RP: 188604 Program 2 (Epilogue); Resurfacing

[Primitive Polygon]

Port Hope
♫

The flight back to the massive dumbbell-shaped main colony was a quiet one, skimming the surface of the endless white disk of space debris. Silhouetted against the poor red sun, the growing form of the huge structure seemed to twinkle with a dim blue star field all of its own. There wasn’t a spark to oppose the recovering crew of the Skeleton Ensemble, with the news of what had happened slowly fanning out to all of the disreputable residents in turn…

Hollowpoint’s head was already mentally active despite their continuing dislodgment from the rest of a body, and promised them a full retrofit for their actions. This went as far as telling each crew member to choose one new module to add to the small red corvette, despite the fact that two of them hadn't even chosen to become permanent members or anything yet… Considering the stockpile of parts on the station, it was probably all they had to offer, regardless. At any rate, it was all going to take some time to actually fit them even using the facilities of Port Hope itself, not least because a basic relief team of other Viridian Array members had only just now arrived to secure the asteroid base and it's stockpile of resources once more.

A more pressing concern was SoulNomad Jack-o-Lantern. They offered to transport Ziggy and Gemini back to the colony so they could get a ride out, but had seemingly bowed out themselves after the arrival, leaving the Skeleton’s computers utterly blank.

Wordless exit or not, the message was clear from their character; It’s your ship now, I have no right to it anymore. Direct wired link out, transferring directly to somewhere else within the unplanned mad sprawl of the huge city-station...

Everything was a blank slate once again. The bustling crowds of beige-clad miners and traders certainly provided a wealth of opportunities for new crew members, through. Even a new syntelligence could be on the cards, should the fancy strike them. Or, perhaps they would chose to give the old pumpkin another chance, trusting his humility, if not effectiveness, so far?

Here, in the central decks of the station, there were stacks upon stacks of trading stalls and food sellers, flowing air of the surprisingly large interior tinged with equal parts mineral grit and the smell of sith brew. It was a dirty place of shady independent dealings, for sure, but there could be no finer a place to recruit neutral Freespacer talent in this modern age.

In fact, they already had two visitors waiting for them at the bottom of the ramp. A lithe, effeminate Druid type three with red hair, lead along by a small, sheepish four-legged type two of some sort…

“Docking fellow says this is the vessel, my Druid…” A petite voice spouted. ”However… Can’t access the crew logs. Can’t tell you much about these folks… M-my… s-s-sincerest… ap-pologies...”

Spoiler

@Cordinarr @Navian @Legix @ArsenicJohn

 

[Legix]

Port Hope

"That's fine," Vista moved to pat her back and give her a wink, "This is definitely the group I was hoping to meet! I'll need to ask them to spit on my stick, though... otherwise I won't be able to collect their samples! Not like I can collect samples against people's wills!"

The Type Three was carrying his normal suitcase, his big eyes turning to watch the ship. Today, he had decided to wear one of his dresses instead for more eccentric flair. The Love Decant had various Type Two's that chastised him for his absurd dressing habits, but among the stars it proved to be a boon that often let him meet and befriend or romance little cuties like the spider-girl nearby. Not far from the ramp they were coming into, the Skeleton crew could see his Porter in all its absurd colors. The container beneath it was the only one he might have owned, but he knew with a ship like the one before him that something like his craft would be well received. The Porter itself was likely to big to fit in the cargo doors, but the ship had ample room to store various containers. Even as a Druid, he had enough understanding based on a brief view to see the potential of even modifying such a ship with various containers like his own. Among the various space hobos known as the Freespacers, the Love Decant practically thrived in making due and improving things by slapping new ones on.

"See if you can flag them! Call them in, too! I'd love to talk to them! All that time we spent waiting, exploring your tastes, seeing the Port... I think it's time for the Treasure Hoarder to meet some new friends!"

 

[Navian]

Port Hope

Ziggy greeted the newcomers non-verbally, and with great minimalism; it was more of a routine acknowledgement of their presence, modified to admit that she wouldn't be going anywhere until they'd concluded their business with her, whatever that was.

As she would have preferred to keep moving, it was against her preference to wait, but there was a certain degree of politeness expected that she had no claim to be ignorant of. She looked a bit worn-down, and yes, even grumpy, aside from more typically appearing armed and dangerous.

