RP Wars on Distant Shores (Starbound USCM RP)

Date: 2130.1.5
Time: 600 (Starboard Time)
Location: SS Black Sheep, Condor Class Spacecraft. Currently holding orbit over planetary system Alpha 052A, known locally as "Frostball"

A snow-covered planet is floating alone in the cold void of space. It's sun, a red Dwarf, burns in the background. There is nothing else, save for a spaceship hanging in orbit over the snow-covered planet, Frostball. It is made up of two sections, the bridge in the front of the ship, where the captain commands the ship, and a cargo hold in the back, where a majority of the ship's systems are located. The two are joined by a thin walkway, a tiny neck compared to the giant head and body of the ship.

In the very center of the ship lays the teleporter. To the stern of the ship (the back end) are the primary cargo holds. Ahead of them lie the recreational quarters, three of them in total placed upon each other. Here, USCM soldiers and hired mercenaries relax and prepare themselves for battle.

It is crammed and packed, barely enough seats for everyone aboard. You are standing around when you hear an announcement over the ship's intercom.

"Attention passengers and crew," The captain's voice boomed through the ship, "This is the captain speaking. We have just finished loading up the last of our cargo, and we are doing final checks. We will be jumping in ten, get in your seats everyone. That is all."

With that abrupt click, the intercom shuts off, and the soldierly, recruited and hired, begin to move around, finding their assigned seating.

Admist the chaos, a distinct voice calls out.

"Corporal Johnson!" It belongs to a young man, mid 20s, early thirties. He is dressed in green camouflaged fatigues, mud brown hair cut close to his head, military style, and his eyes are hidden underneath his polarized sunglasses. A pistol hangs by his side. The insignia on his chest marks him as a Sergeant.

"Corporal Johnson!" The man calls off again, reading off a metal tablet, a Codex, actually. "I need you to come over here for a second."

ITEM GET (All Players): CODEX. A handheld device that is used for data-storage and personal use. Inexpensive and used commonly throughout the galaxy.

 

Bustow shrugs on his jacket. He can still feel the coldness of Frostball, despite being miles above it. He makes his way to his seat at the far end of the room, ducking past many soldiers. Once there, he sits down and makes himself comfortable. He is glad to have gotten a seat.

 

Going planetside on a frozen chunk of rock was not what Flamewing wanted to start out his mercenary work. Even though they were in orbit, he already felt the chills. He was leaning against the wall, trying to shift to a position where his assault rifle wasn't hurting him. That's when the ship's communication system blared out a message. Jumping in ten... The avian thought. He had never been in a situation like this. Of course he had seen fighting, but never beaming down to a planet to the unknown surrounded by a bunch of soldiers and mercenaries.

He found his seat, of course sitting next to another mercenary. An Apex it seemed. He barely got settled when a human soldier in alien regalia called over a corporal. Flamewing probably should have known the ranks of the USCM better. But he could hardly be bothered to care for USCM politics and whatnot.

 

Wincing at the volume of the message, Vivian strode over to the nearest available seat, which happened to be a single chair away from the Apex and Avian, and sat down. Shivering a bit due to the lack of heat, she crosses her arms to warm them up a bit. She glances around, observing her surroundings. Honestly, it was natural for her, as she had been taught to do so her entire life. 'We're certainly an interesting bunch.' She thinks to herself.
Leaning back, she waits for the jump.

 

d'Artangan walked over and sat next to the other two mercenaries, some monkey, and a bird. He hated the cold, yet burning to death was a much less elegant way to go. he checked that his pistol was loaded and his equipment was all set. He settled into his chair. "Hey ape, what's your name? Buster, right?"

 

Bustow looked up, startled by the sudden conversation. 'Uh, yeah. Bustow, actually, but pretty close. What's yours?' he asked.

 

"d'Artangan. A bit of a mouthful, I know. So I would say we're gonna have to stick together if the going gets tough down there." he looked around at the nearby marines suspiciously, "I'm sure that the they'd be more than happy to let us die and not have to pay us, rather than send in their own troops to get our backs. A slippery crowd these guys are...."

 

Bustow let out a dark chuckle. 'I'm sure nothing would make them happier than to not have to pay us... Speaking of which, how much are they paying us, exactly? I hope it's more than what the rebels paid me. I could barely afford to feed myself. Then again, it was always kind of that way..." Bustow trailed off, gazing into space and reminiscing about the past. Suddenly, he blinked. 'So... where are you from, d'Artangan?'

 

"I was born in the Andromeda 7 system, but I don't have much affinity there. I was an orphan. The main why I got money was from theft and er...well a group of people saw my talent for stealing things and recruited me to their mercenary group. I spent the next few years with them, training, until I got in trouble with some very powerful people of that organization for er...." He trailed off and looked down at his shoes.

