Fic: Some Vacation (Star Ocean 2, Claude/Opera)
Title: Some Vacation
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Claude/Opera
Author/artist: Swift
Recipient: Salty Bob
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
Prompt: The two of them end up isolated in a dangerous place (during the game or at some point after one of their endings) and have to depend on each other to fight their way out of a bad situation, with lots of action, snark, wry humor and sexual chemistry heightened by adrenaline. Any rating.
"The warp drive core is definitely busted." Opera's head poked up out of the engine room door set into the floor. "And that's way out of my league of fixing. I think we're stuck here until someone figures out where we are. Too bad this place isn't anywhere near as nice as Expel was to be stranded on."
"If this was Expel, we wouldn't be stranded. They've got ships coming and going all the time now." Claude had stayed on the deck, because he was beyond useless when it came to repairing heavy machinery. "Computer says this planet isn't anywhere near the level of even Expel, too. Well, I guess we could think of it like a vacation. If we tried really hard."
"Some vacation, sitting around in our wreck until someone answers our distress beacon." Opera pulled herself up out of the trapdoor and closed it behind her. "I mean, it beats sitting around and smiling at foreign dignitaries all day, but it would be nice if we could manage to crash-land on a planet with electricity and running water for once." She leaned over Claude’s shoulder, reaching over to type an inquiry into the computer herself. "We really ended up way out in the middle of nowhere, didn’t we? It’ll probably take them forever just to figure out there’s a beacon in this system at all, even with my family out looking."
"Your family?" Claude asked, amused. "As I recall, it wasn’t your father who found the distress signal on Expel."
"And who was rude enough not to beam me out of there with you even though Expel was about to collide with another planet, right?" She didn’t say anything about Ernest Raviede or the fact that he’d been somewhere on the planet when it had happened. She never did, even after they’d managed to save Expel-- and especially not after a Federation presence was established on Expel and the opportunity for Ernest to walk in the door and find an immediate ride back to Tetragenesis was there for him to take at any time. Either he was dead or he didn’t want to be found, and both options had to have been equally difficult for Opera. "I had a distress signal too, you know."
"What was I supposed to say? Hey, Dad, I need you to drop everything and keep your Federation battleship in the path of an oncoming high-energy body so you can beam up this UP3-breaking criminal I arrested?" Claude pushed her hair off his shoulders and over the back of the seat where it belonged. "What are you looking up?"
"That might have been a good start. Or you could have told him that I was a member of a noble house and letting me get vaporized would have destroyed relations with the entire Tetragenesis system, but I guess there wasn’t time for that much talking." She stopped typing and moved around to the side of the chair. "Move over. I’m too short to keep reaching around you. And I’m looking up information on the system here and getting a scan of the nearby area, to see if we can’t get some clues about what’s out there before we have to leave." Claude did as she asked, getting up and letting her have the seat in front of the main computer. He walked around the back of the chair and draped himself over it, leaning over in the same position Opera had stood in a moment earlier. Since he was considerably taller, she was considerably shorter, and he didn’t have a wild mane of hair that got in her face, it was much more convenient for him to be there.
"No Federation presence in most of this sector," Claude read aloud from the screen. "We really did end up in the middle of nowhere. I’m… not really sure that waiting here for them is an option, with as far off the regular routes as we are." It was always a risk of taking shortcuts in warp space, ending up in a place you hadn’t quite expected because you were ejected from the space before you reached your destination. It was a very new and sometimes unstable technology, one that not even the entire Federation fleet had embraced yet. The Tetrageniots had thrown themselves into it full force, though, and naturally Opera wouldn’t pilot anything than the newest and flashiest ship in the Tetragenesis system. "I’m never taking your warp ships anywhere again."
"Half the Federation fleet’s moved to it. You’re going to have to, eventually." Opera brought up the next screen, detailing the scan. "There’s almost nothing in the database about this place, except that it has the proper gravity and atmospheric makeup to support Federation-standard humanoid life." Which was to say, Humans and Tetrageniots, since out of all the races in the Federation’s sphere of influence they were the only two that really took a proactive role in exploration and military affairs. "And that it has sufficient vegetation, mineral makeup, and animal life to sustain humanoids in the long-term. Sentient civilization has been confirmed, with a technology level equivalent to that of a modern but pre-industrial humanoid society. Good, that means I can carry a gun."
"Not the kinds of guns you have!" Claude protested. "I don’t think there’s any way anyone could mistake what you’re carrying for a black powder rifle, or whatever it is they’re using here."
