2732/Out of the Fog

Out of the Fog
Date of Scene:	04 August 2015
Location:	The Great Mountains
Synopsis:	The R.S.S. Konstantinov flees the hot pursuit of the R.S.S. Taktarov, bargaining with multiversal powers if it means saving themselves.
Cast of Characters:	Maya, 62, 96, 320, 851

---

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
The Great Mountains, multiversal territories.

High above the cold, thin mountain air but still well within the realm of the atmosphere, there are two great airships of some kind pursuing one another. Mist has cloaked their progress since they came into the area, one chasing the other with deadly intent, the other attempting to flee for all it's worth. Their heated battle has raged for nearly a week, though unseen; both huge airships so high they're nearly lost in the mist that cloaks the mountaintops.

For a brief moment, fire lights the clouds, a brilliant bloom of yellow and orange and red flaring and dying through the clouds, followed a moment later by the thundering roar of artillery.

Broadsides volleys. The two ships have found one another, and are firing each upon the other.

Blue-white light flickers through the clouds, too; and the roar that follows is ten times worse than the thunder of the artillery.

Sorceresses. The ships, one in earnest and the other in desperation, are firing volleys of sorcerous energy at one another.

A Skyfurnace is a great ship, a mile and a half from stem to stern. Nothing done by one is a minor effort, and requires great expenditure of manpower from its crew, which may be up to twenty thousand men.

Out of the mist comes a distress call. It's an automated signal, followed by a brief, crackling vocal transmission from a woman.

    <<--ntares of--R.S.S. Konstantinov--equesting imme--assista--epeat, requesting immediate assista--!>>

Thunder comes again from the two ships, and for the first time in a week, both Skyfurnaces begin to descend. The huge gunmetal, strutted hulls pierce the fog; one of them slews alarmingly to one side, perhaps the one that had sent the distress call, going by how beat-up the airship looks, trailing flame and smoke from one side.

The second airship comes roaring after it, the six ventral exhaust ports under it glowing menacingly. If that beleaguered ship, the Konstantinov, doesn't get some kind of help, soon -- even if just a distraction -- it's going to go down.

Even hailing the second ship might be enough to give it pause -- maybe these things are new to the multiverse, so intent on the rolling thunder of their battle that they haven't noticed the strange place they've found themselves in. Who knows?

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    "Oy, Captain. We're picking up a distress call from a nearby world below us," Comes the call of a crewman, looking down at some moniters and charts in front of him. He scowls a bit, "Looks like... two airships, down in atmo."

    Flint sits in the Captain's chair and quirks an eyebrow, playing with a long lock of his blonde hair. He sighs a bit and then looks over at the tall man standing next to his chair. Mister Blade, as he is known, looks down at the captain, "Could be worth checking out sir. Pick one side, loot the others. Or let them fight it out and loot the loser."

    Flint lets out another sigh and stands up, adjusting the hat on his head.

    Not too long after that call goes out, there's a small one-man fighter ship dropping out of the space-ship and zipping down into the storm. It approaches carefully, staying high up and circling as Flint opens communications.

    "Hello hello, attention pair of ships having a bit of a dustup. This is Cap'n Flint Hawke of the Black Sun freelancer vessel. Any chance you'd be willing to cease fire and open parley?"

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
Voodoo Flight and Witch Flight were in the area, chasing some rumor of Alien interference and UFO sightings outside of their own Earth. The eight craft fly in formation, when Voodoo 3 picks up the distress call. <<Central, Voodoo 3. Receiving a faint distress call from the Great Mountains area... Long Range Radar is picking up two massive air signitures.>>

    Bradford hmms. "Understood Voodoo, maintain distance and observe for now, open comms to the ships and find out what they're fighting over... you are weapons safe unless fired on, or Wing Leader discretion to intervene in an obviously unwarrented engagement."

    Voodoo 1 confirms, then checks his wing. Four sets of Avalanche Missiles, two Phoenix Cannons with AP-I shells, and two with those experimental Laser Cannons the eggheads cooked up. He doesn't trust them to fail, especially in a combat engagement, but the added punch might be needed. <<Voodoo and Witch flights, you heard the man, weapons safe, set bearing 210 to target.>> a switch of frequencies, and the pilot speaks again. <<This is XCOM Interceptor Squadron, Voodoo 1, Callsign "BlackJack". Attention, we are coming in from your bearing 070 at 500kph. Request you cease fire and state your purpose here. Repeat, cease fire and state your purpose.>>

Maya has posed:
The Marduk was a ship born of the influence of the multiverse on Maya's world. It was the command ship for an independent group of former pirates and mercs which had turned policing the lower shell of her world art the collapse of major Pirate Lord's fleet. The Union had needed some aid with the paroling of the multiverse and so here they were with Maya for the moment in command of the ship.

