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RP: Section 6 What God Farted Over Here?

Michael finished his prayer shortly after she arrived and rose, placed the sword back upon the altar and turned to see her. For a moment, he looked surprised. Then he mentally shrugged off the intrusion. “Welcome to the chapel.” He spoke to Setsuya as he offered his hand to help her up from the pew even if it wasn’t necessary. “So… it appears we’ll be following the fleet into NDC territory and then once the fleet is docked there they’ll be providing assistance with the defense of NDC locations while we search for a place to call our own.” He informed her as he walked with her out of the room.

“All hands, all hands. Prepare for FTL. All hands, all hands. Prepare for FTL.” Came the announcement over the PA system as the ship’s engines began to spool up a massive amount of power.

“Hold on.” He stated as he grabbed Setsuya’s upper arm and gently pushed her against the nearby wall while planting his feet as if he were about to try to bash in a door.

Their FTL seemed… different. Rather than being a smooth ride from point A to point B their ships seemed to tear a hole in the fabric of reality itself in order to move to their destination. The result was a rather jarring transition that left unsecure items flying down the hallways to crash into nearby walls and doors. Thankfully, people seemed prepared and experienced spacers helped those that were new to this concept. It seemed as if those that spent much of their time, like Michael, were capable of bracing for this sort of treatment and walking through it as if it were a normal occurrence. On the other hand, the inexperienced usually vomited or even fell head over heels as the ship leapt to the other end of the sector.

“Jarring. You alright? That jump was… strange.” Michael stated. His feet had slid a few inches back. In his homeland, he wouldn’t have moved an inch from that sort of jump.
 
Setsuya didn't say anything at first, only raised an eyebrow at the man who was almost pressed up against her. "Trust me, we have forms of FTL that are not so smooth. Also, I would appreciate it if you took a step back. I'm a Nekovalkyria, such turbulence is trivia to my kind. We can control gravity around our body, and with our enhanced strength, hand more then stress then humans." She stated this plainly, not bothering to comment on him taking her hand without permission, but she figured now maybe the best time to bring it to his attention.

"Captain, if I may. You are very forward. On several occasions so far, you've made physical contact with me. You've patted my head which might I add is generally frowned upon, you grabbed my hand earlier, and now where you are.....rather...close. If you have something to say, then simply say it please."
 
"Sorry... just instinct I suppose." Michael responded as he removed his hand from her arm. If he was less disciplined, he might have blushed. "And no... nothing to say yet. It's partly just training and partly protective instinct. We've got a lot of people onboard that aren't spacefaring in the strictest sense..." he began before taking a pointed step back and changing the subject. "So... gravity manipulation. That's a neat trick. We don't have anything quite like that on individuals back home. And enhanced strength... your species are peculiar." Michael responded as he stepped back again. He was nearly against the opposite wall by now and as he remembered something along the lines of people that aren't military still have the concept of personal space he realized just how close he'd gotten to Setsuya.

In proximity of course. He didn't know her well enough to uh... make contact in the other sense of the words. "Yep... anyways. I'm sure you'll be excited to hear we're hanging out with NDC for a few hours before we ship out. So uh... your mom is here? We should probably go see her?" he continued to dig himself into a deeper hole as he tried to dig himself out of it.

Poor Michael. Social graces weren't his forte.
 
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She gave a sigh as he moved so far away, "That's the woman I was hugging before. Also my species is peculiar because were made to be that way. Nekos were created for war, we're super soldier cat girls more or less. Kinda odd yeah, very weeby, and entirely female. I swear, some days, I cannot believe our inventory was such a perv. That being said, we bleed, we breed, require food, water, and oxygen. We may not be natural, but we are every bit alive. Just so ya know."

Setsuya gave a nod as they were both quiet for a long moment, her turn to rub the back of her neck a bit nervously, "So, yeah, FTL is kinda different here........um, are we going someplace, or just standing here awkwardly staring?"
 
