Firefly RP - 'Exodus'

[The Lyre]

Spoiler: Speeding things up again / Qayin being grumpy

I'm giving the rest (i.e., everyone but Mshcher) a few more hours to post, then I'm just continuing on - you will not be puppeted along. In fact, it will be assumed you didn't do your job as asked by the Captain, and there will be some big repurcussions for this - consequences I won't mention for obvious plot-related reasons, but if you don't do your job, then you're steps closer to getting yourself killed.

Let me clarify that - if you don't at least try to do your job, we lose efficiency with whatever we're doing, meaning we lose time on our mission; if you lose too much time in the next part, you'll find yourself most likely dead, or at least missing bits of you.

Follow Mshcher's example - I've deliberately given people fairly piss-poor jobs, because that isn't the point of this round; you've been condemned to what is probably certain death, people, and your Captain has just gone Einstein on you. If you have nothing to post about in regards to that, you're in the wrong RP.

For now, here's a quick post;

"No."

"...what?"

"I know it sounds like the right idea, G, but it's not - if we cut the hydraulics to swing them round, we wouldn't be able to get 'em back round in case we need to land. We're nearly out of the Rim, by now...we're going out there whether we like it or not, and this kind of maneuver would only slow us down a little. We just couldn't deal with the damage it could cause, G."

"Then why ask me to slow us down?!"

"We're probably all going to die out here, I just didn't want people to be thinking about that."

Captain Abel rose from his seat in the Dining Room, and left Ganesha there. He crossed the Front Hall into the Bridge, to find the pilot not working, but sleeping.

He struck him not too lightly around the back of his head, at which point Iggknight snorted, bent forward into the NavSat and yelled in surprise;

"I'm on it, I'm on it!...Oh."

"Oh, what, jackass?"

"We passed out of the Rim...an hour and a half ago, and we're outta fuel."

Abel tapped his holster in frustration. "Then why does the NavSat show that we're still moving?"

The pilot spent another few moments considering it, and replied.

"We're moving, but barely - normally I'd say inertia from the thrust, but we're moving sideways."

"...Gravity?"

"Well, yeah, must be, but...what the hell is out here? We're outside the Rim!"

Abel quietly slid his hand into his holster, gripping the end of the weapon within.

"We'll just have to find out, I suppose."

He lightly pressed what appeared to be an incredibly chunky revolver to the back of the pilot's neck - known as an Avenger, to some, mostly known for having the power to take a man's face off without making a sound.

"If I ever find you risking the lives of my crew again, by sleeping or otherwise, you and I are going to have 'words'. There are four other people on this boat, and we will not die on account of your complacency. Time, is, essential."

The Captain holstered his weapon, turned on his heel, and left the Bridge. He was not a happy sailor.

Spoiler: Sorry to use you as an example

But there's only 5 of us - I have to keep you posting regular to keep this thing going. Mshcher is currently incredibly busy with work, yet she's managing a good post daily.

Oh, and no, repurcussions does not mean the Captain will shoot you, you're going to die in a lot more of a degrading, horrific, painful way if you mess up completely in the next part.

Okay, few more hours for everyone to post, then tonight I'll be updating.

 

[Brett Alex]

"Dibs on the inventory!"
The two mercenaries had been left in the kitchen/dining hall.

Now why's old Abel always groupin' us together? Can't he see that we are nothing alike? Look at him, he's all... guns and... killing stuff.

Hell, I ain't even really a mercenary, I don't qualify, heh, didn't serve in the war.
He paused mist step towards the storage cupboards "Nothin' personal,"
Putting on his 'sad childhood memory face' bottom lip beginning to quiver, "Jus' always wann'ed to be a merchant, like me dad," he took the step, then paused again, as if realising the situation they were in. "That is okay with you right?"

Crippen snorted with derision. "Knock yourself out. Just try not to rub too much of it into your hair, okay?"

