Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

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Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #25 – January 11, 2020, 04:31:26 PM

[Ensign Seren | Cell ( shared with an emotionally unstable madman) | Unknown building (More fortified than a first inspection would have predicted)| Unknown celestial body ( This better be Aldea.) | Forbearance]
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att: @TWilkins @fiendfall@Sqweloookle

The humanoid which was monitoring them stepped out into the light and approached to their cells. It was the same one that had been lying, covered in blood, beneath the shuttle's wreckage. He looked young, quite young, someone who had barely left the roundness of childhood and who still showed some of the ungainly features of adolescence. It was evident that the boy was doing his best to look tough, even menacing. When the spotlight finally shone upon him, however, the Vulcan had no choice but to find parallelisms between the disheveled young man and a sehlat pup he had once found nearby the sanctuary. It was a famished creature, all bones and joints hardly covered by a mangy, parasite-infested pelt. Yet the beast, like the young humanoid that approached them, displayed its teeth, as if it were the king of the desert, both proud and fierce. Yet the counselor knew that the carrion eaters would sooner rather than later would fest in the boy corpse, just as they had made with the cub.

Although there was little doubt about the boy's association with their captors, it was logical to express compassion for him. It was evident that his partnership with these abductors was not voluntary or, if it was, that it was dictated by factors which were too compelling to be disregarded. Most likely his collaboration was coerced in some way, possibly the boy's life was the payment he would have to endure in case of betrayal. A truly unfortunate circumstance.

The scruffy young man reached the cells and Seren had a chance to study his body language in more detail. The first thing that became apparent was his distaste for Adam Kingston. The Vulcan lacked context about why this aversion had developed, but it was simple to extrapolate that something had happened during the altercation that had culminated in their captivity that had established an antagonistic attitude between the two men. Seren would have to consider this later on, but at the time he was more intrigued by the way the young man was clenching his fists. It was not merely an angry and frustrated expression, there was something about the way his fingers flexed and the sinewy musculature wriggled under the dirty skin that suggested the gesture might be something else. Fascinating.

Seren pondered on this when, finally, the young man spoke. The Vulcan blinked once. Then he blinked one more time. Finally, a third,as he stared at the young man's lips. He was making sounds. Sounds that had a vague meaning in the delicate Vulcan's ears, but which he was unable to fully fathom. It was obvious that the young man was struggling to produce these sounds and that they were foreign to his tongue and throat. But Seren failed to recognize them. The young counselor tilted his head to the side. The closest thing he had ever heard was the gibberish his cellmate emitted, and even the words of the long-haired man were marginally easier to understand. For a moment, the Vulcan wondered if the two men shared some aberrant variation of the Federation Standard, some spoken in some wild, uncivilized corner of the galaxy.

Eventually, a word became meaningful. Starfleet. He asked them (or pointed out) that they were Starfleet officers. Seren simply acquiesced wit a nod, half-assuring the veracity of that short statement and partly inviting the young man to express himself further. Then his jailer tapped his own chest, adding a new word, one that Seren was, again, unable to comprehend. Perhaps a name? A species? The name of the group or organization he belonged to? It was difficult to ascertain, but Seren needed a way to keep him talking. Communication led to understanding. Understanding led to sympathy and forbearance. Perhaps they could make him realize that there were different opportunities for him outside those crumbling walls, out of the organization that obviously exploited him so deeply.

"Yes, we belong to Starfleet," he confirmed when the boy pulled the combadge he had concealed so far into his hands and let it reflect some of the dim light. His cellmate also confirmed it, while he introduced himself as 'Avi'. The counsellor made a mental note of his short name. Avi. It rolled oddly on his tongue, simple and sonorous, very different from the emotional turmoil that flowed under his skin. And even more so to the unintelligible jargon he had a tendency to emit. The Vulcan lifted his hand to his chest and pointed at himself. "Seren" introduced himself, suppressing his instinct to add rank and affiliation. He then motioned to the young man on the other side of the force field and inquired. "How do you feel" The Vulcan knew that the young man was wounded prior to the attack, and although maybe that was part of his performance as bait, the pain he had felt in the young man was real. And the Vulcan severely doubted that their captors had provided him with any medical attention beyond mere superficial treatment.

OOC: Sorry for the late update, return to routine has been a little hectic on my part.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #26 – January 15, 2020, 03:32:46 AM

[ LT. JG Adam Kingston | Dirty Cell: Unknown Location | Aldea Prime ] Attn: @Numen @fiendfall @TWilkins

Standing at the forcefield, Adam was disappointed in his colleagues for revealing too much information. Though he realised that perhaps maybe this little one probably isn’t in the group leadership and considering the lack of strong standard language understanding Adam was positive the young man wasn’t in a position of authority.

Oh well done for keeping it secret that Starfleet was here at Aldea as per our Captain's orders, Adam thought as he'd report Seren's lack of protocol understanding. Still he called over to the other cell. "Shut up, both of you." Adam glared at them. "First rule of being a prisoner: don’t give your captors any information." He told them quickly so not to give the young man a chance to process what was said and held his glare. He shifted it to the young man. "Bring or take. Me. Your. Leader, boss, chief." He said slowly so to sound out the words with authority.

He maintained the glare at the others as he repeated himself. "I mean it shut up." He smirked at the Vulcan asking how the young man felt, a Vulcan counselor seemed rather odd, though he had to admit that a Vulcan understood emotions and how it affected themselves so may be able to apply at least some of that knowledge to how emotional humanoids needed that kind of help.

Yet complete disregard for their Captain's orders and immediately revealing they were Starfleet, that is a security breach.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #27 – January 25, 2020, 06:30:08 PM

[ Avi ] Attn: @TWilkins @Sqweloookle @Numen

Watchin' Corpse Kid all careful-like, tryna get a read on the bloke. Was clutchin' that combadge awful tight. Looked pretty fuckin' miserable, all in. Poor sod. Couldn't afford t'go gettin' all doughy over him, though. Learnt his damn lesson there, at least.

Spinach speakin' had him glancin' over in surprise. Seemed they was on the same page, tryin' t'be nice t'the kid an' all. Hadn't expected that. Figured Spoon for a stick-arse. But then, maybe was just an endless bleedin' heart. Was the reason they'd walked into a trap, this fella tryna save some kid. Awful Fed-like of him.

Matey Boy didn't agree. Management. Must be. Christmas. Sent 'em both a glare fit t'shrivel your dick, clearly not hardly impressed with 'em rollin' over on the Starfleet thing. An' yeah, honestly? Fair enough. Was true, shouldn't ever give up info free-like, nor hardly at all. Was a right fuckin' pickle they was in, this kid knowin' they was Fedfolk. But weren't hardly Spinach's fault, not with that combadge plain as pie in the kid's hand. Even if somehow this kid hadn't pegged it for Fleet tech, anyone with half an eye would soon after.

Which was why keepin' this kid here with them was the only fuckin' play right now. 'Cause, yeah, weren't ideal this bloke knowin' nothin', but was a right sight better'n anyone with any fuckin' power knowin' shit. This was just a kid, half-starved an' shaky as fuck. A kid what 'Starfleet' clearly meant somethin' to. An' they could work with that. Maybe— dunno, maybe flip 'im? Long fuckin' shot, but he'd done it before. Had it done, too, so knew both fuckin' sides. Was the only play he could think of what didn't start escalatin' shit. Might as well give it a run, see how far the track went.