"At least they’ll understand the concept of ‘pull the trigger, something comes out of the barrel,’ not like on Expel." Opera smiled and reached up to touch the screen and bring up a different dialog. "I mean, I guess you don’t need to develop firearms on a world where people can actually throw fire around, but still. It was weird." She’d never gotten into heraldry on Expel, preferring to stick with the science she knew over the magic she didn’t. "And don’t worry, I won’t bring a missile launcher with me this time. I’ll admit, that might have been overkill."
"Just a little," Claude agreed mildly. "Going to stick with the pulse gun the size of your whole body, then? Or is a regular phase pistol good enough for you now?"
"I guess I could stick to something smaller." She paused, and pursed her lips slightly. "On second thought, though, a world this marginally advanced would mean that people could go looting this place instead of writing it off as demonic or holy or otherwise untouchable. I don’t want to lose the Kaleidoscope. Not that anybody here would know what to do with it or be able to aim it even if they did--" Opera’s prized ray gun took the depth perception of all three of her eyes to aim with any reasonable sort of accuracy "-- but I still wouldn’t want them getting their hands on it."
"Sometimes I think you like that gun more than you do me." He reached over to bring up an entirely different dialog box on the screen, one outlining all known details of the sentient civilization on the planet that had been gleaned from a rudimentary survey of the sector.
"I like you and the gun in very different ways. Sadly, not even Tetragenesis has come up with a Kaleidoscope that’s very good in bed." She slapped his hand away from the screen. "Although it doesn’t click out of what I’m reading while I’m in the middle of it. We need the surrounding terrain scan, unless you want to climb out of the hatch and fall down into a hole or something."
"Unless I use the incredible technology called looking before I go," Claude teased. "Or even better yet, use the upgraded version of having the woman with three eyes look for me." He went back to the scan she’d started running a moment before, though. "It doesn’t look like there’s anything nearby except animals-- wait, there’s something really weird coming up here. Is there anything in the database about any ships going missing in this sector?"
"Stop messing with that." Opera swung the cursor back where she wanted it with a flick of her fingers and started scrolling through the contents of the scan. "I see what you mean, though. That’s definitely an anomaly… although the elemental composition doesn’t match up to any alloy used by the Earth Federation in the past century, as far back as the cross-section in our database goes. It’s either so old it doesn’t matter, or it’s from outside Federated space. Way outside Federated space." The systems closest to the Federation, even the ones that resisted joining, were entered into the database for identification as neutral parties. It avoided a lot of headaches (and accidental loss of ships from shooting first and asking later) on both sides. Which meant that, unless what they were reading on the scan was ancient-- a technological anomaly or the ruin of a pre-Federation civilization-- or it was from somewhere they’d never heard of before. "No humanoid-size life is registering on the scan, though, so it’s probably old." Size was the common factor that sentient races seemed to have, no matter what more radical differences were between them.
"Probably," Claude agreed. "Still, it can’t hurt to be careful. There could still be sensors or weapons there, whatever it is." He paused for a moment before grinning. "Want to check it out?"
"Of course I do." She pressed the buttons to begin the computer’s sleep sequence, to conserve the remaining power while they were gone; the only things that would stay on were the security measures and the broadcast of the distress signal. "Let’s go."
---
"I guess we were right about this thing being old," Opera said, looking up at the rusted-out hull of what probably used to be a spaceworthy craft but was now just scrap metal. "I mean, how long has it been since anyone used an alloy that would rust to travel in space? I don’t think the Federation ever did that, and I know we never did." We still meant Tetregenesis, even though they’d joined the Federation, and probably always would. They were too proud to identify only as the member of a larger whole.
"I was kind of hoping it would still be functional. Who knows, maybe they would have better broadcasting equipment than we do." Of course, that begged the question of why they would still be on this backwater planet with a level of technology from the eighteenth century A.D. on Earth, but there could have been a hundred different answers to that with absolutely nothing to do with malfunctioning equipment-- they could have been from a world whose atmospheric conditions didn't match this one's, or they could have starved or been killed by the native civilization or they could have even come here on purpose and assimilated.
"I don't think anyone still using steel has better equipment than we do." Still, she leveled the scanner at the wreckage just to be on the safe side. After what had happened on Expel, neither one of them was going to underestimate the less than sophisticated planets. "Nope, not getting anything. Seems like the people living here gutted this thing a long time ago, whatever it really was."
"Lucky for them these guys were still using metal they could work with-- hey, what was that?" Claude startled, turning around and trying to catch sight of something behind him. It had been moving too fast for him to see, though, and he reflexively put a hand on his sword hilt.
