driftfleet | Who goes there?

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Who goes there?

[After weeks of relative silence, our intrepid passengers finally travel within visual range of a blue planet. Marsiva's slow-and-steady course makes it clear that this is the Drift Fleet's next destination--but just as your ships come within scanning range and your computers begin to gather data, a fleet of quick little watchdog ships zip out of the planet's atmosphere, heading straight for you!

They do not swoop in for an attack, but hold their positions between you and the planet. They look close enough to cause some trouble, and any working Communications Officer can tell you that they have weapons locked on the Fleet in warning.

The tell-tale sound of an incoming hailing frequency chimes over your ship's alert system. Someone would like you to pick up the phone. Thanks to their augment, all passengers instinctively know that they'll be looking for the Captain or the Communications Officer of the ship--but no one says someone else can't pick it up first.

On the bridge, the hailing frequency can be viewed on screen, along with the attached subject: "Identify yourselves." The notification chime goes off every seven seconds. These ships don't look like they're going anywhere, but they don't want to be kept waiting, either.

What do you do? Will you accept the frequency?]

ooc → see the July Star System post for details about this event! there is no real rush in this post (we won't even be around to begin responding to it until Sunday afternoon), so take your time, feel free to tag each other in this post (maybe try to get your Comms officers off their asses), and there is no time too late to tag into this post. the element of urgency is all IC, and there is no OOC pressure at all.

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[he can go ahead and fret for a bit, while his broadcast is met with silence for several long moments. maybe they're taking time to line up the perfect shot.

they do reply eventually, however, with a human-sounding voice over an audio channel. the woman responding does not sound pleased.]

You have been given no such clearance, Golden. Explain your presence and intent immediately.

[There is certainly fretting, though he does his very best not to show it. It mostly manifests as fidgeting with the edges of various buttons on the console he's standing in front of; he only knows what about half of them do.

He almost gives Misha the signal to go when the silence stretches too long, paranoia tugging at his edges— but then the voice comes onto the channel, and he holds off.

Still cheerful:]

Well, the presence bit isn't exactly up to us, sorry to say. The big one in the middle, the Marsiva, she's the one who dictates the course we take. The rest of us are just along for the ride, more or less. You can take it up with her, if you like, though I wish you a great good luck on that endeavor.

[He's not inclined to say it in so many words, we're trapped like rats, depending on who he's talking to and who might be listening, but he'll call a spade a spade, at least.]

Intent— drop in for a visit, say hello, restock a bit, be on our way? [He's been fairly blase up until this point, where his tone solidifies, just on the edge of seriousness.] If that's not agreeable, our people can stay off the planet until our fearless leader decides to drift us elsewhere. But I can't speak for the rest of the fleet.

[and it goes over swimmingly.]

...Is that a threat, Captain?

[because she isn't even considering taking all of that literally.]

Threat? [THAT ESCALATED QUICKLY. He fumbles, losing what little momentum he'd built up, and falls back on:] No. No, no, no. No. Exactly the opposite, actually. Believe me, I'm not that stupid.

[This is fine! Everything is fine!!]

How about we start again, you and I. You sound like an intelligent woman. [Laying it on a little thick, there, Captain.] All I mean to say is that the Golden is willing to work with you to the best of our ability, if we've been dragged somewhere we don't belong.

[beat]

Our ability is a bit limited in places, yes, but we'll still work to the best of it.

[oh my god Anders you really are laying it a bit thick there wHY

Hello watchdog lady don't mind this alarmed twelve-year-old whisper sidling into the edge of your feed, probably still unfortunately pretty audible with how close the shield console actually is to the signal comm whoops--]

Anders, wait, are--are you flirting? But you don't even know her name yet! Maybe you shouldn't do that...isn't that sort of rude?

[oops, it's apparently pretty audible.]

Excuse me?

[a beat while she just. takes a moment to step back, take a breath, and refocus.]

...Golden, I highly suggest that you leave your stories and dalliance out of this, and explain yourselves--concisely--starting with what a merchant-class Nunnilis ship is doing in your fleet.

[Well, this is where the communications officer speaks up.]

Umm... Could I handle the talking from here? Before things get any worse.

[He was ready to hand the mic over to Uzuki anyway, given that she knows the story of the Iskaulit better than he does, but— after that rather spectacular dive bomb he can't help but make a show out of it, holding his hands over his head in a universal fine, I surrender motion.

Be friendly. He can keep being friendly, at least vocally.]

Of course. That story is somehow even more complicated than the last one, if you can believe it [anders stop talking] but maybe our communications officer can make it a bit more concise than I would.

[TAPPING OUT. And scowling at Megaman as he goes, just backing a few steps away from the console. (He's not comfortable with abandoning it entirely, just in case.) He's of the opinion that he was being subtle— so maybe it's for the best he never got out of that range.]

[Okay then, Uzuki takes a deep breath to calm down for a bit, and... Does her best to give a business smile. Whether it can be seen by them is irrelevant - if she's doing her job, she needs to smile., that's just how it is.]

Now then, you wanted a concise summary, right? Then, putting it concisely... The ship was infested with some sort of brain parasite fungus plague. We managed to put together a cure, but not fast enough to save the people on board. We decontaminated it just to be safe, and... we brought it along because that was our first contact with the Nunnilis and we thought bringing it along with us would give a better chance of it getting back to them than leaving it for scavengers.

