Infinite Odyssey - A Space Exploration Rp

Greetings all! I'm Admiral Henry G. Edwards and I'm a high ranking official in the United Space Federation. We would like to recruit you to the Federation to be assigned aboard my flagship, 'The Odyssey'! Explore new planets, meet new life and most of all, help shape humanities future! The USF has allied with the Galactic Space Mining Corporation and the Scientific Research Industry to further improve our mission! These two branches have been entwined with the USF so you pick which branch! Put your details a d your background and meet at the boarding station for 'The Odyssey' in your rookie uniforms! Good luck!

Name: Luna
Age: 35
Specialty: Empath/Psychologist/Wellness (Medic/Healer)
Race: Non-Human; Pleaidian (Immigrant to Earth)
Background: Luna came to Earth with her parents as part of a highly confidential, intergalactic space program. She speaks multiple languages, is highly empathic, telepathic, and does energetic healing and manipulation. A sapiosexual being, fascinated with space travel, history, humanity, flora/fauna, mythology, and learning in general.

Luna received her USF uniform and prepared for her assignment on board Admiral Edwards ship. This was her first earth-based assignment, and she was eager to join the crew in their exploration, mining, and research. Her parents were supportive, and frequently traveled on leisure business back to the seven sisters. She promised to keep in touch, and would inform them of the length of our tour of duty, as soon as she was informed. She took her travel belongings and headed, excitedly, to the boarding station.

*When Strange had turned twenty, he had given up. For three years he had labored away at a xenoengineering degree he didn't want, and had made little headway towards getting. His parents were wealthy and proud, and wanted their sun to excel at something they could brag about to other wealthy and proud parents. He had always been a builder and a tinkerer, so such a pursuit seemed natural to them, and strange hadn't had the guts to argue with them. They imagined him designing the future of luxury space stations, or being the head of a great asteroid extraction operation. Strange imagined himself working in a Maglev transport repair shop and being very happy. But, as he did not have the guts, he did not argue. Even when he decided to quit he did not argue. He simply took his quarterly tuition payment, went down to the spaceport, and booked a trip on the next ferry to the ringmines of Saturn. When he arrived, he immediately took an apprentice position in the maintenance wing of the SMC. He'd spent 14 years being a schmuck for the Smuck, which was the nickname all the asteroid jockeys gave to the SMC,

For 14 happy years he'd climbed the ranks, he'd fixed everything from gravity extractors to main reactors, and had a good time doing it. He'd just been granted the title of Expert Mechanist when the unthinkable happened. His mother found him. His family had only gotten richer and more influential, and the news that he was leading a maintenance wing on gas mining rig near Uranus, quite a solid gig, had somehow reached her. She was not pleased, not at all. An angry phone call he had not had time to prepare for hit him like a train. The depth, pay, and prestige of his position had done nothing to dissuade his mother that he was not wasting his life. And thus, through no desire, movement, o effort on his own part, he had been served with paperwork informing him of his transfer to the exploratory wing of the Smuck, and had been placed on the next flight to Central, and then to the Odyssey.

They'd taken his worn in, well loved jumpers and replaced them with fresh rookie digs, bring green for support and maintenance staff. They were baggy, Strange was long and thin, made to wedge himself in and around machinery. His toolbelt cinched them around the waist and gave him a paunchy look he'd never had in his life. They hadn't been able to wrest his cap from him though. A grease stained blue denim cap perched on his dirty colored brown hair, with a scratched brass SNC logo just above the brim, and a worn out Blatz beer patch ironed onto the bill. He had shaven clean for initial inspection at least, he wasn't a fool.

He took a moment to reflect on how he'd actually had to take a paycut for this transfer, something to do with loss of seniority in the new department. Corpo nonsense, he thought, 34 years old and wearing a rookie jumper was also corpo nonsense. All this because an old lady on earth needed a better story to tell at cocktail parties of her brave son, exploring the galaxy.

