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May 2023 It's been hectic this last year, but we are alive and celebrating our fifth year of adventure and tales. A lot has been worked on to help make the Monoverse one that everyone can enjoy and explore their story while becoming a part of the greater cosmos. All of you, new and long time players, stay safe, and see you in the Sea of Stars!
It was as Czyereck circled the wreck that he noticed an opening into the vessel and the corroded, wounded metal that outlined the now ruined airlock. The large hole stared at him with the implicit mystery and threat of an old cavern. A scent moist and strange wafted out to greet him. The acid burns were not an unfamiliar sight. One of the Kromus' allies, the Kihunters, were capable of spraying the foul liquid as a weapon. Given the lack of other exits, it could have been the only option for escape at the time by weakening the door before detaching it from its frame.
That didn't explain the dead silence surrounding the ship however.
Slowly moving away from the entrance, Czyereck crouched behind a thick section of brush and removed one of his drones. He'd brought an extra two this time with a total of six. Quietly he dug a small hole into the earth and one of the machines would soon be covered under leaves and dirt. While there was a chance he might lose his control link to it, that didn't mean it would be inert. The hidden machine would be quietly watching and observing the surroundings, camouflaged against the forest floor.
Another drone detached from his body, this one's body slimmer like some robber fly. Four sets of wings beat into a quiet humming buzz and it circled around, back into the front view of the airlock and ventured inside. Through its multiple camera ports, Czyereck would inspect the interior of the crashed structure before he deemed it ready to be entered.
Followed more or less silently behind Seeker, arms raized and held behind his head in a relaxed, nonchalant fashion, an amused smirk hidden by his dark gas mask as he saw the artificial being scout around the grassy area, reminding him of a child with a magnifying glass running around a garden to look at all the bugs.
"You do you buddy. I hope you do find something interesting across this area...albeit everything seems...eerily quiet to be honest...We are surrounded by plant life on all sides, and yet no buzzing...no chirping. No pollinating life-forms. Either they were wiped out or...they feel this area is dangerous."
As if put on edge by his own words, the enhanced human would lower his arms, keeping them loose at each side of his body, his fingers mechanically twitching every so often, ready to reach for any of his weapons should it be needed. The tense environment is enhanced as they make their way fully into the collapsed wreck of civilisation, his teeth gritting as his eyes nervously twitch across the discarded weaponry and the organic shells littering the place.
He would look across the weaponry, looking them over to see if any are still serviceable despite being left here abandoned supposedly for 20 years, intent on finding at least one plasma pistol and one rifle that were still in functional state, if not for use at least as trophies...besides Seeker would most likely want them to deconstruct them and learn their blueprints for his Fabricator.
"I don't like this Seeker...it lost as if a battle simply...stopped right at its boiling point...Do you want to check if the power can still be activated or should we check the city management?"
"The Control Center should have some sort of auxiliary power generators if the planners had any sort of valid education, we can take advantage of such redundancies to make our job more efficient. Recommend heading there first, then swinging around to the primary power generators if this city's designers were uneducated rubes."
Seeker continued to scan the area in depth as he began to head towards the city's dead nerve center. The AI ceased his collection of samples and the like, focusing fully on keeping watch for hostiles. Blade and Pistol were stowed in favour of the Mag-Rifle, A pellet clip and the thermal attachment were plugged in, the latter giving off a dull orange glow as it's energy converter charged up.
-A bayonet would be really nice, I should request the Schems for one, I'm just geting into too many cqc playgrounds-
A thought occurs to him.
"Comrade, would you like a Shockblade and some training after this mission?"
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Aug 22, 2019 1:18:03 GMT
Eliza frowned slightly as she noted to utter lack of comms traffic in the area, then opted to activate the thermal imaging in her helmet's HUD in hopes of gaining a better idea of who or what might be present. Looks like the Kromus hit this place, she realized as she noted the burned out areas of the abandoned city. But the damage here isn't that bad, given what they've done..so where is everyone? None of this felt right, she felt, and the Witch quietly moved to traverse the cityscape while keeping to the walls of the various buildings as she made her way towards what seemed to have been the administrative center of the city when it had been in operation. Hopefully, there's still some power flow in the computers and I can sort out what happened here, Eliza thought. However, as she began to make good on her decision, she heard two voices, one, male, and likely human by the pitch, cadence, and fluency of Terran English, if with a faint accent that suggested Daibanese origins, and the other..curious. Mechanical. Robotic assistants weren't unheard of, to be sure, but the manner in which the second voice spoke suggested free will and reasoning, even more so than the smart AIs of the UEG era.Fuck it, might have better luck working together, she reasoned silently, then moved off, following the direction of the voices.
