The Wayfarer (previously L-44-VVA) was initially purchased in 828 A.S by a young researcher called Vincent Abrams in order to serve as a means of transportation for materials and goods required to supply his very home. It also served as a mobile research vessel but never got to see action outside of moving supplies roughly once or twice a month
After an unfortunate turn of events in which the researcher was presumably killed, both the Station and the vessel itself were left to rust in the Hudson system with their doors sealed. In time the droids aboard the Station had slowly withered away from lack of power or the base falling apart. It was only in 829 A.S when the Recall Protocol was activated by an unknown source, moment in which all remaining droids had powered The Wayfarer's engines once more to reach the signal and complete their task. Packed with almost every useful trinket and data Vincent had found regarding "The Triage" or "The Prophet Anomaly, the Dunlin had become a flying vault adequately modified for deep exploration and research.
Months after the initial Recall Protocol, the RV-Wayfarer has become nothing short of a flying hazard. It's new (old) captain, Caliban, has sacrificed most of the ship's crew quarters in exchange for space to store dangerous materials including, but not limited to several Nomad Power Cells, highly reactive samples from the Dyson Sphere, Nomad Remains as well as preserved remains of a large Sentinel warform. Despite all of these, The Wayfarer has remained one of the only places a certain mercenary can call home.
ROSTER: 50 Droids
-Research Droids: R-1 to R-5
"Units designed specifically for the purpose of safely studying alien remains, tissues and potentially dangerous artefacts."
-Security Droids: S-1 to S-15
"Lightly armed machines designed to carry out security onboard. They also individually man the Dunlin's turrets when necessary."
-Tech Droids: T-1 to T-5
"Designed for maintenance and repairs, the engineer droids are invaluable to keeping the vessel in mint condition. They can go where no human would normally be able to."
-Misc. Droids: J-1 to J-5
"Usually seen cleaning the ship, these machines also carry out secondary tasks such as managing supplies."
-Elite Droids: ED-1 "Isaz" Commando Frame; ED-5 "Uruz" Heavy Loader Frame; ED-8 "Perth" Stealth Frame; ED-12 "Ullr" Soldier Frame; ED-22 "Seidr" Research Droid
"Unlike the rest of their brethren, the so called 'Elite Droids' are diverse in both equipment and their very own personality. Each of these units have their own specific background from the moment they were found and up to the present day where they relentlessly carry out the lone merc's orders.
-Medical Droids: M-1 to M-5
"As their name implies. These machines specialise in saving both organic and inorganic lives. Human or machine."
INVENTORY:
»Item No.1 & Item No.2
Two thermonuclear bombs obtained through various dealings. One's manufacturer is Kemwer Munitions, while the other has been developed by APM. Only one of them remained active and serves as a failsafe in case The Wayfarer falls in the wrong hands or is compromised by Nomad infection.
»Item No.8
A near perfect imitation of Caliban's former self in the form of an android developed by FuTech Innovations and modified by 'Ampere' to serve as a secondary body to be controlled from a distance. Mainly used for diplomatic meetings, this model lacks the greater offensive capabilities advertised by FuTech due to software compatibility issues.
NOTE: User must undergo psychiatric evaluation after every use. Episodes of personality dissociation may occur.
»Item No.26
Dubbed as 'MALWARE' or 'AMPERE'. A semi-sentient Gammu AI consciousness harvested from Caliban's vessel roughly three months after upgrading said ship with poorly understood Gammu technology - developed by The Core - and subsequently 'tamed' by Lane Hackers. Highly adaptive and reclusive, 'AMPERE' is both an asset and an enigma.
»Item No.32
Caliban, also known as 'Vincent Abrams'. Mercenary, scientist - posthuman. After his organic carcass gave in to excessive damage, Caliban resorted to cybernetic augmentations. In the end most organic components have been replaced by higher-performing hardware and thus effectively becoming more machine than human. The current frame values a blend of brute force and highly sophisticated cortex chip to aid with electronic warfare.
NOTE: Just like his ship, Caliban uses a combination of augments from different manufacturers:
A manifestation of a Nomad Amalgam known as The Gardener. Not contained. Highly dangerous. It serves as Caliban's link to the Nomads belonging to the 'Mainshare'.
NOTE: Containment procedures are underway, but lack efficiency. The strategy of sacrificing The Wayfarer via Item No.2 is not null.