With these thoughts, Strange slouched his way to the boarding station, a slightly sour look on his usually jovial face. *

(This is a little less organized than I'd like, but I didn't have as much time as I'd like. My apologies. )

Taking orders wasn't his favorite thing, but Dark had gotten used to it quickly. He spent the last 7 years at a repair shop, working on anything at came through the bay door. He was called Dark, in part because no one knew his name. He had suffered severe amnesia after a catastrophic failure in a reactor near his home. Few survived, as help took quite some time to arrive. He had lived in a village of 2000 people, but after the reactor detonated, only 300 remained, most having suffered serious injuries.
He was also called Dark due to where he was usually found; in a dark room with some sort of machine in front of him. He knew he was roughly 28 years old, but had no family. He was offered a spot on the Odyssey, which he accepted after some debating with his SRI officer.
He was given his rookie uniform and a few hours later, was waiting on the boarding station of the flagship Odyssey.

(Simplified)
Name: Dark
Age: Approx. 28
Organization: SRI (Scientific Research Industry)
Specialty: Mechanics/Physics
Species: Human
Place of Birth: Mars

"Your people aren't welcome in places like these, Quarian." The guard said.
"I have a name, Jacob."
"Oh, I'm sorry. Cal'Lukar nar Salem of the Quarian Migrant Fleet."
Cal rolled his eyes. Guards aboard ships were usually rude to people who weren't human. Then again, most guards were human. A few were Krogan, but they were just as rude, with the brute force to back it up. At least turians weren't in this part of the galaxy, though word had spread that they were getting close.

Cal walked past the guard, heading to the boarding station for the Odyssey. He'd wanted to see what human ships were like. Get a feel for their controls. Maybe the skills would prove useful. He'd already piloted a Quarian ship before, even if it was for 5 universal minutes (500 Universal Seconds). Then again, he wasn't good at mechanic stuff. He knew the basics and all the advanced stuff. He could probably make a combat drone out of spare parts given enough time. But he wasn't one of the really good mechanics, like his big brother, Helat'Lukar.

He was, however, much better at fighting than him. He knew his way around a rifle, a shotgun, a pistol... even using pipes as a close quarters weapon, much to the disapproval of nearly everybody else. They always said if you can kill someone at long range, why go for a melee weapon? He argued that sometimes, getting close to the enemy is a better option. It never worked out.

Sitting down at the boarding station, Cal looked around. It was mostly humans, but there was a Pleaidian. They were relatively new to the galaxy, coming in about 20 years after the humans. But they'd caught up with help. And they seemed peaceful. Mostly. But he'd heard tales of Pleaidian soldiers and guards. Strong enough to give Humans, Turians and Krogans a run for their money. And their biotics were also surprisingly powerful. Not enough to beat the Asari, but still strong.

> FILE_ENTRY: ODSY_004
> Name: Cal'Lukar nar Salem
> Age: 24
> Race: Quarian
> Affiliation: Migrant Fleet, Oddysey Flagship
> Sex: Male
> Skillset: Good Mechanic by Quarian standards, Great by most others. Great Fighter by Universal Standards.

There were thousands, possibly millions of recruits and soldiers alike. Pretty much every single one of them was human. The USF allowed friendly alien species but looked down upon them. Everyone was talking to either family, friends or colleagues when Admiral Edwards stepped onto the platform. He wore a white navy uniform with the USF logo on his cap, centred. He had greying hair and a beard which suited him well. He had blue eyes which looked upon the crowd. "Welcome everyone, today is the day many of you are chosen for my flagship, 'The Odyssey'! It is a remarkable piece of engineering. One of the finest ships out of the three branches. It has experienced a fair share of adventure, as will you. You are risking your lives to protect your families, your lives, your home, your honor and most importantly the human race. I understand that there are at least some interplanetary species serving and you are helping to protect our race and yours. My best friend and colleague Vice-Admiral Charles Watford will assign you into groups made up of all three branches and these groups will be given a designated area for everything. The crew onboard will educate you and help you to understand the beauty and complexity of my ship! Thank you all and the United Space Federation values you!"