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Port Hope

During the eventful day in which Maeota had guided Vista around the colony, through crowded backstreets and dusty maintenance passages, two things had become very clear; The custodians on Port Hope welcomed other members of their kin with open arms, yet still played their cards very close to their chest. Rather massive parts of the three-dimensional complex were off limits even between separate groups, so it was quite lucky that they had the sheepish spider lass around to guide them through it all.

A small but robust thing, the woman clattered up the loading ramp on four mechanical mint-hued legs, fixing their recently-dyed jade hair with a metal limb half dainty doll hand, and half drum-loaded machinegun.

"...D-....Are yo-?... sk-skel...." A high-pitched voice, turned hoarse by extremely tense nerves. The spider was immensely intimidated by these newcomers, literally only helping out because the Druid had requested as such. A person fabricated to be a gun on legs didn't require interpersonal skills. "Skeleton... are you s-skeleton?.... ensemble?... f-f-fo...lk-?..."

 

[Cordinarr]

The Journey from Wonderland

During the flight from the Viridian Array, Genesculptor Six Three wandered about the Skeleton Ensemble. He had continued to make the repairs that were a bit too fine for the machine back at the Array to handle. WHen finished with the track along his torso, the dent had been repaired but his third arm would make a clicking noise as it ran across his body. And while he was able to repair the cybernetics in his head, it seems the files that held all of his precious sayings got a firm reshuffle. "Early to bed...gets the worm?" and "Let's kick this...pedal to the metal?" were the phrases he could now recall. Half ones that got the spirit of the saying, but not quite the mark. While he might be able to find a new database of sayings at the Port, there were more pressing matters as they pulled in.

Port Hope

Six Three caught on that Jack was no longer around. The ship still thrummed, creaked, hissed, spat, bubbled, and even burped from time to time like it always had, but the spirit was gone. The ship seemed to be a lifeless husk without the once noble SoulNomad guarding and guiding it. It was a lifeless automata, and that deeply unsettled Six Three but more so it saddened him. The Genesculptor, not knowing where to begin or what even to say, gave a shot in the dark. Transposing the following message:

Dearest SoulNomade Jack-O-Lantern Seven Six 76-5610-9108,

It seems you have left us, without a "Good-bye". If this is your wish and you cannot be convinced otherwise, then it will be respected. But you should know, that there is no blame that is saddled to you. Any guilt you may feel, any responsibility that you carry on your shoulders for the events that transpired at the Array, you must know that we, or at least I, forgive you for. What happened could not have been foreseen. We knew the risks going into the mission, and we accepted it. We went in, knowing fully that there would be consequences, that there would be danger, and we were ok with that. Granted, maybe we were a little too ambitious, but we knew. Any burden from that adventure that you may feel, only shows that you are a compassionate 'spacer that deserves a second chance and many more than that to do the right thing. We all make mistakes, but it's up to us to show that we can learn and move on from them.

I feel like I've lost too many people from when we've started. Stargazer Alphara Null Null, Diharmonious Phase Four Six, Halcyone Three Seven, and Kiver Eight Zero. I'm glad you have the faith in me to carry on what you started with the few people that are left, but I don't quite have it in me. Your guidance is requested, your council always appreciated, and your friendship valued. If you decide to return, you know the way. You're always welcome.
​

Ever faithful,
Genesculptor Six Three 63-5262-8271

And then he sent the sealed message out into the polysentience that was Port Hope. Like a message in a bottle, he could only hope that it would reach the recluse that is the Soulnomad. He looked over some new parts for the ship, and even picked out a new color. #FFA71A was a nice color that was pleasing. Not to bright and vibrant, but not too dark that it'd look ugly; it was just right. Bookmarking it and sending it out, along with his part wish list, to the new crew members, Six Three made his way out to the Port.

Patchwork pants and a shirt to match is what he wore when he went down the ramp to meet the newest person applying to be a part of their crew. Looking down at the spider woman, his one biological eye closed with delight as if he was smiling beneath his mask. "Yes, we are. My name is Genesculptor Six Three. Are you the Druid that wishes to be joining us?" he said as he politely offers his hand out to greet her.

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

The jumping spider's reaction was immediate, but not terribly confident. Instead of grasping their hand, they just put their hands to the silvery hair clips at their temples, and then gazed into his boots...

"...."