"It looked like a dog." Opera, however, had three eyes to follow it with, a quad scanner, and had been facing the right way. "Stop jumping. I told you already, nothing big enough to be sentient came up on the scan. You're the one who put so much faith in having me look out for you. Unless you think this planet is full of sentient dogs who run around on all fours and managed to invent gunpowder, we're safe."
"I think the report might have mentioned that if it was the case," Claude admitted. "But here's a thought-- if this is so old they were using steel for some of the parts, why did it pop on our scanner at all? It should be in line with this planet's level of technology, and the scan would have passed over it no matter what trace elements were in it. There's gotta be something around here that still works."
"Hm… buried, maybe? It's probably been here long enough." Opera shut down the scanner, because they knew they were at the site and it wouldn't do to let the power drain while they were away from the ship. "Probably nothing we can use, though, and I'm not going to go digging on the of chance it is still working. Assuming that it's even something that would help us right now, even if it was working." She wandered forward, getting closer to the remains of the hull. "It looks like something's written on here, but it's not anything I can read-- even with the communicator on." It was from far outside Federated space, after all; the communicators were usually good at deciphering spoken words even from unrecorded languages because of their learning algorithm and the universal social cues humanoids had, but written words and sign languages had a much steeper translation curve.
Claude advanced, too, coming up to stand next to her. He couldn't even make out that there were letters on the side from this distance, but then again, she did have much better eyesight than he did and some education in archaeology to boot. If she said it looked like writing, then it looked like writing. And if it really was writing, and wasn't too degraded for an accurate assessment-- which was definitely a possibility, given how old it had to be-- that meant they probably wouldn't be able to figure out or use whatever it was setting off their scanner even if they found it by some miracle and it worked by some greater miracle.
"How about we go take a look at something more interesting?" Opera suggested. "This isn't exactly my idea of great scenery, regardless of all the stories my parents told you about me running off to ruins." Her lips thinned slightly on those words, because the only reason she had done any archaeology or run off to any ruins was to follow Ernest. "We should probably stick closer to the ship, anyway. We wouldn't want anyone trying to get into it-- as much fun as I had breaking the UP3 once, doing it while we've waiting on a rescue probably isn't a good idea."
"Probably not." Claude didn't laugh at the joke, because Opera's expression was still strained. He didn't need to have three eyes to see that she was upset. "Although it might be worth it for the look on my dad's face." Ronixis Kenni hadn't been terribly pleased when his son had left the military after his initial deployment was up, and Opera could just imagine the scene that would ensue if Claude actually did pull a stunt like intentionally breaking a major Federation law. It would make the "What do you mean, you're leaving the military?" fight look like father-son bonding.
"Worth it for me, maybe." Opera did manage a smile at that one. "Not for you."
"And what kind of man would I be if I didn't make sacrifices for a lady?" He took one last look around the perimeter before deciding that no, there really wasn't anything there. Besides maybe a dog, anyway.
"One who doesn't want to get strangled by his father?" She suggested, slipping an arm through his and leading him out back onto the trail as if she were presenting him at a ball on Tetragenesis IV. Now there was something to make the aforementioned fight between Ronixis and Claude look like father-son bonding, the political mess that had ensued when four or five very important young men in the star system realized that Opera Vectra had brought an Earthling back with her instead of eccentric, uncouth Ernest Raviede.
"Well, when you put it like that…" Claude teased, and she finally did laugh then. "Would you settle for a sacrifice that didn't involve my dad killing me for committing an interplanetary felony?"
"I suppose," Opera said, pretending to be barely-mollified by the offer. "After all, I haven't perfected your replacement yet." She gestured to the Kaleidoscope strapped across her back. "I think I'm getting close, though."
"Ah, but can it do this?" He leaned in and kissed her, and if her kissing back was any indication then no, the Kaleidoscope could not do that yet.
"Like I said," she murmured after she pulled away, smiling, "I haven't perfected it yet. In a--" she was cut off when something crashed in the distance. "Damnit. That doesn't sound good."
"No," Claude agreed. "It doesn't."
They ran the rest of the way to the clearing; Opera even took off her shoes because she could go faster without the heels in the way. It probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had, running barefoot on a strange planet, but better to get treated for some bizarre alien strain of athlete's foot than to get stuck on the bizarre alien planet forever because someone or something had trashed their distress beacon.
