[IC] Closed

This will be constantly updated with mission updates and current RP events.

Monetary System and information

Stellar Credits [SC]

Stellar Credits (SC) are a universal monetary system designed to facilitate interstellar trade and economic transactions throughout the universe. It is the primary medium of exchange for transactions between various civilizations, species, and spacefaring entities, providing a standardized unit of value across the vast expanse of the galaxy.

Forms: Stellar Credits can be obtained in both physical and digital form. Physical credits are represented by intricate, holographic, and nanotechnology-enhanced coins and notes, whereas digital credits are stored in secure quantum-encrypted wallets accessible via advanced personal devices.

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The starting wage can be one stellar credit per hour.

Skilled and specialized laborers can earn between 10 and 100 SC per hour.

Professionals (educated) can earn anywhere from 100 to 500 SC per hour. Some societies do participate in annual wages, and these individuals live at least comfortably or slightly better in their society's monetary ranking.

Individuals with higher-ranking roles in society, such as leadership positions, can earn between 500 and 1000 SC per hour. Certain societies have annual wages for these individuals as well, though the majority of society believes that these individuals make too much money.

Interstellar traders and merchants are compensated by commissions or successful transactions, which can range from a few simple SC to thousands of SC per transaction.

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The System of Cost

Currently, the system is harsh in terms of item pricing, particularly for lower-income households.

A loaf of bread or basic ration can cost 5 to 10 SC.

A meal at a common restaurant or food vendor can cost up to 50 SC.

Quality or special foods (chocolate, alcohol, certain spices, and more) can go from 50 to hundreds of SC per item.

Fine dining can be a few hundred to thousands of SC per person.

Food services in Space Stations Or Orbital Habitats are higher than they are on planets or places with direct food contact. For a standard meal, it can cost anywhere from 50 to a few hundred SC each.

Imported or exotic foods do not go under a few hundred credits and can be over a thousand credits per item.

[The Savant]

ᖽᐸᗩᒪᖇᓰᖶᕼ Sᓍᖇᘿᕲᘿᘉ

&
Mister Alaric Voss
some vibes

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A confident and proud man saunters through the bustling crowds of the Dakarin lunar space station. As he made his way into the lively parts of the merchant and trader complex, everything around him appeared to be in even more disarray. The man, who was well-dressed and had messy black hair, seemed at ease in the maze of booths and stalls.

When he walks into a building, his red skin catches the artificial light, and his yellow eyes scan the people in the room behind darken shades. He was careless for he didn't put out his cigarillo before entering the metal-framed structure. It appeared to be a bar or an adult club of some kind. His short raven black hair shifted slightly as his head rolled onto his shoulders, followed by a crack. Amid interstellar commerce, he couldn't help but appear and move with sophistication.

Kalrith approached a fellow businessman, a stout figure with a shrewd expression, after spotting the designated meeting point. "Alaric, my friend," he said with a charismatic grin, "I hope you're keeping the seat warm for me." Kalrith sat down in the dimly lit backroom. Allowing himself to become so relaxed that his finely polished shoes were propped up on the table, his legs crossed at the ankles.

"Always fashionably late," the man grumbled as he made a gesture. A gesture that Kalrith did not act on. "I've got the news that can't wait, my friend," he mockingly repeated the last part of his sentence before gesticulating once more, and a waitress got the message. She vanished into the crowd to get them drinks.

"Well, you know me, Alaric," the devilish man said as he leaned back in his chair. "My trademark is being fashionably late," he joked with the man, smiling to show his teeth. He had canine teeth that were longer than those of humans. In some ways, it resembled a beast or was more animalistic.

"So, here's the deal," Alaric chuckled before forming a smirk on his lips. "I have a job that is delicate in nature. Nothing too fancy in terms of retrieval. Valuable package requires a discrete touch," the man said with his hands most of the time, but he kept rubbing his nose with his pointer finger. Something bothered him.

"Retrieval, eh?" Kalrith inquired, raising a brow. "You know how I feel about sensitive issues. Alaric, details, details..." The man tapped his fingers on the table's metal surface. His neatly kept nails tapped with an echo that was muffled by the background chatter and music.

