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The Comorro docking hub is bustling with activity, ships going too and fro, passengers arriving via the shuttles, and dockworkers in various states of work ethic. The ones working the hardest, (and most efficient) however, are the Phyrrian Helot units loading cargo into the Obsidian Dust. Large chunks of metal and machinery get lifted into its cargo bay via strange - looking lifting mechanisms... Assuredly Phyrrian technology. These units, for those who haven't seen it, look something like this:
Before you is a humanoid-like being composed of perfectly rounded and smooth metal plates, fused together to form the chassis of this Phyrrian. It stands at about six feet in height, two, dark grey pointy hooves serving as it's foundation. These lead up to fairly normal looking legs, save for the fact that they are comprised of metal, encased by some sort of pearl-white armor. It's torso is covered with this same plate-like covering, a tube protruding from both the left and the right sides, and wrapping around into the back side of the armor. On the left breast, it says in black, "US-02 'Helot'" On the upper back, a built-in 'pack' of sorts is situated, with a metal object jutted upwards into the air. It's shoulder retains that uniform-like plate armor, leading about halfway down the arms before it becomes more standard-looking limbs, all its lower arm's interior parts covered by some sort of stretched-looking material. Its hand is much the same, though the metallic fingers are very prominent through the material, five digits forming a slightly large hand. Finally, it's neck, which also has two tubes running upwards, angles up over the torso before going straight forward and forming an elongated, rounded semi-circle pearl-white covering for the interior computer 'head' of the Phyrrian. Emitting from within this covering is a circular light, often a pale, bluish-green hue.
Meanwhile, Dean is standing on the top of ramp, observing their progress.
Departing a simple shuttle is an Aukami woman known as Kynaso. She glances around the living docking bay, headed towards who knows where. Honest, she just seems to be wandering around. Ah well.... the robots are noticed, and the woman heads in their direction. "Good day." Kynaso greets a random one.
A cyborg humanoid, massive creature of steel and flesh, enters the docking bay from the bustling tradeport beyond. It is a throbbing whirl of activity, the docking hub -- the smells of Hekayti sweat, Helot machine lubricant and who knows how many other pheromones and fluids forming a kind of soup of sentience here, in a chamber that is itself the desiccated womb of a living starship -- but it parts for Joshua MacNamara, the machine-thing. His expression is dark. One fleshy human finger touches an earbud in his ear. Snatches of his conversation make it through the din of the docking bay on a busy trading day.
"... well if you're not sure, send a scout! I'll get another ride ... test results show ... the neurojack needs to bond the human and the suit. If it doesn't ... we're out of business!"
Mack's path, cleared for him by Lotorian and Llivori merchants who opt to preserve structural ntegrity of their cargo over the purity of their own forward momentum, will clearly lead straight to the Obsidian Dust.
"Greetings," The unit known as HS-34 speaks towards Kynaso, turning away form it's duties to observe her with its ocular, the single 'eyelight' of the Phyrrian focusing in a little on her. "How are you today?" It's voice is electronic sounding, as if standard was its second language.
As the merchants and Macnamara move for the dust, the Helots help in their plight to keep a clearing for them to walk. They form a rudimentary alley of sorts, standing in the way of any traffic so that the group can easily reach the boarding ramp. All except HS-34.
Dean descends the ramp slowly, his feet clanking with an unusual weight to them.
"I would venture to say I'm doing fine." Doctor Vonakyr responds, "How about you?"
As MacNamara passes, the merchants of various sorts begin the laborious task of getting their cargoes moving again, to and fro, to wherever they are going. No living thing can leave an indelible mark on a place so dynamic as this, perhaps.
The cyborg passes Kynaso and moves to meet Dean near the ramp of the Obsidian Dust. "Dean," he says. "I think there's trouble."
"This unit is doing quite well, thank you for asking." HS-34 replies to the Doctor. A metallic and synthetic hand reaches out to shake. "This unit is called HS-34. What is your name?"
The rest of the Phyrrians collapse behind Mac and his buddies as they pass through, moving back to their duties. Dean meets Mac at the bottom of the ramp, a stern nod given towards the fellow cybernetic organism, "What is it?"
"My name would be Doctor Kynaso Vonakyr, nice to meet you, HS-34." The doctor replies. "Would you mind telling me what is happening?"
"My space station," Mack says. He's speaking with a degree of urgency, and is well within Kynaso's earshot. "It picked up some radiation and temporal distortion in a spot where there usually isn't any, not far from your corner of space and obviously close to ours. I think it's a fleet coming out of orbit. I sent a scout, but we should arrive in numbers. If it's a battle group of some kind coming to try and wipe us out ... time is of the essence, and we'll need the element of surprise."
It's only a half second of lightning calculations that HS-34 hears word of what is going on. "This unit has had cargo detail for the past 9 hours, 43 minutes and 12 seconds, but is being re-tasked. Please see the Overmind or Mr. Macnamara for detailed inquiry on the situation. It was nice meeting you." HS-34 indicates the two; Dean and Mack, before heading up the ramp.
The rest of the Helot Phyrrians seal the cargo bays after loading the last of it in.
"I see. I'll send word immediately to the Beach and Sea. Coordinates?" Dean speaks to Mack.
"Here." Mack produces a small tablet computer from a pocket and passes it to the human- looking Phyrrian. "We'd better move quickly. And make sure nobody finds out what we're doing. If this is some kind of attack, and the attackers get word that we're coming ..." His voice trails off as he notices, as if for the first time, that Kynaso has heard this entire thing.
"Hi," he says to her. "Who are you?"
"Hello, I'm doctor Kynaso Vonakyr. You should try to keep such conversations inside the ship if you want them to be private." A chuckle as the doctor's eyes turn gold. "Not that I'd know what to do with such information."
Dean takes the tablet in his hands and looks it over. A nod is given towards Mack, "Coming with me on the Dust?" His attention is also derailed as he glances over towards Kynaso. His countenance is rather emotionless for a moment, and a simple nod is given towards Macnamara.
