View Topic

"The USS Wintreath? The one that mysteriously disappeared?" The Lieutenant's head began racing, asking a million questions a second, but all that could come out of his mouth was "Why?"

Deep Space Wintreath, Room 44-232, occupant HKR-07,

HKR-07

HKR considered its response. It hardly mattered if it lied. Either this organic would report it and it would be deactivated or he would not at which point it would not matter what he knew. The truth seemed a good enough option.

"Because I was on it."

Bewilderment, curiosity, excitement and anticipation. A surviving passenger from the USS Wintreath was standing right there in front of him. Hundreds of years after the disappearance, there was finally a clue to the mystery. Zerick had to keep asking questions and find out everything this robot knew.

"How did you survive the disappearance? Do you know what caused it to disappear? Any idea what region of space? And what were you doing aboard the ship?"

Deep Space Wintreath, Room 44-232, occupant HKR-07,

HKR-07

HKR looked down for a second. This was a point of shame for robots. Memory banks were almost sacred and losing parts of your memory was......unheard of. However, at this point, the truth had to come out for any chance for it to survive.

"I don't know. I don't know what happened to the ship and the crew. There are gaps in my memory bank, days, weeks, even months missing. I don't know what happened to the crew, where the ship ended up and how I ended up here. But I need to fine them, I have too."

HKR took a couple of steps to the left, picking up a tool off the floor and putting it on his workbench. Its room was still a mess after the encounter with the plant. It might have to go to the medbay after this, interact with both of those people, see if they were ok.

"As to your second question, it sort of happened by accident. I was created 19 years before the expedition. Several years before that I....split from the UGC. I was on the run from my former employers since. The day the expedition left I was attacked by my....replacements. They almost destroyed me. I managed to hide on the ship until I was discovered just before launch. They took me in, repaired me, treated me like one of their own."

A feeling of.....regret, sadness, hit HKR. It missed them. It knew they were dead but....it missed them none the less. They were good people. They did not deserve to be a mystery, never to be found. It would find them.

"They made me a member of the crew. Which is why I will find them. No matter what, I will find them."

Random Corridor, Deep Space Wintreath

uwO, the totally-not war criminal who had no relation to Owu Balgorni, was exploring the space station. He was easily able to score a small hotel room on the short term with the funds he had in storage. He knew that a long-term investment in the Pornographic Holovid industry was a brilliant idea, and thankfully they didn't find out about that investment. He could probably live comfortably on any planet, but he'd rather live his final days in isolation. Unfortunately, there wasn't anyone who would actually be willing to take him.

Thus, that's why he was wandering alone, walking by the occasional passerby who gave him not much of a second glance However, uwO stumbled on something... peculiar. There was a plant, a moving plant that was sentient or something like that, a... plantoid, staring out a window. Now, he had heard rumours, myths, and legends of plantoids, but he never had seen one himself. Carefully, he approached it with a curious gaze, and asked, "Hello? How are you doing fella? Are you okay?"


QWERTY's Amazingly Cool Base, Deep Space Wintreath, Maigar System

LST: 7:35:30, 05/14/7051 Mayyoran Calendar

After his porno failed to load, QWERTY decided to get off his metal ass and leave. He turned off the monitor, hearing a squeak of protest from the guinea pig that lived with him in the very comfortable, extravagant, sleeping quarters that was hidden off from the rest of the station.

He decided to look for this so called war criminal, and so resolved to innocuously wandering around the promenade.

Deep Space Wintreath, Corridors

Sol looked out into the expanse, sleep threatening her once again. She should go back. But the stars spoke to her, and she wasn't ready to leave yet. People flowed by, casting looks and whispers her way, but thankfully none disturbed her.

"Eierug, no one is more important than you in my eyes. You know this."

"...Find us a way to make it work."

"We'll get to the Neba. I promised the others that, and I promise you too."

"For as long as we're here, you are my clan now too. You can't change that."

As she sorted through her fragmented mind, faces she hadn't thought about, seen in years came swirling back. Her thoughts were cut short as a Biped approached her. It looked very human, but something in its face told her there was more to it that that. It wasn't human.

"Hello? How are you doing fella? Are you okay?"

No. Sol was not okay. And it was a bit too much at the moment that a random biped cared enough to check. Sol was sure this wasn't Kry's doing as the biped was not wearing a station uniform. She turned a sad smile onto the biped, eyes watering dangerously.

She waved at the biped male, wincing at the pain in her tendrils. There would be no attempting direct communication with this one.

Random Corridor, Deep Space Wintreath

The plantoid waved, wincing in some form of physical pain, quite clearly stating that it was injured. uwO wondered if the life form could speak, but alas, he had not been notified of any discovering made in the universe. Hell, it was hard enough finding out that the Mayyorans became a protectorate under the Wintrean Federation.

"Hey, you look injured. I'm not really in any position to help, nor do I have the knowledge, but I hope you'll get better. My name is uwO. Currently, I seek shelter on a sparsely populated planet here."

He might as well be nice, after all. And that was the truth.

