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Welcome to Year Eight

"Love keeps her in the air when she oughta fall down, tells you she's hurtin' fore she keens. Makes her a home."

Year Eight and Still Flyin'! Thank You, Everyone!

Pages: (2) 1 [2]  ( Go to first unread post )

Posted: Jan 5 2012, 11:09 PM


Group: NPC
Posts: 23
Member No.: 542
Joined: 27-February 08

Carter disappeared into the darkness.

Liberty stood back and let Claudia go ahead before dropping down to follow them, weapon at ready.

She kept her back to the others, taking rear guard. Against logic, sje narrowed her eyes until they ached and the shadows flickered at the edges of her impatient glare, trying to see the unseeable.

So focused was she on what was behind, that she startled when the unfamiliar hushed whisper came from ahead. Air gasped in her throat and, whipping her head around to face the newcomer, she kept her tranq rifle aimed down the corridor behind. But there was no denying that the man approaching didn't look much a threat. Could always be a decoy, but then why warn them about the atmo-feed?

"What now?" Wildback's whisper followed, and she relaxed a fraction, knowing that that the soldier with the big tools wouldn't hesitate to use them.

She wanted to smile. The guy could likely hear anything they said, and they didn't exactly have a secret strategy worked out for folk coming up just to chat, did they? One bright blue eye returned to the shadows and the line her weapon made into them, essentially turning her back on the newcomer. A show of trust. Or not so much, seeing as Wildback would likely kill the guy if he breathed wrong. A pale whisper, less than a lover's murmur, tripped from her lips, "In polite society, we'd offer tea and ask his name, but I didn't bring tea with me."

Raising her voice barely to a full whisper, Liberty took the lead, though she was ready to relinquish it to any of the others at any time, "We're..." Not Allied Officers... "- here to help. You help us, we can help you."

Negotiating with crazy cultists on a leaky rustbucket. When had her life gotten so upside down.
Brian Wall
Posted: Jan 6 2012, 10:25 AM

Builder of Ships

Group: OC
Posts: 16
Member No.: 1,232
Joined: 18-September 11

“What now?”

The man with the machine gun pointed very directly at him spoke softly, to the last member to enter the ship. Whether or not she was the last member of the landing party, Wall didn’t know, but he was glad nobody had shot him yet. That seemed like a pretty decent sign.

"In polite society, we'd offer tea and ask his name, but I didn't bring tea with me."

Under normal circumstances, Wall might have smiled, maybe even given her a mirthful chuckle, but for now, he kept his face serious, if a little nervous.

"We' to help. You help us, we can help you."

He didn’t like the way she paused. She was carefully picking her words, which probably meant that she either had something to hide, or was lying. Either way, this group was worlds better than the others he’d run into so far.

“I’ll do anything you want if you take me with you when you leave this gorram monster of a ship.” he said, briefly gesturing to the white chalk marks on the floor. “Don’t put your face over the lines. Atmofeed on the other side is iffy. Might be there, might not. It cuts in and out.”

He moved back towards the galley, carefully, slowly, so as not to lose them or make any sudden movements. It also kept their collective noise level down, so they were less likely to attract any more attention than they already had.

“Come on. We can’t talk here. Galley’s right around the corner. It’s slightly more defensible than the hallway.” he said. “It’s got doors and everything.”
Hunter "Wildback"
Posted: Feb 23 2012, 07:05 PM

Ex-Browncoat/Current Drunk

Group: Members
Posts: 152
Member No.: 1,159
Joined: 21-April 11

In Hunter's not so humble opinion, Liberty Quinn wasn't taking this threat nearly as seriously as she should. She'd cracked a few jokes which did nothing to change the fact that Hunter was terrified and she didn't give him the “Shoot this guy somewhere harmless, like the knee,” command he so craved. So instead, the drunk stood his ground, both hands wrapped around the SMG even with the barrel pointing at the deck. If this guy made a move, he'd regret it for the rest of his very short, very painful life.