But the moment they get some big Management fuck in here they was cooked. Start bringin' leaders into the mix, have the kid cough up they was Feds, could bet your left nut it'd go south afore you could say 'protocol'.

Nah. One kid they could deal with. Was just a case of persuading Mr Management over here. Bloke meant well, but clearly ain't twigged yet that followin' the rules was sometimes a quick way t'gettin' yourself offed.

Also — bless 'im — clearly thought the best way t'makin' hisself understood was to vomit a thesaurus at the kid. Bless his cottons.

'Ship's sailed, mate,' he called across to the bloke. 'Damage control, keep this b'tween us lot, don't go gettin' no bigwigs involved.' Hoped the bloke too it alright. Weren't hardly anglin' t'get slapped with insubordination on his file day fuckin' one, but right now a wanky report was the least of his troubles.

 Turnin' to the kid, speakin' slow again: 'Nah, no need to go gettin' anyone else involved, yeah? We're havin' a nice little chat here. Gettin' t'know each other. What's your name, where you from?' Hoped the bloke didn't hate 'em enough t'get talkin'. 'F they had t'try gettin' outta here through the boss, would make a whole lot more mess for the Theurgy. An' if they had t'try gettin' outta here guns blazin', was a good chance half of 'em wouldn't make it. Erev weren't even awake, didn't hardly know if he was even alright.

Nah. Kid was the best shot they had for right now. Had to at least try and take it.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #28 – February 02, 2020, 12:58:57 PM

[ Otheusz | Grey Scars Base | Ruined Former City | Aldea ] @Numen @fiendfall @Sqweloookle

Othuesz had swung his head back and forth between the cells with such frequency, that his brain was beginning to spin within a foggy cloud.

They spoke to him, and their words were reaching his ears in Ornaran, thanks to the translation talisman. Yet, understanding them was another matter, and he furrowed his brows as he made his best attempt at contemplating what any of the men were telling him.

The one with the long hair and the shining ear asked him to ‘come again’, before telling Otheusz that he had ‘recieved it’. The Ornaran was baffled by the dance of words that had fled the man’s mouth, until he spoke again, and made the confirmation that the four prisoners were indeed with Starfleet. Almost as if the word was a trigger, Otheusz felt his body grow twitchy and warm, pulsing in a way that made him want to climb up a wall. His excitement allowed him to disregards the instructions about coming and receiving, and instead birthed another litany of questions for the man in the cell.

The long haired one continued to talk, but the non-haired one spoke before Otheusz had established what ‘Avi’ meant. The hairless headed man also confirmed his affiliation to Starfleet, before he used the word ‘Seren’ whilst pointing at his own chest. Otheusz wondered whether ‘Seren’ was an identification? A title like ‘Queen’? A name like ‘Otheusz’? A species like ‘Spider’? His eyes furrowed and the corners blossomed with little creases, as the hairless headed man asked him how he did feel.

Yet, just as the Ornaran began to process the reply, another voice came from the other cell, sending the younger spinning as he turned to face the opposing man. He spoke faster and louder than ‘Seren’ did. He talked about rules, and captors, and information… But the words travelled past Otheusz and into ‘Seren’s’ cell, angry words that Otheusz perhaps understood a few of, until the man began to direct words into him.

Otheusz received instructions, not unlike the Queen gave him. The man in the cell wanted to be taken, taken to… A ‘leader, boss, chief’. Otheusz wasn’t sure he was aware what those words meant in collaboration, but singularly, he undersood them to be synonymous with his least favourite word. ‘Queen’.

Then words were shouted back into the opposing cell, and the opposing cell were called back across to him. There was talk of spaceships flying, and destruction. A word was used, ‘wigbigs’, that Othuesz didn’t understand, but enjoyed the sound of. Perhaps, these four men had been left on the planet when their Starfleet spaceship had flown away, or perhaps been destroyed! He assumed that ‘wigbigs’ was their opponent, the one who had destroyed their vessel… From what he knew of Starfleet, they were very powerful, and to be destroyed must have taken a very powerful foe.

And then more words came, this time, hitting the blonde in the back of his itchy head. He glanced over his shoulder to see the ear-shine man speaking whilst looking at him. He said many words, but Otheusz understood some. ‘Anyone else involved yeah’. It was clear that they wanted to speak to his Queen… That they viewed him as a waste of their time to be speaking to… The shine-ear asked for his name, where he was from, as if Otheusz hadn’t already told them the latter…

The boy adopted a furtive scowl as he realised that the men were insulting him just like his Queen and her men.

“Oth-e-usz…” He growled lowly, glaring at the shine ear. “Orn-ar-a!” He told the man again, before tilting his head to the other cell, walking up to it with a pestilent look shadowing his face. Perhaps these mocking men didn’t realise that the Queen would be cruel to them, that she would send them to the slave markets without a second thought, if they proved not to be valuable. To determine their value, it was torture. So often he was involved in the act, holding some part of their body and slowly pulsing his bioelectric current through them at his Queen’s behest, continuing until they spoke some words, the right words, the words that she wanted to hear.

“W-w-wan-n-nt Quee-een?” He pointed at the man with a dirty nailed digit. “Quee-een m-m-ake…” He began, before stepping back from the cell, stepping away from the angry man who had shot him… He turned back to shine-ear, before his eyes fell past him onto ‘Seren’. ‘Seren’ had been nice. He was slow and said things that were easy to listen to.

“‘Seer-ren?” He pointed once more as he tentatively approached the opposite cell, pointing at the hairless head with the sharp ears. “Oth-e-usz…” He pointed back to his chest as he spoke, poking at his sternum several times. “Quee-een…” He said again, pointing upwards to the floor above him, several floors above, in fact, where his Queen would be. Otheusz furrowed his brows as he attempted to do something that he hadn’t done in… So long he couldn’t remember.

A sentence.

“Quee-een…” He pointed upwards, gestures used to assist in his dialogue. “Oth-e-usz…” He swapped his gesture to all but punching himself in the sternum again. “H-her-t See-ren…” He gestured at the hairless-headed-pointy-eared-man once again. “Un-d Eee-or…” He changed his point to be affixed on long-hair-shine-ear-man. “Un-d…” And he turned to face the third man, miming his hands into a figure of a weapon, a phaser, shooting.

“H-her-t.” He tried to exaggerate, vigorously pointing at all three men in a very agressive manner, trying to convey the gavity of the situation, noting that none of the three men looked remotely fearful in the face. “‘L-lyke Wag-bogs’!” He raised his voice, hoping that using a creature as fierce as the wag..? Wig? It mattered nonetheless, as his plan failed, and the men’s faces did not embody fear at his words, even when mentioning their gravest enemies.

“Oth-e-usz…” He began, trying to explain once again, before he roared in annoyance and ferociously kicked at the bars of the cell, sending an almighty clanging noise echoing down through the bowels of the building they were occupying. These men found him amusing, trying to communicate with them in his broken language. Or perhaps they simply failed to understand his obvious words, instead fixating on trivial matters, like asking him for his home multiple times…

If they didn’t believe the threat he posed, he planned on showing them, his anger bubbling up into a joviant energy that rippled through his body with a reassuring tingle. It made him feel powerful and deadly. He growled again as his hands jolted with arks of bioelectric energy, tones of vaguely purple-white light ripping through the air above his palms as he extended one hand to each cell, showing the men that he wasn’t some laughable runt that they could dismiss.

