[M] The Andromeda Federation (IC)

[Highland Sniper]

019 sat in the galley, or dinning area, eating some more rations. She seemed to eat half as much as everyone and had just as much energy.
She had probably been all over the ship at least 5 times over the past week and a half. It was nice being able to move about freely. The crew seemed nice, and she was able to learn their names, though Skylar was the one that put her at ease.

[Kaptain Panty]

Zyaust-jecant stood in their office, still slightly hazy from the 'Minds-Eye' powder that still lingered in their suspension fluid. After finding the wreckage and the ensuing fiasco, they'd been sprinkling the drug into their nutrient canisters. At a strong dose, Minds-Eye made you lucid dream. Their monk parents used it to "free the mind from the body" when their willpower was lacking or they wanted to REALLY be out of the physical realm for a while. Zyaust-jecant themselves were an infrequent user of the stuff, typically only using it when they needed to de-stress. They also used it when they were very bored with nothing to do and their imagination wasn't coming up with anything particularly interesting.

Zyaust-jecants concentration wasn't what it could be, and their mind kept trying to wander off more than usual, but they predicted it wouldn't be too much of an issue. They'd looked up any legal trials and tribulations they'd have to go through during the week. They'd dragged out the necessary documentation and typed up a little cheat sheet for them self. They were looking at the documents and sheet cheat now, their three heads leering over paperwork spread out over their desk next to the row of filing cabinets. A hovering hand occasionally shifted the papers round as they read through them. A music player, probably pilfered or requested from Tyler's stock at some point, was reciting one of the idols (or popstar or singer or whatever they damn were) songs. They didn't know which one, it was just meant to be background noise for their wandering mind to bounce off of and back into their own skull.

A crackling in the radio got their attention. That crackling, words and sounds mangled by the poor interpretations of crude computers. A thought which was less relevant than the words turned into a meaningless mass of sound by their lack of concentration. Well they could wing it. Probably just a greeting of some sort. They shifted through their documents until they found what they needed – planet name, and what they were here for. Document in unfolded back arm hand, they span in the spot before heading towards the com panel. The other back arm unfolded and held down the 'send' button.

'[CALM/FRIENDLY] Hello Drunaak. This is captain Zyaust-jecant of the Falcor speaking. We have two serious incidents to report. A ship, unknown origin, has been wrecked by a Tek Haxaar raid. Whilst investigating the wreckage, we have found a Tek Haxaar and are currently holding them in custody. We await your decision.'

[Enigma]

Sirc scowled. For such an old machine, you wouldn't think it would produce so many records that it was still löodybí transferring to the data crystal! The technician who'd checked out the autodoc for her when she boarded told her that it didn't support the modern compression and encryption mode, so it would take longer for it to process records.

"This löodybí long?" the Draconian grumbled, irked. She still only had a preliminary species package once it was done, along with the samples. It would take the Central Banks minutes to determine if this was a known species or not - and if it was not, then her name, the ship and crew would be forever listed as the discoverers. That and 10 creds would get you an expensive cup of coffee.

She sighs deeply, feeling the air flowing into her lungs - and smelling nothing. The air held no character, no nuances, no subtle indicators that she might add, only what the machines told her after analysis. Perhaps if the löodybí alien would humor it by climbing into the autodoc again, but it refused, so how instead of more direct scans, she had to work off of the original data from when it was dying and the limited testing range of the medscanner.

And then there was the other patient, the Tek Haxaar. Its injuries precluded her tranquilizing it, and like her, it was missing the smell of its queen but growing more aggressive. If they didn't get it off the ship in the next 48 hours, it was likely to become violent - or sedated.

Her queen loved her Tek Haxaar steaming on the back shell with a citrus MFG dressing, but all she could taste was ashes now. Still, her crewmates might enjoy it - but they'd probably insist on turning the body over to the authorities.

