Welcome to Gaia! ::

Xynth pushed the throttle as far as it would go, but still, the ship was already beyond it's max speed. The afterburner reserves were draining fast as he pushed his vessel to it's absolute limit.

"Damn it! Out of the entire universe, I had to fall out of subspace in the middle of a military skirmish!" He cursed as he manuevered his craft to avoid being hit by the military while simultaneously trying to avoid being targetted by the enemy.

His ship wasn't meant for this type of combat, it was a space craft that was meant to do cargo runs. Sure it had guns, but they were mostly for asteroids or other larger peices of space debris that may end up in his path while on autopilot.

Red warning lights were flashing around him as he tried to escape the battlefield with no luck. There were quite a few of them, more than he could handle. Sure, he could probably be the victor of a one-on-one sortie with one of the enemy ships, but in the middle of this fray, he was more of a sitting duck... Or one should say, a sh*tting bull--in otherwords, completely useless.

"It's just a simple cargo run, they said. It's just to a small supply outpost in the middle of nowhere, they said. It'll be a quick buck or two." Xynth said to himself sarcastically as a stray laser blast hit his left wing, causing smoke to pour out and one of his engines to start stuttering, while the coms finally came to life.

"You are in an unauthorized zone civillian." Came a voice to match the vid screen hologram that overlayed one of his viewscreens. "Leave the area at once."

"Great! Just great!" Xynth shouted to himself. He turned on the comms to answer the message, "It's not like I was planning on falling out of subspace right in the middle of your fight! I'm just a simple cargo pilot trying to deliver some supplies to OutPost Zeta 9."

A missile blast erupted somewhere behind him as the military shot down another enemy craft.

The military had awesome firepower, and Xynth had had his run-ins with them on more than one occasion. Now was one of those occasions that he wished he wasn't in.

Another craft shot down--enemy.

After playing dodge-laser for a few more minutes, the military had finished their skirmish, cleared the area, then jumped back out into subspace, without so much as a 'How are you?' or any other pleasantries, leaving Xynth drifting in the middle of the starry void.

He was a young man of age 23 trying just to survive in this expanse of a technological universe. Long blond hair, green eyes, and a smooth face. He decided to become a pilot at a young age to see the different star systems, not get shot at in the middle of a miltary-on-alien sortie.

Xynth didn't want anything to do with any of the warring factions, in fact, he had even tried to remain as neutral as possible to the pirates and the military. But he never got much respect from either because of his dealings in both. To him, a deal was a deal, regardless of whether the pirates, military, or private sectors were giving him his paycheck.

Checking his navigation, Xynth took a look at where he was. His original course was to bring some food supplies from Beta Sentauri to an outpost only across the system. It was supposed to be a simple in-system jump, a mission lasting no more than three hours. And now, it was going to take longer since most of his reserve fuel was used up in the evasive actions.

Heaving a sigh, he set the cruise control towards his original outpost and leaned back in his chair while looking around.

"This ship's been with me forever." He thought to himself, "Too bad I always seem to hit bad luck, otherwise I would've been able to buy a better ship other than this POS junker."

His ship was the standard cargo ship. In fact, it was the second ship he ever bought, never seeming able to make enough to step up out of the peice of metal he detested, but was quite thankful for on many occasions. Xynth had a love/hate relationship with his ship.

His ship, The Crypt.

Before the ship got it's name, he had always referred to it by it's model number, but after four years, and realizing that his life was going nowhere, he decided to name it The Crypt because he figured he'd end up dying in it in the middle of nowhere, acting like a real crypt.

Xynth sighed again. His supposed few-hour long mission was now turning into a day long mission.

"Damn Zuyak... Now, instead of hoping to getting a bite to eat, I'm going to be quite hungry for the rest of the day." He grumbled before looking at another viewscreen to see what other jobs were lined up that may interest him.

Acceptable protocol stated that when faced with one of the Elders, it was proper to bow once, low, then rise and remain on one's feet until such time as one was either acknowledged or dismissed. Protocol dictated one's clothing to cover one's whole body and head when in the presence of an Elder and to keep one's hands to oneself at all times. Females were not be in the presence of an Elder at any time, stated Protocol. Protocol was specific about the kinds of words that may be used when speaking to an Elder, the proper pronouns and greetings. In fact, all things dealing with the near-immortal Elder came with a set of instructions that had to be followed at all times in order to maintain the Elder's dignity. Rim citizens called them Protocol.

