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Episode 1 - Capt Jon & The Revenge: Sins of the Father
Topic Started: Nov 9 2017, 02:15 AM (580 Views)
maldrul
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Wandering idiot kitsune
Let's get this party started
"Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic." - Arthur C. Clarke
"Hey Rocky! Watch me pull a rabbit outta this hat!" - Bulwinkle J. Moose
Whenever I'm blue, I just remember to start breathing again
When a Smurf holds its breath, what color does it turn?
Love people, use things. Not the other way 'round!
"Comedy is simply a funny way of being serious." -Peter Ustinov
"It is a profitable thing, if one is wise, to seem foolish." -Aeschylus
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Jon Wilkes
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[Location: Captain's office, The Revenge in orbit above Beaumond]
[Time: 0700 hours Standard Alliance Interplanetary Time]


Jonathan Wilkes, captain and owner of a top of the line Wasp class heavy cargo cruiser christened 'The Revenge', sat behind the solid mahogany desk in his office aboard his ship as he poured over the information on the screen of his corpad. He fiddled with the rawhide strap that held his eye patch in place as he tapped at the corpad screen.

Well, I do have a crew and The Revenge is tip top and ready to go. Jon mused. Just a few loose ends to tie up and we should be able to get down to business. Jon had wanted to get all positions filled just to ease his own burden of having to wear many hats, as it were. I still could use at least one full time shuttle pilot and a weapons officer, but I no longer have the time to vet any more applicants through my dark Cortex contact. Miyuki should be able to handle that from now on, anyway.

"Time to see how my new crew performs." Jon said to no one as he reached over and switched on ship wide communications. "This is your captain speaking. Hellzy, prep shuttle one for dirtside. Blackie, slap on some street clothes, grab a sidearm from the armory and meet Hellzy in the launch bay. Doc, see what you can whip up in the galley for us all to eat. DC, Number One, please come to my office."

((OOC, okay folks, The Revenge is now open for posts.
Hellzy=Emerson Bell
Blackie=Conwell Black
Doc=Keara Delaney
DC=Miyuki Tanaka
Number One=Callista Parson))
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Emerson Bell
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The dash was lit up like a Christmas tree or a large city at night viewed from a distance, to her it was art and it was hers to control. She hadn't worked on a ship like this before but it was fairly similar to models she'd run in the past most of the controls were interchangeable. She'd been running system test to ensure everything was running smoothly, which for the most part it was other than some maintenance she would recommend to the Captain later. Speaking of.

"This is your captain speaking. Hellzy, prep shuttle one for dirtside. Blackie, slap on some street clothes, grab a sidearm from the armory and meet Hellzy in the launch bay. Doc, see what you can whip up in the galley for us all to eat. DC, Number One, please come to my office."

Duty called, she packed up her tools and set them aside heading out of the cockpit to prep shuttle one. Shuttle one was such a boring name, she'd have to give it her own nickname after she had some time to fly it and find its personality. Emerson or Hellzy as she’d been nicknamed did the routine checks, med kit stocked, check, emergency rations, check, spare clips, check. The preliminary was complete now on to the functionality of the ship. Plopping down in the pilot seat she flicked a few switches and a smaller city lit up as the shuttle came to life. Propulsion systems were at one hundred percent, fuel was a healthy eighty five percent, weapons operational. This kitty was purring.

"Shuttle one reporting. All systems go." She called into the speaker system before dimming the system and heading back into the launch bay. Soon she would see what sort of crew she’d hooked up with once this first mission got in full swing, until then it was a waiting game. Not one to stand idle she took the opportunity to get a few reps of pushups in.
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Callista Parson
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Callista Parson sat behind an antique roll top desk as she finished up some last minute paperwork for the business end of the Revenge. The desk had been her great grandmother's and it made her space feel homey and yet functional. Plus the roll top was fantastic for that part of the ride when you were re-entering atmo and a ship has the tendency to have that back and forth pull between gravity. It just wouldn't do if her hard work was thrown asunder by just hitting a little turbulence.

Plus she just loved the thing.

This was a good day today. The low grade migraine that had been dogging her the early part of the week had eased and she actually felt quite chipper. Her "medicine" she used was tucked away in a locked little drawer in the roll top past of the desk and she hadn't touched it for a couple of days now. This was definitely a good day.

"This is your captain speaking. Hellzy, prep shuttle one for dirtside. Blackie, slap on some street clothes, grab a sidearm from the armory and meet Hellzy in the launch bay. Doc, see what you can whip up in the galley for us all to eat. DC, Number One, please come to my office."

