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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!
++"Mayday, Mayday, this is the Gal*static interference* Federation Survey Corps research frigate Theseus. The ship is currently under attack by unknown hostiles that possess sub*static interference* capabilities. Casualty figures for the crew are an estimated *static interference* percent and climbing, Galactic Federation Marine Corps contingent and on loan Confederation marine forces are holding for now but the hostiles have taken the crew, engineering and *static interference* decks. Repeat, this is a distress signal from the GFSC Theseus, and our coordinates are encoded within this SOS and will be transmitted every *static interference* interval. GFSC Theseus requesting immediate emergency support."++
This signal had been received by Galactic Federation officials twenty-eight hours ago and after a brief period of deliberation it was decided that a Search and Rescue request would be filed, passing it to the Big Shot Network and several other channels. While the status of the Theseus and her crew was of great moral importance, recent and turbulent events regarding a resurgence of Kromus in various systems made the allocation of assets challenging, severely complicating rescue operations. Therefore, it was determined that an open bounty was the fastest and most efficient means of providing the GFSC Theseus aid, as time was definitely of the essence.
To those who accepted, this Open Bounty would prove to be quite lucrative... but this signal wasn't only picked up by the Federation, who knew what other Samaritans - good or ill- also detected the SOS?
What dangers also waited on the research frigate? These questions and more hung on the minds of those who accepted the bounty mission... those who found themselves on approach to the coordinates supplied to them by the Federation.
Mission: ascertain the status of the GFSC Theseus and render assistance to any survivors. Secordary objective: Secure expedition data and equipment if feasible.
I CAN'T HEAR THE STARS ANYMORE... BUT THE VOICE SPEAKS TO ME IN THE DARK…
The lithe red gunship tore through the slipstream, surrounded by the cascade of rainbow prismatic light that the pilot was all too familiar with. Her passengers were likely an entirely different story, though both were clearly experienced enough with slipspace to have some idea of how fast they were moving through space-time.
It had been just over half an hour since they had left the confines of Reach orbit. While her passengers had been told to expect a faster journey than one would expect for a ship of the Thrush’s size and mass class, she hadn't quite told them yet just how fast it could transit at FTL velocities. For that matter, she hadn't yet even given her new bit of gear a proper field rest. This whole search and rescue should prove a perfect place for such.
They had just crossed through into the outer region of Sol Sector when Samus made some adjustments to the navcom and programmed in a change of transit ratio before looking back to see her guests in the mid-cabin. “We won't take too long to reach the coordinates, maybe a couple hours, so feel free to get something to eat or catch a nap while we wait.”
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Oct 28, 2024 6:03:54 GMT
"Understood," Eliza answered in an almost absent tone as she studied the ship around her. While she had never seen a Chozo vessel aside from one belonging to a certain Eresh Tarren, who was in fact a Mawkin, the knowledge she possessed of Samus's background and the fact that the Thrush didn't match any known ship designs in her database was all the confirmation she required. Even if she only had a few hours, she still wanted to learn at least a fragment, if she could. The mission she was on, however, meant that time for academic curiosity would be limited further still. It was unlikely she'd be able to study the FTL drive, certainly not before the mission was concluded, she decided.
"Cozy ship," the corporal remarked after a few minutes longer of studying what little she could. The data was recorded, at least, she mused silently as she removed her helmet and shook her hair out. "Yer da make this fer ye?" she wondered. "Donna feel like a production model, ye know? Jist has that..aura, I guess. Somethin' made special, and specially fer ye." While Eliza was honestly curious, her conversation had an ulterior motive, though she had no desire to even think about it. Even so, the woman couldn't help but to glance back at the man she'd been assigned alongside for this mission, and she repressed a shudder at the memory of how she had first encountered the Spartan.
"This one's na possessed," she muttered to herself, and she almost believed her own words.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
Vincent didn't respond to that, instead focused on what his hands were doing.
The armored giant had been silent for most of the passage since Reach, electing to sit about as far back as possible in the relatively cramped interior of the small gunship. It wasn't the first time he'd seen the ship, the first time he'd seen the pilot or even the first time he'd ridden in the back of the small vessel after they'd found him and the Anvil close to three years ago at this point. It was, however, the first time he'd gotten to do so as a matter of choice rather than necessity, and the first time he'd done so with preparation in mind rather than escape.
