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Old 06-16-2007
 
#227
United States Reservoir
In need of a Sanitarium
Join Date: Jul 2006
Posts: 912
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Default Re: Tales of Avarice (Open RpG)

(OOC: After far too long on my part, I've decided just what I'm gonna do...)

Kira noted the whine of the automatic door as the captain and his first officer walked onto the bridge. Her red-ish brown hair, hanging down almost to her shoulders, threatened to cover the edged of her peripheral vision the way she was leaning over, but she made an effort to keep straight enough to avoid it. Her Asian features were definitely noticeable, but slightly detracted from her appearance thanks to the hair color.

"Captain, we're on approach vector 335-W03-31. No signs of traffic or chatter. We're coming in clear. Sending approriate codes." said the second-in-command, who was also the first officer. Kira checked all of her instruments to make sure those readings were completely correct, modestly nodding to herself as they all checked green. The signal was sent, and she hoped all went well.

Meanwhile...
~Character 1~


He opened his eyes with great difficulty as the pain began to set in. His thoughts were muddled with the feelings of sharp, distinct pain. He could hardly even begin to think clearly as he exerted a great amount of energy just to sit up. All he knew, for the moment, was pain.

Looking down, he noticed the black trenchcoat he was wearing. Something wasn't right about it...in any event, it wasn't the two pistols he had on body holsters. It was...

"...Ugh..." he groaned as pain washed over him. His questions would have to wait. Whatever he case, he was somewhere, and that somewhere spoke to him as a ship. He needed to find whatever control center there may be.

After several minutes of both agonizing pain and agonizing recognition (which remained ever there, but ever elusive in clarity), he made it to where he assumed was the bridge. Sensor screens abounded around, all tied into one central command chair. Sitting down at it, he noted three things: one was a ship not to far ahead, another was that both ships were cloaked, and, finally, the ship he was on was running on autopilot.

The comm systems were indicating heavy chatter not to far ahead. Even though he was cloaked, he couldn't be sure he would make it. Something told him, through the still seething pains in his head, that he could move in behind the other vessel and use their engine's exhaust to further amplify the cloaks effectiveness. Grunting, he managed to correctly input those instructions...before passing out again.

 
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