Docking Hub - Comorro Station - Comorro Station
Comorro Station isn't exactly a station. It doesn't remain in any one place for a significant span of time. It is, in all accuracy, a massive starship - incapable of atmospheric flight - that has been roaming the stars on a voyage that some say has lasted for more than 90-million years.
The vessel is a Yaralu, a sentient spacefaring vessel. Her true full name cannot be spoken in a single day, but is shortened for convenience to Comorro. Several epochs ago, after her final era of fertility ended, she converted the gray-green ribbed chamber of her womb into a docking hub for smaller Yaralu and non-organic vessels. She made it known to the denizens of Hiverspace that she would serve as a neutral outpost for traders and diplomats.
Use of energy and projectile weapons is prohibited aboard Comorro. Violators will be absorbed into the vessel's nutrient replenishment matrix. She is capable of monitoring almost all chambers within the station for illegal weapons, but some areas - such as the Forgotten Quarter - are lost to her neural pathways and sensory organs.
OOC: Please note, the Olympus is not readily accessable unless you know her co'ordinates, hired someone who does or arranged a pick up. If you would like to do the latter, please contact Olympus crew in order to arrange a scene. A list of crew members can be found on the wiki page.
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Wed Jun 16 17:10:02 2652
Contents:
Overmind Dean
Newm's Gunbunny Kestrel
Razorback comes out of his 'wreck' of a ship, pondering over some papers. He seems to have just stepped out of the refresher. Probably spent the past hour or so getting his mane straightened out as a result. The Light's cargo ramp trundles open, but nobody comes out of it. Inside, however, sharp ears could pick up the sound of a female voice swearing roundly. While they're translated by Comorro (and they'd probably make a sailor blush), the peculiar grammar and idioms of at least three different languages can be picked out: Standard, Hekayan, and Lotorez.
Dean steps down the ramp of the Obsidian Dust, carefully reaching the floor of the docking hub. He's got some new rags he's reppin. Eyes find Razor, and the bot heads his way at a casual pace.
Did someone say sharp ears? Razorback's audio receptors swivel toward the Aukam's Light and he chuckles a bit, looking up from whatever he is studying until he spots Dean. "Ah," he says, "Good evening. Arrre you prrreparrred?"
The Overmind paces further to the Demarian, reaching a hand up to tighten the tie just a tad, straightening it so it's literally perfectly in the center. "Ready," Dean responds, his gaze drifting to the Aukam's light. "What's that all about?"
Razorback frowns a bit, glancing toward the Light along with Dean. "That musst be the hatch Missss Kesstrrrel mentioned," he says, then jogs over towards the vessel. "Could you use ssome assssisstansce?" he asks of the Later as he comes up. Without waiting for an answer, he reaches over and begins to gently pull on the hunk of metal. Gently, so that he doesn't throw the person on the other end off balance.
Kestrel is taken by surprise nonetheless, as she has her back against the stubborn hunk of metal and is pushing with all of the might her skinny little legs can muster. Really, all that happens is her boots slide on the deck. The hover units whine just a bit in protest as she catches herself against the bulk behind her. "Uh... if'n ya don' mind? Thought it'd be easier ta move."
Speaking of that hatch, it's a twisted mess. Well, it *was* wrenched out forcibly and thrown into a bulkhead, so it rather makes sense, all told.
ZO2-791 'Dean' treads after the Demarian, offering his brawny assistance as well, going on the other side to distribute the strength. "Hey Kes," he greets, "How's the cleaning going?"
"I do not mind," the Cliffwalker says. Between the three of them, there should be little difficulty, and he silently goes about the business of metal-moving.
"S'goin' a'ight," Kestrel replies, still with her back set against the hatch. "Jest wanteda get 'is thing outta m'way, like, so's I kin start puttin' th'engine room back ta rights." She looks around, and chooses an empty place beside the ship, pointing. "Think we kin jest put 'er 'ere. Someone'll want 'er, m'sure. Not me. Rather jest get a new one, m'self."
Well, yes, moving the twisted hatch door provides little difficulty now that there's three people working on it. Okay, two people working and one person tagging along for the ride, really.
