Drone
Hombre Sin Nombre
- Local time
- Today 9:39 AM
- Messages
- 8
Imagine this but with spaceships and lasers.
The artificial climate controller for shopping planet nine must've been set for beautiful day because that's exactly what it appeared to be. Nhils Feng descended down the steps of his ship which he had landed squarely in the enormous parking lot of a proportionally enormous building. A structure dedicated to housing hundreds upon hundreds of shops from races beyond the stars whose sole purpose had become selling kitschy nick-knacks. A testament to industry that was now completely derelict and soon to be blown to stardust to make way for shopping planet ten somewhere slightly more convenient. He had walked to edge of the parking lot and up an embankment where a glint of metal could be seen in the distance.
Through his suit's visor, Feng zoomed in slowly then held on a button on the side of his helmet, the fresh wreck of a small transport ship came into focus, the ship had been knocked out of it's autopilot during a freak meteor shower. After a moment, several small numbers appeared in front of his eyes on the visor. It would be a jaunty stroll just shy of Five Thousand meters through a terraformed wonderland of nothing. Reports say everyone ejected safely, the cargo was deemed non-essential. "Most likely food" Feng assumed in his head. Cargo didn't interest him so much as the possibility of some intact navigators or a premium piece of metal, or a few intact pieces of an engine, perhaps?. The possibility of other looters being there was low, nothing much for the common man, but a scrapper could make a stack.
Feng climbed back into his ship, a corvette class, a little dated and on the small side but still large enough to handle a crew of five. Instead it was home, each room housing a different facet of his day-to-day life even though his workshop was large enough to house him and all of his scattered belongings. No sooner had Feng stepped aboard a figure approached him from the rear of the vessel. It moved with a calculated, human-like gait as though it were imitating one. As it neared Feng the body of an incredibly old spacesuit, the once bright orange now faded and burnt came into light.
As it stepped forward into the artificial light from outside the interior of the spherical headpiece (made of a glass that, inexplicably, remained immaculate.) became visible and a human skull (that was presumably attached to a human spine.) rest comfortably in the padded helmet. "Sleepy, no." Feng started immediately upon the figure stopping, staring into the empty sockets of the skeleton within. "You have to stay here, I don't think anyone else will be there, but if they are I can't have you getting stolen or lost, plus it's a long walk. Go organize something." He chided it as though it were his child.
Sleepy is a spacesuit and the poor soul who died in it. 'His' origins are questionable but ultimately unknown. Hopefully he's the only one in existence. The suit itself has an automated movement feature and several enhancers within the suit allowing it to carry and move objects beyond most races regular strength in addition to this, 'Sleepy' can understand most basic verbal commands. The material of the suit and glass are one of a kind and made to last forever and whatever it is, it's resistant to just about everything.
Every bullet that hits it disintegrates, acid, direct and indirect heat, extreme cold, various energy based weapons, heavy objects and a handful of landmines have proven Sleepy to be indestructible. Feng tried endlessly to remove the suit from the skeleton trapped inside, however the creator clearly didn't plan on the occupant ever getting out. One of most the useful objects in the universe was in Feng's possession but the current owner literally cannot let it go and he doesn't even need it. It's main use is now for carrying heavy objects and rearranging furniture. Needless to say Sleepy is Feng's best kept secret, Sleepy is Feng's best friend.
Sleepy's only response was a mechanical raise of hand up to eye level showing off his namesake, sloppily scrawled onto the back of his glove in all likelihood by the suit's captor in a delirious state. Followed by slowly clenching each finger, one-by-one save for the middle where it remained directed at Feng and where it stayed as he turned and walked away back into the dark of the ship. He shook his head in disbelief, if the suit were hostile he'd be dead by now.
Music echoed inside Feng's helmet as he came upon the wreck of the transport ship resting peacefully after a good four hundred meter tumble to its final destination. The Hearthridge, "Who names this shit?" Feng thought aloud upon seeing the name on a relatively unscathed part of the exterior. In no time he was scaling the side of the ship to a hatch, after a few moments spent in vain attempting to pry it open Feng drew his sidearm; a large caliber single shot pistol initially designed as a multipurpose tool. The MFP's many useful shells range from homing beacons to self-welding rivets. Or in this case latch breaking slugs that peel through most doors. Someone decided it was just as good at putting holes through doors as it was living things so the gun became a popular choice for the GFM. The main and obvious drawback as a weapon is that it can only fire one round at a time, however whatever remains of who or what you just shot probably couldn't stand another one anyway.
