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Thread: [M] The Andromeda Federation (IC)

  1. #111
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    Zyaust-Jecant listened to the instructions in silence. The screen on the coms panel switched to a map of the planet below them – Zyaust-Jecant paid little attention to it. That was a concern for the pilot. Muting the out-going communication, with a few more button press's they were broadcasting over the Falcor's speaker system. Nothing but a low static hiss seeped from the speakers as Zyaust-Jecant briefly forgot what they were doing before their synthetic voice began talking.
    '[MILD AGITATION/TIRED] We're about to head down planet-side. Get ready to run through the motions. I'd like to say that we could find something pleasant to do here after the Tek Haxxar business is done, but we've got a schedule to keep. Skylar, keep our new friend out of the way.'
    They went to cancel the broadcast, but something made them pause. They'd forgotten something. Something about...019? Was that their name? That was a designation, not a name. But how did a name differ from a designation? And a designation was numbers, numbers were symbols, drifting...
    They metaphorically shook their head. With clarity restored, they remembered what they had forgotten – they hadn't actually mentioned the presence of the other survivor in the transmission. And now they were thinking about it, they were inclined to keep the other survivors' status a secret. They had no idea who this 019 person was, and most importantly, what they wanted. A communications barrier, being high, and having any moment of lucidity occupied by legal preparations didn't let Zyaust-Jecant inquire or consider about such things. Oh, whatever. They'd just have to ask now and figure something out quickly. Now where was 019? Bah, they'd just broadcast over the entire ship, it didn't matter if the crew had an idea of what they were planning.
    '[SERIOUS/CALM] 019, this might be painful for you to recall, but I haven't actually mentioned that you were a survivor on board the wreckage. Do you want this mentioned? You are liable to be questioned, and as we don't know what species you are or where you're from, you are also liable to be put into protective custody. They'll try to find out where your home is and send you back there, or try to find a new home for you.'

    -------

    019 listened as her number came up. It was all she knew, but she wanted to be rid of it. She listened to that mechanical voice only made more so by the ship's internal comms, only understanding a few words and had only a glimmer of an idea what the rest meant.
    She looked over at Skylar and broadcasted with some hint of concern in her face and the message she sent. Her ears and tail twitched irritably at still not being able to understand everything.

    What’s he asking me? She asked him, trying to get more information about what was going on.
    She still only knew a little trade after all. She only had a few weeks to learn what she had at this point. Half of it was gibberish to her, but she still understood that it was a question concerning what she wanted and what the outcomes might be. She just didn’t understand enough to make out what.

    Receiving the translation, 019 reached out with her mind, to try and reach that odd machine man, sending him the broken message of no. Hidden.

    ------

    Zyaust-jecant wasn’t quite ready for the intrusion upon their thoughts. They probably never would. It spurred an intense revulsion in them that they were quick to try smother with such thoughts as “019’s means no harm by it,” “019 seems like a fine sort of person,” “019 doesn’t deserve hate.” But the sickening feeling lingered. On the horizons of their subconscious, the instinctual segments of their brain screeched for the mind violating things death. Eradication. Cessation of everything and anything like it. The drug still lingering in their system wasn’t helping keep such a hateful thing quiet in the thought council of their mind.

    Oh boy. This was going to be a long day.

    ‘[SERIOUS/MILD-AGITATION] As you desire, 019. Stay in the ship and behind closed doors until we’re back up in space. Skylar, you help with that. We can discuss what we can do for you later.’

    They went to switch to broadcasting over the entire ship again, and remembered that they were already doing that. Seems being lazy had made things quicker this one time.

    [SERIOUS/MILD-AGITATION] Alright crew, I want no mentioning of 019, the survivor who isn’t the Tek Haxxar, to the Federation authorities. They should be with Skylar, so point any Feds away from their room if you can. Otherwise, let’s get this over with.’

    Zyaust-jecant turned off the intercom and gathered the necessaries and put them in a courier style bag that they slung around the plating of their neck-guard. And then there was nothing to do but wait for planet-fall. A free hand opened a draw full of personal items, and hovered above it’s contents. They didn’t need to look to know what was in it and where to put their hands, they just needed to follow the outline of the drawer, which the pressure sensors could at least pick up. After a few moments of thought, they pulled out a technical manual for the ABMaS. Such dull things tended to steady their minds and thoughts.

    ------------

    Only really understanding a few words still, 'stay, ship, doors, Skylar,' and 'you' were the easiest to understand.
    It sounded like she wouldn't be able to go out with everyone else, but she would be staying on the ship with Skylar, so it wasn't all bad. Still, her ears dipped ever so slightly with disappointment when hearing the man speak to everyone else and included 'room'.

    She waited on Skylar and then went to their room to see what they could do. She wondered if she could make music like he did.

