#scral | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

niqhtlord01 · 10 months

Text

Humans are weird: The Adventures of Captain York and Felix: The Galaxies luckiest bastards

Continuation of: https://www.tumblr.com/niqhtlord01/679724673487044608/humans-are-weird-salvage-rights?source=share

“Esteemed scions,” the human captain opened up to the descending group of alien leaders, “welcome to the most interesting purchase of your lifetime!”

Despite their trepidation about dealing with a human, the gathered aliens could not disagree with the human captain’s statement.

Before them was the chance to purchase a Scral Warship; a vessel that had been deemed a fleet killer for sheer armament and technical sophistication. The human captain “York” and his crew had flown this vessel unannounced to their spaceport and loudly broadcast that they were looking to sell.

Within three hours a delegation from the chamber of scions had been assembled and shuttled up to the waiting warship to inspect it and hammer out the final details for the purchase. Lingu, the delegation leader, was somewhat more cautious than his fellow delegates.

The majority saw this as a chance of a lifetime. The acquisition of a Scral Warship would be a huge boon to the system defense fleet and would allow them to even exert power to neighboring systems. Lingu was aware of the benefits, but at the moment he was more worried about the still many unclear facts of the situation.

This York and his second in command “Felix”, claim to have salvaged the warship after finding the entire Scral crew dead. They then repaired critical systems and flew to the nearest system to put the ship up for sale.

From the very beginning Lingu found this concerning.

The standard crew complement of a Scral warship was five thousand minimum. Each member of the crew would be the cream of the Scral navy; from the lowest janitor to the captain themselves. For all five thousand to die suddenly from an “atmospheric malfunction”, as the humans had described it, would be strange to say the least. Then there was the matter of the Scral government wanting their ship back.

Salvage rights were one thing, but they meant very little to a Scral attack fleet and Lingu would be hard pressed to find a reason that would convince them to let his people keep their warship.

Lingu had sent a message to the Scral government over the matter but he had yet to receive a response. He would have to push the matter to the side for now as the humans began their sales pitch.

“What we have here is the most technologically advanced death machine the galaxy has ever seen.” York began as he began leading the delegation through the hangar doorway. In typical Scral design aesthetic the corridor was decorated with various trophies from previous conquests and battles.

A nebula blaster here, a religious braid of a Shen’gan warrior there, a tiny black obelisk of the Drumari there; it was as impressive of a collection as it was seemingly random and without order.

Lingu wasn’t paying much attention to the trophies though as he listened to the human captain.

“Have you contacted the Scral government?” Lingu asked Captain York. “I imagine they would have been rather eager to obtain such a valuable asset.”

York smiled and nodded to the diplomat. “You would be right, but after determining that the Scral were just as likely to board the ship once more and attempt to take it back we have kept our relations cordial.”

“Meaning you haven’t contacted them about your latest acquisition.” Lingu added with a smirk.

If the snub had wounded the human’s pride they gave no sign of it. With the air of a used hover vehicle salesman he deflected the question while leading the group deeper into the ship.

The group walked for another thirty minutes touring the gun decks and engineering sections of the warship. Along the way they would occasionally encounter members of York’s crew. The humans would either nod a greeting to York and the diplomats as they passed or would be so deep in their work that they hardly noticed as the delegation passed.

Lingu took notes on a data pad as they entered each area. It was strange how despite traveling through the majority of the core areas of the ship they had still yet to see a single deceased Scral. If there had been an atmospheric malfunction as Felix had said there should have been dead Scral manning their station. He pondered this question as York led the group into a turbo lift that carried them to the command bridge. York introduced some of the other humans on the bridge including his second Felix who came over to the group after smacking a nearby terminal to stop the sparks from flying out of it.

“And that concludes our wonderful tour.” York announced as he casually sat himself into the Scral command throne. He looked like a child sitting in the chair three times his size but none of the delegation openly spoke it.

“What is you offer?”

The delegation spoke amongst themselves for a moment before nodding to each other. Lingu stepped forward and handed the data pad over to York. The human took the pad and scrolled through the details on it.

“Is this a joke?” York declared as he finished.