Alhambra disembarks, at least, partially, from the Apollo; heading part-way down the docking ramp to sit. Apparently, the rough-looking crew-woman is out for some afternoon... fresh air? Not terribly fresh, apparently, as she sets an ash tray beside her and proceeds to light up a cigarette. The proceedings below are watched from a distance.
"I suppose so," Mack says with a nod. He blinks at Kynaso for a second. "Nice to meet you, Doctor. I'm Josh MacNamara. Perhaps you don't know what to do with what you've just heard -- which, by the way, sorry about that -- but I'm afraid I don't know you well enough to take that chance." he says. "You're going to have to come with us. I assure you that you won't be harmed."
"Is that a threat, mister MacNamara?" Doctor Kynaso says, her eyes suddenly turning Orange.
"It is not," ZO2-791 'Dean' replies to Doctor Kynaso, "You must understand thousands of lives are on the line." He turns towards Alhambra, waving her over towards him. "We have little time."
Vadim disembarks from the Apollo.
Alhambra's eyebrows work, and she squints over at Dean for a few moments before wariness turns to recognition. Slowly, she stands, carefully setting the ash tray back inside the Apollo and then lumbering back down the ramp. Once she has made it about 3/4ths of the way down, she jumps the rest of the way, landing with a solid *thump*. Still sort of guarded in her posture, she heads over to Dean, lifting her chin in greeting. "Hey."
MacNamara nods to Kynaso. "We are responsible for the lives of many," he says. "Do us this one favor and be our guest for a few hours, and you'll be treated with respect." He inhales and slowly exhales. "The other thing is that this is not a matter of negotiation. It's not a threat; it's just a declaration of fact." He blinks. "I could even compensate you for your time, if that would influence your decision."
Naoi disembarks the Aukam's Light.
"Well. Fine." The good doctor Kynaso's eyes are a deep shade of orange, leaning towards red, but she does nod to go along. "If, however, I get hurt during this voyage, I will not be likely to forgive you."
Dean extends his arm up the ramp of the Obsidian Dust, "This way, please." The Overmind looks towards Alhambra, "There's a situation near Mack's station... A serious one. We can't talk about it further out here, would you like to come? If so, please follow us." A nod towards Mack, "We're ready." He steps up the ramp of the Dust.
The docking hub is a bustling center of activity. Among the knots of movement here is the Obsidian Dust, where Mack, Dean and Kynaso are talking, and Helots are moving industriously. Alhambra is approaching the group.
Standing at the opening of the now closing Apollo airlock, stands Vadim, looking down over at Al. "Goin somewhere?" he asks, covering his mouth with hand to block moving air from putting out the flame he uses to light his cigarette.
MacNamara smiles. "I won't be likely to forgive myself either, if it makes you feel any better," Mack says. He gestures up the ramp. "Let me transmit one last message before I board, Dean: I have an, uh, asset in that area." He raises his voice to address Vadim: "Yes, Vadim, come along please." he gestures towards the Dust's ramp. "I'll explain on the way. We could use all the hands we can, I would think." He is loud enough to be heard by anyone in the knot of Outverser ships, most likely.
Naoi blinks at the preparation for the Dust to lift off, and news of a terrible situation, her gaze travelling to the Aukam's Light behind her before sighing. Then, quietly, she stalks to join the crew, clasping hands behind her back.
Alhambra nods at Vadim. "He's askin'." She jerks her head in Dean's direction, and pauses in her long stride over to the other group to give him a chance to catch up. "Y'wanna?"
And the doctor steps aboard. She doesn't seem happy with it, but well... Kynosa is smart enough to realize this is the better idea.
The Phyrrian Helots allow Kynosa aboard, one on each side of the airlock, as Dean nods to Mack. "Very well. I'll be waiting." A nod to Vadim as well as he dissapears into the Dust. Dean boards the Obsidian Dust.
Crew Quarters - Obsidian Dust
Compact and efficient, the crew quarters utilizes every square inch. Its two bunks are set on stilts near the bulkhead on the port and starboard sides. Squat, lockable cabinets are nestled where the headboards would be for personal storage. Under the starboard bunk is a mini refresher unit with a small airlock squeezed in next to it. Under the port bunk is a kitchenette, fridge, dishwasher and clothes washer. To the aft of the port bunk is the cylinder of a reactor, and to the aft of the starboard bunk are two E-suits. To the fore are two tall, narrow closets. Airlock-style doors lead fore to the cockpit, and aft to the cargo bay.
There's a comfy couch set up near a coffee table, where a holovid player is elevated. The closets have electronic locks on them.
"Please, make yourself comfortable." Dean speaks towards Kynosa as he passes her on his way to the cockpit, motioning to the couch with the holovid player nearby. "My name's Dean, this is my ship, the Obsidian Dust."
Two Phyrrian helots stand in front of the cargo bay entrance, and two more near the couch.
He nears the door of the cockpit, and it slides open.
Dean heads into Cockpit .
Cockpit - Obsidian Dust
Packed tight under a quarter bubble of plasteel, the cockpit features a single padded cloth swivel chair in front of a horseshoe-shaped set of consoles in bright brushed steel. A T-shaped yoke sits at the fore end of the consoles, with a small touch screen just above and behind it for the comm and sensor systems, and several pedals below. To the left, the console has places for an autopilot and astrogator, and to the right, engineering, shields, and a place for a weapons console. A short walkway behind the pilots chair holds a fire extinguisher in a niche in one wall above a fold-out seat and harness, and a folded E-suit in a niche in the other. An airlock-style door leads back to the crew quarters.
"Nice ship, I suppose. Where're we going?" Doctor Kynaso asks, idly. "If I'm going to be kidnapped, I'd at least like to know where to..."
Dean moves to the cockpit, pressing a few buttons and firing up the Obsidian Dust. Two Helots take station to the entrance of the cockpit, as well as two in front the cargo bay and two in the crew quarters. He looks at the datapad in his hand and quickly hits a few more buttons. He lets someone else respond to Kynaso.
