Page 5 of 13 FirstFirst ... 34567 ... LastLast
Results 41 to 50 of 126

Thread: [M] The Andromeda Federation (IC)

  1. #41
    Wolf of the Highlands
    Highland Sniper's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2017
    Location
    The Wastelands to the east
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, sci-fi, steampunk, action
    Posts
    3,693
    Mentioned
    49 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    143

    Default

    019, from the percher of the odd machine man in a suit, though she has not figured that out yet, started to calm down with a look of awe and wonder as she looks back at this new figure.

    You understand me? She thought back to him, the awe being conveyed.

    Of course I do, little one. I am a telepath like you. He says, stroking her through the suit. I'm your friend, I know you are scared, but this machine is just there to make sure you don't get sick, or make us sick. You wouldn't want to make us sick, right?

    Well... why should I trust you? I don't even know you? The feelings of fear and anxiety were suppressed, but skeptical emotions seeped through, And... I don't like small spaces.
    She seemed to try to give him a quizzical glare through the suit.

    On the other hand, why shouldn't you? He continues, locking eyes with her and making a gentle smile. We did come out of our way to help you, and yeah, we don't know about each other, and this would be a good way to learn. How about this, how about I stay with you, linked, the whole time, so you aren't alone?

    She kept eye contact with him as she thought. She was uncomfortable with the idea of being in that box. She had been in confined rooms against her will and small air ducts of her own accord.
    She let out a sigh as she thought Fine in a very reluctant manner, just make it quick.
    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.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  2. #42
    `、、ヽ`☂ヽ`、ヽ`、ヽ
    Enigma's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    344 km straight up
    Posts
    5,020
    Mentioned
    176 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    469

    Default

    "Excellent," Sirc said, noting the unknown creature had stopped struggling. "Step back while I close the lid."

    Pushing the button, the machinery hummed as the lid came down, setting in place. The central display panel on the wall lit up, displaying the vitals.

    "Disinfecting the interior, cover your eyes!" she warned, pressing a button. UV emitters flashed, the helmet faceplate automatically darkening to protect the alien inside.

    "Okay, reach into the arm port and let's get them out of the suit," Sirc said. The material of the arm port was a thick brick of flexible bioplast, the material extending around her hand to form a glove. She reached up to find the release points of the suit.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  3. #43
    Wolf of the Highlands
    Highland Sniper's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2017
    Location
    The Wastelands to the east
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, sci-fi, steampunk, action
    Posts
    3,693
    Mentioned
    49 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    143

    Default

    019 breathed really erratically in this cramped space as the lights flashed. She really didn't like this. No way to move around in here.
    She soon felt the hands working the latches of the suit. and tried to steady her breathing.

    Alright, get me out now. She broadcasted with a sense of strong unease. It was almost all she could do to not bang on the box.
    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.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  4. #44
    Skull 'Ead Kaptain Panty's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Eh, somewhere.
    Posts
    6,279
    Mentioned
    9 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    2562

    Default

    Zyaust-jecant had only taken a few steps towards the door before a sudden feeling hit them. Anxiety, fear. Their clunky movements halted. Tiny vents opened on their machine body as they instinctually emitted warning scents. In the suit as they were, the released pheromones just coated the inside of the suit. The emotion waned, and their conscious mind began processing the events in order of most recent. First and foremost, they were annoyed. Smattering the inside of the suit with warning scent meant they had the message of non-words and feeling echoing in their proverbial ear, and it'd stay like that until they cleaned it. One more thing to do. Next was the sudden emotion. They knew without unquestion that the feeling had been alien. It had been a fear of tight spaces, of being closed in, unable to move. Claustrophobia. They had closed their eyes and done the mind realm ritual enough times to at least know what typically occurred in there. And of their fears, claustrophobia was not one of them. Or at the very least they had never felt that any of the Falcor's rooms or corridors were frighteningly small. Awkward, yes, but they held no reason for panic.

    Their first reaction was to ask how the thought could have come about. What could have triggered it? They were just about to place the survivor on - or was it in? - the autodoc as ordered. Wait, no, they were pretty sure they had done that already. They were heading off to get this damned suit off. Well, supposed to. If they hadn't dropped the survivor off already. Rather than perform mental calculus to determine the likelihood that they were at the 'walking out of the place the doctor worked' point in the timeline, they rotated their body around to survey the room. And a sight as curious as it was confusing was laid before them.

