranda wouldn't have a place in the family business, none of them would after everything that had happened during the war and after. A military life could suit Miranda and be the structure she needed. Nodding Miranda removed her sword, handing it and the box to a servant who seemed to appear out of no where."Come on, let's get something to eat. Taionna's chef is getting pretty good at making Lyran dishes. His beef wellington is almost as good as moms."



    Another round of bullets hits my skin. Well, fire away
    Cause today, I won't let the shame sink in. We are bursting through
    the barricades and reaching for the sun.

    We Are Warriors


  7. #67
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    "Your instructions, Beta?"

    Now she was talking, like the biologics, to a Beta. What a weird day.

    Cicero turned to Iona, and gestured to the remote controlled drone waiting nearby.

    "We've done as much as we can to get this unit ready. Analyse the schematics on the shuttles aboard, and assist Dr Sayori with getting this unit ready to pilot. Then prepare for a trip to the planet. Take whatever precautions required."

    Cicero clapped a hand on the smaller units shoulder, a surprising gesture.

    "You will be alone on the surface with the others. They may rely on you, in your role as a speaker. Be careful."

    +++++

    "Come on, let's get something to eat. Taionna's chef is getting pretty good at making Lyran dishes. His beef wellington is almost as good as moms."

    "Jackpot, Lyran MRE's. Beef Wellington Miranda, or you more a 'christmas turkey' girl?"

    Davrry flopped down into the copilots seat of the dropship, holding up a pair of plastic wrapped pre-prepared meals. The trip to the hanger bay had been oddly quiet, with few detours needed. They had managed to use an air vent to drop directly into the ready bay for the stealth dropship, which had still been wrapped in cellophane. From the cockpit both Davrry and Miranda could hear the others getting settled into the troop bay behind them. It had been shipped with everything you needed to launch a planetary exploration mission, including, apparently, MRE's. They knew a few beserkers were prowling around in the bay, so the next phase was reliant on Sayori getting her drone past them and into a utility shuttle.

    +The drone is in position+ Sayori breathed over the radio.

    "Confirmed." Davrry drawled into the mic. "Everyone strap in nice and tight back there."

    He killed the radio and looked over to Miranda with a sly, conspiratorial smile. "Lets see if miss clever clogs has done her job" He flicked the radio back on and selected the channel to mission control back in the lab. "This is the landing party. Plugged in and ready to go."

    +Alright landing party, this is control+ Gaea's voice was a solid, confident rock over the feed, not just to the cockpit but the bay with the rest of the party. +Miranda, get that shuttle moving. As soon as you do and you scoot it to the door, we'll pop the main hanger bay and kill the gravity remotely. The autopilot and Davrry should be enough to get your ship out, so you just worry about the decoy and making as much of a mess as possible.+

    "You heard the lady" Davrry ripped of the top of turkey MRE and sucked down a mouthful before wrapping his hands around the co-pilots flight column. "Lets get this show on the road."
    Last edited by dakkagor; 01-06-2019 at 08:12 PM.

  8. #68
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    Winter moved cautiously as she attempted to board the other shuttle. Thinking about the MRE Davvry had offered. "I don't know if it's Christmas or not but apparently this turkey isn't that special." She said softly on the intercom. "Plus it taste like ass." She stopped and looked around for any movement other than her own. She quietly boards the shuttle and finds her way to the pilot seat. She placed a device on the dash and pressed a few buttons for it to install. "Device is set and ready." She said on her link.

    "You heard the lady" Davrry ripped of the top of turkey MRE and sucked down a mouthful before wrapping his hands around the co-pilots flight column. "Lets get this show on the road."


    "Dav, I'm gonna punch you after this is over...and I'm hungry." She looked over her shoulder and see several bodies aboard. She managed to find some bodies laying around inside as through they were forced to starve to death. "I got bodies on board to act as decoys....poor bastards." She moves towards the exit door to quickly leave the shuttle. She kept her eyes around and checked her surroundings as she approached the other shuttle. "This place is starting to get on my nerves." She muttered softly.


    +++++

    Vez was relaxing himself in one of the seats as he felt the wound on his back starting to tingle a bit. He used the ointment earlier before he left and felt odd. He checked the heavy weapon he found as well. The rounds were slug and wanted to put a hole in one of the demons. He growled softly as he looked to the others. "MRE's taste like garbage...I think I rather eat the garbage."
    Last edited by MidKnight; 01-04-2019 at 07:36 AM.

