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crux_fleet2014-06-21 02:59 pm
crux_npcs) wrote in crux_fleet2014-06-21 02:59 pm
Entry tags:
0010: NEW ARRIVAL BRIEFING
Who: New Arrivals, Graham Baker, OPEN
Where: Briefing Room
When: Early morning, Juno 3rd
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.
Two members of Security stand at attention near the front of the room, seeming slightly unhappy to be here. Graham Baker stands at the head of the room with an easy smile.
[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.]
Where: Briefing Room
When: Early morning, Juno 3rd
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.
Two members of Security stand at attention near the front of the room, seeming slightly unhappy to be here. Graham Baker stands at the head of the room with an easy smile.
[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.]
THE BRIEFING
"We here represent the Confederacy of Inhabited Systems. Specifically, we are the 43rd Scutum-Crux Fleet, consisting of a science vessel, two agricultural ships, and seven battleships. Our mission was to explore and found a new colony. This vessel is the Teuberg, a colony ready city-ship that is home to some five hundred thousand beings. And, unfortunately, to you and some others as well." He bows his head apologetically. "Bear with me, here. Over one hundred years ago, we ran into a sixth-dimensional being who dropped us across the galaxy, onto territory claimed by the Wadjit Empire. The Wadjit thought of us as thieves and declared war soon after. Right now, we're still officially at war with the Empire." The holo displays show their current position in the galaxy, with a large red splotch covering several thousand light years surrounding them. It's clearly labelled as the claimed territory of the Wadjit, and it's clear that they aren't getting out any time soon.
"Months ago, we tried an experimental new method for faster than light travel by means of folding space. It involved manipulation of multiple dimensions and an artificial gravity well, which, as you can probably guess, was rather risky." Graham pulls a small orb out of his pocket and aims it at the main display. Equations and proofs rotate slowly through it, looking more like jumbles of symbols than scientific findings. "The experiment failed. Five hundred of our people died and you were dragged here from your own universe and time period. We really didn't mean for that to happen, and some of our greatest minds are working on a way to restore you to your rightful homes as we speak."
He paces a bit, just to get moving. "We don't have enough resources to support everyone if they aren't working. Fleet Admiral Bulsara has ordered that all 'New Arrivals' have two months - sixty days - to adjust and find either employment, training, or registration for school. In return, you will be granted citizenship into the Confederacy until you can go home." He pauses and worries at his tie, frowning slightly. "If you don't do so, he has ordered anyone who has not started work or training by the deadline to be, ah. Left on the nearest neutral space station or habitable planet. Hopefully, we'll never actually have to do that."
He coughs nervously and adjusts his tie. "We will supply you with temporary housing, fabricators to make food and clothing, a comm device, some money to get you started, while any training you need to perform in your chosen field will be provided for free. Again, you can find work in the civilian sector, join our civilian-run militia, enlist in the military, or go to school. If you were military in your own world, we will give you special 'guest' status, allowing you to keep your rank. However, you'll still need some training to familiarize yourselves with our tactics and weapons."
"Whatever your choice, you'll be able to register at the Renaissance Center. When you choose your communications device, it will have a map of the city, as well as instructions on how to get anywhere you want to go, and some information on public transportation. For paperwork's sake, the legal age for adulthood is your racial equivalent for sixteen years old. Until then, education is mandatory, whether it's in school or part of an apprenticeship somewhere. You'll have the option to test out of basic courses if you like, of course. No need to make you go over what you already know."
He smooths his jacket down carefully. "When you leave this room, your personal possessions can be signed for at the left. Any weapons will require a registration for a permit. You can find comm devices of several makes and models a little further down. These devices contact anyone on the Fleet, providing you have their communications code, supply you with maps and information, access our infonet and other information networks broadcast, and other functions that will be explained in a brief tutorial when you first activate and register your devices. They have a range of several hundred miles and can be in nearly any design you like." He pulls out an orb with several glowing lights. "I prefer the spherical models, but it's your choice. They have cubes, flip-tops, ones set on bracelets or bracers, small tablets... It all comes down to your personal likes."
He pockets the device and folds his hands behind his back again. "In addition, we've already had several people wake up. We've included them on your commlinks, so you can skim through that to see if any of your friends or family were brought over with you."
He gives the occupants of the room a big smile. "Alright! Any questions?"
no subject
They gonna make a ****** fuss if I try t' leave?
no subject
If you want to leave, they'll let you. They're only here for, well. Protection. It was thought that some people might get, ah. Excited at the news, shall we say?
[Like that group from a few weeks ago. Sweet Lord, they were a hand full.]
no subject
Ain't a **** of a lot t' get excited 'bout. 'Nother ****** new world 'stead a home.
[Namur shrugs and stands.]
What's yer name, man? Ain't a **** of a lotta people don't **** themselves when they first meet me.
no subject
Graham Baker, sorry. I've been dealing with the new arrivals here for a while now, so I rather think I'm a bit desensitized.
no subject
Sheheh! Niiiice. Guess I'll see y' 'round. Later!