And it had just been washed down the nearest drain.

*******

Water droplets fell from the cavern ceiling and landed in a puddle just to the side of the main walkway, leaving behind shadows as they descended. Low-grade, blue lamps his in corners and on the floor, casting everything around them in that pale light and leaving plenty of room for those shadows. A well-worn path meandered through here, with doors on either side of it and an eventual, large opening at the end. Strange symbols adorned every one of those stone doors, glowing dimly when left alone. The walls, too, were stone and decorated with strange patterns, some looked more like maps while other seemed to have no purpose whatsoever. The air felt damp and cool, and it was quiet, though the sounds of murmuring voices could be heard coming from some of the occupied corners.

"Did you finish that report?" Adanai asked her companion mildly as they walked serenely down the hall.

Mira nodded her head and produced a small crystal from the pocket of her robe. "Of course. I would not wish to attend without being fully prepared."

Both women smiled at this statement as they walked side by side through the hall, footsteps echoing off the stone. They were colorful robes that fell past their ankles, and their hair was covered by a loose veil, plain blue and without and coloration to it. Adanai thought that these halls had not seen the likes of them for much too long, though nothing barred females from coming here save own modesty and a strong desire to maintain the dignity of the Elder who spoke with Lanai the World Maker.

As they reached the far doors, they were met by a man in similar clothing. Like all of those living on this ship, his clothes told the women a lot about him and his status in life. Adanai had just a moment to note that he held less rank than they did before she bowed to the male.

"You are on time," the nameless man stated. "This is good. In six point two minutes, we will enter. Please refrain from coming more than a few steps forward and turning to your left. You will give your report and then depart. Understood?"

"Yes," Mira and Adanai said together, almost as one. "Here is the written version." She handed the man her small crystal.

The man took it and nodded. "Be prepared. You will have three and a half minutes to speak on your concerns before time runs out. Regardless of whether you are done or not, you must leave when the gong sounds thrice."

"We know," Adanai reassured him before leaning back to wait and contemplate their current situation.

She and Mira were friends and piloted a small vessel between the larger ships that comprised their race. Like all citizens, they lived by the rules and prospered under the guidance of the Elders, one per ship. The Elders were said to speak with the World Maker, and thus, their decisions were unquestioned. They made too much sense to warrant any disputes.

The women's last mission had involved a run in with both humans and another alien race, as yet unnamed. Adanai had felt strongly that the Elders needed to be aware that the Rim's most active trading partner was fighting, regardless of whether they were winning or not. The Rim did not allow for violence, nor did it tolerate such actions from those it dealt with through its agents.

Thus, they were here, in part to speak of this, and in part because they felt that a menace needed to be explored, questioned, calculated. Finally, in what seemed like a lifetime, Adanai and Mira were called through the large stone doors and into the presence of a creature before whom they were nothing.

******

"That went well," Mira muttered once the two were back in their ship and on take off flight with a new mission. "The only thing they didn't do was a physical assault."

Adanai shrugged and discarded her robe and veil for a comfortable flight suit. Her long silver hair fell past her knees, and she started braiding it with her two upper hands. The lower hands were already busy with the controls. "We got the permission to do what we need to, and at this point, what they think is of no significance. In short, screw them!"

"Men! I'll never understand them. I wonder if the Humans have more luck in this area..."

"You'll have to ask one some time," Adanai replied just as their AI finally came up with the proper coordinated for a Jump. "But now, let's go find some answers!"

It took thirty more seconds to facilitate the Jump, from double checking the coordinates to strapping into their seats. When it was done, the women smiled at each other and leaned back in their seats for the trip. The AI droned on for a moment about the nearest point of entry into the actual space before the Jump drowned it out.

They came out just before the end of a skirmish, pretty damn far from where they were supposed to go, but thankfully after the worst of the fighting had passed. Their ship was not equipped to dealing with major battles, no matter what anyone thought. As the human side and the alien race in question took off, the two couldn't be happier to look around at the debris and see what they could find. After that was the plan.

"If you would be so kind as to look at the screen," said the AI all too pleasantly. "You will be glad to notice another vessel in the area. There is, I am glad to inform you, a ninety-four per cent chance that the vessel is of human origin. Would you like me to attempt to establish a connection? I would be honored if you said yes!"

