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Insatiable Curiosity (The Reboot)

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  • The winch Sansiqual and his crew set up was a tripod affair, its feet fitted with powerful magnetic floor grapnels. The winch's cable was fitted to Daryn by means of a super strong five-point harness.



    Even so, it was everything Daryn was able to do to maintain any kind of control in his descent down into the air reclamation chamber. The air current was constant, and it was unbelievably strong. However, once Daryn had been lowered a few meters, the cable from which he was dangling singing under the force of the wind's constant vibration, his suit locked onto a ladder. It was a simple matter then, to use his suit's thrusters to move toward the ladder.

    Or... not so simple. Almost immediately Daryn started getting overload warnings from his suit's thrusters. The wind was doing everything it could, or so it seemed, to keep him from reaching the ladder. It was blowing from an oblique direction from the direction of travel Daryn needed to take to reach the ladder. At last, however, if with Daryn's suit giving him warnings verging on red, his right gauntlet at last was able to reach out and grasp the ladder. Still, it remained a maddeningly powerful maelstrom which buffeted Daryn's suit. At least now, however, Daryn was able to turn off his suit's thrusters and let them cool.

    One positive outcome of all of this wind, was that almost the instant his suit exposed its heat sinks, the wind carried away the excess heat almost immediately.

    The rest was up to his suit's servo motors. The wind proved very little encumbrance to those. So long as he was able to maintain contact with the ladder, Daryn would be like a rock over which the wind could only blow. His target, the device, was reading as caught in one of the mesh units, caught between two of its fins. Reaching it though, was going to be problematic; the device was lodged in the fins some eight meters starboard of the ladder onto which Daryn clung. He would need to let go the ladder in order to make an attempt to reach it.

    Both Zeeke and Sansiqual looked down into the hatch with concern writ large on their faces. One of the real dangers to Daryn wasn't the wind, but a massive electrical potential it would build up in the fin assemblies. When high velocity winds pass over any kind of smooth surface, especially if that surface was metal, static electricity was generated. The higher the wind, the greater for potential of charge.

    "What do you know about that suit, little mate?" Sansiqual asked Zeeke.

    Zeeke turned his head upward and fixed the Master Chief with a worried expression. "I'd say if he's good and grounded, he could take a million volts without too many worries. The suit will act as a Faraday cage to protect him. But we're talking about a spark here, a way powerful arc. The heat may penetrate his armor. At the very least, it may fry some of his circuits."

    "Aye," Sansiqual said, agreeing with the little cat. "You four." Sansiqual had turned and addressed his four crewman. "Make ready to pull him up the moment I give the word. If he goes limp down there, we'll need to pull him up in a hurry."

    "He won't be happy if he gets pulled up without getting the device," Zeeke put in worriedly.

    "The device be damned," Sansiqual growled. "If he's cans gets it, all good and right, I say. But we ain't riskin' nary a feather on that head o' his, and he can shout about it ta make the whole ship shake after if he wants. We ain't losin' our Commander down there! So you lot keep those damned ears open and await my command, I say!"
    Rick Canaan's Signature
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    Decency makes more friends than Dialogue
    Good Attitude is better than Grammar Aptitude!

    Open ContentInsatiable Curiosity Roleplay Info

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    • ((OOC: Sorry Dusty, you might have eaten a word or two, in the last sentence of your last post, as I'm not quite sure what you'd had in mind there, or maybe I derped out, which also is quite possible.))


      “If I were to rehearse my 'defence speech' that I could give to Mister Canaan, I would point out that it was the League, and the government of Dyniar (that was an effect of an unjust and violent action) that branded her a pirate, while others would call her a freedom fighter... I believe that the Dyniar people have erected a monument commemorating the destruction of the joint fleets that in effect lead to their liberation. It stands in front of their capitol building. I could present evidence that the event that lead to the involvement of the League's task force, the destruction of the relief convoy, was in fact orchestrated by the Dyniar Liberation Navy. Precisely because they wanted help in dealing with the 'pirates'. And that no one in the League that was intrested in the matter thought to look at the evidence too closely because it could confirm Dyniar Navy involvement, and they wanted the system pacified fast and efficient. My acquaintance never attacked civilian targets, focusing only on the Dyniar Liberation Navy materiel and bases. She knew that good reputation is important when you are a freedom fighter. Finally I could point out that we can change our point of view on this whole case. If we treat her not as a pirate but as a combatant that once was opposing the league, but now can be an ally against a bigger threat, then an idea of collaboration is not so preposterous. After all, history is full of examples of former enemies becoming allies when situation changes. I would hope that we are able to put our petty squabbles behind us in the face of the larger threat.”