"We're going to a spot in deep space not far from a cluster of fledgling colony worlds," Mack says. "Dean, Mr. Tostanovich here --" he gestures behind himself towards where he must presume Vadim to be, with no regard for whether or not he actually is at the moment -- "myself and a few others are leading a charge to establish colonies for us Outversers out beyond the frontier that your kind and the other races native to this territory have already explored. As you may have overheard, I detected someone else arriving in our new backyard."
He turns to Dean. "I happen to have a cruiser just seconds away. It was doing a weapons test. If that scout finds something, there may be combat going on as we arrive."
Naoi has arrived.
Alhambra's eyebrows rise, slowly. She turns to Vadim, a half-smile slowly forming. "...so we're going to your planet? Like, right now? Cool." After a brief pause, in which she is apparently pondering the 'cool'ness of said trip, she adds, with a glance around the cockpit, "...should probably sit or something, yeah?"
"You sure you want to start lettin people know where Materi Syna is?" Vadim says, from his spot near the rear of the cockpit. Using the bulkhead for a nice lean-to, he folds his arms across his chest, skepitcal. "Things...ain't ready yet. But I guess if we've already came out in the open about the Confederacy, nyet point of return now."
"If it's such a big secret, mister MacNamara shouldn't be talking about it in public spaces." Kynora suggests. "Kind of hard to keep secrets that way."
"Given the coordinates, I have one coming in from 43.67 degrees northeast and another coming in from the Epsilon Verge from 89.45 degrees...You'll be happy to see it doesn't take us too long to ready ourselves." Dean speaks up over his shoulder.
He motions towards the seats, "Everyone buckle in then, we'll be jumping soon." He takes the helm and manuevers it out of the docking hub of Comorro, the ship shaking slightly and then smoothing out as they lift off. He turns and emits a low sound of binary, his lips not moving and the sound coming out is a mixtures of whirrs and buzzes. The two Helots at the cockpit move away back towards the airlock.
Dean looks towards Macnamara, "What's the ETA on that scout?" Eyes move to Vadim and Alhambra, "If you think you can fly this better, be my guest, because chances are you can."
In the crew room: "Um," Naoi says, following one of the Phyrrians about at its heels. Wheels. Whatever it uses as locomotion. "Excuse me. I have inspected your kitchen and find that it most meticulous. I am also pleasantly surprised by the smell, as I was expecting something far more acidic of a cleaning solution. May I inquire as to what you use to polish the cabinets that give it such a pleasant aroma?"
"Just because she's in the ship," Mack says, "doesn't mean she can see the coordinates. People know it's out there, but one patch of space is largely the same, looks-wise, as any other, unless you're some kind of astronomical genius." He gestures at Kynora, vaguely. "And yes, I shouldn't have been running my mouth in public. But I was kind of excited." He looks down, somewhat pouty. He checks his watch. "Dean, the scout should be arriving there ... now. We are, I imagine, what, twenty minutes or so behind? A half an hour? We're traveling beyond the edge of known space, at least known to the likes of their kind." He gestures again to Kynora.
Vadim looks dubious at Mack, but he doesn't comment. Instead he gestures at Dean. "Da, I got if you don't feel much like flying." A drag from the smoke. "What's this weapons test you mentioned?"
In the crew room: The Phyrrian Helot turns to observe Naoi, its ocular fixating on her as it responds, "Yes. The Overmind has it among our routine duties to keep the kitchenette clean. Also, it is very rarely used. The product we use to both disinfect and clean the kitchenette, among other parts of the ship is; 'B'hira bliss' disinfectant."
MacNamara looks uneasily out the viewport, at the coruscating display produced by faster- than-light travel. "Like you said," he tells Vadim after a long moment's silence, "some things aren't ... ready. But depending on what's out there, you may see for yourself soon enough."
Dean lets Vadim take the main cockpit seat as he moves for the communications console, replying, "Good, I'll be able to communicate better with the cruisers and that scout this way."
He efficiently hits a few buttons as he replies to Mack, "twenty two minutes, forty-three seconds till estimated arrival."
In the crew room: "B'hiri Bliss sounds like an aphrodisiac," Naoi informs the Phyrrians. "Are you certain that it is a cleaning solution?"
Alhambra moves at a speed significantly beyond her usual state of 'casual,' and buckles herself into the seat closest to the 'front'. Her expression is not unlike someone getting on a very new rollercoaster for the very first time, anticipation mixed with 'here's hoping I don't make an ass out of myself'. Carefully, she drags her own cigarette across the sole of her boot to extinguish it. "Edge of known space," she muses. "Wild." Clearly fascinated, she watches her boss pilot the ship.
"Well... can I at least get a tour around that place?" Kynaso asks, she sounds kind of bored. "Oh.. and just so you know, just because you kidnapped me doesn't mean you get patched up for free... that would have happened no matter what you did."
In the crew room: The Helot, known as HS-23, replies, "Correction: B'hira bliss is the disinfectant brand. B'hiri bliss is a line of underworld aphrodisiac and lubricant supplies, as well as a slang term for the drug; 'Hydrocelline.'" A pause from the bot, "If your feeling hungry or thirsty, please don't hesitate to use our kitchenette. We're currently travelling at faster-than-light speed."
"Depends," Mack tells Kynaso. He tilts his head at her. "What kind of doctor did you say you were?"
"Your welcome to look around the crew quarters, if you'd like." The Overmind suggests, keeping focused at the comm console, rapping away at the keys.
Naoi wrinkles her nose at the Phyrrian, but simply nods. "Thank you for the correction, it is strange that such things such a world apart are named so similiar. Do you have customer reviews of B'hiri Bliss?"
Settling in at the pilot's station, station, Vadim looks at Kynaso, pondering wether or not she's actually serious. There's a shake of his head before he reguards Mack. "You really gotta stop picking up strangers off the street, Mac. My tolerance for being nice around people I don't know drops drastically. Al's a paramedic anyways, I ain't worried 'bout not being patched up."