Just once, he wasn’t going to let someone ignore him in favour of the cruel Queen he was so hopelessly enslaved to…

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #29 – February 04, 2020, 11:11:28 PM

att: @TWilkins @fiendfall@Sqweloookle

Seren always had had Adam Kingston in high regard. He had always exhibited an efficient and proper attitude in relation to his role and rank. Nevertheless, in the circumstances in which they currently found themselves, he was displaying a crucial lack of insight and a penchant towards authoritarianism unbecoming of a Starfleet officer. Apart from a lack of respect for his fellow captives and for the boy who, for the time being, was his only option for getting out of that place. So, the counsellor resolved to pursue the most optimal approach to the issue, disregard Kingston's illogical requests and focus on his primary objective: escape from that facility and return to the Theurgy. So, as the sole response to the security officer's tantrum, Seren rised on of his perfect slanted eyebrow for 5.3 seconds, on the best display of Vulcan skepticism.

Surprisingly, even his unfathomable cellmate seemed to be on the same page as him and seconded his approach, first by dismissing Kingston instructions as unproductive, and then by backing up his endeavours by trying to lure the boy to their side. In a somewhat extravagant way, but that man seemed to be made of flamboyance and unorthodox methods. Perhaps there was a certain underlying logic in all that jargon and irritating behaviour.

Perhaps.

At this point his intentions and goals matched with Seren's and he apparently had a keener understanding of the situation than Kingston, so the Vulcan decided to take full advantage of this.

However, the boy didn't look so happy with the outcome of the situation, and soon he began to exhibit signs of frustration and anger. An anger that, by the miniscule microexpressions that Seren was able to unravel in his face and body language, also concealed an important degree of fear and despair.

The Vulcan let the boy speak his mind, and then he tried to clarify as much as possible of the excruciating gibberish he was uttering. It became evident that he was doing his utmost to communicate with them something important, and he deserved attention and respect for that endeavour.

The initial idea was simple. A name.

Oth-e-usz.

Othheusz.

And then another word, Or-na-ra.

Seren remembered a similar word, Ornara, home of the Ornaran. They had been briefly quoted, in one of his early academy classes, as an example of the application of the Prime Directive with space-faring species. Although the Ornarans and their planetary neighbors had appealed to the Federation's assistance, the starship making the call was not allowed to perform acts that would imply an interference in the development of one (or several) civilizations. Seren recalled that the lesson had evolved into a vigorous debate, with some of his classmates fervently positioned in support or opposition of such decission, but he had no memory of the exact nature of the interference under discussion. Nevertheless, it was a species that had a certain amount of knowledge about Starfleet and the Federation, something that could prove to be in their favour.

Meanwhile, Otheusz made a new attempt to communicate with them. The words were coarse, jagged, but, after several repetitions, the meaning was obvious. The leader of the organization, "The Queen" had hostile intentions towards them and getting their attention was counterproductive. In fact, even Otheusz seemed more willing to keep talking with them than to reach out that "Queen". However, all his efforts to establish dialogue with them soon resulted in even more disappointment for the young Ornaran, threatened to jeopardize all their plans.

Seren determined that it was time to intervene.

"Otheusz, listen to me," Seren said, raising his voice to overcome the boy's snarling sound. "I understand you," he continued once the young man's attention shifted to him. This time his voice sounded softer, but his tone remained calm and collected. "We can help you. We can take you far from the Queen. We can protect you. Starfleet can protect you." Seren delivered his sentences quite slowly, emphasizing each word to make it easier to grasp. "But before that, you must help us." He stressed the sentence, expecting the meaning would be clear for the boy.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #30 – February 11, 2020, 10:27:17 PM

[ Avi ] Attn: @TWilkins @Numen @Sqweloookle

'Otheusz, listen to me, I can understand you,' says Spork, an' thank fuck 'cause Avi ain't got a doughnut's chance'a figurin' out the shit that kid just said. Shapes an' sounds, total gibberish, no fuckin' clue mate. Wagbogs? That even a word? Translators were s'pposed to, y'know, translate, right? Not a bloody chance. Gun to his head, couldn't tell ya the fuck that was meant t'mean.

Spaghetti, though, looks like he's the fuckin' pirate whisperer over here. Avi happy t'just sit back an' hope t'make sense'a some'a this just whenever, y'know, sometime hopefully, soon would be good but no pressure, take your fuckin' time you two, no bloody rush or nothin'.

Looked like that particular collection'a sounds was the kid's name or somethin'. Othy-whatever. Sure. Corpse Kid. Same difference.

Offerin' Starfleet's protection, though, now that was a fuckin' laugh. Couldn't protect 'emselves outta a paper bag right now. Couldn't barely stop folks in their crew bein' nabbed by randomers neither. Mate. Just fuckin' peachy. Still. Clearly meant somethin' t'the kid. An' didn't take a genius t'start makin' edumacated guesses on Othyfuck's situation right here. Prob'ly weren't all jammy, just sayin'.

Weren't no bleedin' heart, weren't completely off his fuckin' rocker, still got some sense in the old noggin. Kid would prob'ly shank 'em soon as look at 'em. An' even if by some fuckin' miracle they managed t'get outta here, get the kid on board -- and leavin' aside what a fuckin' headache of a conversation that would be, 'yeah hi good to meetcha, Andy sent me, here's this random kid I found can we keep him' -- Theurgy weren't hardly gonna be no fuckin' picnic. Folks only comin' out here if Anderson twisted their bloody arm. An' yeah, from lookin' at Othyface was prob'ly a damn sight better'n whatever was goin' on here -- met plenty'a queens in his time but gotta guess this one weren't hardly that kind. Fuckin' Feds could be tightarses an' dickheads sure as anyone, but had t'figure they'd still be a bloody upgrade. An' the kid sure looked like he could do with one of those.

Mate. Bloody listen t'him. Goin' soft as puddin' in his old age.

Would be easier 'f Corpse Kid didn't look all of twelve, tryna square off an' look intimidatin'. Fuckin' child. Sit down, wash your damn face, eat somethin', Christmas.

Bloody hell.

'We want t'talk to you, kid,' said as clear an' gentle as he fuckin' could. 'We can get you outta here, if you want.'

Even pretendin' he weren't a fuckin' softie for a bloody minute, it weren't the worst play they could pull. Gettin' that queen fucker down here would spell bullshit for all of 'em. Take her about all of two seconds t'sniff 'em as Feds, an' then they'd be fucked five ways from Sunday. This kid, though... Kid could be suggestible. Worth at least tryin' t'flip him. An' if they failed, no harm no foul, weren't hardly gonna make anythin' worse. Nah. Was a decent play. Just had t'fuckin' remember that's what it was. Head in the game, dipshit, we got work to do.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #31 – February 18, 2020, 07:07:45 AM

[ LT. JG Adam Kingston | Dirty Cell: Unknown Location | Aldea Prime ] Attn: @fiendfall @Numen @TWilkins

Clearly the other men failed to see the reasoning why he had demanded for a leader. Should this ‘Otheusz’ be caught by this ‘Queen’ he fears so much, self appointed no doubt as no real royalty-- Okay well he’d reserve judgement of that when he met her, this young man would pay dearly for disobeying her should he be found helping them.

