[Action...?] To sleep, perchance to dream: ay, there's the rub

2014-02-15 11:59[personal profile] black_swimmer
black_swimmer: (Default)


For the psychically sensitive among the Fleet, and for some of those just with open hearts and minds, the song comes in dreams and at idle, distracted moments. It creeps in at the edges of thought, the psychic echo of the whalesong bound up with loneliness and longing and fear. It's meant to call to someone, or something—father/teacher/elder/commander/god—but there is no response, and the singer casts the song out again and again over the course of hours and, intermittently, days.

One could try to reach out to that mental connection. In the surreality of dreams, the song edges into the earth and the sky, and the world becomes interjoined with a soft, shifting beach with whispering waves. Awake, the song becomes like a background chorus, and to let it in instead of pushing it away, the ocean and the glimmer of dawn on the water fill the corners of vision, as though waiting for another voice to call out.

More mundanely, one might triangulate, traveling from place to place to feel the strength of the song's psychic presence. It comes from an underlayer of the Teuberg's city, near the apartments for new arrivals. An equipment maintenance area has been retrofitted with a strange set of massive windowless metal tanks and pumps, churning through oxygenated pseudowater. In smaller but still rather large sets of glass tanks, fish and algae and crabs and snails and other marine creatures thrive in an ecosystem far too complex and robust to have developed in only a few days.
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[video]

2014-02-12 22:38[personal profile] weeabhoo
weeabhoo: (speaking//looks like we're ahead of sche)
[OOC: This is a joint post. Jinto's dialog is in dark grey, Lafiel's in blue. Replies may be from either of them or both.]

[Closeup on Jinto and Lafiel next to an observation window. Jinto, as usual, is nervously smiling, knowing he's addressing potentially thousands. Lafiel on the other hand, looks calm and professional -- and a bit annoyed -- as if this is a necessary yet slightly unpleasant task to accomplish.]

Ah, hello everyone. I'm Front Wing Flyer Jinto Lynn, part of the Abh space navy and also on loan to the fleet while I'm here. This is my captain, Deca Commander Lafiel Abriel.

[Lafiel nods at the introduction]

In addition to Front Wing Flyer Lynn and myself, our ship, the Basroil, was also brought in the accident.

[Pan to a ship, floating outside the window. Then back to them.]

It's a destroyer, hundreds of meters long, armed with several point defense guns and one large antiproton main gun, embedded within the body. Normally it requires a crew of 20 to operate. It could be a valuable asset to the fleet. Only there's a small problem with the controls...

Abh warships use an interface that requires both a user with frosh -- the spacio-sensory organ that genetic Abh possess -- and an alpha which connects to the ship's sensors to allow piloting and targeting of weapons.

[Lafiel had paused at 'frosh', as if she had to remember to explain herself. She also gestured to her tiara at the word 'alpha', indicating that was the device in question.]

Obviously, I can pilot Basroil with the existing controls, but I am the only genetic Abh currently present. Thus, the weapons are inoperative using their existing interface.

That means the Basroil can move and fire but not do both at the same time. While most of the crew positions do not require the frosh interface, there are several on the bridge that do, as does piloting the included shuttle.

That's why we need your help. In order to make this ship functional for the fleet's use, we need to either modify the controls to allow for manual control by a genetically unmodified human...oid. Or find volunteers who have interfaces that may be compatible.

Of course, we will be interviewing people before allowing them to use or modify Basroil's controls.

[Which might provide some insight into Lafiel's mood. Someone was a bit territorial about letting strange foreigners on her ship, even if she had obviously acknowledged she needed to. Such "face work" is, of course, Jinto's responsibility. Oh stars Lafiel, please don't scare anyone away, he thinks.]

We can't offer much more than a token compensation. But our gratitude will be considerable. Thank you very much.

[He looks over at Lafiel. Thank them, Captain. People like feeling appreciated.]

Thank you for your attention.
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0001: A New Beginning

2014-02-01 15:58[personal profile] crux_mods
crux_mods: (Default)
Whatever your activities before, they're interrupted by a sudden lurching feeling, like someone's put a hook into the pit of your very being and yanked. There's a brief burst, a brilliantly twisting tunnel? And then silence. Stars fill your vision, along with bodies, machines, and not much else before everything mercifully goes black. The shock of it, more than the lack of air.

And then, there's sound. There's not much at first. Beeping. Lots of beeping. Some of it is irritatingly loud, and apparently it's the cause of a lot of excitement. When vision returns, the first thing to note would be alien writing blinking in your field of vision, displayed on a monitor or a clear bubble somewhere. Alien, but familiar enough for you to read "Awakening". Whatever that means, you're apparently not alone, as people in black and white uniforms are rushing through the large room you're in, the room filled with people hooked up to all kinds of machines. Of course, some of them don't look entirely like people.

All of a sudden, a haggered face fills your field of vision. "Great Shades of Elvis! Another one! Look, please remain calm." The poor nurse turns and starts to fiddle with some of the machines surrounding you. "There's been an accident, but you're okay. Try to stay quiet and don't disturb the other patients. Someone will be with you in a moment." They turn away to shout across the room, as if that wouldn't disturb anyone. "Hoi, Oglaf! Mark this one as alive so Security can take them for the briefing!" He gestures at some official looking people in red and black uniforms assisting other patients into wheelchairs. "Just flag one of them down, they'll take you to the briefing. We'll explain everything. Just don't panic, you're in good hands." He grins and pats your shin. "Welcome to the Fleet, eh? 'scume, someone else is starting to budge and I gotta make sure it's not some poor sot swallowed his tongue again." With that, he leaves you alone with your thoughts and the bright lights.

[Medical Arrival | Hangar Arrival | Briefing | Post-Briefing 1 | Post-Briefing 2]
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