    Sirc, the doctor, was prostrated on the floor. As they observed, Sirc's head rose, and revealed that she was crying. She was saying something about their dead queen demanding the survivor be vented out an airlock. Zyaust-jecant was too confused to pay the proper attention required to make words fully legible through the muffling effect of the suits exterior, and felt they had missed something. But they certainly weren't going to do anything adverse to the survivor – who was, yes, on the autodoc table, at least they managed to do that properly. Lid wasn't on though. Probably a good thing, as they appeared to be struggling, and at the current moment, they weren't entirely trusting of the doctors capabilities or intentions.

    As they stood staring, Skylar suddenly came into view. Someone and/or something that wasn't Zyaust-jecant knew why. But they were comforting the doctor. Which was good, but also meant that Zyaust-jecant had to think of something else helpful to do. It seemed a bit of a crisis was going on, and walking away the moment it seemed someone else was maybe dealing with it seemed immoral, for lack of a more eloquent word. As they brought their attention to Sirc and Skylar again, they caught something of interest in their conversation; Skylar claimed they could communicate with the survivor. Something like that. They'd sort of heard something like telepath. Skylar was one of those, wasn't he? Some implant humans could get to communicate mentally. Zyaust-jecant couldn't remember the specifics. They were sure they'd read about it somewhere. Whatever they were talking about, it seemed to stop the doctors tears, so good.

    They were wondering whether they should just straight ask if there was anything they could do to help when the sudden spike of that alien fear again struck again. They were better prepared for it this time, and met it with a mixture of self-reassurance that they were illogical feelings that were clearly not their own, and mild indignation at whatever...whatever was stomping about in their mental space, putting feelings in there that weren't theirs. They did a double take at that last feeling. How could something be putting fear into their mind? Thoughts had to be ran through the filter of the rules of physicality to be communicated between minds. Or did they? No, this wasn't the time for philosophical debate.

    As they recovered from the second hit of emotion, Zyaust-jecant became aware of Skylar approaching the autodoc table, saying something about the survivor being scared. Well, that fear was certainly easy to make sense of. UNLIKE ALL THIS OTHER VERY SILLY AND SOURCELESS FEAR. They mentally 'hmph'ed' as Skylar touched the survivor. Soon enough, the survivors struggling had stopped. Well wasn't this young man a miracle worker. It seemed like the situation was under control, so Zyuast-jecant wordlessly thudded out of the room. No point telling everyone they were going to do what they should have already been on the way to do.

    A few corridors along and they'd reached the storage locker. They hurried out of the suit as best as their poor awareness allowed. When the suit finally came off and their three heads allowed to extend, they were glad to be able to take their steps less gingerly. Granted, a head had to be constantly looking at their feet to facilitate finer and faster movement, but it worked well enough. They considered going back to the med-bay, but it was probably better to monitor reports coming in from the away team. And so they clanked towards the bridge. They'd use the central communications computer located there. Actually, was it located there? Whatever, most outside transmissions ran through the bridge first.

    Reaching the bridge, they checked the communications panel. As their large fingers awkwardly tapped the buttons, they realised that they should have probably taken the finger tip spikes from their work room. With some difficulty, they managed to reach the transmission logs. They'd missed two, it seemed. Nothing dire, they hoped. They started playing the messages as their heads swivelled around the room, looking for a pen or something to use as a stylus.

    'Uh, Falcor...I’ve got…ahem...I’ve got two dead crewmen in the forward section, possibly two different species? Somebody shot them,' sounded Pedro's voice, suffering from some mild distortion.

    Zyaust-jecant's movements halted. After a loud beeping sound, the next message played.

    'I also have a dead body. Back here in the termial bay off to the left. Some sort of lab set up,' rang Ayo's voice from the console, just as distorted as Pedro's.

    Bringing their hands back towards the console, they opened a comms channel to the away team.

    '[APPREHENSION] I apologise for the late reply. Away team, have you identified any weaponry on the wreckage capable of causing the shot wounds on the corpses? It is imperative to know whether the wounds were caused by internal struggle, or if the ship was boarded by external hostiles. I refuse to allow the ship to linger in a known zone of danger.'

