Shepard Quest Mk V, Base of Operations (ME/MCU)
- Thread starter Esbilon
- Start date
- Pronouns
- She/Her
I dunno, The Stars are Right has a nice ring to it.
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sheppard Citadel wgah'nagl fhtagn"
"Ph'nglui mglw'nafh Sheppard Citadel wgah'nagl fhtagn"
meianmaru
The Devourer of Fiction
Maybe the Necrons themselves, even in the new edition, but the C'tan's are Star Vampires. (Or Pokemon, in the new edition.)
...Isn't that the Asari? Saying that all the possible technology has already been invented by the Protheans, and can be found in
But on more on topic discussion, is there any canon description/writing about Joker before he went to the flight school, and what he was like?
Van Ropen
Angry, angry about elves.
All we know is that before he graduated flight school he was really serious, and had a bit of a chip on his shoulder about his disability. He got the nickname Joker because of how focused he was. He didn't lighten up until after he proved to himself and the world he was better than everyone else at his chosen field, despite the disease.
meianmaru
The Devourer of Fiction
Thanks! Now that you mentioned it, I'm getting a flashback from ME1 conversation with him where he mentioned that. Going to go watch videos to refresh those memories after I take care of a few things.
There was a comic about how he got the job of being the Normandy's pilot...
According to the comic, he actually stole the Normandy from it's docking bay after shoving the test pilot into a garbage can, evaded the crew on broad, hacked the piloting controls to lock everyone out of the systems, sealed the cockpit and flew round the pre-arranged course while being shot at (Anderson thought Joker was trying to steal it and had a frigate to open fire on it) and completed the course with time to spare and without a mark on the paint.
I started to question it from the moment I heard he managed shove someone into a garbage can, considering that he has problems dancing, let alone man-handling someone.
He was from Tiptree an agricultural colony that got attacked by the Reapers in ME3 and a few fans believe that the Asari that suffers from PTSD in the hospital saw and fought alongside his little sister.
Who killed a Husk with a pointed stick.
Thanks go out to @Van Ropen for Betaing this. Did a great job making this more readable.
According to the simulations ran back at PI, run at least a thousand times just to be sure, you could get from your comfortable position a hundred and fifty kilometers directly above the demonstration ground to within a meter of your LZ in under two minutes. But you're not some crazy N7 or ODST freak who enjoys screaming towards the ground at insane speeds, pulling insane gees.
Not only would that give your mother a heart attack, it wouldn't really be wise for the first actual orbit-to-ground test of the Tiger to be conducted under such strenuous conditions. A nice, sedate kilometer per second re-entry should be more then impressive enough. You can always demonstrate the full speed version on some other world; don't want to risk accidentally KKVing a city after all.
You pass through through the mesosphere without issue, barely even noticing it was there, and upon hitting the stratosphere you switched the repulsors to descent mode and began to slow your fall. It wasn't until you hit the troposphere that you started to noticed a problem: You were going way too fast.
In fact, according to the sensor panel the bottom of the Tiger should be glowing a fetching shade of brilliant gold right about now. While on fire.
Not good. Not good at all.
You begin rapidly spinning through control panels and status displays with your neural implant but can't find what's wrong. The computer is sure you're descending at the right speed!
A flicker of movement in the corner of your eye.
It's the altimeter. Its rapidly spiraling dial puts you at three thousand meters and falling fast.
You give up hope of a sedate entry, fingers dancing across haptic windows as your neural interface frantically cycles through sensor readings.
Two thousand meters.
You've almost finished instructing the computer to commence an emergency full burn ten seconds before impact.
One thousand meters.
Just a second more.
Nine hundred meters.
Done!
The Tiger's engines slam on to full military thrust and you're crushed into your seat as the computer prioritizes lightening the Tiger over a comfortable ride.Beep.
And suddenly you're fine as the Tiger touches down so lightly you don't even feel it. You barely remember to flick the off switch as you shakily climb out of your seat, and compose yourself before heading towards the top exit.
Popping the hatch, you haul yourself up onto the top of the Tiger and sit with your legs dangling back inside.
