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I don't care.

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I don't care.

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Total Members Voted: 0

Voting closed: January 04, 2021, 02:28:47 am

[ZBridges]

Put down weapons, put our hands up and say that we found the ship and were hoping to repair it

+1.  I wonder if the ark ship would have fuel and parts we could use to fix this reactor?

[Superdorf]

Ah-hm. Void marine.

Is void armor commonly shielded against war-nanites? If not... perhaps this is our chance to try that brain-stroke trick Alphira mentioned so long ago.

[Naturegirl1999]

Ah-hm. Void marine.

Is void armor commonly shielded against war-nanites? If not... perhaps this is our chance to try that brain-stroke trick Alphira mentioned so long ago.

I suggest not trying to kill him.

[Iris]

Not trying to kill him only works if we're confident that he isn't trying to kill us.

Put down weapons, put our hands up and say that we found the ship and were hoping to repair it

Do this for now, but stay on our guard.

[ZBridges]

Maybe we can work something out.  He probably wants the ship fixed as well.

[19_EgarAlnis]

You quietly peel away your gun, rising with your hands lifted-- "We were only trying to fix the ship--" You begin to explain, even as the Captain cuts you off.

"Of course ya' were damn well tryin' to fix it. This thing is a state of the art Naval vessel with enough wealth on it to buy a system. You must think I'm really bloody dumb if you think that weak excuse."

[9 vs 18]"Pheonix, put your damn hands down and stop playing the fool. Can I have a moment to talk with my friend?" Cephie spits the word with venom-- and doesn't give the Captain a chance to respond as she suddenly grabs you by the front of your armor and slams you into a wall with enough force to drive the wind from your lungs. "I'm sorry, Pheonix, but are you an idiot? Are you a thrice-damned fool? Did you hit your head hard on your fall from atmos?"

"--what?" You stutter, confused by the turn of events. The Captain has lowered his weapon, watching with mild interest.

"Y'know I'm always interested in dinner theatre an' all, but I want to get back--"

"Shut up." Cephie growls to him, turning her attention back to you, even as her grip tightens on your armor. She pulls your helmet off, looking you right in the eye as she growls, pushing you into the wall harder and harder. "Who. The. Fuck. Are. You."

[ZBridges]

"I am the flame of Old Sol.  By the way... get the fuck away from me."

Push not-Iyal. Hard. Then, send out our will until the captain is incapacitated.

[Superdorf]

...right.
Definitely time for anger.

"Patchwork girl." Spit the words. Set our will twisting. "Built on scraps. Stranded on a plague rock. I fight for my place, and my soul crumbles to godhood. I try to play nice, and people like you see weakness."

Wings. Voice of the Queen.
"Is this what you expect? Apotheosis? Blood and fire?"

[19_EgarAlnis]

Cephie of Lavoisier stumbles back, landing on her rear. Your wings bloom forth, searing into metal, destroying the display with the sudden burst of heat, of chained inferno. A respirator begins to hiss on the knightly form of the Voidmarine, protecting against the lack of available oxygen. Steam flows at your feet.

"Patchwork girl." You growl, "Flame of Old Sol. Daughter of the Void and Alphira. Built on scraps. Stranded on a plague rock. I fight for my place, and my soul crumbles to godhood. I try to play nice, and people like you see weakness!"

[15+6 vs 20+5] Your voice booms out over the bridge, bouncing off the walls. Unrestrained will and deep anger pours into it. Your very voice splits the hydrogen from water, igniting sparklers of fire where it strikes. Determination made manifest.
"Is this what you wanted from me? Apotheosis? Blood and Fire? The Wrath of Old Sol?"

Cephie flinches back from your shout, face going pale. But she is not stunned, not weakened by your power, weathering it as best she can. She rises, painfully, slowly, to growl out, "AND! Pheobe fucking Gainer!"

You hesitate, confused.

"That is your name! Stories of you will be told for the ages on this world and the next. Never forget to tell the world your name -- I'm not following a coward. I'm not following Alphira. I'm not following the Crone Sol. I'm. Following. You. How can you expect your comrades to respect you if you have no respect for what you truly are!? Why do you hide in the darkness. Why do you cower from your own light?"

The armored giant in the room slowly drops to a slouch as machines hiss open. A thin, weathered old man stumbles into a kneel. His white beard, unbraided, would fall down to his knees. His multi-hued topknot, the same. Horrifying scars and cybernetics make up most of his body. More of it is metal than flesh. His limbs-- they are barely more than interfaces for the Voidmarine carapace. His abdomen has been exchanged for a direct life support unit.

"The Twelve Moon...Clans owes...life-debt."

Your fires dwindle, and fade, as you turn to look at the man. His brogue is a whisper of a rasp made with vocal cords not used to speech without an amplifier. "We served the Rimward King -- and were rescued from Tainted Space by Regis. We...we owe the survival of our clans...to...The Line of Sol."

"And did your forefathers serve Sol?" Cephie suddenly turns to look away from you, her facemask shifting up to hide her eyes.