  5. #45
    Member
    Alura's Avatar
    Join Date
    Apr 2010
    Location
    Wherever I land.
    Posts
    1,915
    Mentioned
    32 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    102

    Default

    (Co-post: Alura & SaltyIrishman)

    Tink whirled along the lines. Though it was nothing unusual for a ship of this size, the corridors somehow felt like they went on forever due to the twisting design. Dipping below another of the oddly-angled beams, she looked about a round room with a number of displays. A door nearby was impossible to open by hand, and beside it the wall was taken up by a viewing window that showed into what looked to be the engineering deck she was searching for... Only, beyond just the strange architecture she could see nothing that should merit dividing that deck from the rest of the ship by more than a standard door.

    Pressing her gloved palms to the viewer, she peered around, the hairs at the back of her neck standing on end. It was eeriely quiet and still, the void of space muting everything until that silence was deafening. Her respirator rasped reassuringly as she angled herself to take one last, long look, one hand drifting back towards the control panel she had seen in the little room separating her from the engine room and generator.

    The display weakly flickered to life with her touch. A teal layout in a strange, looping language unknown to Tink dimly flickered. The terminal sparked. On the screen, a top-down view of this room and the engineering deck warped and wiggled. One of the other displays lit up, brighter than the first, which showed a similar view of the bridge. The other displays did nothing, and at least one had a shattered screen.

    Jumping a little at the spark, Tink squinted at the displays that had come to life and enabled the viewers for the other active exosuits in the same way Pedro had.

    "Have a look at this. Looks like a little power left in the tank. Could be dregs of reserves. Engineering deck is sealed behind some sort of secured door. I can see the bridge from here..." She leaned her nose towards it, casting her eyes around the screen for anything useful, any signs of another survivor. She still had that creeping feeling of being watched, but in space it was hard to tell if it was just the mind reconciling being alone or real danger. Reaching in her sealed mechanic's bag, she pulled free the omni-tool she had been favouring since finding it aboard the Falcor. It beat the more manual tools of Dog Rock for efficiency any day, though it certainly had received its fair share of tweaks - not to mention been taken apart and reassembled nearly a half dozen times. "Going to see if I can breach the door. If displays are up, might have enough to jump off critical systems if I can get to that backup."

    After quickly reviewing the controls below the active monitors, she tried her hand at overriding. They seemed unresponsive. She moved to the door and knelt to remove the plate from the control panel at its side, tool giving a comforting blue glow as she set about her efforts to trip the security features that held it sealed. Once she thought she saw a shadow, a shiver racing up and down her spine. She chided herself for being childish, but still glanced at the monitors and into the viewing window over the sealed deck. With a little luck she'd have it open in the next few minutes. Power restore should take under twenty minutes, tops - then she could find her exploring companions and see what else they could find at the bridge.

    It took a little longer than expected to restore power. The wiring and electrical system seemed to only be intuitive to the original makers of the ship. However, after a little under a half hour, the generators hummed to life, sputtering a bit, but turning on. The overhead lights were a soft yellow and easily suffused the ship. The life support systems began trickling their chemicals once more, slowly, and the artificial gravity was about 1/4th strength. One interesting bit of electrical engineering that only those outside the wreck could see, power was on everywhere except the area around the gaping hole in the side. It seems the makers made it in a way to automatically detect damage and divert power away from it.

    As the soft wumph of life joined the strain of the generator, Tink gave a howl. "That's it, baby!" Twirling the omnitool through her thick exosuit fingers, she narrowly avoided dropping it in her celebration. She tapped the time display at her wrist as if it might somehow be out of time. "Mmph. Getting slow."

    Dipping her head under one of the lines, she double-checked the power outputs and traced back as well as she could just to make sure there were no catastrophic surprises lurking. Her gaze returned to the monitoring gauges across the deck to see if there were any leaks or other stability issues that might be more minor. It would be hard to guarantee no issues with a hulk of a ship like this, but so far the electrical system seemed to be doing well for them.

    "Lights up, look alive!" She considered the dead bodies they had seen floating and coughed mildly in embarrassment at her choice of phrasing. "Uh... power and electrical coming online. Looks like artificial atmosphere is re-establishing, might be able to collect some better samples, eh, Ayo?"

    Monkeying over to the doors she had forced through to gain access to the engineering deck, Tink checked to see if any new readouts had come up with the lights, hoping to get more detailed updates on the system's natural checks than what she could get from built-in gauges. She might not be able to read the strange language it was all in, but hoped that the readouts would not be as needlessly confusing as some of their system designs had been. Not to say she wouldn't mind spending a few weeks pulling apart the inner workings of the ship and seeing exactly what made it tick.