"...▓▒░?... ░▒░░▒▓▒░?..." Just a small parting of the lips, emanating a soft but rapid chirping of notes like a music box. Clearly, she either automatically assumed he knew six cog due to being a cyborg, or had been frightened enough to revert back to a native tongue. "...░▒░░▒~..."

A stray moment later, they just straight up pointed at the red-haired darling in the well embellished dress, waiting at the bottom of the ramp.

Stray connections. Her mindware was inspecting the odd message he had sent out, but was probably not able to read it's contents. With both of their plugsets lurking the same domain, it was just one of those odd moments when two spacers could tell they were both metaphysically looking at the same thing.

"...You looking for... syntelligence?..." A fey nervous tone, attempting a more common language only reluctantly. She was looking at the ship now, and could obviously tell it was cognitively empty. "Do... Do you want some help?... I know a place... a place they linger..."

 

[Cordinarr]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

The Genesculptor looked a bit confused at her for a second while she spoke in her machine cant, then watched her point to a red-haired slender figure at the bottom of the ramp. He began to put two and two together when the small spider spoke in the common tongue once more. Returning his gaze back to the spider, "I'm sorry but I'm unable to speak what you just said to me. If we could keep it to this tongue, I would be most appreciated. But yes, that message is for a friend that has seemed to depart from us very suddenly. I'd like to find them, post-haste if possible and see I could talk them into returning with us. I would be very grateful for your help in this endeavor."

Looking back up at the person standing a ways before him he followed it up with, "But, first things first, please introduce me to your friend."

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

"Oh. Is your mouth not hardwired?... I'm sorry!..." A confused look, examining the much taller cyborg's exterior, particularly around the metal half of his face. Her inexperience was showing. "...Speaker in the roof o' mine... Need it for talking to junkers, I do..."

"Yes. My Three is Druid Vista 51-3049-5821. H-He.... Wanted to join your crew I think, but m-missed the b-boat he did... Genetics expert. Very nice.... ▒... I l-like h-him very much, I do..." Speaking about them made the girl-thing an odd combination of blushing and twitchy. Moving her steel right arm around made it a bit more clear about how a gun deployed from it. Despite the shyness, could this really be his bodyguard of some sort?... "I'm... I'm... Maeota... L-Lullkeeper... Seven Three... "

"You looking for this friend? He's this syntelligence, yes...?" Another intimidated pause, along with a reluctant point towards the skeleton with her more fleshy appendage. The fear couldn't just be an act, could it? What kind of born soldier acts like this?... "The end of the road is Fulcrum's bar, but like.... It's not a bar? It's a heap.... A heap where those who don't end go to... erm, think about being at the end of the r-road?... It's a big thing. I don't understand it."

 

[Cordinarr]

Port Hope, the Bottom of the Journeyed Road

The Genesculptor smiled warmly underneath his breather, the only indication of such was his biological eye closing in a pleased manner. "It is very nice to meet your Maeota Lullkeeper Seven Three. I'm afraid I don't have my mouth hardwired, but maybe it's something to look into for the future perhaps?...Anyway, yes, my friend is a syntelligence and I have no idea where they may have hidden. If you could show me to this bar so that I could speak with them I would be very grateful. However, I must speak with the Druid, if that's ok with you."

Moving by her, as if he didn't see the gun that could be deployed from her arm at any moment, Six Three approached the figure at the end of the ramp. "Hello there. I am Genesculpor Six Three of the Skeleton Ensemble crew. It's a pleasure to meet you Druid Vista Five One, I heard you were interested in joining us? What made you interested in our little corvette out of the all ships at Port Hope?"

 

[Navian]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

Ziggy exhaled a bit out of her nose, exasperated--even while knowing she shouldn't be. "I just arrived. I'm a bit of a drifter, since no one in particular needs me these days, I look for situations that do. And perhaps that's the 'Ensemble' right now. Pleased to make your acquaintance." She sounded anything but pleased, but kept a neutral expression.

Ziggy didn't seem to have it in her to greet Vista except by raising her eyebrows very slightly, and that was to say they were still lower than their resting position. The eye contact she made with him verged on a glare; she was not the friendliest. The targeting reticule in her cyborg eye did no service in that regard.

 

[Legix]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

"'Kept you waiting, didn't I!"

