RP: Reactivated Reactivated Intermission: Cats n' Scrap

[Commissar Farzi]

RP Date

YE 44.3.5

RP Location

Sandraker

The drone hovered before the woman's still form. She was breathing but had shown little signs of stirring today-though she'd been lucid a few times from what he'd heard. Hovering closer, Steiner started down at Tacho, focusing in on where the bandages covered her eye, listening to the steady blips of the monitoring equipment, before sighing. "You are an Ancestor's Damned fool, Tacho." He stated, before extending a small tool and administering a slight electric shock-not enough to harm her, but just enough to wake her up...

----

Morris sat across from the woman they'd pulled from the base-they'd stuffed her in a spare brigandine-she almost Mike's size-before laying her in a stretcher-a rifle pointed at her in the event she woke and turned hostile-they'd reached the base without incident-Flamethrower making good time despite the balky engine. As they entered the gantry, she'd woken up as he'd picked her up, leading to their current predicament over the last day or so. The neko's bright blue eyes watched him with a degree of wary curiosity, almost like Helena did whenever he'd started playing with her. The man beside him, one of the knights with the Watch, sighed. ("What do you think?") Morris asked, not taking his eyes of her in the event she turned out to be a lot more dangerous than she was letting on. ("Based on her behavior and the information the techs were able to pull?") The man shrugged, before pulling a small piece of paper and setting it in front of him; he picked it up and read it as the man contiuned. ("She's a freshie-was supposed to be shunted off to some base or another before we hit them-likely would've wound up dead if you hadn't pulled her.") The big man looked back up at her-so she was little more than a child?

Ashes and fire-child soldiers weren't unheard of—there were plenty of unscrupulous individuals out there who were willing to use them, but the girl looked closer in age to his own son than a babe fresh out of the womb. ("So what now?") He asked, dumbfounded at what he'd heard. ("Hell if I know, grandmaster's willing to give her parole given the circumstances once he's finished with the Norian-until then she's your problem.") The kinght thought for a moment before adding: ("He also told me to tell you that you and the rest of Onyx need to claim your salvage shares before the rest goes to us and the techs.") Morris nodded before looking back to the woman as the man left.

"Grandmaster's willing to give you parole if you behave yourself," The Yeoman-Sergant said, pulling a flask from his belt and taking a swig-the liquor, some whiskey or another that had more in common with paint thinner than anything-burned its way down his throat. The woman tilted her head-clearly curious about the flask's contents-he held it out-to which she took it gingerly before peering into the cap-a brief sniff followed by a sneeze-before she took a great, mighty swig.

Morris winced as she began to cough violently, tears streaming down her face. Walking around the table and relieving the neko of the flask as he patted her on the back. "It's alright, stuff was a little strong." The big man admitted, before capping it. Well, this was one way to spend his downtime...Freya would hopefully understand; despite the numerous bawdy jokes he knew were being made at his expense...

---
Down in the gantry, the techs were still tallying the salvage and blueprints they'd found...tanks, both damaged, pristine and unassembled were being towed in while the base they'd raided was being stripped for everything it was worth-even the rebar and concrete as they tore it down section by section was being repurposed-ground down or rounded up for reforging...

 

[HarperMadi]

Mike approached the woman from behind, slipping a leather jacket off her shoulders. The knife she had stolen found its way off her belt and onto the table in front of the woman, her jacket wrapped around her shoulders.

"You don't give a slave a weapon, right? What she does with it is her choice. Just like her life, now." She sat on the table where she was in easy reach if th| squid kitten chose to turn violent. But Mike's stature was one that could never be mistaken for weakness. "I could use her in the greenhouse if she doesn't want to be just a trooper. I'll even teach her Valhallan. But I got a lot of teaching to do. Oh. Hey, how many salvage shares would it take to get the best goddamn sniper rifle the gribblies had in that place? Bonus points for all the ammo they had for it. Hell, I'd settle for one of their spotter networks so I can sight in with you guys' body cameras. Gets me juicier ranged shots."