Feng sent a slug through the latch and simply pulled it open and clambered inside. He hadn't been inside The Hearthridge for more than ten minutes, ripping expensive machinery apart for anything useful, when the sharp, rapid beeping of his ICD replaced his music. This was followed by the name 'Jufav Ambler' flashing on his visor, he was requesting a direct line. He always answered when Jufav called, often against his better judgment. Feng accepts the direct line but doesn't wait for him to talk. "It had better be good, and it better not be over a woman this time, I swear if I have to fucking carry-" Jufav cuts him off, clearly annoyed. "Yeah, I was just thinking that it had been while since we spoke too, It's so nice to hear your voice." Feng was silent for a moment "Well?" breaking the silence. "Okay, listen, there is a research base set up and they just need some hired guns and people who can survey the area y'know, maybe escort them around..." Jufav soon began to talk endlessly of the flora and fauna of the planet and still somehow managing to drop in a detail about the job every few words.
Ambler, as Feng calls him, is a peculiar and talkative man who has all of his fingers stuffed into as many different pies as he can find them in. The amount of proverbial pies Ambler's imaginary, extra fingers are in is more than he can keep track of. That is to say he knows everyone, scientists, pirates, politicians, merchants, ancient beings who have a recipe for soup so delicious you'll never taste things normally again. He is Fengs and many, many others main contact for a job, and in the never ending favor for a favor chain, Ambler supplies Nhils with work or information, always attached to said information or job prospect is something in it for Ambler.
Feng offered a few quick "mhm's" "ahh's" with a peppering of a few intrigued sounding "oh's" while Ambler carried on with his proposition. "...And that's why the Galactic Federation can't be involved, but you already knew that." Feng had only been half paying attention towards the end, it had wandered into politics and he zoned out while digging through the innards of the ship's large engine. After a few seconds of silence, Feng jumped back onto his train of thought and replied "My main concern is the others, you know I don't work with groups anymore." He began "Let alone a bunch of random ones just because you 'know' them, don't get me wrong the pay is the only reason I'd really consider this." "Well I 'know' you." was Ambler's only response. For a man who spoke unceasingly, he knew how to be concise.
"I hope you're not suggesting they come on my ship are you? You know I can't do that."
Feng said referring to the enslaved corpse in it's own automated coffin he treated like a pet. "It's fucking weird you call it Sleepy like a dog or something." palpable distaste in Jufav's voice. "That's his name." Feng responded bluntly. "Besides there's a good chance you're the only one with a rig big enough for at least four other people." Jufav said, changing the subject. "It's time to expand your horizons a bit, Feng. Even with all the others, the pay alone is worth your time." The slightest hint of desperation was detectable in his voice, whatever Ambler gets out of this had to be good for him to try and convince Feng.
"You've got one day to make your mind up, go to Nain's outpost on Kether, I'll send some dossiers over in the mean time." Ambler unceremoniously ended the call. The credits alone from the job would be enough to sell his ship and set up shop somewhere far, far away. He wouldn't have to rely on the random odd job and ripping ships apart for a living.
Working with a group of random people to do a potentially risky babysitting job was a small price to pay for a life of veritable solitude. Feng exited the Hearthridge and stood on the deck looking over towards the monolith that was once a shopping mall. A large bag on his back filled with various wires and electronic devices he had salvaged. The ship wasn't as fruitful as he hoped but what isn't a complete loss is something gained. Thinking hard for a moment, he stood still and stared into the distance already knowing he was going to do this, but at what cost?
Moments after the thought crossed his mind the strap on his bag snapped, spilling carefully coiled wire and handfuls of electrical components behind him. It was telling of his current situation and prophetic in a way, something he absolutely despised, but believed in none-the-less. Feng gathered his scrap back into his bag and simply held it in one hand. As he marched back to his ship a din of pings came from his ICD, a full write up on the planet, a handful of dossiers, and message that read 'it's worth it.'
Through his suit's visor, Feng zoomed in slowly then held on a button on the side of his helmet, the fresh wreck of a small transport ship came into focus, the ship had been knocked out of it's autopilot during a freak meteor shower. After a moment, several small numbers appeared in front of his eyes on the visor. It would be a jaunty stroll just shy of Five Thousand meters through a terraformed wonderland of nothing. Reports say everyone ejected safely, the cargo was deemed non-essential. "Most likely food" Feng assumed in his head. Cargo didn't interest him so much as the possibility of some intact navigators or a premium piece of metal, or a few intact pieces of an engine, perhaps?. The possibility of other looters being there was low, nothing much for the common man, but a scrapper could make a stack.
