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Active Plots (Alphabetical) - Updated 8/21/2010 |
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Daireem - Awaystation |
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Anatoly Drifter 2/1/2009 2:47:51 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 6 | Space Debris and Goo ((OOC: I'm looking for one or two players to join me here. Feel free to jump in! )) Ahhh, space. Such a vast area of nothing. There were the shiny stars, the nebulae, signalling the birth of new stars, the asteroids, the small ship... A small ship? Indeed, it was there. Floating quietly on its course, wherever it was. The positional lights were on, the engines looked untouched, albeit turned off, the hull was intact, yet there was something odd about this craft. It was a Spacehawk model, but it looked different, transformed. Some parts were shiny and looked almost as new, yet some gave the impression they were ready to fall apart. But any doubts about the spaceworthiness of the strange craft would dissapear as soon as it began a smooth docking approach towards the refueling station R25-D7. "Welcome to space station R25 dash D7!" It was an automated service speaking on the communications channel that was opened with the approaching craft. "Your request to land has been granted. Our systems have taken control of your ship's computer for an easy and secure docking. Please note you can only safely abort automatic docking at a distance of 2 kilometres or more." There was a slight pause and then a bunch of commercials started playing of what one could buy on the station. The speaker went silent with a remote command. "I'm not going to listen to all that rubbish." There was nobody at the controls of the craft. In fact, even the command seats were missing. In their stead, a large robot was standing there patiently. With the main engines offline, there was no rumble present, only a slight dripping noise as strange goo seeped out of Anatoly's left arm. Alerted by the dripping, the robot's head spun quickly, servos whirring. Its human-visible-spectrum sensor focused on the leakage, staring at it for a full second, as if it was pondering whether it was worth its attention or not. Obviously not as the chasis shifted around, heading towards the cargo. Albeit almost new, Anatoly didn't care much for the shiny metallic flooring of the cargo bay, for it was quickly smudged with oil and other substances. He had a couple of additional things to sell, which he stripped from his ship. Well, technically, it wasn't his... "Yes. Yes, it is mine. I've earned it, if nothing else," he thought as he glanced at the two neatly stacked metal crates. The parts wouldn't make him rich, but they would at least provide him with some essential money to pay for fuel and other things. Meanwhile, the ship had docked and the bay was pressurised, something the robot could care less for, but of course... They wouldn't really open their doors to the void. He picked up the two metal crates, which were now connected with magnetic straps and held in his arm, and walked out of the craft. A dirtily-clad man was already approaching him with a surprised look on his face. Of course he was expecting a human... Or something that breathes, anyway. "Of course..." As always, he would play a service robot fulfilling his seclusive owner's commands. Why would this imaginary owner not want to show his face on the station? Well... He had... a.. er.. Ahh, he'd make up something! |
Anatoly Drifter 2/5/2009 4:18:14 PM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 6 | RE: Space Debris and Goo This particular docking bay was designed for smaller ships and freighters. Still, it was fairly large, with a few extendable catwalks to allow access from the landed ships to the interior of the station, docking magnetic clamps to keep the craft in position, confusing plumbing of unkown purpose on walls... Currently, there was only one ship docked in this bay and its 'crewman' was walking towards the station entrance. The robot's heavy legs echoed through the area as the tripod-shaped feet hit the metal, yet despite their apparent weight, the movement was smooth and accurate. "Robot, identify yourself." It was standard procedure to register all robots and androids currently on the station. However, it was a little more than just strange to see one exiting a spaceship on its own, without the owner in sight. The large chasis stopped about a metre away from the human, the latter taking a small step back, as if he thought he would get stomped. "ID check: Maintenance and utility robot GD-550, custom model 1, owner Darren Stahl. ID end. This is a pre-recorded message: To the relevant port authority - I'm currently unable to disembark from my spacship and have sent my robot to do the menial tasks of trading. Once it will have fulfilled its programming, it will return to the ship. Thanks. End of pre-recorded message." The pre-recorded part had a distinctively human voice, eventhough, unbeknownst to the human guard, it was synthesised. Anatoly wanted it to sound as if his 'owner' had actually recorded a message explaining what the mindless robot had to do. The rest was fairly bland and sounded unsofisticated. Much like a utility bot with limited voice systems would sound like. Oh how he perfected this tapestry of intrigue! The human tapped something into his holo-pad and nodded. "Okay. GD-550 is granted entrance to the station." He talked slowly and clearly, lest the robot's poor interaction systems misinterpret his sentence. The response, however, was swift: "Entrance granted. Confirmed. Warning, robot moving." With that, the heavy legs moved forward again, heading for the large bulkhead. The spacecraft's doors closed and Anatoly hoped nobody would pay it any interest. The bulkhead was essentialy a series of massive doors designed to cut off certain parts of the station in an event of a hull breach. Currently, they were opened and the robot was free to head to the market, container in hand. |
Anatoly Drifter 4/16/2009 11:07:50 AM Level: 1 Experience: 0 Total Posts: 6 | RE: Space Debris and Goo ((I'm all alone here! Seriously, anyone, please join! )) The first bulkhead compartment was open and the robot stepped inside. While he could mimic the radio signals of maintenace bots, which would open him the way, it would be foolish to attract attention, so he had to deal with this the old-fashioned way. However, these bulkheads were not designed to be operated by autonomous constructs which were not a part of the station, so Anatoly had to step over to the control panel designed for humans. Luckily, eventhough the model was old, this panel already had a computer port installed. His arm, never letting the crates go, came close, revealing a small port on a thin musclewire. This piece of technology, with the help of his on-board nanobots, allowed him to direct the wire freely, as if it were a muscle, connecting it to the port. A few brief moments later, after waiting for the feedback from the control panel, he came to a conclusion that the port's software was never installed - or was erased - and was thus inoperable. "Curses." The wire retracted and it all looked as if he would have to figure out a way to press the touchscreen commands with his great robotic clamps. But just then, the outer bulkhead doors started closing, initiating the decontamination procedure, which, from his deductive observation, was due for maintenance a couple of decades ago. The inner bulkhead doors opened with a squeak. "All right, it's through. Do me a favour and tell the owner to get his arse off his ship himself next time. I've got better things to do than open doors for bots." It was obvious the man who greeted Anatoly had been watching him standing in the bulkhead room and called in to his collegue to start the cycle. This collegue, who had "better things to do", promptly sat down on a dirty chair and continued reading his sleazy magazine, not giving the robot another glance. Anatoly didn't pay much attention to his porter either. He proceeded down the long well-lit hallway. At the end, the corridor turned right into a large hangar, where the scene was much more different from the lonely ship hangar, back where he came from. This place was bustling with people of all sorts, mostly shady. And eventhough this station was controlled by the law, it was obvious one could get a little more for their tape than just the standard items. This, in turn, also meant there would be buyers who would be looking for more... exotic things. Exactly what he needed. Now the only challenge was how to properly barter, as people wouldn't think a mere robot would be capable of that. But he had that figured out. Now to find a buyer... |
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