Donovan_Thorn: You see a male panther, about 5'6". He's slimly built, but not scrawny. He's wearing blue-jeans, a black T-shirt, heavy-looking work boots and a large, stuffed-to-the-brim backpack. The pack has 'U of SMT' written on it, and a red leaf sewn below the lettering. He wears a wedding ring on his right hand. Rather ordinary... but something seems odd when you look at him out of the corner of your eyes. Quincy: A 6'5" Catboy with brown fur, black stripes goin down his arms. He currently wears white pants, a white t-shirt, and black sneakers. His hair is spikey, with a pony tail going down the back of his head. Each lens of his glasses are the size around of someone's fist. His black diabetics kit is hanging from a chain attached to his pants.. On his back is a large flat leather case thats white with a red cross on it. Hes wearing a white baseball cap that reads simply, "Baka". Hanging from his wrist is a bright silver and red medic alert bracelet. Dirge: Dirge is a tall lupine, tall and so thin as to make one consider him quite bony. He stands at six foot two and has about him a quite sort of civilized demeanor about him. His fur is black as shadow and his eyes seem to be the same, although they are covered by sleek, narrow sunglasses that scream, 'I'm so dark and brooding, so I must be cool' in a sarcastic train of thought. Hair white as pearl and just as gorgeous pours in bishounen curls over his shoulders. It is shiny, and seems very well taken care of; not a hair out of place. It is a stark and defining difference from the rest of his black-ensconced self. His fingernails, noticeable as he runs them through his hair, are sharp and white themselves, cut into triangles to seem dangerous claws and long enough to be an inch or so from the tip of his fingers. His clothing is very much the antithesis of simple. A long satin coat hangs from his shoulders down to his ankles, slightly thick to keep him warm and without a speck of dirtiness. The epitome of style in pants, Dockers, clothe his legs and lead down to fine leather shoes which shine and are so polished that they look almost wet. His socks are of course, black. Dirge's shirt is a dress shirt with silver buttons up the front, tucked into his pants and with the collar up. Around and under the flaps of the collar there is a silver chain with a clasp, though it has no sort of bauble connected. Something in his pocket shines, and if you cared enough to look, you lazy you, you'd see that it was his silver harmonica, finely designed and with a clasp that seems like it would connect to the clasp on the chain around his neck. Can he even play it, or is it just a trinket? Dirge answers this by absently lifting it to his lips, his tongue crossing them to get them wet, and playing. A brassy jazz tune embodying sadness pours out of it, with a dreary Wild West sounding twinge to it. Dei'nar'Ys: This short cat-girl's eyes narrow almost impreceptibly as you begin to erm, examine her. She is covered in pale fur of typically leonine coloration, with her mane being wild and backswept, very little of it arcing forward. Her three eyes are green with the occasional blue fleck, and even cursory examination reveals her legs and arms are about the same length. Which is to say her arms are rather long, not her legs rather short; in addition her legs are vertically aligned digitigrade. A long, rather thick tail trails out behind her. She's wearing a dark green mantle emblazoned with white, geometric symbols. It runs down to below her waist in both front and back. It's slit up both sides, and secured into makeshift 'sleeves' with little ties. Under this she wears a simple, matte black chest plate and her usual grey and black loincloth embroidered in alien designs. Caleb: You see before you a rather tall mammal. Definitely mammal, but of what sort is indefinite. However, the most discernable features are that he is indeed masculine, powerful yet sleek, and mysterious. His fur is almost an ashy-gray color, and he has in an almost zebra-like pattern, stripes of deep scarlet across his eyes, cheeks, ears, neck, back, legs, arms and sides. His frontal muzzle and chest fur is soft in texture, but a rich, deep black. His eyes are deep, penetrating, and rather unobtrusively, a dark, dark brown color. But inside the iris, though, are spoke-like bands of gold circling the feline pupil as if it were an intricate wheel. Long, pointed ears are at the sides of his head, with extra tufts at the tips that may hint at bobcat heritage. And above them are two small horns, of what creature one can only guess. His hair is a little long, down to the bottom of his neck, deep black, and slicked back in sweeping, somewhat thick spikes. His body is long, slender, and powerful. Were he not dressed, his nearly acrobatic physique would be apparent in every efficient, and beautiful way. Taut muscle all about him, yet not bunched and tight like a wrestler's. More sleek and flowing, like puzzle pieces connecting to an elegant piece of art. He has a body like a martial artist's, with every pleasing tone of muscle down to the last joint, from neck to heel. He's clad in a solid black suit and coat. Completely clean, crisp and proper. The suit mainly consists of a black tee-shirt and long, finely-pressed black slacks. With his coat, a tight, high-neck collar clings to his throat at all times, yet still allows for comfort. It buttons like a trench, but isn't long enough for one, ending only halfway down his thighs. The buttons on each side are all black with a metallic sheen, and the suit does well to hide his physique under a cover of dignity and calm. The long sleeves stop at his wrists, soft gray with crimson stripes, and on his slender hands are tight, but flexible black leather gloves. At his feet are clad shiny, slightly point-ended leather boots that go up into his pants to keep the dignified look. A long black strap that connects from his right shoulder, down and across to his lower left side carries, strapped to it, a black, lacquered katana scabbard of indeterminate texture. The hilt is cloth-covered, finely set as the full-tang handle of the katana. Also, in his sleeves, his two handguns are carried. A mechanism in the sleeves of his coat keeps them there, retractable for sudden assaults and with extra magazines also loaded in the sleeves if needed. In most cases, this particular individual looks very, very foreign. That, or he was one hell of a Labs experiment. Though in this case, its probably the former. The man moves with a calm air, but slightly curious, as if he were learning about new things all around him, even some of the rudimentary things that others learn when they're children. Of course, he appears dangerous - he's supposed to be. But also, an odd aura of concern for others abodes in him... The Number One Place for Superheros and Villains of the Furry Persuasion ____ __ ___ ______ _ / __/_ _____ ___ ____/ |/ /__ ___ ____ /_ __/__ ___ (_)__ _ _\ \/ // / _ \/ -_) __/ /|_/ / -_) _ `/ _ `// / / _ \/ _ \/ / _ `/ /___/\_,_/ .__/\__/_/ /_/ /_/\__/\_, /\_,_//_/ \___/ .__/_/\_,_/ /_/ /___/ /_/ ---- Visit our web site at http://smtmuck.dyndns.org/smtmuck/ ---- Nightclub The nightclub is dimly lit, and the pounding bass beat of the varying trance, house, and jungle beats rings in your ears loudly. It's nearly impossible to think, though it could easily be due to the fact that the nightclub is packed with swaying, wriggling, writhing crowds of people dancing to the music. Lights flash and race along the walls, floor, and ceiling in a variety of colors. Somewhere beyond the crowd is a cash bar and some tables. The DJ and the music seem to be controlled by a small control booth at the very far end of the dance floor, though there appears to be no way of getting there... All in all, the place is packed with scantily clad people and the music is good. Why not let go and get carried away? [ Obvious Exits: (E)ntrance, (B)athroom ] Contents: Donovan_Thorn(#2774P/CJM) Caleb Eve Dei'nar'Ys has arrived. Jessy has arrived. Caleb is at the bar, sipping a blue moon margarita. Oooh. He doesn't have his coat on, and his katana is with the bouncer. It looks like he's been dancing, with how his t-shirt clings to his torso. Jessy clops into the nightclub, and would be afraid if she wasn't from SoCal. "Howdy y'all!" Dei'nar'Ys glances around, nodding in greeting to Jessy, before walking up to the bar to take a seat beside Caleb. "Hey, love." Donovan_Thorn steps in, wearing one of those monacle-headset things ala DBZ. Has he gone Saiyan? Hell no, he's on the job. Sits at the bar, and it rings briefly.. he taps it. "SMTU helpdesk, how may I help you?" earperks with his free ear and waves to Jessy. |OOC| Dei'nar'Ys says, "Is that... a fully functional scouter? Ot just a prop?" |OOC| Donovan_Thorn hehs. "No, it's not a scouter, nor is it a prop. It's a cellphone in a headset, essentially." Jessy takes her hat off and shakes her mane, pulling it out of it's ponytail. "I don't think I've met most of you... Like, can Don introduce me when he's er... Done?" Caleb smiles and lifts his glass to Dei when he sees her. "Hey, sweetheart." Donovan_Thorn eyetwitches. "I'm sorry, but it's not eligible for return if you inadvertently bathed it in acid for 24 hours." Dei'nar'Ys nods. "What's up?" Caleb shrugs. "Just felt like grooving tonight." He smiles. A lot of that margarita's gone, he may be a bit tipsy. Jessy sits down on a stool between everyone else. "Um..." Dei'nar'Ys ahs, taking a seat next to Caleb. She glances over at Jessy, nodding. "Hi, I'm Dei'." Donovan_Thorn concludes the call... *mutter* Jessy smiles. "The name here is Catastrophe Jessy Valentine. You can call me anything you like." She gestures to her guns. "This here's Lady, and this here is Gal." Dei'nar'Ys nods. "Pleased to meet you." Caleb nods. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Valentine." He snugs a bit to Dei, smiling happily. Donovan_Thorn returns to reality, shaking his head. "Valentine, Dei, Caleb, good evening." Jessy goes [AFK] Away From Keyboard. Caleb nods to Don. "Hey." He smiles again. ^-^ Dei'nar'Ys nods. "Hey Don. ... you okay, you sound a little peeved." You say, "Tech support jobs tend to attract it, but I'll live. Hopefully temporary job, anyway." Dei'nar'Ys ahs. "I see...: Jessy goes [IC] In-Character. Jessy erms... "Sounds intense." Donovan_Thorn checks his watch. "Go offshift in... 5 minutes. I'll survive. How's you guys?" Caleb nods. "I'm..fine." he smiles, yet again, and takes a long sip of his margarita. Dei'nar'Ys wells. "Pretty good. Things have been relatively quiet recently... well, aside from the assassination attempts." Jessy says, "Assassinations?" You say, "that's like saying things've been relatively peaceful, aside from the invasions and explosions and ouchy and oy." You say, "Yeah. I had no idea I'd pissed people off that much." Caleb nods. "By the way, how's your head, love? My leg's okay now, by the way." Jessy says, "Oh really? I could consider rentin' myself out to protect for a few dollars..." Dei'nar'Ys hehs. "Some presumably villainous entity calling itself 'Eraser' is trying to have the three of us, in the popular slang, 'whacked'." Dr_Demental has arrived. Dei'nar'Ys grins. "It's fine, no problems of note." Dei'nar'Ys hmmms. "... still, I just realized that I may have pulled a variant of the infamous 'at least it can't get any worse' mistake." Donovan_Thorn hmms. "I'd actually consider it, except that's supposed to be MY job. >.>" This said to Jessy.. Jessy says, "Bodyguards can need bodyguards, sure!" Caleb sets down the margarita..and pops his neck. "Ohhf..I feel like making a fool of myself, so I'm gonna try to dance again." Donovan_Thorn checks his watch again, and removes the DBZ-ish techno headset. "Officially off duty! Barkeep, give me something strong." Dr_Demental wanders in through the door... looking around and dressed in plain clothes today. Jessy waves. Dei'nar'Ys grins, simply ordering a coffee. "I'll probably join you in a bit, Caleb." Donovan_Thorn nods to Manny, not recognizing yet. Hmms. As much as his pride protests, 2 assassination attempts in one week is a pretty damn good argument in favor of a bodyguard. And Jessy's shooting's been quite impressive. "How much?" Dr_Demental blinks... looking around to see if he's being waved at! He walks up to Jessy and asks, "Excuse me were you waving at me???" When he raises his hand a briefcase momentarilly appears and vanishes again. Dei'nar'Ys would hardly admit to ever needing a bodyguard... Jessy ummms... "I've never had real job before, so like, I don't know. And um... I was waving to you." Dr_Demental . o O ( Please ignore any bad spelling... though feel free to mention it to me." ) Caleb nods to Dei...and heads into the dancing fray Dr_Demental sits down smiling and orders a hot cocoa. When he sets the invisible briefcase on the table it reappears and stays visible. "Darn battery." he comments. Donovan_Thorn hmms. "Well, think about it, Jessy. It'd be a strictly professional relationship, of course." knocks back the drink. Dei'nar'Ys hehs, sipping at her coffee for a moment. She blinks, reaching into her mantle to pull out her PDA-communicator dealy. "Yes?" Jessy headtilts? "What do you mean?" Donovan_Thorn shrugs, "just that." Dr_Demental says, "Professional relationships..." He sips on his hot cocoa. "He means... it'd just be work... I think!" Jessy says, "Well, of course it would be, silly." Caleb dances. And in the strobe-lighted, bouncing bodied mass, it doesn't look that bad! Donovan_Thorn nods. Dei'nar'Ys hmmms, any trace of a good mood having just evaporated like the pre-dawn mists at sunrise. Okay, so that was a bit flowery, but at least you get the idea. "T'riun. Na'uk. Na'. S'dio'R. a'Ta'lmn'F'ran." She offs the comms-line, sighing. Jessy says, "Duty callin'?" Dei'nar'Ys shakes her head, scowling mightily. "No. Just a rather disturbing report from scan." A pity that Caleb isn't near enough to hear it. Dr_Demental opens up his little case and pulls out a small headband. "I had hoped today would be placid... What's up? And if that scan is about my interdimensional portal... just... ignore it... mmkay!" Donovan_Thorn blinks. "Okay, this has my interest... s'up?" Dei'nar'Ys shakes her head. "Deep space telemetry reports a confirmably hostile scout vessel lingering at the edge of the Sol system. A probe was dispatched not long ago to assess the situation. At the moment, we can only confirm that the probe, less than five minutes ago transmitted a fatal termination message, along with a fragment of a scan log indicating the presence of numerous cloaked vessels. Dei'nar'Ys says, "Or at least, that's all we can interpret the log as; the probe was destroyed long before it reached the scout-ship, and numerous anomolous reading were recorded." Jessy says, "So are we gonna go and get 'em?" Donovan_Thorn blinks... and grins. Dr_Demental offers, "Well... I've been working on a telepathic scanner... it might be useful as a modification!" Necrotica suddenly is wandering twoards Dei and Don, currently in adult form. She appears to be wearing white t-shirt and shorts, but under the dimmish light, shes glowing a little. "Hello.... Get what?" Caleb heads back to the bar where everyone is...sweating. n_n He sits down again, and sighs. "...Why's everyone suddenly so ....uh?" o.o |OOC| Quincy says, "oh yeah.. *grabs random* Her fur is also the kinda off white glow in the dark color, infact, it is glowing, and theres a giant glow stick orb on the end of her tail." Donovan_Thorn nods to Necrotica, "Hey Nec." hms. "Problem of finding cloaked ships is similar to that of finding landmines." Caleb blinks. "Cloaked ships?" Dei'nar'Ys sighs, looking at Jessy. "We've scrambled a fighter squadron to investigate the area where the probe was destroyed, but I don't think you quite understand how really big space is. Without any idea of the potential vectors assumed by the cloaked vessels only random chance would permit us to discover them before they struck." Donovan_Thorn hms. "Hey, Manny! Still got that enlarger ray?" Jessy says, "...Oh." Dr_Demental frowns, "I've got a new model... but... I still haven't managed to recover the old one. The new one is a bit unstable with electronics." Dr_Demental adds in, "Especially induction circuits... my bloody tesla coil stopped working!" Donovan_Thorn nods and walks over to Manny, whispering an idea... Dei'nar'Ys almost starts to say something about the mechanical problems of changing something size without likewise altering it's design to account for the increased stresses before stopping, realizing that, after all, this is SMT. Necrotica BLINKS. "Wait.. ships? Like those last ones that were attacking?" Dei'nar'Ys nods. "Yes - out enemies from beyond the bounds seem to be launching another attack." You page, "Don's old idea for finding cloaked ships was glow-in-the-dark-marshmallow goo. Let's see a ship play invisible while glowing in the dark. :> Only problem is getting enough goo into one missile." to Dr_Demental. Caleb rubs his chin. "I guess now could be that chance to use the star-fighter you won? Unless you have better ones.." Dei'nar'Ys nods. "By several orders of magnitude, actually." Caleb blinks.."...Oh." Dei'nar'Ys says, "It's offensive capacity is almost equivelant, but it's no-where near as maneuverable." Caleb nods...and hms. "Every time relaxation and fun can occur, something world-threatening has to happen. Are you sure they're hostile?" Dr_Demental sweatdrops, "Compression... hmm... I could always try setting the ray to Undo and see if it works... didn't really design it for that. But then again... you could always transfer it to the missile..." Necrotica RAISES an eyebrow and eyes Dr_D and Don. "Whaaat?" |OOC| Caleb says, "Wow, this is pretty good. Oreos and whipped cream." |OOC| Jessy says, "..." |OOC| Quincy says, "Dr_pepper and.. um.. Dr pepper. " |OOC| Jessy says, "Do oreos really NEED whipped cream?" |OOC| Jessy says, "O.o" |OOC| Caleb says, "When you want a sugar high from the deepest regions of Hell, yes." Dr_Demental grins, "GOT IT!" Donovan_Thorn blinks. Dei'nar'Ys nods. "Pretty sure. The scout-vessels energy signature matches logs of the hostile vessels, and the destruction of the probe seems to pretty much confirm our fears..." Caleb sighs.. "Looks like we'd better get ready, then?" Dr_Demental says, "Two diferrent methods actually. Change it's form and tansfer it in an easier method... invented something involving thoughts recently... and of course just plain send it as is... And... I'm too lazy to come up with my own plan." Donovan_Thorn grins at Necrotica, not answering. Necrotica's ears droop. "Oh no.. are they coming here?" Dr_Demental frowns and puts the headband back in... "And I didn't even get to show you all my new videogame system!" Donovan_Thorn hmms. "...you mean, have it create the marshmallow enroute? >.