Feng climbed back into his ship, a corvette class, a little dated and on the small side but still large enough to handle a crew of five. Instead it was home, each room housing a different facet of his day-to-day life even though his workshop was large enough to house him and all of his scattered belongings. No sooner had Feng stepped aboard a figure approached him from the rear of the vessel. It moved with a calculated, human-like gait as though it were imitating one. As it neared Feng the body of an incredibly old spacesuit, the once bright orange now faded and burnt came into light.
As it stepped forward into the artificial light from outside the interior of the spherical headpiece (made of a glass that, inexplicably, remained immaculate.) became visible and a human skull (that was presumably attached to a human spine.) rest comfortably in the padded helmet. "Sleepy, no." Feng started immediately upon the figure stopping, staring into the empty sockets of the skeleton within. "You have to stay here, I don't think anyone else will be there, but if they are I can't have you getting stolen or lost, plus it's a long walk. Go organize something." He chided it as though it were his child.
Sleepy is a spacesuit and the poor soul who died in it. 'His' origins are questionable but ultimately unknown. Hopefully he's the only one in existence. The suit itself has an automated movement feature and several enhancers within the suit allowing it to carry and move objects beyond most races regular strength in addition to this, 'Sleepy' can understand most basic verbal commands. The material of the suit and glass are one of a kind and made to last forever and whatever it is, it's resistant to just about everything.
Every bullet that hits it disintegrates, acid, direct and indirect heat, extreme cold, various energy based weapons, heavy objects and a handful of landmines have proven Sleepy to be indestructible. Feng tried endlessly to remove the suit from the skeleton trapped inside, however the creator clearly didn't plan on the occupant ever getting out. One of most the useful objects in the universe was in Feng's possession but the current owner literally cannot let it go and he doesn't even need it. It's main use is now for carrying heavy objects and rearranging furniture. Needless to say Sleepy is Feng's best kept secret, Sleepy is Feng's best friend.
Sleepy's only response was a mechanical raise of hand up to eye level showing off his namesake, sloppily scrawled onto the back of his glove in all likelihood by the suit's captor in a delirious state. Followed by slowly clenching each finger, one-by-one save for the middle where it remained directed at Feng and where it stayed as he turned and walked away back into the dark of the ship. He shook his head in disbelief, if the suit were hostile he'd be dead by now.
Music echoed inside Feng's helmet as he came upon the wreck of the transport ship resting peacefully after a good four hundred meter tumble to its final destination. The Hearthridge, "Who names this shit?" Feng thought aloud upon seeing the name on a relatively unscathed part of the exterior. In no time he was scaling the side of the ship to a hatch, after a few moments spent in vain attempting to pry it open Feng drew his sidearm; a large caliber single shot pistol initially designed as a multipurpose tool. The MFP's many useful shells range from homing beacons to self-welding rivets. Or in this case latch breaking slugs that peel through most doors. Someone decided it was just as good at putting holes through doors as it was living things so the gun became a popular choice for the GFM. The main and obvious drawback as a weapon is that it can only fire one round at a time, however whatever remains of who or what you just shot probably couldn't stand another one anyway.
Feng sent a slug through the latch and simply pulled it open and clambered inside. He hadn't been inside The Hearthridge for more than ten minutes, ripping expensive machinery apart for anything useful, when the sharp, rapid beeping of his ICD replaced his music. This was followed by the name 'Jufav Ambler' flashing on his visor, he was requesting a direct line. He always answered when Jufav called, often against his better judgment. Feng accepts the direct line but doesn't wait for him to talk. "It had better be good, and it better not be over a woman this time, I swear if I have to fucking carry-" Jufav cuts him off, clearly annoyed. "Yeah, I was just thinking that it had been while since we spoke too, It's so nice to hear your voice." Feng was silent for a moment "Well?" breaking the silence. "Okay, listen, there is a research base set up and they just need some hired guns and people who can survey the area y'know, maybe escort them around..." Jufav soon began to talk endlessly of the flora and fauna of the planet and still somehow managing to drop in a detail about the job every few words.