[Azazeal849]

When the Falcor dropped from FTL, Pedro was busy updating the ship’s schematics, striking lines through the holograph and adding new ones to mark their latest round of repairs and tinkerings. The ship interrupted his labours by pushing a screed of new positioning data into his head, along with a buzzing prompt to reset their course from cruise to orbital.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.” the pilot admonished the ship, pausing briefly to massage an eye socket before swiping away the hologram and sliding out of his chair to head towards the bridge. He cursed as he tripped over a box of tools that Tink had inexplicably left sitting by the door.

“We’re here!” he called out as he passed the galley, expecting that Skylar and Nineteen - the direct translation of their alien survivor’s name, or so Skylar had said - would still be in there together. Nineteen seemed more comfortable around the celebrity than around the rest of them.

[Highland Sniper]

Nineteen looked over with the last bit of ration still sticking from her mouth.
Hey, she projected in her crude understand of the common trade. Outpost? she inquired to make sure she understood that that was were they were.

She sucked in the last of her rations and chewed it before turning to Skylar, who seemed to have a way of understand her that no one else did. So we're dropping of this... Haxar? she asked, not sure of the wording. She had heard the name of the other survivor a few times in passing, but wasn't really sure.
She had only seen it even once or twice on the ship and little else. From what she understood, it was that thing that attacked her ship with some others. She had been stuck in that room since before they had boarded as far as she knew.

[Yggdrasil_Hugger]

The voice on the other end of the radio inhaled sharply. There was a pause of silence, then the voice came through again.

“A, uh, Tek-Haxxar you said? Give us one moment, please.” The radio went silent again, this time for several minutes. When it finally returned, the speaker was different. Deeply voiced, with the rumbling, purring quality of a Nautono.

“Greetings, Captain Zyaust-Jecant. My name is Commander Eeklik’oa. I’m the person currently in charge of Drunaak Outpost. If what you say is true, we have a much larger situation on our hands than anyone would like. Go ahead and proceed to Landing Pad 13, the location of which is being sent now. Get the Tek-Haxxar ready for transport and we’ll meet you at the Landing Pad. As Captain, you’ll have to sign a few things, but we should be able to get you spaceborne in a few standard hours. Thank you for your cooperation.” The radio went silent. On the displays, both the one in front of Zyaust-jecant and the one in front of Pedro, a red dot flared to life on the map of Drunaak, indicating Landing Pad 13.

It was a short trip in orbit to the landing pad. The Falcor passed over a heavy, wet jungle, then a glittering teal sea. When it crossed over land again, it was streaking through the atmosphere above hard-baked red desert, which transitioned to prairie, then craggy mountains. Finally, the Falcor set down on a large metal pad in the midst of a temperate rainforest of towering red-barked trees. On the edge of the pad, a tall Nautono man stood in Federation uniform, flanked by a squad of blaster-wielding soldiers.

[Enigma]

Sirc sighed as the ship landed. On the Queen's ship, they might go into an asteroid repair bay, but since losing the home world in that mysterious way, they'd never risk a queen on a planet again. Still, this crew wasn't Draconian and there was no Queen to risk.

She held her reports on both the alien known as 19 and Tek Haxar, so that the authorities could check them - on two separate data crystals. Sirc sighed - data crystals on board were in short supply, she hoped they could pick up a block of them here.

Still, it was clear that the Tek Haxar was the one they wanted to see first.

[Moonlit_Fae]

As the ship landed, one of the plants Ayo was replotted fell to the ground. "Gurglits.." , she swore in her native tongue as she began to pick up the pieces of the pot and sweep up the dirt. The Zalmade gently placed the plant in a terrarium, making a mental note to come back to this project later. There were more important matters at hand right now. When the Fed was involved all were to show up. She was sure all of them would be questioned about the events that occured with the wrecked ship and their two new crewmates.

Ayo put on her special suit that helped keep her body in the right temperature and humidity so she did not dry up. HEr pistols were still on her belt. She would only remove them if ordered to. But she had learned the hard way to not be armed. On the way to the bridge she passed the mess hall and bumped into Pedro. She smiled when she saw him. "You know, your awful landing cost me one of my plants."

