Episode Three: Charitable Endeavors

Started by HumanHyperbole, July 06, 2020, 10:04:36 pm

William Breene

August 29, 2020, 01:18:48 pm #20 Last Edit: August 29, 2020, 03:08:38 pm by HumanHyperbole
Willy smiled at Melody's threat of booty-trapping his toilet. The fact that she was now just jokingly threatening him whilst thrusting a bottle of pain killers into his bare chest was definitely an improvement. It was only a matter of time before she was flirting back (in his estimation). Wait... Now Breene remembered why she punched him last night. He laughed at the memory, not her threat of toilet traps.

But duty called, and the crew was more or less assembled. They needed a briefing from the man in his boxers.

"All right uhhh... "

The eldest of a gaggle of William Breenes popped the pain killer in his mouth, then bent over backwards slightly, putting his head under the sink, and running it directly into his mouth. He gulped down about a liter of water and bent back forward, splashing water off his face, then gave himself a quick slap to the face.

"Okay!"

Breene saw his cortex unit was sitting out on the table from the night before. He did a quick little fist pump then scooped it up tapping in a few names. Their hungover guest then put the device into projection mode and blasted the faces of two men onto the nearby wall. The two images switched into short clips that looped. One would turn out to be much more recent than the other.

"My generous hosts, meet our clients. Doctor Ricardo August and his just absolute pistol of an assistant: Alan. I uhh don't know his last name. Anyway, Doctor August is some kinda big shit physicist who used to work in the core. That's the only photo I have from when he used to help make weapons for the feds. Anyway long story short, he expanded his mind a little and couldn't quite fit in with the squares anymore. Now he's working for a Community College on Dangun, and thinks he's perfected some sort of spacial mapping program. To run those big numbers he just so happens to need the kind of advanced chip the Purple Bellies put on their inter-planetary fission weapons. The technology that destroyed Shadow might save lives. Finding micro-meteor fields or even the big boys that can wipe out entire colonies. It could lay out new shipping routes and save a lot of mom and pop spacers time, money and possibly their own asses.  It's not sexy, or decent coin for our effort, but we might be able to salvage something good from all the murder and betrayal."

While the fact that he had to mutiny against his own crew was the reason half of them were reluctant to trust him, if he hadn't, dozens of these chips would have ended up in the hands of whoever was crazy enough to hire the Russos. Speaking of whom...

HumanHyperbole

August 29, 2020, 01:57:35 pm #21 Last Edit: August 29, 2020, 03:06:43 pm by HumanHyperbole
After Breene delivered his briefing, he put some clothes on at the insistence of the captain and her restrictive ideas of what business casual was. Then he took over the flight controls to relieve Izak and the auto-pilot, giving the former military man the run-down on the job on his way out. Melody quickly found out he was behind the wheel and promptly kicked him out of the pilot's seat with a smack to the back of the head, relegating him to navigating at the co-pilot's chair. They were already close to Dangun orbit, Breene guided the Revenge down into atmosphere and flew them over hundreds of miles of mountains until they arrived at a valley in the midst of the mountains. Almost perfectly in the middle was a modest two story building that looked closest to a hunting lodge, surrounded by dozens satellite arrays.

There was nothing around the lodge for miles. Just the mountains range surrounding, dotted with trees and visually impenetrable forest. It was a great place to get line of sight on the stars. But it was out in the open and exposed. The bon-fire Ricardo started was visible from miles out. His silhouette illuminated against the desolate valley like a towering kaiju as he danced around the fire. It was around three in the morning local time. But stargazers are night owls. At least that was the first excuse that would spring to mind.

There were a couple key details Breene didn't have to share with the crew of the Revenge. But anyone watching those mountains they passed over would have noticed more than a few other smoke trails from camp fires all over the mountain range. While Dangun was considered the ragged edge of the frontier in many ways, it would seem that these hills had become home to many of those that sought the freedom to settle their own land, practice their faith in their own ways, or maybe escape the law.

