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Vesper - Leo - 04-19-2022
Vesper
The Backstory for Zylar Vespertine
"What did I tell you about going off half-cocked?" a voice echoed distantly. "You're always balancing precariously on the edge. One bad situation to the next. One of these days, you're not gonna come out on the other side unscathed."
Screaming, he awoke with a start. The sound of rain against his apartment window jolting him awake for the umpteen-millionth time. For a moment, he was back in the Military. The distant sound of decompression alarms still echoing in his mind. He could still see the Gallic ship ahead of him, his weapons straining in a vain attempt to disable the vessel.
Zylar shook his head, trying to clear the memories that refused to fade into obscurity. They were too deeply engrained in his psyche; in his soul. Those days were gone, however...and she'd still died screaming. Tears welled up in his vision as those damned memories came back again and again. For years they persisted, like a record stuck skipping over and over again. The psychologists insisted that it would pass in time, that he'd once again be a functioning member of society again.
"Quacks." he said aloud to no one in particular. After all, he was alone in his small studio apartment. The only sound echoing off it's walls was the pitter-patter of rain drops. "Best thing I did was leave that life behind. Them and the Military both."
He'd chanced upon the apartment by sheer luck. After going AWOL from the Bretonian Special Forces, he'd needed a place to lay low and found the small studio after landing on Stuttgart. It was his oasis; an isle of calm in the turmoil of his damaged mind and cursed memories.
"Ugh." he said rubbing his eyes. "Coffee."
Zylar wasn't a small man by any means. He stood just under 2 meters tall and weighed around 120 kilos with most of that being muscle. He went to the gym everyday after his gig working at the local bar. It was the only other place he felt he could work out his problems without breaking the nearest annoyance...if they be an object or person.
He swung his legs down over the edge of his bed and stood, the bed groaning in gratitude for the weight being lifted off it's frame. He shuffled slowly over to the kitchen and rummaged around looking for coffee.
"Damn. Out of Coffee again. Hope the bar has some in stock I can buy off Reggie."
Reggie was the bar's owner. A gangly old man who at some point had worked for the less than..."reputable" factions on Stuttgart. Reggie never offered any information and Zylar never pried, but you could tell by some of the patrons who passed through the bar that he was at the very least a very reputable smuggler back in his younger years. Hell, sometimes the bar got liquor that even bars on Manhattan couldn't get in stock easily leading Zylar to believe that it was smuggled in at one of the ports.
He took a shower and got dressed, leaving his apartment and headed towards the bar. It was his day off, but he figured Reggie wouldn't mind selling him a box of Coffee for his apartment if he asked nicely enough. Zylar had applied for the bouncers position at the bar initially but Reggie needed a bartender and that's the position he'd got. Not that he complained. After all, he still functioned as an imposing force to those drunkards that wanted to start any s*** in the bar. Many times he'd thrown out would be tough guys face first out the front door.
Zylar shuffled through the rain, keeping his head down to avoid getting the rain in his eyes. Within a few moments, he'd arrived at the bar and opened the door.
"What'd I tell you, old man?" a voice said, gruff and disdainful. "You don't get to dictate our contract. You agreed to pay us for our haul and you're gonna do just that."
"Screw you, Milo." Reggie replied. "I've been through this whole dog and pony show before ya know. I was in your place--"
"Yeah yeah, I've heard the 'stories' of your valiant escapades when you were younger but you're just an old feeble man now." he said shoving Reggie to the floor. "...and I can take what we're owed if need be."
At this, Zylar cleared his throat. Milo looked to the door and grinned. The three men around him turned to face Zylar, sizing him up.
"Well, if it ain't the giant. Come to protect your grandad?"
"Naw." Zylar said cracking his neck once and narrowing his eyes. "Just here to take out the trash."
Screaming, he awoke with a start. The sound of rain against his apartment window jolting him awake for the umpteen-millionth time. For a moment, he was back in the Military. The distant sound of decompression alarms still echoing in his mind. He could still see the Gallic ship ahead of him, his weapons straining in a vain attempt to disable the vessel.
Zylar shook his head, trying to clear the memories that refused to fade into obscurity. They were too deeply engrained in his psyche; in his soul. Those days were gone, however...and she'd still died screaming. Tears welled up in his vision as those damned memories came back again and again. For years they persisted, like a record stuck skipping over and over again. The psychologists insisted that it would pass in time, that he'd once again be a functioning member of society again.
"Quacks." he said aloud to no one in particular. After all, he was alone in his small studio apartment. The only sound echoing off it's walls was the pitter-patter of rain drops. "Best thing I did was leave that life behind. Them and the Military both."
He'd chanced upon the apartment by sheer luck. After going AWOL from the Bretonian Special Forces, he'd needed a place to lay low and found the small studio after landing on Stuttgart. It was his oasis; an isle of calm in the turmoil of his damaged mind and cursed memories.
"Ugh." he said rubbing his eyes. "Coffee."
Zylar wasn't a small man by any means. He stood just under 2 meters tall and weighed around 120 kilos with most of that being muscle. He went to the gym everyday after his gig working at the local bar. It was the only other place he felt he could work out his problems without breaking the nearest annoyance...if they be an object or person.
He swung his legs down over the edge of his bed and stood, the bed groaning in gratitude for the weight being lifted off it's frame. He shuffled slowly over to the kitchen and rummaged around looking for coffee.
"Damn. Out of Coffee again. Hope the bar has some in stock I can buy off Reggie."
Reggie was the bar's owner. A gangly old man who at some point had worked for the less than..."reputable" factions on Stuttgart. Reggie never offered any information and Zylar never pried, but you could tell by some of the patrons who passed through the bar that he was at the very least a very reputable smuggler back in his younger years. Hell, sometimes the bar got liquor that even bars on Manhattan couldn't get in stock easily leading Zylar to believe that it was smuggled in at one of the ports.
He took a shower and got dressed, leaving his apartment and headed towards the bar. It was his day off, but he figured Reggie wouldn't mind selling him a box of Coffee for his apartment if he asked nicely enough. Zylar had applied for the bouncers position at the bar initially but Reggie needed a bartender and that's the position he'd got. Not that he complained. After all, he still functioned as an imposing force to those drunkards that wanted to start any s*** in the bar. Many times he'd thrown out would be tough guys face first out the front door.
Zylar shuffled through the rain, keeping his head down to avoid getting the rain in his eyes. Within a few moments, he'd arrived at the bar and opened the door.
"What'd I tell you, old man?" a voice said, gruff and disdainful. "You don't get to dictate our contract. You agreed to pay us for our haul and you're gonna do just that."
"Screw you, Milo." Reggie replied. "I've been through this whole dog and pony show before ya know. I was in your place--"
"Yeah yeah, I've heard the 'stories' of your valiant escapades when you were younger but you're just an old feeble man now." he said shoving Reggie to the floor. "...and I can take what we're owed if need be."
At this, Zylar cleared his throat. Milo looked to the door and grinned. The three men around him turned to face Zylar, sizing him up.
"Well, if it ain't the giant. Come to protect your grandad?"
"Naw." Zylar said cracking his neck once and narrowing his eyes. "Just here to take out the trash."
RE: Vesper - Leo - 04-20-2022
Zylar took stock of the situation. Milo stood next to the entrance to the area behind the bar, a wall standing to his left. Reggie was on the floor to his right after being shoved down. One of Milo's men was standing directly in front of him the bar counter to his left. That one was standing closest to Zylar and would be the first to initiate any violence. The other two men were standing to Milo's right one in front and one behind.
"Kill him." Milo said to no one in particular and turned his back to continue his 'discussion' with Reggie.
As expected, the goon standing closest to Zylar lunged first with a blade that appeared from no where. Zylar dodged to the right, avoiding the knife. He grabbed the stool directly below the direction he dodged and brought it up with speed to contact the jaw of the man who just attempted to skewer him. He heard the audible crunch of teeth shattering before shoving the man into the second goon who'd come from the left to intervene. The two men went flying through the side window into the street. The sound of a hover car hitting one of them with a loud bang. The last man pulled a small pistol after seeing that physical violence wasn't an option but Zylar already had a shots glass in hand and chucked it as hard as he could at the man's face. With a "thwap" sound, the man went down to the floor, blood seeping out of his shattered eye socket.
Zylar went perfectly still, staring down the would-be gangster. Milo sighed and turned back around. He looked around at his men either squirming on the ground or unconscious.
"Why'd you have to go and do that for?" he said with more exasperation than concern for his own well-being. "Now I have to get my hands dirty." He looked at Zylar with more boredom than fear. "Ya know, any other time I'd offer you a job. Good muscle is hard to find these days. Now though, I think I'll just take what I want and leave you with the bill."
He turned back to Reggie and with a flick of his wrist, drew a pistol from his coat sleeve and fired the weapon directly into the head of Reggie. The old man slumped over motionless without another sound. With a speed that belied his size, Zylar moved with efficiency to remove Milo from the equation permanently. However, before he could, darkness engulfed him, a sharp pain in the back of his head all the he felt before he fell.