They hadn't been far ahead, she quickly realized, as she rounded a corner, and found herself face to face with what appeared to be a young human male, clearly augmented with cybernetics, though she didn't immediately recognize the designs. Seeing no need to keep thermal imaging active, she returned her HUD to normal, quickly analyzing the stranger, and then his companion. It was almost certainly a construct, and armed at that. More disconcertingly, it didn't fit any known chassis design she knew of, and if it was as sentient as it seemed to be, then a whole host of questions were also in order. "Identify," she snapped curtly, keeping her rifle held at a low ready, as much as she may have preferred to keep her point of aim on the unknown AI. They could still be allies, though, and most beings responded poorly to a weapon directed at their person. "Who are ye, and what's yer business here?"
Audio: "Who are ye, and what's yer business here?" Video: Tall Helmeted Female Humanoid, Armed and Armoured, Likely Human.
The AI's eyes flicked to the Woman's face and weapon in rapid succession, The individual didn't look like they'd be a survivor, too clean. She had Spurtech, that much was certain from the slight look-over.
"Independent contractors surveying the locale, this one is Voyager Operative Number 274."
Spurfolk tended to be suspicious and illogical, the Imperial Revenant checked his shock generators' capacitors and subtly discharged a little so as to reduce lethality. if the individual before him turned out to be violent, he'd at least have a better chance of gaining a prisoner rather than a smoking corpse.
"En Route to City Center in hopes of salvaging data, if our purposes run parallel cooperation may be optimal, else we suggest a mutual non-interference pact."
It's quiet, save the intruders. There are signs of old and smeared dark stains in the pavement near the management center, but beyond that, little to indicate what has happened in the colony. To point, crushed fragments of what looks like Kromus exo-skeletons are scattered here and there, along with a few smashed pincer claws nearest the entries to the city management center. As to the proper colonists of the city, however, no evidence remains aside the cast aside defense weapons.
The interior of the ship shows no signs of life. Bodies can be seen on the ground, clearly thrown about due to the crash, and in obvious states of decay over what looks to be at least a decade. Outside of this, the transport is visually all definitions of lifeless. It would appear, for all intents, to be safe to enter.
The muck sucked at his armoured boots and the hole in the ship greeted him like the enclosing jaws of some aquatic predator. His weapon was raised and swept every inch where his independently moving eyes watched. A laser pistol was held tightly in one of his secondary limbs, ready to draw and target a differing angle if he faced a surprise attack. Another smell greeted him as that of stagnant mud left; rot. A familiar stench of a hated enemy reduced to a slowly disassembling mess of dead flesh and crusty shell. Grabbing a loose bar that had fallen sometime during whatever blast opened his entrance, he held it in a secondary limb and pushed one of the bodies to try and roll it into its back. His rifle, now shortened to a carbine, was ready to blow it apart if it moved as his scanning software carefully attempted to find any abnormalities in the body that weren't explained by the mere passage of festering time.
Had by this point found a plasma pistol that seemed to still hold a charge, quickly hooking it to the plethora of buckles, hooks and other anchor points dangling from his belt, and was currently looking over one of the rifles when Seeker spoke up about a new weapon and training.
"Shockblades? I think you have shown me yours before. It would give me a greater reach for my zappidy zaps, and a melee weapon that doesn't double as a demolition/breaking and entering tool would be a nice thing to add to my repertoire. Besides, you do know I love my melee. Can't shoot worth a damn at long range...I might take you up on that."
The almost jovial mood is cut by the appearance of the armoured intruder, the sudden appearance and the snap command triggering the human's twitchy state, his right hand leaving the rifle he was examining and drawing one of his automatic weapons, Shout, as could be perceived by the white graffiti painted on the sides by him, aiming what was basically a modified uzi design at the newcomer in an openly hostile display, his brown eyes moving nervously across its form. That was an impressive piece of gear. Clean. Streamlined. Expensive. Military. An independent unit sent by a corporation perhaps? Well, either way, he did not trust it one bit. He let Seeker do the talking. As much as he hated the construct's neutrality, it did make him quite adept at parleying in tense situations, more often than not defusing them peacefully...If it were up to him he would have ticked off the limiters in his cybernetics and rushed the power-armoured ass at full speed. Buuut, here we are instead. Even as they spoke, the gun remained raised, unwilling to lower it until the other had introduced itself.