The girly druid smiled as big as he could and absolutely seemed to swap genders in the act of doing so, the dress around his form fluttering as he gave a small twirl and then popped his hips out much like some sassy pre-teen girl. His free hand sat on the hip, the other with his briefcase raising to point a finger at Six-Three while Vista smiled beyond the intimidating gaze of Ziggy.

"Quite simply, tough fellow fleshies... I need samples! My Love Decant... it seeks a greater goal much like the one I'd heard through the digital grapevine that you might have had. If you're going around and all over... then I can gather samples!"

The Type Three danced his way across the ramp, the big smile not fading as he came right up alongside Six-Three, Five-One scanning his arms as the red machine eye glimmered through the fiery locks of red hair. Strong. Healthy. The eye shifted up to the more intimidating of the pair, the medicae device making quick work of scanning and detecting each mechanical and biological detail. Vista was partially dabbled with handling the likes of Automata and such heavily teched-up kinfolk... but he even had to give credit to wherever this other had come from. But from all his dancing, the skirt hefted up just enough for his dress to reveal the latex-bound, practically nuclear bio-weapon that made up his RTG, a quick brush of his free hand pushing it down as he smiled almost eye-to-eye with the slightly-smaller Genesculptor.

"You're both pretty cute, too... if you have any desire to face your biological desires, you have only but to ask! Body, mind, and spirit... all are necessary within the great void... don't you think?"

 

[Cordinarr]

Port Hope, Ramp to Adventure

Six Three had been taken back a bit, this druid had a been a bit...less reserved than the last one he had encountered. He sighed and relaxed, 'spacers really do come in all types and it felt nice to be among his kin once again. Their explanation had matched their description and their file that he had looked over. His own technological eye scanned Vista up and down to register their being while Five One was busy with Ziggy. It all seemed to be in order thus far, but Six Three still had his questions.

"So you say you heard that we were traveling all over and decided to come along? What do you believe you could offer the Skeleton Ensemble in return for the passage that we're providing?" He crossed his arms, "And do you mind a high turnover rate? We've lost a number of our members thus far to rather mysterious circumstances already. I hate for you to get into something that you might not be ready for."

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

"M-m-most ch-charmed..." Maeota attempted to smile upwards in response to Ziggy's greeting, but was too intimidated in the end. The type three woman had augmentations significantly more advanced than her own, shaping their whole form into something quite like a muscular humanoid. The spider thought about asking them if they might Nepleslian born originally, but decided against it. "Are you hungry, my n-new f-f-friend?... Mister Genesplicer seems to want this automata bar, and, w-w-well... They d-don't serve organic foods..."

Still, through all of this, one eye was sporadically kept on the effete Druid that accompanied her. She really did want to protect him.

"Yes, this bar... I can take you all to the door, if you d-d-.... If you w-would... like..." A trailing voice, with an faux-confident smile. I was possible she hadn't actually been inside before, herself. "Port Hope is okay. You can hear the pipes dreaming. If you talk to the junkers, they let you sleep in the vents... I like them..."

"B-but... Yes, s-s-somet-t-times... You gotta stay away from the big automata... they... t-they're... not peaceful..."

 

[Navian]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

Ziggy shrugged. "I've already eaten today." Scans, if sufficiently intense, could reveal that not only were her limbs mostly replaced by cybernetics, more than a third of her remaining biomass, mostly below the ribs, was cloned and genetically modified from the rest. And though nothing seemed odd about her skin by most tests, medical scans suggested it had as much in common with plastic as living tissue.

She wasn't someone whose tech came from one source, she'd been revived from near death on several worlds and worked on at many corporate clinics for procedures both voluntary and not, besides that. One sample didn't seem to cut it in her case, she was like the collector's edition of Frakenstein's monster, in shrink wrap, with the manufacturer's defect of neglecting to cover her with visible stitching.

"Warm, is it?" She looked at both the new arrivals, shut her eyes, and shook her head. "I don't know what you both need, but I'm stuck here until I find work again, so you have my attention. Even if it involves visiting terminal bars. I'm not very religious, though, you should know. Last time I joined a convent, they put my portrait up on the wall as the Worst Nun Ever."

 

[Legix]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

"Inter~... dasting!"

Vista's smile hadn't faded even despite the much more sobering and withheld personalities of his future crewmates, even taking the time to smile and nod through much of their statements. But his terrible butchering of language had ensured the Type Three plenty of spunk to reject their almost negative aura. After all, Maeota had been bashful and equally restrained before the Druid had been pushing her. Of course, she still was... but she was trying.