In a daze, Zylar began to slowly wake up. Sirens blared in his ears before darkness threatened to swallow him up again. He heard the voices of police shouting in German for him to put his hands over his head but they felt like he was lifting a battleship over his head. As quickly as he began to wake up, he fell back into a dreamless sleep.
Some time later, he came to suddenly, the world around him flashing into brilliant light and color. A clear sign that someone had just injected him with speed.
"Are you conscious, Lieutenant Vespertine?" said a man with a Bretonian accent. That sent alarm bells off in his head and woke him up more than any amphetamines would. They'd found him.
Zylar looked at the man speaking. He was wearing a Bretonian Uniform and stood in front of Zylar at parade rest. The rank on his shoulder indicated that he was a Colonel.
"Good. I'm here at the request of the Rheinland government after the incident at the..." he said looking down at a piece of paper, "...Rusty Grenade." The Colonel looked up at the wall after reading the name with a look of disbelief at the name. Then back down to Zylar. "You do remember the incident I'm speaking of, yes?"
Zylar only glared at the Colonel without saying a word.
"You killed a man, Lieutenant." he said. "A Reggie McAllister as the records indicate. He was the owner of the bar where you worked...this 'Rusty Grenade'."
Zylar continued to glare at the Colonel.
"We can play these games if you want Beanstalk." he said using Zylar's callsign. "Or you can tell me what happened so I can get you out of here and back to Bretonia."
"I'm not going back." Zylar spat more than said. "I'd rather be tried here in Rheinland for murder than go back there."
"He speaks!" the Colonel said sarcastically throwing his hands in the air. "Hallelujah!"
Zylar glared.
"Except I know you didn't murder that man. Your records from your Military service are immaculate. You served with distinction until-"
"Stop." Zylar said through gritted teeth. "Please." he said quietly.
The Colonel nodded somberly. "I read the reports. I understand what you went through."
"No. You don't."
The silence in the room was oppressive.
"Your wife died." the Colonel finished. "She served with distinction."
"Go. To. Hell." Zylar sneered.
The Colonel nodded somberly.
"I've been. So have you it would seem." he paused for what seemed like dramatic effect before the military bearing returned to his form. He continued. "The death of Reggie McAllister, while tragic, was ruled as a robbery gone wrong. You've been relieved of all charges here in Rheinland. Except the ones you face in Bretonia for Dereliction of Duty and being Absent Without Leave. You are being taken back to Bretonia via diplomatic shuttle to face your charges and Court Martial. I expect you will be drummed out of the service before long and exiled from Bretonia."
"Thank Christ." Zylar mumbled.
"That's, if you're lucky. The other possibility is death by firing squad for abandoning your post in a time of war. On your feet, soldier."
Zylar continued to sit in his chair, glaring at the Colonel.
"Please Zylar. You may be a big man. An intimidating man. But there's nothing saying that I can't knock you back out and have you transported unconscious back instead."
Zylar stood, towering over to Colonel. He glared down at the small Flag Officer.
"Oh, by the way, the name is Colonel Thyme."
Zylar shuffled through the open door.
"I didn't ask and I don't care." he said.
"Kill him." Milo said to no one in particular and turned his back to continue his 'discussion' with Reggie.
As expected, the goon standing closest to Zylar lunged first with a blade that appeared from no where. Zylar dodged to the right, avoiding the knife. He grabbed the stool directly below the direction he dodged and brought it up with speed to contact the jaw of the man who just attempted to skewer him. He heard the audible crunch of teeth shattering before shoving the man into the second goon who'd come from the left to intervene. The two men went flying through the side window into the street. The sound of a hover car hitting one of them with a loud bang. The last man pulled a small pistol after seeing that physical violence wasn't an option but Zylar already had a shots glass in hand and chucked it as hard as he could at the man's face. With a "thwap" sound, the man went down to the floor, blood seeping out of his shattered eye socket.
Zylar went perfectly still, staring down the would-be gangster. Milo sighed and turned back around. He looked around at his men either squirming on the ground or unconscious.
"Why'd you have to go and do that for?" he said with more exasperation than concern for his own well-being. "Now I have to get my hands dirty." He looked at Zylar with more boredom than fear. "Ya know, any other time I'd offer you a job. Good muscle is hard to find these days. Now though, I think I'll just take what I want and leave you with the bill."
He turned back to Reggie and with a flick of his wrist, drew a pistol from his coat sleeve and fired the weapon directly into the head of Reggie. The old man slumped over motionless without another sound. With a speed that belied his size, Zylar moved with efficiency to remove Milo from the equation permanently. However, before he could, darkness engulfed him, a sharp pain in the back of his head all the he felt before he fell.
In a daze, Zylar began to slowly wake up. Sirens blared in his ears before darkness threatened to swallow him up again. He heard the voices of police shouting in German for him to put his hands over his head but they felt like he was lifting a battleship over his head. As quickly as he began to wake up, he fell back into a dreamless sleep.
Some time later, he came to suddenly, the world around him flashing into brilliant light and color. A clear sign that someone had just injected him with speed.
"Are you conscious, Lieutenant Vespertine?" said a man with a Bretonian accent. That sent alarm bells off in his head and woke him up more than any amphetamines would. They'd found him.
Zylar looked at the man speaking. He was wearing a Bretonian Uniform and stood in front of Zylar at parade rest. The rank on his shoulder indicated that he was a Colonel.
"Good. I'm here at the request of the Rheinland government after the incident at the..." he said looking down at a piece of paper, "...Rusty Grenade." The Colonel looked up at the wall after reading the name with a look of disbelief at the name. Then back down to Zylar. "You do remember the incident I'm speaking of, yes?"
Zylar only glared at the Colonel without saying a word.
"You killed a man, Lieutenant." he said. "A Reggie McAllister as the records indicate. He was the owner of the bar where you worked...this 'Rusty Grenade'."
Zylar continued to glare at the Colonel.
"We can play these games if you want Beanstalk." he said using Zylar's callsign. "Or you can tell me what happened so I can get you out of here and back to Bretonia."
"I'm not going back." Zylar spat more than said. "I'd rather be tried here in Rheinland for murder than go back there."
"He speaks!" the Colonel said sarcastically throwing his hands in the air. "Hallelujah!"
Zylar glared.
"Except I know you didn't murder that man. Your records from your Military service are immaculate. You served with distinction until-"
"Stop." Zylar said through gritted teeth. "Please." he said quietly.
The Colonel nodded somberly. "I read the reports. I understand what you went through."
"No. You don't."
The silence in the room was oppressive.
"Your wife died." the Colonel finished. "She served with distinction."
"Go. To. Hell." Zylar sneered.
The Colonel nodded somberly.
"I've been. So have you it would seem." he paused for what seemed like dramatic effect before the military bearing returned to his form. He continued. "The death of Reggie McAllister, while tragic, was ruled as a robbery gone wrong. You've been relieved of all charges here in Rheinland. Except the ones you face in Bretonia for Dereliction of Duty and being Absent Without Leave. You are being taken back to Bretonia via diplomatic shuttle to face your charges and Court Martial. I expect you will be drummed out of the service before long and exiled from Bretonia."
"Thank Christ." Zylar mumbled.
"That's, if you're lucky. The other possibility is death by firing squad for abandoning your post in a time of war. On your feet, soldier."
Zylar continued to sit in his chair, glaring at the Colonel.
"Please Zylar. You may be a big man. An intimidating man. But there's nothing saying that I can't knock you back out and have you transported unconscious back instead."
Zylar stood, towering over to Colonel. He glared down at the small Flag Officer.
"Oh, by the way, the name is Colonel Thyme."
Zylar shuffled through the open door.
"I didn't ask and I don't care." he said.
RE: Vesper - Leo - 04-21-2022
Zylar had always hated Bretonian transports--even more so now. They were always so benign. Sparse. Boring.
"Prisoner." he heard the guard say behind him. "Sit in this seat and keep quiet. We will be lifting off in approximately three minutes. If you make any move I don't like, I shoot you. If you piss me off, I shoot you. If you-"
"Got it, sir." Zylar replied locking eyes with a bulkhead straight ahead. "I'm sure you have other things to be doing than threaten a prisoner so I'll keep my mouth shut from here on. I don't have much to talk about anyway."
The guard stared at Zylar for a good five seconds, grunted, locked Zylar into his harness in his seat, and turned to sit in a seat to his right. He pulled out his issued hand terminal and began going through what looked like paperwork. Zylar considered what he was going to be getting into in the coming days. Like Colonel Thyme said, he would be lucky if he just got a dishonourable discharge and be exiled from the house. At worse, he'd get a bullet in the head and be welcomed into his wifes warm embrace...if there even was an afterlife. He'd never really thought about that much. Belief in a higher power, when you see the horrors of war, tend to get shuffled to the background--if the belief even survives.
The ship jolted as it took off from the tarmac and ascended to the docking ring in orbit. It had been years since Zylar was outside of a gravity well. Mostly because being in space opened up a lot of opportunities to get captured.
Zylar snorted at that last thought, causing the guard to glance up at him from his terminal.
"What." he said more as a statement than a question.