»Item No.52
'52' is composed of a 'battery device' and five separate hybrid weapons. A rudimentary approach to employing some of The Wild's own weapons a previously unknown species of aliens that relate to the Nomads (known as 'Sentinels'). Highly unstable and prone to periodic malfunction.
»MODEL: 90-ARKM-N9V4 "Lurker" Rheinland Very Heavy Fighter
»POWERCORE1: ARKM-PW3V.4(v3)
»POWERCORE#2: [ERROR: UNKNOWN DEVICE CONNECTED]
»SCANNER ARRAY: Minified Spyglass Scanner
»ELECTRONICS: GMU.AI/APM Electronics
»ENGINE: OMG-BLU-210 Engine Array
»SHIELDING: Adapted AI Shields (Experimental)
»THRUSTER: Adapted AI Thrusters (Experimental)
»WEAPONRY: [ERROR:'Item No.52'UNRECOGNIZED]
»SHIP NAME: Caliban
»TRANSPONDER: None
A salvaged 90-ARKM-N9 "Valkyrie" Rheinland Very Heavy Fighter from Bering whose chassis was put back into a more manageable state by Bristol Constructions and Manufacturing, now belonging to the lone mercenary known as "Caliban". The hull has later been modified by its new Pilot to commemorate another Valkyrie's death. Vincent's. A scientist who had always yearned for one, yet the very day he had his wish granted was the day his own life had come to an end - possibly granting another's wish. It was the last reminder to the person Caliban used to be, forever gone and now replaced by a new ship bearing small mementos on the hull, taking back to the days when he used to love. To feel. To explore beyond what anyone could have imagined. A futile attempt to remain unchanged in a constantly changing world.
The new Valkyrie still holds the hull plate indicating its manufacturing date: 822 A.S. It also holds additional plates with different etchings into them covered by burn marks all welded on top of the original. The ship's internals are nothing to what a standard issue variant would have. The usual military-grade electronics were originally missing as were the sensors, scanner and weapons. Those are replaced by compatible aftermarket components which are cheaper to maintain, but also offering a weaker performance overall. The only high-quality internal part of the ship is the powerplant refurbished and put back into function by ALG in an under-the-table deal between them and Caliban.
As of late 829 A.S through 830 A.S the ship has seen multiple improvements across the board. The powerplant has been optimized by the user to match the performance of a newly built variant, with small improvisations to energy management. The Scanner Array and Engines have also been replaced with highly advanced variants, vastly improving the ship's performance during assignments in the more harsh areas of Sirius.
These upgrades have not stopped, however. As time passed so have relations changed. In some cases they've improved. In others: they devolved into plain hostility. Over time, "Caliban" has reintroduced Military-grade hardware to the ship to make up for irreplaceable parts such as the powercore and general updates to the cockpit. More recent events have unfortunately pushed the pilot towards implementing what can be considered as "scorned technology", officially tarnishing the ship's reputation as a symbol of 'rebirth'. It has gained a new name as this new iteration has passed the final safety trials (although barely): 90-ARKM-N9v4 "Lurker" Rheinland Very Heavy Fighter.
It represents a haunting approach to the term of "Chimaera". A blasphemous blend of different types and grades of human hardware, Core-tainted Gammu technology and the some of The Wild's first attempts to emulate their masters' fangs acquired through unknown means.
The air was cold aboard the Wayfarer. Deafening silence spreading across the few hallways it had. It was only the clanking noises of the Security Droids patrolling the ship and the metal pipes creaking quietly, merging with the eerie ambience. Several days passed since the incident in Alberta. Three lost causes searching for a way out of a grave that would fit each of them perfectly. For Ego there was no grave, though. Ego was born out of necessity and desperation to hide from Death itself. The unjust arm of The Order's shadows. He was meant to lose the coin toss between himself and, of course, also himself. He won instead.
Vincent had died his last death in Alberta - his beloved Valkyrie shattered into pieces, staring at the destiny he was forced into with no way of turning back. His soul claimed by the void he vowed to stay away from. His mind succumbing to stress, anguish and horror. He tried to make himself a new person - lead a new life. A life without the Nomads. And he did it at the expense of his own self fading away for another to take place. Still him, but also not him.
He survived the ordeal while losing one of the last memories of himself, followed by infighting between himself, Garmr, and Raven. Fate had spared him only this once with few injuries to his body with the exception of his cybernetics - replacements to his right arm and leg. Two of the things he had lost in front of his former home. It took several days for Ego to be put back on his feet, and another one to rebuild the helmet that covers the face of a dead man. One last gift he could offer to himself was the RV-Wayfarer through the "Recall Protocol". One last piece of his past he didn't want to lose.
