@CaptainSully When can we expect a post from you, buddy?
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Cyne sat at the table, alone after Silas and Gerad retired for the rest of the evening. Cards laid strewn about the flat surface in messy collections where their holders previously occupied while a row of winning cards and a pile of credits was amounted on Cyne's end. He leaned back and grinned, satisfied in his winnings and his efforts after being dealt a harsh and costly blow by Gerad earlier on. The set back was not easy recovering from.
The room grew quite once everyone left, leaving himself and his own thoughts as his company. Peering to his left, he could see a row of screens emulating accelerated space just beyond the six meters of internal infrastructure, hull, and armored plating that separated him from the outside as if they were windows. Specks of white; distant stars whose light managed to be captures during their FTL transit, streaked by as blurred lines in contrast to the blackness that emplaced their surroundings. Checking his watch, it was nearly ten minutes to midnight; per the galactic standard time anyway. It was only recently that he had gotten used to the time schedule for space travel versus the schedules for the many different planetary cycles of worlds he'd visited.
Seeing as there was little for him to do, he gathered his winnings and retired to his quarters, where he would attempt to drift off to sleep and hope to be unconscious for more than 12 hours all the while mentally grappling with himself to silence the inhuman screaming that still lingered.
The room grew quite once everyone left, leaving himself and his own thoughts as his company. Peering to his left, he could see a row of screens emulating accelerated space just beyond the six meters of internal infrastructure, hull, and armored plating that separated him from the outside as if they were windows. Specks of white; distant stars whose light managed to be captures during their FTL transit, streaked by as blurred lines in contrast to the blackness that emplaced their surroundings. Checking his watch, it was nearly ten minutes to midnight; per the galactic standard time anyway. It was only recently that he had gotten used to the time schedule for space travel versus the schedules for the many different planetary cycles of worlds he'd visited.
Seeing as there was little for him to do, he gathered his winnings and retired to his quarters, where he would attempt to drift off to sleep and hope to be unconscious for more than 12 hours all the while mentally grappling with himself to silence the inhuman screaming that still lingered.
Apologies for the delay, fellas. I'll have a post up tomorrow.
Came up short for any further edits for the current post so I figured posting again to get into the current scene would've been more appropriate. Plus I wanted to start off page 3. =P
"To be fair," Cyne began as he came from behind Gerad and joined his squad mates, "we did sign through the liability and responsibility segment of the deal. That one's on us for agreeing to pillage a vessel for a mystery prize."
Cyne made his way around the table and took his seat and dealing himself a hand of cards. He then eyed Silas only briefly, "we're not doing that again unless we're charging interest. But honestly, I'd rather not run any further Hive-related jobs for a long while."
If it can be helped, that is. His eyes finally laid on the content of his card-filled hand and silently observed the numbers and characters in his position. An intrigued expression soon manifested upon his face, his left brow raising and a half-grin pushing into his right cheek.
Cyne made his way around the table and took his seat and dealing himself a hand of cards. He then eyed Silas only briefly, "we're not doing that again unless we're charging interest. But honestly, I'd rather not run any further Hive-related jobs for a long while."
If it can be helped, that is. His eyes finally laid on the content of his card-filled hand and silently observed the numbers and characters in his position. An intrigued expression soon manifested upon his face, his left brow raising and a half-grin pushing into his right cheek.
@Arthanus I will later today. College has picked up for bit though I have caught up on it. I'll get that done.
I normally don't post a half finished product but I intend to expand upon my post later on once a few more details are figured out. I suppose you can consider this phase of the story more of a "winding-down" moment before we kick things off again. Kinda like the moment in-between missions.
Cyne shot a sickly glare towards Gerad, leaning against the inner framework of the Crimson Fang, "My stomach disagrees..."
Gerad however wasn't wrong though; they were so very close from becoming stranded due in part by the neutrino wave were it not for the last second jump. Had the moment been any longer, they probably would have been at the mercy of cosmic forces around them. If not that, then the remnants of the SSA and the KOT would be upon them for sure. Thankfully in the end, it was their head start against the other mercenary vessels, more so with the artificial singularity, that was enough to keep them out of death's grasps or in a confinement cell.
With an amalgamate of effects from dense neutrinos and rough vertigo plaguing him, no thanks in part with their frantic and rushed docking within the Legion's End, Cyne struggled to bring himself to his feet. His suit's exo mechanisms compensated for his erratic movement as he lurched forward and caught hold of one of the railings and leaned into it, trying to fight off the daze. He didn't know how Garundin or Fungai responded to the same abuse but he knew it would be minutes before his body would naturally adapt and eventually recuperate.