    A flicker of light in the back corner of the engineering deck port-side caught her peripheral vision. As she turned to look at it fully, it flickered again, went out, then after about thirty seconds came back on as warmly as those around the rest of the deck. With a glance down to reassure herself the others were still with her somewhere on the ghost ship, she found her way back into the room. She should really see if the damage to the structure of the ship might be impacting the ability of the artificial gravity to restore properly. It was too much to hope it had been something other than a centrifugal arrangement. With a sigh, she looked over her shoulder at the spot that had gone dark.

    "Just a quick look..." Bounding off to verify there were no survivors on the engineering deck, she quickly contacted the others with, "Just having a last look here then going to start the rounds sealing off things like that damaged line we saw on the way in... anything new your ends?"

    Zyaust-jecant's question crackled over as she ducked under a conduit headed for the flickering shadow on the engineering deck.

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

  6. #46
    The Replicant
    Azazeal849's Avatar
    Join Date
    Jul 2011
    Location
    UK
    Posts
    7,608
    Mentioned
    84 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    470

    Default A Moonlit (white) and Az (blue) co-post

    “Away team, have you identified any weaponry on the wreckage capable of causing the shot wounds on the corpses?”

    “Nothing.” Pedro reported as he drifted carefully along a connecting tunnel into a domed chamber, which by the number of screens and panels he was willing to bet constituted the ship’s control hub. “None of them were carrying a gun...or at least nothing that looked like one.”

    “It is imperative to know whether the wounds were caused by internal struggle, or if the ship was boarded by external hostiles. I refuse to allow the ship to linger in a known zone of danger.”

    Pedro swallowed. “Copy.”

    A pulse thrummed through the dead heart of the vessel. In response the lights came alive, flickering at first, but then they settled steady. The halting thwok thwok thwok of an air circulator started up, faint in the still-thin air of the forward module, but bringing welcome relief to the eerie silence that had descended since the survivor’s departure.

    “Lights up, look alive!” Tink chirruped across the radio.

    “Nice one!” Pedro transmitted back as all around him the screens of the control hub began to blink online. His enthusiasm was dampened a few minutes later when, after repeated scans of the winding, looping script that comprised the alien language, the universal translator behind his suit camera splashed a red Translation unavailable rune across his visor.

    “Come on, there’s more than enough for you to work with here.” the dwarf pilot muttered, tapping his wrist to set the pattern scanner running a second time.

    Translation unavailable.

    Pedro chewed his lip. And there seemed to be no wireless link for him to shunt his implant into; no visible ports that he could use to download data. If we could even decrypt whatever machine code they use. He frowned in frustration. “Damn.”


    * * * * * *

    The flickering of lights let Ayo know Tink had worked her magic yet again. “Thanks for the better lighting.”, she said with appreciation over their share intercom. At this point Ayo had already gotten lost within the twisting and turning metal halls. She hoped she would be able to find her way back.

    Next she heard over the comms. '[APPREHENSION] I apologise for the late reply. Away team, have you identified any weaponry on the wreckage capable of causing the shot wounds on the corpses? It is imperative to know whether the wounds were caused by internal struggle, or if the ship was boarded by external hostiles. I refuse to allow the ship to linger in a known zone of danger.'

    “The bodies I found definitely were murdered, whether by outside forces or their own have yet to be seen. I will collect data and let you know what else I find. “ Ayo also made a mental note to collect samples of any of the bodies they might come in contact with in the future for Sirc. Her and the doctor shared a similar scientific curiosity.

    This was about the time she found a random room off to the left. It looked like a storage area. Not many signs of life were in here, let alone signs of a struggle. This seemed to be where things were rationed. She found some sealed rations and decided to take a few back to the ship. One should never give up on collecting resources when they are so finite.

    Her long bent legs finally brought her back out into the halls. She did her best to retrace her steps until she bumped into Pedro again. The small human visibly twitched in surprise when he noticed her. He was clearly spooked by the disaster they had stumbled across, even if he was trying to keep his unease under close control.

    “Heya, Ayo.” he said, managing a smile through his bubble helmet as he turned back to the now-active screens that festooned the odd-angled walls.
    It appeared he was trying to translate the language of this alien species.