Ambler, as Feng calls him, is a peculiar and talkative man who has all of his fingers stuffed into as many different pies as he can find them in. The amount of proverbial pies Ambler's imaginary, extra fingers are in is more than he can keep track of. That is to say he knows everyone, scientists, pirates, politicians, merchants, ancient beings who have a recipe for soup so delicious you'll never taste things normally again. He is Fengs and many, many others main contact for a job, and in the never ending favor for a favor chain, Ambler supplies Nhils with work or information, always attached to said information or job prospect is something in it for Ambler.
Feng offered a few quick "mhm's" "ahh's" with a peppering of a few intrigued sounding "oh's" while Ambler carried on with his proposition. "...And that's why the Galactic Federation can't be involved, but you already knew that." Feng had only been half paying attention towards the end, it had wandered into politics and he zoned out while digging through the innards of the ship's large engine. After a few seconds of silence, Feng jumped back onto his train of thought and replied "My main concern is the others, you know I don't work with groups anymore." He began "Let alone a bunch of random ones just because you 'know' them, don't get me wrong the pay is the only reason I'd really consider this." "Well I 'know' you." was Ambler's only response. For a man who spoke unceasingly, he knew how to be concise.
"I hope you're not suggesting they come on my ship are you? You know I can't do that."
Feng said referring to the enslaved corpse in it's own automated coffin he treated like a pet. "It's fucking weird you call it Sleepy like a dog or something." palpable distaste in Jufav's voice. "That's his name." Feng responded bluntly. "Besides there's a good chance you're the only one with a rig big enough for at least four other people." Jufav said, changing the subject. "It's time to expand your horizons a bit, Feng. Even with all the others, the pay alone is worth your time." The slightest hint of desperation was detectable in his voice, whatever Ambler gets out of this had to be good for him to try and convince Feng.
"You've got one day to make your mind up, go to Nain's outpost on Kether, I'll send some dossiers over in the mean time." Ambler unceremoniously ended the call. The credits alone from the job would be enough to sell his ship and set up shop somewhere far, far away. He wouldn't have to rely on the random odd job and ripping ships apart for a living.
Working with a group of random people to do a potentially risky babysitting job was a small price to pay for a life of veritable solitude. Feng exited the Hearthridge and stood on the deck looking over towards the monolith that was once a shopping mall. A large bag on his back filled with various wires and electronic devices he had salvaged. The ship wasn't as fruitful as he hoped but what isn't a complete loss is something gained. Thinking hard for a moment, he stood still and stared into the distance already knowing he was going to do this, but at what cost?
Moments after the thought crossed his mind the strap on his bag snapped, spilling carefully coiled wire and handfuls of electrical components behind him. It was telling of his current situation and prophetic in a way, something he absolutely despised, but believed in none-the-less. Feng gathered his scrap back into his bag and simply held it in one hand. As he marched back to his ship a din of pings came from his ICD, a full write up on the planet, a handful of dossiers, and message that read 'it's worth it.'
The year is 3084.
Human and Alien life of all shapes and sizes coexist (for the most part) with one another. Planets rich with resources or prime for settlement are being discovered frequently. The universe is waiting and with it comes the best and worst of folk from across the stars. Anyone looking to get their hands dirty one way or another is sure to make or find it on their own.
The Galactic Federation serves as the largest governing body and military, ubiquitous in presence across the systems they maintain order as best as one can given their 'territory'. A nearly two year war raged on the planet Maas that ended about two years ago. Now commonly known as the Maasian conflict, the war began over the mineral Talerite, which the planet was rich with.
The Stavros mining company upset the local inhabitants of the planet, exactly how is still up for debate. When the Galactic federation stepped in to mollify the situation the local Maasians took it as an act of aggression and a foolish, protracted battle ensued. The end result was a torn planet with heaps of Talerite that would remain untouched to outsiders and hundreds of thousands of angry Maasians.
Immediately following the war, the Galactic Federation put heavy restrictions on mining and resource gathering of any kind. To avoid a slew of paperwork and fees, companies began quietly sending groups to survey planets or illegally set up small scale facilities in an attempt to mitigate or completely avoid the Galactic Federations involvement.
You and a handful of others will be one of the lucky few to assist a small group of scientists and researchers in their not so legal activity on the surface of a planet in the far reaches of a cold sector. Who you are, what you do, where you're from and why you're taking the job is entirely up to you.
Human and Alien life of all shapes and sizes coexist (for the most part) with one another. Planets rich with resources or prime for settlement are being discovered frequently. The universe is waiting and with it comes the best and worst of folk from across the stars. Anyone looking to get their hands dirty one way or another is sure to make or find it on their own.