"Lady Maya, we're picking up a distress call of some sort. A ship called the R.S.S. Konstantinov."

Maya mused for a moment she'd have to think who knows which side was which.

"Lay in a course and communications get them on the line as soon as possible."

A short time later the angular hull of the Marduk would be seen approaching the fight. It's weapon ports are closed for the moment however as a signal is sent on the open channel to the Vessels.

"This is the battleship Marduk allied with the Union. Cease fire and state the nature of your conflict."

Maya's appearance might be odd to an off worlder or it might not be not, long blue hair, green eyes, tanned skin from her world outside and blue streak almost tribal like tattoos under her eyes.

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    Caro is not naturally graced with flight, but given having gotten to the right area, she can get around with a little help from her friend. Namely, of course, the dragon familiar she's brought along in the dimensional transfer that she'd taken to respond to the distress signal. Others seem to be involved in handling the communications; Caro, at least at first, will leave that up to others.

    She's more concerned about trying to break up the fighting before it gets started, and sometimes just the sight of a dragon will do that. Friedrich, in his much-larger form, with Caro riding atop, will take flight, trying to put on a show to distract that second airship while Maya hails it. Thus, they are not being particularly stealthy, and Friedrich will shoot a blast of fire harmlessly upwards, almost as though it were a flare.

    There are places where dragons get shot at on sight. Caro's presently fervently hoping this isn't one of them.

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
The bridge of the R.S.S. Konstantinov is a veritable hive of activity, with Sorceresses monitoring damage, the Skymarshal stalking from station to station like a tiger, barking orders and generally trying to maintain some kind of illusion of control. Or purpose. This looks like it's going to be a losing battle for the Konstantinov, and its command crew seemingly knows it.

A woman with a long braid hunkers near one of the command stations, holding onto the cold iron railing around it to keep from being rattled out of her seat. She seems to be the one asking for help, gritting her teeth every time the ship is rocked by an explosion.

    <<R.S.S. Konstantinov to Captain Hawke. Are you Transnationalists? I don't know of any-->> And here the woman's voice stops, because the ship is rocked by an explosion that shakes it to its core, slewing the Skyfurnace sideways, <<--Black Sun organisation--tell the Taktarov to get off our asses, and maybe we can talk!>>

Thunder rolls again; her communication is cut off as the Konstantinov trails thick, black smoke. So far, though, the giant hulk seems to be staying airborne. Somehow.

Union? The term is apparently unfamiliar to both vessels, which don't respond immediately. No doubt each Skymarshal is consulting with their crew, trying to figure out who or what in the hell they're talking to.

The voice that answers is a man's, smooth and urbane.

    <<This is Skymarshal Volkov of the R.S.S. Taktarov. This is an internal matter of the Red Fleet; the Konstantinov and its crew are criminals fleeing punishment. Whether you're Transnationals or someone else, we have no intention of breaking away. That is all. Volkov out.>>

The tail end of the transmission is interrupted by a different voice from the Konstantinov; a man's voice, sputtering in anger.

    <<This is Skymarshal Antares of the Konstantinov. Get the Taktarov off us; we can't take much more of this!>> Off-radio, he can be heard shouting, briefly, before the signal cuts out. "Lieutenant, get me a damage report, and get it now!"

Another voice issues as the ships continue firing on one another; the same woman that had made the initial distress call.

    <<Transnationalists or no, Union, whoever you are, please help us. We can't last under this barrage, and Volkov's not going to be interested in negotiations. The Konstantinov can't go down here; our mission is too important. Surprise them if that's what it takes; lose them in the mist, take out their Skyfurnace's ventral array, I don't care! Just drive them away, because Volkov isn't going to stop firing! Lead them off and lead them into the mist if that's what it takes!>>

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    It's becoming apparent that one group of people are Cops and the other group of people are Running From Cops. Unless the pay is ridiculously slanted, the natural inclination of Flint is to help 'Not Cops', preventing any sort of law enforcement from doing their jobs.

    Flint re-opens his comms, "Black Sun's my ship. Consider me a Freelance Commerce Enthusiast if you need to know what organization I belong to, then, love," He chirps, smiling widely.

    Of course, communications are cut out and that makes him a bit sad. Didn't even get to talk payment with those nice folks. But, owing to his prior natural inclinations, he does bank the fighter and start to dive down into the storm. There's the shriek of jet engines as the small and flighty craft turns around and heads into the fray.

    Flint pulls the trigger inside the cockpit and sends out a raking few lines of laser fire along the bow and top of the Taktarov.

    His thumb flicks a moment later and lets loose a streaking metal cylinder that tries to slam into the side of the ship and open a nice hole in its hull.

    He really doesn't like Cops, Space Cops or otherwise.