Mira, who was now working with the controls typically used for their scavenger operations, looked up. "If you'd be so kind..."

"Too cheerful," muttered Adanai. "Far too cheerful for a battle field..."

Into the commutation panel, she punched in the standard message. "This is a Rim vessel hailing whoever's out there. We carry no weapons and come in no harm. Please do not fire."

Just in case, the humans were trigger happy today....

"Nicaza, they say the engines been playing up since they left there home base a couple of days ago, they request that you or a member of the team look into it."

"Tell the runts I'm on my way." the woman replied before sighing and smirking as she looked to the large ship that had docked, it was an incredible ship, a new model she guessed. Grabbing a belt and a harness she strapped it round her thin frame before heading down the docking platform itself, she would meet the pilot of the ship before discussing a quick contract on letting her get to work on the ship, her work was good and for the price it was well worth it.

As she got down to the platform she saw the pilot and a few others approach her, they were aliens to her and she knew the different ways in which people liked to negotiate, she was part computer you could say. Instead of extending her hand she stopped and bowed before bringing herself up again. They started talking to her in their own language; she quickly adjusted something in her ear, just like a hearing aid so she could understand them.

"So it's a new ship." she found herself saying patting the side of the spacecraft with her robotic right hand, it was gloved so no one was fully aware of it. In fact looking at Nicaza you would say she was of the human race, she seemed to be completely normal for a 25 year old, in a human looking way. The only thing on her face that you would be wary of was a half mask which curved round half of her face and under her chin to the bottom of her neck. It was just a plain black mask that matched with her raven black hair, it curtained her face and often hid her odd eyes. One was a natural blue, the other a robotic grey.

Her clothing consisted of baggy trousers that hung off her hips, they stopped at her knees where they were tucked into a pair of high legged boots, flat boots they didn't add to her height of 5ft 5. Her left leg was robotic and so was her right foot, all was carefully hidden with her clothes. Her top half consisted of a small tank top that stopped above her belly button, the only full part of her that was human was her stomach reaching round to a small part of her back, only half of her chest was robotic. Down her spine was a information tube that powered the rest of her body, it got plugged into the bottom of her neck and went into her body at the middle of her spinal column. Her right arm was human except for her hand while her left arm was completely robotic, leaving her with no human hands left. Pieces of cloth were wrapped up her arms while belts held them in place, a short waistcoat was usual there too but for today she didn't have it on.

The aliens conferred a little more with her before she bowed again and let her colleagues take them away to a waiting place, Nicaza smiled before getting herself ready and attaching herself to the many wires that hung from the large ceiling, with a salute to another colleague she was lifted up to the top of the ship where she would begin her inspection.

"Well this is a pretty fine mess you've got yourself into, isn't it?" Synx thought out loud as she reached out for anything that wasn't flying across the cargo bay. The sound of alarms and various other beeps and crashes added to the nausea that both the multiple red flashing warning lights and the bucking and rolling of the ship brought to her head.

The stowaway was thrown against the wall as the spacecraft rattled again, this time followed by a bang. "Great!" She yelled over the noise, "Now the damn ship is hit! What a pilot I've chose, here! What a pilot..."

She surveyed the room quickly, to avoid any flying cargo. Most of the crates and boxes were strapped into place, but a few broke loose after the exit from subspace brought the ship into a battlefield. The contents of those crates, including some food supplies and one Beta Sentaurian, now flew across the small cargo room with every jerking movement.

"Damn... Military..."

---

Syntienix Bri-iei, or Synx as she was normally referred to, attended the South Sentauri Transgression Reformatory. Which was basically just a nice way of saying that she was an occupant of cell #1003-98 at the South Sentauri jail, to be moved to the Ayxan Sanitarium within a month. Apparently, they thought that her mental state wasn't stable enough to be locked in an underground cell along with hundred other dangerous inmates.

She had heard about a cargo ship that would take off from a strip not far from the prison. So, after gaining access to an air vent, Synx fled to the surface. She didn't have enough time to celebrate her escape, for as soon as she realized she was finally above ground, she was sitting inside the cargo bay in a half-full crate of food supplies. Then the ship took off, hit subspace, and she was free.