Adam couldn’t have that happen so taking Otheusz out of the situation, the security officer believed, protected him from danger. Bigger picture stuff but since they had ignored his order, which he’d report, Adam hoped they could backup what they said to Otheusz.

Finally he knew the man’s name: Avi. He’d introduced himself before Adam told them all to not give information. When Avi had mentioned Damage Control, Adam knew it would be more than that soon. He chose not to answer.

When Otheusz offered him this Queen, Adam nodded. "Yes, Queen." He replied calmly, he was still a capable fighter. Maybe this Queen enjoyed watching fighting, like in the ancient times back on Earth. He noticed the combadge in Otheusz’s hand as he was too focused on other things before, they didn’t have any Starfleet tech on them only the stuff the Aldeans have them. That meant Otheusz got it before Theurgy arrived, on his homeworld of Ornara.

He must have got it from the Ornarans who’d been rescued by the Enterprise D with the Brekkians from a freighter explosion. They asked for the Captain’s help but Picard refused after learning of the Brekkians drugged the Ornarans. Adam then wondered why Otheusz would trust Starfleet after that, though a scout ship had passed Ornara to check up on them in recent times to find that the two planets continued to trade in the drug. After a quick unenthusiastic encounter with both races on a freighter the scout ship crew learned that the Ornarans aren’t addicted anymore but choose to continue, well most. Some had left the system, Adam surmised that Otheusz must have either been one or a son of parents who did.

It appeared that Otheusz was indicating that the Queen will hurt them all along with the young man’s frustration and anger at something that his display of the bioelectric ability both the Ornarans and Brekkians shared due to the high magnetic properties of their star.

Then Seren cut in attempting to calm Otheusz, Adam had a thought that maybe the young Ornaran could overload the forcefields using his bioelectricity. It’s a handy feature and it made Adam jealous, his mind immediately went to other pleasure related uses for the bioelectrical trait.

Adam blushed before he threw that line of thought into a mental box and locked it. He’d have to visit Ornara, or Brekkia, some day. Focusing back on the Vulcan’s words Adam rolled his eyes. "Yes, Seren and how do you propose to protect Otheusz from this Queen from inside our cells?" He asked the Counselor, it seemed they weren’t in a position to do anything but be at the Ornaran’s mercy.

Indeed, they could attempt to get Otheusz out and it was foolish to promise but he’d go along with this. They weren’t going to listen to him anyway. "We’d also need our gear back and,” Adam said before turning to Otheusz, ”You will have to guide us out of this base while we protect you." He walked to one side to lean against the rocked wall next to the forcefield.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #32 – February 26, 2020, 03:42:23 PM

[ Otheusz | Grey Scars Base | Ruined Former City | Aldea ] @Numen @fiendfall @Sqweloookle

The Ornaran felt his whole body fluctuate at the behest of several, uncomfortable, waves of emotion… The cells were cold, damp and hard to breath in, yet despite the chill lingering on his jacket, the boy felt uncomfortably warm. He absentmindedly shifted his weight from side to side, his fingers pawing at his own clammy palms and his mouth swallowing around a spoonful of sand. The feeling was both familiar and foreign, as though he were under attack, surrounded by enemies all searching for a weakness to exploit, but his strength and adrenaline had never kicked in... He blinked hard as he tried to grasp at his focus, his remaining cruelty beat into him by his Queen and her minions unspooling like a ball of tumbling yarn…

He wanted to fight back, to shout and lash out. But more than that was the instinct to hide, to run and clamp his hands over his ears in order to shut out the torment of the words thundering into his skull.

The three men in the cells surrounding him all spoke at once, overlapping with softer tones that weren’t bristling with the harshness he was used to. He disliked soft tones, they set him on edge; it felt like a trick, a harbinger of cruelty... Something set up to later be used to mock the boy; the words of the men reaching his ears and telling him darkly secret little things that he knew couldn’t be real.

They wanted his help, they wanted him to set them free…

“...” Otheusz opened his mouth to speak, his eyes burrowing into the one he believed was called Seren, brimmed with equal amounts of mistrust and doubt, before his gaze fell flat and his mouth drew shut once again. They wanted him to set them free, and in return, they would protect him… Starfleet, would protect him…

It was a lie, it had to be…

“Queen…” He began to rebuke their offer, but stopped his speech mid word, hanging on their half promise, and for a moment, wondering if what they said was real… It brought back long dormant memories of Ornara, overhearing the adults of his settlement arguing about whether the Federation Starship Enterprise had saved them or condemned them. He’d been too young to form a real opinion back then, and as he’d grown older, he’d had other worries to occupy himself with.

Since being picked up by the Scars, he’d heard the words Starfleet and Federation be uttered from time to time, but he’d never been blessed with learning the context of their use. Their relevance as an organisation had never found reason to intersect with his life as a pirate lacky operating in fringe space and obsolete planetary systems, which made it all the less necessary for him to formulate an opinion.

He didn’t know if they were liars or saviours… Whether they had intentionally doomed the Ornaran race or whether they’d saved the race from permanent servitude… Whether they would truly protect him, or whether they would use him like the Queen…

“Owh-ta here…” Otheusz slowly confirmed, shifting his gaze up from the grimy floor and onto the face of the man with the long hair and the metal ear… “W-wat I… W-ant.” He nodded slowly, fearfully… He wondered if he was making a choice that would make his life even worse, a trick that would leave him at the mercy of his Queen for an act of disobedience beyond anything he’d ever considered before…

Otheusz had always been loyal, he’d always done as he’d been asked and remained stoically silent when he’d been mocked for it… He hated his life, but he was safe. He was good at what he did…

Would Starfleet prove to be crueler? More dangerous?

“No…” Otheusz muttered to himself, suddenly overflown with doubt as he realised that the decision he had just made could prove to make his life so much worse. Change was bad. It always had been for him. Moving from the settlement to the city slums, from the city slums to the munitions factories, from the factories to an ordnanceman in the military, ordnanceman to slave, slave to pirate…

“No… Ch-ange…” He whispered aloud, scrunching his fists all the tighter in attempt to settle his trembling… “Ch-ange b-bad…Queen h-hur-ts, F-fed-rer-ray-sh-on k-kill O-ornarans… S-save Ornarans t-too.” He mumbled his words, unsure himself whether he wanted the prisoners to answer him or whether he only wanted to answer himself. “Queen c-catch, Queen h-h-h… Pu-nush.” He stumbled on his words as he tried to form sentences with words he only half understood himself. He lumped words together and jabbed a trembling hand into his sternum when he spoke of himself, and poked it towards the others when he meant to gesture to them.

He thought of what she’d do if she caught him… He thought of what she’d do even if she didn’t…

He pictured the sharp water on his skin, the strong smelling bubbles that burned at him. He thought of the fragrant vapours that scolded his eyes and nose, and the way they dragged him through the halls without his clothes, surrounded by cold and turning his skin into mountains. The thought of kneeling at the foot of her, hearing her noises and directions, her taunts and jibes. Sometimes she had a woman with green skin accompanying her and he was to touch her too…

His fingers laced into his mangy hair and interlaced themselves with the thick grimy strands. He hunched himself and roared through his teeth.

