Scene #894: Event Orion

Owner	Pose
Ferham	Space... the final frontier. These are the voyages of the starship--ohshi--space pirates! Ferham hadn't figured this smallish shuttle she'd been on would get attacked by a whole band of them. The pirates themselves was a trio of smaller fighter style aircraft as well as a bomber, likely part of a raiding party that would return to a much larger vessel once they were done. They wanted the cargo more than anything, it'd appear. Fer had fought off those she could but the ship itself was a complete wash, explosive decompression she discovered... didn't do nice things to the softer targets on board. Once the hurly burly was over with she found herself clinging to a small piece of metallic wreckage--what she thought might have been part of an archway, drifting and tumbling through the blackness. She wasn't sure if her wings could get her to anything remotely close to her current position, that is, the position she'd read the last time the ship was intact. She just hoped something happened before she went batty from the lack of sound and other stimulus. And it might be sometime before anyone happened by...
E18-A Orion	The plasma storms can add their own fun to the mix, and while Ferham is out there, she might pick up some signals that sound like a banshee screaming into a microphone about to get obliterated by a nuclear blast. If there was once any semblance of patterns or meaning to them, once the storms have had their way it's long gone... But the signals are strong. Too strong to just be harmonics and mixes from some distant broadcasts. A few minutes later and the source is revealed as it plows out of a nearby storm: A starship, this one intact! Its shields glitter as the last of the plasma scatters, then fade. Engines leave behind their own cold, comet-like trail of ions. The signal quality changes too--sensor sweeps, apparently. Very, very strong ones (an attempt to punch through the storms?). The ship diverts course to come a little closer, but only skirting, the debris field from the recent battle.
Ferham	Thankfully, space, or rather the void, wasn't as quiet as she might have feared, but were the noises coming out of it to be welcomed either? Still she tumbled and drifted, using as little energy as possible as she remained almost perfectly still, only her eyes dartying around once in a while. She'd seem almost in a trance, or a coma as the ship suddenly roared from one of the plasma storms, finding her stationary, though definitely sticking out thanks to her red armor amidst that wreckage. Ferham is of course transmitting a distress signal, from her own body though--the ship's was toast, and any hand held or smaller transmitters would have been lost by now. Whoever is coming by would be able to tell someone is here... and needs help.
E18-A Orion	The ship begins firing its retro thrusters, slowing down as it approaches the boundary of the field. "Hello?" Transmitted in both text and voice to keep... his? Sounds like a young male anyway--to keep his bases covered.
Ferham	No sound in space, so when Ferham is eventually roused thanks to the transmittal, she has to respond by radio in kind. A deep feminine voice would be broadcast back, "Hello? can you perhaps stop for a moment, I'm stranded out here... pirate attack," she seemed to be under a bit of duress. Well, who wouldn't being stuck out here for so long, right? Next time she was heading through the void she was going to book passage on something larger than a cargo vessel. Or at least faster.
E18-A Orion	"Hi!" The voice sounds momentarily cheerful, as though happy that there's a living soul out here afterall. But then it takes a more subdued, concern tone. "Do you see my ship? Can you make your way there? There's a loading bay I can open on the front, under the nose..." A pause, as though for contemplation. "I can come in, but I don't want to risk knocking any of these fragments into you..."
Ferham	There is a momentary pause as Ferham peered up into the black void, peering at the ship that appeared to be a bit larger than Sky Lynx. At this point she'd take any ride, and so pushed off the broken ring of the archway and slowly towards the larger craft, the propulsion she could gain with her gravity based flight system was... dubious out here. Soon she'd be close enough to the front to be facing the cargo bay doors, floating there. "Alright, can you open them for me?" she practically relished the idea of being out of the cold, dark bleakness of space.