Harold – Command Compartment A thought trickled through the mind of the Lorath commander as she hunched forward in her seat, placing elbows upon her knees, eying the Robot, and listening to the man enter the compartment. There was thought of a simple behavior that her people placed great value upon; a gathering. Seated together, to share thoughts, ideas, feelings, goals, it was a precious concept to the Lorath people to be able to gather. Grief, hope, anger, happiness, they were among many reasons to assemble in proximity, to speak openly, and with intention. Most especially was the practice cherished in difficult times. “Lewis.” Korr’ih spoke, shifting her gaze over her shoulder; “Overhead compartment eight-B. Emergency rations, all we have left really, considering the Lorthet ate our primary supply. Bring the containers, we will share in a meal, and speak openly.” She said with a quiet resolve, as she looked eye to eye at the Robot. At such close distance, it was clear in the amber gaze of Korr’ih something was ‘off’, inflammation of the capillaries in the whites of her eyes, pupils dilated, but her gaze was otherwise clear and intense. A hormonal response was likely at play, likely serotonin or adrenaline, but which was entirely unclear. “We have a matter to discuss, and I would prefer that we discuss it while filling our bellies. It is only civilized for creatures like ourselves to at least speak without addled by starvation. We are not animals.” Korr’ih stressed that last point, they were not animals, they were not beasts, but just why was that something she had eating at her thoughts was left unspoken in that moment.
Herald, Command Compartment "Aye aye," Danny replied, turning around and reaching up to the compartment, popping it open by pushing a button with a gentle hammer fist. "I suppose we should have a nap after we eat these and shoot the breeze a bit." He grabbed a few flat trays with covers over them and something shaking around inside them. On the top of each covered tray was a rip cord and a warning about the hot contents after the flash-heating process took place. The flavours varied, but a pasta and meat flavoured ration caught Danny's eye, and he saved it for himself after passing the others to the captain, the Robot, and the Lorthet. As he settled into his chair and put the meal in his lap, the blonde also placed the deck of playing cards he found in the tool compartment down on a fold-out table in his seat. He pulled the ripcord on his rations, heard the pop and sizzle of the instant steaming process inside the meal, let it sit for a moment to warm itself up. As the meal simmered, he took the cards out of the box and started counting them, ending up with four suits of thirteen cards each, and two wild cards. The suits were unorthodox, displaying cups, coins, swords, and clubs - in order of value. They had a full deck ready to play, and he shuffled and set them aside. "By the way, you alright there, captain?" Danny asked, noticing the redness in Korr'ih's eyes. "You look like you got hayfever. In space." The thought amused him, and he couldn't help but chuckle. "Heheh, space hayfever."
Herald - Command Compartment The brief period of time in which the members of the crew were gathered together was a surprisingly turbulent time, at least internally for Unit 00000002. While the premise was simple enough, the idea of conversing, eating, and spending time as a group was one that inspired a strange mixture of emotional, logical, and learned responses, several of which were unanticipated. Foremost among the oddities in her cognitive responses was the elation at being offered food, something that was especially out of place as she was very likely the one individual aboard the Herald who needed it least. Seeing as it was a part of a social ritual beyond pragmatism Unit 00000002 concluded that for the moment it would not be wise to pass up the offered meal and instead decided to endeavor to put the surplus to use for the crew's benefit in the future. Seeing as she would be too isolated in her own seat, Unit 00000002 opted instead settled into an easy crouch her thighs serving as a serviceable table for the purposes of her food, something that she took small comfort in as she focused on the meal for the moment uncertain how to handle the development of Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde's distributed cards. Things had progressed in a manner that she had not expected and the brief pangs of anxiety were an unpleasant development, though in a way expected. Taking a moment to silently give thanks to the Goddess, for her meal, the fortune of herself and the Herald's crew, as well as to opportunity to simply be there in that moment Unit 00000002 held her peace with a bit of ease, and mental comfort before timidly poking at her meal eating it carefully as if expecting to be told that she was not allowed to do so. As she partook of the meal she cast glances between the Commander, and the Herald's Operations officer silently beseeching them to provide some cue on which she could follow or some prompt with which she could respond unable, and partially unwilling to venture into the social arena on her own.
Herald - Command Compartment "Thanks" Korr'ih offered in exchange for the ration package which was presented to her. Studying eyes went over the package, as she pinned the package as foreign, something imported from outside of not just the universe, but also the civilization she served. Her assessment was made clear by the words that were of alien tongue to her own, closer to those which Lewis used. What was not spoken was the fact that all the packages were pasta and meat, formulated to be far more filling than the authentic article, comprised of synthetic materials that were cloned and recombined in by a people that Korr'ih only had a vague recollection of. Korr’ih offered her momentary silence to the meal after she had pulled the cord upon it, letting the automated preparation take place with her grasp, as her finger-tips were warmed by the reaction within. Her thanks was given, not just to Lewis, but to the will that had placed her and the crew where they were in that moment, and where they would be led. Thanks were the right thing to give, but, that was not what left her mouth before she started to eat; “I will be honest, at this time we are not mission viable.” She broke the honest news to her crew, before she tore open her ration package, and began to pick at it with the included plastic fork which came with the meal. “Our reactor system intended for secondary support was what nearly vaporized our engine bay. Our primary reactor is a deathtrap.” Korr’ih stated flatly, speaking with an insight that reached through being. “We have maneuvering engines, faster-than-light engines, sensors, shield systems, and weapon functionality, along with life-sustaining utilities. What we do not have is reliable function of our secondary high-energy systems, support equipment that allows our ship to perform to the peak required to return home.” “Any fool knows, outside of the realm of those who serve the cause—“ There was a word spoken, poorly translatable, but meaning so much more, almost speaking of a holy purpose; “monetary notes or items of barter are required.” The Commander continued to explain as she built to her point; “In plain terms, we are impoverished travelers, maimed and unable to make our way home with what we have left. We have no means of securing supplies nor equipment through socially acceptable channels, nor do we have the luxury to trust those which we encounter. Our mission here is a solitary one, to alert any locals of our being is to alert them of what is to follow. Even if we had something to barter, it would simply be unacceptable to allow anyone to know of us to speak of us. We are left with few viable options.” Korr’ih laid out the matter, pausing briefly to consume some of her meal. Once her mouth was clear of food, she spoke further; “We must gain, without giving. We must take, without asking. We have a need, and the means to fulfill it, if we are willing to commit for the sake of our mission, our lives, and those which simply cannot live here.” Korr’ih gestured to the vitrified and liquefied of the crew. “Mister Lewis, while we have indulged in your expertise as a fixer, your true gift is what we have you here for, just the same as my own.” As she spoke those words, Korr’ih shifted in her seat, revealing the polished bone grips adorning the cannon-esque revolver at her hip. “We played at being explorers, but look upon us, and know the truth; we were never here for a sight-seeing cruise.”