 

[Charaa]

Auli’i stood there, her sharp amber eyes narrowing slightly as she and the other Iron Company smiths examined the chaotic pile of salvage hauled back from the battlefield. Scraps of mangled plating, scorched circuitry, and twisted hydraulics lay scattered before them like a graveyard of machinery. Her tail swished behind her, a languid motion betraying her boredom, until her gaze landed on something that sparked her interest: a cluster of power armor parts. Among the debris, she recognized pieces of reinforced plating, a damaged servo-arm, and the remnants of a neural interface module.

Her ears perked up as a flicker of excitement coursed through her. These weren’t just random scraps; they were exactly what she needed for her personal project—a power armor design tailored to her unique needs. Unlike the standard models issued to Iron Company personnel, she envisioned something versatile, a suit that could handle both the ferocity of combat and the meticulous demands of technical work. Her mind buzzed with possibilities as she mentally fit the pieces into her design.

“Five shares,” she declared, her voice calm but resolute as she pointed toward the pile. It was no small expense—one-third of her allotted salvage—but it would be worth it. The quartermaster made a note of her claim, and soon, the parts were loaded onto a battered but functional trolley. She gripped its handles and began pushing it toward her workspace, the soft hum of the trolley's hover mechanisms mixing with the faint echoes of activity in the base.

The corridor to her workshop stretched before her, dimly lit and lined with worn posters of past battles and company slogans. As she walked, she couldn't help but let her thoughts drift. Her workspace was her sanctuary, a cluttered but organized haven filled with tools, half-assembled gadgets, and the skeletal beginnings of her power armor project. The project had been in her head for months now, but these parts—especially the neural interface—would finally allow her to move forward.

She imagined the suit taking shape: compact but durable, with modular attachments for technical work. A welding torch here, a diagnostic scanner there. The plating would need to balance protection with flexibility, allowing her to crouch and work on intricate repairs without compromising defense. The neural interface would be the crown jewel, making the suit an extension of her own movements, enhancing her dexterity and reaction time. As the trolley glided to a stop in front of her workshop, she allowed herself a small, satisfied smile. She brushed a lock of her copper-colored hair out of her face, her tail swishing with anticipation. Now the real work could begin.

 

[Commissar Farzi]

"Hard to say," Morris responded, watching as the Neko picked the knife up with a strange curiosity that one might make akin to a small child getting a new toy for the first time, "Probably a lot, especially if you're looking to do something like that." That kind of hardware-if the Gribblies had it at all and didn't have some kind of weird bio-organic nonsense that you'd see in a 'Shaper's lab-would likely come at a premimum. Come to think of it between some of the rumor's he'd heard and what the big man had seen there wasn't a whole lot of difference between them and the Cat's tech, save for maybe principal of application.

She'd drawn it now, looking at her reflection with a degree of intensity-moment of truth. "Like she said, your life is yours now...what you do is your buisness." She looked up at his words, before returning to the knife-bringing it ever closer. The yeoman-sergeant was ready to spring in the event to help Mike if she decide to try and give her a new breathing hole...wait...he watched as the neko opened her mouth and-

"Don't lick it!"

Like dealing with a child...

----

Auli'i power armor was one of the massive EARTH armors of nep origin, while outdated and likely due for scrap as it really wasn't in the best of shape, but the internals were in excellent shape-likely could be of some use for her project in the coming months...

 

[HarperMadi]

"Aww, she reminds me of baby me! Marking her territory and allathat... At least she didn't try pissing on it," Mike gave a soft laugh, relaxing a bit. She was still in easy stabbing range, but this kitten seemed more curious than violent right now. Hopefully a little bit of what the Company wasn't known for went a long way, here.

"By the way, fighting out there was pretty intense. How many did we lose?"

 

[GingerGlitch]

Nara stood in the background, watching as this scenario with their squid kitten unfolded in front of her. She tilted her head curiously as Mike seemed to befriend the woman, or at least treat her with some level of decency. What in the sand ridden hell scape?! Was the neko really about to deep throat a dagger? Nara just shook her head, pushing off what she had been leaned up against and walking closer to the group. An amused smirk on her face as she kept her eye out for anything that would be useful for grenades or armor maintenance. She slipped up next to Mike just a respectable distance away, "You mark your territory by licking things?"

