CYOA: Voices

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

http://i255.photobucket.com/albums/hh126/silancy/vtitle.jpg (http://s255.photobucket.com/user/silancy/media/vtitle.jpg.html)




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There's a sound. It hits your ears like some merciless whine. It draws you from the blessed arms of sleep, and your fist act upon truly waking is not to open your eyes, but scowl.

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Slowly though, you open your eyes with a groan.

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You groan dies away into a helpless sigh as you stare up at the bulkhead ceiling of your bunk. It's a familiar sight, and one that you're pretty sure you'll be taking with you to your grave. You've seen it so many times.

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Still though, your alarm is ringing. It's relentless, and as you wipe a hand over your eyes you contemplate simply shutting it off.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Shut off the alarm, go back to sleep.

[Vince]

What's our name again? Gotta make sure we didn't lose any marbles during the night!

[Charley]

Is it an alarm for waking up, or an alarm for something unpleasant like we're under attack or we've hit something?

Probably shouldn't get the different alarms confused. Wake up and make sure the ship isn't exploding.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Sleep through ship exploding.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It would be so easy to go back to sleep, but as you roll onto your side and slap the chrono to shut off that damn alarm, you know that you've got a job to do. After all, the payout is choice.

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Sitting up, you let your bare feet fall to the deck as you look at the small cargo crate that serves as your small bedside table. Aside from the chrono, a lone credit chit and your Imperial ID lay on the top.

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A chime gets your attention, and you look to the closed door of your cabin.

"Comin' up on our exit, Sal!"

Aneka's voice is clear as a bell, even despite being on the other side of the door, and frankly it's far too jovial for this time of the morning.

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[Lilaena De'Ville]

Check to see if we're a boy or a girl. Then grouse at Aneka about being too loud in the morning OUR HEAD HURTS.

[Jamie Morrigan]

<strike>Retrieve arms from cargo crate.</strike>

Is it morning? Bemoan that you never know how to read modern clocks. Then find a mirror so we know what we look like, because the picture on our ID is probably embarrassing.

[Vince]

Exit? Ask Aneka (if that is her/his real name!) what the hell's he/she is talking about! It's not like he/she will think we're crazy or anything.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

You grumble just a little bit, rising to stand while wiping at the stubble on your chin. Shuffling bare foot to the door, you reach out to none-too-gently smack the release panel, and it slides open. Propped against the doorframe, Aneka gives you a smirk.

"You look like something the mynock dragged in from the guts of a space slug."

You frown, grunting something that isn't in any way intelligable.

"Serves you right. I told you to take it easy with that Corellian whiskey last night."

You give her a withering yet still sleepy-eyed glare, but like always, she waves you off.

"We're gonna be dropping outta hyperspace over Batorine in ten. Think you can get yourself dress by then?"

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Assuring her that yes, you can do that, you tell her you'll be in the cockpit in five minutes. She doesn't seem entirely convinced, but since she's become used to your grumpy morning demeanor, the Falleen shrugs before heading off.


Left standing in the doorway, you retreat back into the sanctuary of your cabin to take stock of not only yourself, but the early hour; four-thirteen in the morning is not when people were meant to be up. Turning to look back at your bed, you silently curse the chrono that sits like some innocent bystander. You'd hoped - when you first looked at it - that it had been off. If it was an older model the time shown probably wouldn't have been so terrible, but as it was, the blinking green glow of digital numbers had quickly become the bane of youre slumber. Still though... the payoff. Your cargo rules your life, and unfortunately your sleep is often the first victim that falls to whatever timetables your employer dictates.



You move over to the small fresher to stand in front of the mirror perched over the equally small sink. Should you even bother to shave?

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[Lilaena De'Ville]

Can't shave that face, it was made for a layer of manly stubble. Spray on some deodorant and go check on the cargo, the cockpit can wait.

ANARCHY

[Taataani Meorrrei]

Better check the computer to brush up on the planet we're visiting to dress accordingly

[Dragon]

Yes, you should shave. Shave that head right now. Then paint yourself green so you can pass yourself as Aneka's brother, per your elaborate plan.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

You briefly wonder if you should just throw normalcy to the wind and shave everything; stubble and head alike. It'd certainly make Aneka wonder about your sanity, at the very least. And, if you really wanted to mess with her, you could paint yourself green and... you shake your head. Maybe should save that thought for later when you've got the time to spare. As it is, you opt to not shave. A quick application of deoderant, and a pair of trousers and shirt later, and you scoop up your datapad on the way out of your quarters.

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You don't head for the cockpit at first. Instead you start down the corridor heading toward the cargo hold. Over the years it has become a habit of yours, to personally inspect your haul, and this run is no different. During the short trek, you access your datapad, pulling up information on Batorine. It seems pretty ho-hum stuff. Forest world, indiginous sentient life are the Blood Carvers. Insectoids; lovely. Least you won't have to bundle up like you did on that one drop to Hoth.