      His ears flopped a little, his expression saddened. “You have a point, that she would have trouble working with the League, trust issues would be understandable, but that why I think full disclosure would be paramount. She is an idealist, if she realises the threat our enemy poses to the galaxy, then she would work with you, not with the league, but with fellow sophonts, fighting for survival. I just hope, that our situation is not as dire, as my worries would have me believe.” A console sitting on the table gave of a pleasant chime, and Salvatore excused Garran for a moment while he briefly checked what it wanted from him. When he finally looked at the Akalian, he was smiling again.

      “Speak of the Rohkah and he shall come! It seems that we will have an opportunity to brief Mister Sohdakin quite soon, my ship just informed me, that Mister Sohdakin had entered the hangar and he seems to be heading this way. Quite fortunate indeed, as I think the lasagne is just about ready, and there is no way I could eat it all by myself! I do hope you will stay as well, naturally. Like you said, we have a briefing to do! I'll get more wine!”
      Terrapun's Signature
      "A smart machine will first consider which is more worth its while: to perform the given task or, instead, to figure some way out of it."
      Stanisław Lem "The Futurological Congress"

      "The universe is probably littered with the one-planet graves of cultures which made the sensible economic decision that there's no good reason to go into space--each discovered, studied, and remembered by the ones who made the irrational decision."
      xkcd

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      • ((Sorry, I was probably a bit vague! Sodahkin to the rescue though ))

        Garran nodded politely as the Fox conferred with with his tablet. He shifted in his seat as the savory smells of cooking started to permeate the room. He had to admit, he wasn't usually one for eating but whatever the Fox was cooking was starting to smell delicious. He quickly shifted his thoughts from food to the task at hand. Salvatore was probably correct, if this woman was the idealist she was made out to be then she would logically be drawn to helping them in their fight. She would come around with time, the Admiral might take a little bit more convincing. Even if their impromptu alliance could be forged, holding it would be difficult. Old war wounds healed slowly, and nobody at the table would trust each other. The Akalian sighed and rubbed the bridge of his snout. These diplomatic high-wire acts made him genuinely wish he had signed up for the Battle Dress division instead. Less nuance, more explosions.

        Salvatore looked up from his table with a grin on his face. "Speak of the Rohkah and he shall come! It seems that we will have an opportunity to brief Mister Sohdakin quite soon, my ship just informed me, that Mister Sohdakin had entered the hangar and he seems to be heading this way. Quite fortunate indeed, as I think the lasagne is just about ready, and there is no way I could eat it all by myself! I do hope you will stay as well, naturally. Like you said, we have a briefing to do! I'll get more wine!"

        Garran smiled as well and took one more drink of his wine. "That we do. I'd rather any grievances folks might have be aired before the shooting starts. You have a fast and discreet way of contacting our candidate correct? The Operation is set to begin in two days. The Curiosity's marines can keep order for a few days past that. But if we wait too long the locals are going to start getting reckless. If the Admiral signs off on this plan we need her on a ship as soon as possible."
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        • The large Rohkah winked at M'nonk almost playfully "Yes, I know about your spacial disorientation. I do not intend on putting you or anyone in a situation that they can not handle. Despite this, I was hoping you might have some tactics in mind for Zero-G maneuvers. If our illustrious spook, Garran is not able to woo the Station and its inhabitants.....we may have quite a fight on our paws. I pray that it will not come to pass, however, I want to plan for such a contingency. I plan on hitting the station from inside and out. Last I checked, the station's outer defenses are anti-ship, not anti-troop. Not to mention if our IT crew has the skills they claim, we may knock those defenses out of commission if needed." Sohdakin reached out and helped the Elk get the massive shotgun on his shoulder once more. "I have faith that you can come up with some solid battle plans. If my idea's are crap, do not sugar coat it. My pride can recover, dead Marines can not."

          "Enjoy your supper and R&R" he called out as the Elk made his way down the corridor.

          It took Sohdakin a bit longer than he hoped to get to the hanger where the Stromboli was being housed. It seemed that some floor closures had caused several trains to get re-routed and there was a bit of a backlog of passengers trying to get out and about to enjoy the peace while it lasted. A bit of a frown formed on the Rohkah's maw at how empty the hanger was. He recalled when he first arrived on the Insatiable Curiosity, the hanger was filled to the brim with all manner of ships. From small one man cruisers to exotic yachts, it was a sight to behold and he could even remember the hanger chief yelling at him to stop gawking and get his large draconic ass out of the way.