  9. #69
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    Iona strapped herself into her seat, then laid her hand upon her shoulder where Cicero had touched her. She noted the ids of the nanites that were touched, and her shoulder rippled as they shifted inwards, around her core as others took their place.

    Cicero said they may rely on her as a Speaker - and said it in some seriousness. What did the Beta mean by that?

    "Ready for flight," she said. Ready for a planet that might be overrun by the things that were on board the ship. This could be very... brief.
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  10. #70
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    It was quiet in the twisting flight decks. Sayori did not usually think of herself as a superstitious person, but she refused to jinx it by adding the thought, too quiet.

    The hanger bay was quiet too. Unlike the ruined science and cryo decks, the Berserkers seemed not to have done too much damage to this area - though here and there bullet dents and raking gouges in the walls showed where the crew had fought and lost the battle to keep them out. The heat-shielded deck was brushed with wide streaks of rust-brown. Dry blood, Sayori thought, and felt an ugly shiver tingle down her back as she imagined the Collectors skittering across the floor to envelop the dead bodies and drag them away.

    “What do the Berserkers need?” she asked Davrry in a whisper.

    “Huh?” the Lyran replied, without drawing his eyes away from their constant danger-scan.

    “To replicate. I know they need…” Sayori twitched a muscle in her cheek. “Bodies...but they must need metals, plastics, oils...this place looks like it hasn’t been touched.”

    + + + + +

    The walls were sweating, slowly flaking away some of the blood-spatter. Like on the bridge, and everywhere else in the mid decks, it was warm and getting warmer. It made a twisted kind of sense, Sayori realised. If the Berserkers wanted to flush them out, they could simply run the reactor hot. With the radiator wings retracted and a few heat-sink interlocks judiciously bypassed, they could bake every surviving sapient on board long before they had to worry about a meltdown. And if her drones could operate inside a fission reactor, then the heat probably wouldn’t bother the cyborg Berserkers much.

    It meant that their friends back in the hidden mess hall were on borrowed time.

    Getting the drone to the shuttle was an uncomfortable game of stop and go. With the machine keyed to Miranda’s synapses, Sayori had to rely on its simple follow commands. Dialling down the servos in its legs had made the quarter-tonne beast a little lighter on its feet, but she still had to guide it. With Stratford in tow, Sayori made the final dash to a utility shuttle that stood untouched in one of the magnetic cradles, side ramp still down awaiting cargo.

    The interior was grimy and dust-filmed from over a year of neglect, but the control consoles flickered into life at the touch of the main power switch, and with a couple of standard haptic gestures Sayori directed the drone to sit down in the pilot’s chair.

    “The drone is in position.” Sayori breathed over the radio. “Control’s all yours, Sinclair.”

    "Confirmed." Davrry drawled into the mic. "Everyone strap in nice and tight back there."

    “MRE's taste like garbage…” Vezarres was complaining as Sayori and Winter climbed back aboard the second shuttle. Even with wings furled, the Dragonoid took up two seats. “I think I’d rather eat the garbage.”

    “Oh I dunno, last meals could be worse.” Sayori attempted to joke as they sat down. Davrry’s upbeat response to the find compared to Stratford’s and the Dragonoid’s was probably a fairly neat indication of who had been stuck on chicken rations for the last year and who hadn’t.

    Sayori pulled over one of the MRE’s, tore the foil, and teased out the cold, slightly greasy beef wellington with her fingers. She chewed on it quietly - not because she was hungry, but as a distraction from the fact that she was about to be spinning through a debris-strewn vacuum with no influence on what happened to her. They might make it down to the planet, or they might smash into some space junk and void the cabin, or they might fail to deceive the Berserkers and all die in screaming red chaos as one of them forced its way into the shuttle.

    She was almost tempted not to secure her suit helmet - that way if she was sucked out into the vacuum she would only have to panic for ten seconds or so before she blacked out with the fizz of evaporating saliva on her tongue.

    “The pastry’s a bit soggy,” she remarked, casually, “And yeah, it’d be better hot. But the flavour’s alright.”
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