Zakary sighs. Have to do everything myself. This whole ship is going to go down in flames. Why do I even try?
He opens the hatch, gets into the gunner's seat for the external rail gun, and starts shooting anything that gets close to them.
Rosie wonders why no one has gotten into the escape pods yet. She clambers out of her hiding place up to the viewscreen to see what is going on. While trying to find the controls to monitor the in-ship audio, she accidentally pressed the wrong button, and launches the escape pod--STRAIGHT TOWARDS THE STATION!
She panics and is paralyzed with fear. She's only a Janitorbot, how will she ever cope with this situation?
K'kth'ki clicks cheerfully as it mans one of the guns. It uses four of its tentacles operate the controls, targeting the station's defenses, while flailing the other two tentacles excitedly over its head.
Yes! Destroy them all!!
Frank curses. He leaves his ship and heads back into the Shuttle Bay. His footing is rocked by the explosive forces outside. He planned to turn on his ship's ablative shielding. The emitters produce the densest material in the physical universe which is continually regenerated as the quickly aging shield matter evaporates to a different quantum reality.
He was going to rip a hole in this compartment and he needed to seal off this section. Just then, he hears an escape pod launch. He ran to the Pod launcher. He sees a servicebot (Rosie). Hey. I could use you. I think I have a military combat software package on my ship. Follow me, Hurry.
Frank heads to close all the airlocks to the shuttlebay.
After the last airlock, Frank settles into the captain's chair of the Crotch Rocket. He puts on his HUD. An emergent AI, engineered death swimming in my veins, and the ship is under attack. Now, let's go beat Lord Bunghole to death, and take our cure.
The Sapphire Light put on some soothing music for the crew of the doomed ship. She also takes a ninosecond to back herself up into her EVA Drone and send it with Frank to his ship. As the drone passes the servicebot Rosie i sends a flash code message.
"Best get in here or your scrap, the morons up there are going this crash this ship into the station. Time to run away"
Meanwhile on the flight deck The Sapphire Light is sending a ship wide massage to help the crew.
"Please be relaxed the translation for living to... noneliving will take place shortly. I understand some of you may find this stressful so I have put of some relaxing music and activated all the Electronic-Praying booths on the ship at no cost to the crew. Goodbye and have a good after life."
She winks out of being.
Meanwhile the EVA Drone follows Frank in to the Crotch Rocket and links with the on ship AI bring data up to his HMD and platting the best couse away from the doomed ship
"Frank I have plotted us a vector that will used the main ship as a shield from the station weapons. We should be able to land on it undetected."
The EVA Exploiter Drone was massively over engineered for hostile environment, meaning it was nearly impossible to damage how ever its only armament was a stupidly over powered rock blasting mazar, used for blasting tunnels into asteroids. Useless as close ship born combat, as it took ages to target and power up. she had no intention of using that inside a craft with anyone in it. However her senses where impressive. But what was really useful was the shield emitters which let her really move things.
She played at locking and unlocked her G webbing.
it was fun to have some kind of hands
There's only one gunnery console on the bridge that Fours knows of - and he should know, he's got the shirt and graduation certificate to prove it! Top 30 in his class. With K'kth'ki finished probing the console's innermost regions Fours backs away allowing K'kth'ki's tentacles to roam freely over the controls. What the hell is that thing?! Is he even qualified?
The update complete, the security officer's comp pad whirls to life interrupting his chain of thought. In an easy to read Henny Penny font, green for Mysterious Figure and red for the nanovirus matter, Four's app displays the results of its scan of the Mysterious Figure. There's a clear division between the nanostuff and Mysterious Figure. Ma'am! I think I've got something! Permission to use the teleporter array!
In his excitement the security officer leaves the bridge and crosses the hall to the teleporter, forgetting to wait on Zanababe's approving glare. There's a sparkle in those eyes, he thought. He can tell, he'd recently completed a seminar class in reading body language.
|
YES!
As The Sapphire Light analyses the current wave-form of flying death and hover-shielding, she finds a docking hatch that seems to be in a minimum number of fire fields.
Theoretically, the Angel could close on that. After securing an airlock you could try to force it open.
After that, things get wibbly-wobbly.
**********
The Crotch Rocket, your baby, has its main power feed wired directly into the bleeding-edge shielding system, the whole thing itself cleverly stolen from Ceres Industries MechWorks. Just to get the thing connected and running cost as much as a whole other ship, but many times you've been able to withstand the pursuing fire from Imperial SPace Police to make a good run.
Alas, this means that the power supply to the weapons has been neglected, but you could never destroy a ISP cruiser on your own anyway.
You here a friendly female voice enter the pilot's compartment: "I'm sorry darling, but sensors indicate objects are still within minimum safe distance. Activation of the ablative shielding may result in damage. We are unable to activate it at this time.