> It'd take MORE space." Necrotica RAISES an eyebrow at don and Dr_d "WHAT?" Jessy says, "...Marshmallow?" Dei'nar'Ys hmmms. "Well, the fleet has launched and is at full alert. I'm currently not needed, but I'd probably better head back to the base in any case." You say, "Detecting cloaked ships with glow-in-the-dark marshmallow. Tricky part is bringing along enough marshmallow." Jessy says, "Why marshmallow?" You say, "Because they weigh very little and stick very much." You say, "...now all we need is a hamster named huey." Dei'nar'Ys ers... "What have you two been talking about?" Caleb blinks. "Yeah..what about marshmallows?" Donovan_Thorn repeats, "Detecting cloaked ships with glow-in-the-dark marshmallow." You say, "Lets see ships stay cloaked while covered with glowing goo." Dr_Demental says, "His plan... Although in my opinion an electron spray might work equally well..." Dei'nar'Ys says, "..." Dei'nar'Ys says, "Maybe, but there's still a bit of an obstacle. We still have to figure out where to use it." Caleb blinks.."That's genius." Quincy has disconnected. Dr_Demental says, "Space time generally creates gravitons which leak into other dimensions... while it's easy to disguise them or force them to drop into another dimension... keeping a cloaked ship from being detected by specific technology in another dimension is not so easy..." Dei'nar'Ys ers, blinking. "Uh..." She hums, pulling out her comms device again, activiating a chirruping into it for a few moments. She nods, chirps an affirmative, then puts it away. "Okay, you guys can come along if you like." Dr_Demental says, "In other words... follow the gravitons..." Dr_Demental stands and wonders... where to go... then asks, "Are we going... yet?" Dei'nar'Ys nods. "That was the type of anomolous signature we were picking up; nothing else, which is unusual, but that's what we were detecting." Caleb shrugs. "I don't think I'll be any help.." Quincy has connected. Donovan_Thorn nods. "I'll follow in the ML2. Jessy, you interested? I could use a gunner. Dei'nar'Ys shrugs. "Eh, who knows. Maybe they'll be sending a manned ship this time and we can try and board it." Jessy says, "A gunner But... I can't shoot from one ship to another can I?" Caleb blinks at Dei? Dr_Demental reaches into his briefcase... "Caleb... you could always try this!" Dei'nar'Ys explains. "So far, with one exception, our enemies have sent unmanned combat drones on the attack." You say, "Not with your six-shooters, no. >.> Unless you want to dangle behind in a spacesuit. Ohwell." Necrotica comes back from wherever she disapeared. "Hey, What did i Miss?" Jessy headtilts? You say, "The monkey butlers. They're an amazing band." Jessy says, "Um..." Jessy says, "Why did you ask then?" Necrotica raises an eyebrow. "You sure you havent been sniffing any glue lately?" You say, "That, and us agreing to head into orbit to fight aliens." You say, "the NASTY CLOAKED ALIENS of EVIL FLAMEY DOOM!" Necrotica RAISES an eyebrow. ".....Oh.." she frowns. "I dont think me and the kids can help from down he-" She RAISES an eyebrow. "...." Caleb, to try to help the situation, attempts to knock some sense into Don. Dei'nar'Ys facepalms. "... Aaaanyways. I'm going to catch a shuttle up to the fleet. Anyone coming with me?" Dr_Demental holds up a small headband, "This is a small neural interface. Designed for use in a videogame system it could be modified to mimic targeting... thusly allowing you to operate the weapons system on a ship." He sighs, "I only wish I had my new scanners up and running... assuming the aliens actually have a brain." He stands again... "Me! Necrotica shakes her head. "Im going to go back, and get prepared, just in case, ya know.." She waves. "Bye.." She glows out the door. |OOC| You say, "glows out the door. *facepalm*" |OOC| Quincy says, "Glow in the dark fur, ill have to remember that one. And yes, that was purposeful. :P" Jessy says, "I'm gonna go and work out a price for Don... Bye, everyone." Donovan_Thorn oohs, "Penny!" *pickup* *whiff* |OOC| Quincy says, ".. Don is snorting pennies now?" |OOC| You say, "No, he's narrowly avoiding being clocked now." Jessy has left. Dei'nar'Ys heads out of the club, to the aforementioned shuttle, conviniently parked outside. Dr_Demental follows... Caleb misses the sense-knocking...and sighs, just following Dei. Donovan_Thorn heads out, "I'll follow in the ML2!" and vanishes. You hear the gnersky-gnersky-gnersky of a stubborn diesel engine... *gnersky,gnersky,gnersky-VROOM---whiiiIIIIIRRSHOOOM!* Flying submarines may not be that practical, but they're fun. The shuttle's picking up more than just Dei', Caleb, and Doc D, though. Several other Nez'chre in the city pile aboard, in addition to the occasional interested super-hero/villain/whatever. Quincy just happens to be outside, checking out the intereting ship that just landed. Dirge piles in as well? Caleb piles in, too! Quincy gets on the ship also, after seeing people he knows.. he doesnt even ask. Something just seems wrong. Donovan_Thorn heads for orbit in the Murphy's Law III! Or is it IV now? With all aboard the shuttle smoothly takes off, it's rather stubby dagger shape rising out of the atmosphere and past Nesbit's Killer Sattelite grid. ********************************************************************* Space Go ahead. Scream. I can't hear you. [ Obvious Exits: PullLever, ut ] Contents: Donovan_Thorn Dirge Caleb Dei'nar'Ys Quincy Dr_Demental PullLever (one word) to re-desc the room! Dirge stares out the window. n.n Caleb hmmms. During the trip..he asks, "Anybody know any songs?" Quincy blinks at caleb. "...." He just kinda wanders off, while muttering, "Beam me down, snotty, theres no intelligent life on this ship." Dr_Demental stares out the window. What looks like a modified SR-71 Blackbird flies alongside too. The SR-71 is forced to drop back... and leaves the atmosphere rather late. Perhaps not the best thing to ask - one of the nearby Nez'chre simply nods, then launches into a very... mournful battle hymn. Other Nez'chre join in shortly, and before long you have a shuttle full of Nez'chre singing a beautiful but rather deppressing song. Dirge plays his harmonica along. Donovan_Thorn, meanwhile, performs preflight checks. Yes, it's no longer preflight. He was in a hurry. So sue him. Caleb ends up crying from the sheer loveliness of the congregated Nez'chre voices. Caleb is a sensetive man. Donovan_Thorn then sets the scanners to full auto, and begins playing Population:Tire. Dr_Demental says, "Cannons to the right of them... Cannons to the left of them, Cannons ahead of them, Volley and thunder! I'm just glad because I'm the only person here who isn't /technically/ risking his life!" He beams brightly. The Blackbird produces a spike-shaped stream from it's back as it exits orbit, which spreads out into a plume. A small circle appears floating in space and boxes begin to exit from it. Quincy >.>... <.<... And makes a bad attempt at trying to sing along? Dr_Demental asks, "Will this ship actually be fighting?" He holds up his briefcase, "Because I could interface with the weapons system." The Nez'chre can be a very somber people, but they mind not the outsiders following, or attempting to follow, along. Up ahead, just beyond lunar orbit, darkly glimmering spires begin to become evident against the starfield. Dirge pages, "Do you know any of the lyrics of that kid's French song?" to you. Quincy blinks and looks over at Dr_D. "Dont worry! Everything will turn out okay. Besides, If the Nez'chre cant operate thier own systems, then where would we be?" Donovan_Thorn "313.. 315..." *bloop* "crud." blinks as the black spheres become visible, "Hey, what - " scans. Dei'nar'Ys no's. "This is just a supply shuttle. We'll be transfering crew to the Uio'ni'rui, one of the Escorts. Think frigates." Caleb just sort of spends the rest of the trip in an amazed silence. Except for a soft murmur.."Dei..I love you and your race." Dirge ers... Donovan_Thorn could hardly think of a less impressive name for a ship than the Weenie Rooey. Dr_Demental says, "Well at least it's not named the Mickey Rooney!" Quincy raises an eyebrow and eyes Dr_d. "...That was in horribly bad taste." Dei'nar'Ys blinks, wondering what's so strange about the name, before rejoing the chorus. Dirge plays along. n.n Donovan_Thorn maintains a polite distance from the ship, and from the destination Frigate. Dr_Demental practices pronouncing the ship name a few times, "Uio'ni'Rui, Uio'ni'rui, Uio'ni'rui." He grins. Meanwhile... the boxes that appear to be streaming through the hole are being assembled by the Blackbird. The portal seems to be following along with the ship at a slow pace releasing containers every so often. Donovan_Thorn scans the black spheres, wondering what they are... Quincy looks at Dei for a moment. "Hey, does the ships's name mean anything?" Dei'nar'Ys hmmms, attempting to help Demental's pronunciation along. "Oo-ie-oh nee Roo-ee." She avoids the complicating chirping, clicking, chirruping parts... she hehs. "It's mostly it's class designation and number in the battlegroup. It's number 4 Escort Vessel, light, by the literal translation." Dirge makes a mental note. n.n; Dr_Demental repeats it rolling the R... which may or may not be right in... "What's your species called again? Nezzzz Shree?" Dei'nar'Ys says, "Nezz - Krrey." Donovan_Thorn has been saying it wrong for a year. c.c Quincy raises an eyebrow and tries to pronounce it 'Uio'ni'rui' but instead gets 'ooeeohneerueee' >.