About a hundred meters away the crowd in the stands looks at you with a mixture of fear, confusion and shock slowly giving way to poorly-guarded awe . Using your neural interface and the passwords you were given, you easily take control of the show grounds sound system.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Admirals and Generals, I present for your consideration: The Tiger. The galaxy's first IFV capable of independent orbital insertion and escape."
Orbital Self Insertion
"Revy. Are you sure this is a good idea? Just because the math says it should work doesn't mean it will," your mother's voice echos over the comm system as you're running through the the final steps of the checklist.
"Mom. Stop been such a worrywart. I designed the system. I'm sure it will be fine," you negligently reply while fiddling with several fine settings; the data displayed on one of the gauges doesn't seem to be quite right.
Just as you finally get everything set juuust right, your mother's angry screech causes you to jerk back and knock things completely out of alignment. "REBECCA SHEPARD! Don't you just shrug off the risk like that! This is your life we're talking about here!"
You immediately forget about the stupid thing you were fiddling with and sit up in your seat. You can clearly see on the vid screen that your mom's looking quite distressed, more then you've ever really seen her. Even worse than during the Batarian attack. Maybe it's because she can't do anything to protect you if something goes wrong? You're not really sure, you never were good with reading emotions after all.
"Sorry Mom." The earnest regret in your response clearly helps calm your mother down. "I know it might sound arrogant and flippant, but you know I'm right Mom. I'm the best engineer in the Alliance and I've had the entire PI team, who are the best of the best in their fields, look over my work. I'm 100% sure the Tiger will perform flawlessly. That's why I'm here after all."
You throw in a little smile as you add, "Besides, if anything goes wrong then I'm the best person to fix it."
Your mother does her best to return your smile but even you can tell she's still terrified for you. "I know dear. Your all grown up, and I'm so proud of you. I just can't help but worry, it's a mother prerogative after all. I love you."
Your eyes are absolutely, one hundred and ten percent, not misting up. Not at all. "Love you too, Mom. I'll see you on the ground," you reply before cutting the connection. It's show time.
You enter a string of comments on the keyboard in front of you and a timer appears on the screen where your mothers face was seconds ago.
"Mom. Stop been such a worrywart. I designed the system. I'm sure it will be fine," you negligently reply while fiddling with several fine settings; the data displayed on one of the gauges doesn't seem to be quite right.
Just as you finally get everything set juuust right, your mother's angry screech causes you to jerk back and knock things completely out of alignment. "REBECCA SHEPARD! Don't you just shrug off the risk like that! This is your life we're talking about here!"
You immediately forget about the stupid thing you were fiddling with and sit up in your seat. You can clearly see on the vid screen that your mom's looking quite distressed, more then you've ever really seen her. Even worse than during the Batarian attack. Maybe it's because she can't do anything to protect you if something goes wrong? You're not really sure, you never were good with reading emotions after all.
"Sorry Mom." The earnest regret in your response clearly helps calm your mother down. "I know it might sound arrogant and flippant, but you know I'm right Mom. I'm the best engineer in the Alliance and I've had the entire PI team, who are the best of the best in their fields, look over my work. I'm 100% sure the Tiger will perform flawlessly. That's why I'm here after all."
You throw in a little smile as you add, "Besides, if anything goes wrong then I'm the best person to fix it."
Your mother does her best to return your smile but even you can tell she's still terrified for you. "I know dear. Your all grown up, and I'm so proud of you. I just can't help but worry, it's a mother prerogative after all. I love you."
Your eyes are absolutely, one hundred and ten percent, not misting up. Not at all. "Love you too, Mom. I'll see you on the ground," you reply before cutting the connection. It's show time.
You enter a string of comments on the keyboard in front of you and a timer appears on the screen where your mothers face was seconds ago.
Touchdown -300 Seconds
According to the simulations ran back at PI, run at least a thousand times just to be sure, you could get from your comfortable position a hundred and fifty kilometers directly above the demonstration ground to within a meter of your LZ in under two minutes. But you're not some crazy N7 or ODST freak who enjoys screaming towards the ground at insane speeds, pulling insane gees.
