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Marek "Hmm. I guess I just got used to the lack of stimulation. Now that you mention it, maybe that's what I need right now." He then follows Moon and waits to see what the officer she talked to has to say. At the moment, he realized that he would like to know what someone who is not command staff might say about how things were going on the station.
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May 15, 2016 22:45
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Alarus "That's why we fight, really, isn't it? For things like pineapple juice?"
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May 17, 2016 00:59
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"Hey, yeah," the pilot says as he float-hops up to the group, trying to listen to four questions at once, "I'm Jason Grey." His AR tags don't match the rest of his group's... or rather, they're all different. Same squadron command, all different ships. They must be from the fortress's space defense squadron. "Look, we... I... welcome to Orcevaux. I'm sorry about having to shoot you down in the blind like that, but our contact protocol is hosed six ways from Sunday. If it helps, you guys made the right call taking it on the chin like you did, I know that couldn't have been easy. " He ruffles his hair sheepishly and continues, "Anyway it looks like you're all set for drinks over here, but you're owed some favors. And I'm the favor guy." "Short straw. Heh."
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May 22, 2016 06:58
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Moon She’s cheerful about it - no sense in resentment, “I figured it was something like that - not that we could’ve put up much of a fight anyway - our whole ship’d been rebuilt and glued back together six times. We hadn’t checked back in in like… almost a year?” Moon looks to Marek, and shrugs. “If you’re doing favors, how about some company? We’ve been on a carrier with skeleton crew,” she reflexively grimaces as ‘skeleton crew’ is maybe not the most sensitive descriptor for having lost most of your crew, “for so long, and the only person here we’ve even talked to has been Aiguillette - which is… informative but not much else. What’s even been going on since Trieste?”
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May 24, 2016 03:44
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Marek "The situation was a bit tense, but I'm just glad you stopped when you did." He nodded at Moon. "Yeah, it seems like we've missed out on more than a few improvements for ships. It'd be interesting to know what else has changed since we lost touch with everyone else."
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May 25, 2016 21:05
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"Thank god you didn't take it personally," Jason says, waving over the rest of his group, "I mean, it wasn't personal. It was orders. And it was the only way to be safe." "This is Humboldt, Serece, and Otlr. We're you're welcoming committee." The other three offer handshakes and polite greetings. Humboldt and Serece look like they're probably space-born; difficult to tell where they're from since spacer ethnic heritage is murky at best. Otlr, though, is definitely from Xibalba. She has a hard look about her, forehead and cheeks scoured as though by wind or sand, and chestnut-colored skin and hair. As garden worlds go, Xibalba is the poor nephew with a blighted biosphere and only five or six hundred million inhabitants. And they're far underrepresented in the military. They're a rare breed compared to Mu's ten billion. "Anyway, yeah. Happy to show you whatever you want," Jason continues, "But I bet you have a better story to tell than we do. There was a massive attack right after Trieste, but since then the rebels have been keeping to the edge of the system, picking off our outstations and packet ships and refusing a stand-up fight. It's been an endless string of sensor ghosts and contact reports. We've been sortied at least once a day for the last month, but there's never anything there by the time we jump in." Serece adds, "We're not getting news from the outside anymore. Last report was that Gambetta and Decaen Fortresses are under siege as well, but that was... a while ago." "Our defense wing is based up there in the fighter bays on dock seven," Grey says to Marek, pointing to one of the civilian-restricted dock-arms of the military port, "But if you want to see the capital ships, they're berthed up in the other dock arms. Not too many here, I'm afraid. I wish more made it back from the counterattack at Trieste." He points up at the massive cruiser that was just making port when the crew woke up in the fortress hospital, now visible as a dim shape in the mist high 'above' the port hub, "See that? Mithra was the last big one to make its way here. That must have been four months ago."
