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Post by Esteban Bridges on Jan 19, 2014 19:56:57 GMT -6
Neon lights reflected brilliantly off dark brown eyes, the soft luminescence blanketing the rugged visage of the man standing at the head of the Command Station. His hands rested on the station's brim, his arms locked rigid as he leaned against the solid oval structure. The man remained still, all except for his eyes. His gaze roamed the many screens, carefully monitoring the final checks before launch. "This is Engineering, all power systems are ready for launch," an unfamiliar voice rang out from station's comm system. Esteban scowled, turning his gaze gradually downward to one of the dozens of glowing panels. He was expecting to hear from Donnelly, not whoever that was. That voice sounded filtered, like someone spoke through a speaker. He stared blankly for a moment until it his him who it was. The Quarian. How quaint. "Acknowledged," Esteban replied. "Bridge out." He brushes his left hand through a couple of the ethereal screens, extinguishing their light with the softest touch of his fingers. Esteban no longer needed those readouts. All he needed now was confirmation that the remaining few systems was green-lit, then the go-head from Citadel Tower. [GM Note: Lift off tomorrow So if your character needs the launch temporarily halted because he/she needs to purchase something, go for it now]
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 19, 2014 20:07:58 GMT -6
He found it interesting that the young woman chose to ignore his initial greeting. Part of him wondered if she suffered some form of social anxiety disorder, as he sat back down. The other options were less appealing, so he chose not to linger on them, instead chalking her reservation up to a personal idiosyncrasy of some kind.
"Hello, Maelstrom," the batarian blurted out, coming up next to him. "I'm Criendi'has."
Maelstrom gave the batarian a quick once over, having had little time to examine him the day before in the context of the meeting. He was more lightly armored and armed than some of the others. His load-out suggested someone with significant biotic powers. Or a slaver. As a rule, slavers did not like to have to fight the weight of their equipment in addition to their struggling prey. Normally Maelstrom reserved judgement on alien practices until he understood them better, but slavery hit just a bit too close to home.
Realizing that he was stuck with the batarian mercenary for the better part of a week anyway, he decided attempt to be civil, at least until he found out for certain whether or not the man was a slaver. Maelstrom raised a hand, offering the seat across the table to the batarian. Managing to keep his tone civil, he added, "Unless you'd prefer to stand again. Mr. Tilo and I were just discussing what we did before our current line of work and what we might do afterwards."
Maelstrom was careful to get a good look at the batarian's face, then looked down to his hand. As he reached for his fork again, he deliberately but subtly rapped his index and middle finger against the table twice. A sign Emily knew well. In the game of power, it meant to check, something she could now do, since he had a name to go with the face.
"Extranet connection will be intermittent while in transit," Emily reminded. "I will run searches as able."
Maelstrom skewered some of the hash browns and shoveled them into his mouth.
The young woman said something under her breath, drawing his attention. Perhaps talking to her own VI? Making her way over to Eric Lysander, she said, "Um... hi. I'm River. River Havens."
The name sounded familiar. He had heard it before. No. Seen it before. Most of his information on fellow mercenaries came from word of mouth, not reports that he read, so that narrowed the field considerably. The mercenaries he did read about were all of enough note that he would not be struggling to place their names. It did not seem to him like it was that long ago since he came across the name either. He was almost certain it was since his escape.
Trying not to be too obvious, he repeated the signal he gave Emily a moment ago, this time with River as the subject. He quietly cleared his throat, like something had gone down not quite right, another signal to Emily. New target was a priority.
She was silent for a moment. "No record of her in our current databases. Checking additional sources."
He was almost certain that had to be it.
"Single reference found in corrupted Cerberus files recovered during the Eclipse mission," Emily reported. "The rest of the document is badly degraded. Insufficient data to draw context."