"Just thinking that the reason I never left the gravity well was because I never wanted to get captured." he replied.
"How's that working out for you?" the guard said going back to his paperwork. Zylar snorted again.
He heard the docking ring open and the distant sound of a trade ring powering up as the ship maneuvered into it. He knew that the Navy would make a big deal about him being captured. There would probably be news articles about him being captured. They'd parade him around as their pig ripe for the slaughter before they did whatever they wanted with him. He'd be an example to the rest of the Military what happens when you abandon your post.
He didn't care to be honest. He'd lost everything within the last 12 hours. Reggie, a man that had taken him under his wing and cared about him was dead. The man who killed him was free to continue to harass and kill others that didn't deserve it. His small apartment that had long been a source of comfort and an oasis in the turmoil of life was probably going to be packed up by the Bretonian Navy and the items shipped back as evidence for his abandonment of his homeland. The people he knew would be questioned, his past laid bare for all of those who cared.
There was a brief disorientation before reality returned. Evidence that they had passed through a Jumpgate. Probably Omega-7 since that was the most direct path back to Bretonia. Zylar sighed and leaned back in his seat closing his eyes. The guard cleared his throat to the right and Zylar glanced his way.
"It might seem...bad now." he said, his terminal in his lap now. "But you'll get through it."
"Figured you'd hate me too for what I did." Zylar responded. The guard replied with a shrug.
"Nah, not really. Did some research on you with what clearance I had. You are--or were--a decorated war hero. You kicked ass in the Gallic wars. An ace pilot, a tough as shit operator and Special Forces Marine on the ground too."
Zylar smiled a humored smile. "I don't need my military service told to me, I was there." The guard shrugged again.
"All I'm saying is, I don't think they'll put a bullet in your head. Bad optics. If anything you'll just get pushed out of the military and told to never come back."
"If I'm lucky, right?" Zylar replied, arching one eyebrow.
"If you're lucky." the guard said with a mirthless smile.
Silence reigned between the two for a few moments. Suddenly, the ship lurched violently to the right. The telltale sign of a Trade Lane disruption. The guard snapped back to his previous business like attitude. He pointed at Zylar.
"You stay there. You move--"
"Yeah, yeah, I get shot." Zylar repeated waving his hand at the Guard who actually smiled a bit at the response. He unhooked his harness and pushed off towards the doors at the head of the hold, weightless now that the transport was no longer under thrust. He went through and disappeared.
A few moments later, he felt the transport shake under weapons fire. Someone was actually attacking a Bretonian Military transport? He felt the vessels turrets respond in kind, the hull vibrating under the strain of the turrets. Before long, the weapons fire stopped and the ship drifted under no thrust. Zylar's weightless body pressed against the straps holding him into his seat. If the cockpit had been hit, then it could be exposed to vacuum and the transport was dead in the water. He had no access to the ships systems to verify if the pilots of guards were okay. He couldn't even get out of his seat without the key to his harness.
The ship shook with a subtle impact. Zylar knew that sensation, it was a docking clamp of some kind. Someone was docking with the ship. Zylar began to fiddle with his harness. If the ship was being docked by pirates, then he had to get loose in order to defend himself. He strained against the harness holding him down before the door behind him opened with a hiss.
"Zylar Vespertine?" a small voice said.
"Who's asking?" he replied, still straining with his harness.
A small woman appeared in front of him, a pistol in a bandolier on her chest, two pistols on her side, and a vast array of knives on her person. She had auburn hair and shockingly green eyes...eyes that reminded him of Reggie.
"The name's Lana Hatcher. I believe you knew my grandfather."
"...s***." was all Zylar could say before she slowly pulled out a blade from her bandolier.
"Prisoner." he heard the guard say behind him. "Sit in this seat and keep quiet. We will be lifting off in approximately three minutes. If you make any move I don't like, I shoot you. If you piss me off, I shoot you. If you-"
"Got it, sir." Zylar replied locking eyes with a bulkhead straight ahead. "I'm sure you have other things to be doing than threaten a prisoner so I'll keep my mouth shut from here on. I don't have much to talk about anyway."
The guard stared at Zylar for a good five seconds, grunted, locked Zylar into his harness in his seat, and turned to sit in a seat to his right. He pulled out his issued hand terminal and began going through what looked like paperwork. Zylar considered what he was going to be getting into in the coming days. Like Colonel Thyme said, he would be lucky if he just got a dishonourable discharge and be exiled from the house. At worse, he'd get a bullet in the head and be welcomed into his wifes warm embrace...if there even was an afterlife. He'd never really thought about that much. Belief in a higher power, when you see the horrors of war, tend to get shuffled to the background--if the belief even survives.
The ship jolted as it took off from the tarmac and ascended to the docking ring in orbit. It had been years since Zylar was outside of a gravity well. Mostly because being in space opened up a lot of opportunities to get captured.
Zylar snorted at that last thought, causing the guard to glance up at him from his terminal.
"What." he said more as a statement than a question.
"Just thinking that the reason I never left the gravity well was because I never wanted to get captured." he replied.
"How's that working out for you?" the guard said going back to his paperwork. Zylar snorted again.
He heard the docking ring open and the distant sound of a trade ring powering up as the ship maneuvered into it. He knew that the Navy would make a big deal about him being captured. There would probably be news articles about him being captured. They'd parade him around as their pig ripe for the slaughter before they did whatever they wanted with him. He'd be an example to the rest of the Military what happens when you abandon your post.
He didn't care to be honest. He'd lost everything within the last 12 hours. Reggie, a man that had taken him under his wing and cared about him was dead. The man who killed him was free to continue to harass and kill others that didn't deserve it. His small apartment that had long been a source of comfort and an oasis in the turmoil of life was probably going to be packed up by the Bretonian Navy and the items shipped back as evidence for his abandonment of his homeland. The people he knew would be questioned, his past laid bare for all of those who cared.
There was a brief disorientation before reality returned. Evidence that they had passed through a Jumpgate. Probably Omega-7 since that was the most direct path back to Bretonia. Zylar sighed and leaned back in his seat closing his eyes. The guard cleared his throat to the right and Zylar glanced his way.
"It might seem...bad now." he said, his terminal in his lap now. "But you'll get through it."
"Figured you'd hate me too for what I did." Zylar responded. The guard replied with a shrug.
"Nah, not really. Did some research on you with what clearance I had. You are--or were--a decorated war hero. You kicked ass in the Gallic wars. An ace pilot, a tough as shit operator and Special Forces Marine on the ground too."
Zylar smiled a humored smile. "I don't need my military service told to me, I was there." The guard shrugged again.
"All I'm saying is, I don't think they'll put a bullet in your head. Bad optics. If anything you'll just get pushed out of the military and told to never come back."
"If I'm lucky, right?" Zylar replied, arching one eyebrow.
"If you're lucky." the guard said with a mirthless smile.
Silence reigned between the two for a few moments. Suddenly, the ship lurched violently to the right. The telltale sign of a Trade Lane disruption. The guard snapped back to his previous business like attitude. He pointed at Zylar.
"You stay there. You move--"
"Yeah, yeah, I get shot." Zylar repeated waving his hand at the Guard who actually smiled a bit at the response. He unhooked his harness and pushed off towards the doors at the head of the hold, weightless now that the transport was no longer under thrust. He went through and disappeared.
A few moments later, he felt the transport shake under weapons fire. Someone was actually attacking a Bretonian Military transport? He felt the vessels turrets respond in kind, the hull vibrating under the strain of the turrets. Before long, the weapons fire stopped and the ship drifted under no thrust. Zylar's weightless body pressed against the straps holding him into his seat. If the cockpit had been hit, then it could be exposed to vacuum and the transport was dead in the water. He had no access to the ships systems to verify if the pilots of guards were okay. He couldn't even get out of his seat without the key to his harness.
The ship shook with a subtle impact. Zylar knew that sensation, it was a docking clamp of some kind. Someone was docking with the ship. Zylar began to fiddle with his harness. If the ship was being docked by pirates, then he had to get loose in order to defend himself. He strained against the harness holding him down before the door behind him opened with a hiss.
"Zylar Vespertine?" a small voice said.
"Who's asking?" he replied, still straining with his harness.
A small woman appeared in front of him, a pistol in a bandolier on her chest, two pistols on her side, and a vast array of knives on her person. She had auburn hair and shockingly green eyes...eyes that reminded him of Reggie.
"The name's Lana Hatcher. I believe you knew my grandfather."
"...s***." was all Zylar could say before she slowly pulled out a blade from her bandolier.
RE: Vesper - Leo - 04-23-2022
With a quick flick of her wrist, the woman cut through one of the harnesses holding him into his seat.
"We're still technically in one of the border world systems." she said in a business-like matter-of-fact tone. "However, that doesn't mean that Bretonia is gonna be overly thrilled a transport with a high profile prisoner got hijacked. They may, 'forget' and overstep their bounds."
"Can't imagine the IMG being too happy about that." Zylar commented, relived that this girl wasn't out for revenge. "Can I ask why you're here?"