Deep Space Wintreath, Corridors

Sol gave the biped, uwO, a quizzical look before shrugging, shaking slightly to shake off the pain. She looked at the stars, the planets.

Her people had explored them, before her planet exploded prematurely. But she wasn't an astronomer, nor a ship's master. She was... what was she? She had a job at one point.

The biped was actually nice, a rarity among those she had met, and she wanted to help. There. The planet glowed slightly blue from this distance. It had been been her people's first attempt to expand, an utter failure as the locals discovered them quickly, leading to the deaths of the first expansion clan. The locals had ignored their communications. Taken them for what their own purposes once they discovered their true nature, what was best for them and their people, the lousy bipeds. Sol's tendrils curled in anger. No... but it would be safe for the biped. Bipeds took care of their own.

It was all she had. Every IM knew where the planet was, which set of bipeds were their first enemies. It was burned into their memories. They had never experienced anything like them before. But it was the beginning of... this.

Suppressing the surge of anger, she tapped the window, pointing out the small dot she was looking towards. It was populated by bipeds with space travel, so catching a shuttle shouldn't be to hard for the uwO.

Random Corridor, Deep Space Wintreath

The way the plant stared at the stars... puzzled the Mayyoran. The stars were still a great deal of mystery to his people, only reaching interstellar travel (at decent speeds), relatively recently. Despite becoming a protectorate, they had much to explore and much to learn. And, they learned about the dangers. An innocent, minor nation getting caught in a conflict in a far out region of space on their first steps. Yes... Mayyor had much to learn.

The plantoid gazed for a rather long time at a planet, one that appeared barely as a blue marble at this distance. The light was static, for it was a planet and did not twinkle like the millions of stars.  Then, it tapped at the window, pointing at the dot. The creature was smart, knowing exactly what he wanted.

uwO wished for refuge there. It was sparsely populated by people, some of the Mayyoran expedition sent there, and some other humanoids. He... didn't exactly recall the history. All he knew is that there were very few. Thousands if most, people live there, centralised on a small spaceport. The rest was pure wilderness, huge swathes of untouched wildlife. Almost... a primal world, though if classified as one it would be in its late, late stage.

He nodded, saying, "Thank you, fella. Is there anything I can do for you? It might be a while for me to er, get down there. Ya know what I am saying?"

Promenade, Deep Space Wintreath, Maigar System

LST: 7:42:24, 05/14/7051 Mayyoran Calendar

QWERTY, very quickly became distracted by a new toy he saw in the window of a shop.

Deep space Wintreath, Corridors

Sol's eyes widened as the owU asked if he could do something for... her. It had been so long since someone had asked after her. Treated her as an equal. A stream of yellow tinted tears slid down into her leaves, but they were happy this time. She smiled. This was one step closer to getting to her clan, her people, and the Neba.

Maybe he knew where to find her people. Maybe he knew how to find the Neba. No. That was stupid. It would have been big news in some, probably terrible, form if someone found the Neba. It would be cloaked, only the masters would know where it was. Wait.

She was supposed to pass on a message. She had been there when her clan's master was killed. Somewhere, she knew where the Neba was.

She knew what she wanted. She had to piece together her old life. She looked at owU again, then took off at a rapid pace, looking back to see if he would follow occasionally. It really didn't matter if he did, but Sol almost wanted to call him a friend. It was silly. She just met him. He was leaving soon. But a good part of her wanted an honest to Tlepat friend. She zipped through the corridors, heading for a back set of shops, ones still under repair, very few open.

In front of her was all the biped tech she could ever want. She had only to obtain the correct pieces. She stopped, drooping a little. She no longer knew which pieces were correct. Well, she had to start somewhere. Might as well start putting pieces together and seeing what happened. Something was bound to click eventually.

Sol quite happily began taking misplaced tools for her own efforts, scraps from the neatly packaged bins. It was a matter of time until she got caught and taken back, but she was going to make the most of it.

Deep Space Wintreath, Dexar's Simulation Station

Load, Aim, Fire, Repeat.

K011 drowned himself in the comfort of a gun in his hands and a bottle of cheap whiskey. The whiskey ran out far too quickly and eventually the shooting range couldn't numb him to the memories which flowed through him in torrents, he curled up in a corner by the loading table and sobbed like a human child. So many brothers killed, so many horrible images washing through him. Soon he had to disconnect from the simulator as the memories began to take physical shape in the program. He wiped away his tears but more replaced them. Not knowing what else to do he ran out of Dexar's at full speed ignoring the strange man's attempts to flag him down.

Deep Space Wintreath, Corridors

K011 ran, he didn't know where he was going but he ran. He couldn't even see where he was going, blinded by burning hot tears.

Eventually K011 came to a dead end and completely lost in his anguish he took his fear grief and rage out on the nearest thing to him, in this case the bulkhead. He smashed his fists into the bulkhead and roared with pain. He bashed his fists into the bulkhead until his knuckles bled, and then he punched it some more before slumping to his knees in front of the dented wall.