Otheusz had never been given such a promise of escape, it had only ever been confirmation that such actions would be futile. The promise from the men before him was the first to make such thoughts of change seep into his head… The promises were poison to his resolve, decaying his staunch endurance…

Making him realise that truly anywhere else, would be better than where he was...

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #33 – March 10, 2020, 11:13:39 AM

[ Avi ] Attn: @Numen @Sqweloookle @TWilkins

For someone what clearly struggled with speakin' as much as Corpse Kid, the fella sure was chatty now he'd gotten goin'. Mumblin' somethin' to hisself — don't look at Avi, ask the fuckin' Pirate Whisperer over there — all sad an' confused.

Hey, weren't hardly blamin' him. Nor disappointed neither, 'cause so long as the kid was confused he weren't tryna have 'em killed, meant he got somethin' t'be confused about. Just hoped it was over the choice they was offerin' him, an' not that he just didn't understand a lick of what they was sayin'. Difficult t'tell, honestly.

Was a history here, with the kid an' Starfleet, but fuck him 'f he got a single bloody clue what that could be. Bloke didn't look old enough t'have a history with no one, but then again could always be his folk aged slow or somethin'. Looked Human enough — or Aldean maybe — but that didn't mean shit. Avi looked Human to folks what didn't know what they was lookin' at, so.

Couldn't rightly tell yous which ways Corpse Kid was swingin'. Looked t'be pretty much their only bloody hope of gettin' outta hear sneaky-like. Wait long enough an' the Theurgy might decide t'come lookin' — or might not, prob'ly shouldn't all told, not like any of them here was that useful or nothin' — an' if they did then they was gonna have a whole lot more pirates what knew Feds was in the area. An' pirates weren't 'xactly on speakin' terms with Fed brass, but news got around, an' there was still a pretty good fuckin' chance someone in Intel was bugged.

Don't fuckin' start. Was gonna go all the way off his damn head if he did. Bigger problems right now.

Corpse Kid. Mumblin' away. But had said somethin' what sounded halfway like an echo of what Avi'd said, 'outta here', an' then somethin' else all quiet an' confusin' an' mate he just didn't catch it alright ask Spork if you so desperate.

Still. Looked hopeful, kinda?

'That's it, kiddo,' he said, gentle an' slow. 'We can protect you.' Hoped to buggery that was true. Fuckin' please let that be true. Was gonna have to vandalise all his fuckin' mirrors otherwise.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #34 – March 13, 2020, 04:58:56 PM

[ Otheusz | Grey Scars Base | Ruined Former City | Aldea ] @fiendfall @Numen @Sqweloookle

The one with the long hair and the metal ear, Av-ee, was the one who interrupted his maelstrom of inner turmoil, cut through the chaos of the Ornaran’s messy head with slow and gentle words of reassurance, a tone that Otheusz barely recalled from years prior to the start of his misfortune. ‘We can protect you.’ Those were Av-ee’s words, the ones that Otheusz clung to the most, quietly sniffing at his own distress and wiping his nose against his arm.

He didn’t deserve their help. He knew that. The Queen had told him plenty of times how useless he was, how meaningless everything he did would be. He understood that it was true… Sometimes, Otheusz didn’t believe her; days where he saved the rest of the gang and got to electrocute Klingon warriors, or when he beat someone else in a fight that ended with one of his daggers in their chest… Even days where he simply worked with one of their fighters, calibrated their torpedoes to a higher yield, unboxed and tinkered with a new cache of explosives, recalibrated their missile salvos… Did something that he knew made a difference for the Grey Scars...

But then other days were more harrowing, days that, for a multitude of reasons, made it so much harder for Otheusz to value himself. Days where he made mistakes and got things wrong, when the other Pirates laughed at him or mocked him with their alien words. When he was forced to do things that he didn’t want to do… ‘Entertaining’ his Queen and her guests in her parlour…

Those were days when he curled up in the driest corner of the damp ruin he slept in, and screamed inside the confines of his own broken little mind.The times he tried to sleep after he’d killed someone whom he hadn’t wanted to, someone who wasn’t a threat or a problem, but whom the Queen wanted him to kill. The nights he spent begging more than anything to have a chance to get away from her...

And now the opportunity was right in front of him. The opportunity to escape from her and get away from everything that he hated about being alive… The chance to start again a third time... One more chance to have a life that would be worth something...

The Ornaran didn’t know the Federationers, and certainly couldn’t just trust them to help him… He glanced around at the four of them, Av-ee and Seren in one of the cells, and the large unconscious Klingon and Mate in the other… They could betray him, he knew that…

But he also knew that he couldn't trust the Queen either, that she would betray him given the chance… He knew that she didn’t deserve his loyalty, and any debt he owed her for her saving his life was paid off long ago… He suffered through whatever she demanded as her plaything, and reaped nothing but further suffering in exchange for his loyalty and service…

Enough, was enough.

He swallowed around a lump in his throat, ‘yes’ an easy word that was too far away for his tongue to catch.

Instead, he shakily bowed his head, and delivered three separate nods.

He would help them escape.

He sniffed once more, cuffing at his nose and blinking the wetness away from his vision, moving his hand up to scrape through his knotted hair with a deep, slow breath. He took one last glance over at the prisoners whom he was helping, who would help him in exchange... With a second inhale, the boy shakily padded over to the force-field control distributor that was set into the wall next to the entrance to the chamber, laying his hand flush against the module and exhaling slowly.

He didn’t know how to disable the forcefield with presses, but he knew that it was old enough that a burst of bioelectric energy would be enough to short circuit the entire system. Most of the technology that the ‘Scars used was the same; old, salvaged, junk. He expected that blowing it up would probably set off a couple of alarms too, but the Federations would help him deal with that… He also knew that it was going to hurt him a lot, the electrical backlash that would burn his nerves and boil his skin…

But if they followed through on their promise, it would be okay… Worth the pain to get away from the Queen...

So the boy grit his teeth, steadily let the energy billow out from his palm, feeling the cool metal crackle and spark under his skin as the light from the energy cast a firework of shadows across the dinge of the room.

What followed, was a loud fizzling noise, accompanied by a shattering pop and an energetic fwoosh. The console smoldered and smoked in the aftermath, and the forcefields flickered out of existence almost immediately. A plume of smoke climbed up towards the ceiling of the room and stung the air with the cloy of soot and burn. Otheusz’s choked yowl of hurt squeaked out of his mouth, sending the Ornaran backwards and onto a sprawl across the grimy floor, clutching at his hand, hissing like a beast.

And then, it was all drowned out, the chamber flooding through with the sound of shrill alarms echoing out from the rest of the base...

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #35 – March 15, 2020, 02:08:38 PM

[ LT. JG Adam Kingston | Dirty Cell: Unknown Location | Aldea Prime ] Attn: @fiendfall @Numen @TWilkins

"Oh shit!" Adam exclaimed as he watched the force fields fizz out of existence but then he snapped to Otheusz on the floor who had howled in pain, he was holding his hand and hissing. Adam rushed over to the young man and gently pulled the Ornaran back onto his feet. "Are you okay?" He asked though he glanced at the entrance to check if anyone had come yet.