The Galactic Federation serves as the largest governing body and military, ubiquitous in presence across the systems they maintain order as best as one can given their 'territory'. A nearly two year war raged on the planet Maas that ended about two years ago. Now commonly known as the Maasian conflict, the war began over the mineral Talerite, which the planet was rich with.
The Stavros mining company upset the local inhabitants of the planet, exactly how is still up for debate. When the Galactic federation stepped in to mollify the situation the local Maasians took it as an act of aggression and a foolish, protracted battle ensued. The end result was a torn planet with heaps of Talerite that would remain untouched to outsiders and hundreds of thousands of angry Maasians.
Immediately following the war, the Galactic Federation put heavy restrictions on mining and resource gathering of any kind. To avoid a slew of paperwork and fees, companies began quietly sending groups to survey planets or illegally set up small scale facilities in an attempt to mitigate or completely avoid the Galactic Federations involvement.
You and a handful of others will be one of the lucky few to assist a small group of scientists and researchers in their not so legal activity on the surface of a planet in the far reaches of a cold sector. Who you are, what you do, where you're from and why you're taking the job is entirely up to you.
Technology has advanced considerably, ships that can travel from planet to planet in mere hours depending on distance. Everyday electronics, vehicles and other amenities are much more efficient. Prosthetic limbs, organs and other bodily enhancements or replacements are fairly common.
Nearly everyone has an ICD ( Identification and Communication Device. Think glorified sci-fi cell phone.) which may be integrated into a handheld device, on the wrist or however one chooses.
All Firearms utilize either case-less ammunition or fire projectiles via an electrical rail device. Recoil for the most part has become a thing of the past.
The prior being made of a mineral called Talerite that is incredibly abundant throughout the system and is painfully easy to mass produce munitions with.
That being said, personal energy-based weapons do exist but are not nearly as common as handheld versions of such are incredibly unwieldy or have a limited lifespan due to the amount sheer energy being produced. Energy based weapons are regularly found on starships or mounted on to space stations for self defense.
Stars are the limit as far a technology goes, if you think it might be too much or are unsure just ask.
Nearly everyone has an ICD ( Identification and Communication Device. Think glorified sci-fi cell phone.) which may be integrated into a handheld device, on the wrist or however one chooses.
All Firearms utilize either case-less ammunition or fire projectiles via an electrical rail device. Recoil for the most part has become a thing of the past.
The prior being made of a mineral called Talerite that is incredibly abundant throughout the system and is painfully easy to mass produce munitions with.
That being said, personal energy-based weapons do exist but are not nearly as common as handheld versions of such are incredibly unwieldy or have a limited lifespan due to the amount sheer energy being produced. Energy based weapons are regularly found on starships or mounted on to space stations for self defense.
Stars are the limit as far a technology goes, if you think it might be too much or are unsure just ask.
-Character Dossier-
[Insert picture/face/whatever of character here]
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race(Plus Description):
Occupation:
Equipment/Personal effects:
Description:
Brief History:
Other(Any fine details you'd like to add, this field is not required.):
[Insert picture/face/whatever of character here]
Name:
Age:
Gender:
Race(Plus Description):
Occupation:
Equipment/Personal effects:
Description:
Brief History:
Other(Any fine details you'd like to add, this field is not required.):
Tucked into all of those spoilers should be everything you need to know but the basic gist of this RP will be to allow some indulgent Sci-Fi space opera fun. I encourage you to make up your own races, planets, technology and everything in between to really flesh out this universe all within reason of course. There is sure to be much excitement/fear/laughter/sorrow and plenty of punching, shooting, running, screaming and illicit activities.
I have a wonderful initial plot in mind and provided this gets enough traction and stays running I'd like to take input from others for ideas or character arcs. I'm looking for 4 more people total for this trip into space where the story begins where my intro ends. Feel free to ask any questions or throw out ideas. Feel free to be as detailed as you like in your character sheet. You don't have to tell us everything I'd prefer the nitty gritty of each character to come out on its own.
As far as post length and rules go I'm not expecting nor do I want a novel to be written for each reply, a paragraph or so at minimum would be ideal, but feel free to get into it when needed. Obviously no Mary Sues, outlandish abilities/weapons etc. I'd like to attempt to find a balance between Sci-Fi and reality so feel free to get crazy but keep it somewhat grounded as always if it seems like too much, just ask.