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    Voodoo 1 frowns behind his flight helmet. Freq switch. <<Voodoo and Witch flights. Weapons Free.>> Freq Switch. <<Central, we're engaging one of the airships... there's something I don't like about this Volkov guy.>>

    Bradford, monitoring the comms through the relay doesn't say anything, merely watching the guncam feed from the various aircraft as they unlock their weapons controls and begin scanning the Taktarov for targets.

    'BlackJack' transmits orders. Avalanche craft to engage and try to knock out weapon ports, Pheonix to close in and attack engines and lifting bodies. Lasers to seek out the command deck and try to strike a critical blow.

    Confirmations chatter, and the eight craft split off into four pairs. The Avalanche Air Torpedo isn't exactly an agile missile, but against something this size, it should be more than accurate enough. Four missiles streak out from the fuselage bays of the lead craft, streaking through the misty air to slam into the hull of the Taktarov, before they detonate inside.

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    Of course, Caro is pretty firmly on the side of cops, being one in a sense, and will take up the broadcast, Friedrich firing another blast, this time in the general direction of the pursuing ship. This attempt at a warning shot is going to lose effectiveness, because others are actually trying to do damage, but it's something she feels at least obliged to try.

    "Please, we can attempt to sort out this all peacefully. If you continue to fight, we will be forced to intervene more sternly on the.." And here there's a hesitation in her voice, still sounding quite young. "..Konstantinov's behalf. If they are truly criminals, and we all land and sort this out, we'll be glad to assist in taking them to proper authorities, but I cannot allow you to just destroy their vessel like that."

Maya has posed:
Maya is going to trust in Caro's skills today hopefully she will be able to also help disrupt the fight so they can figure out what's going on with this battle It's quite pitched from the looks for a moment.

She's going to have to make a judgement call here based on what she got from the ship. Given her own origins she recalls being in situations like this. She's going to have to trust in her hunch. She didn't even get a chance to tell the other about the Multiverse which from the sounds of things it's a fresh unification from the looks of it.

"All hands make ready for possible combat."

"Aye Aye Lady Maya."

Maya responds to the other ship.

"This attempt to bring n these criminals without any regards to bring them in for trial is most irregular. What charges do they face? If you stand down so we can sort this out without anyone else dying. If you do not see reason the needed force will be used to stop this battle."

Maya knew this was a long shot but her ship's crew was making ready for a fight. She's got a feeling that it's not going to be talked out but she's been at this too long to give up without trying. Her ship however is powering it's engines and moving towards the conflict.

Maya opens a channel to Caro.

"Miss Ru Lushe are you ready? I pray they are willing to sort this out but I fear this is going to be combat. I'll be counting on your skills to keep blood shed down."

The hounded ship would see the Marduk moving in while it's not offically siding with them yet it's looking like they are going to. She holds on opening a channel to the other ship she wants to but this last ploy at Diplomacy will play out, right?

"Lady Maya close defence drones are ready to launch."

"Keep them on stand by gunners ready, focus on disabling the hostiles if it comes to it rather than out right sinking them."

"Yes Lady Maya."

Comes one of the red plated cyborgs manning one of the bridge stations.

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
Although closely matched in size, differences between the two airships are apparent on closer investigation. The Konstantinov is slightly larger, but that seems to be because the ship boasts heavy armour plating, welded and riveted directly onto its airframe. Most of it is looking to be in pretty bad shape, chewed up by fire from the Taktarov. The Taktarov is much sleeker, and it seems to have more in the way of weapons ports and batteries than its armoured counterpart.

Looks like this might have been a protracted battle, left to its own devices; the Immovable Force against the Unstoppable Object, maximised offense against maximised defense. This battle probably would have been settled by other means, if it came down to brass tacks -- boarding, maybe, with those great open decks atop the ships and those countless levels below the open deck.

Quite suddenly, the Taktarov is burning. Its chief engineer reports the damage to its too-calm Skymarshal, who then gives the order to crush these insects, and no, he doesn't care if they're Transnationals or 'Gorkas or little green men; just /shoot them down/ and /do it now/.

Meanwhile, the Konstantinov takes advantage of this distraction to regroup and double up on its defenses; routing energy to its shielding, and taking care of what emergency repairs it can manage.

Volkov, apparently, presses the attack, but he does manage a retort for Caro. Volkov's oily-smooth voice is beginning to sound a little annoyed, and damage reports are audible all across the bridge behind him. A lot of them, by the sound of it; Hawke is actually doing some serious damage.

    <<Keep your nose out of matters that do not concern you, little girl-->>

He doesn't get the courtesy of finishing his sentence, because the missiles fired by the Voodoo craft bring the Skyfurnace to shudder and roar as steel protests fire and concussive force. Apparently that Skyfurnace sacrificed any semblance of defense for a chance at obliterating its foes; enough that, when faced with the superior firepower of an Elite, it may be a serious threat to the mile-long airship.

