bakerstreet | Travel

Travel

The Traveling Meme

You're on your way from point A to point B, and you've chosen one of the many forms of communal conveyance to do so! Let's see what your trip looks like today.

Train: The Orient Express if you're feeling fancy, your standard intercity line if you're not, but no matter how humble the train there's always a little bit of romance to the rail.
Plane: It may be the type of travel we least look forward to. Go ahead and stuff your character in coach--unless they're one of the blessed few who can afford knee room in business class.
Ship: The heyday of the grand passenger liners, a tall ship (preferably with a star to steer her by), or the ferry.
Bus: Whether it's a school bus, a Greyhound, or your regular commuter ride... we know you're not wearing the seatbelt like you're supposed to.
Stagecoach: Some old-timey fun!
Airship: Listen, JRPGs had it right when they decided these should be a normal thing.
Spaceship: For that sci-fi feel! To boldly get Ubered where no one has Ubered before.

Scenarios

I brought a book for a REASON: You're just trying to make this journey in peace and quiet but for the person in the seat next to you....
Stalled: Well, now you're really not there yet, because your mode of transport has stopped working--thrown a wheel or can't get off the tarmac or lost the breeze. Better figure out something to do in the meantime.
Stand and deliver! Dammit, it's bandits, or robbers, or some other kind of ne'er do well--or maybe you're the one pulling the heist.
Running: Not literally, obviously, but you're trying to get away from something bad. Let's hope it's not catching up to you a few seats down....
Disaster! This isn't just inconvenient, it's catastrophic! Good thing you're here to save the day, right? ...Right?
Actually having a nice time: It's just pleasant to sit and look out windows while someone else does the steering, you know?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Years ago, he would have sat on the back of a Pelican piloted by a pilot of the UNSC, as he waited to see where would he go next. The one thing that remained with him in his time as a soldier, was the need to toss whatever he carried onto a vehicle and get moving.

The Spartan instead traced a cargo train in search of someplace else to go. He turned his visor to the vehicle was the engine and the clacking of the wheels onto rail sections turned louder. At first, he took only a handful of steps backwards, following the direction of the wagons, until he turned it into a run. One that in full armor, managed to keep up with the vehicle at full speed.

He tossed a heavy satchel onto an open wagon. Once a curve came in, the Spartan took advantage. He timed it. The moment the tree turned, he bolted upwards in the air, feeling the floor of the wagon shake with his weight. After that, his helmet turned to his left, and his right, ensuring there was no one here.

Out of his world, and wandering once again, the armored soldier needed to explore once again. Throughout several worlds, throughout several places, through several roads. Many things had happened since his experience back in Parthas, and worse, back home as well. Things that eventually made him conclude, he would need to continue being out there. Alone.

However, his entire figure immediately turned onto a familiar figure. Tensing, almost freezing in recognition. ]

Claire?

[ John asked. ]

[ The last several years had turned Claire into something of a wanderer, and now she was certain she'd never been so far from home. She couldn't remember the last time she'd run into a familiar face, and while she was quick to make friends and acquaintances in her travels, it still got a bit lonely at times.

It's her first time hitching a ride on a train. She finds it oddly soothing, the sounds of rolling over the tracks, the train whistle. And the countryside is gorgeous, when she can catch a look.

Her thoughts are broken with the heavy thud of boots on the floor of the wagon, the aftershocks from the impact shaking beneath her. It startles her, but she's far too disoriented to put up any sort of defense--

Recognition blooms, sparking memories. That armor, the shape towering above her, taller than just about anyone she's ever known. He speaks her name with a voice she knows. Her own sounds so small in her ears when she replies. ]

Yeah... John?

[ Spartan thoughts and reactions were immediate. There was recognition. The blond hair and the way it'd drape over her lithe body, her expressions of kindness onto beings even larger than her, a sense of humor that felt familiar to him, and...

... rushes of dopamine and oxytocin that appeared the moment he saw her. Association, John remembered from Déjà's old lessons. And yet, in these strange new worlds, any semblance of familiarity was something John desperately sought for.