"No time to talk." she replied cutting the last strap, freeing Zylar from his restraints. "I was only able to disable the escorts with a small EMP, my guess is they've got their systems rebooted and are heading with all speed towards the transport. We've got maybe a few minutes to beat feet."
"After you then." Zylar said pushing off the floor and floating with ease after the small woman. "The guards on the transport, did you--"
"Kill them? As if. My little ship isn't capable of even denting the shields on a ship like this." as they approached the airlock. "I forced a ship firmware update back on Stuttgart with a vulnerability in the reactor subsystems. After that it was easy to bypass the security system to perform a full system shutdown. Right after the trade lane shoved them out midflight, the reactor suddenly went into an uninterruptable maintenance cycle and disabled all systems on the ship."
"I felt the ship shake from weapons fire though."
"That wasn't weapons fire prese, that was just the reactor powering off. Thought gramps said you were pilot. You shoulda recognized that."
"Been several years since I was even outside of a gravity well, sue me for not having my space legs under me anymore."
The airlock door opened to her ship on the other side, Zylar followed as they drifted through the ship and into the cockpit.
"I'm not familiar with-" he started, not recognizing the configuration of the vessel.
"It's an old Junker vessel. A Salvager to be precise. It was left to me by my mom when she retired. Not many outside of the Junkers have been inside one so it's understandable you wouldn't recognize the ship. Strap in, we're going to be burning hard to get away from the escorts. I've already got them on long range sensors."
Zylar did as instructed and strapped himself into the co-pilots seat. No sooner than he buckled the final strap, that Lana hit the cruise engines slamming him back into his seat at just over 2g's.
"Unknown vessel." he heard over the comms. "This is Bretonia Navy Escort for transport vessel Dunwich. Cut your thrust and prepare to be boarded."
"Sorry, Bretonian Navy Escort, you're a bit outside of your jurisdiction." replied Lana over the comms. "Guess you're gonna have to kick rocks."
"You have attacked a Bretonian Naval Transport vessel and are subject to Bretonian laws. You will cut thrust or you will be fired upon."
"Sorry. One, I didn't fire any weapons. Two, I came upon the vessel and noted that it was a naval vessel. I left as soon as I discovered it was a military ship. You have no rights to detain or stop me outside of Bretonian space. Any weapons fire in my direction is equivalent to an act of war towards my people. I think you have enough to worry about in Bretonia don't you think?" Lana responded through gritted teeth.
There was silence on the receiving end.
"The transport." Zylar croaked out under the gee forces. "It's still powered down?"
"The reactor's maintenance cycle it still ongoing. Power from my ship dropped off so they don't have anyway to open the airlocks except to force them open. The rest of the ship is in full lockdown."
"Then they won't know I'm missing, your bluff should get us out of here."
She nodded curtly. Zylar knew that she knew this, his statement was more for his own sanity.
"Confirmed, Junker vessel. Continue on your way. Any deviation on your course back in our direction will be considered an act of aggression and we will disable your vessel. Good flying."
"To you as well, Naval vessel." Lana replied and toggled off the comm. sensor. "Looks I just got you away scott free, Mr. Vespertine."
"My question is why." Zylar replied immediately.
"Well, that's a question that you'll have to save for my mother." she replied with a grin. "We've got a bit of a flight ahead of us so get comfortable."
"We're still technically in one of the border world systems." she said in a business-like matter-of-fact tone. "However, that doesn't mean that Bretonia is gonna be overly thrilled a transport with a high profile prisoner got hijacked. They may, 'forget' and overstep their bounds."
"Can't imagine the IMG being too happy about that." Zylar commented, relived that this girl wasn't out for revenge. "Can I ask why you're here?"
"No time to talk." she replied cutting the last strap, freeing Zylar from his restraints. "I was only able to disable the escorts with a small EMP, my guess is they've got their systems rebooted and are heading with all speed towards the transport. We've got maybe a few minutes to beat feet."
"After you then." Zylar said pushing off the floor and floating with ease after the small woman. "The guards on the transport, did you--"
"Kill them? As if. My little ship isn't capable of even denting the shields on a ship like this." as they approached the airlock. "I forced a ship firmware update back on Stuttgart with a vulnerability in the reactor subsystems. After that it was easy to bypass the security system to perform a full system shutdown. Right after the trade lane shoved them out midflight, the reactor suddenly went into an uninterruptable maintenance cycle and disabled all systems on the ship."
"I felt the ship shake from weapons fire though."
"That wasn't weapons fire prese, that was just the reactor powering off. Thought gramps said you were pilot. You shoulda recognized that."
"Been several years since I was even outside of a gravity well, sue me for not having my space legs under me anymore."
The airlock door opened to her ship on the other side, Zylar followed as they drifted through the ship and into the cockpit.
"I'm not familiar with-" he started, not recognizing the configuration of the vessel.
"It's an old Junker vessel. A Salvager to be precise. It was left to me by my mom when she retired. Not many outside of the Junkers have been inside one so it's understandable you wouldn't recognize the ship. Strap in, we're going to be burning hard to get away from the escorts. I've already got them on long range sensors."
Zylar did as instructed and strapped himself into the co-pilots seat. No sooner than he buckled the final strap, that Lana hit the cruise engines slamming him back into his seat at just over 2g's.
"Unknown vessel." he heard over the comms. "This is Bretonia Navy Escort for transport vessel Dunwich. Cut your thrust and prepare to be boarded."
"Sorry, Bretonian Navy Escort, you're a bit outside of your jurisdiction." replied Lana over the comms. "Guess you're gonna have to kick rocks."
"You have attacked a Bretonian Naval Transport vessel and are subject to Bretonian laws. You will cut thrust or you will be fired upon."
"Sorry. One, I didn't fire any weapons. Two, I came upon the vessel and noted that it was a naval vessel. I left as soon as I discovered it was a military ship. You have no rights to detain or stop me outside of Bretonian space. Any weapons fire in my direction is equivalent to an act of war towards my people. I think you have enough to worry about in Bretonia don't you think?" Lana responded through gritted teeth.
There was silence on the receiving end.
"The transport." Zylar croaked out under the gee forces. "It's still powered down?"
"The reactor's maintenance cycle it still ongoing. Power from my ship dropped off so they don't have anyway to open the airlocks except to force them open. The rest of the ship is in full lockdown."
"Then they won't know I'm missing, your bluff should get us out of here."
She nodded curtly. Zylar knew that she knew this, his statement was more for his own sanity.
"Confirmed, Junker vessel. Continue on your way. Any deviation on your course back in our direction will be considered an act of aggression and we will disable your vessel. Good flying."
"To you as well, Naval vessel." Lana replied and toggled off the comm. sensor. "Looks I just got you away scott free, Mr. Vespertine."
"My question is why." Zylar replied immediately.
"Well, that's a question that you'll have to save for my mother." she replied with a grin. "We've got a bit of a flight ahead of us so get comfortable."
RE: Vesper - Leo - 04-25-2022
Getting comfortable was not possible. It had been years since Zylar had been under heavy gee forces. It had been even longer since he had been jumping through Jumpgates and Jumpholes at this rate. Every time they went through one or the other, Zylars sense of reality warped before being snapped by like some elastic unseen force. It was jarring to have happen once, but multiple times in quick succession was daunting.
"Feeling okay?" Lana said from the pilots seat.
"Just not used to this long in the seat anymore." he said using the analogy for being in a pilots seat for an extended period of time.
"Sorry about that. We just came through into Coronado. Last jump. Just a few more minutes under cruise and we'll be at Barrier's Gate."
The Salvager jumped away into cruise pinning Zylar back to his seat under a 2gee burn. Zylar began to cycle through his mind what he would say to Lana's mother when they arrived. Would he apologize to her for getting her father murdered? Would he ghost Lana and try to find his own way off of the station? Would he ask why she saved him from certain death at the hands of his former masters?
The gee forces let up as microgravity caused him to float against his harness.
"Barrier Gate, this is Junker Alpha 3-44. Requesting permission to dock." Lana said into the comm.
"Copy that, Junker Alpha 3-44. You're cleared to moor to mooring point 4. Welcome home Grimwolfe." replied the station.
"Copy that, proceeding to mooring point 4. Good to be home." Lana replied toggling off the comm. system and maneuvered the ship to the mooring point specified.
"I heard Reggie called Grimwolfe on more than one occasion." Zylar commented to no one.
"That was his callsign. This is his old ship after all."
"Thought it was your mothers."
"And before her," she said docking the ship to the mooring point causing the ship to rock slightly from the impact, "it was his." she said completing the sentence. "I'll let my mother know we're here. You can head to the bar and we'll meet you there."
She unhooked her harness and departed without another word, leaving Zylar to his thoughts.
"Guess I'll head to the bar then..."
Zylar ordered his usual, an Old Fashioned, and sat down at the end of the bar to wait. The drink wasn't as good as it would be on Stuttgart. Then again, there this would be made with real Whiskey and not the fake stuff. He shrugged and took another drag. At least he could get a decent buzz from this stuff even though it tasted like a**.