"Ye-yes. During...the Great...Reclaimation."

Cephie speaks to you sideways, "This is what you are -- Daughter of Sol. Your Line's First is the [Patron Saint], the [Merciful God], the Epitome of Piracy. You are the Fire of Freedom. You were born with the hope of millions - trillions already laid upon your shoulders. Wear your mantle proud, because your soul and godhood are one."

[ZBridges]

"I... I think I understand now.  Thank you, Cephie.  Captain, do you swear allegiance to me and the Line of Sol on behalf of your crew until such time as you are released?"

[Superdorf]

((Bahaha. That was perfect.))
((...anyway, it's time I asked for some exposition. What was the Reclamation War? Who was Old Sol?))
The-- Reclamation.
My war.

Such fools we elders are, godling: triumphant one moment, fearful the next. We are husks of what we were. Dust-- but you! You shall wield your fate like a torch!
Speak with fire, Phoebe Gainer. This is, in its own way, a triumph.

[ZBridges]

The first of our Line, ancient and unknowable.  You alone have glimpsed her visage, I believe.

[19_EgarAlnis]

Spoiler: The War of Reclaimation (click to show/hide)

Before the Endless Empress/or Unified Time, there was chaos. Wars fought over scraps in the dark corners of the Galaxy. Murder, pillaging and terrible abuses of power caused such great conflicts -- and in these great conflicts, trillions upon trillions perished. Worlds burned. Then, the Endless constructed an army. Every planet he took joined in his Crusade. Joined in his conflict. It waged even after the Unification of Time. For tens of thousands of years-- until all of the Galaxy was united beneath one banner. The Endless Empyre broke the fabric of space-time to celebrate, crafting a structure of pure light from the remains-- It became the beacon of his new empire. It stretches for lightyears, and became the spoke on which the galaxy twisted itself around.The Laws of Physics no longer bound man -- but the Laws of the Endless did.

Spoiler: Old Sol, The Fire, the First Pirate Queen, Rogue, Scoundrel, Heroine, Sinner and Saint, Prometheus of Empyreal Lore (click to show/hide)

Old Sol was a pirate, during the dark times of man before the Reclaimation and Unification. If the Endless was mortal, Old Sol would be his/her contemporary. She commanded the largest fleet seen in the Galaxy -- but she was no senseless reaver. She broke the powerful, robbed the rich, and gave those who lay oppressed beneath tyranny, beneath fear-- she granted them incredible strength. A Breaker of Chains, the First Queen of the Pirates. It was on her fleets that the Empyre was carried like a blazing torch. It is said she was the second Ascended, and that when the Endless ascended -- she held the gods at gunpoint/swordpoint for her own divinity. A wandering adventurer, a rogue, a queen, a god. Pauper and peerage.
She was the woman who stole fire from the gods, and burned her name into the stars with it, before haphazardly casting the torch down for the next mortal.
It is generally assumed she is female, but occasionally is given male names and has had male divinities cast in her likeness.

"Within...reason. Our contract will...be forged with...favorable terms for...you." The old man wheezes, and slowly he rises, stepping back into his armor with a hiss of sealing servos.

Cephie slumps, tension leaving her shoulders. "I don't want to follow Alphira, or Sol. Those stories are gone, faded into the Dust. You want things to be different. You bloody well told a room full of aristocrats that you wanted a democracy. You use the monsters that all men fear as punching bags when you're pissed off. Don't forget it. The world won't let you."

Finally, "You're far from the Culmination, the turning of lead into gold, your true awakening, by the way."

You glance over to her, then shake your head.

"What is your name, Captain?"

"Murdach Of Valhol. I've glimpsed the gates many times, but was never granted entrance. I'm the elected Captain of the Twelve Moon Clans. I have no clan of my own--orphaned as I was on our Third Ship." The smooth, middle-aged brogue drawls, speaking in High Empyreal. "We'll hash out the contract whenever you have the time."

[ZBridges]

"Well met.  I'm not sure if you're aware of this, Murdach Of Valhol, but you have been frozen for a long, long time.  I'm afraid that some of your crew have not survived."

[19_EgarAlnis]

"Such is the way of things. We'll keep'm on ice for now." Introductions over, Murdach slips into a much more comfortable Low, Old Empyreal, filled to the brim with Pirate Cant. "Void back to it. That or breathe'm, if our food is low. But considering wherein we sat down, we should still be planetside. Aye?"

You give a nod.

"Judgin' by the way my display is green, we're under water. This was a salt-flat when we made a splash. How many? Two, three hundred years?"

"A thousand or so, by my reckoning." Cephie answers, letting her mask down to reveal her red eyes and runny nose. "Had a mutiny?"

"Nah, we sent lads out to work as mercs against the Plague. Why we came here in the first place -- heard a broadcast asking for men and women of fortune. A missile was about to hit us, though, so wes went into shelter. I've got a tear all across my poor girl, but she didn't break."