    “Hey.” she said casually and pulled out one of the journals she had taken from the lab. “Would this help at all?” She doubted it would, but wanted to help anyway.

    Pedro reached out a stubby arm for the journal and turned it over for the camera in his suit to run it by the universal translator. Ayo saw a rune flash red, projected briefly onto the inside of his helmet. Pedro chewed the inside of his cheek.

    “Maybe the translator’s just throwing a tantrum.” he suggested. “I’ll give it a proper review when I can plug back into the Falcor. We’re going to need some way of talking to the survivor.”


    “Where should we go next? I know we should figure out what happened here.” Her hand then went to rest on one of her pistols, showing she was ready for a fight and not scared if raiders were still aboard the ship.

    She saw Pedro purse his lips. She had gathered from previous conversations that the way she walked around everywhere, casually armed, was strange to him - but no doubt he was glad of it right now. The pilot considered for a moment, then nodded, pointing down a circular shaft that sank away into the floor of the room.

    “I haven’t checked down there yet.”

    Catching hold of wall handholds to spin themselves round, they carefully crawled headfirst down the connecting tunnel and into what looked like some kind of crew berth, with multiple small cabins branching off.

    “Uh oh.” Pedro murmured as he crawled out after Ayo and took in the scene.

    Underneath the busted, flickering lights, chunks of metal and plastic tubing drifted where they had been torn from the walls. The ceiling and floor were scored with black weapon impacts, and splashes of green and red.


    Ayo paused as she took in the scene before her. As if she did not put the pieces together before, there was a struggle here. This poor crew is raided by who knows what. Part of her instinct was to flee. To use her strong jumped legs and high tail it back to the safety of the Falcor. However, instead she unclipped her pistol and held it up, ready to shoot any threat.

    She spoke in a hushed tone in her native tongue to Pedro, in case enemy ears were nearby. “This doesn’t look good. We will do a quick sweep and then get out of here. We do not want the Falcor brought up into this mess.”

    “Take it slow.” Pedro nodded quietly, switching back to Trade as he turned his head slightly towards his mic pickup. “Falcor, we’ve got more signs of a fight down in the crew berths. Keep an eye on us, yeah?”

    Ayo could hear the strained smile in the pilot’s voice as she inched forward and avoided the chunks of metal floating through their path.

    It was not long before the two came upon some more helpless victims. Three creatures were drifting above the floor, insectoids with segmented bodies and long, chitinous limbs. They were curled up in foetal position, seemingly dead. Despite their obvious difference from the other dead crewmen, there were no weapons to be seen.

    “Are those Tek-Haxxar?” Pedro asked behind her, “Falcor, are you seeing this?”

    The Tek-Haxxar were no friends of the Federation, their name inextricably linked with the Trellonite Holocaust. A hundred worlds and over five trillion sapients burned to cinders - nothing in galactic history even came close to the scale of the destruction they had wrought. What were they doing here?


    She was about to crouch down to inspect before quick movement caught her eyes. Ayo in fast response pointed her gun to what had caught the attention of her peripheral vision.

    It was a survivor! Her heart beat fast as hope filled her being. The blood let her leap forward to close the distance between her and the victim.

    “Ayo, be careful!” Pedro shouted out behind her.

    She resumed the common tongue most species knew, speaking in a relaxed tone.

    “Hello, I am Ayo. Our ship came across yours and we wanted to offer her help. Please respond if you can understand me.” She hoped the creature understood her, if not at least recognizing she was not a threat. The blood from its injuries still appeared to be bleeding out. This poor creature did not have long.

    “Pedro see if you can buzz for Tink to come down an help us. If we act fast maybe the Doc can help save them.”, she said without looking back. Instead she gently lifted her hand and applied pressure to the open wound, utilizing her small knowledge of first aid. Curses, at a time when I need my plants! she thought to herself.
    Last edited by Azazeal849; 03-14-2021 at 09:11 PM.
    Spoiler: My RP links 

    PM me for novelised versions of any of my RPs, or ones that I have participated in. Set by the awesome Karma.