> Caleb hasn't. ^.^ Dirge sweatdrops. "Space is so pretty. Even with all of you here. Heh... Kidding." Dr_Demental says, "Ah... Nezz Krrr(slight over-roll on the r..)ey." He repeats a couple of times over-rolling the R every time. "Darn... That's why I just name everything simply. The Nautalis... my design for a submarine spaceship... The Shade-Shift cloaking vessel based upon those government papers I... borrowed... etc..." Caleb says, "Well, to them, their language is simple...er..right, Dei?"" Dei'nar'Ys simply nods. "It simply seems more complicated because it is not known to you." Dr_Demental says, "Usually... Most languages do. Except french, which even the french complain about. Apparently compared to their grammar, ours is easy." Quincy blinks at Dirge and smirks.. then looks around.. "Hey.. Are we getting th-" He blinks out a window. "...What.. are those spires?" Break has arrived. Dirge says darkly, "...I'm not complaining about French." Dei'nar'Ys hmms, looking at the spires outside. "The fleet." Donovan_Thorn gives up on scanning the spheres, long past them by now. Dirge hmphs. Look! A space battle! This looks like a job for Jump Gear. The intended use of Break's flight suit was extra-atmosphere work, and it's time to get to it. He spends a moment observing what's going on. Quincy blinks. "...Really? Wow.." Dr_Demental is in outer-space! Again... And there is an SR-71 blackbird like vessel. There seems to be a portal out of which boxes are coming. The boxes are being assembled. Dr. Demental has designed... another spaceship. It's being built. Though... it might take a while. Dr_Demental notes the ship is being built a ways away from anything. The shuttle comes up along side the sleek, blade like shape of the Nez'chre escort, coming to a halt and drifting towards a recessed opening in the hull. Caleb has been crying from the lovely voices of a Nez'chre battle chorus. Break steps in the opposite direction of the Maintenance Deck, and starts cycling the airlock. He cues up his own favorite music, waiting for the 'lock to cycle. Donovan_Thorn, flying the ML3, has been killing time playing Population:Tire Quincy looks at dei. "Will we all have something to do on the ship? I dont really understand why im here.. i just kinda wandered on.." There's a soft clunk as the shuttle docks. "Well, that's it. Everyone off, eh?" Dirge says darkly, "Yeah, like, I'm scared." Dirge says darkly, "Eep. Off?" The center of a very large ship now becomes visible near the blackbird. It is long, and relatively rocket shaped with a swooping in near the middle (think seaquest). Manny comments, "I always wished I could have built it full size... but it's kind of difficult to convince someone to make a space vessel twenty miles long darn it!" The vessel is only about 500 feet long at current... rather short by his standards. Though the ring being built around it will probably make it look bigger. Quincy looks at dirge. "Scared?" He grins. "This is cool... we gotta get off this ship, to get on the other one." Dirge says darkly, "Oh, I'm always scared." |OOC| Dirge says, "Gotta restart, mes amours. Au revoir." Caleb blinks. "I'm amazed at the experience." He smiles to himself. Quincy smiles. "No worries, eh?" Dr_Demental isn't... "I hope you've got a space-suit... mine is at home!" Dei'nar'Ys yeahs. "We're docked with the escort, everybody onto the bigger ship." She walks out through the nearest open hatch, the Nez'chre parting for her. Dirge has disconnected. Caleb follows Dei. Quincy nods at caleb. "Yeah. And they arent incredibly hard to use.. its just figureing out the controls and physics of it all, so you dont run into stuff..." he follows caleb Dr_Demental follows and brings his briefcase! Break peers out the clear outer airlock door. The gravity shield preventing micrometeorites from striking the door and making his Wheel 34 into swiss cheese shuts down for a moment as the defective alien battle anthroid propels himself towards the vanguard of Nez'chre ships. Break is, by the way, travelling at a decidedly unsafe speed. A substantial portion of the speed of light. Dr_Demental would be worried... if he had any kind of a clue! Dirge has connected. Donovan_Thorn blinks. Fortunately, he recognizes Jump Gear and doesn't open fire. "Don to Break, careful, don't bug the warships. We're all abit jumpy right now, given the cloaked invaders near the oort cloud. oo;" My, but it's rather hard to keep track of one 4'9" tall, three eyed alien cat-girl when she's with a bunch of others with similar features and hieghts. Her colour isn't even particularly unusual, leaving you with 6 potential candidates. Luckily they're not completely splitting up, leaving you with about 3 choices on which group of them to follow. Caleb...looks for the one with the jewelry he gave her. >.>.. In that case, Dei' would be heading inwards, towards the bridge. Dr_Demental checks all of them out... and forgets to follow any of them getting left behind. Break nods. "Break to Don, understood. Mind if I stand on your submarine? Don't worry, my attatch'll be Jump Gear's graviton tether. It doesn't work in atmosphere, but it should here. Caleb follows Dei! o.o; Quincy is following caleb. >.> Donovan_Thorn nods, then realizes that's stupid. "Go ahead. Stand on the plate marked 'FJQGADS', that's it's center of gravity." Break points with his right arm. Darth Vader would be envious at his long-distance grip. His right hand becomes a cannon like the Buster Mk. 50, only it's got the same type of gravity generator equipment that Iron Gear has. He latches onto the panel. Dr_Demental finally decides to follow the one on the right... and sincerely hopes it's Dei... and that they speak English. If not... he's in a heck of a lot of trouble and may be lost for a while. Quincy still follows caleb. <.< The vessel's interior is very similar to Dei's corvette, the El'ia'Mhr. Arches along the sides of the hall, with recessed holo-displays, inconspicuous doors, and recessed niche's along the wall. It also, clearly, has internal defense much more heavily factored into it's design - it's almost like a fortress in here... Donovan_Thorn flicks a few switches. Dirge follows in, feeling out of his element and swaying from a case of space-tummy. Caleb blinks..."Whoa." Dei'nar'Ys leads the way to the bridge, at the heart of the ship. A holo-graphic display hovers in the center of the room, displaying an impressive volume of space on all sides. She's greeted professionally by one of the bridge crew... and seems to be taking a position of ancillary command. Quincy looks over at Caleb. "What?" Break floats, looking out. He switches his main communication method to radio. "Note: Equip Jump Gear with a long-range scope/sensor gear." Dr_Demental is... by now... so lost it's not even funny. He opens up his briefcase and pulls out two remote interfaces. Upon setting them down they actually get up and run around looking for technology to interface with... as well as attempting to scan/map the ships interior. If there is a bridge... he'll find it... in the meantime he pulls out the headband, slips it on, and plays videogames as he walks and his bots try mapping the ship. Caleb follows Dei...but steps back as she takes command, waiting. o.o Dei'nar'Ys talks with an older Nez'chre for a few moments, before waving the okay to Caleb and Quincy. "Come on guys. It's okay. This is the ships Captain, Druin'. I'm his XO, and leader of the security detachment." Quincy blinks.. He wanders over. "...Wow. Fascinateing ship." Donovan_Thorn follows the Nez'chre fleet, not inside it but beside it. Caleb steps up, and bows low, offering a hand and introducing himself to Druin'. "A pleasure to meet you, Druin'. I am Caleb LuRiv, local hero and Dei'nar'Ys' betrothed." He smiles...and seems so much more professional. He turns to Dei, "So, what's the current situation?" he asks. Break is tugged along with Don via the Grapple Beam. Dr_Demental wanders idly through the halls... he'll probably be spotted by security any moment... And the bots... will not be well recieved. Sending walking intelligent transcievers over a ship that's about to go into battle... would get him a good bop on the head for this one. Meanwhile... the outer ring is almost complete. They can now begin constructing the internal components of the ship... wow... long build time! Dr_Demental . o O ( The new ship with the ring... n.n ) Donovan_Thorn . o O ( One ring to rule them all.. ) Break . o O ( One ring to turn you invisible and eat your soul, while its creator stares at you with one... big... creepy... eyeball. ) Donovan_Thorn . o O ( ...that doesn't rhyme. ) Quincy . o O ( One ring to.. feed me. *munches onion rings* ) Caleb . o O ( Ash nazhg durbatuluk, ash nazhg gimbatul, ash nazhg thrakatuluk, agh burzum ishi krimpatul! ) Caleb . o O ( *knows Mordror-ish* ) Quincy raises an eyebrow at caleb. HE makes a feeble introduction. "Hi. Mister Druin. Im quincy Goodbar.. Umm.. I know know dei.." Dirge bows, though it looks more like a curtsey. "Bonsoir, Monsieur Druin. Je m'appelle Dirge de Valeur." Dr_Demental starts playing with a console... that should get him noticed! Dei'nar'Ys nods. "The fleet is currently holding position outside of lunar orbit. We have a picket of probes currently set up 25,000 kilometers further out, to see if we can't spot any gravitic anomolies before they get within point blank range. All fighter squadrons have been launched and are patrolling at along the flanks between 5 and 7,000 klicks out." It does. Before long a set of three of the three-eyed aliens have gathered you up and are tranferring you to the bridge, along with the remains of several of your drones, well, the ones that were spotted. Dr_Demental waves... "Darn... those things were expensive... I was going to use them to let you neurally command the weapons systems... oh well!" He smiles, "Anyone up for a game of pong?" He asks holding up his briefcase. Dr_Demental says, "Or anything else? If you can picture it we can play it!" Break taps the LD communications equipment on the ship with anything he can find. Radio, IR Laser, UV Laser, gravitic micropulse, Aetherwave... "Inquiring minds would like to know what the not-exactly-stealthy emissions sources that are somewhere, but unknown where, in the solar system." ^.