As for the reason we're here specifically... The Golden can't leave a set distance from the Marsiva, but the Marsiva itself appears to be completely automated. We have no idea what its route is, and as far as we know, it doesn't respond to communications at all, whether it's from us or anyone else. On the other hand, the Marsiva just kind of follows whatever flight plan it has without actually doing anything, so it shouldn't be a threat? I believe that's what Captain Anders was trying to get across.

Edited 2015-07-15 02:27 (UTC)

[Ah god bless you Uzuki, where would this ship be without you...(possibly blown up at least once over by now probably).

At the very least, Megaman has the decency to look thoroughly mortified when his whisper apparently ends up patching through to the opposing ship after all; he sidles further away from the comm immediately, the better to give Uzuki room to take over as she steps up, and returns Anders' scowl with a thoroughly apologetic expression of his own. He even mouths an "I'm sorry!" in Anders' general direction, not trusting himself to actually speak up again because apparently the microphones here are pretty sensitive!! Yes. Back to leaning a bit anxiously against the shield console for him.

Honestly, he's practically programmed to nag, but he really should have been more careful in retrospect...or at least quieter maybe. But well, at least their comm officer seems to have a handle on things...]

[and with some real information finally provided, along with a refreshing lack of nonsense, the woman on the line sounds at least a little appeased. though, the dark news does bring a distinct somberness to her voice.]

...I see.

[for a few beats, there is a hang of empty air while she mulls it all over. and when she does speak up again, it is right before the signal cuts out completely.]

Golden, please stand by.

[just give them a moment.]

[The signal goes out, and Anders immediately switches gears from surly to nervous again, fidgeting in place while he watches the screen, waiting for the frequency to reconnect.

Eventually, because he couldn't be quiet if you literally put a cork in his mouth:]

Well, that could have gone better. But all right in the end, I think. [A small, appreciative nod to Uzuki.] Now we wait! Because that's not ominous at all.

[it's a nice long wait, to keep things mysterious. or maybe this is actually something that requires quite a bit of discussion from the other side... eventually, another woman picks up the line. she sounds middle-aged and serious, but at least more even-tempered than the last girl.]

Golden, these are very serious claims. Do you have any documentation to support what you've told us about the Nunnilis ship?

We do, yes. I played a bit of a part in helping to organize things, so I have some of the documentation from several of the groups, though I can't say it's complete -- We have a lot of ships after all, and not all the data went through me. I should be able to send you what we have on the Golden, though.

Please do. We're receiving reports from other ships in your fleet as well.

[the line will remain open, for any comms officer or captain to send data in the opposing fleet's direction.]

Then, I'll begin the transfer right away.

[Sending the data over to the fleet: A record of when they first received the SOS, stuff on the initial entry into the ship, an autopsy report, information on various stages of work on the antidote.... And various bits and pieces that managed to get pulled from the damaged computers.]

[Anders fidgets, as he's been doing most of this exchange. It'd be lying to say he wasn't at least a little relieved — it's harder for documents and facts to be misinterpreted — but also lying to say he wasn't still paranoid. They're not in the clear until they're on the ground, as far as he's concerned.

He watches the transfer go through, rocking slightly on his heels, and raises his voice just enough to be heard by communicator. Because he can't help himself.]

You'll find that it's all in line with what you're getting from the others, I expect. We'll stand by until you've had a chance to look them over, yes? If you have any questions [beat] our communications officer should be able to answer them.

[Because he also knows when he's beaten, all right.]

Thank you, Golden. [both of you.] You will be given instructions once we have finished reviewing the data.

[you guys are put on hold again while the opposing Fleet looks over their information... though, any communications officer can confirm that weapons are no longer locked on the Golden.]

...Captain, they're not locking onto us any longer.

[And with that, she just kind of collapses into the communicator's chair like a puppet with its strings cut.]

Haa... That was really close, wasn't it...?

[they have a moment to relax. give them a few minutes, and...]

Thank you for your patience, Golden. We apologize for the delay.

This planet is home to a large number of Nunnilis. It looks as though the infection on the Iskaulit is the same one that we are currently struggling to keep at bay in our own population. As such, we could not risk further contamination.

[the woman takes a deep breath... this has been a taxing evening.]

But your records check out, as does your story. We would prefer that you keep the Iskaulit in orbit, but the Golden will be given full permission to land.

For safety, we ask that you please run through standard decontamination protocol before you exit your ships, to minimize all possible risks.

[Full permission. Anders resists the urge to sigh with relief while the ship on the other line can still hear him— and anyway it's premature. "Not locked on" doesn't hold much meaning for him; there's always room to be stabbed (or in this case, shot) in the back. It weighs a little heavier, the idea of making contact with full-facultied members of the same species they spent the past month purging, but.... He'll worry about that later, if he lets himself worry about it at all.

Just a little bit longer and they'll be, if everyone here will pardon the pun, golden.]

In that case, we'll be sure to be thorough, of course, follow everything to the letter. [He is not 100% sure what the proper protocols are, but he'll figure it out. He does intend to follow through on that promise.] Glad we could get all this cleared up! Sounds like we all gave each other a bit of a scare, fancy that.

[Ha ha! What a crazy random happenstance!]

Anyway. Perhaps we'll see you planetside! But only if we're very lucky, hmm? [You thought you could keep him from flirting, team. You were wrong. Right on its heels, before he can be called out:] Misha, if you don't mind?

Only if you're very unlucky, Captain.

[yeah, she doesn't take to it much better than the previous one did. but, with that all sorted out...]

Thank you, Golden. End transmission.

[and the feed cuts. the Golden is free to land!]

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Who goes there?

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im so sorry and yet not

it was nice knowing you, Golden

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