During her time in the crate, Synx had a lot of time to think over what she had done, and she found a few flaws in her plan. One, she had no idea as to where the ship was headed. Two, she had no idea exactly who else, if anyone, occupied the ship besides her and the human pilot. Three, she doubted that none of the guards in the jail ignored her absence.

Problem four: Upon exiting subspace, alarms were set off.

After peeking her head out of the crate, Synx was abruptly thrown out of her hiding spot as the little sanctuary broke loose from its bindings. Upon further investigation, that is, finding her way to the window and looking out, the stowaway found they were in the middle of a battlefield.

I chose the escape that had a quirky subspace exit. Just-my-luck.

---

Pressing both palms against the wall of the cargo bay area, tiny, suction-cup-like pores on her hands stuck to the wall and held the flailing stowaway in place until the craft came to a sudden halt, sending her shaggy red-orange hair flying.

Apart from her internal workings, Synx resembled a human, save for a few differences. Her skin was of a light, pale green colour with what looked like tiny scales covering her hands and wrists like gloves. Her eyes were red-orange colour, a similar shade to the hair on her head. Also, unlike humans, whose hair only grows on the round of their heads, Synx's shaggy hair continued growing down her neck, between her shoulder blades, and stopped at the middle of her back.

Waiting for her head to stop spinning, Synx sat on top of a large, undamaged crate and loosened a strap on her belted black pants and long-sleeved shirt, which, she realized, along with the identification bracelet on her wrist, marked her as an inmate. Trying to shake the pressure out of one ear, she shifted her position on the crate and, crossing her legs, gazed into the star-filled void through the window across from her.

"Oh so very different than being underground, no? There, the pressure of rock and soil pushes inward. Here... there is nothing. No pressure... no air."

Noticing another, larger ship out the window, and feeling the vessel jerk slightly, as if the pilot contemplated docking it, Synx began to panic. Jumping back into her little cargo crate, noticing she had more room, as most of its contents were spilt, she closed the top panel and was alone in the dark once again, waiting.

"Yes, Synx. This is very different than being underground."

[ Message temporarily off-line ]

Wait... wait... waiting...

Synx reflected on the amount of time that she had spent as cargo in her now-empty crate. For the initial hiding, the loading, the takeoff, then the hiding again. Why did she leap back into the crate? Did she fear discovery?

Its not as if she didn't assume it. She knew she couldn't hide on a small ship as this one and have her presence *not* known. With all the technology of humans that was unknown to her, and especially since the battlefield run-in spilt some cargo.

All the time contemplating the amount of time spent sitting in a box made the Beta Centaurian realize how hungry she was. One rumble of her belly made her weary.

"Great, so I won't die in prison or get killed by this human pilot or possibly whoever's in that ship he's docking. I'll starve to death first. In a damn cargo crate, to boot!" And, as if she didn't realize before, "Cargo? Is it... edible cargo?" Examining a single item that had managed to stay inside its container, Synx gave a curious smile. "Did I not see before?"

She picked up what looked to be a short, bumpy vegetable that she had never seen before and stuck it under her nose. "Smells harmless enough..." Gingerly, she took a small bite. Not two seconds after, the pickle was consumed. "Well, hey now. I've been sitting on a meal this entire time?"

A little disheartened that her crate was now empty of food, she contemplated exiting her hideout, although she was worried about if the pilot and that ship she saw that she felt was coming ever-closer.

She ran a pale green hand down her red-orange hair, ruffling it a bit. After a few minutes of pondering, her belly made the decision and she shoved off the lid of the box, leaping out. Shrugging, she made her way over to another opened crate, grabbed an armful of pickles, and found her spot, once more, on the larger crate with the window view.

If she was going to be discovered, she'd be discovered with a picnic and captured with a full belly.

OOC Post...

SUBSPACE

Subspace was discovered by humans when they started experimenting with resonant frequencies. Originally stumbled across by K&M Demolition when they were attempting to find safer and more efficient ways of knocking down buildings.

The way it works is that everything has a resonant frequency. When something resonates at it's resonant frequency, it crumbles and falls apart. Using this idea, K&M decided to do some test runs on an old abandoned industrial district to see just how viable a solution it was. After setting up their equipment around the first building, they turned it on.

Of course, they had to sweep multiple frequencies in order to hit all the right resonances of the different compounds and materials that were used in the building's construction, but the equipment was capable of that.

Their first test was a success and the building instantly crumbled into nothing more than a huge pile of different element sands.