 

Bustow nodded with understanding. "Ah. I see. I was raised on a Miniknog controlled planet. I couldn't really steal with the camwras everywhere, but I did my fair share of pick-pocketing. Nothing much, mosty got spare change. My dad was a rebel, and I guess one thing led to another and I joined him. It seemed like a good idea until everybody died. The Miniknog tested out some huge new bombs. I was trapped in one of the underground prison cells, which I guess was pretty fortunate. Anyway, I was stranded there for almost a year before I managed to signal a passing USCM ship. I was pretty lucky."

 

"Yeah, a slow death of starving is like floating off forever in space. It's the solitude and isolation that really gets you in the end. I decided to try and get hired here because I ran out of stolen goodies from Orion, even though I had an ally on the inside for a while. Actually I was friends with almost everyone there, but I badly screwed something up with the boss and they forced me out. I still got the occasional visit and sometimes even some money from them, then one day one of their visits turned out to be an attempt on my life. The boss didn't like someone who knew the inner-workings being alive and against them. I'd still be there if I hadn't messed up something...."

 

Sighing, Lucerentia walked over to the nearest unoccupied chair, slipping by some other soldiers as she did with an acknowledging nod.

Another day, another job, she thought, sitting down next to a fellow female human marine - who herself is only one chair away from a group of three mercenaries - and stretching lightly on the uncomfortably minimal chair. The lack of heat can be felt even from the confines of the orbiting spaceship, and there wasn't much closure in observing her surroundings, either, considering it's about as dreary as it always is.
"You know, I'm not sure whether I would prefer to run standard drills back in the barracks or to spend time around a frozen space rock", she mused to nobody in particular, inspecting her pulse rifle and running the standard checkup procedures.

 

Flamewing saw the seats around him filling rapidly, two female marines and two other mercenaries talking about their past very loudly. An Apex ex-rebel and a more experienced mercenary. He pulled off his rifle and put the buttstock on the ground, barrel pointing up. His leg was restless, bouncing up and down, he folded his arms in front of his chest, conflicted on whether or not he should say something. Well, maybe it'd be smarter to make friends with the USCM, maybe that'd increase his chances of living. The other mercenaries were right, the USCM would probably prefer to not have to pay for the mercenary services.

When one of the marines close to him talked, seemingly to no one, he replied, "Only if the planet wasn't frozen..." He said and gave her a quick look, his voice with a very obvious accent.

 

Come on, come one. This is taking quite a while, it's far too cold for my liking here...

Vivian's thoughts were interrupted by another voice entering the muddled conversation aboard the ship. Turning towards the source, she noticed another woman checking her equipment. With a small wave, she tried to start a conversation to pass the time.
"Why hello there. I'm not much of a fan of all this waiting around either, it's quite irksome and dull, wouldn't you say? I don't quite remember your name, i'm sorry. Lucerentia or something or the other, wasn't it? My name is Vivian, but you can call me Vivi."

 

"M-hm", Lucerentia nodded in agreement to the Avian's comment, her gaze not once diverting from checking her gun. Distractions are bad when you're handling volatile stuff, after all.
"I'd much prefer if we spend time around a temperate planet, personally, not a frozen space rock or a scorching desert or a stuffy, humid jungle", she voiced her own opinion, one she was sure most would agree on.
"Then again, I guess I can blame the Red Dwarf for not producing enough heat... Anymore", she added, acknowledging the state of the dead star. "Besides, I heard there's worse places to go to, so I should count my blessings"

Weaponry check finished, she turned to her conversation companions then, the Avian and the fellow female mercenary, and returned a light wave.
"Also, I'm Lucerentia Edelweiss, Private. Given name, surname. I like to be called Luce, but whatever floats your boat"

 

"I can understand the red dwarf not producing enough heat, but it produces enough heat for closer planets. Shouldn't whatever reason we are going to this planet be a little closer to the sun." He said, "Though, a desert planet doesn't sound so bad right about now. I'd feel at home." He replied to her mentioning of planets, the mentioning of a desert making him feel a little happier.

When they introduced themselves, he waved to them both. "Greetings, Luce and Vivi." He said, looking between the two, trying to solidify in his memory their faces. After all his life could rely on it soon if they got into battle.

 

Bustow shuddered at the mention of a desert planet. "Heh. I don't think a desert planet would be as welcoming for me. Maybe a nice, warm, ocean planet," he mused. He noticed many seats filling up around him and was glad to have found one of the first ones. "How much longer until the jump?" he asked.

 

"They said ten a few minutes ago, so I'd say we're getting pretty close. Anyways long story short, don't sleep with the boss's daughter...seven times...." He took out a small knife from a sheath on his leg and examined it, spinning it around on his hand, passing the time until the jump.

 

"I'll try not to." He pulled out a chocolate bar from one of his pockets and unwrapped it. "Hey, you want a piece?" he said, breaking of a corner and offering it to d'Artangan.

 

"Oh hell yes." d'Artangan takes the piece and pops it into his mouth. "I never find any time to savor the chocolatey goodness anymore. I haven't had chocolate in a long time."