          When Sohdakin spotted the Stromboli, his smile returned as the ship did not appear to have changed much since he last saw it. It felt like ages ago that he last saw the white ship. He gingerly ran an open talon along its hull as he made his way to the entrance ramp. Sohdakin did not bother knocking as he knew that his presence was more than likely already known, the moment he stepped foot into the hanger. The smell of Salvator's cooking wafted from the ship the moment the door hissed open.
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          • Daryn, with much effort finally made it onto and down the ladder. It would have been a lot easier had he extended a shield bubble around the suit, that would have dampened the wind considerably, but he’d need all the charge in his shield emitters to get to the device. Despite the fact that it was only 8 meters away, he would have to use his shields to create what would effectively be a wind-break made of energy.

            His suit’s RI informed him that it would be more effective to create a larger field with a shallower angle than it would be to create a smaller field at a steeper angle. He looked over the numbers and had to agree. He extended the shield out from his suit. It sprouted out like a wave, sixteen metres out and extending upwards three metres. The drain on his energy reserves was shockingly high. As soon as the field was fully up, he let go of the ladder and dashed the eight metres, using his thrusters to get him there even faster.

            Now would be the tricky part. Harnessing that considerable electrical energy without killing himself. “I’m about to discharge a massive static buildup. Configure appropriately.”

            “Acknowledged. Do you wish to maintain the shield?” it asked.

            “Yes” Daryn answered simply.

            “Very well. Energy sink aperture at maximum, shockwave dissipation system is online.” came the calm, cool, only slightly robotic feminine voice.

            Daryn could imagine Sansiqual and Zeeke’s looks of concern as he got to the stuck Maser. Unfortunately what he would do next would probably not help matters. He considered radioing them, but decided he didn't want to risk the emissions from the comms causing the discharge to happen too soon.

            The systems were ready, so there was no time like the present. With five-percent left in his shield reserves, Daryn reached out and raised his left hand towards the ceiling. Two electrodes had extruded from his fingertips there. He knew any moment now he’d be hit by a significant arc of static energy. The distance it would travel through the air to his extended “lightning rod” would depend on how much charge had built up. When he got to a little over half a metre away from the fin assembly, the charge jumped from the fin assembly to his collector with a loud crack. His RI immediately shunted that charge back into the shield emitters. Half a metre through air, that was roughly 1.5 million volts he’d just discharged. Which meant he had about half a million volts playing over his suit at the moment that he needed to get rid of. Daryn lowered his arm and crouched down to touch the floor with his collector. The charge jumped to the ground with a snap. Then he stood and went for the Maser.

            Now, he yanked the device from between the two fins where it had lodged itself. It took three tries before he could free it. Once he had, he stuffed it into a malmetal compartment he’d opened at his hip. After the discharge the shield had briefly shot back up to 100%, but since the wind was constant, it began to drain again quickly. By the time he’d stowed his prize, his shield wind-break had dropped back down to 70%.

            He turned and ran back to the ladder, boosting his run with his thrusters once again. No sooner had he grabbed the ladder and begun climbing up than his shield ran out of energy and he was again buffeted by the wind. He had a firm grip now, so he wasn’t worried about falling off. He crested the top of the ladder and closed the hatch behind him. He looked to Zeeke and Sansiqual, “Well... That was exciting!”
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            • Lieutenant Victorious was stoic as she observed the effect her comment had on the traveller.

              “It was some time ago,” she conceded, with the ghost of a shrug, “perhaps my memory failed me on the matter.”

              At that, Victorious stood and approached the kingrian, offering a seat with a sweeping hand.

              “But as far as the behaviour of this ship and her crew goes, I can assure you that we follow all necessary rules and regulations. We don’t permit anarchy aboard this vessel, as I’m sure you’ll have noticed. If people set a foot out of line, they will be dealt with accordingly. You can tell that to your politicians, wherever they may be.”

              Then the caribou turned to grab a drink from the table nearby – just water, as befit an officer on active duty – and as she quickly gulped the glass dry she offered another to Kel'Jec. Regardless of whether or not the second glass was taken, Victorious slammed her own down onto the table. She had initially dismissed the offer of “assistance”, but then she realised that was the mindset of last month. Many had died since then. Many were needed to replace them.

              There were still jobs to be done.

              “If that is the kind of reassurance you were hoping for, then I suppose I should give you a chance to explain yourself in more detail. What sort of assistance did you have in mind, exactly?”

              *

              Haheen couldn’t help but turn up his nose when the door slid open to reveal the horrific scene beyond. He was used to sights like this. Or… at least, he had stopped feeling immediately sick each time.

              But the smells never got any better.

              The rat listened to Beauregard’s summaries and explanations, noting the dog’s expertise that was evident in everything from his analysis to his manner of movement around the room. Yet still, Haheen tried to take in everything he could about the crime scene. Even the most attentive investigator might miss a crucial clue without a second pair of eyes. That was something Haheen knew from experience.