“Something wrong captain?” Felix asked, to which York responded by handing him the data pad. Felix went through the data pad and Lingu watched their expression contort with each page.

“What the frak is this?!” Felix finally declared before throwing the data pad back in disgust. Lingu casually caught it midair and returned it to his robes.

“I take it you are not pleased with our offer?” Lingu asked. In truth he had already knew the first offer was well below the value of the ship itself. The chamber of scions had approved spending up to two third the yearly planetary budget to make the purchase but he was not willing to offer all of that without negotiating.

York slapped the right arm of the command throne and sat upright. “Perhaps you need a demonstration to up your bidding offer.”

York nodded to Felix who in turned waved a hand to the surrounding human crew. On the order they began activating the ships systems and bringing the warship to full power.

The delegation turned to see the energy shields come to life outside of the viewport. Waves of blue energy enveloped the ship in a thick radiance until the entire viewport was tinted in a blue glow.

Lingu watched as the monitors began turning on one by one showing other portions of the ship.

Video feeds of the engine room, armory, weapon batteries, and…

Lingu stopped on one monitor in particular as he saw a room filled with what looked like stacked bodies. No sooner had he started to focus on the image did it suddenly turn off. Checking the other monitors Lingu turned to see that it was the only one that had been deactivated and turned back to look at York.

York was still sitting in the command throne smiling while Felix was likewise smiling but somewhat flustered. His arms hurriedly folded behind his back and Lingu swore he could see a band of sweat running down the human’s face.

“Mr. Felix,” York cut in through the silence, “target an open area of space and have all weapon batteries open fire.”

“Wait, what?” one of the delegates said as they heard York. “You can’t fire in system, it will frighten off the other traders and merch-“

“Firing main cannons.” Felix replied in a monotone voice.

Lingu felt the ship shudder as at least a hundred weapon emplacements fired as one into the void of space. The viewport soon was filled with lances of pure energy shooting out into the void; thankfully aimed at nothing within the area.

“Quite impressive, no?” York added smugly before Felix jabbed him in the shoulder. “What?” York asked before looking at Felix motioning with his head to the radar screen. The normal and orderly lines of trade ships coming in and out of the system now were scattering in all directions like insects when the lights turned on.

“Oh, well; sorry about that.” York remarked with a half laugh. Felix pinched his brow and sighed loudly before stepping forward.

“As you can see all primary systems are functioning and within operational standards. This vessel will become a primary deterrence to any and all aggressors while complimenting your military forces for any future engagements.”

He then proceeded over to Lingu and held up his own data pad. “This is our final offer; if you refuse we will take this vessel and seek new buyers.”

Seeing no other option Lingu looked back at the other delegates who were all nodding in unison. “Very well, we shall make the transfer now.”

Lingu pulled his data pad out once more and began entering in several keys. Felix’s pad beeped and he went over the information to confirm the transfer. When the device flashed green he gave the thumbs up to York who rose from the command throne.

“It has been a pleasure doing business with you gentlemen,” York began as he walked over and shook Lingu’s hand. Felix beside him was waving his hand in the air in a circle motion and the rest of the human crew began filing out into the turbo lift.

“Until we meet again, I wish you all a bright future.” York finished before turning in place and joining the other humans in the lift. The last Lingu saw of them was York’s smiling face while Felix was repeatedly pressing the close button on the turbo lift.

“This is York to all hands, the sale is complete so let’s get the hell out of hear.”

York started speaking into the communicator built into his collar the moment the turbo lift doors closed.

“You have twenty minutes to get back to the Cuttlefish; any later and you will be left behind.”

With that he terminated the communication and turned to Felix who was looking at him in disapproval.

“Why the hell is our ship name so stupid?” he asked as the other crew in the lift casually began looking anywhere else.

“Because it’s my ship and I wanted something cute.” York explained once again. “Any you don’t get to sass me now after you nearly cost us the deal.”

“I caught it in time.” Felix countered. “How was I to know the mess hall had a camera in it?”

“Furthermore, it was your idea to store all the bodies there; I wanted to dump them into space.”

“So you just wanted me to get rid of perfectly lootable bodies?” York scoffed.