Now Ego had to focus on the present and the future. The Dunlin did not come empty handed, but he also needed Fighter. The cockpit portion of the Valkyrie survived the incident well within Garmr's cargo hold. Unfortunately he needed virtually everything else. Bering. he grunted, sitting against the cockpit of his former Valkyrie, holding a small hull plate in his hand. Its color was covered by black sooth and burnt by plasma, yet the writing was still visible. A memento to his loss. Your orders, Master Vincent? the droid's voice was crackling, covered in very slight static as it spoke. It was one of the Research droids doubling as the commanding crew of the vessel. An identification plate above the machine's optics read: "R-1". Ego did not reply immediately. Delete all entries regarding "Vincent Abrams". Add "Ego" as the owner. Create new entry for "Ego" - Captain of the RV-Wayfarer. he paused for a second, locking eyes with the droid's optics noticing how it was processing the commands. R-1 stared forward as it complied, taking a rough estimate of 20 seconds before directing his optics back at Ego. Done. Your orders, Master Ego?
Set course for Bering. Ego resumed before gently placing the hull plate against the ravaged cockpit and leaving towards the Command Deck. R-1 looked quietly at the plate, scanning it carefully before following the "new" Captain.
A dim blue light flickered on the ceiling. Two neon lights laying a cold blue hue over Ego's exposed skin. He didn't bother to wear his helmet or usual trenchcoat within the confines of his home. The chair he stood on was facing a computer with too many icons to count, left open for hours on end with no regard to the hardware's well being. He was staring at it for the same amount of time it was on with almost no pause in between. The amnesiac held on a picture of himself and Raven during one of their hang-out sessions on Curacao. An emotionless expression covered what Ego truly felt - guilt, anger and sadness all gathered in a giant mess.
Screw you. his words dripped with poison as he locked onto the one-eyed woman in the picture. A hate which built up for months, even years if he could recall. He remembers the times he wanted to be alone. Vaguely, yet what was left had pressed him for what it felt like forever. The young man slid the picture to the side of the desk facing downwards, before turning his eyes to the blue neon lights. Open first log. seconds passed before he continued. Maxwell. One of Bristol's employees. He responded to my request to get another Valkyrie. With some haggling I got him to slide the powerplant components for the ship. The ship? he sighed The ship will come monday. It costed me a fortune to get the deal going. My bank account is almost dry, so I can't take up on unnecessary expenses. the chair rolled closer to the desk. Ego lifted his right arm - a cybernetic limb with almost all of its artificial skin torn, ripped to shreds. Teal, dirty synthetic tendons covering the skeletal frame had gone up to his shoulder where burnt metal and human skin entwined. An imperfect merge done out of desperation - now a reminder. There was a contraption stuck to his upper arm. Crude, standing out. There was a meter attached to what seemed to be a slightly elongated half-empty flask of a bright orange liquid and a set of tubes attached to the limb, heading upwards toward the shoulder which they dug in. The apparatus hissed as it injected the orange hued contents of the small flask, effectively emptying it. Ego left out a relieved groan as he took out the empty flask, tossing it into the nearby trash can. Moments later he slid another one from his pants' pocket jamming it into the apparatus.
Urgh... a brief pause Radoxol. Siara's "medicine" to the radiation I've been exposed to in Alberta. I'm cursed to use this from now on if I want to live. he leaned on the chair I just need the Valkyrie, and then I'll leave this place. Leave everything behind...
Hey boss. We've moored with Bristol Bay. Are you sure this thing is supposed to fly? We're towing it right now and all. The engineering team will try and make the powerplant functional again. It'll take some time from what they say, though. Without concrete data they'll have to analyze each component and figure out where it goes. I wasn't built for this type of work, but holy sh*t it sounds hard to do. Better hope ALG picks up on the deal, or else you're still going to wait a while before you can actually get back into space.
In the meantime you should concern yourself with the odd coordinates we keep receiving from an unknown source. Last one was to Omicron Lost. Minutes ago we received another leading to virtually nowhere. We don't need this, boss.