"Classified," the man leaned in on his elbows as if to whisper or get closer to Kalrith. "All you need to know is that it's a high-security facility on the outer rim. You'll have to sneak in, grab the package, and get out without raising any suspicions."

As he heard the word classified, his yellow eyes fell into thought; he despised it when people mocked him in this way. - classified my ass - He thought without any distinction of unpleasantness in his mood, "High stakes, high reward, I assume?" he replied with a nod. He needed more information.

Mister Alaric kept his smirk on, knowing exactly where Kalrith was going with that question, "You catch on quickly, my friend." Now comes the payment. "I've got 10,000 Stellars on the table," the man said, motioning as if 10,000 credits were an acceptable payment for this job. It was true to a point. They both knew Kalrith was going to argue with him.

"Alaric, my dear friend —" Kalrith said, slipping his legs from the table and leaning forward, "— you're robbing me blind here." Retrieval missions aren't for the faint of heart. "How about we raise it to 15,000 for classification?" Kalrith was always willing to haggle over the price.

"Kalrith, you're as relentless as ever," Alaric chuckled as he shook his head in the negative. "Fine, 12,000, and not a credit more," the man knew Kalrith and his ever-changing crew could do almost anything he wanted. Kalrith always seemed to keep his promises.

"You drive a hard bargain, Alaric," Kalrith smirked, there was a certain tone and twist to the red man's tongue when he said Alaric's name. "When it comes to a classified mission, I can't do twelve. Tell me what is classified or increase it to 15,000," With his words, his tone seemed to become more solemn. When it came to his crew, he didn't mess around.

As Kalrith became more stubborn and his eyes sharpened, the man seemed to sigh, and a lingering silence formed between them. "Fine," said the man. "As always, it's a pleasure doing business with you," Alaric leaned back, raising the glass that the server had just set down. "To success and minimal casualties!"

"To discretion and the allure of cosmic capers," Kalrith raised the other glass, and they both took the shots with ease. As the men let go of the glasses, they clicked to the table almost simultaneously.

"Speaking of allure, did you hear about the space pirate who stole a shipment of knockoff designer spacesuits?" Alaric grinned and decided to continue their social time together. "They claim he made a clean getaway in stellar style."

"A classic, Alaric," Kalrith chuckled, his pearly whites showing, knowing the man was testing a joke to freshen the air between them. He always did this after the bargaining part of their conversation. "But enough with the capers. What's new with you?" the man inquired, genuinely interested.

Their conversation seemed to seamlessly transition into small talk, the backroom buzzing with subdued laughter and glasses clinking. Kalrith, the charismatic figure, decides to loosen up as the mood lightens. He signals for a shot of the finest Dakarin spirit with a confident nod. Kalrith raises the glass in a toast before downing the shot, sealing the deal and embracing the intrigue of yet another interstellar adventure with a sly grin.

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Mission

Client:
Mister Alaric Voss

Objective:
Retrieval Mission. The mission entails infiltrating a high-security facility on Veridian IX's remote outer rim planet and retrieving a classified package of enormous value to Mr. Voss and his intricate network of interests.

Extra Information:
The high-security facility, which is nestled within the desolate Veridian IX, is said to house classified information, advanced technology, or an elusive artifact. The specifics are unknown, but the value of the package is undeniable, making this retrieval mission-critical.

The facility has cutting-edge security systems, such as surveillance drones, biometric scanners, and automated defense mechanisms. Furthermore, the harsh environmental conditions on Veridian IX, which include unpredictable weather patterns and corrosive atmospheric elements, add an extra layer of complexity to the operation.

Package Details:
The package can be identified by the ID#A2B4C7D9E1F3G5H8.

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As he met with a business associate, Kalrith told the crew to wait on the ship, explore the Lunar station, or do whatever their hearts desired. He then gave each of them 350 credits for good behavior. Crew members who have known Kalrith for a longer time would recognize that he was meeting with a business partner whom he values because he is being generous.

