0006: NEW ARRIVAL BRIEFING

[crux_npcs]

Who: New Arrivals, Graham Baker
Where: Briefing Room
When: Late afternoon, Aprilo 1st
Warnings: None

When awakening, the immediate surroundings are swarming with activity. The people in the medical ward are polite and understanding, but firmly refuse to answer questions until the briefing. They move with a practiced efficiency, already veterans of this kind of thing. The same goes for the robots in the hangars. Either given hospital outfits resembling very comfortable pajamas, drone bodies, or their own bodies, they are escorted by polite, unyielding people in red and black uniforms to the briefing room.

The Briefing room is large. Not enough to accommodate a giant, but spacious enough for several dozen people. The tiles are black and featureless while the walls are nice, soothing colors. The chairs are high-backed and well-cushioned, more like comforting eggs floating a foot or so off the ground than anything else. Set into the ceiling and floor near the front is a large holographic projector. The floor in front of each seat also has a smaller projector, allowing people to see what the bigger device is showing without having to angle for a view. As of now, it merely displays a rotating pyramid.

Three Security personnel, dressed in their red and black uniforms, stand at ease in the rooms in strategic areas. One man stands at the head. Graham Baker, a middle-aged man showing the first signs of balding and wearing a wrinkled business suit, clasps his hands behind his back and smiles.

[Questions to the NPCs will go in the briefing thread. The rest of the post is there for people to mill about and do whatever with. The mods will not be doing hangar/medical awakenings unless it's specifically asked for.]

Comments

[act_of_god]

Right now, Kelly is standing as close to an exit as she can get, eyeing the security guards, Graham Baker, and the others gathered there. She's already made one escape attempt, and seems like she's in the process of formulating a second. her body is tense, in part uncomfortable being on display without her armor as well as coiled to spring at the first sign of trouble.

Even out of armor, she's not exactly discreet; skirting just below seven feet, muscled and marked with precise lines of medical scarring. Her face is young, pale features, dark brown hair, and fierce blue eyes that flick to every corner of the room. She's listening to Baker's every word, expression shifting subtly as she processes it.

It could all be a lie; a brilliant fabrication by the Innies to keep their prisoners from rioting.

[commanderchekov]

[The girl's nervousness caught his attention fast. Warily, Chekov watched the young girl. He had noted her first attempt and had an idea that she was going to make another attempt. One would think she would have learned the first time it wouldn't work out.

If necessary he was prepared to grab her mainly so she wouldn't get hurt or hurt others in the process. Her actions naturally made him curious about her story. Chekov gave a small smile and tried to signal for her to come closer to him to sit down. Maybe if she could view him as a possible friend, she would relax more.]

[act_of_god]

[She catches his eye and gives him a startled expression. She certainly didn't trust that anymore than anything else around here. Still, even a lie from an enemy can give her more information than silence.

Kelly takes note of the security guards and Baker's general attitude before moving carefully over to sit by him, scooting her seat a fraction away from him. Nervous, ready for action, yes, but there's definitely a precision to her movements. For her size, she handles herself with a certain deftness and efficiency of movement.]

[She gives him an expectant look, waiting for him to break the silence before she gives up any information.]

[crux_npcs]

A squat little man steps towards the 7 foot tall woman, all beard and red hair and stubbiness, saying in a deep voice as he approaches her.

"Aren't you a little short for a Space Marine?"

[act_of_god]

She stares down at the little man with a faintly confused expression. Was he being funny? She knew she wasn't the tallest Spartan, like Jorge or Sam, but, well. She was nearly twice of this guy.

"Hasn't stopped me yet." There's a tension to her body that suggests her off-hand comment might be more of threat.

[crux_npcs]

"No doubt of that, no doubt of that." He says, sizing her up and stroking his beard.

"So why are y'with the recent awakees, were you working security on the ship or somethin?"

[act_of_god]

She doesn't answer immediately. There is literally nothing about this guy that she trusts.

"Is there somewhere else I should be?"

[crux_npcs]

He scratches his nose.

"I'm not sure. What unit are you with, anyway?"

[act_of_god]

"Blue Team." It's an immediate response. She hadn't seen or heard anything from John or the others, but while she wasn't sure how things worked here, she had that undying devotion to her team, wherever they were.

oops hi rude robot

[driftlock]

Hnf. So the last big stupid batch of big stupid arrivals had brought like every fraggin' genocidal Senator from Cybertron, which made him really doubt just how fraggin' 'coincidental' half this slag was.

So he's scanning for other Cybertronians. Which normally would be an easy job with all these short squishies, but he'd been shoved in a tiny noodlebot when he'd arrived, so he's got to look for those, too.

Too bad he's not real careful who he bumps into....

[act_of_god]

Kelly has a certain level of situational awareness that comes from early and intense training, and a personal agility that means nothing she does is accidental.

She dodges away from his bump, a hand going out to his shoulder to steady him and press him out of her personal space. She's staring at him with open curiosity, though; he was almost more of a familiar sight than the other 'squishies', considering she was much more comfortable in her robotic-reminiscent armor.

"Careful, there."

[driftlock]

He notices the reflexes. Someone who's spent the last four million years fighting can tell the reflexes and reaction time of a fighter, especially around this place, where so many of the organics moved like they'd never been shot at.