90-ARKM-N9 "Valkyrie" Heavy Fighter Chassis received. Conducted repairs on powerplant - 22% to 55%. Unable to continue - Lack of data. Sensor array added - CzurAPT v3.2.3, latest. Used salvaged weaponry from Point Alpha, Hudson System. Must be coupled to a a powerplant for evaluation. Used "BW_3" Communications Array - outdated hardware, new drivers not supported. Engine array fully restored - standard VP-E9 MOX Intermix Chamber. Received data of a functional powerplant arriving in an unspecified amount of hours. Standing by.
Frigate status less than optimal. Daily checkup in engine rooms #1 and #2 executed with no complications. Engine #3 logs report catastrophic failure. Detailed evaluation show inconclusive data to such claim. No visible damage detected - Engine functional. Engine #4 logs are blank - component functional.
We are still investigating the unknown source of coordinates.
Final set of components received. Refurbished powerplant compatible with 90-ARKM-N9 "Valkyrie" Heavy Fighter. Negligible wear and tear. Previous powerplant (55% Functionality) sent to workshop for further repairs and usage in case of emergency. Salvaged Weaponry coupled with new powerplant. Results are unsatisfactory - targeting systems are not compatible. Power output registered at 75%. Shields status nominal. Thrusters status nominal. Sensors and Communications array are green. Various hull components replaced as requested. Ship functional - recommendation is to not overwork the powerplant. Readings suggest mild instability.
I took the Valkyrie for a spin today. I said to myself I won't be visiting Liberty again, but as always I never listen - not even to myself. Things had begun to quickly go downhill starting with Shikoku. A Nomad had appeared on my radar and what do I know? The next second it stands by my side just following me around. Until I shake it off. It started firing projectiles akin to human missiles.
I took what was left of of the Nomad and bolted to Noshima, then back to Dresden. I didn't know what to do with the "scrap" at the time, so saving them up for later - someone more knowledgeable than me in science for example - would be a much better choice. I was intercepted by the LSF, though. And since I didn't want to make enemies in Liberty, I just had to turn those over. Of course...that was not all it. There was also Him. The bastard I've seen in Alberta right before I got downed by Garmr, Hemlocke, whatever that Dog wants to be named now. He came with friends, too. Friends which I took down together with the local authorities. Before they could realize it I nabbed a new set of remains and flew off into the Badlands. I hope they didn't notice. Well, they didn't. Because I came back from Dresden later on to find a different environment.
So...back to New York. The Badlands, right? When I returned there was already a concerning amount of Liberty Navy in the region, surrounding the Anomaly next to the former Ithaca Research Station. I made my way through closer to the Anomaly - kept my distance, by the way - and witnessed the Navy shoot down a ship sitting inside the Ithaca Anomaly. It got shot down eventually, sure. Then they started babbling about the Akhetaten being lost. The conversation they've had was hazy, chaotic. I could barely hear my own thoughts over the nonsense they spewed. I got them to listen to my advice somehow; I don't know how, really. I calibrated my Matrix to resonate with the Anomaly and took another Navy Fighter with me - Umbral One was his callsign. We ended up in an otherworldly System...(it had a Sun, so it might be one.)...and made our way to The Akhetaten's location. The crew must've been dumbstruck or something. People were getting concerned on the other side and these pricks cared more about taking scans of the Dark Matter Storm than saving their asses. Eventually I got them out and ended up in Sigma-17.
Of course...from there things took an odd turn. The Jump Drive the Akhetaten used malfunctioned or something, because instead of going to New York as planned I ended up in Kepler.
Sure, I returned back to New York...eventually, anyway. I ran into this guy called "Marc Remington" and his friend whose name I do not know. The ship was called "L.O.S.T". They were either dumb or brave enough to pay me 10,000,000 Credits just to send them in the same place The Akhetaten was in. I said no, but...I needed the money to fix my ship. And that Commander Uhmen might not be virtuous enough to pay for my help. Or any of the participating Navy for that matter. So I sent the two civilians to the same hellhole. Of course, I discovered that every other Navy that was there before I left also went through. Idiots...sending three expensive warships in a place they knew jack sh*t about. Their funeral, I guess.
While at it, I tried to activate the Anomaly once more - a third time. The results were unexpected. Like...very. And I met too many contacts on my radar for my liking. The place seems oddly familiar though. Was I here before? What did I do here? I couldn't tell at the time. I scouted around with several dozen Nomads breathing down my neck and found a Nomad Power Cell stuck inside an asteroid. I yanked it out and made a run for the only way out - an already active Alien Jump Gate. It was a nightmare to get through all the Nomads - almost didn't make it out, really. I got back to Dresden and placed the second Nomad Cell in containment. Now I have two of them...what the hell do I do?