              He traced the scar along his neck silently.

              “Fantastic work,” said Haheen once Beauregard had finished, “Is there anything we can do to rule out one of those options? Is that hoofprint consistent with the weight of a caribou? Are there different types of wounds that might indicate more than one build of fist or hoof having been used against the deceased? And now that we have a time of death, is there any footage from the corridor that would place someone at the scene of the crime?”
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              • Approach offers a soft growl which is quickly quelled, "Apologies." Her tail flicks return rather quickly. Whilst the confidence may be lowered, her caution and sass seems to be returning.

                A moment after Victoria took a seat, Kel takes a deep breathe. Only releasing and loosing a portion of her tension as she takes a seat. She does, however, take the water and drinks it. She drinks it with a mild greed, the look of some relief as she cools down.

                She ahems, "I am, in total and rank..." She takes a moment to mull something over, before saying, "Ami'ren Pac'nati."

                She licks her lips and flicks her tongue, "Ma-reen Cape-tain. Once more, apologies. Ga-lac-tic Com-mon is an anno-ying lan-guage. Marine Cape-tain within League stand-ards. I pri-mare-lilly deal with lung-range en-gage-ment, sc-ou-ting sor-ties and more... stealth based sit-u-ations that de-sire some-one with the cape-ability."

                Her tail flicking increases as does her frustration, "Dogo Ris'pit! Eya teha moc'nom."

                She tongue flicks some more, she seems to mildly dislike speaking in Galactic Common. She sighs, a she headtilts, her hair now hiding her eye patch, "I am bas-ic-ally, a forward op-er-a-tor. Snee-I-per. Sni-per." She grumbles some, "Do you have an auto-mated trans-lay-tor? Speaking Com-mon for any per-iod than for gree-ting is tru-bul-some."

                Her gaze mildly intensifies as she glares, one could assume she is angered but not because of Victoria but because of her own lacking capability. She seems to have plenty enough pride to be so.

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                • "All worthy questions, Master at Arms," the bloodhound said. "but one at a time, and systematically." Upon saying this, Beauregard held up a small, plastic baggy. It was sealed with red tape. In it resided a single hair.

                  "This will be taken to the lab for analysis. As to the footprint..."

                  Beauregard moved past Haheen, headed back into the main area of the quarters, and where the murder had apparently taken place. Placing the packaged hair in his case, he stooped down over the latex square he had earlier placed over the footprint.

                  "This will collect data of the footprint down to the molecular level. But I think I may be able to give a reasonable guess before the lab has had a chance to give it a proper looking over."

                  That said, the bloodhound took out a small device and waved it briefly over the latex square. The device beeped once after a few seconds and shone a green light. Following which, Beauregard ripped the square up from the floor. He did so with utter lack of ceremony. The square deformed as a result of the sudden pull, and even flopped up upon itself, even over the tops of Beauregard's fingers, before coming to dangle from his fingers. Standing then, he turned and slapped it, with equal lack of ceremony onto the flat surface of the quarters' table.

                  "Now that it has set," Beauregard explained right after doing this, "you could ball it up in your fist, and it would maintain the impression it took." He gave Haheen a brief, if naturally lugubrious smile as the rat drew near. "The miracle of modern materials, yes?"

                  Beauregard smoothed the square out. As he did, both he and Haheen found themselves looking at the perfect casting of the footprint on the floor. And sans any of the blood into which the print had been impressed.

                  "For one, I can tell you straight away that the mark was made by a real hoof. See the striations in the rims of the hoof here?"

                  Beauregard pointed them out. They were minute but nonetheless recognizable crosshatch patterns in the curved soles of the hoof. They looked organic. Moreover, they were so intricate that it made it impossible to believe that someone could have forged them.

                  "But more important than those, there are these." The hound pointed out what looked like minute, curving fins extending outward from around them rims of the print. "These are splash patterns made by the hoof at the point of the owner's step. They're somewhat muted, because when the print was made, the blood was still malleable enough to permit the overlap to fold partially back down into the surrounding blood. Nonetheless, it is plain to see that this impression was made by an impact of weight, and not just a model that was pressed down into the blood."

                  Beauregard turned his head to look at Haheen. "This impression was made by a real person stepping where the print was found."

                  Then a shrug. "As to the elk hair, it is too early to say. An accomplice, perhaps? Or maybe it was planted? Or maybe our victim had a friend who was an elk, and the hair was left when last this elk visited. We have DNA records of all aboard. When the hair is tested, I find myself fairly certain we will have fewer questions and a few more answers. I can say with some certainty though, that we have at least a dozen elk aboard. We have only one caribou, however."