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May 30, 2016 07:44
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Moon She's glad for the conversation, her face bright at the prospect of meeting new people. Moon listens intently - most of it sounds like she'd expected, if a little grimmer than she'd hoped. "Better stories than that? I don't know..." She circles around and seems to think on it, "Our attack ship was damaged at Trieste - the first time - and we had to pull back in motion, tore the bay to pieces just about. Which would've been bad, but the carrierr'd already been infected by something - hostile synthetic intelligence, I think..." She looks to Marek, telling the story with confirmation from him, "So the hangar is dark, and we crawl our way out of our pods, and salvaged some drones - about half the drones were still ours, and another half'd gone hostile... Just the most ludicrous end to a ridiculous day. We lost our carrier's synthetic intelligence," the smile drops from her face a little, "A lot of our crew..." She slows down and sighs, "Long story short, the hostile intelligence was so pernicious we had to scrap the entire ship's systems piece by piece and rebuild them. Never got sub-light propulsion back. We've been doing tiny hops for the past ten or eleven months, limping our way here." She never mentions how they'd used Red to replace Okeanos, or the loss of the Commander. The details aren't needed. "When we finally got here and the doors were closed, I think I nearly lost it." She tries to put on a smile and laugh at this but the pain and truth of it is still a little too fresh, "So your um, hostile welcome was a sight better to us than no welcome at all." She does a small salute with a couple of fingers, then looks to Marek once more, "This is going to sound a little weird, but have any of you, um, seen either of us before? Here on Orcevaux? Walking around, in passing?"
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Jun 3, 2016 20:42
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The four stand and listen quietly as Moon summarizes the events that led to the long journey of the Okeanos. At the part where she begins to describe emerging from the wreck of the Hunter and engaging in a compartment to compartment battle to retake the carrier from the compromised drones, Humboldt tries to interrupt. "Wait, you fought a counterboarding action against the Trieste Entity? I don't..." Jason mutters, "Shut up, Rory. Let her finish." And then at the end of the story, the four look at each other with a mix of surprise and disbelief. It's obvious that they're shocked. Except Otlr, for some reason. She looks at the others with a blank expression. The group almost ignores Moon's question as they try to comport themselves to continue the conversation. Otlr steps away from them to answer. "Not a weird question at all," she says, "All four of you flew with us in the defense of Orcevaux Fortress during the counterattack. You saved our lives." Jason cuts in, "That's, uh, not really true, I mean, they're not the same people as..." The small woman rounds on him and points a finger in his face, "Really? You believe that? This may not be the Moon Su-kyung or the Carl von Brandt that were with us then, but they are the same people. Who else could do what they've done? Who else!" Grey raises his hands defensively and goes quiet, leaving Otlr to trail off and resumes her poker face, which Moon now identifies as a mask of cold rage rather than of indifference. Serece and Humboldt have halted their quiet side conversation to stare awkwardly at Otlr, which leaves Grey to cough and say apologetically, "The four of us feel that we owe you something. We have a difference of opinion about what that something is exactly."
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Jun 6, 2016 08:50
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Carl He thinks back to Trieste as Moon recounts the whole escapade from what she was able to remember. He has more of the story, what with being the principal architect of throwing a spinning ship through warp back into a cradle bay. At least they were still alive in present form to tell likely one of the tallest tales around the station. Outside news was likely slim, and these folks likely would use that social currency with other peers in the coming hours. Carl crinkles the juice packet that he had been sipping on for the past long while, taking his turn to speak up. "If you want to owe anything, tell me a bit more about what's new for entertainment around here. Given that a lot's changed since We - that is, the people you're talking to right now, not the other Carl and Moon - have been here last, I think catching up on things not related to deployment and the trip back would are in order." Softball it, Carl, everybody gets on edge in situations like this. He smirks, genuinely, as a bit of an icebreaker. "There has to be something new and exciting that's cropped up for recreation in the past year, right? New games, interactive media, music, anything?"
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Jun 6, 2016 19:54
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Marek He wanted to learn more about what had been happening, but he didn't want to have to talk about what happened to them. He was happy to see that Moon could fill them in on their story. However he found himself a little concerned by what Otlr had said. She mentioned Moon and Carl, but not him. And he didn't want to inquire what that meant. Marek had a suspicion that his clone might not have performed so admirably. On the other hand, he thought that it could just be that his clone worked in the background and didn't distinguish himself. He would have preferred that over the possibility that his clone was defective or screwed up. He decided it was best not to say anything and then later on perhaps he could check on his clone's service record. Instead of dealing with his personal issues, he decided to ask about something else. "The Trieste Entity? Is that what's its called? Is there any information known about it?"