She smiled as she rolled down the cover for the desk and locked it. The captain sure liked his nicknames. She was just glad she had "number one" as hers. It was less than a nick name and more like a title. Worked for her. She slipped on her boots and slid a pair of sunglasses in the V of her shirt. Then she made way to Jon's office. She knocked once and went inside.

"You rang, Dearest?"

He needed a nick name too. She used to call him "My Dearest Captain," but it got too long to say and she had just shortened it to "Dearest."

"What's up?"


Callista's desk:
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Miyuki Tanaka
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Properly folding a pleated silk hakama to put it away was more challenging than putting it on. Improper storage would ruin it; it had to folded precisely, the long ties gathered and tied in artistically symmetrical patterns. Once folded, the bright red hakama and white kimono went into their drawer, beneath the kamidana. It was likely that the deep shelf above the cabinet wasn't designed so much as left there by default when the cabinet was placed there, but it made a perfect spot; above eye level, in a place no one would walk beneath it. Unlike most kamidana, it was also well secured, with everything fastened down. It wouldn't do to have it all come crashing down if the ship took a hit or had to perform abrupt evasive maneuvers. Somehow, these didn't seem like remote possibilities.

Now that it was there, and the purification ritual completed, it was her cabin, at least as permanently as she ever allowed anything to be.

Once no longer in miko garb, she pulled on a black cropped top and grey dancer's pants, with a long, light white jacket over them. With no practical pockets, she carried all her essentials in pouches on a wide, black belt, like a gunfighter. In a way, she armed herself like one, her shots simply weren't aimed at physical targets.

Along with other tools, including one based on the old Earth-That-Was Swiss Army Knife, but optimized for working on electronic hardware, she carried six corpads, including two hacked and modded Blue Sun Pad Ones; rugged, simple looking devices in cheery primary colors designed for kids. They were cheap, designed not to break under abuse, and once given sufficient hacked in upgrades to allow them to keep up with real corpads, had the advantage of being nearly untraceable and anonymous. Made as learning toys, with intentionally hobbled capability, no one had seen any need to build in any of the normal identifiers. She also had a Blue Sun Micro; only made for a year due to being too small for practical use; a design answer in search of a question. Most people didn't really need a corpad capable of deep concealment, the corpad equivalent of a gunfighter's holdout derringer. Most people weren't Miyuki Tanaka.

"This is your captain speaking. Hellzy, prep shuttle one for dirtside. Blackie, slap on some street clothes, grab a sidearm from the armory and meet Hellzy in the launch bay. Doc, see what you can whip up in the galley for us all to eat. DC, Number One, please come to my office."


Miyuki slipped on a pair of sunglasses. It was far from sunny on board a ship, so the polarized lenses were only very lightly tinted, but protection from glare and fashion were their least important functions. Carrying six corpads would be much more of a hassle if you had to pull them out in order to do anything with them. Walking down the corridor, she arrived just after the First Mate.

"Ohayō gozaimasu." she said, bowing deeply to the two already present, as befitting a greeting to a superior. Earth-That-Was Japanese culture wasn't common in the 'Verse, but she had grown up in a place where it was preserved, and had carried it all her life. "We have a job to do?"

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Jon Wilkes
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You rang, Dearest?

Jon smirked at hearing the nickname Callista had chosen for him. He motioned for her to take a seat in one of the two leather wing-back chairs facing his desk.

What's up?

Before he could answer, Miyuki also appeared at the door.

Ohayo gozaimasu.

As the comms officer stood from her bow, Jon motioned for her to sit in the other chair.

We have a job to do?

Jon sat up straighter in his leather executive swivel chair and looked back and forth between the two ladies with his one good eye. "Yes we do." He turned his attention to his first mate. "I need you to take shuttle one dirtside and hire four cargo handlers." Then he turned to the Cortex hacker. "You will go with her to vet them. No druggies, Alliance groupies, or debt slaves." Jon picked up his corpad, ejected a data tab from the side and handed the data tab to Miyuki. "This is the list of my dark Cortex contacts, if you need them"

The captain returned his attention to Callista. "They have to have experience with stasis crates; handling, stacking, monitoring, et cetera. Offer them ten percent over union, paid in platinum. This is a single voyage hire, return to point of origin. Understood?" Jon didn't wait for the first mate to respond as he opened one of the drawers of his desk, pulled out a strongbox, and set it on the desktop. "As a show of good faith, give them each two days pay up front." Jon placed his thumb over a skull set into the top of the strongbox. The eyes of the skull glowed a dull red for a moment, there was a brief warble sound and the lid opened. The smuggler pulled out a small purple velvet bag full of coins and handed it to the first mate. "This should cover it."