"Zylar Vespertine?" he heard Lana say from behind him. He swiveled his barstool to face her. "My mother, Dianna Hatcher." she said gesturing to an older version of herself. Zylar started to extend his hand before he was met with a fist to the face.
"Stupid, Bretonian, Swine!" the older Hatcher spat.
"Mother!" Lana exclaimed jumping between her and Zylar.
"This stupid bastard got your grandfather killed...but..." she sighed and covered her face with her hand.
"I tried to save him..." Zylar said looking down, ignoring the sting of the fresh wound on his face. He shed a tear, it mixing with the blood seeping from the cut on his cheek.
"Who was it." she said matter-of-factly just as Lana had spoken when he first met her.
"Milo. Didn't catch his-" he started.
"That two timing trash filled swill!" she said hurtling Zylar's half finished glass of Whiskey across the bar.
"Hey! Dianna!" yelled the Bartender. "None of that s*** or I'll kick your a** out of this bar!"
"Ah shut it, Terry. I keep this place open by myself you stupid-"
"Mother! Focus!" Lana yelled again. The older woman composed herself. "I'm sorry, Zylar. Mother is a bit-"
"Angry. I'm blindingly angry and I take it out on others. I'm sorry. I believe you when you say you tried to save him."
"I wasn't fast enough...just like I wasn't fast enough to save..." Zylar shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm sorry I couldn't save him in time...but that brings me to why the hell you saved me from the Bretonian Navy. Surely you had enough bad feelings towards me to let me rot in a Bretonian prison for the rest of my life."
"Reggie didn't want that." Lana cut in seeing her mothers angry reaction to his sentence. "He...he kind of left you some stuff."
"Lana, dear..." Dianna said. "You brought the will, correct?"
Lana pulled out a small handheld and passed it to Zylar. On the front was a read out indicating that he place his hand on the panel. As he did so, a Last Will and Testament appeared on the screen along with a video attachment. He hit play as he saw Reggie sitting in front of the camera.
"So, Zylar. I'm guessing I'm dead." he shrugged. "Nothing doing but to move on I figure. I either died in my sleep or in a fight. Either way, dead's dead in my book and I ain't got no room for any of my crap. Over the years I acquired a lot of stuff. Most of it I have no use for anymore. I'm an old man now and if I'm dead, then I really got no use for it.
"You know I was a smuggler, what you don't know is how good I was at it. You probably figured I was blowing smoke up your a** about it, but I wasn't. Attached on this will of mine is a credit chip for around 250,000,000 credits and all of the wills to my vessels that I have in storage at Coronado. Minus the Grimwolfe of course, that's a family ship you see."
Zylar glanced up at the two women standing near him. Both with a look of shock on their faces at the value that Reggie had just left him. He returned his attention to the screen.
"Do whatcha want with all of it. Just promise me that you'll raise hell and burn a few empires down along the way. Get rich, get loaded, and have a blast doing it. I'll keep your seat warm where ever we wind up going when we kick the bucket...until then..." he smiled with a salute and the video ended replaced by the will stating everything that Reggie had just said. Zylar sat the hand terminal down on the counter his hands still shaking.
"That old bastard!" Dianna said finally speaking up. "He was always mooching off of me!"
Zylar checked his account terminal and saw that a new account had been opened as "Albus Lepus" with the 250 million credits in the account. Zylar smiled.
"White Rabbit." he said to himself before turning to Dianna.
"Dianna." he said to get her attention. "I'm giving you and your daughter 150 million of the money he gave to me."
"Y-you what?" she said in shock.
"It's only fair for services rendered." and sent the request to her and Lana's handhelds. When the sync was completed he sent 75 million each to them before standing. "Now, let's go check out these ships he left me."
"Feeling okay?" Lana said from the pilots seat.
"Just not used to this long in the seat anymore." he said using the analogy for being in a pilots seat for an extended period of time.
"Sorry about that. We just came through into Coronado. Last jump. Just a few more minutes under cruise and we'll be at Barrier's Gate."
The Salvager jumped away into cruise pinning Zylar back to his seat under a 2gee burn. Zylar began to cycle through his mind what he would say to Lana's mother when they arrived. Would he apologize to her for getting her father murdered? Would he ghost Lana and try to find his own way off of the station? Would he ask why she saved him from certain death at the hands of his former masters?
The gee forces let up as microgravity caused him to float against his harness.
"Barrier Gate, this is Junker Alpha 3-44. Requesting permission to dock." Lana said into the comm.
"Copy that, Junker Alpha 3-44. You're cleared to moor to mooring point 4. Welcome home Grimwolfe." replied the station.
"Copy that, proceeding to mooring point 4. Good to be home." Lana replied toggling off the comm. system and maneuvered the ship to the mooring point specified.
"I heard Reggie called Grimwolfe on more than one occasion." Zylar commented to no one.
"That was his callsign. This is his old ship after all."
"Thought it was your mothers."
"And before her," she said docking the ship to the mooring point causing the ship to rock slightly from the impact, "it was his." she said completing the sentence. "I'll let my mother know we're here. You can head to the bar and we'll meet you there."
She unhooked her harness and departed without another word, leaving Zylar to his thoughts.
"Guess I'll head to the bar then..."
Zylar ordered his usual, an Old Fashioned, and sat down at the end of the bar to wait. The drink wasn't as good as it would be on Stuttgart. Then again, there this would be made with real Whiskey and not the fake stuff. He shrugged and took another drag. At least he could get a decent buzz from this stuff even though it tasted like a**.
"Zylar Vespertine?" he heard Lana say from behind him. He swiveled his barstool to face her. "My mother, Dianna Hatcher." she said gesturing to an older version of herself. Zylar started to extend his hand before he was met with a fist to the face.
"Stupid, Bretonian, Swine!" the older Hatcher spat.
"Mother!" Lana exclaimed jumping between her and Zylar.
"This stupid bastard got your grandfather killed...but..." she sighed and covered her face with her hand.
"I tried to save him..." Zylar said looking down, ignoring the sting of the fresh wound on his face. He shed a tear, it mixing with the blood seeping from the cut on his cheek.
"Who was it." she said matter-of-factly just as Lana had spoken when he first met her.
"Milo. Didn't catch his-" he started.
"That two timing trash filled swill!" she said hurtling Zylar's half finished glass of Whiskey across the bar.
"Hey! Dianna!" yelled the Bartender. "None of that s*** or I'll kick your a** out of this bar!"
"Ah shut it, Terry. I keep this place open by myself you stupid-"
"Mother! Focus!" Lana yelled again. The older woman composed herself. "I'm sorry, Zylar. Mother is a bit-"
"Angry. I'm blindingly angry and I take it out on others. I'm sorry. I believe you when you say you tried to save him."
"I wasn't fast enough...just like I wasn't fast enough to save..." Zylar shook his head. "Doesn't matter. I'm sorry I couldn't save him in time...but that brings me to why the hell you saved me from the Bretonian Navy. Surely you had enough bad feelings towards me to let me rot in a Bretonian prison for the rest of my life."
"Reggie didn't want that." Lana cut in seeing her mothers angry reaction to his sentence. "He...he kind of left you some stuff."
"Lana, dear..." Dianna said. "You brought the will, correct?"
Lana pulled out a small handheld and passed it to Zylar. On the front was a read out indicating that he place his hand on the panel. As he did so, a Last Will and Testament appeared on the screen along with a video attachment. He hit play as he saw Reggie sitting in front of the camera.
"So, Zylar. I'm guessing I'm dead." he shrugged. "Nothing doing but to move on I figure. I either died in my sleep or in a fight. Either way, dead's dead in my book and I ain't got no room for any of my crap. Over the years I acquired a lot of stuff. Most of it I have no use for anymore. I'm an old man now and if I'm dead, then I really got no use for it.
"You know I was a smuggler, what you don't know is how good I was at it. You probably figured I was blowing smoke up your a** about it, but I wasn't. Attached on this will of mine is a credit chip for around 250,000,000 credits and all of the wills to my vessels that I have in storage at Coronado. Minus the Grimwolfe of course, that's a family ship you see."
Zylar glanced up at the two women standing near him. Both with a look of shock on their faces at the value that Reggie had just left him. He returned his attention to the screen.
"Do whatcha want with all of it. Just promise me that you'll raise hell and burn a few empires down along the way. Get rich, get loaded, and have a blast doing it. I'll keep your seat warm where ever we wind up going when we kick the bucket...until then..." he smiled with a salute and the video ended replaced by the will stating everything that Reggie had just said. Zylar sat the hand terminal down on the counter his hands still shaking.
"That old bastard!" Dianna said finally speaking up. "He was always mooching off of me!"
Zylar checked his account terminal and saw that a new account had been opened as "Albus Lepus" with the 250 million credits in the account. Zylar smiled.
"White Rabbit." he said to himself before turning to Dianna.
"Dianna." he said to get her attention. "I'm giving you and your daughter 150 million of the money he gave to me."
"Y-you what?" she said in shock.
"It's only fair for services rendered." and sent the request to her and Lana's handhelds. When the sync was completed he sent 75 million each to them before standing. "Now, let's go check out these ships he left me."