And what was with the Captain going all genius on us? I ain't seen none of that stuff for years, not since back at the Collegium anyway. Course that was a long time ago. Heh, never thought I'd stuck heading into the deep black back at the Collegium.

The second of seriousness could have almost be imagined, "Aww, but thats half the fun!"
As he began unpacking slabs of protein he turned to face Crippen, feeling further explanation was needed.

He held up his hands "Besides, I ain't great with wires an' the like, its me fingers, need 'em for sketchin' n' writin', y'know?"

Crippen smiles wryly, and bows mockingly. "Well by all means, far be it for me to place undue strain on an artiste's digits. I'll attend to the wiring, then. I'll just have to make sure I'm wearing boots with thick rubber soles..."

Realisng the man probably thinks he is now useless and careless, Shanks sighs, "Tzao-gao... hey, uh, Crippen... do you think we really are stuffed?"

"Stuffed? Yes. Like the work of an over-enthusiastic taxidermist. Might as well make our last moments busy though. I'd hate to die bored, after all."

Now I could ask him how he knows what a taxidermist is, but that would show that I know what one is. Gorramit, who would've guessed traveling the black would be so difficult.

On the bright side, providing that.. odd engineer, the captain, or Iggknight don't come up with a solution then I'll get to travel it for the rest of my life... and we'll know how much food we have. Enriko smiled to himself.

 

[Xhumed]

Adam Crippen walked away from Shanks, thinking.

Thinking about the interview he'd had with the Captain the day previous.


"So what skills do you think you have that you could bring to my crew?"
Crippen paused. Cocked his head to one side and regarded the man in front of him for a beat.

"Well, I could slit your throat from here before your hand had even touched that gun on your hip."

"...That's a good skill. Uh...welcome aboard. Pay is standard, 7 per cent."

"Did I mention I can slit your throat from here before-"

"Did I say 7? I meant 10. Pardon, mind must have been wandering. I'll add negotiating to your skill list too..."


Now he was stuck in this flying metal coffin, probably about to die.

Should have pressed for 13 he thought.

He found Ganesha and spoke to the mechanic gravely.
"What can I do to help? Freezing to death isn't exactly my idea of an enjoyable evening. Captain said something about the wiring."

He had no idea what him fiddling with the wiring would achieve at this point- they were royally humped. He cursed to himself as he realised he was still in his pyjamas and socks.

I'll just have to be really careful not to frazzle myself.

Crippen rubbed his eyes sleepily. Black rings testified to his lack of sleep recently.
Coupled with his pale skin, courtesy of a nocturnal life-style, he probably looked half-dead.

Least I'll have a head-start on the rest of them, I suppose. Gāi sǐ!

Crippen was not at all happy about the prospect of his impending death. Not happy at all.

 

[Khedive Rex]

Spoiler: Disregard this post

Sorry, but I figured since this has fallen to the third page a new post would be better than just an edit of this one.

And again, I am infinitely sorry I haven't done this sooner. Debate tournaments are torture.

 

[The Lyre]

Spoiler: Watch this space.

As soon as Rex has fixed his awesome but unnecessary plan, I'll move us off the Malo for the time being.

The 'search mechanic' of this new location isn't complicated - you either PM me your intention/objective/desired destination, or put it into a nice post, and I'll PM you what you see and find.

However, as I said before, make smart, efficient choices, and you're guaranteed to keep your face intact - make stupid or just plain bad choices, you may find yourself utterly owned.

 

[Khedive Rex]

Spoiler: One more down

Please forgive my intended double post but this RP really need to get woken up and I feel like its at least partially my fault it's been napping.

 

[Khedive Rex]

Bartelby started in his chair. "So I was sleeping. No need to threaten execution. It's not like I can do much else in the state the Malo's in ... Actually, he should be thanking me I haven't found something else to do. Drifting is boring. I don't handle boredom well."