And preparation was the first and foremost thing on Vincent's mind.
"Maybe. Maybe not." He muttered at Lockheed's comment, gauntleted fingers continuing to slide rounds into a box magazine before placing it down and reaching for the next empty one. At least that was how she'd first introduced herself in the past, and it was enough to be what Vincent referred to her still. And while the comment was likely meant to be kept to herself it was loud enough for Vincent's enhanced senses to very clearly pick up on it. He still wasn't entirely sure how to clarify or quantify what all had happened on the Horizon's remains two years ago but it had very much prompted Vincent to bring a similar set of preparations along on this investigation as well. A heavier hitting submachine gun closer to Misriah standard, a number of grenades, assorted charges shaped and otherwise, a modified Spartan laser based off the one he'd brought aboard that ship... and something a little extra beyond all that, held securely in the hardcase crate he was using as a tabletop to load rounds into magazines by hand as he checked, rechecked and rechecked his gear again.
Plan for the worst, hope for the best. And while Vincent wasn't particularly impressed by the mention of the Galactic Federation Marines on board given what he'd heard of their first deployment alongside the "AESIR-IIs" that Zachary had been helping train... the knowledge that the Confederation soldiers on board were getting pushed back in addition to the other armed personnel did warrant some element of concern.
Kromus, Kig-yar, Banished, Kriken... all manner of things it could be among those that Vincent had learned of within the last three years and he fully planned to be ready to deal with any one of them after the last such incident.
I CAN'T HEAR THE STARS ANYMORE... BUT THE VOICE SPEAKS TO ME IN THE DARK…
The corporal was a little too inquisitive, in Aran's opinion, especially so casually referring to Maru as her “dad”. That was reserved for people who actually knew her and the depth of the Chozo tiercel’s relationship with her birth parents. Admittedly, it wasn't helped that Confed had released details on her adoption by Maru as part of propaganda and morale during the first year of the renewed conflict with the Kromus. But that had been in good faith at least, and they had left out the details of her genetic splicing. That damned holofilm, however…
“If you mean my adopted father, yes, Maru designed my gunship for me and had it fabricated by the foundries on Zebes before they were evacuated by Confleet and the Sangheili.” Her eyes shifted to her other guest, a veteran of the years when Urs had not exactly been an ally to Sol. Silent, barely talking, and making sure all his own equipment was ready when they arrived. “He did a lot of work to make its systems work like they do, and many of those details, I'm not sharing.” Especially not with a DAW adjacent trooper whom she had reasons to distrust, regardless of Lockheed's relationship with Eresh.
Her attention returned to the front viewport, though the navcom had most things in hHan. Traveling through the slipstream was much like traversing slipspace; it didn't need much direct attention from the pilot, unless something unexpected occurred in realspace, such as a nova, a pair of stars merging, or even an unexpected black hole crossed their path at that moment. It allowed Samus to observe her guests more as they awaited arrival, notice traits and little physical cues they presented. The Spartan had been in the Thrush once before, when they had met three years ago during her recovery operation of the UNSC Euclid's Anvil</i>. She still had shivers when recalling the encounters with the Banished, and fighting raging Jiralhanae there.
As harrowing the thought of facing the Banished might've been, it wasn't something she would have to dwell on for long- thanks to the insistent small talk from the Lockheed woman. Samus' attention would be redirected to the Thrush Eterna's navcom ten minutes before exiting the slipstream as it picked up a familiar contact signal: the Strix-12? That was odd... Eresh didn't say he was taking this mission too, at least he never mentioned registering for the bounty. That was at least slightly encouraging, they would have another familiar joining them in case something hit the fan. It didn't hurt that he apparently had just arrived, it would be a simple matter to rendezvous with him and coordinate a plan for insertion. The translation to from slipstream space was smooth as normal, allowing Samus to see their target:
Looming in the orbit of a small moon was the Griffin-Class frigate Theseus, seemingly intact and undamaged. Ordinarily ships such as these were naval workhorses for the Federation, serving as military escorts for capital ships - but it was also well known that the Exploration Corps had repurposed a number of the vessels for long term planetary survey missions. More worryingly was the apparent lack of hostile vessels or signs of combat anywhere around the Theseus; no debris fields, no ghost returns indicating weapons fire... not even superficial damage to the frigate from what could be determined by the Thrush's equipment. The only thing emanating from the vessel was that repeating distress call. And after a few moments the Strix-12 came into visual range, a hail soon following.
