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Interest post. Thinking Outsider. https://soundcloud.com/arashiofordo3/we-all-lift-together/s-xD2AP The harsh light of the florescent bulb buzzed noisily above. Detective Marks glared at the strangely dressed girl across from him. This case was annoying him. First there's some kind of meteor crash in the mountains near the city. People were feeling spooked. Then this... girl, just started stealing things in broad daylight! Didn't even try to hide it! By all rights this one should be a superhero job. But for some reason "Strangely dressed" and "Just harmlessly picking up electronics and eating food without paying for it." Didn't quite attract their attention. Bloody capes... He looked down at the evidence of the things she'd been gathering. Phones (both working, and display models), radios, computer parts, random bits of metal, a half eaten bag of spaghetti (uncooked). "Why did you want these?" He asked. Holding up one of the radios she stole. She looked at his face, then his lips, then at the radio. Then back to him. Nonplussed. He'd spent the last hour trying to talk to her, question her. But she hadn't answered anything, or said a word. Just watched him curiously, or examined the room. Occasionally she'd try to reach out for one of the items. The handcuffs had proved effective at curbing those impulses. Was she an immigrant? She definitely didn't seem to understand English. No ID. No nothing. That skin tight suit didn't seem to have many pockets. Ughhh, this was getting nowhere! "Sit tight. I'll be right back." He muttered. She looked at him again, head cocked on one side. Stopping short of cursing under his breath, he left the room and moved to the observation window. "Anything?" The Sargent asked. "Nadda." Marks replied bitterly. "Anything on file? A person doesn't just show up like this." "$50 says she'll be an alien." The Sargent joked. Marks shot him a dirty look. "What? She could be. These people just show up out of nowhere at this point." "Does she look like E.T to you?" Marks says, crossing his arms "$100's says she's some rear end in a top hat kid, thinking shoplifting is cool, who's playing dumb to the cops to try and get out of it.". The Sargent pulled out his phone, chuckling. They both jumped as the Girl suddenly leapt up and seemed to stare directly through the window. "What is she doing now...?" Marks started to ask and his mouth hang agape as a small metallic drone materialised in mid air. It was about the size of a cat. It bleeped quietly twice, and the window smashed! Atomised more like! The phone shot out of the Sargent's hands and attached itself to the drone! Sparks of lighting shooting through the handheld device. It burnt to cinders in seconds. "....Uhhhhh...." Marks says. The drone beeps. Floating back to hover over the girl's shoulder. [[Establishing Communication - Speak Identified: Anglish Selected. - Hello]] "Uhhhhhhhhh?" The Sargent goggled. [[Identifier - I am a Carrier of The Fleet. I am Fleet. I am speaking through this ship. I am lost. Crashed. Signal Lost. Aid requested]] The drone put out a metallic, if identifiably female voice. The girl seemed to be sending it a signal somehow. She was certainly looking a lot more expressive now. "...My phone..." The Sargent mumbled, stunned. Marks was the first to recover his demeanour. quote:• Where do you come from? Where's home? He asked. Fleet, pointed upwards. [[The Fleet. We flee home. Attacked. Signal Lost. I crash.]] "Right... sure." Marks pinched the bridge of his nose, this was going to give him a headache. "-and why do you look human then?" [[Why do you look Fleet?]] Fleet replied. The translation clearly wasn't perfect. But she'd gestured to herself. So she was the one speaking... or, at least, making the Drone speak. "And the Fleet are?" Marks said, eyes narrowed. [[Fleet are Fleet. We all work together all for greater whole. Ships, travel through voidspace. --Accessing data-- Your 'internet' contains interesting information.]] Fleet opens a transparent glowing screen in front of her, symbols and pictures flying past her eyes. [[You would call Fleet... communist? Union of individuals. All share, all work, Supplies and effort offered to greater whole, all part of the Fleet. Fulfil assigned roll. I am Carrier. I fix, and command iea93=193t3]] She frowns. Then shakes her head. Gestures to the drone. "You're controlling that... thing?" [[Not 'thing' - is iea93=193t3. No equivalent word. Culture touchstones missing. You are not Fleet.]] "We'd call that... a robot? A drone?" The Sargent offers "D-Draane?" Fleet attempts to copy. Her voice is quiet. Sweet, in the halting manner of the uncertain. She mutters it to herself a few more times, no closer to actually saying it right. [[Designation updated - Drone. I command Drones]] quote:• Why did you come to Earth? [[Fleet attacked during Maintenance. Enemy strength unknown. Fleet status unknown. Hive damaged. Crashed on world local designation Earth.]] "Hive? Like a bug?" Marks prompted Fleet shook her head. [[Fighter designation craft. Logistics and technical platform. More powerful then personal command enhancement.]] "I have no idea what any of that means-" [[It drones better.]] The translation fuzzed, as though uncertain. Fleet looked uncomfortable. [[Uncertain