Bartelby considered it for a moment. Why wasn't he even now roaming the halls looking for some other form of recreation? He could have been bothering his crew mates. He could have been searching for hidey-holes. He could have been blowing stuff up superflously. This was very ...

Odd.

Bartelby looked out into the blank nothing of space. The regions of the galaxy no one had ever visited. A white spot on the map of reality. A brand new world.

Perhaps it was the sense of adventure that kept him rooted to his seat. He wasn't a pilot now, he was an explorer. Now future generations had a reason to remember him. Now he was special! "The First Past The Rim - an Autobiographical Account of the Amazing Adventures of Bartelby Iggknight." ... he thought about the title a moment. "Volume 1 ... of 17"

Yes, that was it. Out here in the wilds of space where no man had tread he was not just a simple man. He was a legend. The first.

Bartelby looked out at the beautiful emptiness of it all with a new warmth radiating through him. He felt ... content.

And then he saw what was drawing the ship in. It could only be described as a GIGANTIC SPACE GALLEON!!!" It was the biggest ship Bartelby had ever seen! It could house thousands of families and still have room for a pool! It was a habitation ship the emmencity of which was unchallenged in the ranks of ships Bartelby had piloted or even fled from.

"...Oh. A colony of people. Living outside the Rim..." Bartelby imagined violently tearing apart his biography and burning the pieces. He slumped grumpily back in his pilot's chair, and looked out at space. "Boring. Fucking. Emptiness."

"Hey captian. There's some sort of ship drawing us in. It's probably the source of the gravity. I can dock with it but no gaurantees that whoever or whatever is in there is friendly."

"Oh, and can I take a 10 minute leave of absence to cause general havock on the ship? I promise, it will improve my performance. It's important I not get lax at an historic first encounter, right?"

 

[mshcherbatskaya]

I'm head and shoulders into the cargo bay door controls when I hear one of 'em come up on me, quiet-like. First I thought he was sneakin' but then I peaked out and seen Crippen in his jammies. Well put-together fellow, gotta say, not a side of beef like some of 'em.

"What can I do to help? Freezing to death isn't exactly my idea of an enjoyable evening. Captain said something about the wiring." Captain might well say something about it, since there ain't but a meter of it without a burnout anywhere on this ship.

Why does the captain always want me to babysit the aristo, huh? Answer me that. He think I actually got a use for him? He think I got a use for anyone back here but a clone of my own self? If he wants this fella out of the way, he should just send him back to his bunk to polish his gun.

"Captain says a lot of things. I don't listen to 'em, neither should you." I tried ignoring him for a bit but he just hung around so I figure maybe I'll try something, so I threw this skinny bit of wire on the floor, hardly bigger than a hair.

"Pick that up," I told him. Usually they end up pinchin' and pinchin', trying to get it off the floor. He tried once, then turned and kinda pinched it t'other way so it popped up in the middle. Smart. So I threw this flat little control processor down, about as big as my pinky finger-nail and hardly any thicker than the wire.

"Pick that up." Usually they try usin' their fingernails on that one, if they got'em. You'd be surprised how many of these gun-humpers bite their nails down to the quick. Nervous, y'know, for all they act tough. And he tries it with his nails, but it's too small and he can't. So he sort of studies it for a sec, then he licks his thumb and presses it down on the chip so it kinda sticks and picks it up that way, which is as neat a trick as I ever seen. I always use my nails for the damn things and they ain't easy for me but I got the small hands.

"You're pretty handy with your mitts, ain'cha?" I says, and I toss down a bolt, nothing special, just small is all. "Pick that up." Then I followed up with a nut, couple a washers, resistor coil, til he finally figures I'm messin' with him. Then he just gives me this look like I'm exercisin' his patience, which I am, but he doesn't say anything.