Which tempered what would have been his usual response, his head turning, giving her a long, evaluative look.

"Or you'll...what?"

It's not entirely hostile, more like a challenge or a test. Could there actually be some squishies here who didn't suck?

[act_of_god]

"Or you'll break something."

Certainly not herself, but it's a something of a subtle hint that she's more than capable of taking care of herself. "What ... are you?"

[driftlock]

"Hnf." There's almost a laugh under the sound, because he gets the message. Cute, considering she was, you know, half his height. Still, he'd faced off against mechs twice his size so he had to give respect for the attitude if nothing else. Deadlock might be a jerk, but he wasn't a hypocrite.

"Cybertronian. Decepticon. You know, the good guys."

[act_of_god]

Half his height maybe, but the genetic and biological augmentations she's undergone means that even out of armor she's tougher than the normal human by no small amount.

She regards him carefully as she breaks down his answer. Cybetronian is self explanatory, considering he looks like a talking Pelican troop carrier, almost. Decepticon, Latin, derived from the stem dēceptiō. Infiltration, stealth, spy? "Who are you trying to deceive?"

[sickbays]

[McCoy catches sight of the girl just as she leaves the briefing room, noticing her rigid posture with a quirked brow. Her height seems to surprise him more, especially when he comes walking up to her.]

Hey, nothing coming to get you. [A pause.] Yet.

[Today, he's dressed in his military uniform, the one designating that he's a member of the Crux Fleet. He doesn't act much like an officer, however, with that casual tone of voice and his hands clasped loosely behind his back.

He offers a tiny smirk.]

[act_of_god]

"I would say something already came and got me, considering I'm here." She casts an appraising eye on him, taking in the uniform. "What is the fleet's affiliation with the UNSC?"

[sickbays]

McCoy scrunches his brow together with confusion.

"The UNSC?" His unfamiliarity with the agency is probably an answer in of itself.

[act_of_god]

That's certainly telling.

"Don't worry about it. If you don't know it, it's probably not important." She glances away quickly enough; anyone who wasn't dead knew what the UNSC was, no matter what side of it they were on. She's definitely dealing with a complex slipspace anomaly here.

She looks back and indicates his uniform. "So you're with the fleet."

[sickbays]

And McCoy lets the subject drop just as easily as she lets it go. Doesn't sound important to him, not at the present moment anyway, so he's not going to waste his breath asking about it.

"Yes, a medical officer. Dr. Leonard McCoy."

He doesn't offer his hand to shake, he usually doesn't unless it's a fellow colleague or unless the other person insists.

"You're one of the newly awakened ones, huh?"

[smallest]

He watched her escape attempt with his mouth open in shock. His mandibles twitched nervously for her. He did not want to see anyone hurt. Even though he understood her desire to leave, her actions seemed a little dangerous. All he could think to do was watch her. She looked as if she would try to escape again. What could he do then? If only he knew.

[act_of_god]

Best advice if she tried to escape again would be to just stay out of her way.

Which is probably good advice in general. She wasn't trained to work with others and right now isn't unconvinced she's been hijacked by the Insurrection - the enemies.

Then she catches Francœur watching her and everything changes. She doesn't attack - not yet - but her body immediately tracks through a quick series of subtle changes as her mind kicks into overdive; outwardly, her eyes widen, then narrow, she sucks in breath and holds it, and her body goes rigid with a slight shift in his direction. If she were to spring now, it would be at him.

But she stays any further movement. He looks like an Elite, one of the more dangerous species of aliens she'd been fighting with. He's not acting like an Elite, though. Missing are the terrible roars as Elites attack their prey with a terrifying ferocity. Kelly had seen too many of them continue to shoot at corpses once the life was already gone. This one - whether an Elite or something else entirely - wasn't like that.

She watches him with an intense gaze for a full two minutes before she finally moves. It's more with careful precision than a full out strike; she wants him to see her coming. She wants to see if he'll give her the chance to talk or if there's going to be a smackdown.

[smallest]

Usually the reactions he got from people were more obvious, but he noticed her subtle shifts. None of them looked friendly. He would have worn his mask if he had it, even if there was only a slim chance that it would work.

Not even a minute into her intense watching, he started to feel uncomfortable. His red eyes looked around to see if she was perhaps looking at something else. No, she was definitely watching him. His hands nervously clenched and unclenched. When she approached, his posture straightened. There was nothing malicious with the way he stood. His head tilted to a side, making it obvious that he was only curious to see what she would do next.

[act_of_god]

She's smart enough to understand he's not acting hostile, but she's not about to assume it will stay that way.

She gets up to about a foot from him and draws to a stop, watching in silence for a moment. She can see now that he's definitely quite a bit different from the Elites, but he's still alien enough to keep her from relaxing.

"What are you."

[smallest]

What was he? Well he was a musician, of course. As well as a monster, according to some accusations in the past. Yet without a way to write to her, he could not answer her question.

He held eye contact with her. Despite his appearance, there was something helpless about the way he looked. When he opened his mouth, all that came out were a series of indecipherable chirps. About the only point speaking had here was just to show how pointless it was for him to speak. He knew what she said, what everyone said in their strange language. He just could not speak it.