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Location Dakarin Lunar Space Station or DLSS

[Expendable]

There was fried chicken in the galley. FRIED CHICKEN! Probably the most sinful, fattening food there could ever be!

Darya smiled and took a bite, listening to the crackle of the breaded coating as she chews and swallows.

Sweat beaded on her forehead as her smile froze, her gut rippling with cramping muscle and discouraging noises.

"Oh..." she managed, before dashing off for the nearest bathroom.

The door to her cabin slid open. For a moment, Darya stood there, gathering herself, then with a groan she gingerly stepped inside. A glance at the mirror, her clothes were all askew. One might think she'd returned from a wild party, until they got a whiff from her that could choke a goat.

Her stomach growled. With a sigh, she fumbled for the nearest box, pulling out a cold metal bottle of Special Dietary Supplement MLS-2. Somehow she managed to twist off the cap, then her thirst took over, upending the flask. A trickle of red began to run down her cheek. All too soon, it was empty. Darya shook it, then tried tapping the bottom to get one more drop. In frustration, she crushed the metal bottle in her fist, then tossed it towards the waste bin, only to hear it clatter on the floor.

Darya glanced towards the open box, wanting a second - but instead, she staggered over to her rack and slid inside as the fluid churned in her stomach. A tube of her chocolate buttons was there in the book rack, Darya took a few and slipped the tube back to where she found it, then sighed, chewing the chocolate, hoping to drive the foulness from her tastebuds.

How could anything so good taste so incredibly... bad.

Grabbing a throw pillow, she curled herself around it.

[CleverFox]

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Kimara sighs standing from the ship’s piloting seat with a stretch looking at the bustling bay of the landing dock. Kalrith had so generously offered her this job while she was on another job that ultimately fell through. Kalrith had told her that a surprise had been put in her quarters at the Lunar spaceport. Turning on her heel she makes her way towards the exit of her ship grabbing her bag as she went.

No one paid her any mind as she made her way in, busy with their own tasks. Kimara stopped for a moment looking around before deciding to head to the dormitory wing to unpack. She walked by a door where she heard some crashes. Kimara stops a moment before shrugging and making her way to her room. A little quicker not to get caught up in what was going on in the room she just passed.

She comes to her room and the door opens with a swoosh the air hit her with the smell of cleaner. Kimara walks in whistling, pressing a button to turn on the lights and another to lock the door. It was a simple room; a bed to the far left side to the room, a dresser directly in front of her by a window showing space along with part of what used to be “earth”, a counter to the right with some cups and a drink. Along with all that Kimara saw what Kalrith was talking about in terms of a present.

A nice bag of 350 credits. It made Kimara smile before she started unpacking.

[anothered]

C L O V E R

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Clover laid sensually on a loveseat in her office as if she were awaiting bad news. Supposedly, the older a person is, the faster they perceive time - when years feel like days, what kind of life will she lead? Clover sunk deeper into the chair’s cushion imagining it was the molten embrace of a star. She collapsed into the plasma, her parts disintegrating as they shed off of her amorphous body. Home; like a goldfish dropped into a bowl - of fire.

As Clover contemplated her age, she had an epiphany: she’s not that old, she’s definitely not that old because the day was moving so @#$%ing slowly. All of a sudden, Clover had broken free of the gravity of her ennui. She propelled herself upwards in one slick movement and made her way to a small storage cupboard connected to her office. It’s clunking metal door slid open to reveal a walk-in closet small enough for one person.

This tiny sanctuary held tickets and trinkets from various configurations of crews she’d worked with. It was a one metre squared time capsule lit by an eclectic assortment of stringed lights and bulbs. One wall held a full length mirror plastered with photographs, another was lined with alchemy droors containing mementos and the third was fitted with a rail that hung the most incohesive collection of clothes found anywhere in the fashionable universe.

Clover loathed wearing clothes, however, were she to step out onto Dakarin exposed, she’d likely be hacked up by moon merchants and sold for parts. She put on a purple high neck sweater with four arms and a comedic quip in an alien language, a tartan pair of pants with flares and finally a carbon black gothic cloak. Clover looked in the mirror, satisfied she was suitably concealed and immediately synced with the ship’s intercoms.