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Jun 12, 2016 22:14
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Moon She’s taken aback by the outburst, allowing the dispute between the other crew to part them while she frowns, “No, it’s… It’s fine - we’re still trying to figure it out ourselves. It’s… weird.” She sighs and waves it off, “I was hoping we’d get to Orcevaux and it’d be simple again - a new CO, repaired ship, a regular assignment. But it just got even more complicated, and then Command just puts us out here to figure out what to do with ourselves.” Summoning up a forced smile, she prods in a direction that appeals to her interest in synthetic intelligence and away from the uncomfortable discussion about identity and the other iterations of Moon. “But, yeah, hey, tell us about that Trieste thing - did they say anything about it?”
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Jun 17, 2016 08:36
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"Well, there's a general order about it. Rules of engagement, that kind of thing," Grey says, "But if the brass have any hard information on what the Trieste entity actually is, they're not sharing it." Humboldt adds, "It's some kind of infomorph and it corrupts any computer processor gear that it can open a data link with. Oh, and it breaks several computational laws of sentience. Scales down to run on hardware that it shouldn't be able to and doesn't suffer from nemesis executions. So whatever it is, it's more sophisticated than any of our military AIs. In some ways." Stranger and stranger. One of the critical flaws that have always prevented consumptive AIs from running away in the past is the problem of fragmentation and hostile self-execution. AIs that copy themselves recklessly can end up spending more time fighting their own nemesis executions than the outside world. Only two contagion-type AIs have advanced to an installation or planetary-scale infection in the past, and both of them succumbed almost immediately to the problem before being destroyed by their biological minders. "As far as we can tell, Web forces in the Trieste system have either been subverted or completely wiped out," Grey continues, "But the entity hasn't moved to expand. Our forces haven't engaged the subverted fleet since Operation Javelin, and since then Gullveig's standing order is to avoid contact." Serece answers Carl, "Sure. I mean, there are thousands of refugees up in the hab clusters now," jerking her thumb 'up' for emphasis, "So there's all kinds of stuff you've never heard of in the civilian night market. It's been a little... tense... with some of the refugee populations pushing and shoving each other, but things have been quiet lately. We're not getting much in the way of broadcast material from any of the garden worlds anymore, so most of what's new is up there. Ever heard of this crazy zero g ball game, Ul?" Marek perks up. He's heard of it. His home station invented it.
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Jun 19, 2016 20:15
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Carl Hearing about the 'Trieste' entity in that way made sense. He was there, after all, and he had fought drones controlled by it, as well as seen what the original Alarus had done to...Better not to think on that. He looks thoughtfully at the new Alarus, wondering if he would arrive at the same choice if he was infected to completely burn his neural net out and render himself a vegetable. "Never played it or heard of it, but if it's taken off in the station in its current state, surely that must mean that there's some people getting real into it, eh? Tell me more about this game, sounds like my jam."
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Jun 21, 2016 01:14
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Alarus Screw zero-g ball! Alarus wants to hear more about this Trieste Entity. It doesn't make any sense. Put aside the fact that it breaks normal rules of computing, contagion-type AIs aren't built, and it's for a reason. They're purely destructive. They don't even make very good weapons, for that very reason. It was a little bit like biologics before gene-targeting. Until the end of the old Terran era, nations didn't generally use biological agents as weapons because there was too big of a risk of them getting out of control. You made something that wiped out the enemy, and then, if you weren't careful, all of your citizens died of supermeasles themselves. It wasn't until the end of the Terran era, when they were able to engineer viruses down to specific populations and groups, that viral weapons became popular. It was the same thing with a contagion AI. It was just too dangerous to make....intentionally, that is. He could almost understand the brass's security fetish in this case. Even knowing it existed could be dangerous While all this was going through his head, he tried to pay attention to the zero-g ball talk.