"What I need is precisely what I offer~! Helping your wounds in all manners, giving me your genetic blueprints... it's a fair trade, grumpy~. For all those robo-bits, your Fleets had to have given you some lucky sap's genetics... and that's worth all of your turnovers, your rollabouts, or any of those evasive maneuvers! Or sporadic physical endeavors!"

Carefully hefting the suitcase up and taking it in both hands, he smiled just above it to Genesculpter.

"My skills of mending the flesh, the metallic, and the spirit... in exchange for a place with you. The Love Decant taught me well~... and I assure you they made me with a purpose that even a Type Two could comprehend and find my diligence to be sufficient! I am also quite persuasive... or do you think it logical to avoid bringing someone with a smile like mine and a dress as colorful as this with you~? Not like you have to follow the tenants of the machine... just humor me and provide genetic samples of various kinds! In return, my ship and its treasures will be welcome to affix to your fine ship! More functionality and power can't hurt, can it~?"

 

[Navian]

Port Hope, Landing Ramp

"That's quite a pitch... you're sure you're offering a medical plan, not an insurance scam?" Ziggy rubbed her chin with one finger, looking over Vitsta's head. "It sounds like you're not used to earning trust, but what can I say... historically, I've seldom had a chance to be picky about any of this."

She breathed deep, and held up her hands in a combination of a placating and warding gesture. "You have as much right to experiment with my germline as anyone else--somewhere between none and whatever you feel like--but some of my augments are proprietary. I know no one here cares about that, but I also know some elsewhere who have some very dangerous friends and toys, so my best advice is going to be discouraging. Especially since they know where I am, what I'm doing, and who I'm talking to. You get it?"

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Landing Ramp

"Don't know anything about the religious stuff, but... Are you saying that y-you're probably bugged?..." Maeota looked genuinely concerned, holding their hands to their chest. "Even though you are a Three?..."

Milling something over in their head, the robust thing scanned along the floor with it's red eyes, before attempting to ascertain the make and model of Ziggy's components once more. The expression might have been a little like empathy.

"Not hard to find a syntelligence who will do systems check on you h-here, but..." A concerned glance, actually up to her face now. "But not for free. And you said you ain't got the trade to leave, so..."

"Erm, I heard there is a mothership coming in, though? Maybe you can ask them?" They pointed directly at a wall without thinking, which could have been either the location of a docking port, or the actual ship. "The Steel Liberty... I hear they are going up north to check out that signal the funk plugcast was talking about... You listen to that?..."

 

[Navian]

Landing Ramp

Ziggy shrugged. "I'm retired... but that doesn't mean my contract's over. Never will be, unless I get in bigger trouble than I've ever been in, and I don't think that would be easy to do. You could say these legs and this arm are on an 'extended lease'." She tapped her half-mechanical right one. "I figure letting me keep my limbs isn't a bad pension plan... anyway, the genetic augments are touchy, too. I'm just lucky they changed the law, so my daughter's not company property."

She cleared her throat, quite eager to move the topic away from her corporate entanglements. "I listened, but I mustn't have understood that bit. My options are open right now, so I'm ready to hear suggestions."

 

[Primitive Polygon]

Landing Ramp

"Oh, erm, it works like that?..." Maeota's glance mutated into something concerned, then moved over to the Druid who had accompanied them. "Erm... Sorry, Mister Vista, but this deal is... Well, it's gonna be my organs, okay?..."

...Lost in thought for just a second, before they jolted back into the realization that they were around others...

"Erm, well, it's weird what is going on out there, right? It's where all of the genocide refugees went, that's what Lodemucker said... If they are organizing again, why aren't they talking to us?..."

 

[Navian]

Landing Ramp

"Hmm. I can't speak for anyone in particular, but there's some folks who think the reason the genocide happened was because the Free State was too much... like itself... so, they don't want to be a part of it, just in case it'll happen again. The wag-way of saying it is, 'The Art of Never Again is a two-sided coin': it's great to resist tyranny and all, but too much is worse than none. Ergo, Majjhimāpaṭipadā..." Ziggy worked her mouth for a moment, as if she'd just accidentally swallowed a fish. "Which is where they've lost me. I guess they're not seeking recruits, anymore."