RE: Vesper - Leo - 04-26-2022
As Zylar walked down the old deck plating towards his new ships, his mind began to recount the past couple of days.
As he recounted the days in his head, not all of it added up.
Firstly, Reggie and Zylar had barely had any interaction time. He'd helped Zylar land on his feet after arriving in Stuttgart, true. But to leave him his entire empire and not his family? There was something more there, but he'd have to figure out the specifics another time. With what little he'd interacted with Reggie at the bar, he knew that the man was a learned explorer. He'd recount his tales of adventure to the many patrons who would come through the bar on the regular. Painting grand adventures of running from aliens and law enforcement both. He knew he was an avid reader and regularly quoted Alice in Wonderland which is why he smiled at the name the account was opened in. Albus Lepus. Latin for White Rabbit.
Secondly, why the hell would Dianna or Lana save him from his impending doom? It was evident that they knew he was there with Reggie died. Even Dianna blamed him for his death in part. Reggie glanced behind him at the two women following him to the docking platform. There was more there too, but he'd have to dig to find it. He was certain they wouldn't come clean if he asked point blank. Nothing doing but to play along with whatever this was. He'd already paid them for services rendered in his escape. They deserved that much. He figured Reggie would agree.
As they rounded the final corner to the docking and vessel storage platform, he began to take a list.
Zylar snorted to himself. He was no leader, much less an emperor...but a plan had begun to form in the back of his mind after hearing the amount of credits and ships that Reggie had left him...and his parting words in the video he'd left..."Just promise me you'll raise hell and burn a few empire down along the way."
As he arrived at the storage platform, he stopped in front of four ships.
Zylar smiled and looked at the ships that were now in his possession.
"Time to burn a few empires down."
- He'd walked in on a shakedown of his boss, Reggie McAllister, and watched him die at the hands of a deadbeat thug.
- The police were called (probably by Milo to set him up) and he'd been arrested for murder.
- Rheinland Police had called Bretonia (a surprising item by itself) and they had been called in to take him back to Bretonia under arrest for his desertion during the Gallic war.
- He'd been freed by a woman claiming to be the granddaughter of Reggie.
- He'd been introduced to Reggie's daughter a few days later in Coronado and given a will with 250 million credits and a fleet of ships.
As he recounted the days in his head, not all of it added up.
Firstly, Reggie and Zylar had barely had any interaction time. He'd helped Zylar land on his feet after arriving in Stuttgart, true. But to leave him his entire empire and not his family? There was something more there, but he'd have to figure out the specifics another time. With what little he'd interacted with Reggie at the bar, he knew that the man was a learned explorer. He'd recount his tales of adventure to the many patrons who would come through the bar on the regular. Painting grand adventures of running from aliens and law enforcement both. He knew he was an avid reader and regularly quoted Alice in Wonderland which is why he smiled at the name the account was opened in. Albus Lepus. Latin for White Rabbit.
Secondly, why the hell would Dianna or Lana save him from his impending doom? It was evident that they knew he was there with Reggie died. Even Dianna blamed him for his death in part. Reggie glanced behind him at the two women following him to the docking platform. There was more there too, but he'd have to dig to find it. He was certain they wouldn't come clean if he asked point blank. Nothing doing but to play along with whatever this was. He'd already paid them for services rendered in his escape. They deserved that much. He figured Reggie would agree.
As they rounded the final corner to the docking and vessel storage platform, he began to take a list.
- He was going to find Milo and beat the man to death with his own arms.
- Turn the 100 million he had left into more through investments, trading, and other avenues.
- Create an empire?
Zylar snorted to himself. He was no leader, much less an emperor...but a plan had begun to form in the back of his mind after hearing the amount of credits and ships that Reggie had left him...and his parting words in the video he'd left..."Just promise me you'll raise hell and burn a few empire down along the way."
As he arrived at the storage platform, he stopped in front of four ships.
- A Border World Gunboat named White Rabbit.
- A Border World Transport named Albus Lepus.
- A Civilian VHF named Beanstalk.
- A Sunburst without a name.
Zylar smiled and looked at the ships that were now in his possession.
"Time to burn a few empires down."
//From here until the next post, view log entries from events in game
RE: Vesper - Leo - 05-01-2022
Continuing from this log post.
"Entry point located. Detecting module point for Docking Bay. None detected. Spacewalk will be required to access vessel."
"Hmmm." Zylar said stroking his beard. "No docking module. That'll be a bit tricky to get inside." he looked down in dismay at his Vac suit. "Better hope to whatever deity is out there that I don't accidentally tear the suit. Or else I'm gonna be sucking vacuum and this battleship, or whatever it is, won't be the only wreck out here."
He piloted the Borderworlds Transport into the area indicated by the scanners and carefully sat it down on the platform reserved for a docking module. He checked his suit one last time and with a pressurized hiss, equipped the helmet.
"Albus Lepus" he said indicating for the ships computer. "Power down to minimal levels, power off life support and resume on my return."
"Affirmative." came the crisp reply of the assistant AI. He heard the ship power down and the lights shut off shortly after.
"That should help save power if I need to keep searching this system for a way home. No sense using power when I'm not even on board. Here's to hoping there's some space charts in here or something that I can use to find my way back."
Zylar waited until the airlock cycled and stepped out on to the platform of the ship, his Vac suit mag boots making a "whomp" sound with every step he took. He stood outside for a moment simply staring around at the gargantuan size of the module port.
"Big damn ship." he mumbled under his breath. "Need to find an entry point and see if I can figure out the make and model. Will help me navigate once I get inside."
"If it's even a human ship." he thought to himself and shivered.
"Calm down Zylar." he said as he walked towards what looked an an access port. "Don't psych yourself out just yet. You only just got here."
He thought back to the training he'd gone through in the Navy. Spacewalks weren't ever advised unless absolutely required for either ship repair or rescue. He figured this was as close to a rescue as he could get, at least he'd be rescuing himself.
He arrived at the access port and inspected it.
"Mmm. Looks like it might be Zoner architecture." he mused to himself "Fairly old but at least I can assume this is a human ship."
He reached out and grabbed hold of the manual release lever but it refused the budge after all the years being exposed to space without any maintenance.
"Well, this isn't gonna work." he said looking around. "Still got about three hours of air left in the tanks. I could go get a cutter and just cut through the access panel to get inside but that'd take too long..." he glanced at his transport parked a few hundred meters away. "Ah, I've got an idea...it's a fairly stupid idea but it's all I've got at the moment."
The idea required him going back to the transport, which he did. The ship powered on as he approached. He climbed inside and brought it closer to the access hatch.
"No shields, no problem." he said and fired a single burst from the turrets on the ship. There was slight blowback as the transport was pushed backwards away from the impact. When the dust, or whatever it was outside, cleared--the door remained unbroken but it did seem to be a little less corroded by the exposure to space. He fired a few more times for good measure and sat the transport back down on the deck.
"Albus, maintain power."
"Affirmative." replied the AI. He climbed back out of the ship and walked back towards the door.
The hatch was undamaged. A testament to Zoner engineering. He pulled the lever again for the manual release and, this time, it slowly began moving. It felt like he was pulling an entire planet as the lever slowly began to release. The door groaned in protest, being opened for the first time in who knows how long. A few minutes later, the door was open wide enough for him to step through.
"Christ." he said panting. "This had better be worth it." he grumbled. He shined the light on the arm of his Vac suit into the partially opened door. "I think I'll take a short break in the transport before going in, opening that door really took it out of me."
He rested for a few moments in the transport, taking a break from the Vac suit, recharging it with oxygen, and enjoying a quick bite to eat from his MRE.
"Wonder how this thing got out here." he said musing to himself. "Maybe it ran into the same...whatever it was that I did. If that's the case it doesn't bode very well for me getting home."
Zylar had never even considered that he could get thrown outside of Sirius by a Jumphole. Hell, he could be on the other side of the Galaxy for all he knew. Ageira did always say to avoid contact with Jumpholes but he figured that was just them trying to maintain traffic through their Jump Gates.
"Got egg on my face." he said answering his thoughts as he took the last bite of his food. "Guess there's nothing doing but to get out and see what we're working with here."
He cycled the air lock and jumped out of his ship onto the platform below. The mag boots pulled him towards the deck with a loud "whomp" and he proceeded inside the ship. As he walked down the initial hallway, he was amazed at how clean everything was inside considering how long the ship had been exposed to vacuum. Yet another testament to Zoner engineering.
"Should get a ship or two from them." he commented to himself. He made it to a junction point and there was an old map on the wall. "A non-digital map? How old is this girl? Let's see...Nephilim Class...Zoner Colony Ship. Huh. That'd explain what it's doing out here and the massive size too. They might've been trying to start a colony but got stuck in this ice field maybe?"
He considered his surroundings and then a thought raced through his mind.
"Colony ships have built in jump drives. I don't have coordinates though and risking a blind jump is...well...stupid. Could end up in a planet or star." he mused to himself for a moment and shrugged "Better than starving to death I suppose. Probably quicker too. Let's see...where's the command deck..."