The Herald, Command Bay Danny remained quiet as Korr'ih started outlining the situation as she saw, there was no doubting that the ship was a stricken thing. However, he took no offence and raised no additional pointers to the vessel's condition, as he'd done what he considered his best with the Robot to keep it together. The blonde peeled the lid off of his rations and begun noshing down on them while listening to the Captain's words. The man paused mid-chew as he heard Korr'ih mention the cause - he just didn't get it, and it was a word that didn't quite slot nicely into his understanding of the Lorath lexicon. He raised an eyebrow at the word, and looked towards the robot - who was a lot smaller than he expected - unspoken words being: The... caw-se? Whazzat? Neither of the men under the man's hood knew if the blue thing got the Lorath psyche, but he wouldn't be surprised if she did, given their fey behaviour and disposition. Robert figured having such an important role as the ship's calculator probably had her in very good with the birds. Am I even expected to understand this the caw-se? He pondered privately before shrugging. Eh, no biggie. But, the next sentences caught the man's attention, looking up from his meal and the playing cards he was fiddling with. A low, throaty chuckle filled the cabin as Korr'ih outlined taking without asking and gaining without giving - it sounded like wetwork - a calling both men shared. "That wasn't me laughing," Danny said, an unusually wicked grin coming across the man's face, "that was Robert. He's heard of rolling merchant caravans and ships for a quick buck, and I used to sneak in behind enemy lines and do recon, steal things, and pop heads while being quiet as a church mouse," he paused to take a forkful of pasta into his mouth, fencing the air with his fork as he chewed and swallowed, "but are you saying we're going to roll a whole goddamned star system?" Danny and Robert begun nodding, their two minds lining up. They weren't being driven by the cause or polite professionalism - they were in this venture for the thrills now. "Count me in - we've come this far on sheer guts alone - why stop?" he clapped his hands together and looked amongst those assembled. His gaze turned towards the human popsicle in the other seat. "Well, except for them - they are guts now." Even so, there was a timbre of nervousness in his voice - he counted his lucky stars that he too was not guts.
Harbinger - Instruction Alcove The first words spoken by the Commander while not unexpected rang with an unpleasant truth, one that in some ways was better out in the open to avoid the pitfalls of blindly hopeful actions. As the Commander continued to outline the state of the Herald and what it meant for their mission Unit 00000002 found that a new question had formed in her mind, one that had been pushed aside in the face of more pressing concerns but which was now plainly apparent. The transition to topics of material goods, and the aquisition of such brought a small feeling that at some point in time Unit 00000002 was quite afluent though in her present circumstances the notion seemed fanciful, wishful, and more than a little far fetched. Returning her full attention to the conversation at hand, Unit 00000002 noted that it had been made clear that the crew of the Herald were travelling toward the brown dwarf system to take what they needed to move on. Their venture was going to be one of swift, brutal, and hopefully effective resource aquisition at the expense of whoever or whatever the native population was. All in all it was a fairly comforting prospect for Unit 00000002, it was something that she was fairly certain she knew how to do, which in her present circumstances was not something that she could say for many things. About to respond with her own assent to the proposed course of action Unit 00000002 was silenced by the comment made by Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde. A comment that was less than appreciated, one which Unit 00000002 addressed softly, and politely, "Mr. Danny Hanley-Lewis, and Mr. Robert Forde. I would greatly appreciate it if you did not make jokes about those of us who have suffered less than pleasant fates on this mission." Refusing to dwell on the subject, Unit 00000002 turned her attention back to the Commander and replied directly, "I have no reservations about taking action that would promote the success of our mission, no matter how many must perish at our hand in order to do so. My loyalties are to your command." After a moment of consideration Unit 00000002 commented, "Given the skill-set of our crew, the lack of reserve materials to promote recovery in the event of accident, as well as the absence of dedicated science facilities aboard this vessel, would I be wrong in assuming that we would have chosen this course of action even had our ship not been damaged?"