^ Quincy raises an eyebrow and looks over at Dr_d. "Wouldnt it just be easier to control the controls manually? they would have to find out how to control them mentally..and is it really a time for games?" Dei'nar'Ys rolls her eyes for a moment. Then a soft pinging alarm begins to sound. Quincy blinks at dei. "And that is..?" Dirge buries his face in his hands. "Mon dieu." Caleb says, "Yeah, what's happening?" Dr_Demental says, "But it's a telepathic adaptive videogame system... and not really. It adapts to... some... interfaces. It's intuitive... no learning!" He turns to look at the pinging, "Red alert?" Dei'nar'Ys says, "We're picking up a gravitic anomoly mtching the ones the probes reported. ... it's more like a yellow alert." She chitters something to a Rhe'Mahs, who nods and head for a station. "You might as well make yourselves useful. Quincy, there's an open gunners station over there. Caleb, would you mind joining the security forces? They may need your assistance. And Dr... um..." Dr_Demental says, "They destroyed the thing I was going to use to gun... so... I guess... I'll just wait until stuff breaks and fix it!" Dei'nar'Ys ers, trying to figure out what useful purpose Doc D could serve. Meanwhile, Don and Break would just be getting informed of the alert status, being outside of the Nez'chre battle net. Dirge bites his lower lip. "I can wash windows." Donovan_Thorn blinks. "Heads up Break, bogeys at ..." Dei'nar'Ys sighs, and nods. "Alright, do as you will Break nods. "Disengaging grapple." The cannon reverts to a hand, though secondary emitters slide from his 'gloves' and 'boots'. He grabs the sword hilts from his sides, and extends enough cable to power them while allowing movement. Quincy blinks.. "Um.. okay!" He wanders over to a gunner's station.. and blinks. "Oooh." He grins. Caleb nods, "I'll join security, Dei. Good luck.." Dirge leans against a window and stares out, looking for solace. *Demental. Dirge... uh... someone'll figure something out." Donovan_Thorn kicks up the engines, and broadcasts something that'll probably confuse everyone. "Unleashing bees in 5.. 4.. 3.." Quincy blinks. "What? Bees?" Dr_Demental suddenly wishes he had a ham croissant... He goes over to look at the console of the Nez'Chre doing the scanning. Break @_. Dei'nar'Ys ers, shrugging. Duin', and for that matter everyone else seems a bit puzzled by the transmition, but they hardly let that stop them from doing their duties. The scan information shows a loose cluster of anomolous gravity readings near the edge of the scan radius. Caleb blinks...and lightly nudges Dei.."If you're leader of security detachment...what do I do, Dei?" Dirge has disconnected. Quincy blinks at the cluster of readings.. and if theres a chair, he sits down, removing his medical kit so its not in the way.. and starts mumbleing to himself. Dei'nar'Ys wells. "For now, you should probably just head over to the bridge armoury and join the team there. Unless we're boarded, or, as is more likely, board a craft, you probably won't be doing much but chatting with the, er, Marines." Dr_Demental pulls out his videogame console and asks, "Is there anywhere I could maybe... patch this in? I've got a plan to add data from my scanners at a lower priority to your scanners... maybe launch some expendable vessels too. I'm currently doing my best to track them by the optical deflections both their cloaking device and gravity generate... but they seem to be compensating quite well for that." Caleb nods..and hurries over, no matter how weird he feels about it. He's pretty sure that someone looking like him would be thought strange of with the..uh..Marines, too. He heads to the bridge armory... "2.. 1.. bee-rate!" *chunk-chunk!* Explosive bolts pop two small panels off the side of the ML3, and out pour... bees. Glowy explosive bees, a little smaller than your thumb, around 2 dozen of 'em. They take up an odd orbit around the ML3. Yes, this is the culmination of the reactor-powered-bee project. Break ignites his plasma blades, and begins a powered boost for the coordinates Don provided. ^.^ The central display shifts suddenly, seeming to focus on one of the anomolies. Energy spike! Dr_Demental idly wonders, "If he's launching bee's... do they need air to be able to turn or maneuver???" He turns to focus in on the displays... "Ooh nice resolution!" Actually, a lot of energy spikes, followed by high energy plasma discharges aimed at the Nez'chre fleet; no particular target in mind, they're just saturation bombing an area of space! Dirge has arrived. The bees actually manuever by magnetic fields between them.. they only work in groups. Dr_Demental sweatdrops, "Shields are already up right???" And he personally has a very /very/ poofy tail... and a weatherman hairdoo! Donovan_Thorn cranks the engines up to max, trying to come in from the side! Dirge faints. Break begins dodging and weaving, then ramps up his engines to 120% output. He begins looking at gravity fields, thinking he might be able to get a slingshot boost. Dei'nar'Ys simply nods. "They have." The energy lances into the fleet formation... which simply blinks out of existence... and then resumes existence elsewhere, out of the line of fire. The fleet has split, blinking in opposite directions on the Z Axis and moving forward a couple thousand klicks. Donovan_Thorn can't blink his whole ship, but fortunately it can move kinda fast on it's own. Aquires weapon locks... Quincy just waits as he continues mumbleing to himself. Caleb sits with the Marines...waiting and looking at them and their equipment...and trying to see how they feel about his presence, and/or the situation. Donovan_Thorn's ship can't possibly hope to beat one of these toe to toe.. but he's been hard at work, crafting - unconventional weaponry, these last months. Dr_Demental has one ship that's being constructed... looking kind of like seaquest, but even on all sides, with a ring around it (no not an even ring... more like the thick wedding bands one wears around ones fingers). Quincy looks at any nearby gunners and ponders how they are holding up, after all, not everybody thinks this is a video game.. Break approaches the origin of the shots, after passing Uranus. Cheap shot, but I had to take it. The hostile vessels drop their cloaking fields, hardly any point to maintaining them longer with the Nez'chre clearly aware of their presence. These are not the usual spike-covered orbs the hostile use. Strangly spindly, flowing craft, all gathered up into a tangle bristling with antennae and weapons. In all there are 14 of them. The two fleets begin exchanging fire in earnest; Nez'chre vessels maneuvering at FTL speeds whenever they can manage it, and the Invaders simply spewing forth tremendous amounts of high energy. Donovan_Thorn sends in the bees! And tries a close approach... Quincy BLINKS.. He mumbles to himself.. and follows one of the ships.. hes definately not fireing as much as the other gunners.. but he aims for the propulsion system if possible, and the weapons on the ships, as he takes a few pot shots. Donovan_Thorn suddenly whirls his ship around, so it's flying toward the invader fleet ass-first! Huh? Caleb, at hearing the sounds of fire, tries yet again to discern what the little group of Nez'chre commandos is feeling about the current situation and..well, around a weird genetic mix of a bunch of creatures like him. Break pulses his engines, and DIVES for one of the ships, throwing a sword out on its long-range power tether! Okay, let's try and deal with this one thing at a time. Dirge is awakened by a passing Nez'chre crewman who seems to want some help. The marines Caleb is with are all rather calm, and conversing about, well, something. Quincy's skills as a gunner are rapidly beginning to be appreciated, the othe gunners attempting to open useable holes for Quincy to fire through. I have no idea what Don is doing, so I can't make much of a judgement on it. Oh, and the Nez'chre fleet is very rapidly closing to extremely close range with the enemy vessels. Dr_Demental is... looking at the communication console and, if operated by a female, attempting to keep himself from hitting on her. Dirge sits up after a bit and rubs the back of his head, looking up at the crewman nervously. "Wha?" The blade Break threw manages to arc in from an angle