"Eligos. How about you reciprocate the niceties darling and share your name and purpose with us...you are looking a bit too shiny to be doing this for the cash after all..."
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Aug 24, 2019 4:03:53 GMT
Eliza stared coldly from behind the faceplate of her helmet, not at all fond of having a weapon pointed in her direction. However, short of revealing one of her best kept secrets, there wasn't really much to be done about the matter. Besides that, she could tell that while the stranger's weapon likely packed a punch for its size, and almost certainly was modified with gods knew what, it was unlikely to have the power needed to punch through her armor. Easier to humor him, she realized, and avoid a fight if possible.
"GalFed wants ta sort out what happened and make sure it's na a bleedin' death trap before they try usin' th' system as a stagin' point fer th' war. Na really a military woman, myself, but I'm na especially fond of bein' food fer some space lobster," she explained. "Pay's jist an added bonus. Get enough successful bounties, and Daiban and Sol are more like ta let ye have shinier toys, ye know? Name's Marie. Marie D'Arc," she added. Based on what she'd picked up from Eligos, he wasn't likely fond of professionals. A possible anarchist? Either way, using the name by which she was best known in this century seemed like it might complicate the situation further, prompting the Witch to give her birth name. "Guessin' by look and accent ye're Daibanese, but who's yer friend? Never seen yer make before," she explained as she turned more towards..Voyager Operative Number ..what? "Erm..274, ye got a designation that's na five klicks long? Might make communications easier," she remarked as she began looking around from her position, idly toggling through various scanners in hopes of finding some sort of indicator as to why the area was so devoid of fauna. "Place is bloody creepy.." she muttered.
"Shortening of the provided identification to an acronym would be acceptable. Sufficient trust has not yet been earned to receive personal identification. My design is not currently relevant, but it's standard Imperial design. Suggest keeping on task, standing in a single place and flapping jaws is a good way to get ambushed."
With that, the AI got back on task, slowly picking his way across the ground as he headed towards the administration building, quietly muttering to himself about probabilities in his native tongue. He then changed out for his Blade and Pistol as he prepared to breach the door and clear the room beyond, pausing and waiting for his Comrade.
"Suggest taking prisoners if convenient, interrogation of hostile entities would provide useful data. Even if prisoners can't be taken, I request that damage to enemies be kept as low as convenient, Dissections would yield valuable data. There better be some specimens to investigate, or I will be quite displeased, there's nothing to analyse out here."
The Scout was getting mildly impatient, it had been a very long time since he was able to perform some good old Science, but this world seemed to be conspiring against him. What's a bot got to do to get some Science going around here?
Bits here and there of the entryway to the management center are worn. Possibly the passage of time, weather stress, but little to explain the scratches in the ground here and there. Some strange burns in the framework can been seen here and there, but not much to indicate what had happened and why it was so lifeless. But the certainty is that this was the target of the evident attempts to bombard the city.
What was left of the Kromus corpse is hard to determine save that its entire torso appears to have been smashed open by something. The exoskeleton of the pirate is cracked and fractured in ways that looked to be the result of a large hammer smashing against it. The skeletal remains of its head, a pair of under jaw mandibles swinging free with needle point teeth, reveal it as an Urtraghan, but oddly enough, the mandible skeletal structure is itself cracked as if squeezed by a great pressure.
Further visual examination would reveal multiple breaks in the interior bone-keratin structure of the Urtraghan, indicative of blunt force trauma as well as at least one instance of a broken thorax split clean open. Perhaps an explosion or weapons' fire of some kind, but only Kromus corpses remain aboard, no traces of boarding action or recognizable external threats. Any further bodies examined reveal a few more in similar states as the first, while others show signs of severe impact trauma.
The gun remained aimed toward the female as she spoke, mechanical fingers rhythmically flexing and relaxing their grip upon the weapon, adjusting the way he was handling it. Despite the introductions he still did not trust the female, his dark eyes narrowing, studying the high-tier armour being worn by her. The tension is cut however when Seeker speaks, the human's eyes shifting towards the construct with a hint of amusement. Did he just fucking sass her?...He was so freaking proud right now.