Maelstrom nodded. He stabbed one of the sausages and raised it to his mouth as he considered how best to handle being on a mission with a Cerberus agent. Typically, he would take the first oportunity to maneuver them into a corner and put a round in their skull. Being on a crew this size and this organized would complicate matters, though. If he shot her, people would start looking for a killer, and it would. He imagined he could deflect suspicion briefly, but he was no expert in deception. And the shuttle bay doors were rather thick.
"I will pause all extranet searches on the other members of the crew and focus on Miss Havens," Emily reported, following the directives he gave her.
Maelstrom found it difficult to keep his eyes off River, as she talked with Eric Lysander. Was she trying to get him on her side? Were they already working together? Was the batarian her idea too? To recapture him alive? Was it possible that the whole mission was an elaborate ploy to bring him in.
He had one advantage. She did not know he was aware she had a connection to Cerberus.
"I would remind you that your name appears in Cerberus files as well," Emily said, following another directive of his. Making assumptions about something so grave was dangerous. It invited harming innocents, something unforgivable. Still, it seemed highly unlikely that two former victims of Cerberus should end up on the same ship, on the same mercenary mission. "'Directive ten: Remind me to not let myself do anything I'll regret.'"
Emily's words calmed him just enough to remind himself how much Cerberus disliked working with aliens. The mission was too diverse for the whole thing to be a set up. They despised batarians in particular. Perhaps, Maelstrom considered, the batarian could be a useful friend on this mission whether or not he was typically a slaver.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 19, 2014 21:55:41 GMT -6
Iskra sighed as the door shut behind the human. Saying anything to him now would invite further awkward moments, which she had enough of for the day. She hadn’t even found out why the Quarian had shown up, or either of their names.
Parr was standing next to her, staring at the door. She wondered how long he had been there, and how she missed his approach. Reaching down, she pet the beast’s head, earning a happy rumble from the varren.
A soft vibration from her left wrist told her she had a message. She wondered if it was Corwin, she hadn’t seen River arrive but she knew he would want to know everything as soon as she got there. Pulling up the omni tool, she found the message was from Esteban, not Corwin.
“As promised.”
The file attached had to be the anti-Seeker formula, it was the only reason she figured he’d contact her. Downloading the data to an empty datapad, Iskra found herself watching page by page as the research loaded. It was going to be a massive undertaking, just reading the info was going to take at least a day.
Carrying the datapad to the bed in her small quarters, she sat on the mattress. Parr crawled up next to her and placed his head in her lap. She smiled softly at the loyal companion, using her free hand to pet him as she began reading the file.
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Post by Eric Lysander on Jan 20, 2014 14:36:41 GMT -6
"Um...hi. I'm River. River Havens."
Eric was in mid-swallow when the dark-haired girl walked up to introduce herself. Startled, he half choked, swallowed, coughed and turned to look at her, patting and rubbing his chest with one hand.
"Phew - sorryboutdat... glad to meet you, River. Eric Lysander. I didn't see you at our meeting at Chora's Den yesterday..."
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Post by grandest on Jan 20, 2014 16:06:17 GMT -6
The Human, Maelstrom, had offered Cruendi'has a seat at the table-- which he accepted-- but his attentions were focused on the human girl now across the room. Cruendi'has watched them both with different sets of eyes for a moment before shaking his head clear. Human courtship was another thing he would never understand. He looked up at the Turian. "You," he attempted, "Turian. What's your story?"
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Post by Game Master on Jan 20, 2014 17:36:57 GMT -6
The Valiant Soars
"We are cleared for take off," the pilot called out over the ship's comm system. "Setting course to the Antaeus System."
And with that, the docking clamps disconnected from the Valiant. For most of the galaxy, a ship taking off no longer held the magic it might have had. After all, watching a massive ship backing up without anyone pushing or pulling it was common place. There was nothing impressive about it anymore. Nor was the 180 degree spin it gave, followed up by it accelerating to 5% the speed of light in moments. The thrusters lit up behind it, flaring brighter than anything else in the system for just a moment. Even this was common place. There was no magic to it, nothing mysterious or beautiful about how the technology worked.