Volkov's voice comes in again.

    <<Have it your way, little girl. But the Red Fleet will not forget this interference.>>

Slowly, oh so slowly, the Skyfurnace begins to bank, trailing smoke of its own. Apparently, he had no interest in ever negotiating this point; merely in bringing down the Konstantinov, perhaps in dragging its Skymarshal back in chains. Alas, not today. One wouldn't imagine that something that big could move that fast as the Taktarov flees back up and into the fog, but it does, and soon it's lost to sight; even the reverberating thunder of its massive engines hushing.

That leaves the Konstantinov. A man's voice answers the various Elites; the same harried one they had heard speaking earlier -- but only once the Taktarov is well and truly gone to lick its wounds in peace.

    <<This is Skymarshal Urik Antares of the R.S.S. Konstantinov.>> There comes a sigh; one of relief. <<I don't know who you people are, but you have our gratitude-->>

There's the sound of a slight scuffle, and then a woman's voice; the same who had sent the initial distress call.

    <<Thank you, on behalf of the entire crew of the Konstantinov. We'll proceed to the following coordinates, and we can speak there-->>

Off-signal, one can hear Urik cursing, along with exclamation of 'give that back, you damned witch!'

Gradually, the Konstantinov turns and limps towards a relatively clear area, revealing its length in detail -- enormous, even against the mountainous backdrop; and also pretty beat up.

    <<Skymarshal Antares to our allies. You may board the Skyfurnace; we may speak there -- move forward to the upper deck; there should be room enough for your craft to land. We will be waiting.>>

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    BlackJack confirms back to the Konstantinov, then speaks to his wing. <<Witch Flight, maintain CAP around the area... no surprises, if that other ship comes back, blast it out of the air.>> he hmms, and turns his attention to the rest of Voodoo flight. <<Voodoo Three and Four, maintain a CAP as well, Voodoo Two, you're with me.>>

    To the Konstantinov, Voodoo One transmits. <<Confirmed Konstantinov. We have VTOL capability, clear the deck and we can set down in a short run space. I'm bringing my wingman in and maintaining a Combat Air Patrol around the landing site, in case your friends come back.>>

    And true enough, Voodoo One and Two descend, swiveling their engines and entire wing assemblies to provide lifting thrust, before settling onto their wheels, engines whining as they spool down. The Pilots untangle themselves from their flight gear, and open the canopies of thier aircraft. A man and a woman emergy from the Lead and Wing craft respectively, their callsigns clearly printed on their flight suits. Blackjack is the man, a tall black guy with a close cropped hair style and piercing green eyes. The woman is... Elza Lengar? To anyone that's met the Mercenary, she'd be an odd sight in the flight seat of an aircraft, but here she is.

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    Well, that's a taunt that will land home, at least, because Caro's not gotten MORE secure over the years about her perceptions and all, mostly because she seems to have had all of her height stolen by others over the years. "I'm sixteen." She mumbles, to herself and Friedrich, as she gets the response from Volkov. She won't taunt him again, or anything; if he's breaking off, then that's well enough.

    Given that they seem to have rather firmly picked a side in this particular struggle, she might as well go see what she's gotten the Union into locally. At the invitation, she'll manuver to allow Friedrich to land; once she's on deck, she'll look around to see just who might be coming to greet them.

    Given that there's not immediately a swarm of people aiming guns at her, Friedrich will seemingly vanish in an elaborate burst of pink seals and arrays; a few moments later, the much smaller version of him will land on Caro's shoulder.

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    "Roger that, mate," Flint hails back to the ship, "And if you want to thank me, we can talk payment after I land. I can offer a discount since this was the first time," He notes as he adjusts some controls and then starts bringing the ship around.

    "We'll be coming in for a landing shortly," Flint notes in reply, swinging his fighter around in an agilemaneuver before starting to head it towards a spot on the upper deck to set down his aircraft. It's a small one-seater fighter craft, so it hardly takes up more than a little space.

    Hopping out of it a moment later is Freelance Space Enthusiast Flint Hawke, looking around a bit as he adjusts the long coat he wears and fishes around in his jacket for a pipe.

Maya has posed:
Maya's ready for heavy combat but something fortunate happens, the hostile ships start to pull back with a warning. She listens makes note of it. She will worry about that later, she's taken a risk here and she prays to the fates it's the right one. There's no turning back now she'll reply to their invitation.

"Understood we'll meet you there Konstantinov I'll use a landing craft to come aboard."

It won't take long to meet up and they would find the very strange looking captain of the Marduk is clad in a mix of metal and leather more fitting of some sort of waste-lander of some sort. She seems to be however carrying herself far better than one would expect someone like that to look. She's accompanied by two men who are in what looks like some sort of military armour but they remain with the lander.