“I’ll do anything you want if you take me with you when you leave this gorram monster of a ship. Don’t put your face over the lines. Atmofeed on the other side is iffy. Might be there, might not. It cuts in and out.”

The mysterious baldly said that he gestured to some lines drawn on the floor of the hallway. So on top of the killers now the atmo was on the fritz?

Great. Just gorram great.

The man was moving now, slowly so the party wouldn't lose sight of him. Well he obviously wasn't a Reaver then. Those bastards wouldn't let you see 'em if they could help it. They'd have blades at your throat and teeth in your shoulder before you knew it. After that... Well Hunter remembered that day so very long ago when all those people begged for death, cried out for it. Yet the Reavers had no pity.

They were monsters, demons out of legend and this party want to rescue some of them? There was a word for that. Fei hua, in the Mandarin. Sure these people weren't genuine Reavers but that didn't matter. If they wanted to be like those monsters they deserved the same treatment. A bullet to the head.

“Come on. We can’t talk here. Galley’s right around the corner. It’s slightly more defensible than the hallway. It’s got doors and everything.”

The man spoke again, shaking Hunter out of his thoughts. Instinctively, his fingers tightened around the handle of his weapon.

Better not let this guy know how scared you are. Fall back on some classic Wildback sarcasm.

“A door? Truly a marvel of technology.” Hunter phrased the words in mock awe. “Will the wonders never cease?” Still, he didn't move, waiting on Liberty Quinn's orders. She was, after all, the leader of this team and he'd certainly pissed her off enough for one day.
Posted: Mar 3 2012, 03:27 PM


Group: NPC
Posts: 23
Member No.: 542
Joined: 27-February 08

“Come on. We can’t talk here. Galley’s right around the corner. It’s slightly more defensible than the hallway.” he said. “It’s got doors and everything.”

It was on the tip of her tongue to refute the offer. It stank of trap, although why this guy, so seemingly normal, if thoroughly unbathed, would trap them, she didn't know. Except that all of Nihalchi had been a trap, a long laid, cleverly sprung trap that had already taken lives from Cade's crew and ship.

“A door? Truly a marvel of technology.” Hunter phrased the words in mock awe. “Will the wonders never cease?”

Liberty tried to put the brakes on the smirk that touched her lips. Despite her extreme dislike for the guy, Hunter's sarcasm was welcome respite from his violent intensity, and it helped draw her clear of her musings and make a decision, "Galley? No. We don't have time for chat. One eye drifted back to Wildback's gun, readily held, a silent reassurance "We need the bridge control center. Now. If you want to help us, get us there."
Brian Wall
Posted: Mar 3 2012, 04:29 PM

Builder of Ships

Group: OC
Posts: 16
Member No.: 1,232
Joined: 18-September 11

“A door? Truly a marvel of technology. Will the wonders never cease?”

Wall ignored the comment for the time being. The man with the gun (the obvious one, anyway) wasn’t the one in charge, so really, he didn’t matter. Only folks that could get Wall off that ta ma de of a ship mattered. He needed to be gone, and in a bad way.

"Galley? No. We don't have time for chat. We need the bridge control center. Now. If you want to help us, get us there."

He considered it for a moment. It wouldn’t take too long to reach the bridge. It was only a few hundred feet away, though that few hundred feet was riddled with spikes and barbs and lord knew what in the dark. There were creatures on this boat, both Reaver and not, that could move as silent as shadows, and spring out to grab you from behind without the slightest whisper of a sound. To get away from all that, it was worth it to lead this group half a deck. If nothing else, he could always double back and try to sneak aboard their shuttle after they entered the bridge.

“Done. I don’t give a go se about helping you, but I do want off this ship. Just keep close and keep your eyes open. We’re only half a deck away, but there’s no telling what is running around in the darkness.” whispered Wall . “And promise me you’ll consider letting me stow away at least as far as your next port of call, if we live.”

He turned from the group, and started towards the bridge, careful to stay inside his white lines. They passed his temporary haven of the galley, and passed the official "common area" without incident. When they reached the corner of the common area, shrieks from below echoed up through the decks, bringing the sounds of terror and agony and rage from the floating and mostly pressurized pit of hell that some would call a ship.