The Revenge settled in for a smooth landing a couple hundred yards away from the small home. Still close enough for the air rushing from her engines to put out his bon-fire. Their customer, clad only in a loin cloth, a fiber optic head-dress, and a crap load of self applied face paint, Ricardo August, ran up the ramp of the Revenge as the crew gathered to depart.

"You're early Breene! I needed to finish the ritual before we run the algorithm!"

He slammed his "shaman stick" down onto the steel to emphasize his point. His pupils were dilated, and he was sporting at least five days of stubble. Alan meanwhile jogged up behind him, panting slightly, still in his pajamas.

"Sorry! Whoo! No, Doctor. Do you remember our conversation from last night?"

Ricardo shot him a look with his seemingly now giant eyes.

"Right. He was high. You guys must be the Revenge! Please tell me you were able to get the chips."

Alan was polite but straight to the point. And also seemed to be expecting MULTIPLE of the guidance chips their guest blew up on the Atkinson.

Holger Heyerdahl

Born with ice and rock beneath his feet, a day's work always at hand, the drift and aimlessness of space never suited Holger. Of course, he was a practical sort and knew that one couldn't do the sort of thing he did best and stay planetside. Sure, there were local thugs and would-be crime bosses on every rock in every system. But despite the climate, the heat would always catch up to someone. So ships were a necessary inconvenience. And he was used to it. One didn't travel the 'verse without becoming accustomed to the ebbs and flows of space. Still, Holger was eager to get back where a man belonged.

So, he waited nearly at the door, anxious for it to open and to birth him to the described grasses and trees that awaited them at Dangun. Holger had no idea what waited for him, and his jaw dropped in joy at what he found.

A bonfire. Primal, fiercely red, and taller than an average man's head; in other words, it was nearly Holger's twin. He could scarcely take that in when a nightmare come to life appeared from the darkness. Holger readied for a fight, but quickly learned that the handsome William Breene was friends with the creature and, therefore, it must be a friend. Shorter still after this realization, it was revealed that this was, in fact, their contact.

Holger admired the man's stick as it struck the Revenge's deck. "Hello." He said. His blue eyes reflected the fire outside as it called for him. "Goodbye." He said, before running for the display, his shirt flying over his head as a beastial yalp escaped his bearded mouth.
Dialogue Color - Orange

Melody

September 11, 2020, 08:29:09 am #23 Last Edit: September 11, 2020, 08:30:11 am by Lomari
Earlier...

The glow of the fire was visible through the view port, which had her concerned. If what they were doing required any form of stealth or discretion, that had gone right out the window. And that wasn't even touching on the subject of all the other little dots of light they passed on their way to their destination... She didn't like this. Or that, she added to herself, shooting a glare in Breene's direction as he sullied the co-pilot's controls with his grubby hands. Now, she had no proof that they were grubby, it was just a gut feeling. Her disgusted sneer deepened. He hadn't done himself any favors in earning her trust by immediately and without hesitation plopping himself down in her seat, and she'd be filing that away for later. Mel tended to hold grudges.

Now...

Melody stood on the ramp with her arms crossed over her chest and a deepening frown pulling at her lips. She stared at the wild man running up to them from his bonfire, baby blues taking in the face paint, the pupils, the mess. A small, 'huh', registered from the woman. It made sense that this creature was friends with Breene...

"You're early Breene! I needed to finish the ritual before we run the algorithm!"

"...You guys must be the Revenge! Please tell me you were able to get the chips."

Melody shot Breene a look. "We were able to retrieve...some of said chips. What will you be doing with them?" she asked. She had to ask. Despite what Breene had implied, this situation wasn't good for the doubtful. Her arms crossed over her chest and she stared at the painted man and his pajama partner. Her body was tense, coiled, ready to lash out should it become necessary. She's taken the chips away from the mutineer on their ship and given them, instead, to Jo. Either to look over if he felt so inclined, or just to keep them safe. She didn't want their guest somehow leaving them behind with their payload. Now, she'd insisted he'd come along not only to hold onto the chips, but to be her interpreter, should the brainy contacts get technical with her.