The gun is slowly lowered and holstered behind his back, the rifle also being anchored to his other hip by a set of buckles hanging from his belt. Damn she was one to talk about accents, the fuck was going on with hers? He had half a mind to turn the translation function of his headset and hope it actually picks up what kind of dialect she is butchering.
" Yup, right on the money toots, Daibanese born and raised. As for my Comrade over here, well as you can see he will share his personal info once he trusts you enough. You are right on the creepy though...Its like the battle was paused and could just restart all of the sudden as if nothing happened..."
He would soon follow after the construct, his hands reaching over his shoulders to free his lockpicks, the reinforced fireman's axe and halligan bar, allowing the weapons so slide in his grip, away from the rubberised handle and instead choking his hold on the metal, which would improve his handling of his tools of choice, and allow him to channel electricity into the weapon.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Aug 24, 2019 22:30:17 GMT
Imperial design? This pair raised more questions than they really answered, though the AI had a point regarding standing in the open. She said nothing as she fell in behind Eligos, as if this were all prearranged. "Seems more than that, Eligos. There should be local wildlife, ye know that," she muttered as she checked her sensors for any signs of elevated radiation. It wasn't perhaps the most sophisticated scanner, though it functioned well enough for the task she demanded of it. "Na sure what th' attitude is, but donna call me toots again, understand?" she added in a near-silent growl, barely transmitted through her helmet's external speakers. The pair seemed like useful allies, Eliza concluded, though Eligos might prove to be remarkably irritating if this mission lasted any sort of extended period of time. As the other two prepared to breach the door, the Witch examined the burned on the framework of the administrative building briefly, though concluded nothing beyond likely plasma weaponry of some kind, and readied her weapon, tensing slightly with anticipation at possible conflict. It seemed that there was far more at work than what she'd initially assumed the job would entail, and the data found here might be more important than she had first guessed. It certainly was turning into more than a slight mystery.
Whatever the pirate had been was rendered deformed and obsolete by some horrifically destructive force. A body once menacing and terrible lay as little more than a shattered skeletal epitaph to whatever mayhem had consumed this chamber. It could have been a mutiny as it was no secret that the hatred that propelled the pirates to conquer numerous wolds could be directed just as easily to their own. A bioweapon was also possible given their wild and frequently unregulated experiments. Both could explain the mayhem seen within but it was skeptical that any such violence would result in the reluctance of any fauna to near the crash site. A virus would have spread further with ample hosts. He suspected that whatever was out there lurked at the edges of a safe zone, ever watchful of the lurking fear they knew was more than their primal instinct in overdrive.
If something could crack a kromus open as easily as a crab opens the shell of a clam, there was little chance he would fare better nor any mere beast. No mere explosion did the sort of damage rabid bestial instinct or maddening hatred did. Czyereck quietly flicked an internal switch in the hellhammer and internal components shifted to allow for a continuous loading of shells. The pistol was put away and a pair of weapons more primitive gripped themselves in his secondary arms. They were of little note visually; a pair of batons. Yet a blunt shape was all he needed if whatever lurked in there found itself in direct physical contact with an eskradion killer. Perhaps it was pride but he liked to imagine that whatever killed the kromus would find a much tougher quarry in their sworn nemesis.
He’d seen a ship like this before and he knew that commander quarters and communications would be found further within its body. Weapon raised, eyes alert, and batons ready to lash with crushing force, he advanced with a striding battle-hunger towards whatever horrific unknown was awaiting deeper within.
Entering the management building, more cracked carapace remains can be found here and there, along with similar dark stains to those outside on the floor and walls. A few pieces of what resemble Kromus pincer claws are observable, but beyond the open entryway, the interior is darkened and clearly not receiving power. From here, only any personal light projectors will illuminate the way.
Moving away from the opening and what little light filtered in, the intruder would find more bodies as they moved further into the partially flooded corridors. Whatever remained of the power reactors had long gone inactive as none of the transport's systems seem to be functioning. Lights are dark, displays black, and no sign at all of anything within being operational. Any light projectors carried would reveal only more corpses; various subspecies of Kromus, but all still of the extra-galactic aggressors.