"Too bad they don't have bunnies." Claude was actually mostly being serious about that, even though he was remembering the first time either of them had seen one of the monstrous riding rabbits on Expel. I'd take a public bus over that, Opera had said faintly, as if that was the worst form of transportation she could think of.
"You know, I almost agree with you there." Opera stopped to put her shoes back on as they reached their downed ship, because running barefoot and fighting barefoot were two very different things. The latter tended to involve a much greater likelihood of stepping on something sharp and conveniently-placed. Claude took the opportunity to take the scanner from her and do a quick look-over of the area. There was no one in sight, but there were definitely humanoids on the scan now. Four or five of them, at least-- he couldn't tell their size or density just from the scan without knowing what planet they were from. Density was actually a surprisingly good indicator of origin-- Tetrageniots, for example, packed a lot more mass into the same size space as Earthlings-- but wouldn't do much if racial parameters weren't entered.
Scan complete. No entry exists for the given parameters scrolled across the screen.
"Who's there?" Claude asked sharply. Neither of them was expecting anything worse than what the archived survey report had said, black powder rifles and perhaps, if the natives felt threatened enough by the ship, some rudimentary artillery. And that was why it was such a surprise when what was unmistakably a phase beam streaked past him and hit a tree behind him. It wasn't the most advanced phase weapon-- Claude could smell the ozone from where he was standing, and Federation weapons hadn't reeked like that in decades-- but it was definitely something that shouldn't have been there.
"I think we know whose joke of a ship that was," Opera muttered, swinging her gun down in one practiced motion. She leveled it towards the ship's hatch, where someone was definitely lurking. "Get back from there!" The communicator wouldn't translate perfectly, but it would hopefully get her point across to the people listening. Either it worked less than spectacularly or-- more likely-- these people weren't going to be dissuaded by one small woman telling them to back off. Claude drew his sword, because if Opera wasn't able to scare them off from a distance this was going to turn messy.
Opera braced the butt of the gun on the ground to absorb the recoil (because as advanced as technology had gotten, they still hadn't escaped the basic laws of physics) and fired, sending a phase beam up and splitting it so that it rained down in a circle around them. He never had figured out just how she'd gotten an energy cartridge to do that, but it always looked really impressive. And it did seem to impress their mysterious visitors, sending the one nearest the hatch skittering back into the shadows. Even before the glow from that shot had fizzled out she was fiddling with more buttons on the gun in anticipation of retaliatory fire, and the beam shield went up just in time for the next round of phase fire to ricochet off it and head back out in all directions.
"We're screwed if this turns into a firefight," Claude said quietly. Opera would be busy enough just holding up the beam shield, and he wasn't exactly equipped to snipe people from a distance at this point. It was almost enough to make him wish he was still with the military, if only because that would mean he had to carry a phase gun on him at all times (and after the mess he'd gotten into on Milokeenia and Expel, he wouldn't have disregarded that policy ever again). He could do a few things from far away, but nothing that was going to break through Opera's shield.
"We've been in way worse. You'll just have to start dodging when I take this down." Opera adjusted the various buttons and dials that would change the gun's fire, and the shield dissolved almost immediately. The prospect of another scatter shot like the one they'd gotten before, however, seemed to be enough to convince the interlopers to stand back and keep their hands off the ship. "…or not, since I guess they've got some sense after all."
"Maybe not," Claude corrected as they regrouped, falling into the proper stance. "How many times do you think we'll have to knock them down before they get some?"
"Good question." Opera smiled as she braced herself to fire again. "How many times did it take you?"
"I couldn't tell you, since it hasn't worked yet. I get the feeling they're the same way." Claude got himself out of her line of fire, and advanced on their new visitors.
They were going to be very busy until their signal got answered, it seemed. Some vacation.
notes: I shamelessly plundered a lot of background information about the time period from the dictionary in Star Ocean 3, including the spelling of 'Milokeenia' over 'Milocinia' for the planet where Star Ocean 2 began (I've used SO3's spelling because it is the vastly superior translation and is thus more likely correct). Expel joined the Earth Federation five years after Star Ocean 2 took place (and Precis' father figured out how to stop the Sorcery Globe's taint around the same time), which dates this to about halfway between the game's end and that time. Timeline notes aside, this assumes the ending where Claude accompanies Opera back to Tetragenesis and therefore (1) a well-established relationship already existing between the two and (2) Ernest remaining on Expel, since recruiting him into the party makes any other ending for Opera difficult. The dynamic between them is also partly determined by the ending, since that would be the ending one gets if Claude's affection points are greater than Opera's.