Herald – Command Compartment “Depending on what our sensors tell us en route, yes, a whole star system if we can manage.” Korr’ih replied as she found distinctive satisfaction in Lewis’ response, just as had been planned a universe away, weeks prior. Understandably, someone else on the crew managed to piece together the chain of thought, as the Robot spoke of her analysis, one that Korr’ih had no reason to decline replying to. “You’re right, Robot. At least for the most part. Our mission itinerary has placed this possible series of events at a substantially high probability. If everything would have gone perfect, we still would have had to scout the occupants of this universe, but without making direct contact, which would have been lacking in thoroughness. Our situation now, while short-handed, was determined to be the most beneficial and effective for our mission intent. We wished to know who we were displacing, contending with, and potentially becoming neighbors with. If we find extraordinary opposition, we would re-evaluate the next stage of our operations. If we find easily overcome opposition, we would continue our advance.” Korr’ih explained in full, as she leaned back into her command chair and crossed one leg over the other. “Ideally. We kill everyone we meet, we do so without spilling our own blood, and without severely damaging our ship. If we come away relatively unscathed, then our mission will result in the security of my people, and a future of freedom.” Korr’ih continued, as she eyed the console which protruded from her seat. “We could have sent a battleship, something larger, with more power, more weapons. However, to gauge with such a ship, we would have had to attack a larger settlement, or perhaps even a whole developed star system beyond some measly brown dwarf star with what appears to be a meager outpost. Frankly, we have no interest in subjugation, or conquest. We simply need a home, one we can be sure is going to be safe.” “So now, we ply our trades. We use this ship for its true purpose. We test the waters of this place and we know where we stand while we guarantee our own continued existence.” Korr’ih’s lips curled in a somber smile. “We do so without a soul walking away to bring about fear, uncertainty, or doubt.” With that, Korr’ih took to eating her rations in earnest, as she let the situation sink in fully with her crew; they were there because they were killers, the finest that the Matriarchy could trust in relation to the mission.
Herald - Command Compartment As things were laid out, the direction of their goals became clear, and with that, a sense of purpose replaced the uncertainty and scraps of worry that had begun to grow as the untenable nature of their situation became apparent. At the moment they had a fairly straight forward task at hand; first they would determine the nature of the inhabitants of the system they were approaching, then they would choose the optimal course of action to isolate them, and then finally it was the simple matter of methodically killing them until none remained. All in all, it was going to be a relatively pleasant task. With their task laid out, Unit 00000002 noted with some dissatisfaction that for the moment there was little to do but wait as without a larger body of sensor data there was little she could do to determine the type of communication use most prevalently in the system let alone attempt to puzzle out its meaning. With this in mind, Unit 00000002 gave a brief acknowledging reply and turned to her food as well savoring what little variety there was in the flavors and knowing that soon enough she'd have plenty to keep her busy.
The Herald, Command Compartment "Well shit, I'm sorry," Danny replied to the robot as he looked aside. His intuition was telling him the artificial being had some sort of connection with the deceased crewmate, since Korr'ih didn't bat an eyelid at his jibe. The reason for the disconnect wasn't known, as he had expected the Captain to be the one to swat him down for speaking ill of the dead. "With any luck we can get 'em back in once piece when we get home," He tried to reassure the blue thing as best as he could, but lacking information, context, or the extent of their relationship with the deceased made his assurances shaky, "and make sure their next trip here doesn't end like ... that." In the back of the man's head meanwhile, Robert was surfacing some more as he considered his mission. If I was biologically compatible with this woman, I'd totally bang her. The pirate considered, stroking his chin, eyeing the captain, and somewhat smitten by her. Korr'ih had just enabled Robert's inner child to run free - and the best part was, he would get a home in return. However, Danny knew more about Lorath than his former self did, face screwing up a little at the thought. Hell, I'd try anyway - didn't stop me before! Danny diverted his gaze from the captain, focussing on the deck of cards in front of him. She's my captain, and Lorath culture does not work that way. The voice of reason and experience (painful experience!) rebutted. He dealt himself a hand, checked, then shuffled it back into the deck as a distraction, recalling card games between the two of them he could play with four, maybe five players. You would not be wearing the pants in the relationship, for starters... Whaddaya mean? You'll see, trust me. The blonde looked up. "While we're waiting, anybody up for a game of cards?" He looked over to the Lorthet. "You're invited too," and he looked over to the robot, "and so is your AI buddy."
Herald - Command Compartment With the man's apology given and attempted placation that followed, Unit 00000002 considered the matter for the moment resolved as any held grudges toward Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde would only serve to hinder their chances of success on the mission. While the matter was effectively forgiven, Unit 00000002 did not feel any particular warmth toward the man and opted to ignore his proposition of playing a game together. This decision, however, spurred another to speak out cheerfully over the command compartment's intercom, "Greetings! I am for the moment labeled 'Support Unit 01' and I apologize profusely for my tardy introduction. I hope you will see fit to forgive my transgression Commander. As you know I am an artificial intelligence and function as a partner, best friend, and parallel unit to the one which you all lovingly refer to as 'Robot' as such for your convenience you may refer to me as 'the other one,' 'Robot 2,' 'your new best friend,' 'computer,' or simply 'number 2' alternative titles are acceptable and will be acknowledged for the purposes of this mission. "Now then, while my more thoughtful and polite counterpart may not wish to participate in your game of cards, I'll more than happily participate with her serving as my beleaguered physical proxy. It will be an appreciated diversion of attention while we wait for the wealth of sensor data to accumulate so that we may begin processing the data in earnest and discover just what our new existential compatriots have to offer. Now then, if you would please give a brief outline of the chosen rule set, and deal the first hand I'd love to begin~" As the cheerful voice of Unit 00000002's companion came to a close, she gave an expectant glance toward Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde and awaited whatever the card game would bring as she was, somewhat unwillingly going to be participating. Though she supposed it wasn't an entirely ideal scenario simply knowing that she'd be getting to hear more of a friendly rather than professional voice was enough to placate her for the moment and give some small spark of interest toward their male cohort's attempt at a social bonding exercise.