“Attention crew, this is an emergency! The ship is malfunctioning - WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE. Your tiny little short lives are too precious, please evacuate immediately and meet me outside… with credits.” She cried. Her melodramatic appeal could be heard in each nook and cranny of the ship. Clover had made her way outside down the ramp. She pulled up her hood and waited for her crew mates with a devious smile.

[The Savant]

ᖽᐸᗩᒪᖇᓰᖶᕼ Sᓍᖇᘿᕲᘿᘉ

&
Mister Alaric Voss
some vibes

---

His golden eyes strained to see nothing — what a clean floor for such a rusted and filthy building —, and panic began to rise in his stomach. — What a lovely floor... — His brain was analyzing the lack of information beneath and around him. There was no divinely inspired cloud of fluff of innocence. Most individuals would be unable to deal with such speed. Before, a hum began to burn through the air. CRASH!!!

The man was bouncing his toes and glancing about while on the heels of his slick shoes. As the deep golden glow flared into the scorching coals of a fire, his eyes burned with wrath. — Oseillie, where have you gone?!? —

BAAhh!!

His shoulders felt instant relief as he allowed his head to roll while keeping his eyes closed, a loud crack muted by the music and commotion that rattled the little establishment. His secret shades of gold scowled at Alaric. "We're presumably done here. I'll see you later." With a casual expression, the man pointed to the door and spun on his heel. The man was not being gestured at by him. A motion in the direction of a lamb, a smaller life. At the gesture, she bounced and made a playful move towards Kalrith, then leaped back and trotted in the direction of the door.

The man who worked with the devil remained seated at the table, shaking his head negatively, "What a strange man... a peculiar one indeed, " he reflected on himself before firing off another shot with the skill of a seasoned alcoholic.

Kalrith was headed back to the ship, desperate to leave this miserable artificial platform. Before he had to ruin everyone's fun and summon them back to the ship to explain everything, he at least wanted to get back on board and unwind. It wasn't really complicated. It was a simple stop-and-go situation, so he was hoping that no one would bother him or that he would leave them behind.

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Location Dakarin Lunar Space Station or DLSS

[CleverFox]

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Kimara looked up at the ceiling where the announcement came from. There were no alarms, or any warnings or anything. She looks around trying to see if she had officially gone blind and deaf but no. Who would believe that? The Zehoberei stopped for a moment before sighing, putting her jacket back on.

“Not everyone is you, Kim.” She mutters as made her way back through the door,”Not all have a brain,”She says looking around seeing some more gullible members making their way to the bay. Kimara had the patience to stop a small group of them before deciding that it was not worth trying to explain.

Kimara was curious who made that announcement and made her way to the bay herself. She walked in looking around as people were told by the ship engineers that, no there was no malfunction and get back to work. Kimara chuckled a bit watching it before turning to go back when she saw Kalrith. She went to say hello but saw the look on his face.

That’s not a friendly face, and she doesn’t want to lose her job immediately, so she goes to walk about. Got to learn the lay of the ship if she is going to be basically a glorified bodyguard.

[Expendable]

Darya glanced at a status panel on the wall next to her bunk, seeing everything was normal, then curled back up around the pillow, her hands balling up into fists. Damn whoever that was for getting her hopes up.

Her stomach gurgled, still unsettled by the fried chicken and working its way through the gloop she just drank and the aftertaste it left in her mouth, all the preservatives.

I miss real food, Darya sighs. Pizza, eggs over easy, pancakes with syrup, waffles, oranges, bananas, grilled cheese sandwiches, rubens, burgers, corn on the cob, potato salad, ham salad, sourdough, pumpernickel.... Ice cream!

"Stop it," she whispered. "You'll only make yourself hungry...!"

Her stomach growled.

The dreams were going to be bad tonight.

"Restraints," she ordered, holding out her arms and spreading her legs for the automatic cuffs, then pulling against them after they clicked shut. Hopefully that would keep her from walking in her sleep.