“I… see. Well, God has a plan for all his creatures; artificial or not. After all, we are all sapient beings.” Michael responded as Setsuya gave him an indication as to what it was like for the Nekovalkyria. “Right… um… this way. Not awkwardly staring…” he said as he made the familiar ‘follow me’ gesture and led her to the bridge once again. “Anyways… I’ll show you where your quarters are after a bit. Right now I think it’s more prudent that we handle the task at hand. Suffice to say though, Mr. Oaklen will be nearby and I believe your quarters will be relatively close to mine. Only a few dozen meters away. We’re practically neighbors already.” Michael continued; completely oblivious to how insane that sounded.
 
"You seem real excited to show them to me alright. Sure you have nothing to get off your chest?" Setsuya teased with a giggle as they walked to the bridge. After a moment she returned to her casual demeanor, as if the whole awkwardness hadn't happened. "I'll also need a tour of the ship later if permissible." she added, not bothering to comment on the fact he mentioned Mark Oaklen, but not in an important way. She grinned, getting the feeling Mr. Oaklen had downplayed his position and importance.

The view outside was impressive as the fleet came into the system, numerous planets around a G type star. The NDC ships flew just ahead, heading on a course for the sixth planet in the system, where over 60 more ships sat in orbit, or on various patrol routes at various distances from the planet. The world was verdant, but oddly orange over the usual lush green seen on most worlds. A large space station of unknown design sat in orbit around the 5 world from the sun. A comms buoy floated nearby, advising in numerous languages to stay away, the site being a quarantined zone. The planet it orbited was highly volcanic, covered in black ash, but however with vast fluorescent oceans.

The other worlds were either barren rocks, gas giants, and a rather large ice giant. It was certainly a swarm of activity at a glance, with a few civilian freighters and other small transport craft coming and going.

"Their fleet has certainly expanded since my last visit. That one really big one in orbit, the one you can see all the way back here. That's the Tartarus, their dreadnought. My dad almost drooled the last time I brought him a holo of it. He's a very big nerd for starships and the engineering behind them. He's back in yamatai territory though, enlisted like me."
 
Michael looked on the ships with an unreadable expression on his face. It was perfectly neutral… to the point of being too neutral. Seeing so many ships in one place with the inclusion of the UCS ships, Michael was being reminded of a great many moments.

“Get ready Marines!” another voice in his head spoke from a time so long ago. Michael had seen much bloodshed, many lives lost and many more lost to fates far worse than death in his short life.

“Make ready! Prepare for combat!” Michael shouted to the other Marines whom currently stood inside a metal coffin together. There wasn’t a lot that they could see nor would they have wanted to see it. Flak erupted all around the torpedo that they resided within and the dozens of ships that their vessel was screaming silently to get to were creating a nigh impossible to pass wall of destruction.

“They know we’re coming! Get tactical! LZ’s gonna be hot!” the pilot shouted back as the ship came into view on her cameras. The boarding torpedo fired dozens of small plasma arcs which it used to cut into the enemy’s hull while simultaneously the spent cells were ejected. Normally, these plasma cells would have held dozens of shots of the deadly material. Instead they had ejected that shot into a single burning passion to breach the enemy hull. The torpedo slammed home into the weakened outer hull and burrowed in the remainder with pure kinetic energy. The Marines inside were spared from flattening against the front of the shuttle only by inertial dampeners though their ride was sufficiently turbulent. “Touch down! HIT IT MARINES!”

The front of the pod blossomed open as the Marines ran towards their foes; bayonets affixed and guns firing at a maddening pace. A scream arose from both sides as all soldiers, in unison, let their rage and anger flow through their weapons. This war wasn’t fair… not for them. They were all pawns in a wealthy man’s game after all. It was all soldiers ever were and unfortunately all that they would ever be… even as guardians of freedom for their loved ones.

“GO! GO! GO!” shouted Michael to the others as more boarding torpedoes slammed into the hull and created new outlets for fresh troops as his squad and himself ran into the confused and surprised enemy forces. Bullets, lasers, plasma and blades flew amok as Michael hefted his heavy weapon onto the scene. “Get clear of the door!” he barked as he raised his weapon to waist level and fired a deadly beam of microwaves towards the targets before them which did not simply burn; but instead exploded into showers of gore, armor, blood and brains and more.