  7. #47
    Field Cryptozoologist
    Yggdrasil_Hugger's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2018
    Location
    The Chernobyl Elephant's Foot
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    I do a bit of everything, but I'm always down for a good horror or high fantasy plot
    Posts
    1,774
    Mentioned
    103 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    132

    Default

    <Pain. Darkness, cold. Pain. Pain was good, pain meant you were alive. Excruciating pain. Like the venom of a Bzkkt-Kzznt but exponentially worse. Worse by a factor of trillions.> These thoughts occupied Kzznikkt’s mind, running around and around. All she knew was darkness, cold and painful darkness. Behind her eyes, she could almost see the Hive of Warriors. Then all at once, it stopped. The darkness was replaced by the brilliant light. The cold leeched out of her exoskeleton and was replaced by a comfortable, habitable warmth. But the pain still lingered. Her breaths were coming easier now.

    With her compound eyes, she could see everything around her. Zzntkk and Tkkzzn’s bodies shriveled and dead, four arms curled into the chest. Their eyes were still glazed over gold. Footsteps. She didn’t bother turning to face the door when the two explorers came in. One human, though interestingly small, and one Zalmade. They entered the bunks carefully, clunkily bouncing along in their spacesuits. The Zalmade held a gun. Kzznikkt flinched barely, the smaller motion sending waves of pain through her body. The Zalmade made a noise of alarm and the human chattered away in the human language.

    The Zalmade bounded towards her and it took everything she had not to kick back. She began to speak a common trade language, which Kzznikkt only had a slight grasp of. She couldn’t understand everything, but got the gist: the Zalmade, Ayo, wanted to... assist? No, if they wanted to assist they would have come earlier. Help. Ayo wanted to help. Kzznikkt’s mouthparts clicked as she gave a strained reply in her broken version of the language. She had a pronounced accent, both from little understanding of the language and a mouth not built for this kind of speech.

    “My name is Kzznikkt. I understand... small.” She knew her wording was wrong, but couldn’t help it. Ayo began to apply pressure to the worst of Kzznikkt’s wounds and she groaned. With a shaking hand, she pointed to the small pouch on her belt. Inside were three vials of a golden-colored liquid. Zznzzn, or Ambrosia in any direct translation. It was a miracle brew made for the bravest of warriors. It would enhance speed and strength, make them nearly tireless, and almost entirely reduced her ability to feel pain. It wasn’t meant to be eaten in large quantities, but the verge of death was a good enough reason.

    In her own language, she coughed and asked, “Do you have a translator?”
    <a href=https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8 target=_blank>https://images.app.goo.gl/MJKETshMQ8yXopEM8</a>

  8. #48
    `、、ヽ`☂ヽ`、ヽ`、ヽ
    Enigma's Avatar
    Join Date
    Oct 2009
    Location
    344 km straight up
    Posts
    5,020
    Mentioned
    176 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    469

    Default

    Sirc eyed the alien underneath the protective cover of the autodoc, then leaned forward and tried to smile reassuringly, exposing her sharp, pointy teeth.

    "I know you do not understand me, but we are going to run diagnostics on you in order to determine your species and your requirements," the vet said. "If you are able to speak your native language, please do so in the hope our system can recognize your type faster. Once we have established a baseline, we can then stabilize you and treat any injuries, then inoculate you with the recommended wide-spectrum vaccine so you don't die if someone coughs or sneeze."

    "I don't suppose we have a med-implant in stores?" she wondered out loud, turning towards the autodoc and began keying in commands. It was something of a staple among her people, it would be implanted in the torso and constantly monitor their condition, releasing antivirals when one appeared and alerting the medbay of any crisis. Of course, most people had theirs implanted early, it wasn't something most would need to replace.
    Spoiler: ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ √Ăłł Єѵïł ¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤¤ 

  9. #49
    Wolf of the Highlands
    Highland Sniper's Avatar
    Join Date
    Sep 2017
    Location
    The Wastelands to the east
    Favourite Roleplay Genres
    Fantasy, sci-fi, steampunk, action
    Posts
    3,693
    Mentioned
    49 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    143

    Default

    019 continued to breath a little iratically and broadcast her thoughts, her feelings of confined anxiety apparent in the feeling of her thoughts.

    what did she say? What are you doing? They broadcasted. Get me out already!
    Sirc would only get her native language.

    But once scans were made they would see that, although there was damage, it was almost healed already. Mainly just lung and skin damage.
    But there was evidence of old scars from possible surgeries and large tubes.

    It was all she could do not to try busting out of that box.
    That smile didn't help matters either. She started to shiver as the memories of the lab came back easily. She grit her teeth and shut her eyes to try to block it out.