Doing multiple more tests, they came across a building that was once used as a rubber factory centuries ago when rubber was still considered a necessity for obsolete automobiles.

Upon doing frequency scanning, they hadn't taken in account the multitudes of reflection that rubber can produce, thus causing some resonance issues. Deciding to just destroy the rubber before the building, they set their frequency scanners to the appropriate frequencies. However, the rubber didn't turn into a pile of sand.

When the rubber was supposed of turn to a pile of debris, it instead vanished, only to appear 100 feet in the air over a donut shop that the current foreman was getting some coffee at.

It was discovered that the frequencies produced happened to also match the same resonant frequencies that the very fabric of space-time dissentigrated, allowing the rubber to slip into a sub-dimension part of the universe, now known as subspace.

A subspace engine is basically just a magnetic resonator, calibrated to the ship's hull it's on. When a pilot wishes to enter subspace, the resonator resonates the hull of the ship to match that of the surrounding space so that space itself will fall apart where the ship is, then instantly reforming again once the disturbance has slipped into subspace. Coordinates are plotted by intricate mapping of the subspace corridors.

Inter-system subspace jumps are a little different, in the fact that a ship must resonate at multiple spacial frequencies in order to get into the inter-system subspacial plane.

Note to the uncommon traveler : Shielding systems do not function in subspace, comms have an extremely increased range, atmosphere is unknown, and in certain parts, some strange creatures have setup hotdog stands in these subspacial voids for those on long jumps across systems, or between systems. However, they charge outrageous prices, so it is advised to pack a lunch if you're going to be gone for long.

The engine fit had gone well, the crew seemed happy and satisfied with the bargain they had made and their ship carried a few of Captain Yangs crew. With the ship gone and no work to do Nicaza found herself sat in what would have been a very old looking office, only with dozens of papers and magazines thrown around.

She was sat on an old chair, her legs up on the old desk as she scanned through an old comic, no laughter seemed to be let loose only a heavy sigh as she flipped the pages. Her hair sat back off of her shoulders revealing her half masked face, a soft beeping could be heard as if she was almost charging something up. It seemed to be an eye almost taking pictures or memorizing the comic strips.

A rather large bang made her jump, though she still had ears she had no sound so a small computer like hearing aid was installed in both ears, only when loud sounds were created did she hear them louder, almost like a cats. The bang seemed to come from the door, Nicaza didn't look round.

"Come in." she replied before turning as she heard the door open.

A rather scruffy looking man entered, he seemed to be dressed in almost rags as if he had been living it rough for years, he was very skinny and his skin barely stretched over his bones. His eyes were a jaw dropping blue though his teeth were old, rotten and missing. He seemed to jump around like a monkey before jumping on the desk in front of her and looking her in the eye.

"I heard you mention Captain Yang, she here is she?" he asked his voice jumpy and rushed, he looked to her like an odd fish before he knelt down and started to fiddle with his long black dreadlocks.

"Depends who wants to see her?" she replied throwing the comic in his face before lifting her legs off the table.

"I am looking for her. Tell her it be Lock. She'll know me, I promise." he flashed a toothless grin at her that made her eye roll.

"In that case you can't see her." she replied and crossed her arms.

"What? Lock be in charge 'til she come back. She hasn't come back in almost 5 years. I be helpless I don't know what to do. My crew, I mean her crew keep gong away on trips."

"So why have you come to me to find her?" Nicaza asked a small grin over her face as she

"I heard you bargain with those space folk, said that Captain Yang would be able to help or something. No? So I followed you and thought I'd ask you."

"Well, what if I said to you that Captain Yang had a freak accident, she doesn't seem to be the same woman any more, you could say she is unrecognisable."

"Not to old Lock she ain't I could point her out easily."

Nicaza laughed before hitting him round the face and standing up.

"You must be blind then, Captain Yang stands before you, she is me I am her, I just happened to get in a little accident, that's all." she laughed again as she saw Locks face, then with her robotic hand she grabbed his collar and drew him close as she stared him in the eye. "I hope you haven't screwed up the past 5 years Lock, otherwise I won't be a happy woman."

Lock sunk down and nodded violently, he was scared, the woman before him was once full of flesh and bone and now she was half that and wires. He began to speak as she placed him back down, her one eye fixing its gaze on him as she wanted to know what had happened while she was gone.