to explain. Not Fleet.]] "Fine. So why were you taking... any of this stuff?" Marks sits back. He was actually getting answers. [[Hive requires repairs. Damaged in crash. Sensors detected resources. Need was great, so I took what was needed.]] "That's stealing." Marks replies. Fleet places her head on it's side. [[Stealing? I don't understand? Need was great, so took what was required. No more.]] "You didn't pay for it." "P-Paaai?" Fleet mimicked. "You know, money? Where you trade money for goods? Paying." [[Ohhhhh]] Fleet paused, brow furrowing. [[What is money?]] "Jesus Christ..." Yep, there was that headache. "I- okay, let's change the subject. If you crashed, where's the rest of your people?" Fleet dropped her eyes. [[Location Unknown. Insufficient data. Signal Lost]] Wait, was she crying? Do aliens even cry? She was sort of shivering. Holding her arms around herself tightly. "God this is above my paygrade. Stay here, don't touch anything. I need to make some calls..." quote:• Why do you want to stay here (for now at least)? The Detective (for that is what she found out he was called. But also "Marks"? This human naming structure was very strange) had called a collective group, who had been trying to help her adjust to life here on Earth. They display unusual abilities. But seem to spend more of their time fighting others like them, than helping their greater community. As a whole, human society was tribal, driven by greed and profit, they were divided, fearful. She could help these people. Teach them the ways of The Fleet. To work together. To share what they have. So much good could be done. But she knew she was a stranger in this world. Her values were as alien to them, as they were to her. They'd been kind enough to recover her ship. Offer to help her repair it. But only if she helped them. It was a fair barter. She'd accepted automatically. It had been the closest these Humans had come to good sensible Fleet behaviour. She requested materials, they brought them to her, she fixed her ship, and in return she joined in their fights. Like all Fleet, she was trained in battle. She wasn't a Cruiser, or a Destroyer. She wasn't focused on heavy battle. But as a Carrier, her shields, and her drones seemed sufficient for dealing with most situations. Her biggest issue was... fuel. The Hive ran on a composite fuel. She could make it. But it was difficult to get hold of the parts. She could make enough for limited atmospheric flight. But not enough to breach the atmosphere. Never mind that she couldn't detect The Fleets signal. Without that, she couldn't find them. She'd be flying into certain death. Especially with The Enemy out there. Undetectable bioships made of nightmares and death. As much as she hated being stuck here, it was preferable to the jaws of a Hagrassa. quote:• Why do your people want you to come home? Fleet is Fleet. A union of a people. Shorn from their home. They work and live as one. Every person for the Fleet. They live on a ever moving collection of ships. From which they take their name and identities. They are a dying people. Fleeing an enemy which seeks their complete extermination. Every individual is important. Every hand needed. The young especially for they are few in number. And any member of the Fleet not pulling it's weight, is dead weight. And there's nothing worse then being dead weight. quote:• Why do you care about the team? The Fleet are a union. They work together to achieve things they could never do alone. The team is like a battle group. Cruisers, Destroyers, Carriers, Frigates and Fighters all working in tandem to win the day. Cruisers to absorb damage, Destroyers to deal it, Frigates to support, Fighters to defend and react to changing situations, and Carriers to command and guide. In this way, The Fleet persists. So too, will the team. quote:HERO NAME: Fleet Arashiofordo3 fucked around with this message at 18:45 on Sep 16, 2018 |
# ¿ Sep 7, 2018 15:47 |
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# ¿ Apr 29, 2024 01:26 |
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quote:We didn’t trust each other at first, but that changed. How? Why? When I arrived, it was not hard to identify the source of the greatest damage. The human who's voice was ripping the building apart. As a mechanic, you fix that which is causing the break. So it was obvious that the Luna Orbital Body Inflammatory Chemical Projecting Giant Lizard Royal Daughter would need to be fixed before other issues could be worked on. Why are you looking at me strangely? Did I say something strange? Anyway, I sent a drone to assess the situation. Sure enough, I found the Lizard Daughter. But she was trying to put things back. This was confusing. Why would the source of the problem, attempt to fix the problem it created? I had to investigate further. I closed to cruising speed, arrayed my Drones into defensive formations. [[Halt! Please refrain from destroying further buildings. Please do not attempt to depart the area.]] And that was how we met. Because it was at that moment that everyone else showed up as well. With was good. Because blowing the roof off of the building... brought something out from under the museum. It was big, and it was angry.
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# ¿ Sep 16, 2018 20:46 |