As the captain closed the strongbox and returned it to the drawer, he continued "Blackie and Hellzy will be your security for this excursion. Once you all have returned to The Revenge, we'll be landing her at the Stark ranch to pick up 200 stasis crates containing slaughtered cattle destined for D'Marko Meatpacking on Londinium. After we stow the crates, we will be heading to Varley to pick up three VIP passengers also bound for Londinium."

Jon leaned forward and placed his forearms on the desk. "The handlers will bunk in crew quarters in the cargo bay. Once we are underway to Varley, I don't want to see 'em, I don't want to hear 'em, I don't want to smell 'em, got it? They will take mess in the cargo bay rec room. Their only concern will be the stasis crates. You'll be in charge of them, Number One."

Shuttle one reporting. All systems go. Emerson's voice came over ship-wide intercom.

Capt Wilkes leaned back in his swivel chair, plopped his boots on the desk, raised his arms to interlock his fingers behind his head and smiled. "Unless there are any questions, sounds like your ride is ready."
Edited by Jon Wilkes, Nov 24 2017, 02:51 PM.
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Keara Delaney
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Sleep and Keara weren't often on good terms. It had been like that most of her life, between the Reavers and random assorted bandits of her home world, and later the war. Some people slept to escape reality. Some people welcomed sleep as a bosom buddy. Keara actively tried to avoid it, due to the nightmares she often had when she did allow herself to sleep. Sure they were less now than they had been, but her life hadn't been easy and it had left some pretty deep scars on her psyche. She didn't really use any stimulants aside from coffee, but she didn't need them. Her body had long ago become accustomed to operating on only a few hours of sleep more often than not.

As per her usual, she was up earlier than most even thought about. She had been on the ship a few days by now. Her time there had been spent inventorying and cataloging the supplies in the infirmary, writing up lists of what was missing that she thought they were most likely to have need of and what they had but was in shorter supply than she was comfortable with. When she wasn't doing that, she was organizing and arranging the infirmary to her liking... which meant in a way that would allow her to conduct her work with optimum efficiency. She also gave the entire room a thorough cleaning from top to bottom. Ceiling, walls, floor, counter tops, exam table, and even inside the cabinets and drawers. It couldn't be kept entirely sterile given the environment and all, but she could make sure to keep possible sources of infection at a minimum.

Keara had spent this particular morning's early hours putting herself through a workout routine before everyone else got up, and following it up with a long leisurely hot shower. She had just finished drying off and getting dressed, and was in the process of toweling her hair again in an effort to get more of the water out when she heard the comm announcement. Apparently she had taken longer in the shower than she had realized if everyone else was already up and running. "Sure thing, Cap. Won't be anything fancy, but it'll fill the belly well enough" she replied, punching the comm button on the wall as she passed by on the way back to her room. She took care of her towels and clothes, then headed for the galley.

While she wasn't exactly a gourmet chef, she wasn't a bad cook either. Her mind turned longingly toward pancakes and french toast, but given what the captain had said about prepping the shuttle, she didn't think there would be time enough for that sort of breakfast. Maybe tomorrow, if they were lucky. Instead, she pulled out dishes and ingredients, and set about whipping up some breakfast burritos with plenty of meat, veggies, and seasoning in them to go along with the pot of coffee she was brewing. If need be, the burritos could be wrapped up in foil and eaten on the go and the coffee could get distributed into disposable cups for portability. Besides, they might as well enjoy the fresh ingredients while they had them. As the sounds and smells of cooking food filled the galley, she thought she ought to be offended at being put on food duty. Some people with her training would have been. She didn't care though. She wasn't doing anything else at the moment. Besides, people had to eat, and someone had to do the cooking... but with a ship this small, that duty could be shared easy enough. As long as she didn't end up being the one doing all or most of the cooking, she didn't have any objections to doing her turn at it.