So far no one had come to investigate the alarm but soon will. "Oth, can I call you Oth?" Adam asked with a smile as he gently held the young man in place to see if he was able to stand on his own. Adam was in a defensive stance just in case the Ornaran decided to attack him. "We need to leave now, can you guide us out and take us to our gear as well on the way?" Adam spoke calmly so Otheusz can process each word he said.

Adam turned to the other cell. "Seren, can you assist me with our sleeping friend?" He asked as Vulcan strength would be most helpful for they had to move quickly once their Ornaran savour started leading them through the Pirate’s base.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #36 – March 29, 2020, 11:57:33 PM

att: @TWilkins @fiendfall@Sqweloookle

The force fields that held the captives in place flickered before they disappeared, freeing the captives. Mr. Kingston, for the first time since they all woke up in those cells, displayed a hint of humanity and hovered over the recumbent Ornaran, ostensibly concerned about his physical condition.

Soon Seren approached the two men and knelt down to observe the boy's status. Obviously whatever he had done to overload the force fields and allow them to escape had pushed his strength to the limit and damaged him in some way. Seren was not a doctor, but his training at the Academy allowed him to ascertain that his condition wasn't critical, although he would require some medical attention once they arrived at some place more civilized that that Surak forgotten place of the galaxy. For the time being, the boy was unconscious, which was of no help to them when the fall of the energy barrier had triggered the sounding of every alarm in the building.

"I can indeed carry the lad," Seren answered to the security officer.The Vulcan hesitated for a second, then he tugged the frayed edge of his sleeves to cover his hands, and took Otheuz in his arms.

Seren certainly wasn't a big man, not by humanoid standards, much less by Vulcan standards. But he was still five times stronger than a human of his height and constitution. The young Ornaran weighed hardly nothing in his arms, small and frail as a wounded little bird.

For a brief second, the stern, the vulcan imperturbable expression relaxed slightly, displaying the faintest expression of concern. It was something that lasted less than a blink, however, and he immediately turned to address his former cellmate, concealing that microexpression. "Lead the way. I think the exit is... oh". That was certainly an unsurprising development and, still, surprise cut Seren's words short.

Beyond where the risian stand were, at the far end of the dark corrido that led to the cells, five heavily armed pirates. And they were running toward the starfleeters resolved to take them down again.

OOC: I want to apologize for the short and poor quality of this post, and, especially, for the long time it has taken me to write it. Life is being a tsunami lately that is weighing me down badly and my inspiration pond is almost completely dry. I hope that practicing and writing will bring back some quality back into my writing and that you'll be able to forgive me for this decrease in quality.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #37 – March 30, 2020, 05:15:20 PM

[ Avi ] Attn: @TWilkins @Numen @Sqweloookle

So one minute Corpse Kid was standin' there all sniffles an' sadness, not a clue as to which way he was gonna swing, t'wards their escape or their murder, an' then next minute all fuckin' hell breaks loose. The kid lyin' on the ground all sad-like, forcefields dead an' smokin', an' somethin' hummin' in the background what he was assumin' was some kinda alarm.

Arright. Looks like we bustin' this popsicle stand.

Matey Boy went t'check on Corpse Kid -- aww shucks didn't know you cared -- meanwhile Avi watches 'em both just in case the kid decided t'start gettin' handsy with 'em or somethin'. Didn't seem like he was jonesin' t'go for round two -- didn't seem like he was up to much more'n dribblin' on hisself, truth be -- so left 'em to it. Still had fuckin' Erev t'worry about.

Crossed t'the other cell, where the massive fucker was still lyin' out cold. Bloody hell. Don't look t'Avi t'carry this brick shithouse of a bloke, he'd break his damn back.

Wakey-wakey. Tried an old medical technique what he'd learnt in the Academy, called 'slap 'em in the face'. Fella had only been stunned same as the rest of 'em, weren't hardly nothin' special, no reason t'go doin' a sleepin' beauty routine. Up an' at 'em, big guy.

Erev just snored louder. Motherfucker.

Fine. Looks like it's broken back o'clock.

Gave it a go at least, tryna heave Erev up into somethin' remotely carryable, but Christmas. Felt like this fella had a stomach full'a rocks. Turned t'the others -- Spork was a fuckin' Vulcan weren't he, bloke could carry just about anythin'-- just in time t'see the guy freeze up lookin' back the other way. What the--

For fuck's sake. There's only five bloody dickheads down the other end'a the corridor. Alarms, huh? Damn snitches.

First thought is t'tell the others t'get t'safety while he holds these idiots up. 'Cept that's stupid, 'cause it's five on one and he ain't got dick t'defend hisself with, so all the hold up he'd be is the two extra seconds it'd take 'em to shoot him in the face an' step over his body. There's dyin' in a blaze of glory an' then there's dyin' from bein' an idiot, an' while there ain't never been much doubt which one'll get him, he ain't had a drink in a good few hours an' dyin' stupid and sober is just too much, even for him.

Gave Erev a shake in frustration. Fuckin' need you awake now, dickhead, needed you last week but now'll do, wake up, come on now!

Bloke groaned. Well, it ain't a snore. Avi kept goin.

Took a bit of a bloody song an' dance t'rouse the fella, but got there eventually, Erev squintin' and rubbing his head like it was fit t'burst -- an' yeah, prob'ly was.

'Welcome back,' said. 'Could use a hand.'

One'a the pirates spots 'em, shouts somethin' Avi loses in the mess but can guess is prob'ly along the lines'a 'oh look some escapees let's put a stop to that eh lads', an' then they're leggin' it over here all ready t'go. Brilliant.

Gave Erev a once-over. Yeah, bloke was standin' by hisself, weren't gonna win any awards for alertness or nothin' but could prob'ly still throw a punch. Better'n gettin these other lot involved, anyways. An' two on five weren't nearly so bad, 'specially when the corridor was so narrow the pirates could only really come at 'em two at a time or risk shootin' their mates. Was almost not completely fuckin' suicidal. He'd take those odds.

Lookin' at Spork. 'Get our shit. We'll catch up.' Prob'ly. Give it a go, leastways.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #38 – April 16, 2020, 06:24:17 PM

[ Otheusz | Grey Scars Base | Ruined Former City | Aldea ] @fiendfall @Numen @Sqweloookle

Othuesz’ entire body ached an extraordinary amount, but it was his numbly throbbing hand that reached the epitome of excruciation, boiling up with pain as though it had been clamped in a vice for a few hours longer than was ideal. But he was awake, conscious, enough so that he was aware of being aided up to his feet by Seren, but not so much as to understand why Mate and Avi were suddenly both talking about excrement…

But he was lucid enough that when a voice called, echoing from down the corridor that he’d arrived from, and voices echoing down dark corridors were scarcely a good thing. The Ornaran was actually somewhat surprised that the Queen had men responding to the alarm so promptly. Usually after a successful mission, the majority of their party spent the evening drinking various colours of burning fluid, becoming less coordinated with each sip and ending the night by falling over their own feet…

At least, Otheusz never saw them do any more than that; the Queen would never fail to call upon him for her own victory celebration...