His body relaxed. The best a Spartan could relax, even in full armor, arms lowering and his torso leaning forward. He gave her distance as he knelt down, trying his best not to make his armor shake the wagon.

But the least he could do, was offer her some of what he had obtained as food for his journeys. It wasn't none of the military bars he kept with himself. This time, missing in action and forced on his own, he kept bread, dry meat, and vegetables on a metal case. ]

Have you been safe?

[ John relied on his military mind to guide him. Ensure she was well, that she was protected, and that she was well-fed. Because a part of him almost feared the return to that world, where he almost willingly drowned in a sea of pleasure, after having been away from it for so long.

And just looking at Claire, John remembered those nights with a strange longing. ]

I have. Alone most of the time, and uncomfortable sometimes, but always safe. [ Her gaze followed his movements as he knelt next to her. The offer of food was touching, though not that surprising, from what she remembered of him. She held up her own pack, opening it to let him peek inside.

Claire had her own small assortment of provisions, similar to his. Though instead of vegetables, she had a small container of nuts, seeds, and dried fruit. ]

What about you? How have you been?

[ She absolutely trusted John's ability to take care of himself, to defend himself. But she had been dealing with her own complicated feelings after finding herself suddenly no longer in Parthas, so she was curious about how the change had affected him. ]

[ The Spartan wondered how to explain the years after he left Parthas. Being in other worlds, being forced to rely on his world, returning a stranger to his world, ultimately being forced to return to the multiverse after realizing he didn't fit in... ]

... I've been around.

[ He tilted his helmet as he replied. Then, he lowered his head forward, and removed the seals on the back with the hissing of oxygen.

It laid on his side with a soft thud. John leaned forward, large hand extending some of the meal to Claire, and only some of her old friend's meal with permission. ]

I have completed my mission back home. I've been traveling to other worlds. Performing operations wherever needed. Assisting populaces wherever necessary.

[ There was another reason behind it all. His own scars from Parthas. That same desire for intimacy that remained in the years after. ]

Trying to find where to settle.

[ She gave a nod, indicating that she would share her food. It was only fair, and it reminded her of those times back at Parthas. Had it really been years? She lost track of time easily, especially since she'd been traveling non-stop. ]

I've just been... wandering. Guess I'm trying to find where to settle, too.

[ Which was easier said than done. Claire had gone to places she used to call home, but didn't find any of the people she used to know. She didn't find anything to connect her to her old life before Parthas. Even now was the first time she'd run into anyone else who'd been in that strange place. ]

We could stick together for a while, if you want. I know I'd like the company.

[The first scenario is her default in all matters, but I'm open to anything!]

[ She's driving. ]

( AU version. Open to cross-canon characters! f/m for shipping preferences. )

[character info.]

( canon/AU fantasy settings only, please! so travel by wagon/coach, horseback, on foot. dragon-flying is possible, but not likely? i write him primarily show-based with book stuff to back it up, usually the earlier seasons. but i can do most any canon point.)

( info on the journal! she so would be openly reading a book about murder or something weird to deter people from talking to her, lol. )

[Would absolutely stow away on or even hijack an aircraft/train/spaceship. (Or, on the flipside, help stop someone hijacking the ride she was stowed away on.) Maybe discovery and confrontation ensue, maybe she recruits someone to cover for her... maybe if she plays it cool she can enjoy the ride like a normal passenger?? Can AU/canon-mash as needed.]

[hi! no worries if you're not up for a thread with an OC, but I had to give this a try! basic details on her setting here, and I'm open to mash-up or interdimensional meme travel. happy to switch format if preferred, up to you how friendly/hostile she'd be, I'm up for whatever!]

The person who had sent up the beacon wasn't there any longer. Lieutenant Tayrey had assumed someone was stranded out on this isolated planet, had dutifully taken her little shuttle down for the pickup - only to find it deserted. Opinions were divided as to whether this meant the stranded spacer had already been rescued, or had died, and then this turned to a discussion about what such assumptions meant about each member of the team, and Tayrey had pointed out that if there was a body, it couldn't be close by.