Dean helps move the metal hatch to the indicated position, carefully setting it down with Razor. Right after, he pats off his sleeves and examines his attire carefully, looking down over it. Everyone has been given one RP Point! Confetti points brought to you by: Brody!
Razorback straightens after putting the hatch down. "Sso, did you want to come with uss and watch uss attempt the impossssible?" Razorback asks of the Later with a toothy grin.
Kestrel flops down onto the ground after the burden is in place, taking a deep breath and holding it for a few moments before letting it go. "Thanks," she offers, nodding. Noticing Dean's scrutiny of his own attire, the Later stands up again, frowning. "You gotta spot on yer shirt," she says, pointing at a spot near the Phyrrian's collar. A shrug goes toward Razorback. "Whatcha mean?"
Dean smirks a little at Razor's comment, but when Kes speaks, he turns to try to find a reflective surface, trying to locate the spot. "Where?"
"Convinsce a grrroup of Ungsstirrri that they do not rrreally hate the Phyrrrrrrians sso much," the Cliffwalker replies with a chuckle, tilting his head to crack his neck.
"Right 'ere," Kes reiterates, reaching up (way up, as in on her tiptoes) to poke Dean in the nose. "Beep." A paroxysm of giggles overtakes the Later at that point, rendering her unable to respond to Razorback.
Dean chuckles a little bit, concluding, "Ah, a joke. I should've computed that." He seems satisfied with his appearance, and at Razor's comment, he nods, "Should be difficult enough...Do you have anything pre-written?"
"I do," the Cliffwalker replies with a nod, "But I sshall not be rrreading frrrom it. Wrrriting it down was merrrely to help me rrrememberrr the morrre imporrrtant pointss."
Kestrel looks between the two, then grins sheepishly. "Better you two'n me. Wouldn't have a 'Kari-cursed clue what ta say 'cept ta tell 'em 'ey was bein' stupid, an' I don' think 'at'd work to good." At this, she chortles gleefully. "Was plannin' on takin' out th'rest'a th'busted parts on 'at door, but 'at ain't 'zactly a hurry, like." She shoves her hands into her pockets and shrugs.
"Do you think they'll want to hear from me? I suppose we'll just play it by ear?" The Overmind speaks to the Demarian. He chuckles in response to Kestrel's comment, "Probably."
"I would have you sspeak to them," Razorback says, "But as you ssay, we sshall ssee." He then turns towards Kes with a smile. "It would be nisce to have a lessss hosstile fasce therrre, but I do not want to keep you."
"Toldja, ain't 'zactly a hurry. When're ya goin'?" the Later asks, shrugging again. Kestrel fishes in a pocket and flicks a cigarette into a sight, pausing to light it. "An' where, fer 'at matter? If'n ya want, could take th'Light with. Internal hatch ain't gonna make too much nevermind 'less someone's shootin' at us, 'ey?"
Dean turns to look towards Razorback so he can answer the questions. "We'll see, then."
"We arrre meeting with them down in the Diplomatic Hub," Razorback says, then nods to Kestrel, "Thank you forrr the offerrr, though. I think we sshould get going, though." He begins to make his way towards the tradeport entrance.
"You better not be going off to talk to my people with me!" Vadim calls from the top of the Apollo's ramp, trotting his way down and in the direction of the Demarian. "Ungstiri ain't gonna listen to Demarian unless there's another of their own backing him up." he grins, lighting up the persistance cigarette that's hanging from his lips. "Tsk tsk."
Kestrel blinks. "Oh," she replies, nodding. "Hokay. Gotcha." She shrugs then. "Might catch up with ya inna bit. Wanna get a few things finished up an' suchlike. Good luck, though. Sounds like yer gonna need it." The Later grins wryly at that, and takes a drag on her cigarette. "If'n I hear a riot startin' I'll come down an' drag ya out, 'ey?"
The three are standing near Aukam's Light's cargo loading ramp. The ramp itself stands open, and the twisted remnants of an internal hatch sit nearby.
Alhambra trails along behind Vadim, looking tired, and also smoking a cigarette. "Slow down, boss," she rumbles.