The open area that led past the heads, and to the nearest bridge entrance doorway was blackness, where the light didn't reach. Wall thought he heard someone scuffling in the shadows ahead, but couldn't tell. In his experience, limited as it (thankfully) was, Reavers were either silent before the kill, or roaring with rage. Scuffling meant something else. He wasn't sure what, but he was sure he didn't want to find out.

He turned back to his companions and whispered.

"Stack up. Stay close. Be ready." he said, creeping carefully forward.
Saskia Vass
Posted: Mar 31 2012, 04:00 PM

Crew Member

Group: OC
Posts: 92
Member No.: 171
Joined: 21-September 06

Caleb's Hammer

Saskia stared unblinking at the yawning deep beyond the door for some minutes, every small sound from the comm making her back itch between her shoulder-blades, a nervous twitch of muscle and memory that had her grabbing for her gun only to find Bitte Terry's hand there already. Their fingers tangled together. Bit smiled at her over them, more a crinkling of the eyes than any true smile, but Saskia felt relief and gratitude such that she found herself gripping those fingers tight, breath stuttering out between her lips in something like a smile and a prayer, joined. Muffled into the unbroken line of their joined fingers, it finally loosed into what it was.

She had eyes only for the door, ears only for the comm channel, but she needed neither, here, just as she no longer needed the bits and bobs and accoutrements of her faith to have faith. Incense to see with eyes unclouded. Words of prayer to a dozen gods tripped over themselves in her head, but she needed none of them, only the hot, tight press of Bit's breath against her ear and the comforting presence of Caleb at her shoulder as she turned, again, to the door and what lay beyond. It still waited, a dark promise not yet kept. Still, she did not pray, or ask the gods why this burden had fallen upon them. As with their gifts, when the gods sent you a trial, you didn't ask why it was sent. They would bear up under it, as they had so many things. They must.

She found herself, instead, whispering the words of a lullaby, in the hopes that it would bring lost souls home.
Posted: Sep 8 2012, 11:42 AM

Corsair Class Transport

Group: NPC
Posts: 130
Member No.: 121
Joined: 4-August 06


With the aid of their newfound friend, or perhaps not-yet-discovered foe, Kasern's technical wizards have found their Oz. From the tattered and worn remains Titan's bridge, they've captured control of the castle, or at least, it's gates.

"We're in." Cade's voice, low and cool over their earpieces, affirmed what the lights on the control panel told them, "Seal it up and get down here safe as you can."


The huge open bay was quarter-filled with Kasern's tremendous bulk. Beside her, smaller but bristling with violent promise, The Red Queen settled on her haunches. As the doors of the bay closed and the pressure and atmo within regulated, the intruding ships simultaniousl slid open their cargo bay, leading the way into the silent darkness of the taibse docking bay.

Silent for only the time it took for the pressure to stabilize, then came the slither of hardened bare feet in shadows, the hushed clink of makeshift weapons, and the sullen and sure knowledge that they were surrounded by the denizens of the lower levels of the taibse.

Twenty souls, if souls can remain in such inhuman bodies, ripped bare by Dolenz maddened hands, circled near, staying out of the light that pooled over the grime-ridden floors. As the search teams emerged, the low breathing in the darkness merged into a low hum that grew into raging communal wolf-howls.

Cade and Red led their teams into the madness...
Cade Quinn
Posted: Sep 8 2012, 12:24 PM

Reluctant Captain

Group: Forum Moderators
Posts: 332
Member No.: 116
Joined: 3-August 06

Just a quick reminder of the teams:
Queen Team
Alan Red
Brun Bradley
Galvin Scheuto
Jason Cunningham

Leaving from Kasern:
Zira Griffon
Rory Gene
Eli Hurin

David Miller
Riley Aimes
Princess Janes

Bridge Team:


Cade led the way over the ramp (raised at a slight angle, leaving a clean eighteen inch jump the floor) , staying to the left. From the corner of his eye, he could see Zira advancing down the right side. In his lungs, the air was smokey and thick with rot and dust.