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Jun 21, 2016 03:38
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Marek An uncontrolled infomorph that figured out how to avoid nemesis executions or was programmed how to do it. In a way it sounded like some kind of weapon of last resort to retaliate when all is lost, but something like that usually only existed as a deterrence with the other side knowing the consequences. However, it could also just be an experiment that that escaped some lab. At least it wasn't expanding. Then before he thought any more of it, he heard Serece mention one of Palllas' few claim to fame. It made sense that a bunch of bored asteroid miners would come up with UI. There's only so many vids you can watch and a person can't go outside to spend time. UI gave people a form of entertainment they could watch and partake in. "Whoa now. That's getting to be famous around here? I haven't heard much of UI since i was home. I'm from Pallas. I started playing it myself just before I went to college. Once in a while I heard about the game, but I really didn't think it would be that get popular with people other than miners." He paused and then asked, "What do people around here use as equipment? I know back home the players would often borrow gear from the mining operations. Especially the miner vac suits?"
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Jun 21, 2016 23:28
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Carl "That's from your home place? Doesn't that mean someone imported that sport to here since we were last here? Maybe the other you?"
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Jun 22, 2016 21:19
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Marek "I wasn't that into the sport, so it had to have been someone else. Maybe someone from my home came through here? Either that or the sport got real popular real fast."
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Jun 24, 2016 21:42
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Carl "Station's been on lockdown for some time, but it's possible. Maybe someone you know, right?" He looks over at Alarus, who was clearly a bit lost about the whole Trieste thing. "Web innovation is crafty, Zaal. Your past self burned out his entire neural net when he went up against the Entity - if that's what people are calling it." His face turns into a grimace, as he remembers the losses and painful repairs they had to make. It was a miracle they actually got out in the first place - certainly, nobody here thought they'd be back. "Are there, like, pros doing the zero-g ball thing? Can we go catch a game?"
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Jun 25, 2016 03:48
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Moon She’s mostly in the same boat as Alarus – sure, the sport sounds cool, but considering the two of them have spent most of their adult lives elbow deep in synthetic intelligences, the Trieste entity is going grab attention. But there’s that thing, though, that tempers Moon’s excitement. They’d encountered it – Alarus here doesn’t remember though. He doesn’t remember how he spasmed and choked as the entity blew out his survival systems, how Alarus burned out his own wetware. How Moon had tried to patch his suit with hers, how she’d fumbled to try anything to save his life. It was something. So that's why she winces, looking down and away as Carl, in his Carl way, just unloads the fact of the matter. Maybe that was the answer though. Summoning up some cheer from her dwindling reserves, she reassures Alarus, “If you want to talk about it sometime, I’ll tell you what we saw – it was… academically amazing, but maybe not the first way I’d put it – but maybe a diversion’s better right now?” Ambivalent fucked around with this message at 07:16 on Jun 25, 2016 |
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Jun 25, 2016 07:14
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Humboldt is obviously an electronic warfare specialist. He nods at Moon and Alarus and says, "I'll send you what I know about the Trieste Entity later, but it's not much to go on. We've not had any direct contact with it for several months." Serece shushes his sidebar and says to Marek, "There's ten thousand people from Sol system up in the civilian sector. One of the refugee fleets was sent to settle in the Ghustov system, and that place got hit hard when the Perseus Front collapsed, so they came here. They started playing Ul among themselves in the hab spaces and then... well, it's popular now." "No professionals," she says to Carl, "But plenty of amateurs!" She proceeds to describe the outline of the game. Miners honeycomb an asteroid with support bars and webs before starting the sintering process to extract the valuable materials. Without the supports, the asteroid might explosively decompress or spin to pieces as the mining operation removes more and more material. In a big enough asteroid they start at the center so that they can keep all the material contained as you extract it. Basically drill in, shoot supports through the rock and ore, and then carve your way out. That leaves the center of the asteroid with a big empty void crisscrossed at all angles with the remaining supports and ore extractor conduits. This is the Ul field. Within this space, the miners would spend their off-hours playing a game based on Rabbit. A ball is thrown into the space, and then the players struggle to grab and hold on to it. Extended contact is allowed with the ball only - the players can slam into each other, punch each other, and kick off any surface, but grabs and holds are barred. However holds the ball for a pre-agreed length of time is the winner. The reason for the game's popularity is its mutability. It can be played with any number of players, in any zero- or micro-gravity space large enough to hold them. It can be played with in a free-for-all melee or with any number of teams. It can be played "naked," with shirt-sleeves and customary rules about minimizing physical contact to prevent injury (or not), in soft-suits that allow just about any type of beating without real harm, or even with thruster packs and hard-suits. The only absolutely necessary equipment is an Ul ball, a light-weight wiffled thing the size of a melon that picks up incredible speed in the zero-gravity environment and whose dimpled shape and hollow core cause it to spiral and corkscrew unpredictably. This all comes tumbling out in an overexcited torrent before Serece pauses and asks, "You guys want to play? There's a good court in the day market that's probably empty."