Hours later, having rid himself of his suit, bathed, and donning is casual fatigues, Cyne was once more in the bridge helming communications. While they were now hundreds if not thousands of light-years away from Poseidon's Belt, some chatter could be picked up from numerous relays and outbound transmissions. The broadcasts were barely what one would consider quality and not at all surprising, given they were in FTL transit. Nevertheless, he was able to at least piece together the events that transpired after they booked-it out of the system.
The moment Gerad's device went off, it had gathered the attention of everyone in the system. Fighting between the SSA and KOT forces immediately ceased with an apparent understanding coming together between the two factions. Everyone else uninvited were wise to leave rather than dealing with two larger parties whom were in mutual agreement. The details became sparser but it seemed that an investigation regarding the Balrog's complete destruction had taken place afterwards. Cyne leaned back into his seat and rubbed his eyes between his right hand's index finger and thumb. The dwindling facts and reports eventually evaporated as the ship finally came out of range where it's subspace transmitter could no longer pick up outgoing transmissions.
Cyne continued to lean back and stare at the ceiling. Their debrief was, unsurprisingly disappointing. What was originally believed to be a huge paycheck in their laps turned out be less than half than the crew were looking towards. Selling of Macklyn's ship and their loot of weapons would guarantee their income, it simply wasn't the same than what everyone had been preparing for. All the mental and psychical preparation that went into such a mission seemed devalued although there was no doubt it was that same preparation that got them off the Balrog in one piece. There was that positive at least.
Gerad however wasn't wrong though; they were so very close from becoming stranded due in part by the neutrino wave were it not for the last second jump. Had the moment been any longer, they probably would have been at the mercy of cosmic forces around them. If not that, then the remnants of the SSA and the KOT would be upon them for sure. Thankfully in the end, it was their head start against the other mercenary vessels, more so with the artificial singularity, that was enough to keep them out of death's grasps or in a confinement cell.
With an amalgamate of effects from dense neutrinos and rough vertigo plaguing him, no thanks in part with their frantic and rushed docking within the Legion's End, Cyne struggled to bring himself to his feet. His suit's exo mechanisms compensated for his erratic movement as he lurched forward and caught hold of one of the railings and leaned into it, trying to fight off the daze. He didn't know how Garundin or Fungai responded to the same abuse but he knew it would be minutes before his body would naturally adapt and eventually recuperate.
Hours later, having rid himself of his suit, bathed, and donning is casual fatigues, Cyne was once more in the bridge helming communications. While they were now hundreds if not thousands of light-years away from Poseidon's Belt, some chatter could be picked up from numerous relays and outbound transmissions. The broadcasts were barely what one would consider quality and not at all surprising, given they were in FTL transit. Nevertheless, he was able to at least piece together the events that transpired after they booked-it out of the system.
The moment Gerad's device went off, it had gathered the attention of everyone in the system. Fighting between the SSA and KOT forces immediately ceased with an apparent understanding coming together between the two factions. Everyone else uninvited were wise to leave rather than dealing with two larger parties whom were in mutual agreement. The details became sparser but it seemed that an investigation regarding the Balrog's complete destruction had taken place afterwards. Cyne leaned back into his seat and rubbed his eyes between his right hand's index finger and thumb. The dwindling facts and reports eventually evaporated as the ship finally came out of range where it's subspace transmitter could no longer pick up outgoing transmissions.
Cyne continued to lean back and stare at the ceiling. Their debrief was, unsurprisingly disappointing. What was originally believed to be a huge paycheck in their laps turned out be less than half than the crew were looking towards. Selling of Macklyn's ship and their loot of weapons would guarantee their income, it simply wasn't the same than what everyone had been preparing for. All the mental and psychical preparation that went into such a mission seemed devalued although there was no doubt it was that same preparation that got them off the Balrog in one piece. There was that positive at least.
@Dealdric Always happy to see another recruit. You SC is pretty solid as well as your OC. I'll check in with @Arthanus about final approval. Currently though, we're just about to wrap up this arc of the story. I am currently exploring avenues about introducing your OC though I can at least see Ducaelia participating in the next mission for sure.
@Athol Fantastic post! Really liked how you went into detail about the FTL; I had the same exact thinking. Also, my bad about not getting back to you about the Legion's End bit. We were under the idea about having the ship being controlled by Sven remotely though I am thinking about shifting the idea to have other personnel on board. That'll come later though.
I'll be getting a post together soon and go over the after-mission "consequences".
I'll be getting a post together soon and go over the after-mission "consequences".
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