++"Thrush Eterna, this is the Strix-12. I see you finally made it, Hunter Aran. I've tried hailing the Theseus a few times before you arrived, but I didn't get a response. Perhaps you'll have better luck Ha'chidari."++
____
Eresh would wait for a response, idly looking over his shoulder at the pair of cases he had secured on the floor, strapped to one of the passenger seats. "I'll get you unloaded soon, I promise." he muttered, returning his gaze to the readouts on his command console... frowning behind his helmet.
A lone Strix-class light interceptor pierced through interstellar space. Onboard, the receiver caught an interval of the Theseus distress signal, and began relaying the message through glowing blue holoscreens and Mawkin text.
Being still poorly acquainted with the official language of the Galactic Federation, Quick Storm ran the signal through her translator. She could hardly remember if she was assigned any of the Federation language and custom training back on ili Tarin Nalima - if she was, she certainly didn't care to pay attention. Not to those stuffy officials whose heads were emptied out of any notion of the free Mawkin spirit, and replaced with discipline and brow-beating and 'Why won't you apply yourself?'
But all that's behind her now. This hour or two of silence since she'd left the homeworld resounded all the harsher, after everything that had happened just before. She had been using that time to figure out what leads she had. Not much. At least, not until now.
Her attention snapped back to the severity of the distress signal. Hostiles attacking a Galactic Federation research frigate? An open bounty?
Her beak clicked with excitement, and she instantly punched in the new coordinates. She took a moment to check her ship's shielding and firepower, and another to calibrate her pistol. Competing with fellow hunters in a firestorm against unknown foes might be just the break from silence she needed.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Oct 29, 2024 5:31:42 GMT
"Knowin' my luck? Probably is, or somethin' similarly fucked," Eliza muttered in the same quiet tone, but now with the words intended to be a reply to Vincent's. I'll keep eyes sharp fer anythin' of that sort, jist in case, since that's a bit more my wheelhouse than yers." It was honestly probably the most Eliza had said to the Spartan since the ill-fated mission on which they'd first met. That didn't bother Eliza in the least, though, and implications aside, she was glad to have one of his talents on hand. A brief glance from Vincent back to Samus was all she spared either party before she rose to retrieve her own gear to make certain all was in order. She'd made a few requisitions, but much of the equipment, munitions, weapons, and ammunition was her personal property, a holdover from her not-so-distant days as a bounty hunter.
"Ye can relax, Aran. Much as I'd love ta talk shop about th' exemplary work done on this ship, this is neither th' time nor do we actually have enough of it. I was jist admirin' what I've been able ta see, that's all. Could talk yer ears off jist as easily about my own ship, ta tell ye th' truth. Though somethin' tells me ye'd rather I na," she observed. "Though if that alert's any sort of indicator, that's about ta be moot," she added before falling back into silence, making sure she had in fact loaded the more expensive and more devastating Havoc rounds for her Valkyrie rifle, as well as the well-worn hard case that contained an array of grenades and breaching charges nearly as devastating as those Vincent had brought, though in lieu of heavier munitions and ordnance, Eliza had opted for mobile shield projectors and additional medical kits to aid any survivors.
She remained in relative silence for the duration of the journey, organizing her gear in priority based on how soon she thought she'd need a given item, then sealed her helmet to run systems checks. This was the first mission for her new armor, after all, and she had no intention of having any surprises come up in the middle of a fight. Most of the technology, however, was tried and tested, and within five minutes, Eliza was satisfied and ready to begin. Nearing time to revert to realspace, the corporal perked up, hearing a particularly familiar voice.
Eresh? she blurted incredulously. "I thought ye were sittin' this one out? Th' hells are ye doin' out here?" Despite her questioning the Mawkin's presence, a ball of warmth formed in Eliza's chest, at least, until she registered what else he'd said. "Hmm..sounds like survivors arna likely," she remarked, more to Vincent than Eresh. "Already gettin' that feelin'."
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
Vincent didn't respond to that, instead focused on what his hands were doing.
