The /other/ cat returns
Posted: Tue Sep 29, 2009 11:38 am
<camera view: Deep space, a planet in the middle distance is partially eclipsing the solitary star of the system. Mid-screen text reads "Witchspace Beacon inbound to Reidquat". The camera view sweeps around to the Witchspace Beacon itself>
A jump cloud blossoms into life like the silent blue-tinted explosion of a orchid. The ship that coalesces from the depths of Hyperspace looks like a Python, except it's horrifically beaten-up appearance. Whole sections of the hull are missing, yawning gulfs of open space can be seen through the interior of the vessel. Running lights flicker fitfully along the exterior and the engines periodically gout large quantities of unstable plasma in the ship's wake. The remaining outer panels are criss-crossed by multiple high-yield energy weapon strikes and micro-meteorite impacts. One solitary panel bears an ident plate, almost completely obscured by carbonised waste and melted hull panel. It reads "DP-099 'The Dubious Profit'". Another panel near the back has a hastily-created message made by means of a plasma cutter "Running in - Please overtake"
<camera view: Interior, ship's cockpit.>
The interior of the cockpit is a scene from a disaster movie. Roof panels are scattered over the floor and bundles of blackened and burning cables hang down like high-tech jungle vines. The air is thick with clouds of acrid, white smoke. The cockpit is bathed in crimson from the emergency lighting rigs welded to the walls and what was once an aert klaxon has been converted to a humourous "SQUONK! SQUONK! SQUONK!" by a high velocity impact that damaged the speaker. Within the clouds, movement can just be discerned.
"Are we dead?", a voice, high and chittering asks.
"If we are, then I've obviously gone to Hell, because you're here, D'vlin.", a deep rumbling voice replied.
"Rus, I think we can all asume we're still alive. My back's certainly not going to let me die before it tells me just how bad it feels.", another voice chipped in, a smooth voice that should have belonged to a Tri-Vid star or even an intergalactic spy.
Instead it belonged to a small grey feline from Orrira, famed through all Eight Charts as the least liked and worst fated trader to ever ply the star lanes. Captain Hesperus waved the smoke out of his face, his pink nose wrinkling at the smell and tapped hopfully at the console in front of him. It responded with a negatory buzz and he summarily punched it. It bleeped and lights flickered across it.
"Looks like we've returned to Real Space, after all. That's a late watch you owe me, D'vlin.", Hesperus smiled, pausing to suck at his barked knuckles.
A tubby ginger feline picked himself up from the floor where he had thrown himself prior to their arrival in Reidquat and inspected the bundle of wrappers at his feet. Quick as a flash he extracted a much thumbed, unopened wrapper and wrenched it open. The chewy-chocolatey contents were rapidly consumed to the sounds of growling and whimpering.
"Stepan, once you've finished your 'last supper', would you mind figuring out where we are? The navi-comp keeps saying we are in Reidquat. And that, all things considered, would be a problem."
The ginger tom nodded and waddled over to the flight systems. He thumbed through the exterior view cameras, his eyes fixing on the established spatial 'landmarks' that the early astro-mariners had used to navigate and stood thoughtfully for a minute. he smiled and nodded sagely.
"Yep, yep, yep. Definately.", he said.
"Definately, what?"
"Yes, it's definately Reidquat.", the big feline smiled cheerfully.
At that moment, the threat alert siren started "SQUONK"-ing as a triangle of red blips appeared on the cracked scanner screen.
Hesperus sighed as he tried to muster something approximating to combat readiness from his ship's ruined systems.
"Looks like my luck's back to normal."
Captain Hesperus
A jump cloud blossoms into life like the silent blue-tinted explosion of a orchid. The ship that coalesces from the depths of Hyperspace looks like a Python, except it's horrifically beaten-up appearance. Whole sections of the hull are missing, yawning gulfs of open space can be seen through the interior of the vessel. Running lights flicker fitfully along the exterior and the engines periodically gout large quantities of unstable plasma in the ship's wake. The remaining outer panels are criss-crossed by multiple high-yield energy weapon strikes and micro-meteorite impacts. One solitary panel bears an ident plate, almost completely obscured by carbonised waste and melted hull panel. It reads "DP-099 'The Dubious Profit'". Another panel near the back has a hastily-created message made by means of a plasma cutter "Running in - Please overtake"
<camera view: Interior, ship's cockpit.>
The interior of the cockpit is a scene from a disaster movie. Roof panels are scattered over the floor and bundles of blackened and burning cables hang down like high-tech jungle vines. The air is thick with clouds of acrid, white smoke. The cockpit is bathed in crimson from the emergency lighting rigs welded to the walls and what was once an aert klaxon has been converted to a humourous "SQUONK! SQUONK! SQUONK!" by a high velocity impact that damaged the speaker. Within the clouds, movement can just be discerned.
"Are we dead?", a voice, high and chittering asks.
"If we are, then I've obviously gone to Hell, because you're here, D'vlin.", a deep rumbling voice replied.
"Rus, I think we can all asume we're still alive. My back's certainly not going to let me die before it tells me just how bad it feels.", another voice chipped in, a smooth voice that should have belonged to a Tri-Vid star or even an intergalactic spy.
Instead it belonged to a small grey feline from Orrira, famed through all Eight Charts as the least liked and worst fated trader to ever ply the star lanes. Captain Hesperus waved the smoke out of his face, his pink nose wrinkling at the smell and tapped hopfully at the console in front of him. It responded with a negatory buzz and he summarily punched it. It bleeped and lights flickered across it.
"Looks like we've returned to Real Space, after all. That's a late watch you owe me, D'vlin.", Hesperus smiled, pausing to suck at his barked knuckles.
A tubby ginger feline picked himself up from the floor where he had thrown himself prior to their arrival in Reidquat and inspected the bundle of wrappers at his feet. Quick as a flash he extracted a much thumbed, unopened wrapper and wrenched it open. The chewy-chocolatey contents were rapidly consumed to the sounds of growling and whimpering.
"Stepan, once you've finished your 'last supper', would you mind figuring out where we are? The navi-comp keeps saying we are in Reidquat. And that, all things considered, would be a problem."
The ginger tom nodded and waddled over to the flight systems. He thumbed through the exterior view cameras, his eyes fixing on the established spatial 'landmarks' that the early astro-mariners had used to navigate and stood thoughtfully for a minute. he smiled and nodded sagely.
"Yep, yep, yep. Definately.", he said.
"Definately, what?"
"Yes, it's definately Reidquat.", the big feline smiled cheerfully.
At that moment, the threat alert siren started "SQUONK"-ing as a triangle of red blips appeared on the cracked scanner screen.
Hesperus sighed as he tried to muster something approximating to combat readiness from his ship's ruined systems.
"Looks like my luck's back to normal."
Captain Hesperus
Welcome back.