'The Odyssey' stood behind the platform, one of the tallest and largest ships in the USF. It was a Cellandar Model V1, the first of it's kind. It entered a conflict known as the 'First Intergalactic Conflict' of which up to 1.2 billion died, mostly the enemy. Cellandar was the make of the ship. A very famous and the most popular ship company of all. They made cruisers to destroyers even to battleships and prototype vessels. Little did the crew know, Admiral Edwards was tasked with a mission which might be his last...

*Strange grimaced. It wasn't much of a briefing. It sounded like the opening to a letter informing a parent that their child had died at sea.

Now of course, he reflected as he veritably raided a coffee station in the boarding area, he had no desire in the slightest to be on the ship in the first place. He stirred in a few crumbs of dry creamer as he reflected that this probably colored his interpretation of the speech more than a little. He brought a small plastic cup to his lips and drained it. *

"Typical USC" *He muttered as he threw away the tiny vessel. They were terminal jockies and number crunchers to a man, not an ounce of feeling amongst them. Of course they only needed 200mL of coffee in a serving, they had no emotions or passions to fire up. He would've happily swapped the whole affair for even the most rickety plutonian ice miner in the fleet. At least that was something you could really get a wrench around.

He stared in to the middle distance of the vast crowd for a moment, then looked back to the coffee station and spotted nothing short of salvation. Next to the coffee station was a sort of juice bar, and they were dispensing smoothies into liter glasses. Like a man guided by the hand of an angel, he glided up to the counter, requested a glass of water, dumped the water into the coffee station's minimal sink, and poured himself a full liter of the ole good and hot.

Now, now he was a man who could go to space. *

Luna carried her knapsack on her back, and towed some additional luggage as she navigated through the crowd towards "The Odyssey". She naturally read the energies of those around her, and could feel the non-verbal bristling of several humans at her presence. She learned to disregard most of it, and shield herself from the invisible barbs and bullets.

She listened to the Admiral's address and was eager to get her assignment. This was going to be her new home for a while, and her goal was to provide exemplary service and support. She had to over-achieve just to be met with tolerant glares. But her personal pride and standards were very high. Honor was a core value of her culture.

Luna's bag bumped Cal as she strolled past him. "Sorry. Olapamil napanail." ((Saren language translates to: Soothe the Tiger.))
She traveled to the posting area and awaited Vice-Admiral Watford's designation for her.

Cal'Lukar watched one of the humans. He seemed to have some sort of obsession with the coffee. Either that, or he just really needed a good one. Humans were confusing. All species were, even Quarians. But humans especially. It seemed to be a thing agreed upon by most species.

Getting up, Cal'Lukar stumbled backwards as a Pleaidian walked past him.
"Sorry. Soothe the tiger," They said. Cal sighed.
A lot of phrases had trouble getting through the universal translator. A few Drell, a few Human, though Pleaidian and Gorschi were the big problems.
Shaking the dust off his suit, Cal'Lukar made his way to the posting area, waiting for his designation.

Dark stood in the midst of the crowd, awaiting his own designation aboard the Odyssey. He paid no mind to the others; he had little interest in them at the moment.

Vice-Admiral Watford assigned everyone into their divisions for 'The Odyssey'. Cal'Lukar, Luna, Dark and Strange had all been put into Sector 1A, near the bridge. Admiral Edwards saw potential in all these 4. He read their submitted stories and wanted to give them a chance that they weren't at the points in their lives. Soldiers, officers and crew said goodbye to their family and boarded 'The Odyssey'. "Time to lift her off the ground." Edwards said as he sat in his chair.

Dark looked around at his crewmates. A human and two... aliens. 'Okay,' he thought. He had nothing against them, but it'd take him a while to get used to them being around.