Vincent didn't so much as twitch or react to Aran's words despite her glance back, the mirrored gold of his visor remaining entirely centered on what his hands were doing as the Spartan continued to casually load magazines where he sat towards the back of the ship, effectively dominating the small space given the bulk of his armor and the hardcase crate he was using as a makeshift workspace. Things had changed even towards the end of the war, and while Vincent had admittedly struggled in coming to terms with that shift in the handful of years following it... different time, different place. Wouldn't mean he'd be entirely pleased to be working with Sangheili but it at least meant he'd offer them some modicum of respect in place of the wide range of colorful slurs that their human opponents had developed for their kind over the course of that war.
It wasn't until a new voice came in with a fresh transmission that Vincent would finally spare a small glance towards the front of the ship, helmet turning just enough to catch some of the blue light being shone inside of the small craft.
Hunters from the sound of it, and about as close to his first impression of them as he was likely to get. Lockheed aside, the other individual aboard the Horizon was closer to a scrapper or scavenger, more interested in picking the last bits of flesh left on the bones of the place than finishing a job. The lack of response from the Theseus itself wasn't promising, though. Impossible to be sure of the cause - an attack could've caused any number of problems from power outages to component failures that might prevent outbound transmissions - but as Lockheed responded to the transmission in Aran's place with a degree of familiarity all Vincent could offer was a shrug from where he was seated.
"Can't do anything about it if that's the case. Can figure a fix for the cause, though."
I CAN'T HEAR THE STARS ANYMORE... BUT THE VOICE SPEAKS TO ME IN THE DARK…
Her eyes narrowed as she watched the mawkin gunship appear in visual range. What was Eresh doing out here? While there had been an open bounty to assist in search and rescue efforts, it had mostly been military and private mercenary units responding to the call, to her knowledge. And doing babysitting for a stranded Galfed corvette wasn't exactly something she expected Eresh to involve himself with.
Not to mention the earful she had gotten from representatives of Advanced Warfare after what had happened at Agár and her treatment at Beta-Five. They had not been happy about Eresh coming with her to a highly sensitive site, though that had been mitigated by the fact she would likely not be alive without him. However…on top of that…she had told General Be-hek about Agár, and he had actually gone there to meet them.
And had gotten them all on the Arbiter's bad side, which had taken Dane no small amount of smoothing over, and likely still hadn't blown over entirely with the Sangheili. Not so much her direct actions on Agár, and less so her partner for the trip, just the fact she had been rather less than confidential about the location and specifics with a military leader who was not technically affiliated with the Confederation or the Sangheili Nation-States, nor was included in the higher up in the Federation who were nominally part of those discussions.
Corporal Lockheed saved her the response, and it still made her curious as to how the supposed half-yl'fyn was so familiar with a Mawkin “outcast”. The Spartan said little, but his assessment was on point.
“We'll know for sure once we breach and board,” Samus remarked as she tapped a few keys on the projected control board. “Eresh, I would ask why you're here, but it was and open bounty posting, so I'm not gonna pry.” Though she was curious, as Lockheed mentioned she had thought he was sitting the job out.
“We'll make dock in ten minutes,” she reported as she fed instructions into the navicomputer. “Make sure you two are ready so we can get this done, find any survivors, and figure out what the hell happened here.”
Eresh would take a moment to compose himself as the surprise overtook him just as much as it apparently had for Eliza and Samus. Aran's presence was more or less a given, but he hadn't expected Eliza to be accompanying her on such a mission; that told him that this search and rescue mission was probably more important that the BSN had implied. On the other hand it also meant he didn't have to make any detours during his current assignment, so perhaps he was luckier than he anticipated. Sparing another glance at the pair of cases behind him he would properly respond.
"To answer your question, I was actually hoping to meet Aran in order to hand off something for her to deliver to you Corporal - you had left a case of munitions in my hangar the last time we met-on top of something for the Hunter herself. I must confess I didn't expect the two of you to be on assignment together... it seems to be quite the auspicious happenstance." He then let out a soft sigh. "Sadly I cannot remain for too much longer, but I can at least lend assistance to the boarding action if you would have me; it would allow me to drop off these packages as well. Furthermore--"
The Mawkin was interrupted as his ship's proximity alert systems warned him of another incoming vessel. Turning his attention to the console in mild curiosity he would take a moment to see what had decided to join them... and his expression turned to one of shock behind his helm. The read out detailed a Strix interceptor on approach. The inhabitants of the Thrush could hear the Chozo swear incredulously in his native dialect of Chozia over the comm. "Samus, are you reading a new contact at the moment that matches the profile of my vessel; only smaller?"