    Never again. She thought privately.
    Last edited by Highland Sniper; 03-15-2021 at 10:23 PM.
    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.

    Spoiler: I'm an Ajin! 

    Spoiler: extra 

  10. #50
    Skull 'Ead Kaptain Panty's Avatar
    Join Date
    Dec 2013
    Location
    Eh, somewhere.
    Posts
    6,279
    Mentioned
    9 Post(s)
    Rep Power
    2562

    Default

    Two of their metal hands hovered over the communication console in perfect stillness. A twitch of repurposed facial nerves had shut off the ability for their two arms to receive commands from their brain, lest their unfeeling limbs break something in their anxious jittering. They had locked the position of their legs as well and given their full control over to the automatic stability systems for similar reasons. Zyaust-jecant did not like this at all. Spending their organic body years plodding through swamp land had made them more than a little tired of hardship and given them the attitude that anything that could be described as 'adventurous' was to be approached with a very long stick – quite literally, though the phrase had metaphorical applications to.

    A reply from Pedro and Ayo came through.

    "Nothing. None of them were carrying a gun...or at least nothing that looked like one,” was the message received from Pedro in reply as to whether the gun-shot wounds were caused by boarders or the ship's crew members.
    “The bodies I found definitely were murdered, whether by outside forces or their own have yet to be seen. I will collect data and let you know what else I find,“ was what Ayo had to say.
    Zyaust-jecant didn't like either of these replies. The situation seemed to become more dire the more they learned about it. It reminded them of when they actually read through the historical documents they gathered. After a while you could just tell that there was going to be some disaster the next few years down the timeline. Though here the disaster could be within the next few hours, maybe even minutes. They'd be piano tapping their fingers on something if they hadn't ceased up their body.

    Zyaust-jecant was contemplating whether to call the away team back or let them decide on their own whether to continue investigating or return to the ship when another message of gloomy interest was received from Pedro.
    “Are those Tek-Haxxar? Falcor, are you seeing this?”

    Zyaust-jecant was, in fact, not seeing it. So far they had been happy enough receiving verbal reports and didn't deemed it necessary to look over the camera readings as they received and recorded. They trusted the away teams word and, in truth, had no desire to look at corpses in levels of damage and mangling they had no interest in guessing or discovering. Everything Zyaust-jecant had heard had not convinced them to change this state of affairs. Even more so now that they seemed to be dealing with an action of war.

    Well, things had gotten worse. Of course they had. Tek-Haxxar. The war mongerers. They seemed to have underestimate this distress signal investigation at every junction. It wasn't bandits, it was Tek-Haxxar that had raided the ship. The situation had escalated from 'potential crime scene' to 'event of major sector government' interest. They unlocked their arms and reached for the push-to-talk button to signal to the entire away team – they couldn't help but notice the agitated shaking of their hands as they did.

    '[AUTHOURATIVE/URGENT/ SIGNIFICANT STRESS] Gather your samples and any evidence of note, especially of Tek-Haxxar presence and return to the ship. This has escalated to a political incident beyond our jurisdiction and means. We move out as fast as possible to the closest Federation outpost and inform them of what we have found.'

    Their finger lifted, and both hands began tapping away at the console as they made ready to broadcast over the entirety of the Falcor. They wanted to sigh, but stopped themself, both because they couldn't and because sighing probably gave their mechanical body some kind of command. Their finger came down again on the transmit button as every speaker on the Falcor turned on.

    '[AUTHOURATIVE/SIGNIFICANT STRESS] Attention crew of the Falcor. The away team has discovered the presence of Tek-Haxxar on the wrecked ship. The away team will be returning and we will be leaving this incident site as soon as possible for the nearest Federation outpost. Make the necessary preparations to give your accounts of the situation, as they will inevitably be asked.'

    Zyaust-jecant's arms rose away from the console, and they locked their movement again. If they had the time and means, they would have to look up what the necessary paper work was and how to fill it out for reporting in such an incident. They'd also have to remember to tell Pedro to mark down the stellar co-ordinates, as that would inevitably be of importance.

Page 5 of 13 FirstFirst ... 34567 ... LastLast

Bookmarks

Posting Permissions

  • You may not post new threads
  • You may not post replies
  • You may not post attachments
  • You may not edit your posts
  •