                  Beauregard looked pointedly at Haheen. "She is in your department, I believe, the head of ship patrol?" He nodded, knowing this to be the case. "So unless another caribou turns up, I suggest you consider her a prime suspect. Even if she wasn't the one who committed the murder, it is doubtless she is aware of it. "
                  *****



                  Sansiqual scowled down at Daryn. "Fun ye say," he said, nonplussed. "Sticking your bare arm in a tank of electric eels'd prolly be fun too, wouldn't it?" He scowled harder. "The Cap'n'd have my head mounted on the prow o'this ship if he knew I'd let you go down there in the first place - and for what? Some devil of a trinket?"

                  Sansiqual turned that scowl down on Zeeke. "At least tells me that thing works!" he grumbled. "Cause if it don't, I might just need to turn a bird over my knee for a bit o'you-know-what, scarin' the sheen off my horn like a blessed lunatic like he done!"

                  Zeeke's response was to snicker. Sansiqual was the only person aboard ship who could speak as he wished to everyone on board, including the Captain, which sometimes he was noted to do. And get away with it, yet! But to his credit, the big rhino never did it from just pure outrage or annoyance. He did it because he cared too much not to. Him giving Daryn the dressing down he just did, meant he cared for the bird, at lot.

                  The crewmen and Daryn's two guards were being prudently silent.

                  Sansiqual's scowl deepened. "Well what's you laughin' at then, furball?! Does it work or doesn't it?" He turned those obsidian eyes of his back up on Daryn. "Well let's out with it then, and see! Cause I'd hate ta think you almost sent me to visit with my dear sweet grandmother to no purpose!"
                  Rick Canaan's Signature
                  Confucius Horsie Say:
                  Politeness is more important than Punctuation
                  Decency makes more friends than Dialogue
                  Good Attitude is better than Grammar Aptitude!

                  Open ContentInsatiable Curiosity Roleplay Info

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                  • When Sohdakin entered the ship Salvatore was already waiting for him, he welcomed the Rohkah with a warm grin and gave him a manly hug (he appropriated one of the supply crates just for the task). “It is good to finally see you under normal circumstances, and I see you bear gifts! Nonna Salvatore would be proud of you! I'm afraid that your rocket fuel would have to wait for a while. Mister Garran is here, he wants to recruit me on a mission to conquer Treffenpunkt, quite ambitious I must say...” The fox lead Sohdakin to the main room of the ship, all the while referring to him what they were talking about with Garran earlier. So by the time the Rohkah could greet the Akalian and sit in one of the comfy armchairs, that readjusted itself to fit his bulk, he had a pretty good idea what the two man were talking about. Soon, additional table ware and decanters reinforced their brethren that were dutifully defending the honour of their ship. Amongst them a large decorative dish with the lasagne large enough to feed several hungry predators. Fresh basil leaves decorated the course made from hand freshly made pasta, fresh tomatoes, vat grown meat of the finest quality, and an assortment of cheeses and other high quality ingredients. It looked like a labour of love and skill, if the fox put even half as much effort designing weapons and other technology as he invested in his cooking, then they had to be quite potent indeed.

                    “I hope you will enjoy that small treat, and forgive me for talking business during, but I want to settle the matter quickly one way or the other, so we could prepare accordingly.” He turned to the Akalian and continued. “To answer your last question, yes I have a secure link with her via quantum encrypted hypercom. I can contact her as soon as Curiosity finishes the current jump. I should tell you now what my acquaintance would bring to the table should you wish to invite her to your party.” He carved himself a sizeable piece of the lasagne and licked his canines smiling.

                    “See, not all the folk inhabiting Treffenpunkt are happy with the current management, for various reasons, form the fact that they are bad for business, draw too much attention to the station to the simple fact they are pricks. Knowing that, she planted her people on board the station, recruited others, and started brewing a revolution, waiting for a good moment to strike.” He impaled a piece of the dish with his fork.

                    “Her people can provide you with up to date intel on the station, sabotage key systems when need be, and when you share your IFF codes and identification phrases with them they could operate alongside your marines, so you can take the station together. Reducing the manpower needs, hopefully making the whole thing easier, and putting a spin on that invasion thing. As you would no longer be invaders, but allied troops helping the people of Treffenpunkt retake the station from the hands of the despots. She also has quite capable private fleet that could help you with space operations, and since a lot of those vessels can dock to the station prior to the operation without raising any eyebrows she can not only put quite a lot of boots on the 'ground' but also give your troops an alternate means of exfiltration if everything goes horribly wrong. Plan for the worst, hope for the best, right? I would imagine that one of her conditions to help you would be the guarantee the independence of Treffenpunkt from League control, it could not only help smooth some ruffled local feathers, but would also allow the station to do what it does best, be shady... but under the new management that works for us. Instead of being a resource hog and a constant head ache for your occupation force. I think that it all is quite reasonable, wouldn't you agree?”
                    Last edited by SliceOfDog; 3 days ago. Reason: Changing spelling
                    Terrapun's Signature
                    "A smart machine will first consider which is more worth its while: to perform the given task or, instead, to figure some way out of it."
                    Stanisław Lem "The Futurological Congress"