[Alura]

"Is it edible?" Tink asked as she passed Ayo, always willing to help dispose of extra flora from the Zalmade's shipboard greenhouse.

Grinning lopsidedly at the pair still in conversation, she moved past them to collect the last of what she needed for their arrival. When she reached the bridge, she stooped to scoop up the toolbox left in disarray and stumped reluctantly to disembark. A rucksack like mechanic's bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers tightened on the handle of the battered box as she caught sight of the uniforms near the Falcor. Her throat tightened dryly and images of House soldiers flitted across her memory.

She scanned the area for jumpsuits, signs of inspectors or other engineers who might expect to make the rounds. Checking the ship was fairly standard, but she had no interest in letting some outpost Fed gimmer put their regulation gloves on her modifications. She scratched at her neck and squinted at their surroundings.

Coughing faintly she croaked out to no one in particular, "Nice trees."

[Azazeal849]

Nineteen looked over with the last bit of ration still sticking from her mouth. Pedro tried not to chuckle at the sight.

Hey, she projected in her crude understand of the common Trade. Outpost? she inquired to make sure she understood that that was were they were. Pedro blinked slightly too hard, still getting used to Nineteen's method of communication. You heard it and at the same time you didn't hear it, like a particularly vivid thought, only your inner monologue had randomly decided to start using someone else's voice. Even for a man who was used to the Falcor's computer beaming information directly into his head, it was an odd sensation.

He shook off the feeling and nodded to the alien. "That's right, the outpost." he confirmed, smiling. "Stick with Skylar, this hopefully won't take long."

* * * * * *

The landing struts extended like spreading fingers, and the Falcor settled down on them, jets of vapour slashing from its vent nozzles. Steam rose from the tarmac of the landing pad, mixing into the thick jungle air. Up on the bridge, Pedro powered down the ship and flipped the interlocks before hurrying forward to meet the others at the landing airlock in the vessel's nose. On the way he bumped into Ayo. She smiled when she saw him. "You know, your awful landing cost me one of my plants."

"Did it?" the pilot replied, frowning. "Huh. I'll have to ask Tink to give the gravity dampers another kick."

As if summoned, the Falcor's ratty little engineer appeared at the door, her ears pricking up at the mention of broken plants. "Is it edible?" Tink asked as she passed Ayo, always willing to help dispose of extra flora from the Zalmade's shipboard greenhouse.

"I wish I had your metabolism." Pedro mused as he leaned his shoulders back against the bulkhead. "I might have grown a bit taller!"

Grinning lopsidedly at the pair still in conversation, Tink moved past them to collect the last of what she needed for their arrival. Pedro paused to peer up through the airlock's porthole window, which stood about a foot above his head height, and was already beginning to mist up with condensation. He could see the trunks of reddish trees, climbing up and up beyond the range of his vision.

"Anyway," he said, segueing into the Zalmade language as he returned to their previous topic of conversation. "Sorry about the plant. I'll see if I can find you a new one out there."

By the time Tink returned the Falcor had finished its cooling cycle and began to disengage the locks on the door. As the landing ramp folded down, the warm alien air rolled in, smelling of rain and thick, cloying nectar. The nose of the ship and the tree canopy above sheltered them from any direct sunlight, but Pedro could already feel the heat. Alien insects buzzed loudly, competing with the steady tick of updates from the idling Falcor. A dozen armed humanoids were standing at the far end of the landing platform.

Tink scratched at her neck and squinted at their surroundings. Coughing faintly she croaked out to no one in particular, "Nice trees."

It was hard not to feel the same unease. The intertwining leaf canopy, the close-pressing tree trunks and the heavy buzz of the insects suddenly felt very oppressive. Even the wet air felt heavy on his skin. Pedro turned his head, very slightly, to speak into the mic pinned to his collar.

"Cap?" he called, hoping that Zya was already with Sirc and Kzznikkt. "You bringing the Tek?"