"Keep with the ship, I'll be back when this is over."

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
On the open upper deck of the Konstantinov, which appears to be mostly bare metal plating in a very minimalist fashion, several of what are presumably the senior officers have gathered. They're a diverse lot, all wearing plain grey military-style greatcoats. The most decorated-looking one is a clean-shaven man, with brown eyes and short brown hair under his officer's cap; gleaming golden ornamentation suggesting that this must be Skymarshal Urik Antares. Near him with arms folded, leaning against the rail, is a woman with a long blonde braid and shockingly blue eyes; medals on her greatcoat suggest that she must be of some sort of rank. Beside her stands a giant of a bald-headed man, carrying all manner of weaponry on his person, unsmiling and silent. Near the Skymarshal is a man in work overalls and a short-brimmed engineer's cap, absently lighting a cigarette as he cocks a dark eye toward the sky. Near the blonde-braided woman is another woman with short brown hair, laughing green eyes, and a seeming devil-may-care attitude, arms folded, chatting quietly with the blonde woman. Finally, sulking behind the company is a girl of no more than sixteen, with a fishfur cap, a coat two or three sizes too big for her, oversized boots, and a hammer and sickle over her back. She looks annoyed; every so often she and the huge bald man glower at one another, like a very big crabby cat looking at a very crabby mouse.

They're waiting as the various allies land on the deck, straightening up and coming to some semblance of attention when their 'guests' arrive. The Skymarshal and blonde-braided woman are the first to step forward, though not without a seemingly dubious look at one another.

What few infantry there are file past, more interested in whatever their own business is than staring.

"Comrades." The Skymarshal is the one who speaks first. He looks tired; they all do, but he seems genuinely pleased to address the gathering. Mostly because the alternative would've been dying in the conflagration of a Skyfurnace's death throes. "Welcome to the R.S.S. Konstantinov. Well, formerly R.S.S.," he adds, sighing. "I'm afraid we've had a bit of a difference of opinion with the Fleet."

"It's a long story." The blonde-braided woman speaks up, looking up and studying each arrival with those blue eyes of hers; arms still crossed as though distrusting. "The long and short of it is that the Red Fleet is corrupt, and we decided we have had enough of taking orders from a corrupt Fleet. We have a more important mission, one that the Fleet would prefer we not undertake, for the good of all people everywhere." She tilts her head, frowning subtly. "But you are not Transnationals. You are not 'Gorkas--" The girl in the fishfur cap mutters something savage, "--but you are not Red soldiers, either." Her eyes slide over each, as she seems to mull over the implications of this.

Silence falls for a few seconds.

And then the woman blinks, somewhat owlishly. "This may sound foolish, but you... you are not dead, are you? If you are Red heroes, you are very strange-looking to me, and I do not remember heroes like you."

"Mountains," the Skymarshal mutters, glancing back to the peaks that overshadow them. "Those aren't on our charts..."

The blonde woman has the look of bewilderment hiding behind suspicion trying to look calm. She manages it, mostly. "Who--who are you people?"

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    'BlackJack' and his Wingman, her callsign reads: Avalanche, share a look themselves, then glance at the gathering of other Multiversals. They shrug, and Avalanche steps forward. "We're from XCOM, eXtraterrestrial COMbat Unit, Earth-115..." she trails off a little. "To coin an old saying, you're not in Kansas anymore. This is the Great Mountains area of a place most people call the Multiverse... it's a, patchwork of worlds, some whole, others fragmented, that, for one reason or another have 'Unified' together." she offers. "I don't know the full details, some of the others here have been around far longer than I have, so they might be able to explain better."

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    "The Konstantinov! Mouthful of a name, very robust. I prefer snappier, simpler names. Black Sun, people hear that name and they remember it," Flint says in response to the man, tilting his head a bit and watching him. Then he looks over to the other woman as she identifies that he is certainly none of those other things she just named. She wants an introduction.

    "Captain Flint Hawke, at your service! Freelance Space Enthusiast, happy to make your acquaintance," He scratches his head a bit, "Not all that experienced in the 'well you're part of this all song and dance now' part, I'm sure other people are better. Long and the short of it, you were in a world, now that world just got a lot bigger. Lot different types of people around, too. Gonna be a heck of a thing to get used to," He shrugs.

    He scuffs one boot along the deck and then adjusts both his Captain's Hat and his long coat, "Happy to be of service, though. Happy to really help in any way that promotes further independance as well as turns a minor profit for myself."

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    Caro's actually done the first contact thing before! She's not the worst at it, though looking like she's still a child does not help her cause, generally.