                    "The universe is probably littered with the one-planet graves of cultures which made the sensible economic decision that there's no good reason to go into space--each discovered, studied, and remembered by the ones who made the irrational decision."
                    xkcd

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                    • It was a good thing the helmet of Daryn’s suit was opaque, because otherwise they would have all seen him blush. A dressing-down from Sansiqual usually meant you had done something immensely stupid. Thinking about it, Daryn did have to give the Rhino’s words weight, as if he’d been slower in getting to the maser or getting back from it, he’d likely be flopping around on the end of the tether, at least up until the strain on the line became too great and it broke.

                      On the other hand, though he could’ve perhaps done things differently, it had gone well, and that is what was important for the moment. He looked to Sansiqual and nodded, “This is the second of a pair of these maser units.” he looks down to Zeeke, “If you study your model, from where I got it from, do you think this was ditched there, or deliberately put there?” he asked as he brought a hand to the pouch at his waist which flowed open and let him pull the unit out.

                      “This is part of an investigation into the sabotage of the ship.” he said in explanation, “So it’s a very important little gadget. As to whether it works still, well, we’ll find out in a bit.”

                      He extended two filaments from his left fingertips and brought the device to them. They connected to the maser’s diagnostic port and began feeding information to his suit’s RI.

                      The first thing he noticed was that the device was indeed still operational. The second thing he noticed was that it had almost no charge left in its power cell. If it were transmitting from here, through all of that material, that would certainly be consistent. “It looks like it can be used again. It also looks like it’s running a custom firmware version.” he handed the device over to Zeeke, along with its twin. “There is no way I am bringing these out with me with unknown firmware on them. Would you mind working with Chuck to reflash these to their manufacturer software and then modify them for our trip to the station?”

                      When Zeeke gave his ascent, he turned back to Sansiqual, “How easy would it have been to just shut the air reclamation system down for 3 minutes while I went down?” he asked, for two reasons. One Sansiqual would understand as acknowledging his gaffe. The other would be because if the device had been placed there, someone would have likely had to do exactly that to place it, which of course, would be logged. "As to the electricity I handled. My suit can handle that much, I knew that any charge coming off those fins would be low amperage. I wouldn't want to take a jolt like that without the suit, mind you. That kind of voltage, would still kill someone unprotected."

                      He nodded to the door, “Let’s get out of here, it’s really loud in here.”
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                      • "Oh, I know the importance of it, lad," Sansiqual assured Daryn. He looked a little abashed, himself, all talking to his commander that way. He patted the bird's armored shoulder. His big, beefy hand came onto the armor with a muted thump and a clank. "Just if'n yer plannin' to do something like this in the future..."

                        The big rhino grinned.

                        "Just ask to make sure I's wearing my depends next time, afore you do!"

                        Following that, Sansiqual appeared to consider Daryn's question about shutting down the reclamation system. "We probably could," he said at last. "But it'd make things mighty stale, ship-wide, if we did. That unit is one of four that scrubs CO2 from the ship's air. We could shut it down, if not for very long, but it make things very uncomfortable for everyone if it was off for more than a few minutes. Add to that, lad, if you're thinking to find a body or some such down there, I'd give up that notion. If anybody disposed of a body down there, it'd be gone in hours. Also, my guess is, somebody tossed your doohicky down there to get rid of it, hoping the system's high air pressure and stuff would degrade it. Or figured maybe nobody'd have the guts to go down there. Or if the reclamation unit got shut off, they'd be provided some warning. Nah, lad, my guess is, they just used the unit as a way to handily get rid of this thing. They couldn't throw it out an airlock. Can't open one of those without setting off alarms and prompting vid records. The hatches down into these things, though, get accessed by maintenance all the time. There'll be a time and date stamp on when the hatch was opened, but little else. And I don't think the Captain'll give the okay to turn the unit off just to go fishing. I know for certain sure, the crew wouldn't appreciate it being turned off. This whole section of the ship'll start smelling like a sewer in seconds."

                        With that, Sansiqual turned and got the crew busy stowing the four-legged winch they'd brought and set up for Daryn's adventure. For a few minutes, it was organized chaos while they worked. But at last, they and the winch were gone, Sansiqual's footsteps bearing him around a corridor and out of sight around its bend.