Not only would that give your mother a heart attack, it wouldn't really be wise for the first actual orbit-to-ground test of the Tiger to be conducted under such strenuous conditions. A nice, sedate kilometer per second re-entry should be more then impressive enough. You can always demonstrate the full speed version on some other world; don't want to risk accidentally KKVing a city after all.
You pass through through the mesosphere without issue, barely even noticing it was there, and upon hitting the stratosphere you switched the repulsors to descent mode and began to slow your fall. It wasn't until you hit the troposphere that you started to noticed a problem: You were going way too fast.
In fact, according to the sensor panel the bottom of the Tiger should be glowing a fetching shade of brilliant gold right about now. While on fire.
Not good. Not good at all.
You begin rapidly spinning through control panels and status displays with your neural implant but can't find what's wrong. The computer is sure you're descending at the right speed!
A flicker of movement in the corner of your eye.
It's the altimeter. Its rapidly spiraling dial puts you at three thousand meters and falling fast.
You give up hope of a sedate entry, fingers dancing across haptic windows as your neural interface frantically cycles through sensor readings.
Two thousand meters.
You've almost finished instructing the computer to commence an emergency full burn ten seconds before impact.
One thousand meters.
Just a second more.
Nine hundred meters.
Done!
The Tiger's engines slam on to full military thrust and you're crushed into your seat as the computer prioritizes lightening the Tiger over a comfortable ride.
And suddenly you're fine as the Tiger touches down so lightly you don't even feel it. You barely remember to flick the off switch as you shakily climb out of your seat, and compose yourself before heading towards the top exit.
Popping the hatch, you haul yourself up onto the top of the Tiger and sit with your legs dangling back inside.
About a hundred meters away the crowd in the stands looks at you with a mixture of fear, confusion and shock slowly giving way to poorly-guarded awe . Using your neural interface and the passwords you were given, you easily take control of the show grounds sound system.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, Admirals and Generals, I present for your consideration: The Tiger. The galaxy's first IFV capable of independent orbital insertion and escape."
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knowing it and seeing it are two different things.
I wouldn't be surprised if we could have organized it so it was a surprise for most.
However the surprise was suppose to be the rapid entry. They were expecting a nice slow descent and landing since that was what Revy was planning.
Instead they got a rapid descent followed up with a really rapid deceleration. Which while the result of a malfunction, one of those setting Revy knocked and forgot to reset, ended up looking really cool so as far as anyone else can tell Revy did it on purpose.
I wouldn't want to be her when she has to explain that to her mother who thinks that Revy was showing off after that talk they just had.
Van Ropen
Angry, angry about elves.
-if something goes wrong.
There is always something...
Even if it has been cleared by the proper authorities, that doesn't mean every person in the audience will know.
I had the exact same idea! Well, i wasnt gonna use it because it didnt really fit the timeline or the personalities involved, but good stuff none the less! +50 research points.
Clandistine1
(Verified Spaceship)
- Location
- Toorak, Melbourne
UberJKK's excellent omake made me think of something. Do you think that we should ever design ODST pods? I'm sure N7 and Spectres would love'em.
With ME tech, they might even be reliable. Think about all of the times that Shepard had to land a dropship a million kilometers from his actual target because the dropships were unable to weather/dodge enemy fire. With OSDT pods, AA becomes almost irrelevant with the speeds involved.
Tack on a arc reactor + shield + repulsors, and you have something that can take a man plus his equipment into a battle with great precision, behind enemy lines, without having to risk a dropship worth of troops. Then, probably back into orbit afterwards, if we were to expand its capability.
Meh, my 2 cents.
With ME tech, they might even be reliable. Think about all of the times that Shepard had to land a dropship a million kilometers from his actual target because the dropships were unable to weather/dodge enemy fire. With OSDT pods, AA becomes almost irrelevant with the speeds involved.
Tack on a arc reactor + shield + repulsors, and you have something that can take a man plus his equipment into a battle with great precision, behind enemy lines, without having to risk a dropship worth of troops. Then, probably back into orbit afterwards, if we were to expand its capability.
Meh, my 2 cents.
It is on the tech tree already, more or less. It would only cost 50 RP to develop the single use reentry shroud.
Clandistine1
(Verified Spaceship)
- Location
- Toorak, Melbourne
Ah, didn't notice. I guess i'm an utter fuckwit then.
