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+--- Thread: SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy (/showthread.php?tid=205596)
SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy - Stoner_Steve - 11-09-2024
The Devil's Due: a ship, a cult, and a very opinionated parrot. With Goodman's Eris-fueled visions and Polly's questionable life advice, it's a wonder they haven't crashed into a black hole yet.
Quick Facts:
Class: "Bulwark" Bristol-Kress Heavy Explorer
Launched: 07.11.834
Builder: Bristol Constructor Yards
Maximum Crew Size (Necessary Crew): 150 (50)
Endurance:
3 Months Food/Water
2 Months Fuel at 2 sorties/day
Powerplant:2 Months Fuel at 2 sorties/day
2xHGW-Y7 Primary Fusion Reactors
2xFHF-D7 Supplementary Fusion Reactors
Total Power Capacity: 4,500,000 u at 32,500 u/s2xFHF-D7 Supplementary Fusion Reactors
Payload: 4,270 Metric Tons
Speed:
100 m/s at economical speed
200 m/s at maximum output
415 m/s at Cruise
Defensive Systems:200 m/s at maximum output
415 m/s at Cruise
Unknown
Secondary Vessels:"SLRC-RS>Gopher" - Edison MV-422 "Surveyor" Civilian Light Miner
"ROD|2218", "ROD|2219" - M5-U48 Mining and Cargo Drones
"ROD|2218", "ROD|2219" - M5-U48 Mining and Cargo Drones
RE: SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy - Stoner_Steve - 11-10-2024
Sean stepped onto the bridge, the cool, sterile air brushing past him. The vessel, the Devil's Due, was still new, the gleam of fresh metal and the scent of oil sharp in the air. Many of the secondary consoles were still shrouded in protective film, a stark contrast to the worn equipment he was used to from the Gryphon.
"Morning, crew," he greeted the Bristol technicians, their rigid posture and sterile efficiency a stark contrast to the chaotic energy he was used to on the Gryphon. He couldn't wait to replace them with a real crew, a motley assortment of misfits and dreamers, more accustomed to the chaos of the cosmos.
The helmsman, a young woman with a serious expression, nodded. "We're ready to initiate the final burn to Freeport 11, Captain. Estimated travel time is thirteen hours."
Sean nodded, his gaze scanning the bridge. "Activate the autopilot," he ordered, his voice echoing in the silent chamber.
Just as the ship began to hum with the activation of the autopilot, a raucous squawk cut through the silence. "Auto-pilot no!" A colorful parrot, perched atop a console, regarded Sean with a critical eye.
Sean blinked, his eyebrow twitching. "Polly, really? Now?"
The parrot squawked in response, its beady eyes fixed on the viewport. "Auto-pilot no," it insisted, its voice surprisingly clear and authoritative.
RE: SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy - Stoner_Steve - 11-14-2024
A few hours passed, the tension on the bridge palpable. The parrot, Polly, had proven to be an unexpected source of anxiety. Its intermittent squawks, warning of unseen dangers, had kept the crew on edge. The usual routine of the autopilot was disrupted, replaced by a tense vigil.
Then, as if on cue, the universe decided to throw a curveball. A meteor shower, a sudden and violent storm of cosmic debris, erupted from the void, hurtling towards the Devil's Due. The crew, still at their stations, reacted swiftly. Sean's voice, calm yet urgent, cut through the chaos. "Divert secondary engine power to shields!"
The ship shuddered as the meteoroids struck its hull. Sparks flew, alarms blared, and the bridge crew scrambled to maintain control. Yet, amidst the chaos, there was a sense of satisfaction. The parrot, its mission complete, squawked contentedly, as if it had orchestrated the entire event.
Finally, as the last meteor streaked past, the Devil's Due emerged from the storm, battered but unbroken. The docking port of Freeport 11 loomed ahead, a beacon of safety. The crew, exhausted but relieved, prepared for the final leg of their journey.
RE: SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy - Stoner_Steve - 11-16-2024
The air was thick with the scent of ozone and the hum of machinery. Sean stood on the loading dock, a mountain of iridium ore looming before him. Two zoner merchants, each with their own spiel, vied for his attention. "Highest quality, best price," one claimed. "Direct from the asteroid fields," the other countered.
Sean sighed. He could spend hours haggling, weighing the pros and cons of each deal. But he had a better idea. A mischievous grin spread across his face as he called out, "Polly!"
A colorful blur darted out from the cargo hold, landing on Sean's shoulder. "Alright, bird brain," he said, pointing at the two zoners. "Pick one."
The parrot squawked and hopped from shoulder to shoulder, examining the two merchants with a critical eye. After a moment of deliberation, it pointed a beady eye at one of the zoners. The chosen zoner beamed, while the other slumped in disappointment.
"Well, there you have it," Sean announced. "The Oracle has spoken."
The Bristol crew, watching the bizarre spectacle, exchanged amused glances. They were eager to return to the safety and routine of their shipyard. The Consortium, with its chaotic missions and eccentric captains, was a far cry from the structured world they were accustomed to.
RE: SLRC-BCV>Devil's_Due and The Parrot's Prophecy - Stoner_Steve - 11-22-2024
The Bristol crew, their faces a mix of relief and disappointment, packed up their belongings. Their time on the Devil's Due was coming to an end, and they were eager to return to the familiar confines of Bristol Shipyards.
As the last crate was lifted off the ship, Sean's crew, a motley assortment of misfits and dreamers, arrived. They were a far cry from the rigid, by-the-book Bristol technicians. Their laughter and boisterous chatter filled the air, a stark contrast to the previous silence. This crew, loyal to Sean and the spirit of the Gryphon, had been carefully selected. Sean had used a combination of persuasion, promises, and a bit of bribery to lure them away from their various assignments and bring them together once more.
To celebrate the handover, Sean had organized a unique event: a musical chairs grand championship. The crew, both old and new, gathered on the bridge, their eyes sparkling with anticipation. As the music blared, they circled the chairs, their movements a chaotic ballet.
The competition was fierce, with each participant determined to claim the final seat. The parrot, Polly, perched on the console, watched the spectacle with a mix of amusement and disdain. As the music slowed and stopped, the crew scrambled for the remaining chairs. In the end, it was a young, wide-eyed technician who emerged victorious.
With the festivities over, Sean turned his attention to the ship, his new command. As he stepped onto the bridge. The future was uncertain...