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Jun 26, 2016 23:16
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Carl "First physical thing I've done that hasn't been work related in real world months," he says. "Plus, I'm sure with things as crowded as they are, there's always a chance more people will want to come and play. What do you say, Marek, Moon, Alarus: might be your cup of tea?" He gestures to Serece, "Lead the way - I'm game."
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Jun 28, 2016 23:04
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Marek The news of refugees from the Sol system elicited a depressed sigh from Marek, but hoping not to draw attention to it he spoke up about UI. "Can't imagine what the sport would be like with pros. Wouldn't seem right. Part of the fun of the game just involved coming to consensus on the rules for the match to happen. And not to mention figuring out what gear is allowed. I guess since there's not much mining going on here, people don't play it in soft suits. I always thought that was part of the fun. You could be physical, but you didn't have to worry about getting hurt much." He rubbed his chin as he remembered playing back home. "Yeah, I'd like to play too."
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Jun 29, 2016 19:54
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"True," Serece says, "But that hasn't stopped people from playing full contact. Particularly those of us with military mods." She carries on a bit about various developments in the sport as the group heads out through the transit system to the civilian quarter. Ul is in a period of rapid evolution as refugees from various Web client states and stations that have poured into the fortress adopt and adapt it. Many still play the way that Marek is familiar with; other variations are almost unrecognizable. Some of the Perseus refugees have taken to playing with a ghost light rather than a real ball - an AR projection that darts around randomly, attaches to players, and can only be moved or handled according to a strict set of rules. The military personnel have adapted a hard contact flavor where possession is passed only to the player who strips the ball from the previous carrier, making the scrums over the ball much more aggressive as the attacking players mix it up with each other as well as the defending carrier. The day market is surprisingly quiet, for what amounts to the center of a refugee camp. The market is a large collection of skeletal habitation frames that have been welded together around what was a simple commercial shipping dock. Many of the refugees have set up stalls here, using the surplus of their energy and fabrication allotments to produce goods to sell and barter with. As a military installation, Orcevaux is well supplied with fabricators and blueprints to produce the basics of civilization in quantity, but almost nothing in the specialty civilian craft or luxury good markets. The influx of refugees has been both a blessing and a curse in this regard; it has stretched the fortress's resources close to the breaking point and compromised its military fabrication output, but at the same time the new population of civilians has made the outpost tenable for what might be a de facto siege of years or decades. Now, the most industrious of those new arrivals have constructed day-stalls to hawk their wares to each other and to the fortress garrison and the crews of those fewer and fewer ships that arrive. The skeletal physical structure makes the day market appear as a cobweb, stretched out around the transit line apparently at random and then fastened back to it to keep its component pieces from drifting away. The orbital micro-gravity allows tenants to attach their little booths anywhere they can find substantial structure to clip into, so the market is a riot of random open spaces and dense clusters of awnings, restaurants, and shops. The colors are muted earth tones in some areas and riotous neon in others, reflecting the conflicting design aesthetics of different groups of refugees. Marek sees a few symbols and patterns familiar to him from the main belt; the others are as strange to him as alien writing. Dozens of people hand-over-hand and free-fly from one place to another. Some are belters, others military, a few show the cautious gait of planetsiders who have little experience in space. Serece squints through the mess and then mutters, "Crap. Looks like someone's in there already." Near the edge of the market, large mesh nets have been erected to cordon off a part of the structure to turn it into an Ul court. Small figures are flying about and colliding crazily as they chase the tiny white speck of a ball.