Without another words, his hands glide over the controls, guiding them out of Comorro's bay and into space, shortly after the jumpdrive is engaged and off they go.
"I am a medical specialist, and I enjoy creative biology." Kynaso responds to that question. "Patching up is always free. My other services are kind of expensive. They are what I make my money with."
In the crew room: The Helot turns then, and is handed a pulse rifle by another Helot. It checks the condition of the weapon, while replying to Naoi, "No, this unit does not carry such data."
MacNamara smirks. "Creative biology," he says. "Right." To Vadim, he just shrugs. "So sorry, Vadim. I guess I'm just a people person." He folds his arms and leans back, clearly intent on taking a nap in the minutes they have before arriving. "Wake me when we're there."
In the crew room: "I see. Thank you." Naoi responds, and offers the Phyrrian a deep bow before turning to admire the sheen of the cabinets once more.
Alhambra is only half paying attention to the conversations going on around her, as she watches the intricacies of ship piloting, faster than light travel, and other items that would be of interest to someone who has, so far, only seen such things in movies. She vaguely looks over when her name is mentioned, and simply nods affirmatively before going back to watching the consoles and screens.
Vadim is quiet for some time. The ship doesn't really need to flown during a jump and he's able to smoke at his leisure. The beeping at his console earns his attention before shimmering colors of transit jump space comes to a close, light washing over before the darkness of space. "Alright. We're here. Where to?"
"What's the scout report?" Dean queries from his spot on the comm console, looking towards Macnamara.
In the crew room, Six of the Phyrrian Helots are armed and against the walls.
Mack is fast asleep when the ship drops out of faster-than-light travel, but the scene the Obsidian Dust is presented with is certainly lively. As the ship's optical scanners zoom in on various objects, they come into focus, shaky with the effort of magnifying them on the screens so as to be visible. In the middle distance, just outside of gun range, is a massive ship that looks to be of some kind of hacked-together Hekayti design: That is, its bones are Hekayti in origin, and the way things have been kludged on to this half-dome-looking vessel -- the flat surface is its forward edge -- is also akin to the way other Hekayti ships are built.
There are several smaller ships around the carrier, clearly destroyers.
There's something else around the carrier: Explosions. Beyond gun range from that carrier is a battle cruiser that looks 31st-century human in design, boxy, with a flat dorsal surface and bristling with small gun emplacements. It appears to be backing up in space, and as it does so, firing missiles from batteries along its forward edge. The missiles rocket through space and explode around the carrier and its attendants. Three of the five destroyers around that carrier break away into an assault formation, corkscrewing and evading their way through a wall of flame towards gun range with the cruiser.
"Oh joy." Kynaso sighs, her eyes a bright orange. "Nothing would happen to me, you said?"
MacNamara snorts awake in his seat. "Huh? What?" Blearily, he blinks. "Oh. It looks like trouble." He sleepily pokes the console in front of him. "I'm getting a report from the scout, the Forward Thinking," he says. "It's here and has already transmitted back to Tranquilis for reinforcements. That big ugly is some kind of Medlidikke pirate carrier; it was there when the Forward Thinking arrived. My ship here, the Tasker's --" he stops himself. "-- uh, my cruiser arrived fifteen minutes ago and engaged five minutes ago. My missiles have longer range than the Hekayti weapons, but those destroyers will close in very soon. We should get behind the cruiser's artillery screen before the gunfire starts." He glances at Kynaso. "Nothing's going to happen to you!" He repeats. Pause. "I think."
Inside the crew room: Naoi is sniffing the cabinets. At least she is not licking them, one supposes. When the sound of proximity alarms go off, courtesy of the combat that the small team is moving toward, she looks up to the ceiling and hunches her shoulder. "I hate space battles...."
Alhambra goes straight from looking 'curious and interested' to 'wary as hell' upon seeing the space -battle- going on. "...huh," she murmurs."
"Wake him up, damn it, there's a fucki..." Dean starts to speak loudly when Mac snaps awake. "Good." He looks towards Macnamara, "The Steel Beach and Scarlet Sea are arriving momentarily. They're synchronized to arrive at the same time." He points out the view port in the exact directon they'll be arriving from.
From the bleakness of space, where Dean is pointing, two flashes of light emerge as promised, a very respectable jump considering the distance they are from the other ships. They're a hybrid design, a new-decimator class cruiser with technology from two different Phyrrian eras.
They arrive at the angles mentioned by Dean, arching towards the three enemy destroyers on a sort of uninvited flanking manuever. They're just out of reach of their missles, but the guns and shields are prepared, aiming towards the destroyers that move towards the 31st century cruiser.
"Watching a space battle from up close is something I haven't done before... not sure I want to, however." Kynosa sighs and leans back, "If I die here, who is going to inform my family? They kinda deserve to know that, in case it happens.."
"Huh." Mack frowns. "Hang on. -- Forward Thinking, say again, the weapon is aboard?" He pauses. "Understood. Permission granted." Mack turns to those assembled. "Dean, leave one of those destroyers alone. The Forward Thinking is directing telemetry to your group. My cruiser will keep that carrier out of the shorter-range engagement. We're going to test our weapon on the destroyer you leave alone. Can you zoom in on that ship?" He points to a destroyer. "Kynosa, you'll want to see this. Hey, Naoi!" He calls over his shoulder. "Let me show you something."
Naoi's head pokes around the door, clearly unwilling to come onto the cockpit unless it is an emergency. "Yes, Professor?"
"Aw fuck." Vadim mutters, to actually take the ship controls somewhat seriously. "Knew we should've taken the Apollo. Least the Apollo can defend itself." Hands on the controls, the Jackal veers the Dust outside of weapon range. "So that whole thing 'bout pirates in this sector. Guess that ain't nyet myth anymore. The hoop is Razor's TDF?"
"Relaying the orders, we've got the two closest to us," Dean says with a nod, hitting a few keys on the comm console, "I'm sending word to the Trade Defense Fleet as well." A few more button presses and then he looks up towards the zoomed in destroyer. "You got the first shot, we're just about to close into missle range and hit the other two."