                        Zeeke studied the device after the crew had gone. He was squatting and had it in the floor, along with its counterpart. He spent a few minutes doing something with both devices with some of his equipment. At last, he looked up at Daryn and said, "Nah, they're safe enough. Pretty much what you see is what you get; they're a paired communications device. The firmware was set up to keep ship's sensors from picking up on them, and that's all. Typical clandestine operations setup. I can, however, tell you who wrote the firmware."

                        This made the two guards blink down at the tiny feline. Likely Daryn, too.

                        "Sure," Zeeke said, unconcerned with the attention. "There's only a half a dozen people in our crew who have the skill to write custom stuff like this. I'm one. You're one. Chuck thinks he's one, but he couldn't code his way out of a litter box. There is one other person in our division who has the skill, and I've seen their stuff all over the ship. That same fix was used to slot the custom code into these devices' architecture. Kind of like a signature." Zeeke gave a shrug and looked up at Daryn. "Jesse wrote the code for the devices."

                        Zeeke grinned then. "However, lil miss Jesse is as smart as she is pretty."

                        Zeeke took up his small pad. It was a regular sized pad to him, if very small to everyone else.

                        "She left a note in the firmware using DOC plus plus." He swiped the pad. Daryn got a notification on his, telling him there was a new file on it awaiting his approval.

                        Daryn would know immediately what 'DOC plus plus' was. It stood for 'Daryn's Own Code'. It was a computer language he'd written himself to help make many of the quite alien systems on the Insatiable Curiosity pair up with League technology, which previous to the introduction of his code, was proving more than a little nightmarish.

                        "She wrote the fix for that cougar who's up in medical right now. Devon Denarious, the one who tried to assassinate the Captain. When she wrote it, she doubtlessly believed she was just doing a favor for someone in security. But you know Jesse. She does everything right. She left this tidbit here just in case. Turns out, her just-in-case was in this instance, well founded."
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                        • The large Rohkah blinked in surprise as he was not expecting Salvatore to be standing right at the entrance on a large crate with his arms open for a hug. None the less, Sohdakin placed the box down and returned the greeting, doing his best not to hug the fox too tightly and crush him in the process.

                          "Mmmmm, it has been a while no? I am surprised you did not come down to the Battle Dress bay to see what it is I have gotten myself into" he said with a soft content rumble in his voice. "Yes, I did bring you something" he brought the box up to hand to the fox "As promised, I am a dragon of my word. Just, please, be very careful to who you serve this too please?"

                          Sohdakin followed Salvatore further into the Stromboli, his head nodding as he listened to all that the fox had to say. "While yes the Insatiable Curiosity does fly under the League banner now, she will know that it did not for quite some time. I am sure she will understand the situation and not judge us for it. Well, based on what you say of her. Wish I could go with you when you meet this freedom fighter. You get all the fun" he teased.

                          A broad smile was plastered on his maw for most of the route they took to the main room. That smile, however, quickly faded the moment he spotted the former League spook....Garran. A distasteful gruff escaped his throat, it seemed he was about to say something and decided against it as he did not want to ruin Salvatore's mood. Sohdakin had never made it a secret his dislike for the League, especially after what they tried to pull on the Rohkah Empire. The League quickly learned that the Rohkah Empire was not one to play the political games that many other systems partook. Instead of dredging up ill feelings, he pushed it all aside and took a seat.

                          Sohdakin waited for Salvatore and Garran to be served first as he would probably consume most if not the remainder of the Lasagna. He took a few bites of the lasagna, enjoying the symphony of flavors that Salvatore put into his pasta dish. He had gotten a few bites in while the other two continued their conversation, not wanting to interrupt Salvator's conversation. When the two seemed to come to a pause in their conversation, Sohdakin put his fork down and cleared his throat.

                          "Whatever it is you two plan on doing to get Station Treffpunkt without much of a fuss works. I would hate to have to step in" he said while cleaning his maw and talons with an over-sized napkin before continuing. "I will tell you both right now, when I do step in, it will be without finesse or decorum. My objective will be to eliminate any threats and secure critical systems aboard the station as quickly and efficiently as possible." he looked from Salvatore to Garran sternly. "As much as it may seem that I would want to do this, I would rather see you both succeed. I just wanted to ensure you two understood what will happen should you two fail at your main objective. Ultimately, the Admiral will decide when and where I step in so it is he you have to convince and not me." he kept his intent gaze upon Garran as he had not really had the opportunity to size the Akalian up in person. "I hope you are as good as your file claims you to be. How we obtain Station Treffpunkt depends on you and your 'skills'. Salvatore, I know and trust. You, however, I do not"

                          Sohdakin looked back to Salvatore and nodded his broad head

                          "If an assault is what is needed, we can easily provide support to these Freedom Fighters if that is the agreed course of action. My Marines are quick to adapt to any situation so if we have to run a battle plan on the fly with this 'Scourge of the Dyniar System', it will not be a problem at all"
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                          • Victorious met Kel’s gaze, and for the first time the caribou allowed a genuine smile. It seemed that the proud King’ras may just be winning her over.