Warfare was a bloody business. Michael had been a part of that business for too long. He barely registered the lives ending at that point in his life anymore. They were practically paper cutouts of people to him. Of course, on a subconscious level that wasn’t the case. Michael wasn’t a monster. Was he?

A plasma bolt slammed home into his arm and Michael’s weapon hit the ground with a near Earth shattering clack in his mind though in reality it was merely a drop in an ocean of noise. He was thrown backwards by the explosion. His armor was smoldering and near molten in places; and threatened to cook him alive if he didn’t leave soon. Too bad there was no way back without a shuttle to pick them up. “Sergeant Oliver’s hit!” shouted another Marine as he ducked next to a wounded Oliver, minus one of Michael’s arms. “Christ! He’s fucked up!”

Michael’s arm reflexively clenched in his fist as he recalled the day that he’d lost it. The mechanical contraptions beneath synthetic skin were, admittedly, top of the line for the UCS. But though they were just as real as the rest on the surface they were still mechanical underneath. “Helm, bring us in. Follow the remainder of the fleet and prepare us to go to battle stations on a moment’s notice. I’d like to believe that our friends here mean well but let’s not make the mistake of thinking that no one can ever double cross us for the sake of an ambush.” Michael commanded.

“Sir? Are you sure?” the navigator responded as he turned back in his chair.

“I said prepare us. I didn’t say to bring us to battle stations. Have everyone at general quarters.” Michael clarified as he leaned back in his chair just a bit more. When Setsuya began to speak, Michael seemed to come out of his… whatever it was… just a little bit. “Your father is enlisted as well? Your family sounds similar to mine. At least on that measure. Mine have always been soldiers under the UCS though before that I believe we were United States soldiers. ‘Course that was way back in our family tree so we aren’t one hundred percent sure.”
 
"As far as I know my whole family is. My dad is a helmsman, flew the YSS-Sakishima, YSS-Eucharis under Shosho Hanako Ketsurai which was my last stationing as well. Then he was transferred recently after she was decommissioned to the YSS-Bucannear docked at Shiroyama starfortress. Grandmother is retired and a part time artist, my sister Suzume is at Shiroyama as a Ranger, along with my daughter Sachiko. So thankfully they're all stationed together. You've already kinda met mother, she's a armor team leader for the NDC. Makes getting together hard, but always a joy to hear from them as you can imagine." Setsuya explained with a grin, happy to talk about her family, clearly proud of them and their service. She ignored his orders to the bridge, unworried about his skepticism, as she knew the NDC would show they were far more friendly then the edgy paintjob spoke of.
 
“My father was a Marine. He died before I was born. My grandfather was also a Marine but he survived until I was… ten? I think? I don’t really remember him that much. I was too young. My mother was a Navy pilot but she retired to take care of myself and my brother until Virginia was bombed. It killed her. And my brother. I only survived because I was lucky. She put me in the basement of the house right before the bombs fell.” Michael said as he closed his eyes and leaned back in his chair. He could hear briefly the sounds of artillery falling and alarms blaring across a grassland. Those were distant memories. He’d come to terms with those. There were other demons to fight in the meanwhile. “My people have seen a lot of war in their time as a nation. We’re used to fighting tooth, nail and claw for everything we have. We’re also tired of war. Most of us just want to find a place to live the rest of our days in peace.” Michael stated as the helm sped up and began to match course the dock with the nearby station.

“That station under quarantine… what exactly is happening there?” Michael asked as he opened his eyes and looked to Setsuya. “Helm, stop forward motion.” He commanded. “Set course for that station. Do not dock and prepare to deploy assault shuttles. Full combat gear. Get the Marines ready.” He stated as he stood up and faced Setsuya. “There could be people that need our help there. We should make all due haste.”

“Sir? We know nothing about anything here…”

“I’m aware of the potential consequences but we can’t have a plague so close to our fleet. Get Marines ready to board and prepare medical teams for swift evacuation of all potential civilians and the like. Microwave guns, flamethrowers and incendiaries ready to deploy once inside.” He continued. “Once we’re inside, no communications from the fleet in or out until I give my authentication codes. Setsuya, you’re with us. Grab Mr. Oaklen and put a gun in his hands. Everyone works here in one way or another.” He commanded as he gestured to a nearby Marine. “Take her to the armory.”
 