Fandom: Star Ocean 2
Pairing: Claude/Opera
Author/artist: Swift
Recipient: Salty Bob
Rating: PG
Warnings: None, really.
Prompt: The two of them end up isolated in a dangerous place (during the game or at some point after one of their endings) and have to depend on each other to fight their way out of a bad situation, with lots of action, snark, wry humor and sexual chemistry heightened by adrenaline. Any rating.
"The warp drive core is definitely busted." Opera's head poked up out of the engine room door set into the floor. "And that's way out of my league of fixing. I think we're stuck here until someone figures out where we are. Too bad this place isn't anywhere near as nice as Expel was to be stranded on."
"If this was Expel, we wouldn't be stranded. They've got ships coming and going all the time now." Claude had stayed on the deck, because he was beyond useless when it came to repairing heavy machinery. "Computer says this planet isn't anywhere near the level of even Expel, too. Well, I guess we could think of it like a vacation. If we tried really hard."
"Some vacation, sitting around in our wreck until someone answers our distress beacon." Opera pulled herself up out of the trapdoor and closed it behind her. "I mean, it beats sitting around and smiling at foreign dignitaries all day, but it would be nice if we could manage to crash-land on a planet with electricity and running water for once." She leaned over Claude’s shoulder, reaching over to type an inquiry into the computer herself. "We really ended up way out in the middle of nowhere, didn’t we? It’ll probably take them forever just to figure out there’s a beacon in this system at all, even with my family out looking."
"Your family?" Claude asked, amused. "As I recall, it wasn’t your father who found the distress signal on Expel."
"And who was rude enough not to beam me out of there with you even though Expel was about to collide with another planet, right?" She didn’t say anything about Ernest Raviede or the fact that he’d been somewhere on the planet when it had happened. She never did, even after they’d managed to save Expel-- and especially not after a Federation presence was established on Expel and the opportunity for Ernest to walk in the door and find an immediate ride back to Tetragenesis was there for him to take at any time. Either he was dead or he didn’t want to be found, and both options had to have been equally difficult for Opera. "I had a distress signal too, you know."
"What was I supposed to say? Hey, Dad, I need you to drop everything and keep your Federation battleship in the path of an oncoming high-energy body so you can beam up this UP3-breaking criminal I arrested?" Claude pushed her hair off his shoulders and over the back of the seat where it belonged. "What are you looking up?"
"That might have been a good start. Or you could have told him that I was a member of a noble house and letting me get vaporized would have destroyed relations with the entire Tetragenesis system, but I guess there wasn’t time for that much talking." She stopped typing and moved around to the side of the chair. "Move over. I’m too short to keep reaching around you. And I’m looking up information on the system here and getting a scan of the nearby area, to see if we can’t get some clues about what’s out there before we have to leave." Claude did as she asked, getting up and letting her have the seat in front of the main computer. He walked around the back of the chair and draped himself over it, leaning over in the same position Opera had stood in a moment earlier. Since he was considerably taller, she was considerably shorter, and he didn’t have a wild mane of hair that got in her face, it was much more convenient for him to be there.
"No Federation presence in most of this sector," Claude read aloud from the screen. "We really did end up in the middle of nowhere. I’m… not really sure that waiting here for them is an option, with as far off the regular routes as we are." It was always a risk of taking shortcuts in warp space, ending up in a place you hadn’t quite expected because you were ejected from the space before you reached your destination. It was a very new and sometimes unstable technology, one that not even the entire Federation fleet had embraced yet. The Tetrageniots had thrown themselves into it full force, though, and naturally Opera wouldn’t pilot anything than the newest and flashiest ship in the Tetragenesis system. "I’m never taking your warp ships anywhere again."
"Half the Federation fleet’s moved to it. You’re going to have to, eventually." Opera brought up the next screen, detailing the scan. "There’s almost nothing in the database about this place, except that it has the proper gravity and atmospheric makeup to support Federation-standard humanoid life." Which was to say, Humans and Tetrageniots, since out of all the races in the Federation’s sphere of influence they were the only two that really took a proactive role in exploration and military affairs. "And that it has sufficient vegetation, mineral makeup, and animal life to sustain humanoids in the long-term. Sentient civilization has been confirmed, with a technology level equivalent to that of a modern but pre-industrial humanoid society. Good, that means I can carry a gun."
"Not the kinds of guns you have!" Claude protested. "I don’t think there’s any way anyone could mistake what you’re carrying for a black powder rifle, or whatever it is they’re using here."