Well, I stare him right back, cuz it ain't my fault he didn't clue up quicker, and pretty soon I can see his mouth twitching in the corner. Then I catch the twitch, an' we go from staring contest to not-smiling contest, and I don't even know why 'cept we were both tired and things strike you funny when you are tired just right. Then it goes from not-smiling to not-laughing and I win that one out of sheer cussedness, because it was funny as anything to see his color come up and him do that kinda backwards hiccupy thing like people do, y'know, and finally the laugh pops out of him like a sneeze.

"All right, you win," he says. Damn right I do.

I figure he's all right, so I ask him, "You know how to use a soldering iron?"

"I'm pretty sure I know which end to hold," he says.

"Well, that makes you smarter than everyone else on this ship 'cept me," I says. "You wanna make yourself useful, come over here and let me show you something."

No, I don't really need or want the help, not much anyway, but I figure it like this. Either he's a good fella to have around and I'll find a use for him, or those handy mitts of his been the ones messin' with my ship, in which case I keep him close to stop him or to catch him at it, one way or t'other.

We'll see which it is. We'll see.

 

[The Lyre]

Spoiler: Sorry

I'd actually, er...forgotten this existed...

Back on track, not to worry.

Once again, the crew stood at the Bridge of the Malo, staring out at the ever growing...giant space ship - a craft that made Alliance cruisers seem on the small side. The sheer size of it gave away what it was - there'd only been one type of ship designed to carry that many people, and they rocketed out of Earth-That-Was.

Someone behind the Captain got it in one,

"It's an Ark?"

Abel didn't turn, unable to take his eyes off the massive construction - a mechanical symbol of ancient history, but he did respond.

"Yup, an Ark...an Ark, outside of...the Rim."

"...Why?"

Abel finally prised his eyes from the Ark and turned back to his crew.

"Well, after the Exodus of Earth, plenty of these here Arks didn't make it; life supports failed, engines failed, fuel ran out - thousands condemned to death by a mechanical failure. Of course, that doesn't explain why the Ark is out here...when none of them ever went further than the Border worlds, let alone the Rim."

He pondered for a moment, hands in his pockets, as usual, and continued.

"I, for one, am not going to question salvation being thrust in front of me - that thing is bound to have at least a handful of grav dampeners, and I imagine many of 'em will still be working just fine. Might be difficult getting fuel over...providing it has any. Hell, as long as we can fix Malo up, feel free to grab anything you can - you're looking at a ship that's bound to contain tons of artifacts from Earth-That-Was, enough to make us very...very rich...

Suit up, gear up, and make sure you know what you're gonna be lookin' for - in a few hours, we're getting on that Ark."

Spoiler: How this is going to work

Basically, PM me what you want to do on this Ark - what you're looking for, be it priceless artifacts or ship parts, you need to give me a specific priority of yours.

I will respond with the relevant information - what you see, what you find, and you turn it into a post.

First person to PM will also be given the description of boarding the Ark.

Oh, and try to not to fuck up - unless you've been lobotomized recently you should realise there's something wrong with a giant, massive ship outside known space.

 

[Xhumed]

Crippen was first into the airlock, suited up and strapping on two automatic pistols and his combat knife, after changing out of his rather fetching pyjamas.

His work with Ganesha had been... instructive. His lack of knowledge was made up for by the fact he was a quick study, and picked up quickly how it all worked. He couldn't tell if the mechanic was impressed or not, but in any case they seemed to be warming to him a little.

His progress onto the ship was cautious- a ship this far out on the Rim could be crawling with Reavers, after all.

The cargo-bay doors had sparked a little as they'd opened, but they hadn't exploded, which is what he been half expecting. Guess we managed to fix enough of the wiring after all. He felt a little less weary after having a laugh with the mechanic- Ganesha was the only one on the crew who didn't seem to have a terminal case of space dementia.

Gun in hand, he entered the strange ship.

The Ark was dark and cold. The lights were off, as was everything except life support, according to the scans. Slowly, Crippen removed his helmet. Almost immediately, his nostrils were assailed by the most nauseating odour he'd had the misfortune to inhale. Struggling not to vomit, he leaned against a bulkhead until he acclimatised to the stink. The smell was strangely familiar, yet he couldn't place it.