But in this case, the Ornaran recognized that he had severely underestimated the severity of this particular haul… If the Queen had put him on guard duty rather than summoning him to her chambers, and not allowed her crew to drink themselves into a stupor, it meant that these Starfleet prisoners were either extremely valuable, or unbelievably dangerous to her business...

Narrowing his eyes and trying to get a good fix of exactly who had arrived to stop their escape attempt, Otheusz entertained the idea of shocking the entire group of them. He couldn't tell who was at the back, but the two leading the charge were not good in close combat. The boy pictured it in his head, almost drew his knives in preparation, but reluctantly dismissed the idea before it got into motion. In his current condition, injured, winded, and absent of any bioelectric charge, he wasn’t winning that fight…

He'd kill a few. But he wouldn't win.

So instead, he considered the other option they had to survive the assault.

Using Seren’s body as a crutch to steady himself, he straightened up, before staggering back past the other four males and into the back part of the cells. He limped slightly from where his ankle had taken the brunt of his fall, and shoved the fabric covering aside, recoiling slightly from the potency of the next room’s aroma. He wrinkled his nose before pressing forwards into the somehow filthier row of holding cages and towards the final cloth awning covering a doorway.

The corridor lined with cells, or ‘popsicle’, the proper word for it, as Otheusz had been taught during his earlier eavesdropping, only had one way in or out. The way out was, of course, the way that five of the Queen’s men were blocking. It made sense, Otheusz supposed, to better hinder escape attempts like the one he was facilitating. But it was certainly inconvenient. He scowled somewhat at the thought.

Still, the Ornaran was nothing if not persistent, as proven when he had spent the better part of three days pursuing a stray feline around the facility the previous winter. It was a small creature, but very fluffy. His search had led him to the very end of the popsicles, where the creature had eluded him by escaping through a small hole in the floor that Otheusz couldn’t fit more than his head into. And even doing that had made him very dizzy.

But he’d happened upon an auto-sledge and he’d broken up the masonry surrounding the escape hole, and dropped himself into the tunnel below. It was wet, slimy, and putrid, so much so that he’d decided that the fluffy cat had not been worth it, and would have abandoned his task. Yet, in his haste, he hadn't considered the reality of the climb back up to the popsicles being impossible, and when he tried to scramble up the slime and mold slathered sides, he simply slid straight back down without a fight, and landed arse-first in the ankle-deep 'water' below.

So he’d continued down the tunnel, right down to where it opened up with a hole to the outside, on the precipice of a trench that cut a line through the middle of the city and beyond, the bottom of which was littered with discarded bones and boats immersed in a few inches of actual water. From that exit, it was only a short climb up to where their fighter bay was located. He’d done it before. It was easy. Last time, he had needed to crawl through a fair amount of broken glass and nettles to get to the hole in the wall unnoticed, but it was still easy… Easy enough...

With that in mind, he approached the final room in the popsicles, immediately making his way over to the totally inconspicuous terracotta cauldron that was sat in the middle of the room. After his cat chase, he’d returned to the room and positioned the bowl neatly over the whole he’d made in the floor, in an effort to avoid getting in trouble for tearing their base apart…

Otheusz reached the cauldron with a strained groan, putting all of his weight against the exceedingly heavy pot and struggling to get any traction with his boots against the mold carpeted floor. He managed to get some movement, after almost falling and breaking his neck tripping on a limescale encrusted piece of metal, and before long there was enough space underneath the cauldron to fit through, to clamber down into the foetid tunnel and, with any luck, avoid their pursuers. The cat had escaped from him this way, perhaps this time, he would be the cat.

He turned without hesitation, his hands pressing flush against the rancid, slimy floor, mold pressing into his hand wound and making him hiss like a viper. Yet Otheusz was accustomed to pain enough that he could largely ignore the burn for a moment, instead affording himself a quick glance up to check that the others were aware of his intention, the boy lowered himself down until he was hanging into the hole in the floor.

Pressing his eyes closed and trying to breath mainly through his mouth, his fingers released, and he dropped into the darkness.

The sound that echoed back up, was an extraordinarily uninviting splash.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #39 – April 28, 2020, 12:31:51 PM

[ Lieutenant JG Adam Kingston | Unknown Location | Aldea Prime ] Attn: @TWilkins @Numen @fiendfall

"Take that!" Adam exclaimed. The security officer had thrown many large rocks that was on the floor. He followed Otheusz down the tunnel away from where there were sounds of their captors coming from.

He checked behind him for pursuit and there didn't seem to be so he watched where the young man was going and if they had company approaching from ahead of them. Adam hoped the others got out, though now they had been separated. It was going to be hard to escape now if they weren’t together.

Perhaps Otheusz and he could hide and wait for them, Adam was positive that the young Ornaran knew that if not together they stood a low chance of not getting recaptured. Safety in numbers and so on.

Adam was about to ask for a hiding spot when Otheusz jumped down into a hole. "Ah the old sewer trick." He commented as he made a quick glance in each direction he could then lowered himself into the hole. He had one hand on the edge so he could reduce the distance, for safety. A tight squeeze but he sucked it in and he landed in a smelly liquid after letting go of the cover. "Yup. Sewer for sure trick." Adam said before he turned to Otheusz. "We can’t leave yet, we have to hide and meet up with the others." Adam knew someone of the Ornaran’s size would be able to find good places to go to when he wanted to not be found.

He wished he had a wrist torch for not much light was down here. He gestured around the young Otheusz. "Where to Otheusz to get out." Adam kind of extended the u sound a little too long by an extra second and hoped his smile was visible with what light was down here.

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #40 – May 01, 2020, 07:52:13 PM

[ Avi ] Attn: @TWilkins @Numen @Sqweloookle

Was right glad when none'a the others tried t'go arguin' or nothin', just headed on out. Corridor was cramped enough as it was without any of 'em tryna play heroes. Matey Boy did try lobbin' a few stones, sent Avi duckin' t'avoid gettin' hit in the back'a the head -- oi, watch it mate -- 'cept that didn't last long, they was turnin' t'leave soon enough.

Arright. Least some of 'em were gettin' out.

Lookin' at Erev all sideways. 'How you wanna do this?'

'F the bloke answered, Avi didn't catch it. Pirate lot was upon 'em, firin' off a couple'a blasts afore realisin' they was like t'shoot their mates as them, Erev rushin' in an' givin' 'em a good old whackin' for their trouble. Good a plan as any. Followed suit.

Kinda 'xpectin' t'get murdered immediately, 'cept it ain't happenin' so arright, go with it. Blokes weren't wantin' t'go hand-t'-hand, clearly, gives 'em a second t'get a punch in afore them pirate lot are ready. Recover quick enough, though, an' then it's a bloody scrum. Don't rightly know how they didn't end up shot straight out the gate. Erev must'a knocked out his lad, bumrushin' the next bloke, catchin' him off-guard. Avi slightly slower -- don't say nothin', he ain't a fuckin' mountain man, havin' a bloody wrestle over here. Manages t'get the bloke's weapon off of him, only gets absolutely smashed in the back'a the head immediately fuckin' afterwards -- bloke's mate come t'play, fuckin' fantastic.