    ------------------

    An inexact amount of time passed. Zyaust-jecant could have lived an entire life-time in their mind-space, but they were doubtful that they were adept enough at mental delving to do something like that just yet. Wherever their mind had went, and whatever time had transgressed, it was all nothing now, the memory of it having leaked into oblivion, if the memory even existed in the first place. Something was in their hand. The technical manual. They slid it back into their draw full of personal memories and entertainments, and felt for the documents bag that should be around their ‘neck.’ It was still there.

    A voice rang out. From where? No one else was in the room. The coms panel was dormant. A pulsing nerve and a flashing heads-up display informed them that the voice was coming from their internal radio. It was Pedro. Inquiring about the Tek Haxxar.

    ‘[CALM] I think it best to let Federation security take the Tek Haxxar from their holding cell. They will be better armed then us, more of them than us, and trust themselves to escort a potentially dangerous captive more than us. I also trust a security force to be a better escort than myself and the doctor.’

    They spurned their host-bodys servos into whirring motion. They stomped out of their office. They stomped through the Falcor’s halls. And then they stomped until they got to the airlock. Zyaust-jecant paid no heed to most of the crew already being outside when they had finally trundled up - such a matter of dignity was not to be addressed now.

    As they left the ship, they noticed the thick trees. With a few nerve twitches, they brought up the humidity level readings. Their three heads extended out from their alcove; the middle one pointed towards the security force, whilst the other two extended to either side, taking the sight of the planet in. If only they were in the organic simulacrum now. They would be able to feel the moisture on their skin. Smell the water-heavy air. Breath in something that reminded them of home.

    But they were in the unfeeling and tireless shell built for sleepless days of work. And their work had yet to end. Their middle head focused on the armed beings in front of them.

    ‘[FORMAL/CALM] I presume you are the armed escort for the prisoner. They are in a makeshift holding cell upon the ship, in the locked door in the living quarters. I would prefer, and I’m sure you would prefer as well, for armed soldiers to escort the Tek Haxxar from the very beginning. There’s no need for amateurish hand-offs.’

  2. #112
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    Commander Eeklik’oa nodded, his lon shifting like a bundle of ribbons. He strode forward, waving his team forward. As the armed team filed into the Falcor, he turned to the Captain.

    “So, tell me, how did you manage to capture a member of one of the most feared, violent, bloody species this side of the Milky Way?” As he spoke, another person joined him on the platform. Dressed not in combat fatigues, but rather, a more officious uniform, the Xtheno newcomer carried a handheld device with a slot for a data crystal. A set of reading glasses perched on their nose.



    Inside the ship, the team consisted of 12 members of various species, each in rainforest camouflage and wearing a yellow arm band around their upper arm, just below the shoulder. Most wore helmets, though one removed hers with a hissing noise. Holding it under her arm, she tapped Tink on the shoulder. She was human as well, with dark brown skin and short, black hair.

    “You and the rest of the crew may need to remain out of sight. If the prisoner is angry, they may attempt to strike out against your group.” Once she was sure Tink understood, she put her helmet back on and filed through the hallway with the rest of the squad.

    Kzznikkt was buzzing like a wasp in a cup. She flew around her prison, ripping at everything inside. There were already a few dents in the walls. As the squad appeared in the window, she only grew angrier. She cursed loudly in her insectine language, exuding rage pheromones so thick, even the humans could smell them. With the tap of a button, the door slid open. Kzznikkt lunged toward the leader of the squad, but a blast of bright blue energy fired from her blaster. Kzznikkt instantly slumped to the floor motionless. The rest of the squad picked her up and carried her out of the Falcor. The whole experience only lasted a few minutes.
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  3. #113
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    The draconian sighed allowing her shoulders to sag as the Tek was removed from their ship. That was one burden off their shoulders.

    Of course, they'd expect Sirc to turn over his medical records, and then they could handle the business of a new unlicensed crewmember. Assuming they wanted to be a crew member.
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  4. #114
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    "Cap?" he called, hoping that Zya was already with Sirc and Kzznikkt. "You bringing the Tek?"

    The glint of spectacles caught the corner of Tink's eye and with a gruff admonition to Pedro and Ayo to 'keep your eyes on that shifty-looking Xtheno one', she tapped a hand against their backs as she skimmed behind them on her way to the ship with an odd-looking tool that resembled wire cutters appearing in her hand from the dented toolbox. The room they had given the Tek was tantamount to a prison cell, but the door was sometimes a little sticky and in case it gave any trouble she wanted to be nearby to get them off-board as quickly as possible. She'd have no ferreting around unsupervised under the guise of finding tools on her watch.