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Stepping through the door to the cargo hold, you look up from your datapad. The cargo looks about normal, really. Just the same as when it was loaded. You let out a satisfied sigh, but just as you turn to leave, something catches your eye. Something that's different. Looking again at the meticulously stacked cargo crates, your eyes narrow. Is one of them... is there a glow coming from inside one of those crates?

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[Kazahan]

Throw caution to the wind and check out that glowing box!

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Yeah, check out the box.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

maybe a radiation scan before looking, just to be safe. Don't want ball cancer or anything.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A glowing cargo crate is never good, and with a look of mild confusion you start forward. The datapad is shoved into the back of your pants as you walk closer. For a brief moment you wonder if you accidentally got a hyperdrive coil core or something mixed in with your cargo, but by the time you think of that, you know that it'd be useless to scan for radiation. If there was radiation, it'd already be too late. If you're lucky it won't be anything horrible like ball cancer or something. Stepping up to the crate, you reach out a hand to run along the side of it.

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As soon as you touch it, you feel a tingling in your fingers. It's a strange sensation that begins to travel up the length of your arm, and instinctively you try to pull away. Except... you can't. Your hand is stuck to the side of the crate, and as you try to lever yourself in another effort to separate yourself, the glow becomes brighter until it blinds you. And in that blinding light you see a vision, angry eyes that pierce into your soul.

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And then the world around you goes dark.


When you come to, you're on your back and staring up at the unmistakable domed head of your astromech, Bait. He's twittering at you in an undeniably smarmy tone, telling you that Aneka is still waiting for you in the cockpit.

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[Dragon]

Aneka can keep her shirt on! Order Bait to check that crate's contents against your manifest... and stand well back while he peeks. Time for him to earn his nickname!

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Aneka can keep her shirt on! Order Bait to check that crate's contents against your manifest... and stand well back while he peeks. Time for him to earn his nickname!
Agreed. I'm assuming she's the co-pilot so she can co-pilot while we make sure this thing doesn't detonate our whole ship.

[Charley]

Also, who the hell are we transporting this spooky cargo for?

Might also be good to know how long we were lights out, though I don't know if bait would know.

[Peter McCoy]

Is there a shuttle? if so, take your chances in the shuttle! Turn the ships main coolant off and escape in the shuttle before the engines detonate! Kill that fucking alien!

Oh wait, wrong game!

I'd head to the medbay to get your head scanned, as well as to find out why your fingernails are so horridly square!

[Suriyesh Rajinaathra]

Kill that fucking alien!

What did Aneka ever do to you? :eek

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Changing vote to go paint our fingernails.

jk ;)

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

You grumble at Bait, giving him a sour look as you pick yourself up off the deck. Fishing in your pocket for your small comm unit, you call up Aneka and tell her that you'll be busy in the hold for a little bit longer.

Her voice comes back, and it's easy to tell that she's not really surprised.

"Fine fine. We're dropping in two minutes."

Two minutes. That meant you'd been out for at least four or five minutes. Your eyes track back to the crate - still glowing - as you shut off the comm unit. Bait trills at you, and looking down at him, you pull out your datapad again, keying it on and going through your manifest. Sculptures and small statues. Nothing really exotic, but your client did say they were a cultural treasure or some such. You hadn't really been paying too much attention while the cargo loader was doing its' job. Another look at Bait, and you take a cautionary step back while gesturing to the crate and ordering him to open it up.

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He gives a low whistle at that, and you gesture again before he finally trundles forward. His dome swivels back and his little glowing ocular seems to shoot accusation across the widening distance between the two of you, as if to say that you're brain damaged and your fingernails look funny. You only make a half-grimace while wondering idly where in the world he comes up with such things.


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When the side finally comes off, you can't help but stare at what'd been packed away inside.

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[Dragon]

Holy mother of H. R. Giger!

So, how buddy-buddy are we with Aneka? If we tell her we've got a creepy glowing statue in our cargo, and it just made us black out and gave us a vision of angry old man eyes, will she show any concern, or will she be calling the nice men in the white coats on us?

Either way, we're going to need to tell her something.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

It's so beautiful.... I want to touch it. BUT this is cargo and we shouldn't have opened it up. Did we break a seal on the crate? How potentially screwed are we?

Close up and seal the crate, try to forget about the statue and go up to the cockpit, pretend everything is ok.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With a little bit of help from Bait, you're able to close the crate back up, but all the same you can't get those angry eyes out of your head. It doesn't help either, that the glowing statue is still there, but you try to ignore it. You try to ignore everything.

Bait trills at you, and you give him a pat on the dome in thanks.



Making your way back out into the corridor, you and Bait head to the bridge and the waiting Aneka.

There's a planet in the starfield ahead, which meant that she'd already dropped. Turning, your crewmate gives you a concerned look.

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"You ok?" she asks.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"No. I mean yes. Everything's fine." And then try to remember who we're transporting the cargo for.

edit: you should restart this in the Game Room on somethingawful, it'll be great and people will vote :D