I need to get in contact with The Akhetaten and that guy named Marc. Make sure both are alright. The last thing I need right now is the Navy officials wanting my head for losing their precious ship. Well...they might have questions anyway.
Incident report. RV-Wayfarer was ordered to relocate from Dresden to Frankfurt - vicinity of Bruchsal Base (aprox. 18km away). Navigation systems glitched out, re-arranging waypoints to a location far from Frankfurt. Ship main reactor malfunctions 10 minutes and 22 seconds later - signs of reactor instability up until that point. Ship stabilized after 31 minutes. Relocation continued. T-1 and T-5 are investigating.
[WARNING]
Energy surge in Research Wing (Section A) for the duration of the event.
Maintenance report. Ego returned from Liberty - highlighted issues regarding powerplant instability and engine malfunction. Coupling to the weapons array had been done incorrectly - awaiting fix. Power distribution poorly optimized. T-3 and T-4 will proceed to fix existing issues.
Ego sits on a metal chair which matches the desk made of the same metal. He holds both hands on the desk, pressing this metallic thumb against every other finger from the same hand in a fluid motion. Tired eyes lock on one of the only objects that were left on the desk: a scratched monitor transmitting live video feed from various cameras spread across the Dunlin. Non-Autonomous droids carrying menial tasks throughout the dump Ego calls home. It was his home, though. Only his, because he wouldn't let anyone else aboard.
Open personal log-
His laid back posture breaks as a shiver creeped down his spine. Like a murderer's cold knife teasing its victim, before landing the final blow. A slightly autotuned feminine voice leaves a low, near-playful giggle. A gloved hand touches Ego's shoulder moving down to his arm.
I still think you're in need of help. a short pause Just not mine. her breath drew closer. Her perfume becoming stronger with it. Did you write down what he said?
Her words are mesmerizing. A soothing voice long forgotten, bastardized by the passage of time to a state of unrecognizable mess. His words struggle to leave his mouth at first as if being strangled by the one sitting behind him. But she wouldn't. Her gloved hand remains by his side, almost pushing him to speak.
"Listen to the place. Places." he says reluctantly, looking down at the floor with eyes drowned in sorrow. He turns the chair towards her, determined to see her face just this once. A wall stares him down. "Why won't you let me remember you?"
He gets up on his feet, leaning on the desk as he does akin to an old sack of bones. But he isn't old. He knows he isn't, but he doesn't know how old he is either. Nobody asks him that. Everyone asks him why is he so distant. Apathetic. He doesn't know the answer to that either. Her voice grows distant along the hallway linking to his quarters, echoing words once said that serve as nothing more but a memory.
Areyoustillalive?
Her silhouette floats away along the hallway facing away from Ego, vanishing through the wall in a smog of purple cloud and leaving nothing behind. The scent of her perfume still lingered for a few seconds as he slowly walked towards the same wall. It soon disappearing, too.
No. a slight tremble in his voice. He says something else, but the helmet drowns it all like it did many other words he longed to say.
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
I couldn't sleep. Kind of counterproductive since I've returned home to do that exact thing. Lack of sleep made me see things, though. I almost saw her. Just a silhouette with a dead voice true, but the smell the- the...her touch and everything? It felt so real. Why can't I remember her? I keep trying, but I just suck at it...
I didn't want to stay home after that, so I left to do something. Anything. What I did, though? I shot down some Corsairs, Unioners and a Freelancer. The Military paid me to join the fight. Later on a Unioner tried to bribe me to f*ck off or something. Assuming that was directed at me. I'm not sure what happened there to be honest. They wired me 6,000,000 Credits and only then demanded me to quit the fight. As if I'm one of their dogs or something. In what world do you pay first and place demands later? I gave him a flat no before continuing the fight. The money was nice, though. So I kept that as a donation.
Everything could've turned out so nice if it weren't for a torpedo's shockwave destabilizing my Valkyrie. All my systems went offline while I spiraled away. My right wing gone and middle section lacking a large chunk too. I crawled back home eventually - T-2 threw a tantrum after seeing what mess I did. Said it'll take some time to fix. I've got plenty of that, anyway.
[recording complete]...
... [saved]
"Test the sharpness of your sword against another. And when that is not enough, unsheathe your cunning as the hidden dagger that ends the fight."
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