"Pirates?" Al echoes, a faint, quizzical note in her voice. Her hands flex, idly, as she watches the action on-screen. She doesn't comment much more, however, leaving the 'business' to the professionals.
"Just drop me back off at Comorro, please. I don't feel like a real space battle is going to entertain me... knowing that it's real people being killed." Is that a doctor talking? Why yes... it's doctor Kynaso Vonakyr talking.
With a silent hiss of escaping air, a single missile leaves the cruiser's bays and goes in a different direction than the others -- the others following that carrier, which is now pulling away and attempting to get out of the cruiser's missile range.
The missile detonates against one side of the destroyer, its shields flickering away with the force of the blast.
Mack directs the Obsidian Dust's visual sensors towards a streak approaching the Medlidikke destroyer: the Forward Thinking. Its airlock hatch is open, and in it stands a massive figure, wearing something that looks like a worksuit on steroids.
"Confirmed," Mack says into a commlink. "Launch the weapon." He turns to Kynaso, his voice sober. "It's them or us," he says. "And I'd like to ask that you help us after the battle is over. There will be wounded."
Naoi is just lingering at the door.
It takes a bit of time, but the TDF does arrive! Perhaps they wont have much to add to the fight, just a handful of modified freighters, but the group of them materialize in blue flashes on the periphery of the battle. The comms crackle, "Someone called? Wherre do you need us?" the low growl of Garvi's voice can be heard.
Dean hits a few more keys on the comm console, looking back towards the doctor a moment, "Please." It does sound genuine. His eyes re-focus on the visuals, squinting just slightly. "Open fire." He speaks into the comms towards the New Phyrrian Enclave ships, and then responds to the TDF, "Stay out of carrier range, but there's still two more destroyers there..."
In the crew room, a Helot motions Naoi to enter the cockpit. "Please, if you would."
The two large Phyrrian cruisers seem to focus in on two of the three destroyers, namely the one that isn't having a weapons test run on it, courtesy of Mack's cruiser. Heyakti destroyers are something to be feared, but New-Phyrrian cruisers are in a whole different ballpark. The larger ships come from the side of the attacking destroyers and in a split moment, with cohesion, both the Steel Beach and Scarlet Sea open up with their missle batteries, one aimed at each of the untouched destroyers.
"I'll help out as much as I can. I assume you have a proper medical bay stowed away somewhere?" Doctor Kynaso's eyes have started to glow green instead of the orange they had been so far.
"Huh," Vadim notes, glancing at the scanner when new blips show up. "Didn't actually think they'd show up." Still, he's keeping the Dust out of combat. No point in testing a ship that most likely doesn't have any kind of offense. "Garviel, it's Vadim." he replies, keying in a secure channel. "Funny you dropped by. I'd stay out of the fight if I were you. Mack has a new toy or something he's going to try out. I figure something bad is going to happen to a ship somewhere in there...so...da. You can just meet up with the Dust. We're just sorta...watching."
Alhambra just -stares- at all of the multi-planet multi-dimensional 'things' flying around and shooting the heck out of each other with other things. Her gaze slides very briefly over to Kynaso when she asks to be dropped off, then over MacNamara when he mentions that there will be wounded. Other than a thoughtful grunt or two, however, she stays quiet.
As the space battle rages, that figure in the Forward Thinking's airlock explodes out of it, thrusters burning at its heels. It zips towards the injured destroyer, latches onto its hull, and appears to dig into that hull with its bare hands. There are a few moments of struggle, and then it starts to pull the hull of the destroyer open not unlike opening a can of sardines. The figure twists out of the way as a rush of escaping air passes it by; then it climbs into the resulting vacuum and is gone.
"I call this weapon the gosuku, after the armor ancient samurai wore into battle millenia ago. Inside is a human -- well, a Lunite actually. He's operating the thing using a neural link attached to his brain stem, a neurojack."
Dean observes the display with keen interest, "Impressive. He tore through that hull easily it seems." He keeps hitting keys on the communication console, not even looking at it.
"There's a medical bay on my cruiser," Mack tells Kynaso, clearly distracted by the gosuku- clad marine disappearing into the destroyer. "But if it's all the same to you, I think we should board that destroyer. Dean, can you put your Helots to work establishing a perimeter inside? We'll be taking prisoners. Doctor, you and Al could tend to them."
"Ten fourr," Garvi replies to Dean. There's a pause as the TDF ships continue to move forward, "I copy, Vadim. Which do you two want us to do? We can harrass enemy ships, so long as we arren't on ourr own. We don't have the tonage to engage these ships on ourr own,"
One of the Destroyers facing Dean's ships begins to vent flames, pieces of hull peeling off and tumbling out into space. The other Destroyer continues to trade blows, but it looks like it's out of it's class. The two other Destroyers move away from the carrier, heading towards the TDF ships, "Belay that, we have incoming, we need supporrt ASAP," Garvi states.
"Oh, joy. Great joy. I am the kidnappee, remember? Didn't choose to go along on this trip and everything." Kynosa's eyes go black to orange. "Fine. Those folks deserve to be taken care of anyway."
"Get out there, Garvi. You ain't nyet match for a damn destroyer." Vadim replies hurriedly. A glance away from his controls goes to Mack and Dean. "You're the two with all the toys. C'mon, don't leave them hanging out there."
MacNamara appears to hear something he doesn't like. He takes out a tablet computer and looks at it. "Oh no," he says. "My marine. His vital signs, they're piped through to us with sensors in the gosuku.. Something ... I don't get it." He glances up at Dean. "Send one of yours, I -- I have to try and understand." He squints. "Ugh. I never learned enough about first aid to read these."
The Steel Beach closes on the remaining destroyer, dishing out a full salvo of plasma weaponry, not too much unlike the Phyrrian Decimators that devastated the Outversers old universe. Something's modified about it though. Either way, it rains plasma on the smaller Heykati warship.