The cargo bay he'd entered was huge, almost like a cathedral in size. Moving to the nearest exit, he stuck his head quickly into the dark corridor beyond and snatched it back. His brief glimpse showed nothing in the corridor. It was barren.
Moving stealthily down the corridor, he noted there were no signs of...well, anything. It was silent and lifeless as the grave.

He immediately wished he hadn't made that analogy.

He saw a sign on the wall of the corridor which read "Armoury #7." Thrilled at the prospect of new toys, he resolved to check it out later- at least 7 armouries on board would mean plenty of playthings.

He radio'd the others, "It would appear to be clear over here, this section at least. No signs of life. Air's breathable." He grinned to himself mischievously as he neglected to mention the stench.

Moving on, he found signs for crew quarters. Hoping to find some information, and possibly a bit of interesting booty, Crippen headed for that section, keeping his guns handy- just in case...

 

[Brett Alex]

Space wasn't right. It was fine to hear about, fine to watch from the ground, hell even fine to fly through. But a space-walk... well that was just gorram creepy.

When your flying, your safe. You can run and hide. I wasn't minding being stuck in the black on the Malo, but imagine being stuck having to walk it?
Nothings meant to to be that quiet anyway. Massive engines blasting away, but you still don't hear anything from them to your own footfalls.

Shanks was so very glad that no one, especially him, had to take a space-walk. He could have kissed Iggknight, and maybe shaken the mechanics hand for their part in the successful docking.
Guess bein' handy with duct tape is useful if you don't wanna step into the black.

Reavers came from the black..

Crippen had been first across, and informed them of the functioning life support.

"Aww gorramit! You mean to say I got this fancy costume for nothin'? But I was so lookin' forward to testin' it out!" Bartelbly might have sniggered, but everyone else ignored Shanks as he removed his helmet. He left the suit on regardless, he didn't want to waste any time removing it.

It's also not right that one of these things still has life support and no life. Its common knowledge not all of them worked, but it was mechanical faults that let them down. I don't think I ever heard about one that went dark and still had life support working. Better be quick then. Shanks clenched the small data storage packet.

Whoever said information is power, got it exactly right.

The massive ship actually looked better maintained than the Malo, but it had an overwhelming sense of... abandonment. The cargo bay stunk, Shanks was tempted to but the helmet back on. After gagging for a bit, he lost sight of the others, presumably they'd gone off to occupy themselves, stench or no stench.

Easy to read signs directed him to the Bridge. He couldn't shake his feelings of uneasiness as he walked though.

Well at least it can't be Reavers, Reavers would'a made a big mess... right? Unless, 'course they huddled everyone into somewhere else and left it clean to trick travelers into coming aboard thinking it was safe...

He began to shudder involuntarily, falling against the corridor wall.

Can't think like that. You know it only makes it worse. You keep going down this path and you'll start with the memories.

Pulling himself together, Shanks pushed on.
He heard noise coming from inside the bridge.
Good 'ol Captain, figuring out what happened to these poor folk. He almost stepped through the doorway, but caution told him to wait. He peered around the edge of the metal frame.

Only three out of the many, MANY terminals still looked to function - the Captain seemed to be using all three.

One depicts a diagnostic of the Ark.

Another shows the schematics of the Ark.

And the other... well the other.

Abel, you sneaky bastard

 

[Khedive Rex]

Bartelby wandered the halls of the Arch taking in all that he could. The smell, the look of the hallways, the smell, the absence of people, the smell, the smell, the smell!

?GET ME OUT OF HERE!!!? he thought.

It was horrible, just ? well, horrible. But Bartelby couldn?t leave. He had a purpose. striding the halls with a sense of commitment, Bartelby made a left, a left, a right; he was standing in front of the door of the command center. The beating heart of the Arch. All he needed was a couple of seconds alone.

And then he heard Abel. And Diego.