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Jul 5, 2016 06:25
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Moon Moon’s attention is strained when Serece is talking. More than once, she lifts something from a stall, examines it, places it back. When she does attempt to purchase something, it’s digital – caches of media mostly. News, entertainment, journals, publications, whatever. The newest bits she can find, from where ever refugees have brought them from. With Orcevaux cut off as it is, older models of media distribution become viable. And one person’s tabloid is another’s cultural codex, so they say. Well, nobody says that. Moon might. She might need to workshop it a bit if it’s going to be quotable. What she most wants is something from Mu but it’d likely be all second-hand – hard to imagine there’d be refugees from the garden world. She picks up a couple of novel sims, games, pieces of software – bits and bobs that appeal to the builder and tinkerer in her. She’d probably hunt for something more tangible if she didn’t have the sneaking suspicion that she’d be just stuffing it in a service locker somewhere and never touch it again. She settles for picking up a little roughly-crafted wood frog suspended in gel inside a small sphere – she liked the way it wibbled and wobbled when you shook it, and at least it would be as entertaining sitting in a locker as it would not. Fully distracted with digesting her purchases, she actually collides with Serece when they stop, murmuring an apology. Looking up, she squints her eyes to get a look at the court – field? It was called a field. Moon’s focus tightens on the distant players, butterflies fluttering in her stomach and her throat tightening. By her training, she recognizes what is happening to her body as a stress response but that seems weird - it's just a sport. Hesitantly, she offers, “Oh, I don’t know – I don’t know if I’d be any good at that.” Looking to the rest of her crew though, "I could give it a shot though." Ambivalent fucked around with this message at 10:28 on Jul 6, 2016 |
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Jul 6, 2016 10:23
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Marek Moving through the civilian sector made him uneasy. These people couldn't be that happy with this arrangement. Especially the people who weren't used to living in space. Must feel crowded to them. All these people and only so much space. And even though its not the UGM's fault, they are probably going to blame the military for any troubles they have. Marek made a point not to let his gaze linger too long on anyone. He didn't realize he was even doing it at first. It was common practice back at home. In a strange way it helped deal with having people in close quarters. After being in the military for a while, he had moved away from doing it, but now with all these civilians around the habit came back to him quickly. Even though his mind focused on the social dynamics of the station, he managed to listen to Serece. "Back home playing in old mined out asteroids, we got pretty physical. If we weren't suited up, people would be breaking arms and legs. Not only from other players, but also from being checked into rock walls."
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Jul 12, 2016 19:52
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Alarus "So, play the game enough, and we won't have to worry about the war, you're saying? We'll get all our casualties this way?" He grins as he sees the other players. There's too much tension around this place. A good game might be good to take everybody's minds out of the funk they're in.
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Jul 18, 2016 02:10
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Carl Like the others, the unmistakable stench of a compromising situation was easily detectable. Not a lot can be said in this kind of setup, but living on a ship or in space stations instead of planetside is always like you're missing something. He knew the feeling well before he even enlisted all those years ago. He takes mental note of the comings and goings - surely, these Web refugees have quite a bit of a different social dynamic than others in the station that are UGM-bound or from other self-professed neutral territories. As they neared the Ul court, he perked up a bit. "I mean, if they're playing, that means we can play with them - or against them, right? Unless there's some kind of rule about court usage, since Ul's rules are always changing, might as well go see what's up. First time I've heard about it and first time I get to play it - wouldn't miss it!" He made an effort to gesticulate enthusiastically at the rest of them - the already somewhat dampened mood needed some kind of uptick. "Look at it this way, Moon - we play, get some adrenaline out, go for non-juice beverages afterwards." A rare offer from Carl, indeed.