All of which is to say that the little spacer team was very distracted and none of them spotted someone boarding their ship and hiding inside an empty cargo crate.

Tayrey figured it out, not because of any fine-tuned perceptions but because she was piloting. When you're piloting you know if the weight of the craft is off, because it throws out all the calculations. She can adjust, naturally, as she would have if they'd picked up survivors. It's not a problem.

At least, it's not a resource problem. She soon has the other two searching the shuttle, and then she impatiently calls Chernova to the flight console and starts searching herself. It doesn't take long. There in the crate. How could that have gotten in here? It looks like some sort of experimental EVA suit. Tayrey's trying to make sense of it, trying to run the mental analysis, but in the first instance? She's plain confused.

[Sounds right up my alley, and I really like the worldbuilding you have for Ari's setting! 8) Arid's canon is pretty barebones on the wider setting details and it looks like they're on a similar page tech-wise, so maybe we can go with some light canon-mashing? That would probably make her home Federation the much more tightly governed, relatively AI-dependent military power a couple sectors over if that works! Either way I'm happy to figure something out and happy to go with prose format. I figure she'll probably default to pre-emptively mistrustful/belligerent until she knows what the deal is with these humans. lmk if this works!]

Arid knew this was a risk. It wasn't unlikely that an experienced crew would notice something, especially on such a small vessel, and her lure hadn't bought her enough time to try and discard some mass from the shuttle's supplies. She'd taken the best option she had, under the circumstances. Not good enough to avoid this outcome.

It's easy to play possum, slumped limply in the crate like any discarded suit. Her helmet is lolled to one side as she listens to the human above her inhaling with surprise. But she can't just stay like this. There's every chance they'll take her apart, if only to examine her - and that wouldn't hurt, of course, but she'll have a difficult time reassembling herself if they take off both hands. And that's if they don't recognize what she is and do something much worse...

So while the suit seems inert, the AI within is doing two things: first, reaching out to try and access the shuttle's systems, looking for anything that might give her leverage here - even if it's only sealing off the hatch to this cargo space. And second, she's listening carefully, because if this 'lieutenant' draws a breath to alert her crew, Arid's going to have to make a grab for the human to try and muffle her shout. She needs to take control of this situation before it gets out of hand.

[Thank you! This is all perfect and that canon-mashing will work very well I think. Ari's people made a deliberate choice not to create AI, but they can be familiar with other civilizations having it, they're just that bunch of slightly isolationist libertarians who might seem old-fashioned by Federation standards. I'm not familiar with Arid's canon but thought the character concept looked fun! Hope I judged your intention right with the hatch but happy to edit if I didn't - drop me a PM if so. I'm totally fine with minor assumptions/maneuvering of Ari if they get into a physical altercation here!]

Taking the suit apart to examine it is exactly what she has in mind. Had one of the others found it, they might have called back to Tayrey first, alerted her - but she's the one in command here, if she wants to take a closer look, she doesn't need to ask anyone.

Full-sized starships have their computer systems locked down, but on a shuttle like this? Core functions are inaccessible, so no remotely altering course or switching off life support, but there are a lot of auxiliary controls that are only loosely networked. Easy enough for a clever AI to take control of, should they be so inclined.

Unluckily for Tayrey, those controls include the hatch sealing this cargo bay shut. At the soft hissing sound of its closure she whirls around, instantly on high alert. That shouldn't happen. There's no automatic seal on these things. The young lieutenant has an energy pistol clipped to her belt, but that's not what she reaches for. Instead, she goes for the lever on the wall. Manual control, for use in exactly this type of scenario. But when she pulls on it, the hatch doesn't budge. Almost as if it were being overwritten this very moment.

That doesn't make two quarks of sense. It's then that Tayrey reaches for her portable communicator, a little square device, possibly also easy enough to take control of. Regardless, she's so unaware of where the real threat might be coming from that she might not even be able to get out as much as Chernova's name before she's stopped.