It had been a while since Spark had spoken up, and it was almost as though she hadn't been there for some time. But even if he was her idiot royal brother, Mark was still a royal. And her brother. She wasn't going to leave him without a guard, even if he ordered it. "Sir. Your quarters are satisfactory, I trust? If you don't mind, I'll be sticking around. Can't let my brother run about withoug his escort."

For such a large woman, she had proven herself quite stealthy.
 
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Setsuya looked at Michael with concern, "What?! No, why, obviously if it says quarantine! Clearly it's warded off for a reason! Captain, I think it's prudent to respect the warnings and barriers of the nation here. Please, halt this before they react negatively."

As if on cue, sensors would light up as the S6S-Shield ignited a hard burn to swing itself around on a arc to block the Sojourner's path. A hail was directly tight beamed to the ship as it sped as fast as the large ship could go. ["Admiral Casdan aboard the S6S-Shield to UCS-Sojourner, halt your course immediately. You are headed for a quarantined zone, there are no survivors aboard the station. Stop and resume course, or we will take action. The quarantined must be maintained."]

Meanwhile Mark quickly turned about in his room as he heard Spark, "Holy fu-?! Spark, what the hell, I thought you left?......wait, why is the ship stopping, we aren't there yet."
 
“Alrighty…” Michael muttered to himself as he shook his head. “S6S Shield, this is Sojourner. We are planning to launch assault shuttles to the quarantine zone. The lack of survivors only simplifies out mission. Quarantine will not be broken. Move aside and let my Marines do what they do best. I will personally lead the charge. Any personnel going know the risks of staying. The plague must be contained not only for the safety of my fleet but also for your own people. Over.” Michael transmitted as he indicated for the helm to switch course to rejoin the fleet. “It would seem as though they don’t want us to intervene yet. We’re going to that station though. I won’t let the fleet be in an area that can potentially eradicate them.”

"Prepare to launch assault shuttles and fighter escort." he told the CAC.
 
"Never left, sir. Guard duty. Still, If the Shield's stopping, timing's about right for the Quarantine zone." Spark shrugged. "Speaking of, I'd like the opportunity to collect samples. We've left the Mayer Strain pretty much uncontained up there for six months. It'd be interesting to see the development, and I may be able to bring some interesting samples back."
 
"...........Spark.....one, you're starting to sound like Rose which scares me. Two, WHY WOULD WE BRING A EXTINCTION CAPABLE PLAQUE BACK WITH US?!" Mark cried in frustration, a hand rubbing his face with a clap. "Just get to the damn bridge and make sure they aren't going to do something dangerous please."

"See I told you so. For the sake of not creating a diplomatic incident, we should comply." Setsuya stated from by Michael's side, very concerned with how things were escalating. "Admire the confidence, and the drive to action, but need to tone it back just a bit."

["Negative, any craft crossing the line will be fired upon. These orders are absolute and are set by the lords themselves. I beseech you to listen, and do not create a incident. Respect our boundaries, your fleet's safety is guaranteed and will be upheld by us while you are here in our territory."]
 
“Alright… it would seem that our friends really don’t want us there. I suppose we’ll turn around… for now. But we’re getting on that station and purging the absolute hell out of it.” Michael grumbled as he waved the CAC to stand down. “C-V-S Sojourner complying. Mark my words, we will be returning once we have authorization to do so. A potential plague cannot be allowed to exist within the systems that UCS ships inhabit. Suggest alternative cures of launching multiple thermobaric rockets into the station and detonating them from within in order to ignite the station’s atmosphere and destroy remaining infections. Over.” Michael replied as he, begrudgingly, complied with the NDC ship that was commanding him away from the station.

The Sojourner matched course with the remainder of the fleet though the missile cells did blossom open like flowers as the Sojourner received a target lock on the station. For now, she did not fire. The remainder of the fleet seemed to take heed of the unspoken warning and ships that were passing relatively close moved away from it while also locking on. Still, no one fired a shot… for now.