In his left hand, Cade's old military 9mm, freshly oiled and bearing a twelve round clip, stayed low to his hip, and his right hand clasped a stun baton. He had no desire to kill them, but when you knock on strange doors, you never knew who might answer.

He could hear the low howl over the idling engines, wild things baying to a mechanical moon, and wished he'd thought to shut off the cargo bay lights, give everyone's eyes a chance to adjust to the darkness.

"We're here to help you." Cade called into the darkness, answering derangement with reason. His reply was a thick steel blow-dark that whisked past him, striking Kasern's door-seal and falling to the deck with a clatter. Blue eyes turned from inviting sky to ice steel, "Welp, had to try."

With a glance back to Riley and David, Cade dropped to the floor in a half-crouch, and instantly was attacked from the side by a bone-thin, hard-bitten creature that gnashed teeth at his throat. For the first time that day, Cade didn't think. He just fired his gun into the man's chest and watched him fall, mouth gaping for air, sunken eyes wide with surprise. He had forgotten firearms in this world where steel and fire were the weapons of desperate choice.

"Go!" Cade yelled to the other teams, and to his own, "We've got to keep them off the ships! Fight for the stairwell and get clear! Don't kill 'em unless you have to."

Which was lookin' pretty gorram likely.

Pick your fight and make your moves! If you need help or guidance, pm the E.
Riley Aimes
Posted: Sep 11 2012, 02:08 PM

The Fighter

Group: OC
Posts: 17
Member No.: 1,154
Joined: 13-April 11

She didn't like the sounds around her. How could someone become so... primal? Become basically an animal. The strange growls and howls were unsettling. She could feel the goosebumps rising under her jacket. This was going to be interesting, she thought as she tried to adjust her eyes to the darkness around them. Until then, she used her ears to help her around. She was used to fighting in the dark. She used to practice with blindfolds over her eyes.

"We're here to help you."

She kept close behind Cade and occasionally glanced back at David to make sure he was there. She heard the dart whistle past them. Unknowingly, she held her breath, waiting for it to hit something, hoping it didn't hit any of their crew. She heard the clang of it hitting the door seal then another as it hit the floor. She released the breath.

"Welp, had to try."

By this time, Riley could see just a bit in the dark. She could see the natives of the ship standing around. She heard Cade's feet hit the floor and, as she was about to follow him down, she heard him rushed by one of the primal natives of the ship. Immediately, she reached for the gun hidden in her jacket and pointed down. But a shot had already gone off.

"Go! We've got to keep them off the ships! Fight for the stairwell and get clear! Don't kill 'em unless you have to."

Riley grabbed the knife from her jacket and jumped down behind Cade. She had no intent to kill, as Cade said, but she kept her gun tight in her left hand just in case it became a necessity.

There was a strange sound next to her and she kicked, her foot planting against someone's chest. The being grunted, stumbling back. Riley's hand moved as if to back hand the person, but, instead, the blade of her knife sliced the chest of her attacker. It was a shallow cut. He'd survive. He just might be hesitant about getting up.

She heard movement behind her, but wasn't fast enough to turn and stop them. She felt sharp pain spread over her left shoulder and she closed her eyes, stopping herself from letting out a pained cry. She reached for the creature's shoulder and made him bend toward her, forcing him onto her blade. She pulled the knife out, letting the body fall.

Riley looked at her shoulder. She'd been stabbed with something. A knife? Dart? Arrowhead? She couldn't tell, but she had to keep moving.

"Go se!"
Hunter "Wildback"
Posted: Sep 13 2012, 11:49 AM

Ex-Browncoat/Current Drunk

Group: Members
Posts: 152
Member No.: 1,159
Joined: 21-April 11

The Bridge

“Well I’ll be damned; it’s like Serenity valley all over again.” Hunter told the surrounding darkness as casually as he could. Despite the levity he tried to raise with that jest, he knew it was a great deal worse than Serenity. Though his very soul had been scared and spirit crushed that day, his enemy was human, like him. They’d simply kill you; a few quick bullets and it’d all be over.