The food was just coming off the stove when she heard the pilot announce the shuttle's readiness. She took the frying pan off the stove and turned the burner off before walking over to the comm unit and hitting the button. "Chow's on. So's coffee. Let me know now how many need theirs in a doggie bag so I can wrap it up before you get here" she said. Releasing the button, she laid out a tortilla shell for each of the current crew members and began the process of divvying up the seasoned scrambled eggs, meat, and veggies while she waited for a head count on who would be getting breakfast on the go.
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Conwell Black
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Serene Machine-Gunner
Conwell Black was a million miles away, eyes closed, legs crossed, humming the mantra's of the Buddha under his breath. The sweet smell of incense filled his assigned quarters as he fought against the memories. Always they troubled him, always they came, taunting, refusing to allow him to move on as he always wanted to. Still, he'd conquer this batch as he had the others.

His meditations were interrupted by the voice of his new captain crackling across the ship wide intercom, "This is your captain speaking. Hellzy, prep shuttle one for dirtside. Blackie, slap on some street clothes, grab a sidearm from the armory and meet Hellzy in the launch bay. Doc, see what you can whip up in the galley for us all to eat. DC, Number One, please come to my office."

Conwell audibly snorted at his nickname. Blackie was far from creative, still, he'd never been given a nickname before, and appreciated Captain Wilkes' attentions. The opportunity for action would be a welcome reprieve from the time aboard ship. It was in combat he came alive, and the scent of it was enough.

He'd rather take his belt-fed machine gun into battle, but clearly Wilkes was hoping for something more...discrete. So after slipping into a simple outfit, capped off by a leather jacket and old earth-that-was aviator cap for a splash of color, Conwell Black helped himself to a revolver. The weapon had kick enough, and the gunslinger vibe was always a good one for a bodyguard.

Making his way down to the shuttle bay he was greeted by the more than pleasant sight of Emerson Bell doing a round of push-ups outside the shuttle. Taking the opportunity to admire her assets for several moments longer than professionally necessary, Conwell finally rapped on the shuttle-bay wall to announce his arrival. "Hey there, can you radio old Captain Jon and let him know I'm here? I don't have a com on me."

He also wanted to ask her to dinner, but alas, cowardice held his tongue on that one.

God she's gorgeous. This posting is looking better and better.
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Emerson Bell
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The strain of her workout started impacting her arms as the muscles contracted and expanded with each push, the long flight threw off her routine and she would need to find that rhythm again. Em heard the footsteps approach, she ignored whoever it was until she heard the knock on the wall and the man speak. She drew back from her arms and rested on her knees, hands rubbing the dirt from the floor on her pants.
She gave the man a once-over assessing him before getting to her feet and moving over to the comm.

”What are you a pilot, a fugitive or a stalker?” She deemed those the only professions that would deem that head accoutrement necessary. While waiting on his response she smacked the comm button.

”Captain. We’re all hands here.” Her fist released the button, feeling stiff still she pressed her palms against the wall, straightened her left leg while bending the right pushing against the wall to stretch out her legs. Keeping an eye on the guy from the corner of her eyes.

She wasn’t sure what to make of him yet, seemed the friendly type nothing stood out about him other than the Dharma Wheel and that hat… what was up with that hat? He stood quite a bit taller than him but was diminutive in frame, he also looked about in his mid forties so hopefully that meant he had experience in the right areas. Boss told him to get a weapon so she assumed he was the gunner since she hadn’t bothered to learn too much about the crew as of yet. Not bad looking though.

"Chow's on. So's coffee. Let me know now how many need theirs in a doggie bag so I can wrap it up before you get here"

Another voice came over the comm. She wasn't sure if she'd met the woman it belonged to or not. Point of import was that it pointed out to Bell that she hadn't eaten a thing since boarding and some food before the flight might be a good idea. There was still time to collect though, she continued loosening up instead.
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Keara Delaney
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There was supposedly some rule somewhere that said the chef ate last. Keara thought that 'rule' was total bullshit though. After she released the comm button, she grabbed a mug and served herself some coffee. She didn't bother to add any cream or sugar to it, though they had those things on board. She rarely did. It wasn't because she didn't like them, or because of some wussy reason, or because of some pseudo-macho reason. Drinking her coffee straight had less to do with showing off or an aversion to sweet things. Put simply, it was just what she was used to. There had been little access to luxuries like that where she had grown up, and even less access to them during the war.

She leaned against the counter as she sipped the hot beverage, blowing on it to cool it a little before slurping some into her mouth. Keara had been taught better than that growing up, but there hadn't always been time during the war or after to just wait patiently for the liquid to cool to a drinkable temperature so she had picked up a bad habit or two. Besides, she was alone right now so it didn't much matter anyway.