Dean grins as Vadim descends the ramp, "We need you in case we get into a shouting match, no?" A chuckle, and a wink to Kestrel, "Thanks." The Overmind follows Razorback in step, on his right side. "Nervous?" He queries.
"I would not drrream of it," Razorback calls back to Vadim, grinning toothily at him. He nods to Kestrel before turning to confide to Dean. "Terrrrrrified," he says quietly.
Diplomatic Hub - Comorro Station - Comorro Station
Grown within the brownish-orange twists and turns of the station's brain, cartilagenous nodes provide space for diplomatic embassies and meeting halls within reach of the Yaralu's mind. Transparent protective webbing stretches between whale bone-like ribs. The winding paths of the hub are illuminated intermittently by flashes of blue-white from the great sentient ship's synapses.
Wed Jun 16 18:48:26 2652
Everything about the Phyrrian known as Dean looks confident and professional, but that's a lot easier to do when it's activated by built in programming. He leans in to reply quietly to Razorback, who he's able to keep in stride with, "Have comfort in the fact that no matter what happens here, this is the beginning of something great." Dean's eyes look up towards Razorback. A stern nod.
Razorback makes his way towards the front of the room, waiting as people begin to file in. He disarms, putting those items he is normally carrying. Despite his words to Dean, he gives the appearance of complete mastery of himself, his jaw set in determination. He looks to Vadim as he comes in, offering a nod. "Would you like to sspeak with them firrrsst?" he asks.
"Sorry, Al." Vadim states, helping guide her through the innards of the organic space station. "There's a lot I still have to explain to you. Suffice to say, we're trying to get all the races to work together towards an Outverser ran planet. Technically, you're an Outverser in a round about way. The problem is, Razorback believes he can play at messiah and get everyone to work together. My people, the Ungstiri, he had a our planet destroyed by Dean's people and...eh, this will take longer than a few minutes to explain. When this is over, I'll go into over a bottle of Blue Rock."
He exchanges looks between Dean and Razorback. "I hope you know what you're doing. If this fails, this is my reputation on the line. Not to mention my respect within Ungstiri circles. Basically, it'd be like a Demarian noble being outcasted, da?"
A large group of Ungstiri had been gathered. Rough looking people; miners, salvagers, drinkers. The kind of people who had been given the worst cards in life but refused to let anything bury them. The kind of people that have preserved through the centuries when other races would've crumbled into dust by now. Stepping forward, he takes the best pose he can. "Comrades! I wish to speak to the sons and daughters of Mother Ungstir! I offer you the chance to have a home of your own if you'll give just some of your time. This is why I've asked you to come."
Alhambra gives Vadim a quiet grunt of affirmation, expression still neutral; although her eyes flick frequently between the assortment of interesting entities. The Ungstiri are observed with a slow nod, one rough countenance observing many.
Dean takes his spot in the front, but both behind and off to the side of Vadim and Razor. The Phyrrian stands straight, his attention focused on Vadim as well as gauging the reaction of the crowd.
Razorback nods to Vadim before he begins speaking to the group. "I underrrsstand," he says, "And thank you forrr taking a chansce with me." He takes a position behind Vadim, waiting patiently and studying the faces before him.
"Years ago, my tovariches, my drooks, I offered us all the chance to go home again. Our home, Reslience was taken away from us for the last time. Mat Ungstir endured much and we should be thankful for what she gave us, even in the dark times that seemed to prevade our lives." Vadim begins, but still hanging onto his cigarette. "I brought many of us together and took us to Avalon. We all know that place well, it reminded us of what we had, long before the Kretonians. I, along with these two men here and others, can give that back to you. But while we are Ungstiri, we must realize that all from our former universe are not what they once were. We are building a place for all Outversers, our own planet, our own system to do live as we please. To not be ruled by Comorro or anyone else in Hiverspace. We will never have our universe back, but we can rebuild. But I cannot do by myselves. I asked you once to help me build us a home. The rifts and Kamir prevented that from happening. I'm asking you again."