"Hello...Goodbye."

She rocked forward onto the balls of her feet as Holger rushed off, some part of her wanting nothing more than to follow and not deal with the mess Isa had left her. But, a larger part of her pulled her back, flattening her feet and grounding her to the Revenge's ramp as though she were a magnet held against its metal. "Missy, please..." she began, looking over at the blonde with what could have been interpreted as a desperate, helpless plea. A hand pulled free of her crossed arms and she gestured toward where the red giant was stripping. The man was still recovering from a concussion, and of all of her crew, he was the one she cared the most about. She didn't want his brain melting out of his ears. If that was a thing that could happen.

The Captain turned her head to eye Izak, then gestured toward the bonfire and the home beyond it, "Would you be so kind as to go secure that?" she asked him, attempting politeness despite the irritated growl at the base of her throat. She did not like this situation one bit, but out of the rest of the crew, this ex-Alliance soldier was one of the better suited to make sure no one was lying in wait for them inside the house/lodge.
Dialogue Color: Brown

Izak Archer

Earlier:
The 'shift change' on the bridge proceeded as planned. If you could call it that. Melody trusted technology far too much in his opinion, but then again, what would one expect from a fighter jockey? They did not make a career out of keeping ships running. Well, at least of this size or larger. Izak got his briefing from Breene, then went back down to the kitchen, found some frozen vegetables, sausage, a couple of eggs and got to work whipping up what a marine told him was called a 'scramble'.

It was essentially an omelet without the extra effort of folding the eggs over.

Grabbing a serving he grabbed a seat in across from Missy and ate as the expect journey and shenanigans unfolded. He made note to ask her about her choices in literature later. Some intelligent conversation would be rather pleasant from time to time.

Now:
This was...something. He had heard the doctor's name before when he was in the service. Izak was sure he saw him give a lecture once. But then again, one mad scientist was just another lab coat on legs to him. People who meddled with, maimed, and corrupted others in the name of progress if left unattended. Izak stood behind the crew as the 'formal' introduction was made, and shook his head as Holger ran off. The man was as tribal as you could get. Fighting the urge to sigh, he maintained his focus as things progressed, shifting slightly but not letting go of his shotgun sling.

Melody then asked him to check out the lodge nearby. Politely. That was new. She even used the word 'please' when addressing Missy. That was so new his jaw almost dropped open. Taking his weapon off his shoulder he simply said, "On, it."

Once he was sure Melody could not see his face, he started chuckling. Now was not the time to mess with her for acting like an actual Captain however, there was a job to be done. One that just kept getting weirder.

Joakim Soong

Doctor Ricardo August. The name had rang a bell when Breene had brought it up, and a quick dive into the cortex confirmed that Jo had indeed heard of the man before. His background check did not bear much fruit that Breene hadn't already offered to them on a platter: genius-level intellect, worked on some highly classified weapons projects for the Alliance, abandoned his allegiance to become a recluse of some kind. The man also had a fondness for mind-expanding drugs -- not a subject Jo had any personal experience with, on account of his neigh neurotic need to be in control of his facilities at all times, but it was something he tried to keep an open mind about... Pun not intended.

Jo's mind clearly wasn't open enough to prepare him for the bedraggled, white-faced apparition that greeted them once they landed on the moon. He stood next to Melody and tried his hardest not to look like the wild-eyed man in a loin-cloth was making him uncomfortable. Instead, he turned his attention to Alan, who appeared to be sober and was also closer to fully clothed, even if the clothes in question were pajamas.

"I'm Jo, the tech guy." He reached out his hand for a handshake. "Perhaps we could discuss the details of the project while Doctor August finishes his... ritual." He was momentarily distracted by Holger as he went speeding past them, running towards the dying bonfire. Well, at least somebody felt at home.
Dialogue color: teal

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