It was something common, a ship flying the the vacuum of space like ships of old sailed through the oceans....the lingering gas and plasma of the nebula parting like water. So much was taken for granted.
So much.
And with a blink of an eye, the Valiant shot away into the relay system.. disappearing from sight. Everything around the ship was a blur as hundreds of light years was traveled in the first hour. It would be a six day journey to the Antaeus system. Hopefully, a relaxing one...
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[GM Note: Just feel free to RP a little bit with this. Keep on interacting and getting to know each other. I don't plan on asking everyone to RP out the six days. That would be boring. If you don't feel like having your character interact with people, just write up a summary of what you're character will be doing over the six days. Though even with this, see if you can just summarize who your character talks to and what about (clear it with the other PCs first please)]
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 21, 2014 0:20:41 GMT -6
Several hours into the trip, the human female named Donnelly—-who, as it turned out, was the chief engineer, not Adams—-looked over at Shala. “You can take a break now Shala, me and my people can handle this. No offense, but this ship is a lot better than most of the ships in your fleet.”
“No offense taken, Charlene Donnelly vas Valiant,” Shala said as she considered the chief engineer’s offer. While she certainly would prefer to stay with the engines and learn as much as she could, she knew she had not been hired for this; she would be investigating the Collector attack with the others, and it would do well to get to know them better…except for the batarian.
…hands pulling her out from the desk, groping her…
“Very well,” she said, heading for the stairs.
“Shala, one other thing,” Donnelly said and Shala stopped. “There’s no need for that ‘Charlene Donnelly vas Valiant’ every time we talk, just call me Charlie, or Chuck. The same goes for the others too.”
“Okay…Chuck,” Shala said ascended the stairs.
As much as Shala wanted to talk to Maelstrom, she decided it was better to talk to the drell first. Running out on her the way she did, combined with mistaking the salarian for the doctor, was not the best first impression she had created, and the sooner she went about trying to fix that mistake the better, especially if she needed medical attention sometime in the future.
*****
As she approached the medical bay, the doors slid happen, which she didn’t like. Someone’s private quarters shouldn’t be open to anyone who walked up. Among her people, if you wanted to enter someone’s private quarters, you had to knock, identify yourself and ask permission to enter.
As soon as she entered, the varren pounced on her. “Help!” she cried out, struggling to get out from under it.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 1:42:57 GMT -6
Iskra stretched her arms up over her head, wincing as she felt her right shoulder pull. The glance in the mirror revealed the clawed scars that lay on the shoulder blade. It was not the first scar on her body, nor will it be the last. Older ones peeked themselves from the edges of her suit and ran up her arms where the gloves covered, the air filter had saved her face more than once from earning its own scars.
“According to your medical records, Dr. Narei, the injury you sustained should have healed by now, but my scans have picked up a struggle with your range of motion.” The medical VI chirped from the corner, “I pushed myself too far a few days ago during my training, Asa. Nothing that will not be better by the end of the week.”
The door to the medbay opened and Parr jumped up, tackling the person to the ground. “Help!”
Iskra pulled the licking varren off the Quarian, leading him back to her quarters and shutting the door. “Sorry, I have only had him for a day. The training is going to take a while to kick in.” The young doctor walked over to her coat and gloves, grabbing the gloves off the table and starting to slide them back on.
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 21, 2014 4:24:57 GMT -6
As soon as Shala felt weight being lifted off, she scrambled to her feet and scrambled backwards, drawing her shotgun as she did do, her head snapping back and forth as she looked for any other enemies.
No, no, there are no enemies here, you’re on the Valiant, there’s no danger here…
Even telling herself that, it still took a minute for her heart to stop racing and her tunnel vision to clear. When her heart finally decided to stay inside her chest, she put the shotgun away and looked to see that the varren was gone and the drell putting on some gloves as she said something about training.