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Jul 27, 2016 02:12
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Marek "Yeah, we could probably challenge one of these teams. And its not a hard game to figure out how to play. As long as a person is fine moving around in microgravity, the rest of the game is easy."
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Jul 28, 2016 19:42
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"Well, it looks like they're in a free-for-all," Serece says as the group halts at the edge of the arena. There are a dozen people inside, darting back and forth and smacking into each other for pursuit of the ball. "We can join them as soon as they finish the round, but I'm not sure-" with a crack, one of the players whips backward and delivers a crushing bicycle kick, somehow failing to dislodge the ball from the carrier's grasp. A third player floats in, spinning slowly, then suddenly pulls her arms in toward her sides to speed her rotation like an ice skater. The trick puts far more useful kinetic energy behind the close elbow she throws into the carrier's stomach. He doubles over and releases the ball, spraying spittle and retching. "Jesus," Humboldt mutters, "This is worse than usual." The temporarily victorious player snatches the ball with one hand and hooks a foot around one of the midfield obstacles, swinging around it and then catching a hand-hold with her opposite hand to arrest her movement. Two others signal to each other, joining forces to try to strip the ball from her. They have the advantage of mass, but she has the obstacle to work with. Stowing the ball in the crook of her arm, she crouches against the pylon, then kicks off hard and pivots on her handhold. One of the attackers misses her entirely while the other gets a heel in the small of his back as she swings around him. He goes flailing in one direction while she takes off like an arrow in the other - straight toward the arena gate and the onlookers. The match buzzer sounds, ending the game. The approaching player waves at the group. It's Everett.
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Sep 20, 2016 06:28
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Carl Of course it's Everett. The lack of surprise is evident as she waves. "That's the chief tactical combat expert that kept us from eating it," he says to Humboldt. "Putting skills to good use, I see," Carl says, waving back. "The eleven other people in that arena give you any competition?"
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Sep 21, 2016 19:17
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Everett laughs, "Holding their own, I'd say." She flips an AR display. Looks like 'M Deseret' won the match by a few seconds over the duration. N Everett is third in the list. She shuts off the scoreboard and pulls herself through the entry gate to join the group on the other side and smirks, "Apparently they didn't spend enough time training me how to run away." Carl's never actually seen the marine officer port-side before. She's got her hair in some kind of asymmetrical braid that causes it to form a loose, loopy halo around one side of her head even after loosening it. She gives the other players a series of slow-motion zero gravity high fives as they come pouring out of the arena behind her, reserving a handshake for a dock technician with the winner's name embroidered on his shirt. With the game dispersed, Everett turns back and asks, "They tell you guys anything? All they told me is that we're on a forty eight hour liberty while they sort the ship and figure out what to do with us."
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Sep 22, 2016 02:33
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Moon There’s a visceral impact, watching Everett’s performance – her discomfort mellows the joy of reuniting with someone else from the Okeanos. Moon crosses her arms and shakes her head, “Well, our backups, and our backups’ backups have been out doing good deeds our name – they had us down as KIA, apparently.” Moon shakes her head, “I don’t know from the war, but what we’ve gathered, it doesn’t sound great. We’ve been talking to these guys,” she indicates Serece and Humboldt, “but it seems like Orcevaux’s been fighting it’s own battles for awhile now.” The specialist looks down at the ground, something bothering her. Even she can’t quite figure out what it is. “I don’t know what they’ve got planned for us. How was the Okeanos when they found you guys?”
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Sep 22, 2016 06:09
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Marek As he watched the players in action, he nodded in appreciation. Hearing about how the sport had spread made him wonder if they softened it up for people not used to the rough nature of the sport. What he saw here scuttled any thoughts that game play would be restricted. This was the kind of action he expected to see when teams from his home played. When Everett joined them, he smiled. "Good job out there. I think you were born to play the sport." In response to her question, he just shrugged his shoulders. "We're just in a holding pattern for the time being."