Herald – Command Compartment Misguided Anticipation Listening to the exchange of the crew, their words, their thoughts, their feelings… even the feelings of the Robot, it was meaningful to Korr’ih. Until that moment, there was little if any feeling to be felt about those which were sat near her, bound to her command, assigned to fulfill the will of her people. Certainly, the feeling Korr’ih had was a far cry from sentimentality, but, there was an appreciation, a value assigned to the people she was leading. Korr’ih’s thoughts on the pair were soon interrupted by a third, belonging to a source which could perhaps be considered a crew member. Quite jovial Korr’ih mused as she listened to the AI speak over the hardware of the Harold, making quite the informal introduction for what essentially amounted to a piece of kit intended to make their mission attainable in some way. There was a thought, something that had Korr’ih speak up; “Kit, that will be your name for the time being.” The Lorath commander decided, before gesturing to Lewis to deal her in. Expositionesque Narrative As cards were laid out between the occupants of the Herald, the ship pinched together pieces of space and time, pressing, forcing, moving, creating a differential which propelled the ship through space and even a portion of time itself, as it approached the brown dwarf system which the Lorath commander had set her gaze upon. What the Herald approached was a humble but useful little dusty mess of a star system, one which had the mundane purpose of serving to line the pockets of people unknown, at places unknown, at least unknown to the crew of the Herald. People, they were a key focus of Herald’s mission. People were a variable which had ways of shifting and changing as the equation around them developed. Little was predictable with people, twice over with people from another universe from those which approached the star system. As far as the crew of the Herald knew, they could have been collaborating to murder a colony of sentient kittens in mechanical exoskeletons, it mattered not even if it were the case, the decision had already been made. Just what was the Herald destined to encounter? It was a mystery to the crew which comprised the expedition. There was no way for the crew to know that the system they were approaching was a simple mining outpost, that the population was small and ill prepared for an assault purely by virtue of being associated with the ‘bigger fish’ of the universe. While the Herald was unaware, so were the occupants of the system locally known as ‘Eldruid’, where only a feeling of unrest gave any hint of the calamity which was to come. Instinct, interwoven to the fabric of their universe, pulled upon the edges of conscious thought, screaming to be heard, desperate to foretell the tragedy which would befall the unsuspecting. Herald – Command Compartment Cards slid out before each crew member, as Korr’ih peered beneath the upturned edge of one card, she soon flipped it and set it apart from the other “Split.” She spoke as she set apart a card bearing a sepia-toned image of feminine beauty graced by a crown and little else., indicating she was willing to be bold enough to forego a near certain victory for the possibility of doubling her victory. “Kit, don’t be lazy just because you will be playing cards with us, we still need some idea of what we are headed into, we still need to formulate a plan of action.” Korr’ih advised, as she waited for more cards to be laid out, and as she looked upon the imagery of the cards before her, something itched and gnawed at the soft space of flesh within her skull. Something that almost made her want to gag and vomit the meal she had eaten, purely out of a subconscious grief in having forgotten something far away. “Urgh… imported rations are disgusting.”
The Herald, Command Area The blonde was taken aback by the sudden change in emotion and language from the robot, but the helpful and verbose clarification that 'Support Unit 01' was using the Robot as a physical proxy cleared things up, but simultaneously raised several more questions. However, the most immediate question was how to play the game Danny was setting out. "Alright, this game is called Foo', as in idiot, eggshell head, dumbass, et-cetera. Its a bit complicated, so bear with me on this rundown. Feels like its been forever since I've had to explain how to play." He started removing all cards of all suits between 2 and 5 in the deck, gave it another quick shuffle and cut, and the extra cards aside. He dealt every player a hand of six cards. "The objective is to lose all your cards by attacking and defending against attacks," before he put the remainder of the deck down, he took the bottom card and flipped it up - an Eight of Cups - and stashed it under the deck at a ninety degree angle,"and the first attacker is determined by this trump card. Whoever has the lowest of that suit goes first, and they attack the player to their left by playing a card. Aces are high, sixes are low, and the Trump suit - in this case, cups" he indicated the upturned card under the deck, "beats all, but you'll wanna save them - especially the Ace of Cups." Moving on, there was more to go on: "When you make an attack, you place your card face up in the middle. This is the start of a bout, the defender counters by playing a card of a non-trump suit with a higher number, or by playing a trump of any number. Trumps can only be beaten by other, higher trumps. There is no need to follow the suits here, just the numbers." He took a short breath, subconsciously fobbing himself for a cigarette. He must've kept them in his top pocket once upon a time. "After a defence, the attacker may make another attack, and the defender must defend against it separately. Further attacks must be the same number as any card played in the current bout, cannot make more attacks than the number of cards in the defender's hand, and only six attacks can be made in one bout at any time." "Now, where the fun happens is that other players may add to the attacker's attack to pile on - but only with the attacker's permission. The defender cannot get help. The attacker and his mates win if the defender cannot counter attacking card or chooses not to, and they must pick up all the cards on the table, including their own. Then, the next attacker is whoever's to the defender's left. The defence succeeds when all attacks are countered and nobody's game to continue, when they manage to defend against six attacks in one bout, or if they empty their hand. On successful defence, the defender becomes the next attacker and all cards used to attack and defend are discarded from the game - so successful attacks keep cards in rotation and your opponent's hands fat." "After a bout, everyone replenishes their hands if they have less than six cards. It goes in order, starting with the attacker, then anyone who joined in clockwise from them, then the defender. When the deck runs out, the Trump at the bottom remains, and bouts keep on happening with discards as usual. The last person with cards in their hand is the loser. It's pretty freakin' complex and I hope someone who can explain it better knows how to play it in this universe, but its lots of fun." In his rougishness, he'd guaranteed himself the Ace of Cups he'd mentioned earlier with some clever shuffling after getting a feel for the deck. "I'm pretty sure the Fox is working on crunching those numbers in the background," Danny said, spontaneously giving the robot another moniker in light of its AI partner being named 'Kit' by Korr'ih, "we just don't need to hear every step of the thought process between 'em." Another quip from the Captain left Danny with one other question which he couldn't answer - and had almost no frame of reference for in either head. What he'd just finished eating and set aside was imported from somewhere, but he couldn't recall. Everywhere had a flavour - and these rations, while satisfactory, had nowhere to call home. As far as he was concerned - they came into existence from the compartment he took them from. "Imported from ... where?"
