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communicate & protect
"The best way to protect something is to set it free."
Since the Moira has arrived on Ceta, things have been (mostly) quiet considering their usual stay on planets before it. The only cruelty about this one is the fact they hunt for both sport and gain, and the creatures of Ceta do not have a voice—or intelligence to defend themselves. However, as the crew of the ship will come to learn, this is an elaborate lie. With the previous problem of the MID malfunctioning, and causing a bit of a miscommunication fiasco, finally solved, it is apparent that whatever had been wrong with this technology had slowly begun to affect the crew prior to exploring Ceta. Only in subtle, unnoticed ways.
With everything beginning to run a little more smoothly, a shift in the air overtakes both the Moira and Ceta in the days following. ☄ A LESSON IN MID COMMUNICATION ( 03.17 - 03.22 )As the translator technology has recently been fixed, the crew will notice that their MID devices now come with an extra feature: a brief explanation of the extra capabilities of the translation technology. Each MID records all language that is spoken near it, stores information on phonetics and linguistics in order to keep each language as current as possible. In the event that an unknown language is encountered, all known languages are applied until the meanings of each sound or word are decoded. In some instances, it’s a long process, and in others, it spans the time of a few weeks.
There is a small addendum that states that no conversations are recorded and stored in their entirety in order to protect privacy.
Crew may ask themselves why this is there, but all they have to do is get close enough to one of the flying, whale-like creatures to find out. Communication is still not quite perfect, and this is where the translator technology needs the crew’s help. The more two beings interact using speech, the further the database will expand. Attempting communication might be futile at first, but eventually, the low peaceful songs filling the misty air of Ceta are broken with words: a cry for help When the creatures have come close to the temporaries before, it was not out of curiosity; it was an attempt to destroy them and save themselves. But remember, even if you want to help, these creatures are skittish around sudden light and it takes time for them to trust, time the Moira might not have. ☄ TRADE FOR RESOLUTION ( 03.22 - 03.25 )It’s common knowledge that this universe runs on a system of trade for either goods or services. If you can provide either of those to another, then you can have anything you want. This includes protection. The closest neighboring planet, like so many others, has a variety of groups that can be hired out to perform a number of duties. In an effort to offer the crew peaceful resolution for something that they’ve learned is discomfiting to many Moirans, the hunting and killing of innocent creatures on Ceta, the captains suggest something a little different this time.
Contact and an initial payment has been made to a team of soldiers to travel to Ceta to meet with the crew. Essentially, if enough valuable resources are offered to this group, they will do whatever is necessary to rid Ceta of the hunters and declare that Ceta is a protected planet. This means that they will protect these giant creatures from future harm as long as a yearly sum is delivered to them. The captains agree to continue payment as long as the rest of the crew can gather enough for the first year. ☄ FEEDING FRENZY ( 03.25 - 03.31 )With everything finally coming to a peaceful close, the Moira and the crew’s routine begin to return to normal. The process for leaving Ceta is spread ship-wide. However, as they leave Ceta’s atmosphere and enter space once more, some odd things appear to have flooded the ship. An infestation of scraplets have led to minor complications that soon start to escalate. Feeding exclusively on metal, they make a mangled mess of the ship's systems, causing them to glitch and stop working altogether as they chew their way through its internal workings. You may notice your door will no longer open or close, or maybe the temperature has gotten unusually warm. Is that a leak? How did that get there? Maybe you happen to be made of metal yourself, or have metallic prosthetics - "living" metal is actually preferred over the walls of the ship.
The infestation will start to threaten critical systems if left unchecked and will need to be taken care of as quickly as possible. It is the crew’s responsibility to band together and figure out a way to stop these scraplets from devouring the entirety of the ship and leaving them stranded or worse.
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hohnkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-03-17 09:28 pm
no subject
Right.
[ Unclipping his pistol from its holster on his thigh, Wash raises it up and takes aim at the grouping of little creatures. Whatever the program's weapons don't destroy or happen to send flying, he shoots at. Thankfully, the one thing he's best known for is his aim. ]
Actually, I, uh. I don't think the EMP would be a good idea. At least, not here and now.
[ Just talking casually between shooting little mechanical bugs, no big deal. ]
Even if it might be more effective for taking out big groups all at once.
no subject
And show off, of course. One disk slings out, ricocheting between the walls to dismember a pair of runners as the program twists, launching off his now-free hand in a spinning flip up toward the ceiling. Red/black blurs before his second disk slices out, dismembering a scraplet about to climb into a ceiling vent.
When Rinzler lands in a neat crouch, he pauses just long enough to tilt his helmet back and to the side. The question's implied rather than spoken, but if Wash is looking for more than nonverbals to go on, he'll need to wait until they've wiped this wave. Rinzler's a little busy to start typing.
Still, the query seems obvious enough to him. If the user had a more effective weapon, why not use it?]
no subject
When the other comes to a land and tilts his head in obvious question, Wash swallows hard and goes back to focusing on the bugs. He takes three successive shots, taking out three of the scraplets in the middle of trying to flee in the opposite direction of the two of them. Then two more shots fire at the floor, taking out two more of the bugs that were making a beeline for the feet of his armour. Only then does he glance back at Rinzler (hesitantly) and give a kind of non-committal shrug. ]
I, uh. An EMP is an Electromagnetic Pulse. In case you didn't know. And it tends to...you know, shut down any machinery and anything electronic within its range.
