Re: The Glorious Championship! [S3G5] [Round One: The "Denny's"]
05-13-2011, 02:32 AM
Originally posted on MSPA by Not The Author.
“Beg pardon, Admiral, but how exactly do you suggest we give him a wormhole generator? Those things need starcraft to haul around-“
“S’arcra’ whi’re th’ size a’ a’oms righ' now. Besi’es, he doesn’ need wormholes jus’ ye’, does he?”
“We’ll be fine, as long as… our gift to him doesn’t endanger us. I would recommend some sort of safeguard should this alleged time-traveller prove dangerous. At least a remote shut-down option.”
“Agreed. Aio, Heng, figure something out.”
“Ayyye, Admirrralll.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
“Speaking of safeguards… Terrence, what weapons do we have?”
“I sought jhou vished peasful cooperaison, Atmiral.”
“I do. Quantos does, presumably. The others may not, if that man is anything to… Oh, what is he…? Open a channel.”
***
Quantos knelt over the dead guard’s prone form, rifling through his pockets.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting supplies. You can send radio signals, right?”
“…Yes, we’re able. Wh-”
The cyborg waggled a walkie-talkie over his shoulder without turning around.
“In case we need to split up. Ah, sweet, he’s got a flashlight, too!”
Quantos stood, tucking the ill-gotten goods into his coat and propping open the Denny’s entrance for his rotund companion.
“If we’re in this for the long haul I’d rather be prepared. Not like he was using them, anyway. Now come on! We’re falling behind the others.”
***
“…Cut transmission.”
High Admiral Itzel let out a heavy sigh. Around her, the ship’s chief officers were busy at their various stations, busier than they’d been in decades.
Captain Quirrinal was ensuring that the ship still ran properly, keeping the Admiral from the necessity of dealing with mundane administrative problems. Chief of Security Malfallow was handling the fallout from the djinn’s initial shipwide broadcast – the people had not yet resorted to violence, and if he did his job right, things would stay that way. Helmsman N’ghm was taking in as much data as the scanners could process and sending the readings to Chief Scientist Aio for analysis. Chief Librarian LeBeau was cross-referencing historical data for anything relevant to their current locale; Chief of Communications Szindle was setting up a private outgoing channel for the Admiral’s convenience; and Chief Engineer Heng was constantly busy tweaking various systems and trying to maximize efficiency.
Chief Medical Officer Ameretat had been graced with a minimum of work – in their scramble to make sure no critical failures had occurred at the beginning of the round, they’d not had time to gather information on any of their competition. Since then, they had collected Quantos’ physiological data, but she had found him to be essentially human, and needed to do little further research. The time traveller’s cybernetic elements were more Aio’s field, and while she was building a psychological profile of the man, she couldn’t really determine much in just a few minutes.
Chief Defensive Coordinator Terrence had never had as much to do as anyone else, but he imagined things wouldn’t stay calm for long. A battle to the death was unlikely to leave Lucky without damage.
“Terrence, you heard the man. Better to be prepared.”
“Jhes, Atmiral.”
***
Lucky drifted into the distinctly un-restaurant-like facility.
“Well, this isn’t suspicious at all. Looks like some kind of military base.”
The time traveller poked his head into the room on the left, gaze sweeping across the room.
“Empty. Something happened here recently, though.”
He took a whiff of ozone and burnt flesh, expression turning to disgust as the door slid shut in his wake. Quantos hurried over to the room’s only other exit, gesturing for Lucky to follow. The pair passed into the central chamber, met with the smells of breakfast and the clatter of an aged typewriter.
"Oh, um. Hello...?"
Spoiler
“Beg pardon, Admiral, but how exactly do you suggest we give him a wormhole generator? Those things need starcraft to haul around-“
“S’arcra’ whi’re th’ size a’ a’oms righ' now. Besi’es, he doesn’ need wormholes jus’ ye’, does he?”
“We’ll be fine, as long as… our gift to him doesn’t endanger us. I would recommend some sort of safeguard should this alleged time-traveller prove dangerous. At least a remote shut-down option.”
“Agreed. Aio, Heng, figure something out.”
“Ayyye, Admirrralll.”
“Aye, Admiral.”
“Speaking of safeguards… Terrence, what weapons do we have?”
“I sought jhou vished peasful cooperaison, Atmiral.”
“I do. Quantos does, presumably. The others may not, if that man is anything to… Oh, what is he…? Open a channel.”
***
Quantos knelt over the dead guard’s prone form, rifling through his pockets.
“What are you doing?”
“Getting supplies. You can send radio signals, right?”
“…Yes, we’re able. Wh-”
The cyborg waggled a walkie-talkie over his shoulder without turning around.
“In case we need to split up. Ah, sweet, he’s got a flashlight, too!”
Quantos stood, tucking the ill-gotten goods into his coat and propping open the Denny’s entrance for his rotund companion.
“If we’re in this for the long haul I’d rather be prepared. Not like he was using them, anyway. Now come on! We’re falling behind the others.”
***
“…Cut transmission.”
High Admiral Itzel let out a heavy sigh. Around her, the ship’s chief officers were busy at their various stations, busier than they’d been in decades.
Captain Quirrinal was ensuring that the ship still ran properly, keeping the Admiral from the necessity of dealing with mundane administrative problems. Chief of Security Malfallow was handling the fallout from the djinn’s initial shipwide broadcast – the people had not yet resorted to violence, and if he did his job right, things would stay that way. Helmsman N’ghm was taking in as much data as the scanners could process and sending the readings to Chief Scientist Aio for analysis. Chief Librarian LeBeau was cross-referencing historical data for anything relevant to their current locale; Chief of Communications Szindle was setting up a private outgoing channel for the Admiral’s convenience; and Chief Engineer Heng was constantly busy tweaking various systems and trying to maximize efficiency.
Chief Medical Officer Ameretat had been graced with a minimum of work – in their scramble to make sure no critical failures had occurred at the beginning of the round, they’d not had time to gather information on any of their competition. Since then, they had collected Quantos’ physiological data, but she had found him to be essentially human, and needed to do little further research. The time traveller’s cybernetic elements were more Aio’s field, and while she was building a psychological profile of the man, she couldn’t really determine much in just a few minutes.
Chief Defensive Coordinator Terrence had never had as much to do as anyone else, but he imagined things wouldn’t stay calm for long. A battle to the death was unlikely to leave Lucky without damage.
“Terrence, you heard the man. Better to be prepared.”
“Jhes, Atmiral.”
***
Lucky drifted into the distinctly un-restaurant-like facility.
“Well, this isn’t suspicious at all. Looks like some kind of military base.”
The time traveller poked his head into the room on the left, gaze sweeping across the room.
“Empty. Something happened here recently, though.”
He took a whiff of ozone and burnt flesh, expression turning to disgust as the door slid shut in his wake. Quantos hurried over to the room’s only other exit, gesturing for Lucky to follow. The pair passed into the central chamber, met with the smells of breakfast and the clatter of an aged typewriter.
"Oh, um. Hello...?"