"Greetings," Luna said, finally able to set her bags down for a moment as she arrived in Sector 1A. "I am Luna." She raised her right-hand, crossing her index and middle finger in a friendly salute to the others. She felt little warmth from the table, but also not terrible disdain. She decided that was enough of an expression to open the dialogue, should the others wish to chat. Then, she felt the rumble of the engines firing up and lifting the vessel from its launchpad. "Safe travels."

Cal put his bags down on the floor, the bags filled with scrap, weapons and blueprints.
Cal'Lukar gave a small wave.
"I am Cal'Lukar nar Salem," He said.
The reactions seemed to be mixed. Luna looked relieved, probably because there was another non-human on board. One of the humans seemed to be slightly uncomfortable. He couldn't tell what the other human was thinking. They seemed like a mystery to him.

*Eventually, all good things must come to an end. Eventually, strange was not only informed of where he would be bunking, but even herded to the aforementioned berth. His best attempts to stall, mill around, and cause minor trouble were all swept away. Thus it was that Strange was bustled into the cabin by well meaning security officers after the others he'd be bunking with had already arrived. His bag had even preceded him, a roughed up old canvas affair with patches and pins from ever corner of the outer system glued, sewed, tied, pinned, and soldered onto it. Around this was buckled a grease stained harness covered in tools both worn in appearance and esoteric in nature. Upon arriving in 1A, strange immediately chucked his now empty cup into a waiting waste receptacle. He then strolled over to his bunk, shoved his bag out of the way, and took a seat on his cot, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees. He then let out a slow whistle. *

"Fancy digs. Cellandar always has it in their heads that sailors are princes, and need to be spoiled. "

*This was addressed to no-one in particular. He had not even looked at his new mates yet. He was so used to rolling around from site to site that it made near as no difference to him who he was bunked with. Aliens weren't too common on earth, but on the outer stations? Better believe it. Hell, Strange even knew enough to not call them aliens, less you wanted to take a mantis's toothed arm to the jaw. He did a scan of the room. Brooding human, friendly looking filter-head, some tall kind eye'd sort he didn't recognize. Fair enough. More importantly, SRI, USF, USF. Less good. SRI were awkward nerds, and USF were rule mongers. He then realized they were start introductions, and figured he'd better hop in. *

"Luna, Cal, nice to meet youse all. I'm Strange, Strange de Pont. I guess I'm the token Smuck representative for this berth. "

Dark chuckled at Strange's comment. "I'm Dark," he introduced himself. His belongings had been tucked away shortly before introductions had begun.

"Cal, Luna, Dark and Strange," Cal'Lukar said. "What a crew we are."
He sat down on one of the bunks, sitting down with a sigh.
"Where are you all from?" He asked. "I'm from the Migrant Fleet, or the Flotilla. Originally Rannoch, but... things happened and we had to leave."

"Attention Sector 1A, could Luna, Cal, Dark, and Strange report to the bridge to speak to Admiral Edwards. I repeat, could Luna, Cal, Dark a d Strange report to see Admiral Edwards." Anniounced the speaker. Admiral Edwards stood on the bridge, hands behind his back, looking upon Odessa VI. Odessa VI was a planet with a big population, mainly water but some parts land. Vice-Admiral Watford approached him. "Sir, surely the United Space Federation can't allow this. Why do we need to pick up some more recruits that have been stranded here or are on the space station? Surely we can't accommodate more!" He shouted at Edwards. "Let our four new unique friends decide. The Federation always needs more members to help control the infinite expanse if space." Edwards replied calmly.

Cal-Lukar looked up to the intercom.
"Guess we're heading to the bridge," He said. "Let's get going."

Luna heard the announcement and quickly stood up. Looking around, she waved a ship steward over and asked him to take her bags to her bunk. "Can you please take the others belongings too? Thank you so much." She hurried to catch up to Cal, Strange and Dark who were already headed toward the bridge.