the vessel is not tranferring much defensive power to, so the sword does hit. Though it's arguable that id did any damage... this thing is BIG. The comms officer, just for Doc D's consternation, is a rather cute Rhe'Mahs female, and like most crewers on the ship is not in anything even remotely resembling a uniform. Donovan_Thorn does something that perhaps will finally attract the hostility of the fleet: In a manuever that looks just plain wrong, the ML3's rear end ejects a glimmering, filmy, silver something... wait... it's a mesh, a big silver net, with four steel belted radials fastened to the corners. It expands rapidly, momentum of tyres pulling it open. Don fires the engines! Heated by the fires of fusion, the heat-resistant nichrome wire quickly glows white hot, as Don reverses direction! Leaving a giant, white-hot, electrically conductive mesh of very very thin and sharp wires screaming towards the mass of enemy ships at .7C Break didn't want damage. There will be plenty of time for damage later. He retracts the cable, pulling himself towards the sword... at the same time, he fires off an IR comm laser to the Wheel, backing up his memories and cognitive battery. The Nez'chre crewer says, simply. "You seem to be free, and I need an extra pair of hands." He waves that Dirge should follow him. "Come on!" Caleb uhhs...and tries to start conversation with the commandos. "Hi. I'm just curious, but...how old are most of you?" Dirge ers, "Yes sir." He replies, and goes after. Quincy isnt sure if the other gunners can understand him, but while mumbleing to himself, he tries to make them understand that he wants to hit 'that' target over there.. 'that' is something 'vital', like before, Propulsion, Main Weapon Batterys, possibly the bridge.. and any other places that may be deemed 'vital' or 'weak'.. How he does that isnt sure, but it probobly involves lots of waveing while he mumbles and fires at other places. Dr_Demental is very happy about that then. The large ship dubbed the 'MN-prototype' (or Mini-Nautalis) fires up it's system... yes... it only has one system. A combination Shield/Weapons/Propulsion system that's so highly integrated that... if one goes down... all three go down. Break tries to slice into the hull of the ship as near the engines as he can. He gets a nice ding warning that he's backed up... Ire attracting indeed. In fact, Don's maneuver attracts enough ire that the Nez'chre fleet is forced to cover him on his excape trajectory, stupid newtonian based reaction drive. The marines shrug, and give multitude of numbers, The youngest is a mere 322 years old. The oldest, almost 900. Caleb looks down.."I'm twenty-eight." Actually, the only ship not shooting at Don is the one he crashed the hot-net into, it's forward section rather badly scarred. Break is, should anyone care, over a hundred and fifty. But nobody does. The MN's ring begins generating a blue glow which quickly becomes a shield around it. The ship moves foreward propelled by the shield. Although, light-speed they are not. A 30 foot long diamond shaped craft just kinda... appears. It begins to attach to the MN. Quincy so's? Hes not even old enough to go into the nightclub, unless he had his parents convince the bouncer or something. This evokes a chuckle from the marines. "Ah, youth. Pay it no mind, age doesn't necessarily mean greatness." The oldest says, reassuringly. Caleb shrugs.."I..did beat Dei'nar'Ys in a sparring match.." he says. He isn't sure how long he'd last against these folk, though. The crewer leads Dirge forward, towards the bow of the vessel. "Everyone's busy, but I've got a pair of bad nodes on the shield grid to deal with." Dirge follows with his head tucked down. "But I assure you that I don't have any experience or knowledge regarding such vessels..." The marines are quite impressed. "Truly?" The youngest asks, clearly somewhat in awe. Dr_Demental starts getting a bit hyper as he's waiting for the MN to arrive... The MN, meanwhile, has shunted it's systems to internal storage so the ship can dock. The crewman bahs. "It's simple. All I really need is for you to hand me the tools." Donovan_Thorn's ship is definitely newtonian, but there's.. something else there. The ML3 wriggles and cants in a manner looking nearly impossible for a submarine of it's class - somehow it's shifting it's center of gravity. Another panel pops off, unleashing more bees, which quickly get cut down by vicious plasma. Caleb nods. "I also promised to help teach her some of my style. But with everything going on, we haven't gotten to that yet. In my world, we developed a style of fighting that was based upon the history of various forms of fighting, and that the types are statistically predictable. Using a training of..well, almost a geometric dance, it puts the fighter into the maximum damage zone against the maximum number of opponents, whilc keeping statistically clear of return attacks." Dr_Demental paces back and forth very quickly... and sincerely hopes this doesn't bother the Nez'Chre as it does some members of his own species. Dirge's ears wilt. "Great. Just like Versailles." He sits on his knees and looks around for a tool kit. The crewman chuckles. "Ah, comeon, I'll give you a crash course of Nez'chre shielding systems." The tool kit beside the open access panel, presumably with the tools useful for the task being the ones laid out on top. Break cuts open the alien ship he's affixed to, assumedly, and peers inside. Dirge lets a hand hover over the tool kit. "Whatever you like, sir." He looks up from under his bangs. Doc D's pacing doesn't bother the Nez'chre much. Caleb's comment draws a couple appreciative murmurs, ah few insightful ahs and quite probably the beginning of a discussion about the merits of different fighting philosophies. Then the lights in the compartement begin flashing red, which has all the Soldiers on their feet and gathering their weapons. ( Break see's... what looks like some sort of power transfer conduit... looks like you're not getting in this way. ) Quincy feel's hes tried to explain enough what he wants to aim at.. and starts concentrateing on a single ship, fireing at its weapons.. Donovan_Thorn turns a ninety, and begins firing railgun shells! They appear to be normal depleted uranium to scanners, but if they encounter shielding, undergo nuclear fission. Turns out they're uranium, but hardly depleted. |OOC| You say, "No active parts. They use the shielding for all the power." |OOC| Quincy says, "wow." Break shuts off the swords and wraps himself around the conduit. Power-transfer systems usually suffer from feedback problems when overloaded. Therefore, he grins. Broadcasting in every frequency he knows, a note of humor tinges his voice. "I'm the world's only seasoned suicide bomber." ^.^ He then starts with a simple binary counter, starting at 1010 and going down. Caleb stands, and lets his pistols slip into his hands. He sets them down...and checks the magazines, to see if he refilled them this morning. Seeing that he did..he resets the magazines and puts the handguns back into his sleeves. He then checks his katana for a moment, unsheathing it and examining the blade, before resheathing it. He sighs, and takes a few breaths...doing an interesting looking full-body stretch in the process. Dr_Demental earperks... almost as if he heard the 'crash course in Nez'chre shielding systems' part... he clears the entire distance so fast that it'll take him a while to calm his heart down to a normal level and regain normal breathing. The 'MN' suddenly... appears nearby a few minutes after vanishing from where it was. The black vessel detaches and vanishes as the 'MN' shunts it's internal power storage back into it's systems. Shields, weapons, and propulsion, which are all the same, come online. Break >1010. 1001. 1000. 0111. 0110. 0101. 0100. 0011. 0010. 0001.< Break >>> 0000. <<< *Fa-THWOOMP!* That was the not-sound of a thermonuclear blast going off in vacuum. The crewer asks for such-and-such a tool, explaining briefly what each component does and how it relates to the whole. Depending on how interested in it Dirge is, and how much he can intuit about theoretical physics, he could a lot or a little out of it. Dirge is... Utterly overwhelmed. He looks constantly from the 'instructor' to the tool kit to the shield thingy. Dr_Demental eavesdrops intently! Dirge adds, "Sacre bleu." Nuclear fissile explosions are impressive in atmosphere, where they have a medium to transfer their enourmous amounts of energy through as a concussive wave. In space, they simply have heat. Considerable heat, actually, but as the Uranium shells are detonating at the shields and not beyond their doing only minimal damage to the hostile vessels. They are, however, playing havoc with their shields. Break, however, was wrapped around a power conduit inside the hull of one of the vessels. And a fission-pumped miniature sun attatched to his back just did the supernova shuffle. And? ( Quincy is essentially demolishing an enemy cruisers vital spots, as the escort pulls up along-side the one Don disabled earlier with his heat wire net gag. Boarding action! ) As for Break... well, can you say cascade failure? I knew you could. The cruiser her nailed flickers and begins to drift through space... before simply going up in a giant fireball. Break actually did something useful! Maybe someone'll tell him when he wakes up sans the last five minutes. Quincy's eyes kinda go shifty, and he moves from the cruiser hes been pounding.. and starts to fire at the ships that don is de-shielding (is that a term?) He is kinda just all over the place, but if results are results, i dont think anybody will complain. >.