“Setsuya.” Michael prompted as he sat in the Captain’s chair. “Why would the NDC allow such a potentially virulent strain of a virus, parasite or otherwise to exist so close to their world? I’m afraid I do not understand. Are they incapable of dealing with it or have they chosen otherwise? Or am I not seeing everything about the situation?”
 
"We don't have any notable data on development of Mayer Strain in an uninhibited environment, sir." Spark shrugged. "Harmony and a few of the other technicians would be interested in digital photos and samples. Video of infected behavior would also be nice. That said, I'd just get in the way so... You can't really order your sister away from your side."

She casually breezed out the door, being sure to set her comm piece to an open line with Mark's Geist. "Sure, send my big dumb infantry ass to go handle diplomacy and political shit. Sure, let me just go up to the bridge and give the captain a box kick! Fuck this, I'll be outside, I cannot leave my charge unguarded. Mark, if you need a coffee bitch, call a damn orderly!"
 
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["Acknowledged Sojourner. Thank you, all will be explained during the meeting. Your men must be briefed before any tactical action here, and required to work with the Biohazard Rapid Response Force for such an operation. Shield resuming escort formation."] Casdan's voice said with a deep sigh of relief.

"That station is not of any known design, meaning it belongs to some other people who we have no idea if they still exist. I also understand it that it is giving off signals as if there are inhabitants still aboard, but there are no life signs and none found on either trip to the station. It's bizarre and has local scientist baffled, but caused several issues. One, what if there is life aboard in some form we don't understand? We could possibly start a war they aren't prepared for. The other issue is with that what if they are the only ones, you'd be committing genocide. They don't want to let the station be tampered with until they understand the situation fully, and they certainly want to avoid anyone else stumbling upon such a mistake. They're looking out for your people, trust me on that, they just want to handle things carefully. It's how they've partly survived this long." Setsuya said sympathetically, hoping to clarify the fragile situation. She was hesitant, having the urge to place a reassuring hand on Michael's soldier. Going against her better instincts, she gently rested a hand on his shoulder, "Please trust me. Also, sorry if I just made myself a hypocrite."
 
Michael listened to her explanation of the situation and sighed. “I suppose this is why I never became an officer in the UCS military. Then again, I enlisted for a reason. Desk jobs are boring.” He said right before she placed her hand on his shoulder. For a moment he tensed but seconds after relaxed. Her touch was…

Michael stiffened up again and regained his composure. “You’re not a hypocrite. Everyone touches everyone eventually.” He replied. “Er… what I meant to say is uh… everyone… needs physical touch to express their emotions at times.” He corrected as he realized what he’d said earlier.
 
Spark could almost feel Mark's eye roll on the other side of the door as she leaned against it and pouted. "Sir, you know I can't leave you unguarded even if you order me to. Not as your subordinate and not as your guard. So I'll let you have your special happy time, but I'm not going anywhere."
 
"Spark, you're a well behaved lady as usual aren't ya. I took this because I wanted to get away, I need.....some time away......from the family, from.....that orb. I miss Koro every day Spark, and it hurts, because I know she is never coming back. You of all people should understand that feeling, but hurts more when it's your spouse. Thank you for the company, but please, don't cause me any more grief then needed." Mark said inside the room solemnly, knowing she would hear outside.

Setsuya gave him a sympathetic smirk, her fingers giving a gentle squeeze, "Kinda right on the first, definitely on the second. Just needed to let you know....i'm here to help, despite ya know, being here also officially as a representative. Regardless of the star army's stance, I care, just as I care about the NDC. People are people, and we should be there to help each other, otherwise...what's the point if not to be connected with those we share this part of the galaxy with?"

With the situation averted, the escort resumed, until they were brought to orbit. Transports were sent up baring engineers, and materials for repairs, as well as units for fabricating parts needed. A message was sent to every ship, requesting lists of supplies needed among anything else they required. The Sojourner would receive a text based transmission requesting a meeting to start talks with the NDC governing body.
 
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