"Hmmm." Zylar said stroking his beard. "No docking module. That'll be a bit tricky to get inside." he looked down in dismay at his Vac suit. "Better hope to whatever deity is out there that I don't accidentally tear the suit. Or else I'm gonna be sucking vacuum and this battleship, or whatever it is, won't be the only wreck out here."
He piloted the Borderworlds Transport into the area indicated by the scanners and carefully sat it down on the platform reserved for a docking module. He checked his suit one last time and with a pressurized hiss, equipped the helmet.
"Albus Lepus" he said indicating for the ships computer. "Power down to minimal levels, power off life support and resume on my return."
"Affirmative." came the crisp reply of the assistant AI. He heard the ship power down and the lights shut off shortly after.
"That should help save power if I need to keep searching this system for a way home. No sense using power when I'm not even on board. Here's to hoping there's some space charts in here or something that I can use to find my way back."
Zylar waited until the airlock cycled and stepped out on to the platform of the ship, his Vac suit mag boots making a "whomp" sound with every step he took. He stood outside for a moment simply staring around at the gargantuan size of the module port.
"Big damn ship." he mumbled under his breath. "Need to find an entry point and see if I can figure out the make and model. Will help me navigate once I get inside."
"If it's even a human ship." he thought to himself and shivered.
"Calm down Zylar." he said as he walked towards what looked an an access port. "Don't psych yourself out just yet. You only just got here."
He thought back to the training he'd gone through in the Navy. Spacewalks weren't ever advised unless absolutely required for either ship repair or rescue. He figured this was as close to a rescue as he could get, at least he'd be rescuing himself.
He arrived at the access port and inspected it.
"Mmm. Looks like it might be Zoner architecture." he mused to himself "Fairly old but at least I can assume this is a human ship."
He reached out and grabbed hold of the manual release lever but it refused the budge after all the years being exposed to space without any maintenance.
"Well, this isn't gonna work." he said looking around. "Still got about three hours of air left in the tanks. I could go get a cutter and just cut through the access panel to get inside but that'd take too long..." he glanced at his transport parked a few hundred meters away. "Ah, I've got an idea...it's a fairly stupid idea but it's all I've got at the moment."
The idea required him going back to the transport, which he did. The ship powered on as he approached. He climbed inside and brought it closer to the access hatch.
"No shields, no problem." he said and fired a single burst from the turrets on the ship. There was slight blowback as the transport was pushed backwards away from the impact. When the dust, or whatever it was outside, cleared--the door remained unbroken but it did seem to be a little less corroded by the exposure to space. He fired a few more times for good measure and sat the transport back down on the deck.
"Albus, maintain power."
"Affirmative." replied the AI. He climbed back out of the ship and walked back towards the door.
The hatch was undamaged. A testament to Zoner engineering. He pulled the lever again for the manual release and, this time, it slowly began moving. It felt like he was pulling an entire planet as the lever slowly began to release. The door groaned in protest, being opened for the first time in who knows how long. A few minutes later, the door was open wide enough for him to step through.
"Christ." he said panting. "This had better be worth it." he grumbled. He shined the light on the arm of his Vac suit into the partially opened door. "I think I'll take a short break in the transport before going in, opening that door really took it out of me."
He rested for a few moments in the transport, taking a break from the Vac suit, recharging it with oxygen, and enjoying a quick bite to eat from his MRE.
"Wonder how this thing got out here." he said musing to himself. "Maybe it ran into the same...whatever it was that I did. If that's the case it doesn't bode very well for me getting home."
Zylar had never even considered that he could get thrown outside of Sirius by a Jumphole. Hell, he could be on the other side of the Galaxy for all he knew. Ageira did always say to avoid contact with Jumpholes but he figured that was just them trying to maintain traffic through their Jump Gates.
"Got egg on my face." he said answering his thoughts as he took the last bite of his food. "Guess there's nothing doing but to get out and see what we're working with here."
He cycled the air lock and jumped out of his ship onto the platform below. The mag boots pulled him towards the deck with a loud "whomp" and he proceeded inside the ship. As he walked down the initial hallway, he was amazed at how clean everything was inside considering how long the ship had been exposed to vacuum. Yet another testament to Zoner engineering.
"Should get a ship or two from them." he commented to himself. He made it to a junction point and there was an old map on the wall. "A non-digital map? How old is this girl? Let's see...Nephilim Class...Zoner Colony Ship. Huh. That'd explain what it's doing out here and the massive size too. They might've been trying to start a colony but got stuck in this ice field maybe?"
He considered his surroundings and then a thought raced through his mind.
"Colony ships have built in jump drives. I don't have coordinates though and risking a blind jump is...well...stupid. Could end up in a planet or star." he mused to himself for a moment and shrugged "Better than starving to death I suppose. Probably quicker too. Let's see...where's the command deck..."
RE: Vesper - Leo - 05-01-2022
It took him the better part of two hours wandering around until he started figuring out the ships design. The weirdest part is there were no bodies. No dead colonists. He found a few escape pods and noted that they'd been deployed. Maybe they jettisoned and took their chances finding a habitable planet nearby.
"Oxygen levels at under 30%." his suit reminded him just as he finished climbing up yet another level in the maintenance tunnels.
"Thanks for the reminder." he mumbled and pulled out his secondary canister and attached it to the resupply node.
"Oxygen levels at 92%" chimed the voice.
"If it gets lower than 60% I need to head back. Hopefully this is it."
Most of the doors opened with some effort. Some more than others. This door opened easily as he pulled the manual release and was welcomed with a command deck. Sitting in the command chair was desiccated corpse of a man wearing a vaguely familiar Zoner uniform.
"Went down with the ship, eh?" he said to the corpse. "I can respect that." he commented paying his respects to the man. "I hope your crew found a place to survive."
He looked around the command deck and got himself familiar with where things were.
"Power might not even be active anymore. I'd be surprised if-" he started as his eyes landed on the arm rest of the captains chair. A light blipped for half a second and disappeared. Zylar's eyes locked on it for what felt like an eternity. Then another light blipped. He moved over to the captains chair and to the dead body. Once again, he paid his respects to the man.
"Sorry about this, sir." he said carefully moving the skeletal arm away from the control pad. "Now, if this is what I think it is, he might have powered down the ship in the event the ship was found so that Zoners could get the it back to Sirius...and powering up a ship of this size after being offline for an extended period of time is going to be...dangerous. I wouldn't be surprised if it explodes...but..." he shrugged. "...Zoner engineering hasn't let me down yet and I'd rather explode than starve."
He pressed his finger down where he saw the light. At first, nothing happened. Then a console lit up near the front of the command deck. Zylar approached it and read the display.
"About what I figured. Ship is in standby mode. It powered on the sensors around the ship for an assessment of all the systems onboard. At least it didn't power on fully." he scrolled through the main systems taking an assessment. "Cruise engines are toast. Shield generators aren't looking good either. Weapons are...gone. Huh, weird. Not gonna question that. Both habitats are exposed to vacuum...jump drives are operational and have a 60% charge. Might be enough for a single blind jump. Life support might as well be non-existent. Energy levels are below 10% so the rest of the ship won't run for long if I were to power up everything to maximum."
Zylar though to himself as he looked at the screen.
"If I slave my transport to the Nephilim's power system and cut power to the cruise engines, shields, weapons, habitats, and life support and only power the jump drives, I might have enough power for one risky jump. Would probably drain all remaining power from my transport. Should I roll the dice? I wonder if the Zoners would let me keep her...and if it doesn't work..." he shrugged thinking of his late wife with a mirthless smile. "At least I'd get to see Jasmine again. Screw it, I'll head back to the Albus and see if I can't locate a place to moor to the ship and transfer all remaining power."
"Oxygen levels at under 30%." his suit reminded him just as he finished climbing up yet another level in the maintenance tunnels.
"Thanks for the reminder." he mumbled and pulled out his secondary canister and attached it to the resupply node.
"Oxygen levels at 92%" chimed the voice.
"If it gets lower than 60% I need to head back. Hopefully this is it."
Most of the doors opened with some effort. Some more than others. This door opened easily as he pulled the manual release and was welcomed with a command deck. Sitting in the command chair was desiccated corpse of a man wearing a vaguely familiar Zoner uniform.
"Went down with the ship, eh?" he said to the corpse. "I can respect that." he commented paying his respects to the man. "I hope your crew found a place to survive."
He looked around the command deck and got himself familiar with where things were.
"Power might not even be active anymore. I'd be surprised if-" he started as his eyes landed on the arm rest of the captains chair. A light blipped for half a second and disappeared. Zylar's eyes locked on it for what felt like an eternity. Then another light blipped. He moved over to the captains chair and to the dead body. Once again, he paid his respects to the man.
"Sorry about this, sir." he said carefully moving the skeletal arm away from the control pad. "Now, if this is what I think it is, he might have powered down the ship in the event the ship was found so that Zoners could get the it back to Sirius...and powering up a ship of this size after being offline for an extended period of time is going to be...dangerous. I wouldn't be surprised if it explodes...but..." he shrugged. "...Zoner engineering hasn't let me down yet and I'd rather explode than starve."