Herald - Command Compartment "Kit?" The name was echoed in contemplation before a cheery response followed, "I thank you for your gift of a name Commander. I shall endeavor to repay the debt." The words were spoken on the tail of the first actions of the 'card game' interestingly enough begun by the Commander herself introducing a concept that suggested a doubling or 50:50 change in the odds, however before this act could be elaborated upon the man scooped up the cards and began an exposition explaining a ruleset that while internally consistent made little sense beyond the scope of the game, at least not to Kit. This was further emphasized by Unit 00000002 sending a digital inquiry silently wondering as to the arbitrary removal of the two through five cards, a choice that was not explained. At the explanation of the rules drew to an end, Unit 00000002 freshly dubbed 'Fox' collected the dealt cards and looked them over giving Kit an idea of what they were working with so that they might begin discovering the optimal pattern with which to acquire and discard cards in order to achieve the winning circumstance required by the game. At the moment the goal was to bid low-value cards to encourage the others to 'win' with higher value cards so as to collect the cards and use them in later hands when it would be more important to score defensive victories. An additional note was the mention of the sensor data which was partially addressed by Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde, something unlike the issue of imported foodstuffs that could be addressed, to this end while Kit awaited the beginning of the card game in earnest 'Fox' spoke up in her quiet calm tones, "At present we are reviewing earlier data which was overlooked as it appeared to be meaningless noise originating from the system. As we have moved closer to the system, and our focus has intensified on the local emissions it has become apparent that the inhabitants are using low-power wideband radio frequencies for communication. Due to the low power output of these communications magnetic interference from the local planetary masses and the dwarf star as well as interference from the system's outer dust clouds weakened the signals to a level that appeared insignificant at our initial distance... At present Kit and I are theorizing that this is to discourage outside observation of in system communications. Until we have a larger wealth of information to begin attempts at deciphering their communication habits, language, and meaning, we will not be able to say for certain the reasoning behind the preference for the observed communications." Pausing as she considered what she had voiced Unit 00000002 gave the other members of the crew time to consider the new, if still sparse information before finishing, "We will continue to investigate the sensor data and will provide updates as new information becomes available." "For now we may as well give our all to figuring out this man's card game and have some fun." Kit suggested as she encouraged Fox to waggle the hand of cards at the other crew members.
Harold – Command Compartment An hour and some change had passed as the trio invested themselves into a game of cards which over time, Korr’ih deduced that she was not exactly skilled at and was showing little sign of improvement. There was reason for her lackluster performance; her mind was elsewhere, in many places, seeking many thoughts. Korr’ih’s lack of investment into the card game peaked as she declined to be dealt into the next hand. “I’ll pass.” She spoke simply, before leaning back into the seat of her command position, placing her arms to rest upon their designated resting spaces upon the seat. “Kit, Robot, the assumption was made that those people ahead of us are using RF based communications due to a desire for privacy. What of assuming they simply lack a better means of communication in system?” Korr’ih suggested, as she tried to wrap her mind around a fleeting thought from somewhere else. “If they have a FTL communication system that has distinctive limitations in regard to throughput and bandwidth, they would likely reserve its use for priority interstellar communications. Otherwise, it would simply be foolish to use RF based communications if working on an interplanetary scale, as delay times anywhere between two seconds to ten hours would exist, preventing any effective centralized command-and-control. That is a big sacrifice for privacy, I don’t care how bad you want to keep your neighbors from seeing your sord bu’sim.” Her last words lapsed into something she simply lacked proper words to convey to the others of the group. “If the people ahead lack a sophisticated FTL communication system, it could be possible to silence their ability to communicate out of system with expedience. As opposed to attempting to blanket the area with a jamming signal… of course, we would do that regardless, for the sake of redundancy.” Korr’ih spoke, and as she did, it was clear she was sorting her thoughts, using the Robot as a sounding board for her own musings on their pending encounter. “If our sensors pick up some FTL communications, try to trace it to an exact point of origin, perhaps we can have a target to aim for specifically upon our arrival.” After speaking her thought, the Commander’s eyes closed, obscuring her amber gaze. Pulse slowed, respiration as well. In that instant, the Commander had willed herself to sleep. There was no reason to deprive herself of several hours’ shuteye before their arrival to their target destination. “Now that she’s done, deal me in.” Spoke the shrill and raspy voice of the stowaway Lorthet, as it arranged itself to sit, as its talon adorned feet protruded out, grasping at air, awaiting the cards to be dealt, as its bulbous and fluffy body threatened to topple in its awkward position.