“I’m sorry, but I had a…bad experience with varren,” she said, managing to keep her voice from cracking as she checked her suit for any punctures. “So, uh, do all drell keep varren as pets?”
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Post by River Havens on Jan 21, 2014 5:08:23 GMT -6
River jumped back as Eric began choking on his food. Maybe she shouldn't have just popped up like that out nowhere and given the poor man a heart attack. She made a mental note to practice her approach for next time.
"Chora's Den? Oh yeah, that's right! The meeting!" she exclaimed. "Yeah...I had meant to go to that, but unfortunately I couldn't. I had a...prior engagement that I couldn't get away from. I'm kinda regretting it now. Maybe I would've had at the chance to get to know everyone better before boarding."
She cleared her throat nervously.
"I'm sorry if I start to ramble. I kinda do that sometimes."
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 5:29:03 GMT -6
Iskra washed her hands, reminding herself that Parr was going to need to stay in the medbay with her. She had not realized the beast would make any of the others uncomfortable, other than her first experience with him, he seemed to be the tamest of his kind. Guess we are both outcasts.
“So, uh, do all Drell keep varren as pets?”
“Not that I know of. Their rapid breeding cycles make them dangerous to the native ecology of any world they are brought to. We are guests on Kahje, the Drell would not wish to risk meeting the Hanar’s gift of life with insult of sullying their world. I imagine it’s why the species is banned on many other Citadel planets.”
Iskra turned her back to the Quarian for a moment, sliding on the dark jacket, hiding her scars once more. “But I doubt you came for a history on varren. How may I help you?”
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 21, 2014 6:08:15 GMT -6
“I’m fine, I mean, I’m not sick or injured, at least not right now,” Shala said. “Maybe in the future I will be, I hope not, but that’s silly, everyone gets sick or injured at some point…”
You’re babbling, say something useful!
“I came by to get to know the rest of my crewmates,” she said, forcing herself to focus. “I am Shala’Bekk vas Neema. And I’m sorry for cutting short our first meeting, I didn’t expect the captain would want to leave so soon, I had to make sure the engine was functioning properly. Oh, and I’m sorry for mistaking the salarian for the doctor, I should’ve asked first instead of just assuming it was him.”
While you’re at it, why don’t you take the blame for inventing the geth?
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 6:27:58 GMT -6
Iskra gave the Quarian a reassuring smile, “It is fine, Shala. We all have our jobs here and you are hardly the first person to mistaken me for a civilian. Dr. Iskra Narei,” She held out her hand, “Pleasure to meet you.”
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 21, 2014 6:53:42 GMT -6
“Pleasure to meet you,” the drell—Iskra—said, extending her hand.
“Likewise,” Shala said and took it. After the handshake ended, she fought the urge to wipe her hand.
“Please don’t be offended when I say I hope I don’t have to see you in a professional capacity,” she said. “But in case you do…have you ever treated one of my people before?”
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 7:17:03 GMT -6
“My doctorate is in Biology, I have only been trained to treat combat wounds and the most common of infections.” Iskra was not a stranger to this particular discussion, the title of ‘doctor’ always carried the weight of people assuming you were a medical professional. Though she was trained in combat medics, she always felt it necessary to divulge her education background to those who could be possible patients. Knowledge is the only way a person can decide if they trust her or not, and in her position, they were going to have to.
“My doctoral dissertation was actually about your past relationship with your homeworld and how your people have been forced to adapt after the loss of that connection.” Iskra took in a deep breath.
“A Quarian. She’s yelling at me. Angry and insulted at my words. We are the same, forced off our homeworlds because of our ancestor’s mistakes. She tells me to leave her alone and shoves me out of the room.”
Iskra blinked a few times, clearing her vision of the memory. “My apologizes, Shala. No, I have not physically treated any of your people. But I have done more than enough research on how your immune system and environment suits work to be able to treat you appropriately should the need arise.”