Alhambra takes a long, slow drag on her own cigarette, idly letting the smoke waft from between her lips without exhaling a full breath. She watches, dark eyes serious, countenance equally so. She watches, as now, just this second night in this strange new world, history, perhaps, is being made.
The Ungstiri are, by nature, a stoic and taciturn people. As such, most remain hard-faced and silent during Vadim's speech...but a few nod when Vadim speaks of home, specifically.
Dean remains quiet, his attention solely focused on the task at hand. A small nod as Vadim speaks.
Razorback's eyes flick across the group, still keeping silent.
"Some of your skeptical. Da, I understand. More than you know. But I would not be wasting your time if I didn't believe that this could work. Some of you I remember. Everyone who had assisted in Avalon, I see your faces every night. And I am sorry for all our work, it was not in our cards. But this is real, this is tangible. I -stood- on the surface of this planet and it is beautiful. It is pure and untouched. And it is -ours-." Vadim says, doing his best to make the crowd feels how he feels. "For all Outversers." The pressure begins to build and starts to pace a bit. "But it'll be hard and there will be things that we ask that you may not want to do, and I will not ask any more of you than you wish...I..." He turns around and stands close to Dean and Razor. "I can't do this...I can't ask this of them. I can ask them to join us, but -cannot- ask them to accept Dean's people. You both ask too much." With a cavet to Dean. "Nyet offense."
Alhambra hangs back; despite the temptation to gawk at the scenery, she watches Vadim, and also watches the other two. It appears that she is both looking out for potential trouble -and- trying to puzzle out this strange miner/giant cat/cyborg politic.
"None taken," Dean responds in turn to Vadim, his eyes going towards Razorback then.
A few of the Ungstiri still nod a little, but they stop. There's a bit of murmuring amongst the crowd, "What is this really about?" one of the crowd calls.
Razorback nods to both Vadim and Dean. "I underrrsstand, my friend," he tells his former captain, then steps forward, holding up his paws to quiet the murmuring. "Thiss is about jusst what you hearrrd," he says, his voice loud at first to command the attention of the room, then growing quieter, to ensure he is being listened to, "Vadim, along with ssome otherrrs of uss, has disscoverrred a worrrld that he wisshes to brrring you to help him colonize."
He pauses for a moment, making eye contact with as many as possible in the short time span. "But therrre is morrre you sshould know. I am Razorback Cliffwalker, of the Trade Defense Fleet. Ssome of you may know orrr know of me," he says, then gestures towards Dean, "Dean herrre, has offerrred uss the assssisstansce of his people in building and defending these worrrlds. They have ssshipss of warrr that could be of immeasurrrable help to uss. Help we can ill afforrrd to turrrn down."
Another pause to let that sink in. "I know full well how many of you musst feel about the Phyrrrrrrians. I fought in the Phyrrrrrrian Warrr. I watched the Krrretonians desstrrroy all in theirrr pathss, and I fought the Nall durrring theirrr conflict with the Orrrion Arrrm. But these Phyrrrrrrians, they arrre not the ones who we fought againsst, the ones who sshed ourrr blood, and that of ourrr families."
Ren Arnassis slips into the back of the crowd where he stands, arms folded, watching, listening, a dour frown on his face.
The Ungstiri really aren't happy with this sort of suggestion, "We can defend ourselves!" one shouts at Razor, another one, with a thicker accent declares, "Nyet need Phyrrians!" There's a couple of them, however, who seem to see something in this, but most of them don't seem to agree with Razor, yet.
"Nyet!" Vadim spins on his heels. "Thinking like that is what brought around the Birthright War! Have any of you forgotten that it was -our- fault? We caused the Nall to go war with us and then the rest of the Orion Arm. Because of what we did and our self-rightous belief that we could survive anything if we were by ourselves. And remember what it brought." A pointed finger scans across the crowd. "We think we are strong enough to stand alone. How many of us are left? How many of us were left after Reslience was destroyed? We do -not- have the numbers to stand alone! We must work together. I named the planet Materi Syna is honor of all of -you-. The planet will be meant for us all, but it will have an Ungstiri name."
