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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:04:45 GMT -5
Orbit Over Paquin
June 15, 2517 – Red Sun
04:39 PM Local Time
8:51 P.M A.S.T
The planet was twisting. It shifted in view as it lifted from the ceiling towards the floor. Around it there were some stars, and the planet itself was the primary makeup of the vision beyond the forward view port. But it wasn’t the planet turning, in fact it was the ship that was coasting toward it spinning so that it may be level when it came in towards the ground. Navigation through space was a very tricky sort of thing, and could make someone very dizzy if they weren’t ready for what they were going to be looking at. One second you see everything right and your mind had come to grips with what was up and what was down, and the next there was suddenly something that was a above you that shouldn’t be. Though direction was a very relative thing in space, you still needed to know whether you were flying at a planet upside down, and correct yourself accordingly. And after seeing it shift for a long period of time, even the most experienced watchers of such things would get sick. This was a main reason why most ships always kept their artificial gravity running, as seeing things float and do things that weren’t natural to planet born bodies could make someone lose their mind.
As the massive orb in front of the ship moved before the occupants of the bridge, one of them moved. Morse walked from where his position was leaning on the back wall towards one of the consoles. ”Keep it level Andy, I want a clear signal.” Morse spoke easily as he came over towards the chair on the right side. He spun it around and sat down in it, and used the remaining momentum from the initial spin to take him to face forward. His finger moved along the console in front of him, selecting to send a call out. After that he logged forward towards the port authority. Moving different things around on the screen and off so that the call would take full priority, Morse straightened up. It was important to at least give some air of authority during these things. It wasn’t so much about being something he wasn’t, as much as it was about making the person on the other side see only the illusion he was putting up. He hit a button and the call went forward.
Morse decided he wanted to stand up for this one, something about doing that just made things seem more comfortable. Just as the call was running through he got up and faced forward towards the screen he was going to take the call through. The facial tracking would find him standing and record him there. As the call switched over Morse was met with a face. He was wearing an Alliance military uniform and was dabbling with something on the console in front of him. Morse waited as the man gave the typical introduction he found in such places, then went himself.
”Makamish Port Authority, requesting permission to dock Mantis T-5 class vessel.” Morse said. He stopped and waited for the response. He didn’t have to actually say anything more then that, because the data would be logged in full when he landed. Till then, he could just run with what he had said, and it wouldn’t be much more then an approval.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:05:20 GMT -5
Corporal Bernard
The screen activated quickly, and on it appeared a man with brown hair and a gray uniform. This was very common of what the first thing people saw when they wanted to land, or at least when they landed with a special request or cargo. The Alliance didn’t pay a whole lot of attention to places like this, but they still kept order there, and so this was a very standard procedure.
”This is Corporal Bernard with Makamish Port Authority. What is your business freighter” The man said. He wore a hat, and looked up from his console as he finished to see the person he was speaking to.
As a response was given, Bernard went back and put something in on his console and looked back once more. The request of dock was a minutely event, though when such requests like the one the man before him had made came, it was usually something more official.
”Transmit ship identification and manifest.” Corporal Bernard responded still looking forward at the screen and shifting his eyes to the left, as there was obviously another screen with data on it there.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:05:38 GMT -5
Morse watched as his words went over to the officer. He knew what was coming, he almost timed mentally the duration it took for each of these people to get the same orders out to him. But he was ready for what was coming and had a transmit program ready. He had set it up before he had even made the call. These things were always the same. He would make his request, sending the idea over that he was on official sort of business, then they would request for his information. After which Morse would utilize his “special treatment” package and everything just slipped in towards his way.
”Transmitting Reserved Capacity Identification Information” Morse responded with a sort of arrogant smile on his face. This was the way it always went. The duty officer would request his information and Morse would send them these codes instead. This is what made him different from the average freighter in the sky. Of course the information contained a bit of his vessels information, some schematic information, even though it was out dated, along with some other bits. But it didn’t give a lot, not even a crew listing. What it did do is giving the Alliance an idea that he was with them, and that he was supposed to coast straight through.
Every single time he sent the codes, Morse found it very ironic that he was holding the equal standing to the soldier. He was on the other side of the line for the entirety of the Unification War. Though he never wore a brown uniform, or anything that much signified he was with the military other then the somewhat military look to it, he still was with them. He believed the same things he did then that he did at the moment he sent the codes, but that didn’t really matter. The worlds were run by who they were run by, and he had to abide by his rules, the same way everyone else had to abide by theirs.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:06:38 GMT -5
Corporal Bernard
The man on the screen, Corporal Bernard, evidently wasn’t used to such statements that were made as he went from looking left to quickly looking at the screen straight ahead. He evidently knew what to do as he moved some things around on the console beneath him. ”Understood Mantis, information received, please stand by.” Bernard moved back down to start working on the information beneath him. He then looked left again. He paused a moment, and went back to moving some things on his console. This took a few more seconds and he looked back up at the left screen again. Finally he stopped moving and turned to face the screen again. ”Information registered Mantis.” He started. He moved something on his console again. ”Please land at Port Authority, pad 43, for vessel inspection.” He finished and moved back towards moving things on his console.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:08:47 GMT -5
Morse had a song run through his mind while he waited. He stopped looking at the screen for a moment and started to mouth some of the words, and his foot tapped once. He only went over a piece of the chorus near the end of the song. Morse was a very musically minded person, often found singing things as he walked, or shooting out song lyrics when he said something. He waited that moment for his request to be accepted and then he’d be on his way down towards the surface. Of course they were in the orbital pull, but they were fairly far out from atmosphere. Morse liked to make the call further out so he wouldn’t have to worry about traffic going in. It was realistically more Andy’s problem then his, but it was Morse’s ship. He didn’t like taking risks with a lot of things, and while he was on the ship, he didn’t want take risks with the ship. His eyes came back to the screen as Corporal Bernard began to speak again.