[Awesome! We can always handwave any confusion that does come up with cultural differences/different research budgets. And yes, this is perfect! But likewise feel free to thwart any of Arid's attempts to cheat her way to victory and shoot me a message if I should change anything!]

Things might be different if Arid had any idea who these humans are. Or had more experience with this kind of situation. But as it is, she barely knows anything about life inside Federation territory, never mind beyond it. And everything she knows about humans defaults to them being a threat first and foremost.

A threat she has to act fast to try and mitigate, here. While the lieutenant tries to override the hatch, the suit is stirring from the crate behind her. Unnoticed, Arid rises to her feet, faceplate now softly aglow as she moves across the deck, smooth and quiet as a shadow. For all that mass of hers, she's designed to move stealthily. Before the lieutenant can utter a full syllable there's a heavy-duty glove clamping over her mouth, another grabbing her arm as she's dragged off-balance.

"Drop the communications device." Arid's voice is hard and low, each word precisely enunciated. Though her tone is very slightly softer when she adds, "Please."

[So sorry I lost track of this! Still 100% up for it, just bad inbox management on my part - your tag is great.]

The intruder is so silent that the first indication Tayrey has that she's not alone in the cargo is that heavy hand over her mouth. She tenses, instantly. Her instinct is to go for her weapon. It isn't a bad one - and yet she's not quite quick enough, her arm being grabbed and pulled, staggering her.

Despite it all, she doesn't panic. Tayrey's been trained well. She knows how to hold her nerve in a crisis. If this intruder wanted her dead, they could have shot her before she even knew what was happening. That gives her confidence. Courage.

She drops the little device to the ground, very deliberately. As if in fearful surrender. Convincing enough, perhaps, for her attacker to let down their guard for a moment, or so she hopes.

No sooner is it done than Tayrey steps backward, stamping down hard on her assailant's foot with her heavy boot, and attempting a low elbow jab with her free arm, one to catch them in the stomach. She's braced for the impact to hurt her, too, because the sleeves of her uniform are nothing but cloth, but that doesn't matter. She just needs to surprise her opponent, in order to pull herself free.

[No worries, it's all good!]

The hand over Tayrey's mouth relaxes a bit, Arid buying that her intimidation has worked to secure the human's compliance. At least for the second before the lieutenant counterattacks. An elbow hits her midsection, a hard weight coming down on her boot - and both hit hardened plating, much more robust than a normal EVA suit should be. Even so, the impact could well wind the human inside... if there was anyone there. Tayrey can feel the plating flex, the intruder's weight rocking back from the blow - but there's no hiss of breath or grunt of pain.

Arid is surprised, but she's quick to recover. Her grip on Tayrey's arm closes tighter as she shoves the woman against the wall, trying to stop her twisting all the way free in that moment of opportunity.

"Cease!" She sounds annoyed, but her voice doesn't so much as falter after being hit. "I do not want to hurt you!"

Tayrey can't help a sharp, audible intake of breath as her elbow strikes that plating. It's jarring. Painful. Still, it would have been worth it, if the strike had been as effective as she'd hoped it would be. Yet today, probability isn't smiling on her. Before she has a chance to try a different plan of attack, she's up against the wall, hard fingers digging into the flesh of her arm.

With a quick jerk of her head, Tayrey frees her mouth from the hand covering it. 'Then what do you want?!' she exclaims. The words are urgently spoken, and in an authoritative tone that demands an answer, as if the lieutenant were in control here. She's very much not, and all too aware of it, but she's holding firm. The question isn't loud, at least. She's not trying to draw attention from outside the cargo bay. Negotiating from inside it seems like her best option.

The lieutenant isn't easily intimidated; Arid is relieved that she chooses to play along for now. The door is safely sealed, but she doesn't have time to waste on persuasion or coercion. It's a small shuttle. Sooner or later someone else will wonder where their pilot is, or try to come back and assist her. Arid doesn't doubt they have the tools to cut through a malfunctioning hatch if need be. Her control of this situation is very much temporary, and she knows it.

"I require information," she says, her voice low but clear. "Identify your vessel, its affiliation and destination."