An Ol' Man's Memory: Katarn Dragonbourne RP

[Mr.Fabulous]

"Mommy... Mommy... ! Where are you, mommy...!"

"I'm right here, child... Oh no..."

"Mommy! What's going on, Mommy?!"

"Run! Run, my child, RUN!!!"

"Quickly! In here, my child!"

"I don't wanna go, Mommy! It's all dark!"

"There she is!"

"ARGH!!! NOOO!!! AAAAAAAAH!!!"

"... Mommy... Mommy...! What happened...?"

"Mommy...? MOMMY...?"

"MOOOOOOOMMYYYYYYYYYY!!!"


























"GYAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH!!!"











... Sweating and panting from shock, the old man finds himself on a bed in a small, metallic room, wearing white pajamas, the bed sheet covering his lower body...

[color=#99FFFF]... A... A dream...?

He looks around the room that surrounded him and observed its contents: it was tight at best, with only a bed, a small metal desk to its side corner of the room and a chair tucked beneath it, a pistol of rather large size placed meticulously on the top; to the opposite of the room was the door, which was only two paces away, and a small computer screen with a console on the bottom part lay to the wall beside it. There was a clear window that showed the outside glistening with many stars in its inky depths.

The bed alone seemed to occupy 1/3 of the total area to the right, the desk only 1/8.

He rubbed his head from a splitting headache coming up, and got up from his bed and sat on its rim, leaning his body a bit forward and making his head look downwards to fight off the headache.

[color=#99FFFF]... What... be that...? Where be that, I wonder...?

The old man rubs his forehead once again, but this time with his left robotic arm... He looked at the outside of the window, contemplating at the twinkling stars of space, then got up from the bed and stretched himself a bit to loosen up some joints.

... And what... be I dreaming... ?

He then opens up a drawer on the desk, and takes out an extremely-ragged costume: a desert-camo cargo pants that was lined with many pockets and was heavily patched-up; then a clean-white shirt followed by a vest so battleworn it had more stitches and patchworks than the original material it came with; afterwards a trench-coat so gunshot-ridden, burn-blazed, rip-torn and patched-up it looked as if it seen a couple of wars and was brimming with experience of battle; and finally took out a pair of rugged, worn-out combat boots below the desk, its seams still intact, but its body very patched-up as well.

After he changed into the said clothing and discarded the pajamas into the same desk drawer, he picked up the pistol and inspected it with thoughtfulness if it was in anyway tampered with... none... He then placed it into a holster already attached to the pants, and breathed a sigh of relief.

He then walks to the door and was just about to open it when he looked at the viewscreen beside it. He passed along in front of the computer, and tapped a few keys at the console until some codes came out:

Account name: Dragonbourne

Password: xxxxxxxxxx

options:
---ship status (1)
---cargo hold (2)
---lifeforms aboard (3)
---outside scanners (4)
---telemetry data (5)
---chronology data (6)
---log entry (7)

--- 5 ---

Telemetry data chosen: opening data --- --- ---

Current system: New Berlin
Current plane orientation: *free space*
Current coordinates: 6G
Current direction: West-South-West

---Log out? [Y/N]---

[Y]

---Saving Settings---
---Shutting Down---

As the computer screen blanked out, the old man gruffed and then went towards the front of the door.

As he was about to open it he stopped short and paused for a minute...

... Why I be dreaming... ?

Afterwards he shrugs his shoulders and proceeds to exit the metallic door...

-----------------------------------------

The old man soon finds himself in the ship bridge: its numerous consoles beeping and whirring to themselves from autopilot, and all of them glowing with different lights; its walls had signs of rust in various places, yet was decently well-maintained.

To the left and right were rows and rows of touchscreens that were lined with 4 empty chairs on each side: numerous data feeds were being processed and illustrated on the left wall, mostly which involved frequency-bandwidths, chatter from local transmissions and channel-adjustments; to the opposite wall showed some detailed data on the system they were in, the anomolies, scans from nearby ships that passed to and fro, and data regarding Telemetric Data.

To the front was a large, clear window that had a planet looming just on the other side, and stars filling up the rest, while on this side was a full line of computer-benches that had many touchscreen buttons which was covered with details on what the status the ship was in: component-integrity, hull-integrity, shield-integrity, velocity, plane orientation and many other gauges; before this line was another line of chairs that looked fit for 6 people to use.

At the very center was a rather-large chair that was planted down on the metallic floor with an alloy spine, with consoles of more touch-screen on its arms: it even had some cupholders on each arm, and had a comfy headrest for anyone willing to use it to relax.




He looked around a bit and first went to the front portion of the bridge and tapped a few buttons here and there; then he went to the left wall and pressed a lot of buttons around as he sat on the 2nd chair in the line; finally he stood up and sat on the comfy captain's chair, tapping some buttons on the right arm.

Eventually, the computer read the responses of his inputs, and the onboard neural-net computer replied:

[color=#3366FF]~~~Video Recording Protocols established~~~
~~~Initiating Video Feed Recording~~~



Video Feed: First Transmission



When the old man was finished with his speech, he took in a long breath, and exhaled deeply and satisfactorily.

... That should be it, then...

He got up from the chair, and stepped up to the front of the huge, open window, staring at Planet New Berlin with a fixed gaze. Afterwards, he sighs yet again, this time even longer and deeper, his chest heaving from the pressure...






... Clare...

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