Herald - Command Compartment For Unit 00000002 the hours spent in transit had been a mixture of tedium and almost meditative bliss, a contrast that for the moment she had opted not to contemplate too deeply. From what little she had paid attention to, Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde had won most of the rounds dealt and "Kit" in her digital musing over the game had come to a fairly certain conclusion that he was using sleight of hand with the deck to cheat. A claim that while likely had no hard evidence to present and remained for the moment unvoiced. Kit for her part had proven a mixture of overly cautious and marginally effective in the game demonstrating a preference for purposefully losing in order to start hoarding cards early on while trying to make complex plays late- game to dispose of as many cards as possible. While her successes were few and far between, they had proven to be somewhat impressive when achieved. In the background, both Support Unit 01 "Kit" and Unit 00000002 "Fox" had attributed most of their processing power to the task of monitoring the steady influx of raw sensor data. As the new information poured in the pair had been doing their best to make sense of what they discovered, slowly working to compile a language out of what was for all intents and purposes electromagnetic noise. The emergence of patterns, defining both the language transmitted as well as the habits of the distant occupants of the dwarf star's system was slowly becoming clear. When the Commander spoke up, musing aloud the pair paid close attention, even as fresh cards were set down and the card game continued. The suggestion that a lack of superior means of communication present within the system was a curious one, especially given the inhospitable nature of the system which to Unit 00000002 implied a level of technological prowess which would normally alleviate such problems. Additionally, the mention of FTL communications sparked a re-assessment of the data gathered so far from the system and with it a re-evaluation of data previously discarded as anomalous noise near the outskirts of the system, blips of energy appearing seemingly at random. As the suggestions and orders drew to a close, Unit 00000002 responded promptly, "Acknowledged Commander, any possible FTL communications arrays or facilities will be prioritized for identification and immediate neutralization. At present, there have been no recognizable signs, at least to our sensor capabilities, of spatial distortions that might indicate FTL activity within the system. However, there have been brief pulses of spatial distortions at a distance from the edges of the stellar disk, these were discarded as random fluctuations at first due to their infrequency, however, upon reviewing the data, they do appear to fall into a pattern occurring twice a year with minimal variance between events. Given the distance from the nearest planetary bodies and the bulk of the RF signals' origin, I would expect these are FTL transit events rather than communications, however, the data is inconclusive at the moment." "Further information will be compiled and forwarded to you for review Commander..." Trailing off as she noted the change in state of the Commander's metabolism, Unit 00000002 lapsed once more into silence replaced by Kit's slightly hushed cheerful voice, "I'm in for another round, might as well make the best of our time in transit~ I look forward to facing our new challenger." For the moment it would seem that they would simply have to content themselves with data collection and processing working to break the cipher of the alien's language and give the crew some insight into just what, or who they were going to be dealing with. Information which could potentially prove vital to their mission, or at the very least smooth the process.
The Herald, Command Area While Danny dealt his cards to the Lorthet and continued playing, occasionally dealing a favourable game to the Robot or the Lorthet to keep suspicion off, the talk of crippling the system's communications seemed like the logical choice. "And how do you suppose we get rid of these communications arrays?" He wasn't doubting doing so, he just wasn't sure if they had the means. "Are the weapons on the boat working?" There was no way to do a test fire until the ship dropped out of FTL. If they didn't work it'd be another do-it-yourself project between himself and the robot; Though Danny sincerely hoped that wouldn't be the case. Watching the Captain fall asleep had made him feel sleepy too. "Otherwise I suppose we could ram them with the shields cranked all the way up. Worked for me once..." Though, judging by the seriousness of the mission and the state of the ship, he felt the need to add a clarification: "Just kiddin'. I don't think it'd work with the Herald in this state. In any case, we knock out comms, then go ground and ransack." The Robot noticed he omitted any mention of distinguishing communications between FTL and STL - to the blonde, there was just communications. After a couple more games of cards, the rogue folded "I think that's enough - I should get some rest." He figured the best place to rest was where he woke up a few hours ago. Couldn't have been that bad - headache aside. "Spirit's willin', but the flesh is all tired and ropey. G'night everybody." Touching a few commands into the console of his workstation as he settled in, a shroud cast itself over the console area, and the pico-jelly seating rearranged itself to provide optimal comfort. He didn't fall asleep immediately. Whilst watching and waiting, the Robot discerned brainwave activity from the man suggesting deep contemplation. Little mumbles, grumbles, or shifts punctuated spikes. Half an hour later though, he drifted into sleep, having found peace somewhere between his psyches.