Now wouldn't you much rather I make you a nice herbal tea instead?"
***********
***************
Zanbabe's inspired piloting not only dodges an incoming fusillade, but also puts the tentacled alien into a perfect angel to destroy two of the smaller fighter-defense pods along the station.
Rosie hears someone talking to her, although it is hard to discern through the sound of "AAAAAuuuuugggghhh" in her mind. She realizes that instead of launching the escape pod with herself inside, she launched it from elsewhere. That's a relief.
But now, of course, someone else is commanding her to do something, so she obediently joins Frank Stratton in his ship... hurtling to her death, which is where she expected to be all along.
Zanbabe's expert piloting dodges death like a pro.
She turns triumphantly to respond to Fours, and ... he isn't there.
Did Fours die already?
In a volcanic surge of self-revelation Rosie realizes that she doesn't have to be a janitorbot just because Zanbabe assigned her that job. She doesn't have to do whatever people say. She's free. And here she is, on a dangerous mission. Yes, they might die. But at least she won't have to clean up after the dog!
Zakary shoots at all the incoming missles. There were so many, it was actually pretty hard to miss anything.
Sapphire makes everyone on ship free tea by the local drinks dispenser
Make Coffee
"And while your experiencing the end how about a nice hot cup of joe"
Fours sets his comp pad on the teleport console automatically synching the two devices. In theory it seemed like a simple enough process, just a quick cut and paste job. He'd done that before. Fours is a whiz with Word Processing stuff. Before signing on with the security firm he'd possessed as a ghost writer, helping foreign students ace their language assignments. Times were simpler then...
Dragging his finger from one side of the comp pad to the other he transferred the pad's information over to the teleporter. The schematics appeared on the console in red and green and Fours highlighted the red nanovirus stuff then selected the cut option. Opening the teleporter's destination utility the security officer pasted the nanovirus' information there then typed in a set of coordinates - outside the ship.
Using the teleporter console, Fours scans himself this time. Once the image materialized on screen he begins the process of isolating the nanovirus festering inside himself. Careful to match the schematics from his comp pad to the teleporter console reading, Fours selects himself as the source then hits enter. The screen filled with lines of algorithms and programming, whizzing past far to quickly for him to comprehend.
Trusting in the computing gods Fours clicks 'OK' and returns to the utility file. The body outline image designated SO 4-44 displaying both green matter and red nanomatter appears and Fours excitedly exclaims, Thank the gods for user friendly programs! He repeats the cut and paste process, highlighting the red nanovirus and typing in the destination coordinates. Palms sweating the security officer wipes his hands on his black pants then clicks 'OK'
Meanwhile, back in the medbay...
Lisa continues to struggle against the slowly worsening symptoms and conducts test after test. Finding their own cure was a long shot, but if the plan to retrieve the antidote failed, it might be their only chance.
More tests and stuff...
Moves in Shadows (that's what she thinks of herself as, but when she introduces herself to other people, she uses the name Denise Nickols, for which she has *all* the appropriate documentation) leaves her little cubbyhole of an "office" to go over to the General Store. "Hey, Gorn, you ever heard of a man named Borak? Any idea where I might find him?"
Unbelievably the screen changes and the teleporter reports it is ready to initialize. Fours looks around, Could it really be that easy? A spasm of coughing and twitching reminds Fours the clock is ticking. Quickly he locates the voice activation control and switches it on.
Stepping anxiously onto the teleporter platform Fours suddenly remembers what happened to Jerry. As uncomforting as that thought may be Fours knows they're all gonna die anyways. Recalling his training, "What to Do When Facing Certain Death", Fours takes his place on the platform. In position the security officer exhales, Initialize teleport, then closes his eyes.
|
"Oh hi Denise!" Gorn replies as a sappy little grin grows along his face. He studiously stops whatever he's doing and comes over.
As you mention Borak, the smile runs from his face and he leans down close to you. "Hey now," he says, the smile running away from his face and his voice rumbling, betraying his warrior's youth, "what do you want with him?"
De-bugs her drone systems and EVA seals it to all external environments.
Riven finally jolts back minto action his distractions having rendered him immobile for critical nanoseconds whiole the bridge was a flurry of action. He returns to his science console and begins another attempt to hack to point defense guns and cause them to overload.
Inspiration strikes Rowdy and he goes off in search for his ball.
Right where he left it.
You gonna sit back while the security officer patiently bangs away on the teleporter?
They don't know what a teleporter is.
"Where is the Syzygy?"
In the engine room, Drakul scampers through a thicket-like knot of wires. The intercom has been blaring and making his normally surly mood into a downright hostile stormcloud of an attitude, as his growing headache keeps getting worse.