    Knuckling two fingers to her forehead to acknowledge Captain Zya and nodding to Sirc, the squirrely mechanic ghosted after the boarding team, her mouth set in a neutral line and her eyes darting through them as she led them toward the holding bay. Bending to set her toolbox by the control panel at the door, Tink was surprised at a tap on her shoulder. She glanced up into the face of another human, albeit a much prettier and refined one from the looks of it. The mechanic rubbed her grease-smudged cheek against the material at her shoulder and ran her gloved fingers through her hair unconsciously. She gaped a few moments before she realised she hadn't actually said anything in response yet. Flushing faintly she emitted an awkward noise that might have been an effort at a laugh and managed a, "S-sure... Right, right. I've already entered the code, you'll just need to hit that button. Th-this button. Here." Furrowing her brows and giving her head a small shake in horror at her own ineloquence as the woman replaced her helmet, she pointed at the tool box and flailed an arm at the door. "Sticks sometimes... h-here."

    Practically throwing the wirecutters atop the toolbox, Tink scooted down the corridor and into the room where 019 and Skylar had taken shelter. She stood for a moment with her back to the door, forehead resting on her balled fist as she considered whether that had seemed suspicious at all. "N-no, probably fine... Probably fine." She whispered under her breath.

    Scrounging in the mechanic's bag still slung across her shoulder, she produced two hand-sized orbs, she gently tossed one to both 019 and Skylar along with a pair of dampening plugs for their ears. She jerked a thumb towards the corridor and mimicked slapping her hands together in case someone opened the door. Or at least that's what she intended to indicate.

    She cracked the door in order to peer out at the sound of a blaster being fired, watching the slumped body of their insectoid prisoner being carried out. Tapping her fingers to her lips in a reminder to be quiet until the Feds were clear, Tink vacated the room. She looked after the departing soldiers and swung her head back towards the cell. On the excuse of collecting her tools, she wandered into the Tek's cell and found the scent of pheromones and the sharp prick of blast energy still lingering in the air. Looking over her shoulder, she checked around the room for anything curious or useful that might be taken for Falcor before the Feds had a chance to pilfer it. Maybe more of that golden stuff that Ayo seemed to covet?

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  5. #115
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    019 looked over at Tink, leaning her head to the side in curiosity before quickly catching the ball and other items in slight surprise. She had no idea what these were for at all,
    What for? she asked Tink as she hefted the objects.
    Tink's odd hand motions didn't give any explanation at all.

    Her keen ears picked up the blaster fire from outside and she jumped, and he nose picked up the scent of hormones from that giant bug as soon as Tink opened the door back up. She rubbed her half snout at the offensive smell as her hackles started to rise.

    She made to follow before being held back by Skylar with a small warning to stay put.
    019 sat ready to pounce on anything that seemed hostile, her ears laid back and her tail twitched irritably.
    Stark, the name given to my ancestor for a feat of bravery. It means Strength, or Strong.
    The motto give: fortiorum fortia facta (made stronger and braver)

    I say, let us all be fortiorum fortia facta.

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  6. #116
    Skull 'Ead Kaptain Panty's Avatar
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    Zyaust-jecant middle head followed the troopers as they moved, and then the side heads, until they were entering the ship. A pang of guilt, regret, apprehension. Was it right to bring the Tek Haxxar here, to what might be their death? It was out of their hands now, but such thoughts always provided little condolence in the moment. Their heads span in their mounts to refocus on the commander in front of them.

    '[FORMAL/CALM] The word/message capture seems inadequate. We picked up a distress signal. It lead to a wreckage which we later found out to have been subject to a Tek Haxxar attack. Some of the more adventurous crew members investigate the wreck, and inside they find an injured Tek Haxxar. They were given the choice to bleed out on a damaged hulk or receive medical care and be put into our custody. The Tek Haxxar chose life.'

    An ugly sound of searing heat and death echoed from the internals of the Falcor. All of Zyaust-jecant's heads instinctively turned towards it. They paused. But the sound only happened once. The apprehension turned to sadness whilst the guilt and regret lingered, if perhaps stinging a bit more sharply now. It seems this was the Tek Haxxar's death. Questions such as what Zyaust-jecant could have done differently and how things could have turned out began their assault on the shores of their mind; their consciousness tried it's best to not be overwhelmed. It would be a long struggle that would need a quiet room to overcome.

    Their heads turned back towards the commander. They said nothing, awaiting for the commanders reply, and a conversation that was hopefully filled with boring bureaucracy to distract themselves with.

  7. #117
    The Replicant
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    “Keep your eyes on that shifty-looking xtheno one.” Tink murmured as she slipped away.

    The shifty-looking xtheno one was an austere example of the amphibian species; one pair of arms folded, the other with their finger-pads wrapped around some kind of data reader. The glasses perched against their broad, flat face gave them the aspect of a watchful exam invigilator. He (she? It was difficult to tell with xtheno) blinked slowly as Tink sidled back into the Falcor.