    She'll give a glance at Flint, because she's familiar with him, and he fills her with something vaguely close to disapproval, before looking back over to the new arrivals. "..Mm. That's more or less correct. Your distress signal was picked up, and we move to intervene. I'm not familiar with any of the groups that you mention. My name is Caro, though, and I'm glad to have helped."

    Caro seems to consider her next few words carefully. "Some of us are members of an organization that may be able to help you, if you've run into trouble but can contribute in turn. I'm a Lieutenant in what's simply called the Union. If you'd like, I can help get you in touch with people who can explain it in great detail?"

    Which is mostly to say people who can go through the main speil and also important paperwork; Caro has neither with her.

    "...He is also around, but is not affiliated with us." Caro will add, giving Flint another slightly wary look.

Maya has posed:
Maya seems to be taking in the crew he4re as she arrives she seems to be curious but she's trying her best to be respectful as well and thusly not stare. The woman who commands the ship seems to be in a type of situation, which is not unknown to Maya herself.

"No I am very much still alive, I can assure you of that, my ship the Marduk, myself and it's crew hail from a world called Septerra. Your crew acquitted themselves quite well. I am Maya of the city of Oasis. It's as my comrade has said, I'd not want to drag you into more trouble, but we can at least get you connections to information to better explain the world, yours is now a part of."

She looks to Hawke and notes very politely.

"He is a freelance ship captain who has become quite known in the multiverse at large for his skills."

She also makes note of the combat pilots from the far more Terran like craft that joined the battle as well.

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
Each and every response seems to be considered and weighed by all of those gathered from the Konstantinov. One or two of them cast a faint, annoyed look at that Transnationalist expression -- why would they be in Kansas, anyway? -- but in general they let the others speak. Apparently the knowledge of having crossed the world boundary is not as much of a shock as it could be. Maybe they had suspected it when their charts and navigation had abruptly stopped making sense.

"I wouldn't change this Skyfurnace's name any more than I'd leap over that railing," the Skymarshal snaps, apparently annoyed by the slight. "People remember the Konstantinov in our home. It was the flagship of the Red Fleet; I should hope they remembered that much."

"Uri." The blonde woman flicks a glance at the Skymarshal, raising a cautionary hand. Her eyes return to the others. "No, that makes sense. Our navigational systems stopped making sense a week ago. Even if we wanted to rendezvous with the Fleet in Nokgorka, I don't think any of us could retrace our route back."

Awkward silence.

"Oh, forgive me. Introductions are in order. I am Sorceress-Major Maya Antares," the blonde woman adds, with a polite inclination of her head.

"Skymarshal Urik Antares. Formerly," the man adds, a little bitterly.

"Kyuzo," rumbles the taciturn and unsmiling giant; and that's all he says.

"Captain Alexandra Goncharova." The green-eyed woman lifts a hand. "Damn, ambushed by the Taktarov, lost Archangel's heading, rescued by Transnationalists... what a start this week's off to."

"You should be a little more grateful," Urik snaps. "Might I remind you the Taktarov--"

"Believe me, I saw what Volkov was doing to the Konstantinov's insides," Alexandra mutters.

"Chief Engineer Andrei Torin." The man with the cigarette and the work overalls studies the others blandly, before shrugging and focusing his attention on his cigarette. "I suppose you were right, Skymarshal Antares..."

Maya steps forward, folding her arms as she considers the others. "Union. I've never heard of it. None of us have. But..." She glances back at the others, as though they were gauging one another's reactions; each looking to the other. "Excuse me," she offers, to Caro, rejoining her group for a moment; apparently they have a brief but heated exchange amongst themselves, nearly too rapid-fire to follow. Evidently it doesn't interest the girl in the fishfur cap at all, who looks like she might be either disgusted, or entertaining whether she could survive a leap from the railing.

The name 'Marcus' does come up quite a few times, from more than one individual. Must be somebody important.

After a few moments, the group turns to both Caro and Flint, although the pirate is eyed a little more dubiously. "Captain Hawke," Urik says at length, straightening his cap, "we will discuss a price with you momentarily. Lieutenant Caro, we will be happy to speak with you on this further. We may not have much right now, but we of the Konstantinov will offer what we can for your Union. We are in your debt."

"Pirates," Maya mutters under her breath as Urik negotiates with Caro, eyeing Hawke with distinct distate. "No better than war profiteers and looters. I had my fill of those in Bahamut. But," she sighs, "one good turn deserves another. Very well, Captain Hawke, name your price. If we are able, we will pay it. If we are not, we will owe you a favour, or two."

Elise Leroy (62) has posed:
    BlackJack and Avalanche obviously have little to add or offer here, though they do introduce themselves formally, as the others give their names. "Flight Lieutenant Cory 'Blackjack' Dynes." and "Flight Sergeant Elza 'Avalanche' Lengar." respectively.