He slams a clawed fist onto the intercom button. "CEASE YOUR YAMMERING, SOFTSKINS!", he yells in his small, screechy voice. "DRAKUL WILL AGAIN SAVE YOUR WORTHLESS HIDES!" He drains one of the coffee-ish cups that TSL has been spamming the ship with, hurls the empty cup into a small mountain of similar cups, grabs a fresh cup of the drink, and clambers into the bowels of the engine room. A hectic flurry of clanging sounds echo as he begins to patch and overclock the engines.
Smoke pours out of the corner where Drakul had been working. A stream of obscenity pours out of the smoke cloud.
In the engine room, Trask sprints into the smoke carrying a bucket of water and a spanner. "DRAKUL! I'm coming!! Don't worry!"
There is a small explosion, and the smoke intensifies. Somewhere in the engine room an alarm begins to sound.
|
|
At the bottom of the coffee cup, Drak finds the energy to keep the Angel's engines going for one last glorious run. Gain +1 on your next roll.
Due to his assistant obviously messing with his perfect work, all Piloting rolls are at -1.
Rolls to fix Engine: 0/2.
****************************
Riven stoically rejoices as another battery of anti-flak guns go down.
Alas his efforts stop further damage, but not all of it, as is evidences by the parade of dull *thwumps* that echo along the hull.
****************************
Rowdy finds his ball.
His ball is green, and happy. And also fun.
|
|
As Sapphire's EVA unit seals itself, her own internal HUD clearly displays the docking hatch growing closer, though at a nail-bitingly slow rate. But she's quite convinced that -she- could dock the ship with it...if there was still a ship left to dock.
SO 4-44 continues to work on the Teleporter, sweat dripping from his brow, but his experience at doing multiple shifts of boring office work appear to finally be paying off. Who knew?
As Denise Nickols thinks about her response, she can clearly see Gorn's eyes shifting downward. Time to grab his attention back.
Zack keeps his finger on the trigger, firing off hundreds of flechetes of STEEL at the far-off attackers. His efforts are rewarded as a small fireball appears on the station's surface.
Sampet grins as a power spike grows along the starboard side shields just as a rain-spatter of rail gun fire hits the ship, the kinetic energy dissipated by brave, brave electrons.
Zanbabe stays cool under fire, despite, or perhaps because of, the tech's "helping" in the engine room, and keeps a hot stick, barrel-rolling out of the way of incoming FIRE and bringing the ship a few more thousand precious kilometers closer to the station.
*************
Shooting: 1/4.
Piloting+shields: 2/3.
*************
Drakul's pupils take up his (admittedly beady) little eyes as the coffee-like takes over. It's not coffee... but man, whatever this brown stuff is works!
"Come, stupid Trask! Today, Drakul teach you how to make little purring engine ROAR!", shouts the small reptiliod. He pushes further into the smoke, his homemade electrotool shooting sparks everywhere.
Whimpering, Trask watches as the flames begin to belch out of the engine Drakul just vanished into. "Drakul!! Must be safer, Drakul!!" Bucket of water forgotten, Trask dives into the fire to find his friend and hopefully save them from seemingly certain death.
K'kth'li continues firing.
K'kth'li easily conquers all foes, just as K'kth'li's ancestors easily conquered planet Rog'yul! Our minds are superior! Our will is unbreakable!
As the engine room alarms continue, a harried-looking gnome runs at full tilt into the engine room.
"What by Desna's f&*+ing stars have you little scale-rats done to my engine??", screams the red-faced gnome. He begins to rearrange power couplers, reroute fire protocols to different sections of the room, even at one moment shooting a blaster into one auxillary power source to deactivate it - turning into a small whirlwind of furiously focused intention.
An ancient AutoMate HelpBot Mk I rolls into the engine room on it's treads and surveys the damage.
"MY MY - SOMEONE HAS MADE QUITE A MESS," it proclaims flatly - it's emotional drives had been scavenged by the reptiloids for parts, so the previously cheery voice inflection had been damaged beyond repair, which was a relief to the crew. "FIREFIGHTING PROTOCOL ENGAGED." The top of the robot opens to reveal a set of hoses, that begin to flail fire-suppressing foam all across the engine room.
The foam misses nearly everything on fire, landing primarily on sensitive electronic components that begin to short. The bot makes a humming sound and withdraws the spray hoses. "FIREFIGHTING PROTOCOL COMPLETE," it announces. "THANK YOU FOR MAKING A SIMPLE HELPBOT (mark one) VERY HAPPY TODAY."
Quietly standing guard in the brig, security officer 4-45, Jensens to his friends, sighed as he listened to the chaos unfolding throughout the ship. In case of emergency all security personnel are to remain at their posts unless called for. Jensens had all the regulations memorized.