"At least they’ll understand the concept of ‘pull the trigger, something comes out of the barrel,’ not like on Expel." Opera smiled and reached up to touch the screen and bring up a different dialog. "I mean, I guess you don’t need to develop firearms on a world where people can actually throw fire around, but still. It was weird." She’d never gotten into heraldry on Expel, preferring to stick with the science she knew over the magic she didn’t. "And don’t worry, I won’t bring a missile launcher with me this time. I’ll admit, that might have been overkill."
"Just a little," Claude agreed mildly. "Going to stick with the pulse gun the size of your whole body, then? Or is a regular phase pistol good enough for you now?"
"I guess I could stick to something smaller." She paused, and pursed her lips slightly. "On second thought, though, a world this marginally advanced would mean that people could go looting this place instead of writing it off as demonic or holy or otherwise untouchable. I don’t want to lose the Kaleidoscope. Not that anybody here would know what to do with it or be able to aim it even if they did--" Opera’s prized ray gun took the depth perception of all three of her eyes to aim with any reasonable sort of accuracy "-- but I still wouldn’t want them getting their hands on it."
"Sometimes I think you like that gun more than you do me." He reached over to bring up an entirely different dialog box on the screen, one outlining all known details of the sentient civilization on the planet that had been gleaned from a rudimentary survey of the sector.
"I like you and the gun in very different ways. Sadly, not even Tetragenesis has come up with a Kaleidoscope that’s very good in bed." She slapped his hand away from the screen. "Although it doesn’t click out of what I’m reading while I’m in the middle of it. We need the surrounding terrain scan, unless you want to climb out of the hatch and fall down into a hole or something."
"Unless I use the incredible technology called looking before I go," Claude teased. "Or even better yet, use the upgraded version of having the woman with three eyes look for me." He went back to the scan she’d started running a moment before, though. "It doesn’t look like there’s anything nearby except animals-- wait, there’s something really weird coming up here. Is there anything in the database about any ships going missing in this sector?"
"Stop messing with that." Opera swung the cursor back where she wanted it with a flick of her fingers and started scrolling through the contents of the scan. "I see what you mean, though. That’s definitely an anomaly… although the elemental composition doesn’t match up to any alloy used by the Earth Federation in the past century, as far back as the cross-section in our database goes. It’s either so old it doesn’t matter, or it’s from outside Federated space. Way outside Federated space." The systems closest to the Federation, even the ones that resisted joining, were entered into the database for identification as neutral parties. It avoided a lot of headaches (and accidental loss of ships from shooting first and asking later) on both sides. Which meant that, unless what they were reading on the scan was ancient-- a technological anomaly or the ruin of a pre-Federation civilization-- or it was from somewhere they’d never heard of before. "No humanoid-size life is registering on the scan, though, so it’s probably old." Size was the common factor that sentient races seemed to have, no matter what more radical differences were between them.
"Probably," Claude agreed. "Still, it can’t hurt to be careful. There could still be sensors or weapons there, whatever it is." He paused for a moment before grinning. "Want to check it out?"
"Of course I do." She pressed the buttons to begin the computer’s sleep sequence, to conserve the remaining power while they were gone; the only things that would stay on were the security measures and the broadcast of the distress signal. "Let’s go."
---
"I guess we were right about this thing being old," Opera said, looking up at the rusted-out hull of what probably used to be a spaceworthy craft but was now just scrap metal. "I mean, how long has it been since anyone used an alloy that would rust to travel in space? I don’t think the Federation ever did that, and I know we never did." We still meant Tetregenesis, even though they’d joined the Federation, and probably always would. They were too proud to identify only as the member of a larger whole.
"I was kind of hoping it would still be functional. Who knows, maybe they would have better broadcasting equipment than we do." Of course, that begged the question of why they would still be on this backwater planet with a level of technology from the eighteenth century A.D. on Earth, but there could have been a hundred different answers to that with absolutely nothing to do with malfunctioning equipment-- they could have been from a world whose atmospheric conditions didn't match this one's, or they could have starved or been killed by the native civilization or they could have even come here on purpose and assimilated.
"I don't think anyone still using steel has better equipment than we do." Still, she leveled the scanner at the wreckage just to be on the safe side. After what had happened on Expel, neither one of them was going to underestimate the less than sophisticated planets. "Nope, not getting anything. Seems like the people living here gutted this thing a long time ago, whatever it really was."
"Lucky for them these guys were still using metal they could work with-- hey, what was that?" Claude startled, turning around and trying to catch sight of something behind him. It had been moving too fast for him to see, though, and he reflexively put a hand on his sword hilt.