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    "Oh, please don't misunderstand me!" Flint notes, raising his hands to the man, "I name my ship my way, you name your ship your way. Your ship, your name. Just stating my own methodology there, mate, no need to us to get our voices raised. He smiles a bit again and then slowly lowers his hands from the surrender gesture.

    Caro and Maya both catch his eye. He lifts his head up and then tilts his head, "Ladies, good to see you again. Keeping well, I hope, and out of trouble," He smiles a bit and then thrusts his hands into his pockets as he listens. There's a lot of names going out, and he might remember a whole two of them. Mostly Maya Antares and Urik, because they share a last name.

    Flint rocks on his feet a bit chipperly. He hardly seems phased by Maya's use of the term, "Pirate is such a vulgar term. I prefer to think of myself as an Independant Profiteer, or at the very least an aggressive capitalist," He shrugs his shoulders to Maya, still sporting that smile, "How about one hundred gallons of fresh water? Or... say... a half-ton of steel? That seems low enough. I'd also accept, say, a hundred kilos of fresh food or salt."

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    Caro will give a nod in response. "Let me get hold of the proper people to get you in touch with, then." She's mostly trying to make certain she remembers all of the names and details. They were rather alien to her, but that too was something Caro had gotten used to over time.

    She's almost, but not quite, ignoring Flint with just a simple nod in acknowledgement to him. "Fewer undead things lately." Which was at least one way life was looking up recently!

    With that done, though, she's going to leave Flint to negotiate with the ship while she goes to get everything she needs to make the wheels of progress turn. They're mostly fed by paperwork.

Maya has posed:
Maya is letting things sink in and the crew of the ship get a better handle on things, she will not press thing as she can see thier confusion, then again she was the same once, long ago. Sadly her having no understanding of Earth traffic laws was nearly the death of her. She'll focus on the matter of getting to know them better. She listens to the Captian's tale as she starts to get a better picture of what they have come into.

"It has been some time Captain Hawke, I have been trying to do so. Then again my uncles refer to me as a budle of trouble still for a reason."

She also makes note of his fairly resonable requests for supplies as his reward. Likely a chance to better further relations, but Hawke wouldn't have lived so long by being a fool after all.

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
"Actually, Skymarshals serve, but they do not name the Skyfurnaces." Maya is the one who interrupts, raising her voice before Urik has a chance to say something grumpy. "Most of the time the name is symbolic to the Red Fleet. Leaders, or heroes, or other important pieces of our shared past. Some are named after cities. But I digress. That is not what you came here to hear about."

Profiteer. Wonderful. Maya still seems hesitant to give Flint the benefit of the doubt, very possibly because she's had her own encounters with exactly that sort of person. As a matter of fact, she has, but maybe this Flint character came to the Konstantinov's rescue because he isn't completely terrible. Another pirate would have demanded payment up front, right? Or sided with the Taktarov.

While the Sorceress-Major attempts to convince herself that Flint Hawke is not in fact a hopelessly terrible person, the infantrywoman folds her arms, eyeing him speculatively. 'GONCHAROVA,' the nametag stitched on her jumpsuit reads; but it's Urik who speaks up before she can.

Urik adjusts his cap again, eyeing. "The food and water, though, we can't part with. We lost navigational capabilities a week ago, and we've been drifting ever since, running from the Taktarov. The infantrymen are already eating bad food, and half of them are too sick to stand up; the rest of us are having to ration whatever else is left. No, I have to save that for my men. The steel is yours, though, if Torin thinks we can part with it."

The gnarled engineer looks up from his cigarette, shrugs, and nods; that seems to be good enough for Urik. "It's yours, then, and Torin can have you pick it up later."

"It's good Red steel," Torin offers, in his slightly apathetic, grizzled voice. He regards Flint speculatively. "A little burnt, maybe, but that should make no difference if you plan on smelting it. Half a ton, that should be enough. I hope you have a way to carry it, though; I do not think that tin can of yours will lift it... owing no respect, Comrade," he offers, with a mirthless grin.

Maya turns to Flint. "Hmph. I suppose we have no choice but to trust you, at least for the moment. The steel is yours, then. But we will not pay you anything else in the future. Profiteers... you're all the same. Scavenging the dead, and extorting from the living." Grump, grump.

Urik waves her off with a dismissive flick of his hand. "In any case, I will be happy to speak to the Union on behalf of the Konstantinov. As its commanding officer, for whatever is left of a command structure, I am the most qualified." Urik shrugs. "In any case, we would need some repairs, but I see no trouble with helping the Union in whatever way the Konstantinov can. Whether you need transport, attack, or siegework... it was the finest Skyfurnace of the Red Fleet, and we will show that to you."