Herald - Command Compartment Hand after hand, card after card, the games went on as the Lorath Commander slept. Even so, the remaining avian of the group remained active. Chitters, chirps, and the occasional shrill word left the Lorthet, even as Danny went to sleep the Lorthet remained awake. While awake, there was an oddity to the Lorthet, it was quiet, it was far too quiet for one of its kind, even as it shifted its beady-eyed gaze onto the Robot which had formerly been their perch. Even as it stared at the Robot, the soft tones of the command compartment were louder than both of the waking occupants. Only a steadily raising octave which poured from a console gave accompaniment to the building silence between the two which were untouched by sleep. A question lurked behind the beady gaze before the Lorthet spoke; "You there. Robot, are you stupid?" the bird asked, perhaps accused. "You were being cheated by that flesh-body, over and over. Robot eyes see everything, robot brain thinks everything... unless its stupid." It again accused, before hopping along, and with a flutter of its wings, it soon perched upon the boulder which was the twin of the Robot. "Too nice perhaps, that's stupid too." mocked the bird, before craning over and scraping its curved beak against the petrified face of the other which shared a vulpine appearance. "When you can do something, and you don't do something, that means you're stupid, or you just can't." Spoke the Lorthet between sharpening strokes against the calcified body. "Maggies tend to do everything they can, when they want to, however they want to, unless they can't." chittered the Lorthet, as it stopped sharpening its beak to look squarely at the Robot. "Stupid means you could have been otherwise. Perhaps Robot can't be otherwise? Can't see otherwise? Can't feel otherwise?" There was a rumbling cooing sound from deep in the Lorthet's tiny body, a soft thunder that only caused the Lorath Commander to shift slightly in her sleep as it mingled with the raised tone which came from the sensors of the Herald. "All the better." It spoke, before continuing. "They already know we're coming. They just don't know what to think about us." Another cooing sound "If only they knew~! They can't feel you though, Robot, they can't read jelly-brain either. Cripple-wing should count her blessings too, hue hue hue~!" Certainly much was said by the chatty bird once left alone with the Robot. Little indication was present to even begin to hint at the fact that the Lorthet was not just spouting garbage, other than the steady din which continued to pour from the sensors tied to a console marked with three letters 'P' 'S' 'D'. It warned of something which was simply outside of the Robot's grasp, but for the little Lorthet, it was as plain to see as the stars outside of the Herald, and the watching gaze which studied the threads which knit together the fabric of the foreign universe.
Herald - Command Compartment The question of how to remove the communications arrays was one that Unit 00000002 had quietly considered. Due to the Herald's intended mission profile, and the now easy access to recovered data files it was clear to see that the Herald had weapons systems available none of which reported malfunction. Even so, Unit 00000002 had not taken the diagnostic results for granted and had evaluated other options which allowed for an attempt at misdirection before the man too fell asleep, "To answer your concerns Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde, we have the Herald's engine array as our primary weapon for the assault. Its output should be more than sufficient to destroy any target we direct it at. Should we decide to be less direct, the Herald is equipped with a couple varieties of secondary weapons systems to facilitate our secondary objective of gauging possible enemy strength. As such we should not have to resort to ramming anyone." The silence after Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde had joined the Commander in the embrace of sleep had been somewhat comforting to Unit 00000002. It had suggested a calm where things were for the moment well. Counter to this moment of peacefulness was the quiet awareness that the Lorthet was unlike the other two active biological occupants of the Herald, very much awake. A shared observation occurred, the gaze of the Lorthet constant upon Unit 00000002, while her own observation was indirect avoiding staring at the Lorthet in the way that a predator might in a small attempt to give it some comfort. When it was clear that Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde was well and truly asleep, the Lorthet began to speak. Unsurprisingly the first thing it inquired was quite possibly an insult. As it continued, however, the Lorthet displayed insight that for the moment had been tenuously assumed only to have belonged to herself and her companion. Listening with greater interest as the Lorthet continued to speak, chiding her for either stupidity or kindness while making use of the lithic monument to Unit 00000001 to sharpen its beak, something that Unit 00000002 tolerated reluctantly. The lecture touched upon a foreign term 'maggie' before progressing into something less certain; can't see? can't feel? To what was it referring to? This it seemed to approve of for reasons unfathomable to Unit 00000002, only for more information to be given. The suggestion that those they approached knew of the Herald seemed unlikely, an unlikelihood further compounded by the design of the Herald's FTL systems which had been calibrated to distort the ship's signal in transit like all systems of its kind as a tactical feature for times of conflict. Unfortunately, the Lorthet was providing too much, too varied, information to simply dismiss outright, after all, it was neither completely random nor was it too uniform. The emphasis on the word 'blessings' didn't help as the Lorthet chuckled to itself. Settling into her seat the Lorthet was given a moment of dedicated contemplation before the sensor readings were acknowledged by Unit 00000002, and at that moment she decided to speak, "I will tell you a secret." Turning to look at the Lorthet, she held her gaze for a moment before giving the small creature a genuinely warm smile. An expression that did not suit the 'Robot' who had demonstrated a profound lack of personhood, being clinical, cold, and everything that was expected out of a machine, this dissonance continued as her voice continued with a soft friendly warmth to it, "Whether or not the man was putting the cards in his favor did not matter as we played. For he did not need to know that I or my companion knew that he was doing so. For the moment it suits us for him to think that he successfully completed his deception. If, however, there were to be something that we wanted available then perhaps we would expose or subvert his tricks, or perhaps we would endeavor to win through a fluke and leave him wondering." A moment was taken by Unit 00000002 to silence the report of the sensor console while quietly monitoring it's readings, mentally tying the whining alert to the Psionic Scrambler Device and piecing together some of what the Lorthet had spoken of. It seemed that whoever they were approaching had either psionic capabilities beyond the fragmented knowledge available to Unit 00000002, or something which registered similarly to the Herald's sensors a distinction that Unit 00000002 was certain she'd learn in time. This also suggested that perhaps the Lorthet had been speaking truthfully when they mentioned that their approach was already known and watched. For now, however, she spoke only a short conclusion, "You are right, though, I am stupid and far too kind." Monitoring the sensor data tied to the PSD closely looking for any variation or suggestion of suddenly increasing activity, Unit 00000002 assumed that she might not have more than a fraction of a second to act if it would truly be needed to defend the ship however, she also knew that maintaining the illusion that the Herald did not know that there was anything to defend against, or have any defences available was important. The closer to the point of engagement that the Herald's defenses were activated, the more likely it would be that the Herald's crew would enjoy the boon of confusion or shock in the ranks of their enemy. Given that they were facing an unknown foe, of unknown numbers, they could use any advantage that they could get and there were few more tantilizing than causing disarray.