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Post by Shala'Bekk vas Neema on Jan 21, 2014 10:05:38 GMT -6
Shala stood there in shock as Iskra spoke about her experience—or lack thereof.
It is like taking a trainee engineer and putting them charge of a dreadnought’s engine room, she thought, starting to panic. They are all theory and no experience. What was Bridges vas Valiant thinking?
But then again, how many outsiders can honestly say they know how to treat us? the more rational side of her responded. And at least she was honest with me.
“I…appreciate your honesty,” she said. “So, have you worked with Captain Bridges vas Valiant before? What is he like?”
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Post by Eric Lysander on Jan 21, 2014 11:19:55 GMT -6
River spilled out her reason for being absent from the mercenaries' initial gathering, then quickly apologized for her torrent. Eric thought nothing of it.
"Hey, no problem... as long as you don't ramble under fire. As for getting to know everyone else, you couldn't ask for a more captive audience; it's a few days to Antaeus. Plus we all hafta bash our little group into some kinda cohesive unit if we're gonna take back Mr. B's buried treasure from the Collectors!"
The youth seemed as eager to listen as Eric was to speak. Here was another whose behavior was out of line with their chosen profession.
'Remember ol' Bennie?' he thought to himself. 'That guy could slit you from neck to nuts and perforate your skull with the best of 'em. But take away his weapons, he was a mute. Put him in a social spot and his brain may as well have been made-a Jello. Maybe she's got the same hang up: all sweets and goofiness 'til it's time to go to work. Oh, she's got claws. Just make sure you don't give her a reason to use 'em on you!'
"You didn't miss much at the meeting really," Eric continued "Just the usual posturing and comparing of hardware. I take it you've already been clued in on the finer details of the job?"
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Post by Deleted on Jan 21, 2014 14:01:12 GMT -6
“I did not meet Mr. Bridges before yesterday.” Iskra crossed her arms, leaning back against the counter. “I was brought on by the financier, who is an old friend.”
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Post by Esteban Bridges on Jan 21, 2014 22:30:49 GMT -6
Esteban backed away from the Command Station with the completion of a successful launch with a smug look. Most of it was automated, his presence was a mere formality. Still, he had a team that could take on the galaxy and a space-worthy ship. That's enough to make anyone walk with a chip on their shoulder. But where to go? He saw the medbay but thought better of it. The team needed the countermeasure. Anything he needed to talk about could wait.
So he quietly wandered the Main Level, heading around to the hallway behind the medbay. Corwin told him where the secret entrance was to the Captain's Cabin. A panel opposite the medbay, one that only opens with a specific encryption that Corwin transferred to his omnitool. So Esteban called up his omnitool and waved it across the hallway. He saw a door slide open to his left, a welcoming orange glow waited within.
He hummed to himself, heading inside.
[RP Note: just a short post to keep things going. He's still reachable via comm channel]
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Post by Maelstrom on Jan 21, 2014 23:02:22 GMT -6
Maelstrom finished his meal with little input into the other conversations taking place. He was preoccupied. It was difficult for him to keep his hand off his submachine gun, just to feel its presence. He disposed of his plate and took his teakettle, tea pot, cup, and infuser with him as he headed to the Vengeance.
Emily opened the hatch for him as he neared. Rather than go back to his room in the aft of the vessel, he headed to the cockpit, which had the most comfortable chairs and the best screens for him to research his files on. His VI kept him company, her holographic form hovering over her projector, but she kept mostly silent, except to answer his queries. What was most frustrating was that, with the exception of the one fragmented file, he was unable to find anything else on the young woman in the ship's mess.
In the privacy of his own shuttle, he did not hesitate to grasp the holstered SMG to continually reassure himself of its presence.
[RP Note: Maelstrom is still available for interaction if anyone should choose to head down to his shuttle.]
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