The turbo lift finally came to a stop and no sooner had the doors opened wide enough was York and the rest of his crew sprinting out of the lift to their ship.

“We need to be off this ship before they find the bodies or battle damage.” Felix called out as the group skidded around a corner. “Blaster fire kinda puts holes in the whole atmospheric malfunction story.”

York grunted in reply but otherwise kept focusing on sprinting.

It was true that the atmospheric systems deactivated on the Scral warship, but only after York’s crew had snuck aboard, fought their way to the atmosphere control center and turned it off. The majority of the crew died once the breathable environment evaporated, but several dozen had been smart enough to put on vacuum suits and continue to hold key sections of the ship.

They had only eliminated the last batch of survivors on the bridge just before the traffic control station contacted them after they entered orbit. They then spent the three hours waiting for the delegation to arrive cleaning up the hallways leading between sections and repairing whatever battle damage they could while hiding the bodies out of sight.

Felix had wanted to dump them to be safe, until York pointed out their potential buyers would be suspicious seeing a couple dozen bodies begin ejected out an airlock.

Now with the sale completed the human crew needed to be off ship and out of system before the Scral realize that one of their warships was missing and came looking for it.

“Next time can we steal something smaller?” Felix gasped out after passing through the last airlock on to the Cuttlefish. “Like a safe? Like a normal bank safe filled with credits?”

“Always thinking so small, aye Felix?” York remarked as he ushered the rest of his following crew onboard. “You should be thinking how we can possibly outdo ourselves after this job.”

“But don’t worry,” York smiled as the last of his crew finally came onboard and the airlock began sealing, “I already have an idea or two.”

#humans are insane #humans are space oddities #humans are weird #humans are space orcs #scifi #story #writing #original writing #niqhtlord01 #funny #York and Felix

91 notes · View notes

niqhtlord01 · 2 years

Text

Humans are weird: Salvage Rights

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

“Inbound vessel, please restate your last transmission.”

The control room sat in silence as Foreman nervously sent out his question again. Everyone present in the control room had served on the massive orbital dockyards of Nevan III for over twenty years, the foreman alone having been born and raised on the station some fifty years ago, and none of them knew what to do next.

Two hours earlier an inbound jump signature was detected at the edge of the system. This was far from unusual given the high amount of traffic the dockyard drew in. On average the dockyard would see some thousand or so vessels coming and going on a daily basis. What had been usual was when the control room operators noticed that several dozen ships were veering away from the new inbound vessel and scattering all across the system. The rules of trade for the system was that ships had to follow the specific designated lanes lest they risk endangering other ships going in and out of the system.

Communication officers began calling out to the ships as they were fleeing, but what they heard didn’t make any sense.

“It’s massive!”

“It’s coming right at us, hard to port now!”

“Not again……please…not again…”

“Get us the frak out of here now!!”

Soon more and more ships were swerving out of the way until a hundred vessels were wildly off course and fleeing the system in all directions. What was more disturbing was that all attempts to communicate with the strange inbound ship were met with silence; and it wouldn’t be for another hour until the control room staff learned why.

The vessel slowly crept out from behind the dark side of the planets moon and finally came into view of the dockyards exterior cameras. One could hear a pin drop as the room went silent.

It was a Scral warship.

Shaped like a longleaf pinecone in dark purple metal the ship was what one admiral dubbed a “Fleet killer”. Every inch had launch bays for automated fighters to pour out from and swarm their target. Massive gun ports dotted the exterior surface holding twin plasma cannons capable of cutting through armored hulls like a knife through butter, all protected by several dozen class five shield generators scattered around the entire ship for maximum protection.

The ship was nearly the size of the dockyard and as it approached the station the shadow of the vessel became to engulf the orbital structure like a shroud of despair. None of the system defense ships had even a fraction of the firepower that now floated before them and the nearest defense fleet was over seven systems away and would never reach them in time.

As the embodiment of death drew closer the communication officers begin picking up garbled messages being sent from the warship. Fragmented transmissions were being sent from the vessel but the control room staff could barely make them out.

“Scral warship,” the Foreman spoke into the transmitter, “please adjust your frequencies to channel nine-five-alpha-seven-three and repeat your last message.”