“No, no, I know you’ll be okay.” Korr’ih spoke, tears were in her eyes, and their faint dark traces were spattered upon the bedsheets which clung to her frame. “Are you sure? I said you could come along, you seemed so worried.” Words came from someone she knew, someone she cared for deeply, from another time. They were spoken as the woman they came from prepared to leave to somewhere. A bag was packed, and was ready to be carried away. “I just had a bad feeling. I don’t know why I did, I just did.” It was the truth, a nagging feeling had come over Korr’ih, telling her that something dire was to take place, something that would leave her in a position of loss, and a failure to perform the obligation which she had accepted within her life as a purpose. “Did it come to you in a dream?” It was a question that was not part of the conversation as Korr’ih remembered, and it was enough of a divergence to send a crawling feeling up the Fyunnen’s guts. “It was more of a whisper really.” Korr’ih replied, her throat tight, as if choking upon frozen air. “Who’s whisper?” It was such a casual question, yet interrogative, prying, why was she prying? She needed to leave. “I don’t know.” It was the truth, Korr’ih did not know where the feeling came from, the feeling she had that day when her beloved charge departed, and never returned. “What about now?” Now, the whisper was stronger, it was tangible, heavy, pressing, but somehow fragile and delicate like the surface tension of a lake. “You’re the one whispering, but you’re gone, and I am far away.” Korr’ih spoke, as a realization grasped her firmly. “You just figured it out. You’re dreaming. I’m dead. You’re a universe away. You have something you must do… but you know in your heart of hearts, my voice is not the one you’re listening to.” A smile framed those words which carried an ominous message from a dead princess. “I know, but what I am hearing, from her, it scares me. It’s not what she should be saying… but even with such ugly words, I know she loves us.” A momentary euphoria struck in that instant, a fraction of a second in which an assumption took place, a realization of meaning, which was snapped away in an instant. Nearing Five Light-Years Distance From Unknown Star System (Eldruid System) Korr’ih’s eyes opened, her pupils contracted sharply, closing her sight away from what she had no greater desire than to see again, but she had no hope of remembering beyond a feeling of certainty and absolution. “All stop.” Korr’ih ordered, as she quickly took inventory of the moment around her. Data streamed into her freshly awakened consciousness from the systems of the Herald, filling in spaces in her thoughts, answering precious questions with what was available in regard to concrete facts which the Herald had available. “Mister Lewis, wake up. We have work to prepare for.” Korr’ih spoke, her tone pleasant but firm, as she directed her attention to the vulpine robot which had served so well in guiding their advance. “Robot, report. Do we have any further information available about this place we are approaching, the people who are there, and what we can possibly expect?” she asked, as she stood poised to formulate a strategy. As if responding to Korr’ih awakening, as opposed to her asking the question, information flooded into Korr’ih’s thoughts in regard to their destination turned target. What she saw was through the ‘eyes’ of the Herald. A star system, the one that was somewhere around five light-years away, the one which they had set their sights upon. Imagery half a decade old stood before her, it was more than enough to show Korr’ih the infrastructure and design of the settlement ahead, and if anything, Korr’ih knew that whoever had designed the structures ahead had something else in mind other than efficiency. As Korr’ih looked upon the rendered display of what was ahead, she made sure that Mister Lewis had access to the same information; information depicting a station which was built more like some sort of small space-bound cathedral crossed with an aged industrial mining platform. “How, utterly, archaic.”Korr’ih mused, as she studied the image of what was ahead, and was ready to piece the image together with insights from the Robot, and assault suggestions from the pirate turned everyday hero.
Herald - Command Compartment As the Commander awoke and gave the order to stop Unit 00000002 compliance came almost instantaneously and without question, the Herald easing out of FTL and coming to hang in relative non-motion to the system which they stalked. As the order was obediently followed an echo of a response passed through Unit 00000002's mind, a memory of a time in which she had offered a casually sarcastic response to another captain in another time and another place. Just who had earned such responses, and why was beyond her for the moment but still, the momentary feeling lingered like an old friend whose relationship had become distant and awkward. Rather than investigating the strange urge, Unit 00000002 complied with the order to report. "Commander, the Herald's psionic sensors have been reporting activity most likely originating from the system that we are approaching. I have been monitoring the signal strength for any deviations or implications of increased activity. At present no direct action has been taken as I did not think it wise to expose the Herald's capabilities prior to engagement." After a short pause, she continued, "Additionally our Lorthet companion has suggested that they know that we are coming." This second statement preceded a direct transcript of the Lorthet's speech in full and unedited, her own response was left out due to perceived irrelevance, however. Data from the psionic sensors was also highlighted for the Commander's assessment, as while Unit 00000002 had received a wealth of information and training from their people prior to their mission she had to honestly admit that interpreting and judging the proper response to the present data was outside of her scope of expertise. Perhaps in another time her friend, a still painful thought, could have made sense of it given her intended role as a sensor station operator and could have made sense of the data. Another lower-priority data package was prepared, containing a summarized overview of the accumulated data which had so far resulted from the translation effort undertaken by herself and "Kit" of the in-system communications data. While still largely incomplete, it was beginning to provide some legible insights into the language and subjects of discussion of those who dwelt quietly in the brown dwarf system ahead. This package was distributed to both the Commander and Mr. Hanley-Lewis-Forde allowing them to browse the broken segments of language and piece together what conclusions they may from the data available. For the moment her useful input was exhausted and Unit 00000002 settled back into her comfortable role of simply listening.