Then suddenly Morse heard words he had never heard in his life.
”For Vessel Inspection”
It hit Morse like a boulder that had just suddenly been dropped somewhere near his diaphragm. His lip and chin quivered, something it when Morse suffered a loss or saw something that was very bad. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of the information. Never in his decade of running that vessel had he ever heard someone request him land for vessel inspection. During the war they just let him move about as he pleased, and often times they didn’t land anywhere close to a Port Authority back then. Every time since he’d gotten the ship back after war, it had just been “transmit the codes and go”. In his mind he thought that it might be a mistake. But he transmitted the codes, it was ready and prepared in a place where only he could access, and was ready, like a bullet in the chamber of a gun, it was ready to fire when he pulled the trigger. He’d pulled the trigger, but this sounded like the gun hadn’t fired.
”What?” Morse muttered softly, though it wasn’t very loud so it couldn’t be heard. He wasn’t sure what to do, as this had never happened before. There was a time when he’d thought he’d need a way to talk his way threw it, but years of having nothing change, that plan had gone away. At that moment dozens of things slipped through his mind as to what he should do, and why he had to keep going. His face didn’t move much at all. He tried to keep it looking like nothing was wrong, though his face did look a bit different. He pulled his lips over his teeth, and began to move them over each other. His head turned, almost subconsciously. He scanned over with his eyes what was in front of him. His vision was a bit out of focus, which was something people did when they were deep in thought. But his eyes rested on one thing.
To right there was his AR-24s, the assault rifle which he liked so much. It in and of itself seemed to embody every reason why he shouldn’t land. Weapons like that were typically frowned upon, especially by Federal Authorities. But it was one of many that he had, along with a number of other, not legally friendly items. All of those things, combined with a large number of stolen mining robots which now resided in his hold, made everything that had been going through his mind stop.
”You sure?” is all Morse managed to say after his pause, as it seemed to embody everything that was going through his mind at that moment.
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:09:18 GMT -5
Corporal Bernard
Corporal Bernard had gone back to working on his console. He was moving things around quickly, obviously being very well versed in what he was doing. He didn’t look back up at all, he seemed a bit lost in the amount of work he was doing. The way space ports were on planets, especially the popular ones, he was always going to be busy. That day, the next day, and the day before, there was never a lull. Ships were always flying in and out and nothing really ever changed. Of course a few moments before he’d seen something that he wasn’t used to, but had dealt with it, and didn’t need to take much more note of it.
His eyebrows came together with confusion when he heard the question posed to him. He wasn’t used to something like that coming through. Generally people were very cordial and official when they spoke, and practically read what they had to say off of a script. This person had asked a question he wasn’t expecting, and it made Bernard look up.
”…Uh…” the sound came from Bernards mouth as he worked towards his response. He was less confused at this point, he just presumed that the vessels representative was requesting informal clarification. He may have been one of those older commanders that was getting hit with a regulation he wasn’t used to. This wasn’t uncommon so Bernard checked the left screen again.
”Mantis T-5, your ident information.” the man recited looking at it the information in front of him. ”Yes, you’re requested to come in for vessel inspection.” Bernard said, then going back to his console
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Post by Bishop Morse on May 6, 2012 11:09:53 GMT -5
Morse didn’t move. He was like a prey animal in the dark of night that had just gotten caught in a hunters search light. He had absolutely no notion of what to do. Even in the war this was a common thing. Typically there was no way to fight through it, because they were always outnumbered or outgunned. This situation he didn’t see an ability to argue with the Corporal. The moment he’d mentioned his rank Morse knew that he wasn’t going to be reasoned with. Such low ranks were given limited authority and less hard work. Morse started trying to look for a way through it all.
BRIBE HIM
The words shot through his head, and he immediately tried to see the merits in it. He could get away with it, land, and this whole incident would be forgotten. But then the reality slipped into his mind. Morse had seen that done before, and the Alliance wasn’t reasoned with so easily. He’d never make it to give the guy the money before he was arrested for the crime of bribery.
FIGHT THEM OFF
Morse came to the thought that he had a lot of very offensive hardware. If those Purplebellies at the port wanted to look through his ship they’d have to get by multiple lines of fire. Most of them probably hadn’t seen any action in the war, and he had front line soldiers with a lot of equipment. It could be a good strong stand, and maybe he could make enough noise to get help. But no one would help, and standing to fight only worked if you could ambush the adversary, at least with his form of fighting. That was what the cavalry had taught him. And he’d be overwhelmed and brought down within a matter of minutes.
RUN AWAY
This one was something that Morse hadn’t ever truly forgotten. Really when the other things left, it was what was still there, and he’d always been considering it. He had a very fast ship, and a good advantage of not having anyone around him. But he couldn’t risk landing and getting into a situation that he couldn’t get out of. Parkhill was dead, his leverage was gone, and now he was finally being called in. This left only one real alternative.
”Oh, actually, it looks like were at the wrong planet.” Morse said quickly. ”We’re lookin’ for Quinpac, sorry for the mix up, bye.” Morse finished and cut the signal. He didn’t want to wait for any sort of response, it wasn’t the appropriate time, and he wouldn’t know how to respond. Morse turned around and stopped a moment. Andy said something to him but the words just went into his right ear and out the other. The only thing that Morse really thinking of was that he knew that the day had finally come. ”Andy, head back to Kalidasa, hard burn.” Morse finished walking off the bridge. He didn’t have to say anymore. When he called for hard burn, like during the war, it meant start running and don’t stop till he said so, or they ran out of fuel.
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