Spends the next few minutes havin' an absolutely lovely time with his new mates, great fun all round, no he didn't need his fuckin' teeth have at it lads.

It's Erev, half fuckin' dead, what comes t'the rescue. Makes it look bloody easy an' all. Regular knight in shinin' armour ain't he? Thanks.

Took a moment t'get his breath back. Checked he still had a nose. Yeah, just about. Ribs were absolute wank, though. Only just recovered from the last fuckin' time. Least Mrs Theurgy oughta have a decent doc's office, 'f they made it that far. An' if they didn't, guess he wouldn't need ribs after all. Win-win.

Right. Where'd the others get to? An' why was Erev standin' like that?

'You alright over there mate?' Clearly fuckin' wasn't. Pale an' all. He take another shot to him? Christmas. Only so far your Klingon blood'll get you, mate, can't go spongin' up that shit every five minutes.

Grabbed a couple'a weapons off the floor, afore turnin' back t'Erev. Yeah, bloke looked real peaky. 'Arright, come on then, let's get movin'. Lean on me if you gotta, that's it big boy. Figure them lot went through here, don't wanna get left behind yeah?' They was gonna be a slow-moving vehicle, absolutely fucked if anyone else came at 'em. Christmas.

Made their ways into the next room, room which had a big fuckoff hole in the middle, didn't gotta be a fuckin' detective t'figure out where them lot had prob'ly gone. Messy, though, ain't gonna be able t'close it off after 'em or nothin', be watchin' their fuckin' backs all the way. An' who knew where it'd spit 'em out?

Whatever. In for a penny.

Dropped down, splashin' garbage water all up his legs, lovely. Erev slower, but managed t'get down, Avi on hand t'catch him or whatever. Then they was both down in this smelly shit tunnel. Tunnel goin' two ways. Fuckin'-- Christmas. Nothin' weren't ever easy, huh?

'Any clue which way they went?' asked Erev. Bloke mumbled somethin', too dark t'hear. Ears must'a been whacked an' all. Just peachy. 'Gimme that again?'

Erev just kinda nodded in a direction. Sure, seemed as good as any. Why not? They set off, slow as fuck, stumblin' around in the dark water, Erev leanin' more an' more heavily as they went. Didn't have all that long afore the bloke started passin' out or somethin', an' there weren't no way Avi was gonna be able t'carry him if that happened.

Eventually started gettin' lighter; thought he was goin' mad at first, 'cept nah was just them comin' up on the end, thank fuck. Rounded a corner an' suddenly there it was, plain as, some grating thing in the wall an' the others all stood around it, havin' a chat, waitin' for 'em, who knew.

Bloody hell. They'd only gone an' done it.

Gave 'em all a painful grin, Erev slumped over his damn shoulder. Right pair they made. ''Sup lads. Nice moves. Anyone know where to next or we wingin' this?'

Re: Day 10 [2034 hrs.] Lads Night Out

Reply #41 – June 01, 2020, 07:43:15 PM

[ Otheusz | Somewhere off of the ground ]

The Ornaran felt somewhat disjointed with the reality around him, both as a result of sheer disbelief, as well as the blow he had taken to his head. He timidly moved his hand up to push some sticky hair from his face, his dirty fingers greeted with a warm slickness that he tried his best to ignore as he moved the line of hair from his vision.

It flopped back down anyway.

He’d fared better than the white-haired Klingon however, who’d taken a disrupter shot to the back and crumpled to the ground with smoke rising from the singe-marks in the back of his robes. Apparently, he was still alive. Otheusz was doubtful, but then again, he’d seen Klingons take a lot of fire before going down… Otheusz stared down at the white haired man for a moment, contemplating whether he would have survived the same shot...

Luckily for him, Otheusz’ own head wound was nothing so dramatic. He’d slammed the control button to close the entry ramp to their shuttle before Seren had even reached the cockpit, but it was not a well maintained vehicle… It had no armaments, and its systems were limited. But it was fast… They’d captured it from some smugglers not two months back, and it had been a nightmare of a task to catch up to them. Despite what Otheusz considered to be obvious value, the Queen didn’t want a vehicle without guns, and so it had been gathering dust ever since…

The Ornaran had remained by the entry point, one hand on his knife and one hand against the bulkhead to brace himself if their pursuers tried to open it from the outside. Lots of commotion occured behind him, but he ignored it all; he had to. They spoke too fast and too overlapped for him to keep note… So he kept his eyes affixed through the narrow slit of glass in the door that allowed him to see through, despite the grime.

It was painful for the boy to watch his two former abusers approach their vehicle, the metal of the nifty little craft enough to fend off the small arms fire of their disruptors, but most likely not the high-intensity of the plasma torch that one of the men was approaching with… Otheusz gritted his teeth, recognising the man to be one of the Queen’s favoured captains, one who had always been somewhat disparaging of the Ornaran, and now seemed moderately gleeful at being proved right… Otheusz contemplated his choices, and then felt his stomach lurch cripple his gut as an almighty agony thundered directly into his face…

In all, Otheusz considered it a small disappointment, that he didn’t get to see the man who had brought him so many years of torment get imolated by the craft’s engines… But that was in hindsight. In reality, Otheusz was more concerned about the way the craft buckled under him and flung his body against the door with the inertia… The blow winded the boy, and no sooner had his entire body crunched into the metal, was his body limply scrambling down into one of the corner walls, his head clouting loudly against a protrusion in the bulkhead and immediately beginning to dribble with blood.

Otheusz’ eyes felt blurry and his whole head grew dizzy, but he was still lucid enough to hear Avi’s voice rippling through the noise of the shuttle and the ringing in his ears, talking about christmas and blood and gizmos… He was lucid enough to watch the long-haired metal-eared man slam his hand into a button on the dashboard and immediately Otheusz felt the ship’s internal inertia ease, no longer pinning him into the corner as the ship rose, but allowing him to limply sink into his seat.

The boy was horrified for the entire experience. He was certain that if they weren’t shot down by pursuing ships they would be killed by the driving of their pilot. First, the shuttle grazed across the wall of the atrium, the sound of metal scraping masonry drilling into Otheusz’ skull like barbed nails being beaten into him. Then the pointy-eared-pilot had flown not through the hole in the roof, but through an intact pane of glass.

The boy had never greatly enjoyed space, not since he’d been adrift so many years ago, but worse was the descent and ascent into an atmosphere. The noise grew like a crescendo in the dark, the air bumped around them like islands in the clouds, every jolt was loud, like a disruptor to the engine. He hated it… So he kept his eyes somewhat clamped shut, and waited for an outcome.

And he got one.

Which is how the Ornaran ended the hellish flight, sat tightly on the floor of the shuttle, brushing blood drenched hair from his eyes, watching fearfully as the shuttle door slowly descended down. As it eeked open, bright, clean light spilled into the dark of the stuffy shuttle, voices reached his ears, the shoulders of his new companions seemed to relax and the atmosphere became a pleasantness that he had not experienced for many years…

Apparently, they were safe.

They, meaning the Starfleeters.

Otheusz on the other hand, had no idea whether he was now safe, or had just wandered into a different flavour of danger… The thought and reality both gave him little comfort. Instead, he put a tentative hand on the handle of his knife...

And waited.

- Fin