But Reavers weren’t human. They were terror, evil given form and purpose.

Honestly, Hunter would rather put the purple back on then stand here, waiting to be tortured, raped, and finally eaten. But he’d given Cade his word, and he owed Quinn his life anyway, might as well pay up.

It wasn’t just a debt though, it was honor on the line. All his life, Hunter had been a runner. He’d run from the massacre at the farm, he’d run from his career as an Alliance soldier, he’d run from the impossible odds and Serenity and he’d run from the guilt of his actions afterwards. He’d run straight into the arms of the one thing he always depended on to drown the guilt and shame away; booze. He’d drunk himself half to death in the years that followed, living under bridges and in gutters, simply waiting for his health to fail or for some punk to stab him for a five credit.

But Cade Quinn had found him.

Cade was twice the man Hunter would ever even dream of being, yet he wanted him. He’d armed him, trusted him, given him purpose. If there was one man Hunter was willing to face down the terrors of his youth for, it was Cade Quinn.

But that’s bloody cold comfort right about now.

His hands were shaking furiously, despite every effort to calm them, his gun wobbling visibly even in the dull light, sweat trickling down his neck like a waterfall, soaking clean through his collar. Guard the bridge, that was the order. Guard the goddamn bridge.

“Whatever you say Quinn,” the ex-‘Coat murmured under his breath. “Whatever you say.”

Moments ticked on by, maybe minutes, maybe hours, Wilds wasn’t sure. Then he heard it, a scampering howling in the distance. Aiming his submachine gun down the hallway leading toward the bridge, Hunter steadied himself.

To hell with leaving these wannabes alive, if it comes down to them or one of my people they get the short straw.

Screaming out to the dark recessed of the ship and Hunter’s mind, brandishing jagged blades, crude spears and rusty hatchets came several cultists. Appearing almost out of the dark itself, catching the bridge team completely by surprise. They frothed at the mouth, screaming and howling, looking more than intent on eating everyone hunkered down inside the bridge, after a fun round of torture of course.

If the Browncoat hadn’t been aware that these weren’t real Reavers he’d have been fooled; they looked pretty damn real to him.

“Incoming!” He screamed before opening firing with his weapon. The man didn’t bother aiming, he just acted. Bullets tore down the hallway towards the onrushing mass of enemies, not even slowing the mob.

The ‘Coat fell back behind the bridge’s doorway, taking what little cover from the barrage of thrown weapons and blow darts he could. The cultists seemed to be pouring in from all angles, converging on the bridge. Hunter knew there was no way out other than victory. The moment of truth was finally upon him.

Do or die you lazy bastard! Do or die!

Kneeling behind the burned out remains of some old consol, Hunter took carful aim. He picked out the lead cultist, a bulky man covered in scars and a hideous moustache. Brandishing a spiked club over his head with both hands the cultists lead the oncoming rush with a ground shaking roar.

Letting loose a controlled burst of automatic fire, Hunter shot the pack leader in the knee, completely blowing it off the man’s body. One leg suddenly half gone caused the fellow to collapse, slamming his face on the deck.

“See how I didn’t kill him?” Hunter roared irritated at Liberty before ducking underneath his shelter as a throwing axe flew by. In an instant the cowardly drunk was gone, replaced by a stubborn soldier, one with honor and friendship on the line, one who wasn’t about to go down crying. “If you’ve got Cade or Kassie on the line, tell ‘em we’ve got a big gorram problem down here! Tell him we’ll hold off as long as we can but they need to hurry. No coffee breaks, dong mah?”

Ejecting his empty clip, the drunk reloaded, slamming fresh rounds into place. He breathed out once, slowly, then stood up to unleash another volley.

These monsters wouldn’t take the bridge, not while he drew breath.