                            “I’d offer to speak to you in your own tongue, but after all this time I’m… ah… ont yev’r dogo?” She chuckled, “I’m not even sure if that was right. A universal translator is probably the right way to go.”

                            Having said so, Victorious strolled over to one of the security helmets hanging over the edge of a locker. This one had been modified to allow for her antler, and as she slapped it into the back of her head it snapped into place, leaving only her eyes clear as a visor slid up to reveal them.

                            This will translate what I speak into your tongue,” the caribou explained in a translated voice that was only slightly robotic, “while I will hear anything you say to me in common. So please, speak freely as to what you feel you can offer the ship. If you convince me… I might just try to secure you some kind of position on board…

                            *

                            Haheen nodded as he attentively took in the information Beauregard was passing along to him. Unfortunately, it was looking rather clear at the moment.

                            The rat carefully retraced his steps, the way the bloodhound had shown him earlier, and made his way out to Yanktee.

                            “Captain, I’m going to need you to send out an order for every elk on board to be brought in for questioning. Treat them with respect, the majority or even all of them will be innocent, but better to be safe while we wait for the results of our tests. I don’t want anyone able to accuse us of needless force, though; it must start as a request to follow our officers, rather than an arrest. I’m happy to apologise personally to any innocent suspects afterwards for wasting their time. I’d like that to be all I’m apologising for.

                            “After that is underway… the two of us need to go visit Lieutenant Victorious…”
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                            • *After a moment of glaring at the helm, her gaze soften as she offers a soft nod. "Nathk oyu, sti papcreideat." (Thank you, its appreciated.) She sighs, and quirks a brow, "Royu Kingrian snit oto dab." (Your Kingrian isn't too bad.) She flicks her hand gently, dismissing, "Sti ont rfo reevy eon." (Its not for everyone.)

                              The predatory hunger now seemingly has vanished, leaving behind a stern gaze, "Who ysi yti hath eya amy yto nocnivec oyu?" (How is it that I am to convince you?) She shuffles some in her seat, her tail having stopped flicking and has become completely still as her whole form has. Her eye steady and still, just as the rest of her. If one didn't know better, she'd seem as one of the dead. After shifting in her seat, her hair has come to rest, revealing her scars and eye-patch.

                              "Eya doulc letl oyu yfo aym limaityr racere, doulc letl yfo aym nacl racere... erp'phas letl yfo aym bol'lag fedseen cefr racere, hic'why aym stom pexnasevi racere." (I could tell you of my military career, could tell you of my clan career... perhaps tell you of my gobal defensive force career, which is my most expansive.)

                              She seems a bit saddened upon speaking of the clan and defensive forces, obviously some history there. "Sti layl learevit yot yem. Layl King'ras trast heirt raceres tay eth eag yfo 16." (Its all relative to me. All King'ras start their careers at the age of 16.) She shrugs,

                              Whilst speaking Kingrian, she speaks plenty faster and more pointedly. Victorious would note that previous Kingrians would speak slower and with, oddly enough, more dramatic flair.

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                              • Garran smiled at the big Rohkah, showing a good deal of fang. The gesture was hilariously token given the relative size difference, but basic masculinity had protocols for situations like these. Ground-pounders always reacted the same to his presence, whether they be League Marines or not. Still, he sensed the animosity radiating off the Rokah a mile away. No doubt he carried a long seated grudge. The Akalian flexed his hand before reaching forward and helping himself to another slice of lasagna. "With Mister Salvatore's help the XO and I should be able to accomplish our mission with a minimal of fuss," he replied, before giving the Rohkah a hard look. "Keeping the station in a orderly condition will be up to your Marines and whatever freedom fighters our new ally can scrounge up." He bit into the savory pasta with gusto. He had vaguely been aware that his only meal since the entire ordeal started had been the various light stuffs at the briefing. Being presented with real food was intoxicating.

                                After finishing his slice Garran spoke again. "I trust the Admiral understands that if there is a problem with the assault, it jeopardizes both my mission and Mr. Salvatore's safety."

                                His eyes narrowed on the Dragon, with the barest hint of a smirk, "And I also trust you're able to tread lightly when you need too."

                                He took a quick sip of wine before turning to Salvatore, "Thank you for your hospitality. I came expecting to make a hard sale, I'm going to leave with a full stomach."
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