The crew waited for what felt like an eternity before they heard the reply.

“Hello; can you hear me now?”

Instead of the harsh guttural voices of the Scral, the control room staff was surprised to hear a much softer voice.

“Felix, you stupid fraker, you told me you fixed the radio.” The strange voice continued.

“It was that or fix the oxygen scrubbers and I don’t know about you but I like fraking breathing!” The second voice was not as clear as the first and it sounded as if it was coming from farther away from the transmitter.

“This is Orbital control,” the Foreman said after gathering his wits once more, “we can read you loud and clear.”

“Oh you can?” the reply from the original voice. “Sorry about that felix, you’re a saint.”

Something inaudible could be heard in the background but the Foreman couldn’t make it out. When the background chatter died down the original voice returned.

“This is Captain York of the inbound Scral warship and we would like to sell this ship.”

“You want….to sell it?”

In all of his years working in the orbital dockyard the foreman had never heard something so outlandish.

“Are you Scral?” the Foreman asked.

“That is a negative,” York replied, “my crew and I are all human.”

The control room broke out into a bustle of conversations that took several minutes to die down, mostly due to the foreman’s loud shouting for silence.

“Would you mind explaining how humans came into possession of a Scral warship?” the Foreman asked.

“We stole it.” The voice sounded like the human Felix over the radio.

“You stole it?”

“Of course not,” York declared rather loudly over the radio, “we salvaged it; no stealing involved at all.”

The foreman sat in silence for a few moments before his scanning officer waved to him. He silently uploaded a data file of their most recent scan of the Scral warship.

“We just ran a life sign scan for your ship and we only register human lifesigns.” The foreman said over the radio.

“See, just like I said.” York replied.

“Can you please explain what happened to the Scral crew?” The foreman countered. “There would have been a crew of some five thousand onboard such a vessel.”

The radio was silent for a few minutes before York responded to the question.

“Ah yes, the original crew, such a sad story.” York began. “It seems they had a computer malfunction and their entire atmosphere was vented into space, leaving the crew to slow and painful deaths.”

“And how would you know this?”

Another round of silence until Felix came replied. “We found the ship floating in the void and when we investigated the ship the logs told us what happened.”

“Oh yes,” York came back with, “those logs were very helpful with explaining the….ah…the mystery.”

The Foreman could tell the humans were lying through their teeth, but he still couldn’t understand why.

“And now your intention is to sell the vessel?”

“That is correct.” York replied.

“But why?” the foreman asked. “You now find yourself in control of one of the most powerful warships in the galaxy, and rather than using it for yourself you are….selling it?”

“Because we can make a lot of credits off this, why else would we be selling it” York replied. “We’re just simple folks out to make some credits, not start a war.”

“Yes, I know it’s worth a large sum of credits but-“

“Look if you’re not interested just say so.” York said cutting off the foreman. “There are plenty of other stations out there with buyers.”

“If you will just wait,” the foreman stammered, “I am just trying to understand-“

This time it was Felix who cut in. “If they’re not buying can we head out captain? Everything here is written in Scral and fraking hurts my eyes to read.”

“Frak it,” York came in, “we’ll find another buyer.”

At the end of that transmission the massive warship powered up its engines and began turning to head back the way it came to the edge of the system.

“Wait!” The foreman shouted over the radio. “If you just give me some time I can contact the appropriate officials to handle the purchase.”

Another long silence as the warship’s engines slowly powered down again.

“So you are interested then?” York said over the radio. “How long will it take?”

The Foreman looked around at his staff as many of them simply shrugged their shoulders.

“It will take..ah..three hours to get the officials together to present you with an offer.”

“Splendid.” York said as the warship went completely still again. “While we wait can you send over some food? My crew hasn’t had anything but Scral ration packs.”

“We’ll see what we can do.”

With that the Foreman cut off transmission with the warship and turned to the nearest communications officer.

“Get me a direct line to the chamber of scions now!”

The officer nodded and began bringing up a direct line now as the foreman watched the Warship continue to hover just off the station from the view screen.

“They are never going to believe this.”

#HUMANS ARE WEIRD #humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are space oddities #scifi #story #writing #original writing #funny

614 notes · View notes