The Scarlet Sea archs away from the attack, moving to intercept the destroyers headed for the TDF ships. An electronic Phyrrian voice is emitted over all comms, "Support incoming. Requesting aid from the Tasker's Lament as well, if available." The Phyrrian crusier moves on an interception trajectory with the destroyers, readying another barrage as they close on weapon range.
"Damn it, mister MacNamara, hand me that tablet." The Aukami doctor reaches out for it to take a glance over the thing. "I am a doctor, I should be able to make some sense out of it."
Alhambra unclips her seat harness, and gets slowly to her feet. "All right," she rumbles to MacNamara, watching assorted calamities unfold with caution, and leaning out of the way of the Aukami's reaching arm without skipping a beat. "Where to?"
Dean moves away from the console to stand behind Vadim and observe the battle. A look towards the tablet and then a nod towards the doctor/kidnappee. "Can you make sense of it?"
MacNamara allows the tablet to be yanked from his hands. "REN ARNASSIS," the subject is named. It shows his brainwave activity, the integrity of the neural link between his brain and the machine, his heart rate, and levels of adrenaline and certain other bodily metrics -- levels of hormones like testosterone, endorphins, etc. The subject's brainwave activity is trending down, but his hormone and adrenaline levels are trending up.
The Steel Beach rips open the remaining destroyer like a hungry Norwegian rips open a can of sardines. The reactor must have gone critical, because a bright light appears suddenly, and then the destroyer is consumed in a silent fireball.
"The supporrt is apprreciated," Garvi states, "And so is the sentiments, Vadim, but we can't get out of herre quick enough, we'll distrract them as best we can," and the freighters do just that, darting about as quick as they can to do some surface damage and distract the enemy gunners.
"I don't like this," Mack says. "Dean, can you dock with that destroyer and send your Helots in?" He pulls himself to his feet. "We have to figure out what's going on."
Dean nods in response to Macnamara, pointing out the viewport. "Vadim, take us in on that destroyer. I'll ready the crew for boarding."
The Obsidian Dust archs towards the crippled Heykati destroyer with Mack's Gosuku in it.
"Okay, anyone combat effective, we are going to board the destroyer. I have rifles if you are in need of weaponry. All Helot units, prepare for boarding procedures."
The Helot units all start checking their weaponry and line up against the wall facing the airlock.
Phyrrians aren't well known for their mercy. Immediately following the destruction of another destroyer, in a manner that would make a 31st century Waldheim citizen cringe, the NPE Scarlet Sea takes the opportunity to fire another deadly salvo of plasma weaponry down upon the last intact destroyer, thanks to the distraction caused by the TDF ships.
"Curious. The patient is in need of medical attention, but all I can figure out right now seems to be some sort of berserker rage.... you sure this Neurojack thing doesn't have any risk of side effects?" Kynosa sighs, and looks up at Dean, "I'll come with you. But I'm warning you, the patient seems to be succumbing to the machine, and might not be in control of his actions. Nonetheless, he needs medical attention."
"Neurojacks have been used in the past," Mack says, drawing and priming a large plasma pistol. "They've been successful and safe for years. But this is a more complicated machine, and it's being used in a higher-stress environment ... there's no real way of knowing if this is a malfunction of the machine or ..." He shrugs. "or of the man." He exhales, expression grim.
"Let's go. Kynosa, that tablet can also track his location and his comm traffic. The Forward Thinking says he went unresponsive several minutes ago, but listening it, it sounds like he's been ... busy."
Between the TDF ships and the Phyrrian cruiser, the remaining two Destroyers are taken care of. One goes down in silent flames again, with secondary explosions rippling along the hull.
The final Destroyer starts trying to limp away, venting atmosphere (and crew) from multiple hull breaches. The carrier? Well, it starts collecting any fighters that it may have left, obviously these crews know when they're beaten.
And Garvi seems to know when they've won, too, a howl of victory can be heard over the comms, along with some cheering from the TDF ships.
Alhambra watches the view-screen quietly. The business with the data pad and talk of neural jacks and berserker rage gets a raised eyebrow. "Uh, sirs?" She rumbles in the general direction of Mac and Dean, "...don't know much about what's goin' on with your boy, but just point me where you need me, yeah?"
The Obsidian dust zooms in and is able took onto the destroyer, finding a spot to board. The ship shakes as the union between the ships is secured. "We're good," Dean speaks, looking towards the ready Helots, and then Al, "You coming along? Need a rifle?"
The Scarlet Sea's comms open up, the Phyrrian Pilot's electronic voice is heard speaking, "Well fought; a clear victory. They're pulling back." The two Phyrrian cruisers move to regroup then.
MacNamara nods to Alhambra. He smiles reassuringly. "Stay close," he says, glancing between Alhambra and Kyno. He checks the levels on his plasma pistol, then glances at Dean and the Helots. "Let's move."
"Will do, sir." And Kynaso quickly gets dressed in an e-suit, following Mack along to the target ship. "I'm a strict non-combatant, so I will be useless in a fight."
Dean gives Alhambra a suit and pulse rifle, waiting for her to put it on before he nods to the Helots.
The Phyrrian Helots, now armed to the teeth and weapons ready, punch open the airlock and roll out like the bots they are. Their guns are raised into their hands, their aim steady even as they move along their hoof-like feet. Dean raises two pistols, following after the fellow Phyrrians as he looks around to observe the damage within the Heykati destroyer.
MacNamara grins at Kynaso. "Just stay behind me and the Phyrrians," he says, "and keep your head down."
"Neh," Al rumbles in response to Dean, passing the rifle back. "Can't shoot for shit, pardon, kinda a close-quarters girl, yeah?" Both eyebrows raise at Mac's request; but, with a one-shouldered shrug, she does as directed, snagging an emergency aid kit on her way by. "All right, let's do this thing."
Interior - Pirate Ship
The interior of the destroyer is a maze of corridors and bulkheads, cramped by Hekayti standards, and bookended by a bridge forward and among the upper decks, and an engineering section aft among the lower decks. The entire affair is very utilitarian: All gunmetal gray corridors and information stenciled along the bulkheads in a no-nonsense Hekayti script. It is also, apparently, not well cared for: Rust lines the junctions of pipes and conduits, lighting occasionally flickers even under optimal conditions, and doors and hatchways squeak as they are used.