He'd woken face down in the hall between his quarters and the brig. Thinking there had been an escape, Jensens had run to his post and completed a thorough inspection. All the cells were empty. Checking off the last two boxes of the brig manifest on his comp pad, Jensens signed off his daily report, "INSPECTION COMPLETE" and "NO INCIDENTS TO REPORT". The brig cells have stood empty ever since the Angel docked at Gemini a month ago, or so it seemed. The security officer glanced at the clock again eliciting long sigh. It had only been 30 seconds since the last time he'd checked. Time drags on when you're posted to an empty detention block.
Unlimited coffee was a nice change. Unfortunately, too much of a good thing isn't healthy and after his fifth cup Jensens' bladder was screaming for relief. He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and waited for the latest call of nature to subside. The security officer looked one last time at the empty cells, ensuring the neural fields were active then declared, Fu** it. He'd had enough. With a look of determination upon his blue face Jensens left for the boys room. Five minutes later Jensens returned, the crease in his new black pants and security issue red shirt looking sharp as he turned into the armory. He'd made up his mind. He was going to abandon his post and report to the bridge, they could court martial him after all the dust had settled.
Riven taps away on his console trying to help take down the station's turrets so less are firing on the ship. "I think this frontal assault is not a wise risk. We should fall back and try to deactivate the shields via subterfuge and sabotage of the station's shields. This would allow teleportation onto the ship where our individual capabilities might be more useful."
| 2 people marked this as a favorite. |
Chaos, rubs up against Riven's legs to act grateful for the food. While Chaos is not actually grateful (one should not need to be grateful for a basic right), Chaos knows that rewarding the servants for providing food tends to lead to more food. Looking for something to do, and somewhat upset the dog is allowed on the bridge, Chaos decides to walk along the gunnery control panel.
|
|
Riven notices that the firewalls and various defensive ICE around the gun-protocals are starting to tighten up. He wasn't ready for it, or he would've easily over came them.
They must either have fail-safes going into effect, or the low-grade IT staff are starting to get on to his wacky scheme.
It dawns on Riven that retreating and hoping to out HAX0RZ their HAX0RZ might not be the best idea.
Sometimes you gotta go in the front door.
Having a cat walk across your keyboard and turn on your CAPS LOCK PROBABLY DOESN'T HELP EITHER.
"What by Desna's f*#%ing stars have you little scale-rats done to my engine??", screams the red-faced gnome. He begins to rearrange power couplers, reroute fire protocols to different sections of the room, even at one moment shooting a blaster into one auxillary power source to deactivate it - turning into a small whirlwind of furiously focused intention.
The engine burning around him, Drakul narrows his eyes and hisses in fear at the sound of his gnome boss arriving in such a fury. "The Enginemaster!", the reptiloid hisses. "Hurry, stupid Trask!" He attacks the engine with renewed focus and fervor in his fear.
Whatever Drakul is furiously hammering on, it's not helping.
The Crotch Rocket, your baby, has its main power feed wired directly into the bleeding-edge shielding system, the whole thing itself cleverly stolen from Ceres Industries MechWorks. Just to get the thing connected and running cost as much as a whole other ship, but many times you've been able to withstand the pursuing fire from Imperial SPace Police to make a good run.
Alas, this means that the power supply to the weapons has been neglected, but you could never destroy a ISP cruiser on your own anyway.
You here a friendly female voice enter the pilot's compartment: "I'm sorry darling, but sensors indicate objects are still within minimum safe distance. Activation of the ablative shielding may result in damage. We are unable to activate it at this time.
Now wouldn't you much rather I make you a nice herbal tea instead?"
It was the Ceres AI. Frank couldn't disengage it without destroying the Shield. He also couldn't reprogram her without the AI self destructing. He sometimes needed to negotiate. Fortunately he believes she likes him.
Baby doll, Good to hear your melodious voice. Since you're tied into the ships sensors, you might have noticed... Another salvo rocks the ship. ...The space battle. In addition, the crew is poisoned. And the A-hole who did it has the cure. No time to fix the docking clamp. If you could override the safety protocols, I'd owe you one sweety pie.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
Rosie plugs herself straight into the CR guns to see if she can power them off her internal nuclear-plasma power core.
Rosie considers going back to hopeless mode. It was much less disappointing.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
RIVEN'S EYES GLOW FIERCELY AS HE WORKS AROUND CHAOS THE CAT'S INADVERTANT CAPS LOCK TURN ON. HE ABANDON'S HIS HACKING ATTEMPTS AND TAKES CONTROL OF ONE OF THE SDA'S MANY GUN TURRETS MANUALLY AND FOCUSES ON...COMING THROUGH THE FRONT DOOR.