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deep in the murk
"It comes first and follows after. Ends life, kills laughter."
With the outcome of the battle against the Caducans and the Moira having twisted together with their ship to form a strange combination of glass, metal, and organic parts (both across the ship and among the crewmembers), there is still the matter of the Ingress not functioning “properly”. It hasn’t worked correctly since the very first person arrived on the Moira through it, and there is little the Captains themselves know about its functions. However, now, more than before, it’s even worse than that. The Ingress malfunctions yet again. This time, though, it doesn’t simply combine time and space and objects around it—it encompasses the entirety of the ship and sends it far off into a completely different universe. Welcome to:
( click text for a rough map/layout )This puts the Moira closer to its final destination, and most of the glass has disappeared as the Caducan ship has been left behind aside from small things here and there (i.e., some of the walls in the corridors, random furniture in the rooming decks, the rooms themselves). Even the mess hall has permanently changed. Yet, there is some bad news that comes with this transition. The universe the ship is in is so terrible that it has been given its own name so that travelers avoid it altogether. Even the Captains themselves are aware of just how Bad News this universe is and had originally planned to take “the long way around” to avoid it. Anything shady or unsavory can be found in the Runoff, and while it might not appeal to the majority, it is simply second-nature to those who inhabit it. From arms trafficking to drugs, whatever one might think is illegal somewhere else is suddenly very legal and very dangerous.
Through the transition, some of the crew will accidentally end up on a nearby outpost specifically used for slave trade. It is a covered, temporary establishment used only for this purpose, meaning there are no open markets, hotels, or businesses of any sort. Stalls and tents line dirty streets, and ships litter the space around the outpost. This is a slave trade zone. People come and go but do not stay. Various lifeforms can be found here, and there are many different forms of slave trade happening. The motto “honor among thieves” does not exist in this place either. Crew who end up here will be “free”; however, this means that there is the potential to be taken and sold or kept by those of the Runoff. The Moira will not be close to this outpost, but the signals given from their MIDs will alert the crew to their location. Rescue, obviously, is imminent, but those who choose to help their fellow crewmembers must keep to small stealth missions using transporters or other crafts with one important detail in mind: they cannot bring attention or notice to the Moira itself.
Almost one-third of the crew has found themselves on the slave trade outpost, leaving the rest to plan for rescue. The Captains will immediately divulge all information that they have about the outpost, which is unfortunately very little outside of the stigma associated with the Runoff. The Captains will ask any MID techs or those with skills to create a program that allows person to person location; this function will allow crewmembers to search for those on the outpost via their MIDs. Rescue efforts are encouraged, and all the ships and transporters in the cargo bay will be available for public use. Crew will be told to be careful and quiet, bringing no attention to the Moira’s location, and most importantly, do not stand out. If crew look and act like they don’t belong there, others will notice. Stealth is the name of the game, and blending in is a necessity. ☄ time goes by slowly The unfortunate crewmembers who ended up on the outpost have now found themselves pursued by those looking to make a profit through slave trade. The standards of hard labor vary from owner to owner, but it is what it sounds like. Rough, hard work that will last as long as the body performing it can endure. If purchased, owners might examine their new property to determine what type of work they’d be best suited for and then split them up into holding areas until they are done with their purchases. Others might have their slaves begin work by cleaning their ship or holding stalls or packing up their tents and gear. The owners, and their needs, are as varied as the universe. Did you manage to escape? Or were you forced to work before you were rescued? ☄ and it seems to last forever Like the crewmembers taken by general labor owners, the murdersport slavers buy and take whomever they believe can last the longest in the pit. Some take those who appear to be strong or have great stamina, and some take those who are light on their feet or are quick-witted. Some crew are chosen simply based on appearance and how good they’ll look in their gear. If pursued, the slavers will do everything they can to capture the Moirans, and if captured, crew might be taken to a holding stall or a testing pit so that their skills can be witnessed by the public and tested. Some slavers want to show off their new property by throwing them into small roped off areas with other slaves, various creatures, or machines. Some make them stand up in front of groups and simply show them off, boasting that, at the next big event in the Runoff, they’ll surely win the grand prize. What kind of slaver has taken you? Will you be forced to fight before you rescue? Or will you not make it to the Moira before the Ingress pulls you back? ☄ but then it starts to fly ( cw: sex ) As is typical of this universe, slave trade comes in various forms. The most notorious being its illustrious sex trade. Slaves are bought and sold quickly and often, with no notable preference for appearance or species. Buyers come from all over to find slaves to work in their brothels, for personal use, as in-house entertainment, and much more. While the other two most popular type of slave trade don’t care as much about the physical well being of their property, these specific owners usually do. They might try to incapacitate first, so that the slaves aren’t bruised or cut, and if necessary, use binds until they can get them back to their ships or holding stalls. Some owners have their slaves cleaned and dressed in the finest attire, while others shove them into uniforms and tossed into stalls. Were you captured? Did you escape? Or were you rescued before something untoward occurred? What's more, events of the past always have a way of coming back to haunt you.
Months past, a monster terrorized the crew and left a very literal mark upon those that it touched. Those scarred by encounters with the Ploiatos will find their minds drifting as they work and go about their day. They may also find themselves in a different part of the ship than intended when they come back to themselves. It happens slowly, these small moments of lost time. But both before and after these events occur, one might notice that the scars seem to shift slightly. Where the patterns have been stable for months, suddenly the branching arms of the scars appear to be in a slightly different position than before. More often than not, those who lose time will regain awareness and find themselves in Navigation. When this happens, oftentimes Captain Manasseh will herd them out with a quiet, but undeniably firm, suggestion to visit the infirmary. More unsettling are the moments when they awaken in the I.L.R. standing outside the one door that should never be opened. As for those who were lucky enough to avoid encounters with the creature locked within, they must figure out how to deal with their friends and fellow crew who seem to walk around in a fog with no control of their actions.