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Sep 22, 2016 17:01
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Alarus Alarus looks faintly nauseated by the athletic display. This WAS worthy of combat pay. Still, he gives a wan smile to Everett when he comes over. "You know the military. It's all hurry up and wait."
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Sep 23, 2016 01:15
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"Bleh," Everett says, waving noncommittally at Moon's question, "They got us cold about five seconds after you displaced. Mithra jumped in right on top of us, put a lance beam through the ripcord spine, and boarded us in a matter of seconds. Nothing to do but wave the white flag and cross our fingers after that." Serece shrugs, "It would have been a lot of worse if you'd put up a fight. General Gullveig's issued a standing order that unverified UGM ships are hostile after what happened at Trieste." "That's a hard pill for any soldier to swallow," Everett says, grudgingly. "Some didn't," Humboldt mumbles, "So we shot them the gently caress down." There's an awkward silence. Everett coughs and turns back to Moon, "Life's poo poo sometimes. Anyway, you want to know the craziest thing you'll hear all day?" She pauses for effect and smirks while waggling her eyebrows, "My clone's still on the base. I met her this morning."
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Sep 24, 2016 01:32
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Carl "That...That's gotta be a bit of an experience. I'd only hope that my other self has the same love for juice that I do," he says, mostly in an effort to fill the air gap that Everett's new information provided. The others from Trieste was a bit of a let-down, but, exceptional actions in times of war. He knew what could happen given, as did everybody else. "I'd say that based on the current state of affairs just from a little tour around dockside that the lockdown is taking its toll. That said, I think everybody's in that holding pattern. That we're dockside in the first place is probably something with little precedent. Also, uh, Everett, meet the new Alarus Za'al. He's back in our group now. Alarus, Everett." He mulls over and reopens a train of thought from earlier. "The docks here are putting up some new ship types. I know we're out of date, but they're also not UGM standard frames. I'd like to meet whoever's responsible for the new vehicles - we didn't have a chance out there against the interceptors."
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Sep 24, 2016 01:43
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Marek "I'm glad that we did what we did out there. It could have been really bad." He knew that the options he pushed for and now he regretted coming up with them. Nothing gained and a lot lost. "Yeah, life is poo poo at times."
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Sep 24, 2016 02:07
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"Uh, welcome back, Za'al," Everett says, then jerks a thumb over her shoulder in response to Carl's question, "Shipyard's back up behind the military port. Dunno if they'll clear you to go up there, though. Secret projects." Officer Grey pipes up, "Commander Vaeli runs the design bureau, though. You could send him a message."
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Sep 25, 2016 00:05
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Carl "Thanks for that info. I get in touch with the Commander later - likely, it will be useful to know what our operational flight capacity is relative to the rest of what's docked here. However, I'll do that a little later. For now, though, maybe I want to get in on this game that I learned about not a few hours ago," he waves at the arena that Everett floated from. "Think we can get a game in, or is the court full up?"
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Sep 25, 2016 20:51
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Serece chimes in, "Our defense squadrons are mostly on the ready line. The Web hasn't made a serious run at the fortress defenses for months. And we've another hundred or so ships in dock that made it in from Trieste and the rest of the Arm before things got really grim after the last offensive. The rest of this tonnage is civvie." She gestures around. The day market is mostly open, but beyond it in every direction is a maze of prefab habitation modules and ships clustered together. There are a few cracks where one can see all the way to the edge of the shell, but most sightlines are blocked by a combination of structure, ship hull, and the ever-present floating clouds that drift about lazily in the micro-gravity. The fortress defense squadrons comprise around five dozen attack ships of various hull types. The basic idea is that Orcevaux's main battery can destroy any target large enough to be a direct threat to the base while the attack ships are tasked to mop up swarm attackers and hypervelocity kinetics launched from beyond the main battery's range. The layered defense strategy is effective, but it does have flaws; namely, the fortress has little organic capability to mount operations beyond its local zone of control. Serece immediately lets go of that line of conversation when Carl circles back to Ul, "Hell yeah we can get a game in! Full contact OK with you guys?"
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Sep 25, 2016 21:12
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