"It looked like a dog." Opera, however, had three eyes to follow it with, a quad scanner, and had been facing the right way. "Stop jumping. I told you already, nothing big enough to be sentient came up on the scan. You're the one who put so much faith in having me look out for you. Unless you think this planet is full of sentient dogs who run around on all fours and managed to invent gunpowder, we're safe."
"I think the report might have mentioned that if it was the case," Claude admitted. "But here's a thought-- if this is so old they were using steel for some of the parts, why did it pop on our scanner at all? It should be in line with this planet's level of technology, and the scan would have passed over it no matter what trace elements were in it. There's gotta be something around here that still works."
"Hm… buried, maybe? It's probably been here long enough." Opera shut down the scanner, because they knew they were at the site and it wouldn't do to let the power drain while they were away from the ship. "Probably nothing we can use, though, and I'm not going to go digging on the of chance it is still working. Assuming that it's even something that would help us right now, even if it was working." She wandered forward, getting closer to the remains of the hull. "It looks like something's written on here, but it's not anything I can read-- even with the communicator on." It was from far outside Federated space, after all; the communicators were usually good at deciphering spoken words even from unrecorded languages because of their learning algorithm and the universal social cues humanoids had, but written words and sign languages had a much steeper translation curve.
Claude advanced, too, coming up to stand next to her. He couldn't even make out that there were letters on the side from this distance, but then again, she did have much better eyesight than he did and some education in archaeology to boot. If she said it looked like writing, then it looked like writing. And if it really was writing, and wasn't too degraded for an accurate assessment-- which was definitely a possibility, given how old it had to be-- that meant they probably wouldn't be able to figure out or use whatever it was setting off their scanner even if they found it by some miracle and it worked by some greater miracle.
"How about we go take a look at something more interesting?" Opera suggested. "This isn't exactly my idea of great scenery, regardless of all the stories my parents told you about me running off to ruins." Her lips thinned slightly on those words, because the only reason she had done any archaeology or run off to any ruins was to follow Ernest. "We should probably stick closer to the ship, anyway. We wouldn't want anyone trying to get into it-- as much fun as I had breaking the UP3 once, doing it while we've waiting on a rescue probably isn't a good idea."
"Probably not." Claude didn't laugh at the joke, because Opera's expression was still strained. He didn't need to have three eyes to see that she was upset. "Although it might be worth it for the look on my dad's face." Ronixis Kenni hadn't been terribly pleased when his son had left the military after his initial deployment was up, and Opera could just imagine the scene that would ensue if Claude actually did pull a stunt like intentionally breaking a major Federation law. It would make the "What do you mean, you're leaving the military?" fight look like father-son bonding.
"Worth it for me, maybe." Opera did manage a smile at that one. "Not for you."
"And what kind of man would I be if I didn't make sacrifices for a lady?" He took one last look around the perimeter before deciding that no, there really wasn't anything there. Besides maybe a dog, anyway.
"One who doesn't want to get strangled by his father?" She suggested, slipping an arm through his and leading him out back onto the trail as if she were presenting him at a ball on Tetragenesis IV. Now there was something to make the aforementioned fight between Ronixis and Claude look like father-son bonding, the political mess that had ensued when four or five very important young men in the star system realized that Opera Vectra had brought an Earthling back with her instead of eccentric, uncouth Ernest Raviede.
"Well, when you put it like that…" Claude teased, and she finally did laugh then. "Would you settle for a sacrifice that didn't involve my dad killing me for committing an interplanetary felony?"
"I suppose," Opera said, pretending to be barely-mollified by the offer. "After all, I haven't perfected your replacement yet." She gestured to the Kaleidoscope strapped across her back. "I think I'm getting close, though."
"Ah, but can it do this?" He leaned in and kissed her, and if her kissing back was any indication then no, the Kaleidoscope could not do that yet.
"Like I said," she murmured after she pulled away, smiling, "I haven't perfected it yet. In a--" she was cut off when something crashed in the distance. "Damnit. That doesn't sound good."
"No," Claude agreed. "It doesn't."
They ran the rest of the way to the clearing; Opera even took off her shoes because she could go faster without the heels in the way. It probably wasn't the best idea she'd ever had, running barefoot on a strange planet, but better to get treated for some bizarre alien strain of athlete's foot than to get stuck on the bizarre alien planet forever because someone or something had trashed their distress beacon.