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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-07-19 01:11 am
no subject
As an adult, she's simply learned to focus on things besides physical pain. In this case, it's trying to connect with the Force.
In her cell she sits on the floor, wrists and ankles shackled. The slavers had learned that leaving even one of her limbs free to move would spell disaster for them. Her mouth tastes like copper and her eyes are closed. She thinks about the Jedi on the ship, how they'd told her to search for the Force around her and reach for it. And even though she can feel it all around, the pain keeps her from being able to harness it. In this moment, she would give almost anything to be able to take her pain and channel it as Kylo Ren had; none of the slaveholders on this planet would stand a chance against her. But she can't, and she feels almost like giving up.
And then she senses something amiss. Mostly, she hears bodies hitting the floor and what sounds like chains breaking. After using the wall to push herself up to her feet, she tenses her muscles and prepares to defend herself.
Bucky is standing at her cell door and she cracks a smile, along with her lip.]
Took you long enough.
no subject
Rey's chains are next to go, he shatters them in moments, when he clenches them tight and metal arm whirs just a touch, locking together to exert incredible force on the steel. Soon enough, her ankles and wrists are unshackled, and he holds out his hand to her after getting to his feet. ]
Had to take a detour. [ There is an apologetic note in his voice; he'd been held up by extenuating circumstances, and now that he's out, he plans to get her to safety, too. ] Did they take anything from you?
no subject
Her wrists and ankles are bruised and raw, but she doesn't give them a second thought right now. She wipes her face on her sleeve, leaving a bloody trail that she knows won't come out. Even though she has plenty of clothing now, she still frowns at the thought of ruining a shirt.
Nodding, she stretches out screaming muscles that haven't been used properly in days.]
My weapons, my tools. [Her dignity. But that isn't something she's ready to say out loud yet. She eyes him up and down, concerned.] Were you captured?
no subject
[ They'd put it away in a locked cabinet a few doors away -- Bucky's spied it when he had to do reconnaisance hours earlier, and he shakes his head when she gives him a once over. It's still strange, when people ask about him; like he's a real person instead of... well. Nevermind that now.
He's glad to see that she's lucid and functioning; it makes his blood boil to know that they've been holding her captive like this, and who knows what else they've done to her. She's one of the first few friends he's made here, and he's naturally protective. Bucky doesn't miss the blood, but it's small comfort to know that aside from that, nothing else seems to be seriously amiss / out of place. He waits for her to catch up when he sets off down the corridor, silent as a shadow. ] Let's go get them and get out of here.
no subject
But Bucky had come for her, just like Finn had. And, just like when the ex-Stormtrooper had done it, doesn't seem to have cared about any consequences to himself. She doesn't know how to handle it, except with confusion and a strange feeling in her stomach. It's like respect, she thinks, except it's something slightly more. Maybe affection. Camaraderie. Thinking of a word to describe it isn't her highest priority at the moment, so she sets those thoughts aside for later.
As she moves to follow him, her muscles scream. Rey is used to traveling light--the bare essentials and nothing more. Suddenly having several tens of extra pounds added to her wrists and ankles with little room to move or stretch had done a number on her. She's slow and limps a little, but ignores the pain. Her body wants to rest, but she knows she needs to move. There are always rounds of guards, and it's hard to tell time in a cell.
Rey knows that if it comes to fight or flight, she won't be much use in either situation. And, always practical, she has to let him know.]
If things go bad, you need to get out. Get off this outpost and back to the ship.
no subject
[ Bucky tells her simply. He's not going to abandon her and head back to the ship alone -- it's both of them or neither at all; that's the way it always goes. His objective, currently, is extraction (no sanctioning, not ever again), and he's come to care for her well-being since they'd first met. She understands, he supposes, that wild streak the both of them have, and he can never forget the times when she shares what she has with him, even though they both know that such a thing is antithesis to their sparse, rough existence.
He studies her briefly, attuned to the way she moves -- and he knows instinctively that she's going to need medical attention after this. He might hate being in the medical bay, but he's objective enough to know that they're the ones who can help her. ]
We're both getting on the ship. [ He says firmly, quietly, pressing himself flat against the wall, boosting one of the doors and unlocking it when no movement is heard nearby. It's the room that holds her belongings and her weapons, and he understands what it means to her to have it back, whatever little that they have is more precious than anything else. ]
Come on. [ He gestures her in, closing the door quietly behind them. ] We'll have to make it quick, the next change of guard is in six minutes, we have to be gone before then.
no subject
[Rey wants to tell him that he's being stupid, that it's no use to anyone if they're both caught up in this mess. But then again, she's glad to hear him say that he won't leave her behind. That's been the theme of her life thus far, one that's only changed fairly recently. Having people actually care about her well-being is novel, and she's glad for it. But all things considered, he would've done well on Jakku. She might even have worked with him without fearing that he'd stab her in the back like past partners had.
A slow exhale, and then she nods. She's in no condition to argue, even though she knows she'd throw herself to the gnaw-jaws before letting them both be captured, no matter what he says.
Her movements are sluggish, but she still tries to keep up. She knows she's making too much noise for this kind of escape. Her eyes are already accustomed to the darkness from her time in a cell, and it's only a few seconds of rifling before she's found her lightsaber and her staff, the latter slung over her shoulders despite the cry of protest her arms give. She doesn't know if she'll be able to use it, but better armed than not. And the lightsaber is sure to at least scare some of the slavers off.
Rey's hands shake, but she moves to stand beside him, gaze focused on the door.]
Six minutes it plenty, right?