 

[Charaa]

Auli’i stood over the battered power armor on her workbench, her golden eyes studying it with a mix of curiosity and dismay. The suit was far from pristine; its once-polished surface was marred with deep scratches, dents, and scorch marks that spoke of hard use and harsher battles. Her fox-like ears drooped slightly as her frown deepened, her whiskered face scrunching with displeasure. This was not the sleek, efficient piece of technology she had hoped for when she spent her salvage shares. Instead, it looked like it had been dragged through a meteor storm—and lost.

She reached out, her soft, furred hand brushing lightly against the cold, pitted metal. Her claws clicked faintly as she tapped on the chest plate, almost as if testing its resolve. "Don’t worry, dear one," she murmured, her voice a soothing purr, "I think I can make you look great. Just gotta look under your hood for a moment." There was a strange comfort in talking to the armor, as if it were a living thing, waiting to be revived under her skilled touch.

Without another word, Auli’i grabbed her tools, her nimble hands moving with practiced precision. She selected a sturdy pry bar from her neatly organized rack and slid its edge beneath a section of the armor’s outer plating. With a grunt of effort, she pushed down, the metal creaking in protest before giving way. The outer layer peeled back like the skin of a fruit, revealing the suit's inner workings.

Her frown instantly melted into a grin, her sharp teeth flashing as she took in the sight. The exterior may have been a mess, but the internals were a different story. Gleaming cables, intact servos, and a surprisingly well-maintained power core greeted her beneath the battered shell. Whoever had owned this suit before must have taken great care of its functionality, even if they hadn’t bothered with appearances.

"Oh yeah," she exclaimed, her tail flicking back and forth with excitement. "I think this will work for my power armor project!" Her voice rang out, bright and full of renewed energy, as she began to imagine the possibilities. The servos alone were leagues better than what she had expected, and the power core looked like it could be modified to provide the precise output her design required. This suit wasn’t a write-off—it was a diamond in the rough.

Her enthusiasm faltered for a moment, and her ears drooped again as she thought of Mama Tacho. The Norian woman, with her intricate knowledge of alien tech and her calming presence, would have been the perfect person to consult. "If Mama Tacho wasn’t unconscious, I could ask her for help," Auli’i murmured, her voice tinged with regret. Her free hand traced the edges of the exposed mechanisms, her mind briefly drifting to her adoptive mother. Tacho had always been a source of strength for Auli’i, and her absence left a noticeable void.

Shaking off the melancholy, Auli’i straightened her shoulders. "She’d want me to figure it out on my own," she said firmly, as if convincing herself. "And when she wakes up, I’ll have something to show her. Something amazing, plus she can still help." Her determination reignited, she grabbed another tool and got to work, her focus unwavering as she began taking detailed notes and measurements.

The workshop soon filled with the hum of machinery and the occasional spark as Auli’i delved into the salvaged armor’s inner workings. She couldn’t help but smile, imagining what this scrappy, overlooked suit could become under her care. With every tweak and adjustment, she inched closer to making her vision a reality—and she knew Mama Tacho would be proud.

 

[HarperMadi]

That... That is bait. Michelle's head snapped to Nara, that head tilting as she considered. Argued. Fought herself. Forgot about Morris and the kitten. All within about a quarter of a second. "You don't? Knives, toys..."

She looked the Norian up and down before settling into eye contact. "Beauties. Ice cream."

 

[GingerGlitch]

Quite casually Nara drew one of her niranium blades from its sheath, licking along the flat edge. The entire time she made eye contact with Mike, "I do. Knives, toys, kittens, and friends. Mostly men though..." she trailed off with a devious grin. "So what of this scrap haul have you claimed Mike? Anything interesting?" Nara said while re-sheathing her blade after cleaning it. "I'm looking for more fun explosive toys."

 

[HarperMadi]

"Haven't looked through it, yet. Been a... Been a lil distracted since Tacho got hit. I..." Shaking her head, Mike stood, moving to rest against a wall, crossing her arms and closing her eyes to disguise any emotions. "You can have my share. I'll live with my tifle and Brigadine."