> Dr_Demental is.... well... he's listening to the engineer. Could he care less about the battle... probably not. The MN waits with it's shields at full power... they wobble and fluctuate from all the EMP! Meanwhile... Poor Dirge. The crewer seems hell bent on talking his ear off. At least he's ontop of the tool fetching, even if only barely... Meanwhile, inside the 'MN' five Dr. Dementals argue about, "I wanna fire!" "No ME!" And so on... Donovan_Thorn, it shoudl be noted, has NO SHIELDS. None at all. He takes a significant hit to the sensor array, and is forced to veer off! Releases all bees(about 30 more), which have their own limited sensors and such make a... beeline for the remaining enemy vessels. |OOC| Quincy says, "LOLZ! ROFL! BEELINE! HAW HAW! :D" |OOC| Quincy says, "*BRICKED* HAW HAW! *BRICKED AGAIN!* HEheHE *SLAM |OOC| Dirge says, "...O.o" SLAM SLAM SLAM* oog.. *thud*" Dirge winces. "Is there anything I can do but this? Surely there's a picture frame that needs righting, or a fashion disaster that needs consulting." He hands over another tool. Dr_Demental offers, "I'll do it... why not... go get a battle update! That should be more interesting." The crewer uhs... quite bluntly, caught completely off guard by the question. Dirge bites his lower lip. "Hmmm. Your medical capabilities on the ship are very... Good, right?" The crewman simply nods. "Yeah..." Dirge says darkly, "Do you know how many enemy ships remain?" As I'm not sure exactly what the bee's can do, I'll simply say that, with their shields basically stripped off, the bees hit. The enemy ships are getting rather thuroughly pounded, another joining the vessel Break annihilated earlier, three escorts (including your own) boarding another. The rest seem to be breaking off. The bees explode muchly! Caleb...as nothing seems to be happening for him or the other commandos to partake in, offers to show them an example of some of the movements and stances of his style. Quincy starts to pound fire at the retreating ships now.. this time, mainly going for propulsion systems. Dirge ohs. "None, huh? Well, I guess that's pretty lucky... Merci, Aeon." Dirge hands over a tool. "Here." The crewer nods, simply blinking and returning to hsi task, much chattily. |OOC| Break is gonna log out. Is naptime. Break has disconnected. The 'MN'fires. The Shields actually seem to shift foreward, forming a spike, and swirling into a coherent beam lancing foreward from the ship. The coherent beam compresses into a single sphere of shield energy and the 'MN' is left sans-shields for a moment while they recharge. The ring re-forms immediately and slowly spreads out to a new shield (takes approximately 30 seconds) the shield's protection grows as it re-forms to full power. The commandos wait around for a few moments, watching Calebs movements before Dei's voice sounds over the inter-com. They collectively turn and begin marching for one of the airlocks. Caleb immediately ceases and follows the grouping. c.c...feels like he was wasting time. Dirge asks, "Where are the marines going?" The technician humms. "Well, either we're being boarded, which doesn't seem very likely, or we're boarding an enemy ship." Dr_Demental suggests... "Dirge could drop grenades to lead the way for the troops!" Dirge says darkly, "Ooooh. Can I do that? Well... No, I guess it's not necessary. I'd be an unnecessary risk. Assess assess assess." Dirge hands over another tool. The tech, as an aside, looks like he was hoping for just that very thing. Then at least he could babble at someone interested in what he had to say. Dirge says darkly, "Do you want me too? I can see it in your eyes. The Dr here is more interested." Donovan_Thorn asks Nez'chre for status, since weapon sensors are offline. He can tell that the fighting seems to have stopped. The tech uhs. "Well, I can't stop you." Dr_Demental starts tool handing, "Just drop a grenade... and ghost! No risk... loads of help. Especially on enemy vessels." Dirge stands up. "Thanks, but not an intention." He goes after Caleb and the others. Dei' answers momentarily. "We sent them packing. Their fleet is in full retreat. We're going to try and board one of their ships that they left behind. You need any assistance?" Quincy blinks.. He seems to be stuck in gunner mode, hes not fireing at the ship being docked, but he doesnt seem to be looking away from the controls any, his eyes just kinda roam the void. The tech hrms. "So... where was I? Oh yeah!" He resumes his babbling about various components and their intended function. The 'MN' does... but just because the psychotic female Dr. D took the controls... in other words... BOOOOMMMMMMMMMM!!!!!! What a total waste. Dr_Demental asks, "And how... does the gravity function... or is it generated just out of curiousity?" The tech wells. "Typically our gravity shields function by lensing an area of space with angled gravitons. Normally we use an artificial singularity to provide the gravitational force necessary." Donovan_Thorn replies, "Status is stable but blind. Heading away from combat on opticals alone... some assistance would be nice, yes, but ignore me until the situation's green." Dei'nar'Ys blinks, checking the scanners as Doc D's vessel simply bows up (presumably) for no good reason. "Uhhh... okay. ... Quin? Hey Quincy, you okay?" Quincy Blinks.. He looks at dei.. "What?" He looks at the controls. he pulls his hands back... "Im Fine.." He coughs and stands up, and grabs his medical kit, opens it.. and takes some tylenol." Dr_Demental likes high yield antiproton explosions... quick and painless! "Mhmm... So does " A smaller vessel now approaches the fleet... looking like a modified F-19 hornet. Quincy grins at Dei somewhat sheepishly. "Just got into it, thats all. Heck.." He puts his medical kit on his back and smirks. "If i didnt know this was real life, id probobly be asking where the next wave is." Dr_Demental calmly cracks a walnut and listens. *crunch-crunch-crunch-crunch" At the airlock, the Nez'chre boarding party is essentially burning their way through the hull, which is possessed of considerable thickness. Caleb and Dirge both get offered environmental suits; they have no idea what the internal environment of the ship is like. Caleb removes his coat, and dons the environmental suit. Donovan_Thorn tries to patch into video. Dirge removes his as well, and gets into his suit, copious hair making it a bit hard, however. After quite a while, they manage to make a breach. Inside the hostile vessel is... a corridor. Just a plain, unadorned corridor, running into the distance in either direction. Quincy looks at dei. "Hey.. whats going on now?" Dei'nar'Ys hmmms. "We're boarding a disabled enemy cruiser, to see if we can't acquire and data about them or their objectives." Caleb holds his handguns. "I volunteer to head in first..." Dr_Demental hears the mention of the alien tech and... splits in two. One of him heads off to salvage parts from the alien ship, after a moment of rest, and the other remains talking. Dirge says darkly, "I can go in the other direction. How's that?" Quincy frowns. "Isnt that dangerous? It may be disabled..." Dei'nar'Ys simply. "It's risky, but we need information if we want to win." The commandos are not particularly adverse to the suggestion. "The core segment of the ship is this way." He indicates one of the directions. "But we're still going to have to split up." Caleb nods to the commando leader. "I'll head to the core, then." Dirge goes... In the direction Caleb isn't, because it just has to be that way. The group of commandos splits in two, the leader going along with Caleb towards the core. Dirge practices his runway walk as he heads the other way with some commandos... Dr_Demental part Deux waves as he passes Dirge. "Hey." Because... he's very greedy and any chance of acquiring alien technology... well... is like christmas morning to him. Caleb extends his emotion-sense...to feel if there are any hostiles preparing to attack as he and the Nez'chre leader show up. Call it a radar-for-baddies, only not so accurate. Dirge eeps and gets his walk messed up. "...Geez." He continues. Quincy frowns at dei. ".... Well.. if they need it.. i have medical help i can give.. do you know if theres anybody that needs medical attention?" The emotion sense bit... feels... something. But you can't find any analogue for it, and it's incredibly vague, giving you some trouble in telling where it's coming from. In both directions the hallway just keeps running on... and on... and on... it very monotonous. |OOC| Caleb says, "...That's sorta creepy." |OOC| Donovan_Thorn puts on the Jaws music. Dirge . o O ( I shouldn't have to walk THIS far. I wish one of these commandos would carry me. I might scuff a boot... ) |OOC| Quincy says, "*sends something scittering across caleb's feet*" |OOC| Caleb says, "Hi, Pasha! *picks up his puppy* ^.