Is she Buffy?.
- Location
- Dual citizen of SV&SB
No, don't worry. It isn't a very prominent thing, and the tech tree is filling up nicely with tons of shinnies. ^.^
You're skipping a rather important part of the story there.
Also, that has been confirmed by one of the writers.
meianmaru
The Devourer of Fiction
Hmm. An idea for a name for the new element/metamaterial/stuff we will end up using in Mk III and forward: How does "lucium" sound? Brings the latin word for "light" to the mind, and the best of all, it isn't even taken in real life! When I checked, it turned out it had almost been used already, but the element that was found and almost named as lucium wasn't really an element, so ya!
Not really the best I could come up with, but the best mythological/dead language references are of course in the use already at this point. Like promethium. Now that would have been a fitting name!
Not really the best I could come up with, but the best mythological/dead language references are of course in the use already at this point. Like promethium. Now that would have been a fitting name!
Something I just noticed...
What exactly did you notice?
Wrong date. Date according to the turn update is 2173, according to the text of the update it's 2171.
Okay, figured I'll just post this now. Let me know if I made any major continuity errors.
*Alert!* *Alert!* Life support failure. Emergency action required immediately.
Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya shook the sweat off his brow and cursed under his breath as the automated message blared over the ship's intercom. It was the third time in two months that the same alert had sounded, and this time it looked like it was going to stick, at least in the near term. In another hour the Alarei's corridors would be too hot to be livable, even in Quarian environment suits. Shaking another bead of sweat off his brow, Rael couldn't help but think: maybe especially in Quarian environment suits.
Turning his attention back to the depressingly well-rehearsed evacuation procedures, Rael could barely conceal his disappointment at the age and disrepair of the lab ship, more importantly how that age and disrepair was marring the first week of his twelve year old daughter's first apprenticeship.
Speaking of whom...
"Captain Khali, have you seen my daughter? She hasn't checked in at any of the evac pods, and the first set are being released soon."
Khali's voice replied, "Haven't seen her yet. She didn't get lost, did she?"
Rael snorted. "Not my daughter. She may be only twelve years old, but I can guarantee you she probably already knows this ship better than both of us put together."
As if to prove his point, the droning voice of the automated alert abruptly cut off, the silence more jarring than the drone of the alert was before. Said silence was briefly cut by another announcement, stating simply, "Life support re-established."
Rael's eyes narrowed. That voice sounded suspiciously familiar...
Five minutes later, his suspicions were confirmed in the main life support control room. "Keelah! Tali'Zorah vas Rayya, what are you doing here?"
Even behind the opaque face mask of his daughter's suit, Rael could see his daughter's bright grin. "Hi daddy! I fixed the ship!"
Rael sputtered as he looked down at the heap of junk scattered around the deck and spot-welded into seemingly random pipes and conduits. Holding pride of place in the center of the spaghetti-cable, raised up on small platforms as if they were arcane altars to some distant technological god, were... "Are those... the Arc Reactors?"
Tali nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, three of the five the Fleet purchased for testing purposes. These Arc reactors provide very consistent power, too consistent for the heat exchangers on this ship in fact. I had to cut down the cycles-per-second and stagger the phases to get the two systems to cooperate at all, but it looks like this patch job should last for months, easily long enough to do real repairs, and without having to abandon ship in the meantime. You know, father, I think we should buy more of these Reactors; I've noticed when you lower the cycles like this the zero point event horizon gains some useful inductance and capacitance properties, and-"
As much as the engineer and Admiral in Rael wanted more details, the father in him won out. "You were supposed to report to the evac pods," he stated firmly, crossing his arms.
Tali flinched a little under her father's stern gaze. "Yes father, I know. But, I also knew I could patch the system, and I had ages before the hardware failure became truly dangerous. Besides," her grin slowly began to return, "I'm a new trainee. I can't be held responsible for getting lost on a new ship."
Rael grumbled, and made a mental note to bribe someone on the Neema to "accidentally" have his friend Han'Gerrel dumped in a waste reclamation pit, again. He sighed, "I suppose you are my daughter, after all."
Tali's grin lit up the room.