OC: Lets rock and roll people.
Brian Wall
Posted: Sep 14 2012, 08:48 AM

Builder of Ships

Group: OC
Posts: 16
Member No.: 1,232
Joined: 18-September 11

Brian lay on his back, staring up at the mess of wires that hung from the access panel beneath the copilot’s console. He tried very hard not to wet his pants as he worked.

The monsters had arrived, and Brian was rightfully terrified. The only thing that might’ve frightened him more was if he was on the wrecked ‘Hadrian’s Quest’, back in the cargo bay, unable to move, unable to flee, on that Eider class piece of go se, with monsters crawling in through every vent hole and entrance they could find or make.

He shuddered. Thoughts like that at a time like this didn’t do him any good. They didn’t do anybody any good. He had relatively competent (he thought) people watching his back, and a potential way off of the nightmare that used to be a cargo ship. Things were looking up from where they’d been that morning, but he could still end the day raped and eaten, so...there was that...

For now, he busied himself with restoring as much power as he could from beneath the console station to the left of the captain’s chair. The least he could do was reroute some power to the least, the ones that weren’t burned out. He stripped wires from the nav panel, and rerouted them from there to the main power input for the console, forcing the nav screens to flicker to life, casting an eerie glow onto the bridge, but it also lit up the panel from beneath, giving him more light to work with.

“Sorry, sorry.” he muttered, fairly certain nobody could hear him over the howling and gunfire and shouting. “Should have that fixed in a second.”

He kept his fingers moving, stripping wire with his teeth and crossing circuits left and right. He managed to get the main lighting to come on, though it was only about a quarter of what it should’ve been. The hallway outside the bridge, though, lit up almost eighty percent of it’s length, giving them a nice clear view of the oncoming enemy.

Brian glanced down the hall as he moved out from under the console to see what other systems he could bring online, and wasn’t sure if a good view of the incoming attack was a good thing or a bad thing.
Eli Hurin
Posted: Oct 17 2012, 01:10 PM

Sniper electrician

Group: Members
Posts: 11
Member No.: 1,157
Joined: 16-April 11

Docking Bay

Squinting against the light, Eli pulled his balaclava up to cover all but his eyes, making the covering of black as complete as he could before heading down the other side of the ramp. He could hear Cade and Riley's first meetings with the natives, but he soon had his own problems. A growling hulk rushed him the minute his boots hit the deck of the once happy Titan. He dropped to a quick crouch and swung the butt of his rifle to the monster's crotch, following it up with a jabbed elbow to the lowered temple.

Not waiting to see if the fallen man was dead or just unconscious, Eli put his back to Kasern's hull and swept the docking bay in a smooth motion as he dropped to one knee. A second attacker got one of Princess Janes' silicone bullets in the hip; even through the rifle's silencer, it still had enough force to drop what appeared to be a woman. Maybe... used to be a woman. So little time for thought, suddenly. Hurt or kill first, that was all that existed for those first few minutes.

Stairwell, stairwell... where's the gorram stairwell! Eli screamed in his own head, ignoring the clammy feel of fabric against damp skin. So insignificant right now.

He spied a metal staircase that led to a catwalk above, then saw someone on the catwalk just a moment before that someone launched a projectile that glanced off his left arm, followed by more that banged against the ramp. Something blunt, but it hurt all the same. The catwalk assailant got a bullet in the chin, which sent a second one scrambling away. Eli didn't care where, because he had finally spotted one of the actual stairwells near the fore of the ship, right around the time the unmistakable echoes of a sub-machine gun traveled down that metal hell. Faint as the sounds were, Eli still sent a questioning look back at both Zira and Cade before he pointed himself at that stairwell again.

His rifle sights swept across the path from Kasern to the first mission objective, and the sound of two more silenced bullets brought first a grunt from the stark shadows, then a splat as the second missed its mark and encased a charred button that once would have called one of the lifts down to this level. He fell back on the old Browncoat hand signals to say he was moving toward the stairwell, then he scooted off in a crouch, counting on cover, hoping for the best.
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