The Overmind looks towards the crowd, green eyes slowly moving from left to right as he observes the reaction. His expression very stoic, much like the Ungstiri people gathered. He does not yet speak.
Ren Arnassis just grunts. Whatever he thinks about this, he doesn't seem particularly impressed.
The Cliffwalker raises his paws once again, but lowers them as Vadim speaks up. The big Demarian nods gratefully to the Ungstiri, making eye contact before continuing to speak. "Ladies and gentlemen," he says, "Yourrr sspirrrit is a crrredit to yourrr sstock. And I know that brrraving the dangerrrs of thiss new worrrld will be a challenge you will meet and overrrcome. My frrriend herrre," he gestures to Dean with his tail, "Has been of immeasurrrable help to me and my people as we have ssought to keep the trrrade lanes ssafe. To keep yourrr prrrosspecting operrrations in the arrrea ssafe. I trrrusst him with my life, jusst as ssurrrely as I trrrusst Missterrr Tosstanavich."
Another pause. "You have ssufferrred much," he says, "And that ssufferrring has given you rrreserrrves of sstrrrength which you will assssurrredly call upon in the days ahead. But with that sstrrrength of mind, let uss keep the sstrrrength of hearrrt to banissh the old hatrrreds frrom ourrr minds. This worrrld will be yourrrs to build."
"Will you let yourrr childrrren and yourrr grrrandchildrrren learrrn that when given the choisce between clinging to the brrroken sshrrreds of the old worrrld and building a new one, you chose the forrrmerrr?"
"Sstand with uss," he says, his deep voice now carrying well over the crowd, "Let uss crrreate ssomething today that we can hand down to ourrr desscendantss prrroudly, and with no rrregrrretss. Acscept the gift that those who would be ourrr frrriends offerrr. Thank you."
The Ungstiri calm down considerably at Vadim's words, no more cries. They stand, arms crossed for the most part and listen to Razor. There is a long moment of silence after Razor finishes, before one Ungstiri steps forward. He looks at Razorback, before stating, "My crew will work with the Phyrrians," a pause, "Only if we have two ships for everyone of theirs whenever they are around our home, and," he looks at Dean for a moment, "We have /full/ access to schematics of Phyrrian ships, weapons, anything and everything that schematics can be made of," he states. Multiple other members of the gathering nod and murmur in agreement. The Ungstiri finally looks to Vadim, "You are right, drook, but we have endured too much to leave ourselves open,"
"Who it's meant fer an' who runs the show are two different things," Ren growls back at Razor, over the crowd.
Dean takes this moment to step up in front of the crowd, speaking loudly so they may hear, "Men and women of Ungstir...Dobry vyechyir. My name is Dean, and I represent the New Phyrrians that are working towards a brighter future here with all other Outversers. Even in these times of change and doubt, I know, as well as you, that there is a timeless truth of the Ungstiri people; something that has always stuck out, and always will; Determination. The iron will to strive and adapt to -any- situation that you are thrown into. It's this truth that forged the term 'Ungstiri tough.'...Ungstiri seel'niy. It's this truth that has ensured the survival of the Ungstiri race through all the adversity you all have endured. And this situation is no different. But these words only go so far. It is our actions that will prove our good intentions towards this cause. He looks towards the man who made the offer, "Considering this..." The Phyrrian looks around the crowd, back to Razor and Vadim, and then towards the crowd again,"We accept. The terms of that deal are fair. We have nothing to hide from our friends, our allies."
Razorback smiles toothily at Ren. "If you have a betterrr ssolution, please do attempt to purrrssue it," he says, then nods to Dean. "Well then," he says, louder to the group, "Thank you all forrr coming. We will contact you as ssoon as the colony sship arrrrrrives. In the meantime, I have an assssault to plan."
The Ungstiri nod, but they keep their distance from Dean.
Dean gives a slight bow of his head as the Ungstiri disperse. He turns then, towards Razorback, holding a hand out to shake, smile forming on his face.
Razorback shakes the proferred hand with a toothy smile, then goes to collect his weaponry for to head home. "Well," he says, "We have overrrcome ourrr firrrsst hurrrdle. We sshall have to ssee what we can do with the ssucscessss."