He pressed his finger down where he saw the light. At first, nothing happened. Then a console lit up near the front of the command deck. Zylar approached it and read the display.
"About what I figured. Ship is in standby mode. It powered on the sensors around the ship for an assessment of all the systems onboard. At least it didn't power on fully." he scrolled through the main systems taking an assessment. "Cruise engines are toast. Shield generators aren't looking good either. Weapons are...gone. Huh, weird. Not gonna question that. Both habitats are exposed to vacuum...jump drives are operational and have a 60% charge. Might be enough for a single blind jump. Life support might as well be non-existent. Energy levels are below 10% so the rest of the ship won't run for long if I were to power up everything to maximum."
Zylar though to himself as he looked at the screen.
"If I slave my transport to the Nephilim's power system and cut power to the cruise engines, shields, weapons, habitats, and life support and only power the jump drives, I might have enough power for one risky jump. Would probably drain all remaining power from my transport. Should I roll the dice? I wonder if the Zoners would let me keep her...and if it doesn't work..." he shrugged thinking of his late wife with a mirthless smile. "At least I'd get to see Jasmine again. Screw it, I'll head back to the Albus and see if I can't locate a place to moor to the ship and transfer all remaining power."
RE: Vesper - Leo - 05-01-2022
It took Zylar another hour to get back to the ship now that he knew how to get around. He took off the Vac suit, took a quick shower onboard the ship and then searched for a Mooring point near the entry point he'd used to gain entry to the ship. After finding one nearby, he re-equipped the Vac suit, downloaded the AI--it might be only an assistant AI with no sentience, but he was fond of it anyway--and transferred all remaining power to the giant Nephilim ship. The Albus Lepus stuttered and died shortly after, all it's remaining power transferred to the massive ship. He knew it wouldn't be much, but it might be enough to get him home.
He exited the ship one last time and walked on the hull of the ship back over to the module point, entered the ship after a thirty minute walk, made his way back to the command deck and checked the console. The entire trip had taken another four hours.
"42 hours awake." he mumbled to himself. "After this, if I get home, I need a damn drink...let's see. The power is now at 23%. Not bad, for a transport vessel. Probably fried the batteries on the Albus doing that but...oh well. Alright my lovely lady, time to come back to life...well sort of." He pressed the button to provide power to the Jump drive and it's batteries.
Now, Zylar had never really been in command of anything over the size of a fighter, so it was understandable when he made this monumentally stupid mistake. Jump drives were normally powered down when not in use. When power was applied, they'd activate and begin their charge. If coordinates aren't input before hand, the ship blind jumps. Plus, on top of that, this massive ship had been sitting for a possibly very long time so it's coils weren't properly aligned for a jump. Doing a jump in a huge vessel like this...with that...well, it was going to do a lot of damage.
A couple things happened at once. One, the sensation that Zylar normally felt with a Jumphole or Jumpgate was usually disorientation for a few moments. This was nothing like that. This was like someone had ripped his consciousness out of his body, used it as a cleaning rag, played basketball with it, and slammed it back into his body with the force of a star going supernova. The result was him vomiting violently all over the inside of his Vac suit.
Two, the ship made a very loud, very angry explosion noise immediately after the jump completed. If the ship had been fully powered up, there would have been emergency clarions going off everywhere warning that a large portion of the ship had been severely damaged. Because the coils weren't properly aligned, they didn't properly open and close the jump window at the correct points, so the hole had closed too early and the ship had forcefully wedged itself through a tear in space and time causing about 10% of the ships rear being scissor pinched as it came through the other side of the jump.
"Well...I jumped." Zylar said groaning from the floor in a heap, covered in his own sick. "At least I died with dignity." he commented before passing out.
He exited the ship one last time and walked on the hull of the ship back over to the module point, entered the ship after a thirty minute walk, made his way back to the command deck and checked the console. The entire trip had taken another four hours.
"42 hours awake." he mumbled to himself. "After this, if I get home, I need a damn drink...let's see. The power is now at 23%. Not bad, for a transport vessel. Probably fried the batteries on the Albus doing that but...oh well. Alright my lovely lady, time to come back to life...well sort of." He pressed the button to provide power to the Jump drive and it's batteries.
Now, Zylar had never really been in command of anything over the size of a fighter, so it was understandable when he made this monumentally stupid mistake. Jump drives were normally powered down when not in use. When power was applied, they'd activate and begin their charge. If coordinates aren't input before hand, the ship blind jumps. Plus, on top of that, this massive ship had been sitting for a possibly very long time so it's coils weren't properly aligned for a jump. Doing a jump in a huge vessel like this...with that...well, it was going to do a lot of damage.
A couple things happened at once. One, the sensation that Zylar normally felt with a Jumphole or Jumpgate was usually disorientation for a few moments. This was nothing like that. This was like someone had ripped his consciousness out of his body, used it as a cleaning rag, played basketball with it, and slammed it back into his body with the force of a star going supernova. The result was him vomiting violently all over the inside of his Vac suit.
Two, the ship made a very loud, very angry explosion noise immediately after the jump completed. If the ship had been fully powered up, there would have been emergency clarions going off everywhere warning that a large portion of the ship had been severely damaged. Because the coils weren't properly aligned, they didn't properly open and close the jump window at the correct points, so the hole had closed too early and the ship had forcefully wedged itself through a tear in space and time causing about 10% of the ships rear being scissor pinched as it came through the other side of the jump.
"Well...I jumped." Zylar said groaning from the floor in a heap, covered in his own sick. "At least I died with dignity." he commented before passing out.
RE: Vesper - Leo - 05-01-2022
He was dreaming that someone had thrown up in the bar again after drinking too much. He was in the process of cleaning up the puke when his reality snapped back into clarity. He sat up quickly and checked the Vac suit for tears or damage. He looked at the small OLED flex screen on his wrist and saw that he still had 73% of air left. He hadn't been out too long then. Good.
"The hell happened?" he stood slowly, still feeling woosy. "Let's not do that again."
He reached the console at the front and started looking through the readings.
"Damnit! A large portion of the ship is missing. Around 10% of the back of the ship is just gone. Engines are still there but still inoperative. Down to under 10% power again...crap! The jumpdrive is leaking radiation into the chassis." Zylar began flying through the menus and found the command. "Ejecting warp coils! I really hope the ejection system isn't offline..."
The ship shook and he verified that the coils had been ejected.
"Good. Confirmed ejected. Navigation, please tell me you're half working. Come on luck, hold on for just a bit longer..." he stared at the console for what felt like an eternity as the navigation system struggled to pinpoint his location. He was out of the ice cloud, so the jump had gone through...at least as well as it could. Zylar had known the ship would be damaged on the other side, but the amount of damage caused by one jump lead him to believe that he'd done it improperly. Not his fault he'd never served on the command deck of a battleship. Several errors kept popping up on screen but the process continued.
"W-w-w-warrrrning. Ship pow-ow-owwer reserves at less t-t-thannn...5%." he heard the onboard AI say over the intercomm.
"I know...come on..." he said coaxing the screen. A screen popped up with the results and he whooped once and read what it said. "Sensors indicate proximity to Omega-48, approximately 150k from nearest star...Omega-48. 78% accuracy...I've been there before a long time ago on a long distance reconnaissance mission." he paused to think to himself and a thought dawned on him. "There's a Zoner planet there! Come on power cells, hold out a little longer for me to transmit a mayday. Just a bit longer..." he said as he typed out his mayday to the Omega-48 system.
"The hell happened?" he stood slowly, still feeling woosy. "Let's not do that again."
He reached the console at the front and started looking through the readings.
"Damnit! A large portion of the ship is missing. Around 10% of the back of the ship is just gone. Engines are still there but still inoperative. Down to under 10% power again...crap! The jumpdrive is leaking radiation into the chassis." Zylar began flying through the menus and found the command. "Ejecting warp coils! I really hope the ejection system isn't offline..."
The ship shook and he verified that the coils had been ejected.
"Good. Confirmed ejected. Navigation, please tell me you're half working. Come on luck, hold on for just a bit longer..." he stared at the console for what felt like an eternity as the navigation system struggled to pinpoint his location. He was out of the ice cloud, so the jump had gone through...at least as well as it could. Zylar had known the ship would be damaged on the other side, but the amount of damage caused by one jump lead him to believe that he'd done it improperly. Not his fault he'd never served on the command deck of a battleship. Several errors kept popping up on screen but the process continued.
"W-w-w-warrrrning. Ship pow-ow-owwer reserves at less t-t-thannn...5%." he heard the onboard AI say over the intercomm.
"I know...come on..." he said coaxing the screen. A screen popped up with the results and he whooped once and read what it said. "Sensors indicate proximity to Omega-48, approximately 150k from nearest star...Omega-48. 78% accuracy...I've been there before a long time ago on a long distance reconnaissance mission." he paused to think to himself and a thought dawned on him. "There's a Zoner planet there! Come on power cells, hold out a little longer for me to transmit a mayday. Just a bit longer..." he said as he typed out his mayday to the Omega-48 system.