Chapter 1: The Ship

[Basil_Bottletop]

With a few terse words in his general direction, Damir is able to surmise what is needed of him. He tugged at his tight-fitting oversuit as it stretched uncomfortably across his chest and shoulders. The fabric was forgiven, but only to a certain point and it was blatantly obvious no one on this ship had been expected to have such a physique. It was obvious to everyone but Damir.

 

"I handle the 'Patcher." He grunted in reply as he slipped through the door and hopefully toward the med bay with the instructions repeating over and over in his head. 

 

He arrived at the door in record time, assisted in part by the fact that he sprinted there to ensure he kept the instructions before they evaporated from his memory. Somewhere else -controlled by someone else- the right command was entered into the security system and the door released open. Damir took up most of the entryway and he carried a big menancing grin. Clean, balanced air slipping in alongside him.

 

"Come here, 'Patcher. Don't struggle." Were his only warnings before his meaty paws swarmed the medic who was trying to manage his mask, his tank, and the broken control panel for the door. 

[K6richar]

Lars briefly struggles but very quickly realizes escape is imposisble from this monster of a man.

"Who are you? How did you get here? You're killing them!" He rushed through everything that came to his head at that moment before composing himself a little.

"Listen, I need to fix the oxygen or ... oh what the hell, Feseki! What have you done now?" 

[Powderhorn]

New Pacifica, 1215, May 1st, Monday, 400 DA

     Regardless of what plans may be in place, it is clear to anyone looking at the videos and readouts that Lars is correct.  If action is not taken soon, the original crew will die.

 

[AbsentWizard]

Feseki was thankful that at least this crew did not need him telling them what to do every step of the way - not that he could, he didn't know anything about oxygen except that it was a thing you breathed and which Damir's hugs took out of you. 

"You," he points at Lars, "were supposed to have passed on this flight so that you could star in that vid-ad series by Oral Sensations." All that money and a little blackmail, to get Lars that role. All wasted. Ingrates.

"My big friend, whose name I certainly do not know, this is Lars. He's known to me, but he is not known to us." Feseki pointedly instructs Damir, "I will handle him. You must get the crew into the box, with the oxygen in it. Wear your mask." Feseki puts a hand on Lars, so that Damir can go off doing useful Damir things, like moving not-yet-bodies.

A wide, yet humorless smile spreads across Feseki's face for Lars' sake. In a completely different accent and cadence than he had been using with Belel and Damir, Feseki says to Lars, "You and I. We are all friends and reasonable here, yeah? Friends. We don't want trouble. You want to be on the crew so badly - congratulations. You're on the crew. My crew. We good?"

[K6richar]

"Oh wipe that stupid smile off your face, who would turn down a trip to orbit and beyond to be in a commercial? But, if it will save the crew I will join you. Of course if you get caught I was a hostage, not a willing participant."
"Now,  can you tell your friend to turn the atmosphere back to 75 kPa, they won't wake up but won't be dead if your giant takes a little too long."

[Chimi]

"I'm a scavenger pirate bitch, not a murderer." Belel grumps. She hasn't taken her eyes off her slab since she started messing with the oxygen, half the screen switching between the different cameras in the lounge, half with readouts and controls up. Still, she nudges the concentration up a few points...don't want to be giving anyone brain damage, and even if they start coming to, the Big Man can handle a couple disoriented, oxygen starved space cadets. "Keeping it between 78 and 81 kPa."

[Powderhorn]

New Pacifica, 1225, May 1st, Monday, 400 DA

     It doesn't take long for Damir to round up the crew.  Though groggy and not entirely with it, one does feebly protest as they're being picked up and carried to the bay for storage / jettison.  It only takes a few minutes, and suddenly - the vessel has been captured.

     With the first spaceship from New Pacifica also falling prey to the first pirates from New Pacifica, you have captives and an empty sky ahead of you.

     What now?

 

[Basil_Bottletop]

The task of wrangling up unconscious bodies and placing them in pre-arranged space casks seemed like a deliberately perfect job for Damir. His only flaw was that he sometimes forgot to be delicate with limbs as he shoved members of the original crew into their new homes. Those that denied his requests to succumb to the new arrangements did so with weak protests and low energy flailing of arms, both of which Damir ignored rather efficiently. 