??Fuck? Scratch that plan. What now??

Bartelby looked around him as well as he could with his nose buried in the joint of his arm. His eyes watered slightly, blurring his vision and making the Arch look that much more odd.

There was only one thing on his mind, ?What could have happened here??

Before Bartelby knew what was happening his feet were compelling him forward. He walked half way around the ship with conviction. He would find out.

Doors opened automatically in front of him and he marched into the medical ward. It didn?t smell quite as bad here, which was good, but Bartelby didn?t pay much attention to the aesthetics. He was here for the computer. He was here for the truth.

Bartelby started up the medical ward master computer and searched the files. It didn?t register any life signs on board besides the crew. Bartelby nodded, a survivor would have made this much easier but he wasn?t expecting one. The computer indicated that the air support systems work and have always worked since the launch of this Arch. This surprised Bartelby, that smell wasn?t normal. He pulled up a detailed report and found that the air support systems including an additional unidentified system. It was working perfectly but it was impossible to tell at what.

Bartelby looked up from the computer for a moment and smelled the air deeply. He then pushed himself up off the ground and back into a standing position. Something was very wrong here.

He brought up the medical histories on the computer. It said that no medical supplies had been used in quite a while and when Bartelby checked the cabinets themselves they were all full.

?You don?t leave without medicine.? Bartelby thought ?That?s the first thing they teach you in the military. You take as much food as you can store and more medicine than could ever be necessary.?
Bartelby checked the computer again, this time for the statis of the escape pods. None had been launched.

?What does that mean?? Bartelby said below his breath. ?They didn?t try to escape. Escape from what? It wasn?t biological, they would have used the medicine. It wasn?t enemy soldiers, the wounded would have been treated here which, again, would mean medicine. And if the life support isn?t damaged then nothing was trying to destroy the Arch.?

?It?s like everyone just fell down and died. At the same time. For no reason.?

Bartelby looked around him and barely noticed the smell anymore. He was frustrated. This trip hadn?t helped as much as he had thought, all it had done was feed his curiosity. He was becoming obsessed. ?People don?t just die for no reason!?

?? Fine. If it wants to be difficult about it, I can play difficult. Every puzzle has an answer and god dammit, no puzzles better than me.?

 

[The Lyre]

Spoiler: It lives!

As it seems that people actually liked this RP, I'm bringing it back, as well as a new project next weekend - according to Wilson there is no 1 customer, 1 RP rule, so I see no reason to not revive this.

I am, however, unable to remember what goodies there were on this ship. Therefore, I am speeding this up.

Everyone...I say everyone, I mean you four people, have a couple days to give me what you wish to explore next, and then the shit will hitteth the fan of ye olde doom.

I'm also going to line up something exciting, in the form of villains...I mean, more villains than previously planned.

If you're reading this, and are not in the RP;

-Are you able to write consistently to a high standard?

-Are you interested in playing a villain, perhaps for the first time on the Escapist?

-Do you think I'm awesome?

If you answered with a confident 'yes!' to all of the above, then PM me with your ideas, and I'll more than probably arrange for you to have a role in the future.

That is, before the inevitable climax, in which all of our secret agendas clash, and things get truly epic.

Spoiler: Additional, more gloomy note

If not everyone can come back, and no one else wants in, this will most likely die a permanant death, instead of the temporary one it suffered recently.

Don't worry, I'm not going to personally blame anyone for not being able to make it, just a heads-up to anyone hopeful...if there is anyone, that is.

Spoiler: Even gloomier note

One of the players will not be able to make it - if no one else expresses interest in joining, then this is dead.

Only person I have to blame is me - I created an RP I had no hope of easily running, with all the secret missions, sub-plots within individual plots within the overall, arcing plots.

Sorry if this dies, but I can promise that my next project won't be a collosal failure, like with my previous two...but those weren't really my fault.

This one is much easier to GM...I'll get it right this time.

...

I'm a failure.