"Too bad they don't have bunnies." Claude was actually mostly being serious about that, even though he was remembering the first time either of them had seen one of the monstrous riding rabbits on Expel. I'd take a public bus over that, Opera had said faintly, as if that was the worst form of transportation she could think of.
"You know, I almost agree with you there." Opera stopped to put her shoes back on as they reached their downed ship, because running barefoot and fighting barefoot were two very different things. The latter tended to involve a much greater likelihood of stepping on something sharp and conveniently-placed. Claude took the opportunity to take the scanner from her and do a quick look-over of the area. There was no one in sight, but there were definitely humanoids on the scan now. Four or five of them, at least-- he couldn't tell their size or density just from the scan without knowing what planet they were from. Density was actually a surprisingly good indicator of origin-- Tetrageniots, for example, packed a lot more mass into the same size space as Earthlings-- but wouldn't do much if racial parameters weren't entered.
Scan complete. No entry exists for the given parameters scrolled across the screen.
"Who's there?" Claude asked sharply. Neither of them was expecting anything worse than what the archived survey report had said, black powder rifles and perhaps, if the natives felt threatened enough by the ship, some rudimentary artillery. And that was why it was such a surprise when what was unmistakably a phase beam streaked past him and hit a tree behind him. It wasn't the most advanced phase weapon-- Claude could smell the ozone from where he was standing, and Federation weapons hadn't reeked like that in decades-- but it was definitely something that shouldn't have been there.
"I think we know whose joke of a ship that was," Opera muttered, swinging her gun down in one practiced motion. She leveled it towards the ship's hatch, where someone was definitely lurking. "Get back from there!" The communicator wouldn't translate perfectly, but it would hopefully get her point across to the people listening. Either it worked less than spectacularly or-- more likely-- these people weren't going to be dissuaded by one small woman telling them to back off. Claude drew his sword, because if Opera wasn't able to scare them off from a distance this was going to turn messy.
Opera braced the butt of the gun on the ground to absorb the recoil (because as advanced as technology had gotten, they still hadn't escaped the basic laws of physics) and fired, sending a phase beam up and splitting it so that it rained down in a circle around them. He never had figured out just how she'd gotten an energy cartridge to do that, but it always looked really impressive. And it did seem to impress their mysterious visitors, sending the one nearest the hatch skittering back into the shadows. Even before the glow from that shot had fizzled out she was fiddling with more buttons on the gun in anticipation of retaliatory fire, and the beam shield went up just in time for the next round of phase fire to ricochet off it and head back out in all directions.
"We're screwed if this turns into a firefight," Claude said quietly. Opera would be busy enough just holding up the beam shield, and he wasn't exactly equipped to snipe people from a distance at this point. It was almost enough to make him wish he was still with the military, if only because that would mean he had to carry a phase gun on him at all times (and after the mess he'd gotten into on Milokeenia and Expel, he wouldn't have disregarded that policy ever again). He could do a few things from far away, but nothing that was going to break through Opera's shield.
"We've been in way worse. You'll just have to start dodging when I take this down." Opera adjusted the various buttons and dials that would change the gun's fire, and the shield dissolved almost immediately. The prospect of another scatter shot like the one they'd gotten before, however, seemed to be enough to convince the interlopers to stand back and keep their hands off the ship. "…or not, since I guess they've got some sense after all."
"Maybe not," Claude corrected as they regrouped, falling into the proper stance. "How many times do you think we'll have to knock them down before they get some?"
"Good question." Opera smiled as she braced herself to fire again. "How many times did it take you?"
"I couldn't tell you, since it hasn't worked yet. I get the feeling they're the same way." Claude got himself out of her line of fire, and advanced on their new visitors.
They were going to be very busy until their signal got answered, it seemed. Some vacation.
notes: I shamelessly plundered a lot of background information about the time period from the dictionary in Star Ocean 3, including the spelling of 'Milokeenia' over 'Milocinia' for the planet where Star Ocean 2 began (I've used SO3's spelling because it is the vastly superior translation and is thus more likely correct). Expel joined the Earth Federation five years after Star Ocean 2 took place (and Precis' father figured out how to stop the Sorcery Globe's taint around the same time), which dates this to about halfway between the game's end and that time. Timeline notes aside, this assumes the ending where Claude accompanies Opera back to Tetragenesis and therefore (1) a well-established relationship already existing between the two and (2) Ernest remaining on Expel, since recruiting him into the party makes any other ending for Opera difficult. The dynamic between them is also partly determined by the ending, since that would be the ending one gets if Claude's affection points are greater than Opera's.