    Pedro quietly bit the side of his tongue. He didn’t know xtheno facial cues, but he did know that they had a reputation for not doing anything quickly. The longer they stayed here, the more chance they might find Nineteen. The pilot pursed his lips and said nothing as the Fed commander conferred with captain Zya.

    The conversation was punctured by the unmistakable fzzzt of a blaster discharge, which drew all eyes back up the landing ramp towards the Falcor’s innards. About a minute later the Fed security squad reappeared, carrying the limp form of Kzznikkt between four of them. Pedro looked over the body but he couldn’t see blood or scorching; only the lighter striated burns of a stun bolt. Seeing the Tek merely unconscious and not dead gave him a curious mix of relief and foreboding.

    All around him insects buzzed through the steamy air, like echoes of a wrathful Tek Haxxar. Pedro licked his lips, and glanced from the Fed commander to his xtheno attendant.

    “So...what happens now?” he ventured, encompassing both themselves and the unfortunate Tek in the statement.
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  8. #118
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    Ayo stood there by Pedro as Tink came over to greet them. She simply smiled to the arrival of her companion. "If anything is edible I will let you know." She then looked down with her giant eyes to Pedro. "No worries. I have plenty of plants I am sure. I was trying, I thnk the word for it is, teasing? Working on my social cues instead of being dry and literal all the time.", she said with a flat face. It was true, Ayo could not always pick up on social cues. So she was doing her best to socialize more and reach out to her companions.

    This conversation was disrupted as soon as the hatch was lowered and the group came into escort the Tek Hazzer off their ship and into proper custody. The crew had done their best with their makeshift cell, but it was not enough. There were times Ayo could hear Kzznikkt flapping around full of rage and banging into the walls. She was surprised they all had not been murdered at this point. Although there were nights Ayo had stood watch outside of the cell door with her blaster pistols up and ready to shoot if needed. She was sure she would have lost in a fight against the Tek, but she would have done her best to at least injure her before she got to the rest of the crewmates.

    The hot humid air came into the ship and Ayo felt relaxed. This planet's atmosphere mimiced her home planet. If she wanted to explore she would not have to wear her specialized space suit as she thought. As her eyes took in the brief colorful landscape, her purple skin began to flurry in colors to match the natural fauna of the outside planet. One of the perks to being a prey species, easier to blend in with the surroudings.

    AYo remained quiet as the group came on and Tink slinked off, probably to try and help hide 019. It all happened so fast. She heard the thud and the blaster of a gun. Her instincts kicked in and she raised her own pistol from her belt, ready to fire if needed. Her tendrils erected straight up from an adrenaline rush. Of course she wasn't even needed, before long the lifeless body of Kzznikkt was brought out. She lowered her pistol and watched them take the body away. Ayo couldn't help but feel guilty. She had helped to save this life, only to be ready to shoot the alien herself, or even worse stand by and watch it be murdered. She sighed, she needed to rethink her moral compass. Perhaps exploring this planet would help ease her mind.

    She listened to Pedro's question as she was still beside him.The air was thicker now and it smelled of angry pheromones. Her eyes saw insects floating in the air in response. She did her best to keep her tongue in her mouth to prevent herself from eating some with her tongue. "Well, if we are not needed in the investigation phase and we give clearance, you could help me find that plant. Also, Tink looked like she needed some air."

  9. #119
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    Commander Eeklik’oa made to speak, but was interrupted by the deep, nasally voice of the Xtheno officer.

    “If you have any data crystals, I’ll need to take a look at those. Anything helps in our fight against…” their eyes shifted to the team of soldiers carrying the unconscious body of the Tek-Haxxar, “them. Additionally, if you have any information about the unknown species, I’ll need to scan those as well.” The set of arms that had been crossed came apart for one hand to adjust the glasses on the end of their nose.

    “Yes, please allow us to scan your data crystals. Captain Zyaust-jecant, if you would follow me, we’ll get the bureaucratic business sorted.” He paused, then turned to the rest of the crew. “Please remain on the Landing Pad or in your ship. This should take but a few hours. The woods are home to a number of nasty critters native to Drunaak and have very little experience with sentients. There’s no telling what to expect. If you have any questions, you can ask Corporal Okorafor. I’m sure she’d be happy to oblige.”

    Breaking off from the group currently cuffing Kzznikkt, the same human woman as before stood next to Commander Eeklik’oa. Corporal Okorafor, as she was called, once again removed her helmet. Sliding the strap on her blaster across her shoulder, she seemed at ease.

    “Afternoon. My name is Corporal Okorafor.”
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  10. #120
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    "So...." Sirc demands with a scowl, holding up the data crystals, "Who gets the paperwork?"

    And why do so many species still call it that? she wondered. Sure, they could get hardcopies, but that would be printed on a mineral-based sheet, not some sort of vegetable pulp sheet.

    And why did they say scan? Didn't they keep hardcopies anymore?
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

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