The TDF ships continue to harry the limping Destroyer, as well as taking out a couple of the retreating fighters. Their part in this battle appears to be primarily over, however, as the Carrier disappears in a blue flash.
The lights are set to emergency red here in the destroyer and are flickering. Some hatches the Helots and the other group can see are closed, with "DANGER: PRESSURE LOSS" flickering on indicators above them in Hekayan script. To the Helots' right, down a straight hatchway, is the sound of gunfire and screaming. From the left comes actual pulse fire as the lead Helot steps out into a T-junction of the corridor.
Coming through Kynaso's tablet is the sound of Arnassis' breathing, shallow and quick. In Hekayan, screams: "NO -- STOP -- AAARGH!" kinds of things. Periodically, the sound of pulse fire, or a sickening thud as of meat on a hard metallic surface. Crunching bones. The stomping of impossibly heavy feet on hullsteel. Occasionally, a "plink plink plink," as of rain on a tin roof.
The lead Helot lets out a binary groan and whine as it takes a shot of pulse fire, hitting its armor. It remains intact however, hitting the wall of the T junction, the other Helots lined up behind. One is crouched and leaned over so it can get some shots in as well, looking to observe who the attacker is and firing back accordingly.
Dean translates, though its obvious, "Contacts." He holds his pistols up and nods to Mack and the others. "What can you see?" He tries to get a glance himself.
Carefully advancing behind the armed folks, Kynaso goes over several options, mentally that is. She is also paying a load of attention to the tablet, "Is he even still in control of his own actions? According to this... it almost seems as though he's not even concious. Though he does seem to be hyperventilating. I would suggest sedating him, but right now... " She pauses, and looks at the tablet. "I might have an idea. Mister Arnassis.. it's time to wake up. The sun is shining... somewhere anyway. And breakfast is ready."
There are three Hekayti -- Medlidikke, obviously -- crouched around the edges of a hatch at the far end of the corridor the Helot stepped into. They have high-powered pulse assault weaponry, and start laying down suppressing fire as soon as one of the other Helots tries to return fire.
- The breathing coming through the feed from Ren appears to change rhythm. Kynaso can see that his brainwave activity marginally increases, although he doesn't respond, and his other levels don't change. There's a pause in the shooting and screaming, then one projectile shot, a shout, and a loud thud.
Alhambra seriously hangs back, staying close to Mack, as previously instructed, and keeping very quiet. Perhaps she's hoping that by staying still and not making noise, she can avoid becoming a part of Alien Shootout.
MacNamara puts his back against the wall, gun at the ready. He glances at Kynaso, then glances down the other end of the T-corridor they're at -- the direction from which Ren may come.
"I need someone close to him to address him." Kynaso calls out, looking mainly at MacNamara. "Someone who he knows and trusts, I am getting a minor response from my attempts to contact him."
Another binary whir and buzz; kind of like dial-up starting, and a stun grenade is handed from Helot to Helot, down the line, until it ends up in the hands of the Helot who been shot, closest to the edge. "Tossing." It speaks in an electronic-toned standard. It hurls the grenade around the corner.
- BANG* The loud noise is accompanied with a bright flash for the Heykati. All six Helots
round the corner then, moving to fire on the hopefully stunned Medlidikke, along with Dean, who fires one of his pistols for the sake of accuracy.
The Hekayti growl at one another and scramble to jump out of the way as they recognize the presence of a stun grenade. Two get clear in time, and are able to return fire at the Helots as they charge; a third does not and is impaled by a hail of pulse blasts. Like the Helots, the
Hekayti are exposed; this battle won't take long.
MacNamara chuckles. "Good luck," he says, grimly, to Kynaso. "He doesn't trust me any farther than he could throw me. But maybe if he could see who he was talking to ..."
As if on cue, there's a wailing curse in Hekayti -- as a Medlidikke goes flying past the corridor junction where the group of Outversers just broke out, towards the backs of the Helots.
Following that projectile is the sound of rapidly accelerating, heavy footsteps.
"You... want me to go in there?" Somehow, Kynaso doesn't sound very convinced of the soundness of that idea. Yet, she still does it. She marches onward, "Mister Arnassis, how are you feeling? I'm doctor Kynaso Vonakyr, and I think you might have had a little problem."
"Go, go go!" Dean speaks, issuing the charge of the Helots. They're very formidable, the shots from the Heykati hitting their armor and not yet punching through, only stumbling them.
Dean is at the rear, herding his units forwards to overtake the Heykati. As the flying Medlikke comes, it knocks over two of the units, and Dean holds his ground, the rapid fire of the pulse weaponry exhanging shots as he looks behind him for a possible charging Ren. And then the doctor gets in the way. "Wait! Maybe you shouldn't..." The two fallen Helots push the Heykati off and start to get to their feet.
Seeing Kynaso actually step -into- the corridor, Mack, hand outstretched, reaches after her to try to grab her and pull her back. "Hey --" he begins, but doesn't finish.
"Outta my way!" Ren Arnassis growls, and with a dipped shoulder, he knocks Mack -- the huge cyborg -- off of his feet and against the bulkhead behind him. He might clip Kynaso, too, if she's not quick enough. Mack grunts in pain and slumps, his cybernetic eye flickering.
Arnassis goes stomping past, and it looks like he may do the same thing to the Helots that he did to Mack. There's another hatch beyond the one the Helots just cleared, and Arnassis wildly fires an oversized pulse assault rifle at that hatch. Sure enough, two more Medlidikke try to return fire.
If Kynaso manages to look, she'd see that Ren's brainwaves come back when he interacts, but go back to base levels when he returns to fighting.
Alhambra watches the pirate go flying past, pressing her back against the wall. "Huh," she rumbles, pressing even -harder- against the wall when Ren goes rampaging by. "Well, -shit-."