--
So yeah, that happened. I figure if we can have a cute mini-ninja Kasumi running around, we can have a tiny tech genius Tali too. The bit at the end references an incident in Rael'Zorah's past, where he and (at the time) fellow trainee Han'Gerrel used their battle-damaged gunboat to save a freighter, against orders to stay back, under the excuse that they were trainees and couldn't get in trouble for breaking formation. They were both given medals, then sent on Pilgrimage early to get them out of the adults' hair.
Maybe in a couple years we'll get a bright, mischievous young Quarian applying for an internship?
Another Genius Is Born
*Alert!* *Alert!* Life support failure. Emergency action required immediately.
Admiral Rael'Zorah vas Rayya shook the sweat off his brow and cursed under his breath as the automated message blared over the ship's intercom. It was the third time in two months that the same alert had sounded, and this time it looked like it was going to stick, at least in the near term. In another hour the Alarei's corridors would be too hot to be livable, even in Quarian environment suits. Shaking another bead of sweat off his brow, Rael couldn't help but think: maybe especially in Quarian environment suits.
Turning his attention back to the depressingly well-rehearsed evacuation procedures, Rael could barely conceal his disappointment at the age and disrepair of the lab ship, more importantly how that age and disrepair was marring the first week of his twelve year old daughter's first apprenticeship.
Speaking of whom...
"Captain Khali, have you seen my daughter? She hasn't checked in at any of the evac pods, and the first set are being released soon."
Khali's voice replied, "Haven't seen her yet. She didn't get lost, did she?"
Rael snorted. "Not my daughter. She may be only twelve years old, but I can guarantee you she probably already knows this ship better than both of us put together."
As if to prove his point, the droning voice of the automated alert abruptly cut off, the silence more jarring than the drone of the alert was before. Said silence was briefly cut by another announcement, stating simply, "Life support re-established."
Rael's eyes narrowed. That voice sounded suspiciously familiar...
Five minutes later, his suspicions were confirmed in the main life support control room. "Keelah! Tali'Zorah vas Rayya, what are you doing here?"
Even behind the opaque face mask of his daughter's suit, Rael could see his daughter's bright grin. "Hi daddy! I fixed the ship!"
Rael sputtered as he looked down at the heap of junk scattered around the deck and spot-welded into seemingly random pipes and conduits. Holding pride of place in the center of the spaghetti-cable, raised up on small platforms as if they were arcane altars to some distant technological god, were... "Are those... the Arc Reactors?"
Tali nodded enthusiastically. "Yes, three of the five the Fleet purchased for testing purposes. These Arc reactors provide very consistent power, too consistent for the heat exchangers on this ship in fact. I had to cut down the cycles-per-second and stagger the phases to get the two systems to cooperate at all, but it looks like this patch job should last for months, easily long enough to do real repairs, and without having to abandon ship in the meantime. You know, father, I think we should buy more of these Reactors; I've noticed when you lower the cycles like this the zero point event horizon gains some useful inductance and capacitance properties, and-"
As much as the engineer and Admiral in Rael wanted more details, the father in him won out. "You were supposed to report to the evac pods," he stated firmly, crossing his arms.
Tali flinched a little under her father's stern gaze. "Yes father, I know. But, I also knew I could patch the system, and I had ages before the hardware failure became truly dangerous. Besides," her grin slowly began to return, "I'm a new trainee. I can't be held responsible for getting lost on a new ship."
Rael grumbled, and made a mental note to bribe someone on the Neema to "accidentally" have his friend Han'Gerrel dumped in a waste reclamation pit, again. He sighed, "I suppose you are my daughter, after all."
Tali's grin lit up the room.
--
So yeah, that happened. I figure if we can have a cute mini-ninja Kasumi running around, we can have a tiny tech genius Tali too. The bit at the end references an incident in Rael'Zorah's past, where he and (at the time) fellow trainee Han'Gerrel used their battle-damaged gunboat to save a freighter, against orders to stay back, under the excuse that they were trainees and couldn't get in trouble for breaking formation. They were both given medals, then sent on Pilgrimage early to get them out of the adults' hair.
Maybe in a couple years we'll get a bright, mischievous young Quarian applying for an internship?
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