 

When he was done, the broad-chested man was lathered with sweat. His body had taken a few minutes to get acclimated to the new pure-air environment, but when it did it had flourished. He felt like he could still go a few rounds if the opportunity arose. Instead, he grabbed one of the crates nearby and took a seat. His body heaved into relaxation with the same amount of effort he'd put into coercing the last crew member into place. 

 

He gave a final long side-eyed glance at the on-ship physician before getting up with a hefty sigh and prepping another crate for disposal, just in case. 

[AbsentWizard]

Feseki checks the time and, pleased with the rapid pace of the capture, attempts to key the intercom... which he does not recognize any of these controls thereof. How could he? The manuals were not obtainable in time.

"Belel, the inside-the-ship communications?" He waits to be shown, then actually keys the intercom.

"Hello everybody. The ground will begin to get worried, and maybe send some of those other spacecraft to investigate. Maybe send out bulletins to look for us. The window for us to safely drop off our guests is measured in hours, perhaps." He lets that soak in a little bit, then keys up again.

"The DSS Corporation high orbit cargo yard near L1 is staffed by diligent folks, with strong sense of morals and annual ethics training. We will go to there and... gently ... push our guests out on a course to meet these people. They will see a tumbling cargo crate and catch it with their tugs. It is simple. We will put the lights on the box to make sure that they are seen."

Feseki hangs up the microphone. "Belel, if you please. I must think about how to modify the disguise of the ship."

[Chimi]

"You had access to the same manuals as I did, boss," Belel points out, a little reprovingly, as she indicates the ship comms.

 

After Feseki is finished, Belel pauses in hooking her slate up to the ship's console, and looks at him a little worried. "Disguise? It's not like they can't count down on the ground, boss, if some unknown ship rolls up asking for resupply they're gonna twig it's us. Plus, y'know, who knows if there's some emergency transmitter they can activate or whatever. Drive signatures." The woman shrugs. "I figure our best bet is to refuge in audacity. Get out there and do something useful, and hope that we can make it looks easier to just let us do our thing than send marines in to take the ship back. Or, y'know, we actually go pirate and raid the other ships for air and food."

[Powderhorn]

New Pacifica, 1230, May 1st, Monday, 400 DA

    With Belel into the ship's systems, it's easy to access various displays around the ship, including sensors to see just what is going on outside.  There is the very simplistic mining and harvesting space station which remained in orbit around New Pacifica.  These jobs were highly skilled, and highly sought after, as it was the only way to go into space until this point.

     It doesn't look like much, but little blips show what appear to be electromagnetic signatures moving around the star system, and one appears to be on a course for the same space station.  Bringing up a stronger image, it appears to be an unmanned drone, bringing back a piece of debris that appears to be some sort of intelligently worked space ship material, but of a provenance that is not immediately discernible.  It has markings on it in a script that you may or may not recognizeA DC12 history check - but it is readily apparent that the heretofore unnamed vessel you are on is made from assembling such pieces.

     What you know for certain is that New Pacifica does not have any further vessels out here - they're all still on New Pacifica, as this was the day that the planet returned to the interstellar community.  What you also know is that New Pacifica has other ships - armed ships, that can be sent in chase.

 

[Basil_Bottletop]

With Feseki's words still bouncing around, Damir does his best to straighten up a bit in the cargo bay. The pods with the soon-to-be exited crew near the back exit, he could see a pattern emerging with the rest of the cargo. They'd packed things in here by way of time of need and not by similarity. By his quick observations, each cluster seemed to be pretty uniformed and standard affair. Leading him to believe that whoever came down here to extract the next round of supplies could do so by simply moving to the next cargo bay section. The idea had merit and Damir felt happy just noticing it himself.

The addition of the pods hadn't really messed any of that up and Damir was happy to leave it that way. They were out of the way and he wasn't afraid of a mishandle if they ended up needing to disembark the pods in a hurry. There wasn't a scenario where a crate full of dried foodstuffs would get mishandled as the pod with the former pilot, or vice versa.

Damir kept his observation to himself; not out of spite, but mostly because the only one still milling about near him was the 'Patcher. Damir eyed the man suspiciously every so often while moving about in the cargo bay. He made a point to linger, unsure if a secondary escape plan was being hatched.