Okay... bad idea. Kynaso evades Ren's push, but only barely. "Calm down, mister Arnassis." She says, then looks to be concentrating, apparently trying to lift Ren into the sky and locking him there. It's obvious she's not the most experienced at this... but she's trying. "Do I have to restrain you, mister Arnassis?"
"Evasive manuevers, incomi...!" Dean orders the Helots, who hit the sides of the hatchway to allow passage. Dean, a good 542 lbs, is hammered into the hull of the destroyer with a nasty -clank- of metal on metal, a few sharp edges causing some lacerations. A Helot is hit similarily to the side by the other arm in passing, giving an electronic groan. Dean recovers, grabbing the damaged Helot and pulling a retreat, allowing Ren to do his thing down the hatchway. He's bleeding heavily on his right side from where he was hammered into the wall. The Helots reach the T junction and swarm the Overmind, ascessing damage. "It's superficial," Dean says, motioning them away as he bleeds on the ground. He looks towards Mack, "It hits like a hovertrain!...Hey. You alright?"
Dean sets the damaged Phyrrian Helot down, and one of the others start to tend to it, making field repairs.
Kynaso's telekinetic attempt slows but cannot stop Arnassis - he's just too heavy in that suit. As he approaches the hatch, the Medlidikke behind it step full out of cover to try and stop him with pulse rifle fire, but the pulse blasts do little more than leave burn marks on the front of his armor. He leans forward to grab one of the Medlidikke, who is baffled at the ineffectiveness of their weapons. As he does so, he is lifted into the air, but he still grabs Medlidikke One with his free hand -- fingers digging into the pirate's armor -- and slams it full on into Medlidikke Two. They both slam against the side of the hatch hard enough to leave a dent. "DON'T GET IN MY WAY," he rages, turning to throw that one back at the others, too.
MacNamara is struggling with consciousness, slumped over in the hatchway. ... of the T-junction where the group first arrived.
"Sweet Jesus," Alhambra breathes, watching Arnassis rampage his way around the corridor. Throwing herself to the ground to avoid a carelessly flung -pirate-, she crawls over to the barely conscious MacNamara.
"Does anyone have any EMP with them?" Kynaso is getting desperate now, her attempts to reach the man inside the machine failing. "Perhaps if we shut down the machine, the man will awaken again." She's also distracted with keeping Ren in the air.
Mack's vital signs are hard to get a handle on if Alhambra tries to check his pulse at the wrist, but at the neck it's clear that he's doing OK that way. He's bleeding a little from the back of the head. There's some chrome back there that helped spread some of the impact. His organic eye's pupil is dilated; his cybernetic one flickers on and off.
Dean bats down the flying Heykati with unnatural strength, motioning three of the Helots to fall back and bring the damaged one with them. He takes cover behind the wall. "Ren! You did your job! We've won. We're your allies." One of the Helots, the engineer of the group, looks down to see if he can repair any of Mack's cybernetic parts.
"Well, shit. I don't know if I got a blowtorch in here, fella," Alhambra murmurs to Mac. Regardless, she starts taking stabilizing measures, snapping gauze out of the kit and applying appropriate pressure/bandages to the bleeding bits. The Helot gets a raised eyebrow, and a quiet "Hey, thanks," as she continues working.
Ren Arnassis tries to run towards the others, but, of course, he's levitating, so that's not working. "I'm in command here!" He says. "I'll say when this mission is over, not you!" He points his rifle at Kynaso. "Hey, mood ring: Put. Me. Down. What the hell're you doin' if yer my ally?"
The longer he rants and raves, the more work Arnassis' brain seems to be doing.
"I'm trying to help you here, mister Arnassis. But sure, I'll put you down." Kynaso never said she'd do it gently. And she doesn't. She inverts the upwards force downwards until he connects with the floor, then stops. "I am a medical specialist, and that machine seems to be quite effective at taking out your conciousness, I'd recommend shutting it down."
Between Alhambra's ministrations and the Helot's, Mack is bandaged and his dents buffed out. He stirs and starts to come to; Alhambra could tell he's probably suffered a nice sized concussion and can expect to be feeling fuzzy for the next couple of days.
"The hell're yew talkin' about," Ren retorts, grunting as his boots slam on the deck. He lowers his rifle when he's placed on the ground. He gives Dean a suspicious look. "Fuckin' Phyrrians," he says. "If yer on our side, then make yerselves useful and mop up. I already vented the bridge. There shouldn' be too many alive."
"Ho, ho, easy, fella," Al murmurs as Mack starts to move. "You're scrambled. Hey. Look at me. Look at me, yeah?" Her gravelly voice is gentle, and she moves her hand back and forth in front of the cyborg's organic eye, trying to get its attention. "C'mon, now. Theere you go."
"Don't trust me, do you? Well, I've been paying attention to your brain waves, they were dangerously low just a bit back. You've been coming back since I contacted you." The Aukami retorts. "Or do you think that's all a lie?"
MacNamara tracks Al's finger with extreme difficulty. "What ... happened?"
"Don't worry," Dean replies towards Ren, "We will. Just calm down." The Phyrrian Helots emerge from the corner along with Dean, moving to mop up the ship. Phyrrians don't need gravity or air, and aren't affected by pressure in the same way. "Good job," Dean notes as he moves to pass Ren, "We got all five of their destroyers. Carrier jumped away."
Ren Arnassis frowns at Kyn and Dean. "I am calm, goddammit," he says. Moving aft again despite Kyn's mental pressure, he moves to pass them. "I'm goin' out the same way I went in for retrieval. Those were the orders. That's what I'm gon' do." Darkly, the Lunite stalks past. "Stay out of my way."
"You got hit by yer ghost-u-coo," Alhambra replies, working to draw Mac's gaze up to her face and keep it there. "Then you got hit by a wall. Kinda scrambled your headmeats a bit, yeah? Just focus, fella."
Ren slips out through the hole he created, and the Phyrrians drag back a couple Heykati prisoners back into the Dust, unconcious. The Dust detaches from the Heykati destroyer and returns to Comorro.