I CAN'T HEAR THE STARS ANYMORE... BUT THE VOICE SPEAKS TO ME IN THE DARK…
Her head snapped quickly to the sensor monitors, noticing the very contact he had told her to look for. It took a moment before the onboard AI identified it as…a Strix interceptor? That was a Mawkin scout-class fighter, who was all the way out here from Tarín?
“I see them,” she responded, now gesturing for her guests to make sure they were safely secure. “Were you expecting an old friend from the tribe? I can't imagine why else a mawkin interceptor would be all the way out here.”
Which made her worried that she was soon going to get another earful from Admiral Dane and the Sangheili about sensitive information. Even if it was an open bounty on the BSN forums, she was accompanying Confed assets. And how had he been able to assume that she would have crossed paths with Corporal Lockheed to relay some errant equipment?
That was going to have to wait. They had the mission at hand, and this unidentified Mawkin fighter to deal with first.
This now excited formel knew in her bones what this crew was she found in her radar. Why else would a lone Mawkin Strix-12 be wandering so far out of reach of the homeworld? And it didn't take a master Thó'ha logician to discern where they were headed, too.
She wondered who this red gunship was that accompanied it. It was unlike any ship design she had seen before, even from what she recalled of the Galactic Federation. Was this a friend of his? A fellow bounty hunter en route to this open mission alongside him? It would fit right in with Eresh's legacy back home as an unfettered adventurer to have acquired an eclectic ally or two. In any case, in these dark reaches of space one's chances of survival increased exponentially in the company of team - at least that much stayed with her from her training. After having left the homeworld behind indefinitely, this would perhaps be her best course of action.
Not keen on remaining strangers for long, she hailed both vessels. She had no doubt Eresh Tarren must remember her. And curiosity got the best of her about who could possibly be aboard such a peculiar red ship.
Post by Eliza Silvermantle on Nov 5, 2024 20:33:37 GMT
Eliza frowned quietly as she considered Eresh's words, though she didn't say anything on the matter. She knew well enough that she'd left nothing behind, but this was neither the time nor place to raise such points. At least, not verbally. She knew Eresh knew Samus well enough, and with it being her ship, Eliza dd feel a need to make sure she was at least aware.
[Miss Aran, Eresh is my..partner, so I hope you understand then why he is so familiar. Met when I was still a hunter. However, I have all my munitions accounted for. I trust him, but whatever he's bringing, it isn't anything I left behind. Thought that. As this is your ship, you ought to know. I hope he isn't planning a joke. His timing is sometimes terrible.]
The message was sent in text format to Samus's comms console for her to read, though by the time Samus might have finished reading. Eliza's attention was on the newest arrival. "Quite th' crowd.." she remarked idly, then returned to gathering her gear. "Spartan, ye want one of these deployable covers?" she asked as she held a unit up.
the things that you might like don't grow inside of me
"Hold onto it. Odds are you'll get better use of them." Vincent responded, only finally speaking as Lockheed directly addressed him. It wasn't an exaggeration, either - while such units had existed back in the era he'd been born in and had seen a good amount of use on both sides following the end of the war it was never a technology he'd been all that partial to. While it was true that his armor's shields were just as good if not superior with the amount of upgrades that had gone into the Mark VII and later GEN3 modifications... fact of the matter was Vincent tended to prefer ever getting targeted in the first place, let alone hit. If he found himself in a situation where that kind of emergency cover was needed it was a sign that things had already gone very far south and done so very quickly, enough that pulling back to regroup and reassess was probably the move to make anyways. Shielding units like that were best suited to something akin to siege tactics as the Covenant often tended to employ during boarding actions when they fought person to person and deck by deck.
Not the sort of thing Vincent generally did if it could be avoided, and at that point he had other options available between the ability to carve new and unexpected pathways through bulkheads or through use of a ship's existing systems.
That aside, though, it sounded like local space was getting rather crowded. None of them were people Vincent was familiar with from what he could hear towards the rear of the ship, though, and for the moment none of it frankly concerned him in the slightest - in terms of worry or involvement - as he finished loading the last Prowler magazine, strapping the metal box to one of the pockets attached to his armor's chestplate before starting to sort through the last of his gear in a final check. Couldn't see all that well from the rear of the small craft with both Lockheed and Aran between him and the narrow front viewport but it sounded like they were getting close to their destination point.