[ FIDDLING AWKWARDLY WITH HIS PISTOL NOW, NOT LOOKING AT RINZLER. ]
It'd destroy any AI--or Program--within range. And, uhm. Considering you're right here... [ He trails off there, clearing his throat and glancing around quickly for more scraplets to shoot at. ] ...It might destroy the bugs, but I wouldn't want to use it around anyone else who'd be affected by it, too.
no subject
Less clear why the user seemed to find it a personal embarrassment. Rinzler's attention lingers on Wash for a few beats before his wrists twists out in a quick flick: slinging one disk past the user to ricochet around the corner. It cuts down a pair of scraplets that had been rolling closer, bright spots on the program's scans, before bouncing back to Rinzler's hand. Then the program snaps the two disks back together and reaches for his MID.]
Defense: possible?
no subject
[ Finally glancing up from his pistol, Wash peers back over at Rinzler with something like an apologetic shrug. As far as he knows, there's no way for an AI to be around an EMP pulse and be defended. And he certainly doesn't want to go about testing things out. ]
But you make pretty quick work of the things anyway with your...weapons. [ Weapons that confuse him. ] I think we can manage without the EMP. As long as others are helping elsewhere on the ship, we should be able to get rid of these things with a little work. ...Or a lot.
[ The EMP would be faster. But even if there were no AIs nearby in danger of the pulse, Wash would be worried about the ship and its systems. For all he knows, it could cause serious damage, weak pulse or not, and he doesn't want that. It's. Probably just better to do this by hand. ]
no subject
[Not just "weapons". Though if Wash wants a similarly thorough explanation, he's going to have to ask. Identity disks are a little too personally significant for Rinzler to offer that data with no better prompting than confusion.
The remainder of the user's words are logical enough, if frustrating—the enforcer doesn't like hearing that there's any weapon he can't defend from at close range. Still, any urge to test the claims is firmly pushed back. Rinzler can consider suicidal stunts on his own time. For now? System cleanup takes priority.
The helmet dips in acquiescence, then nods further down the hall. Other weapons or not, the user's aim had certainly been adequate. Is it up for more bug-hunting?]
tmw you go to write disks and it comes out dicks...
[ He repeats the word aloud with a little nod. Makes sense, they certainly are disk-shaped. It's a weapon unlike any Wash has ever seen before though, and he's seen a lot of different weaponry. Then again, aboard a ship with people from who knows how many different universes, it should be no surprise to come across ones he's never seen. ]
They're cool. Maybe I can get a closer look at them later? When we're not infested with metal-eating termites and all.
[ Unsure how that request will go over, but unable to keep himself from asking--he likes seeing new weaponry, okay?--Wash's gaze follows the nod down the hall. Understanding the meaning, he nods in response and starts making his way down the hall, eyes searching for signs of more scraplets. He feels a little bad that the program has to do all the heavy lifting, but all Wash's pistol is good for, really, is single shots. His rifle isn't ideal for this situation, either. And other than that, all he can really do is use his metal boots for stomping.
But still, better two together than just one, right? Rinzler handles the majority, and Wash can grab the stragglers. ]
You have any idea where these things even came from?
[ ...Sorry, Rinzler. He's not used to all this silence, so he's going to talk a lot whether you can respond or not. ]
YOU ARE NOT ALONE |D;
There's no further acknowledgement of the request when Rinzler's stare does move away He'll let his bristling imply the very solid no. The program steps forward, weapons clenched in either hand as he stalks down the hall, leaving Wash to follow after. The second query at least receives some answer; dark mask jerking to the side in mute negation. He doesn't know where they came from. Only that they need to die.]
no subject
[ But he more than gets the idea from the look the program's giving him that he's not open to sharing his weapons even for a moment. Which, okay, Wash understands. He's protective of his guns too, since they're the only weapons he's got from home, but still. All he'd asked for was a look...
It seems he's really touched a nerve there though, with the way Rinzler stalks the halls. Pursing his lips, Wash hesitates in his steps for a moment, then follows, keeping up a brisk pace in order to keep up with the other. Thankfully, his eyes were on the program to catch the jerk of his head that Wash assumes is the answer to his question. So, he's got no idea where the pests came from either. Figures. ]
Hopefully we can get rid of them all before they do any serious damage to the ship. ...Or the crew.
no subject
Wash's apology goes unacknowledged; Rinzler considers his own lack of violence to be reciprocation enough. The comment that follows it is equally obvious, and does nothing to remove the harsh edge to the enforcer's sound.
The skitter of motion from down the hall does better. Rinzler splits his disks, activating them with a bright hum as his mask fixes on a junction not far off.
Threats? Incoming.]
no subject
[ At this point, Wash is just talking because the silence is...uncomfortable. Or maybe just weird. He can hear the noise coming from Rinzler, but the lack of conversation is the part that's... That he's not sure how to deal with.
Catching sight of the program splitting his disks again, however, Wash prepares himself. Clearly, more of the little pests have been spotted, and they're on their way. That, or he and Rinzler are going to intercept them. Either way, they're getting back into combat mode, so Wash pulls his pistol back up into a ready position and quickens his pace slightly behind the other--he stays behind the program, but keeps closer to him so he can get a view around him at the targets. ]