^" |OOC| Dirge says, "I want a puppy... ;~;" |OOC| You say, "...well, there goes the dramatic entrance." |OOC| Dei'nar'Ys chuckles, and waves the IC bat. Dei'nar'Ys simply nods. "I'll let you know if we have any injuries, but at the moment everyone's fine. Dr_Demental is still talking with the engineer, "Wow neat!" *insert more pumping for information here* . o O (My designs will improve vastly!) Dr. Demental part Deux, also known as the one on the ship, pulls out an MP3 player and starts listening to ominous armagheddon music. Donovan_Thorn ties the video feed into the scouter headset thingy, and lies back, watching. Quincy blinks.. and frowns. "Which way do i go to get to the ship?" Actually, the hallway does change, but it's exremely gradual and hence kind of hard to notice. The area becomes darker and more ominous as you go, however, and the dull grey metal that all the surfaces consist of begin to show the presense of subtle, organic seeming shapes directly behind them, like outlines in wax-paper. Dirge shivers. "Okay, if the floor starts moving, SOMEONE is carrying me." Caleb clicks off the safetys of his weapons...and moves more carefully, looking from side to side, prepared for most things he was trained for. The commandos likewise show an increased level of caution. Ahead of the party Dirge is with, the passage comes to a freaking dead end. And the walls seems to be pulsating... Dirge whews. Just the walls. He turns incorporeal and pokes his head through dead end to look around. |OOC| Dei'nar'Ys ahs. "That's the point of confusion, sorry. There isn't another side, at least not with-in the distance you could simply poke your head through." Dr_Demental part Deux draws his Death Ray. "I could try blasting through the wall?" And the original one is still listening intently to the engineer. ( Caleb's group, comes the a blind corner, quite unexpectedly actually. One minute, ominous but monotonous hallway as far as the eye can see, the other, 90 degree angle turn not more than ten feet ahead of you. "Clearly," one of the commandos muses "this is some sort of dimensional overlay." ) Donovan_Thorn is glad he's not onboard. No telling what funky interdimensionality would interreact with him. Caleb tilts his head. "This feels so strange...I've never seen a place like this before," he says, just barely a whisper. Dr_Demental who is very tempted to yell 'duh', maintains his silence. "I have... quite a few actually. Though... most were black with white threads." The commando leader nods. "Still, we must press on. Be careful though; at the first sign of any insurmountable risk, retreat. Caleb nods, and continues along, not risking to touch any of the walls in the case of any potential alarms going off. Quincy, just so he can say he did something during this time where all the action is on caleb and dirge and etc, he is talking to any of the gunners he can find, hopeing they speak english. Dirge pulls back. "I cannot see a thing. Shall we cut through deeper somehow?" Most of the gunners speak at least a little English. They seem rather impressed... Donovan_Thorn is doing jack squat! And enjoying it! Deep space is very peaceful, when people aren't trying to kill you. Quincy probobly does the most confuseing thing he can do, specially when people watched him do something. He asks them exactly what he did. Caleb continues on...and on...and on...til either something shows up or he and the leader reach the core. The Nez'chre hummmm. Then one of the gunners notes something about Dei' and then the others simply nod in realization. The Nez'chre are willing to try and bust on through. For Caleb, it's not long before he comes across something radically different from all that has come before. It's a large, circular chamber, at the center of which is some sort of floating device. There is however, a bit of a problem. The room is also filled partially with some sort of acidic compound. Quincy blinks... he tries to find out what they said. |OOC| Caleb says, "Is it like..a step below, or do they immediately walk into it, or is it in the air..? @.o" |OOC| Dei'nar'Ys says, "A step below." Dirge steps aside for the way to be made. One of the commandos pulls out a small chaped charge and plants it against the far end of the tunnel. Then everyone runs backwards post haste! Dirge steps into the plane of death. "I hope this doesn't wake it up. Or something." Caleb looks down at the substance...."This doesn't look good.." he murmurs softly. ( Quincy will have no luck in uncovering what was said by the gunners. ) Caleb tries to gauge how deep the stuff is by looking at it. The commando leader simply nods. "We need that artifact. Perhaps it's simply nothing, but we can't take that chance." He calls forward one of the commandos, who nods and sends forth a pair of small, flying drone units. Quincy just scratches his head. He mentions stuff like hwo the controls remind him of video games he plays at home, and asks if they ever play games.. stuff like that. >.> Then the ship shakes as the shaped charge goes off. A factor which exposes a considerable deal of gore, blood, unpleasantness, and open hole in the hull. |OOC| Dirge says, "Hole as in... Hole into the vacuum of space?" |OOC| Dei'nar'Ys says, "Yep." Dirge... looks for something to grab onto. Caleb slips and leans against a wall as he feels the charge go. "What was that!?" As the ship's sealed off, and you're each wearing environment suits, you don't really have too much to worry about. Well, the group with Dirge doesn't, except possibly Dr. Demental. Caleb, and the team leader, however, are standing next to a pool of acid. Dirge is still being sucked on by the void of space, and thus does not have the thought cross his mind. He claws at the walls. The probes latch on to the artifact a moment before a noticably stiff 'wind' begins to tug at the team members, and the acid. Perhaps retreat may be in order. Caleb decides to unsheath his katana...and..well..since he can probably hear the sucking of the depressurization going on from the bigass rupture of the ship..tries to cut off a section of wall so he can bring it back for the Nez'chre to analyze before suggesting to the leader that they get the out of dodge. The wall is very tough... but not on par with a Katana. The team leader gladly accepts Calebs proposal the moment the artifact is in their hands! The breeze is now a gale, eagerly venting into the void of space, sucking at you, anything you're carrying... and, quite nastily, the acid too. Caleb now, decides to run his ass back towards the ship, making a note of it to stay behind the leader. Just in case he needs to be pushed on through if he trips. Caleb also gets a few splashes of acid on his suit...and starts to run his ass even faster. C.C! It seems a lot faster going out than it was going in. But then you weren't suction assisted and being pursued by globdules of acid, either... in any case you're on the door before ye know it. Poor Dirge. That suctions mighty strong... Dirge grips the wall with his claws and tries to... Climb back through the hallway. Dirge makes it. :3 The part of the Nez'chre commando team that didn't allow themselves to get blown out the gaping hole in the other ship are pretty impressed by Dirge's tenacity. They're also quite impressed with Caleb's presence of mind. Dirge is known for being stubborn. ~.^ Caleb sighs...and hands the leader the piece of wall he got. "Give this to whoever needs it. Are we nearly done?" Dirge takes his helmet off once back in. He looks into his compact, but still isn't satisfied. "Does my hair look okay?" The team leader nods. "Yes. We're done." He extends his hand. "I am quite pleased to meat you, Caleb, betrothed of Dei'nar'Ys. Quite pleased indeed." Caleb bows his head, and shakes the leader's hand. "And I am pleased to meet you, sir." He never got the leader's name. "Perhaps, someday, I could spar with you. All of you even, to help each other." Donovan_Thorn, sensor-blind, has been slowly inching back towards the fleet for the last hour and a half. The ML3's getting uncomfortably close. It's taken actually quite a few hits more than he noticed, but if it can survive 3 tons per square foot pressure of water it can stand a bit of beating around. The team leader nods, and leads his unit away... the ML III... IV... whatever is probably getting picked up along with the Nez'chre who got caught in the blow out, actually. Donovan_Thorn is shocked out of a good zone-out by seeing one out the window. o@ Dirge ponders a new look... Donovan_Thorn goes [IC] In-Character. Quincy blinks at dei. "So.. Whats happening?" Dei'nar'Ys is waiting outside of the air-lock. She seems a bit strained, as she answers Quin. "Just clean-up. Picking up damaged ships, rescuing crewers where necessary." When Caleb walks in through the airlock, she'll seem much relieved... and quite intent on a hug. Dirge gets his coat back on and goes to rejoin the others, most of whom he hasn't seen for most of the trip. "Oh. They're here too." Caleb, after stepping in, hurriedly gets out of his suit since the acid's still eating at it...and then he's suddenly hugged. He holds his fiancee..tightly, looking surprised. This, as well as being his first operation with a team in...forever, has been his first time in space and such...and he's never felt more glad to hold onto Dei again. |OOC| Donovan_Thorn guesses he can presume Don'll get the help he needs to fix the ship, or at least get pointed in the direction towards home, so I think my bit is done here. Thanks for letting me watch! And goodnight. |OOC| Quincy says, "night don." |OOC| Donovan_Thorn has the whole thing logged, of course.