"I would also be interested in joining," Maya comments, once Urik's finished. "We have a mission that we must fulfill, which I will tell you about another time, for it is a long story. But helping you would also help ourselves. The long and short of it is, we are looking for a place; a place that does not show up on any of our maps. If what you say is true, if our world is now joined to many others, I do not know where it would be, now. We may never find it. But we must try. And in the meantime, if there is something I may do to help, I will be happy to do it. We are no longer part of the Red Fleet, and I am free to go where I will, although I think my comrades will come with me in this."

Around her, the others nod. Only the girl in the fishfur hat seems aloof, glaring and muttering something about being dragged into these Reds' madness.

Caro Ru Lushe (96) has posed:
    "..There are many people around who can try to help locate a place, but it won't be an easy task. It's difficult to communicate the sheer scope of this place to you when you're new." Caro says, trying to be a bit warning. She'd come in used to the notion of many dimensions and worlds, after all, and the scale of everything had been rather disturbing to her when she'd thought about it.

    "But, regardless, it's good to meet you. We can always use new allies; it seems a lovely ship, certainly." She won't mention how it seemed to have been having issues when they'd arrived; that would be rude, after all.

Flint Hawke (320) has posed:
    The smile is unwavering in the face of the Sorceress-Major's doubt of his character. He nods his head to those making him comments about the steal, "Half-ton, then, good amount. Enough for spot repairs in a snap on my ship." He grins a bit and then fishes around in his coat.

    Eventually, he comes out with a sphere the size of a softball and holds it out to Torin, "Burnt is fine. Just put this on top of the cargo once you've got it prepped, we'll beam it up to the ship when you hit the button," He gives a faint and awkward thumbs up before looking around.

    "Really, though. You lot ever find yourself being harassed by the police again, give me a ring. I always give a discount for dealing with pursuant military, and my reputation with the Union is quite well-established, and I'd hate to see such a nice ship damaged," He notes in a firm tone, folding his hands behind his head.

    "I will leave the beacon with you, though, and shove off to let you negotiate with the Union types," He takes off his hat and bows a bit, "Have a lovely evening."

Maya has posed:
Maya is doing a lot of listening at this point because theirs a lot to take in, she has a feeling they wandered into some very big and likely important events. SO it would be prudent for her to get some more information t take in.

"You need food and water, I can spare some for your crew at the very least."

IT wont' be much but it will at least by unspoiled food for the crew of the ship then comes the interest to join? That gets the Junker's attention.

"I think we can do what we can to help you with that, Sorceress-Major."

Maya Antares (851) has posed:
"To be honest, I have little hope of finding it." Maya shakes her head, reaching up and clearing her hair from her face. "Archangel -- the Prison of Souls -- is not a mortal place on a mortal map. It would have been difficult to find even in the best of circumstances, and now I fear our mission may have become that much more difficult. Perhaps your allies might have heard of it, that we might be pointed in the right direction... but I think we will be searching for a long time. But we will keep searching."

There is a somber determination in her eyes; an absolute unwillingness to back down. Whatever this mission of theirs is, it's clearly important to the Sorceress-Major.

Urik doesn't quite puff up with pride, but the temptation is there. The Konstantinov is the finest Skyfurnace of the Red Fleet. Of course it's a lovely ship... and of course his opinion is biased.

"Your ship must be very big to require that much." Torin, the engineer, reaches up and adjusts his cap, but he doesn't seem particularly distressed by this news. "The Konstantinov can spare that much." He reaches out to take the orb, eyeing it with an almost languid air, which is probably what passes for interest with this man. "I'll have my men prepare it, then. Expect it within the next two hours. Some of it needs to be cleared away and prepared." Without much more, Torin excuses himself belowdecks, probably to start haranguing his men into getting that scrap ready.

"We will keep that in mind." It's the huge bald man that speaks, in a voice like mountains moving. His tone also suggests he probably doesn't actually mean that. So does the way he watches Flint, almost unblinking.

Maya sighs, rubbing at the back of her neck. "Don't mind Kyuzo. It's nothing personal. Anyway, we will be sure to keep that in mind. Thank you, Captain."

The Sorceress-Major turns to Maya, then, nodding faintly; so does Urik, with a grateful expression. "That would be appreciated," he says, before the Sorceress-Major can answer. "Very much appreciated. Thank you very much."

Maya has posed:
Maya listens to the mention of Archangel and a prison for souls? She seems to be very much paying attention even more intently from before. She thinks chosing her words carefully for a moment.

"You may have more help in seeking out something like that here, than you did before. As for the supplies I will have it underway with in the next hour or so. I have surived because othere giving me a chance in a situation very much like the one your crew and your self seem to be in."

Maya takes a moment to speak into a comm unit to inform the Marduk to start prepping some supply transfers.