After emptying half the cup, she topped it off again. Then she grabbed one of the plates and plopped herself down at the table to start eating her own breakfast burrito. She had given them their chance. No one had replied to say they needed their food to go, so she took that to mean they either didn't need it or that they hadn't figured out whether or not they needed it. Either way, she wasn't going to delay her own meal and let it get cold. If you had a chance for a hot meal, you took it because the next one might be a cold meal and it might be long in coming on top of that. She had given them enough time to at least reply over the comm even if they couldn't get to the galley right away. Anyone needing their food to go would have to package it up themselves now because she was not about to step away from her breakfast to do it for them.
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Callista Parson
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OOC: Sorry for the lateness. Apparently, I missed the fact that it was my turn. Bad abbey."

Callista nodded at Miyuki as she came in. She liked the girl, plus she had a killer pair of sunglasses. Sure, they weren't exactly dark enough for her needs, but they still were killer.

"We have a job to do?"

The Captain straightened up a little as his eyes bounced back and forth between the two women.

"Yes we do."

It was her turn for instructions first.

"I need you to take shuttle one dirtside and hire four cargo handlers."

She raised an eyebrow at him. Four cargo handlers? What the heck were they doing that they needed to hire FOUR of them? Then he turned and addressed Miyuki.

"You will go with her to vet them. No druggies, Alliance groupies, or debt slaves."

Then he handed over a data tab to her.

"This is the list of my dark Cortex contacts, if you need them"

Her brows drew together in suspicion as his attention swung back to her.

"They have to have experience with stasis crates; handling, stacking, monitoring, et cetera. Offer them ten percent over union, paid in platinum. This is a single voyage hire, return to point of origin. Understood?"

Somewhat skilled labor. Round trip. A little extra plat to entice them. She was more than intrigued. It seemed a little more that a simple cargo run. Then there was the strongbox he pulled out for her.

"As a show of good faith, give them each two days pay up front."

Two days pay up front? She'd do that, but probably not until they got back to the ship. Couldn't have anyone making a break for it with cashymoney in hand. She really wasn't in the mood to have to chase anyone down.

He opened it with the fingerprint activated box (the skull was a righteous piece of décor that hid the mechanism) and pulled out the coin she needed. She took it and shoved it into the pouch she had fastened around her waist.

"This should cover it."

From the weight, she was guessing that it definitely would.

"Blackie and Hellzy will be your security for this excursion. Once you all have returned to The Revenge, we'll be landing her at the Stark ranch to pick up 200 stasis crates containing slaughtered cattle destined for D'Marko Meatpacking on Londinium. After we stow the crates, we will be heading to Varley to pick up three VIP passengers also bound for Londinium."

A multi-pronged job and a mess of beef. She briefly wondered if they would miss a few steaks. A first class meal sounded good about now.

"The handlers will bunk in crew quarters in the cargo bay. Once we are underway to Varley, I don't want to see 'em, I don't want to hear 'em, I don't want to smell 'em, got it? They will take mess in the cargo bay rec room. Their only concern will be the stasis crates. You'll be in charge of them, Number One."

She nodded as she understood that they were merely worker bees and containment was his wish. He didn't trust them. They weren't part of the crew and because of that, they were not to have full roam of the ship.

"I'll make sure the rec room is stocked to keep them happy."

Emerson's voice rang out over the comms.

"Shuttle one reporting. All systems go."

Captain gave them the last bit of information.

"Unless there are any questions, sounds like your ride is ready."

Callista shook her head.

"It's all shiny. We'll set out right away."

He jerked her head up a little, beckoning Miyuki to follow. Hopefully she did or else Callista would look funny shooting orders off to dead air.

"Check the want boards. See if anyone has the skills needed," she instructed her crew mate as they made their way down the hallway. "I'd rather not pull in anyone that is a contact of the Captain's. Something goes pear shaped and the next thing you know we are owing folks favors. I don't want to owe anyone a favor."

She thought for a moment.

"But it would be good to have one or two of the guys in our back pocket. Lets them keep an eye on what's going on in the bay," she mused out loud. "What we don't want is a group of workers bent on turning the tables on us and trying to take the ship."

Sure, she sounded a bit paranoid, but paranoid had served her well in the past.

She passed through the galley and saw Keara wolfing down a burrito.

"Let's get a move on. Good thing that burritos are ready to eat on the go," she said with a smile, hearing that Keara had offered food delivery to the others. The woman may look like she was eternally pissed, but was actually quite helpful. She should probably grab something herself, but with the remnants of the migraine that morning, her stomach had yet to work through the quesiness. It was fading, but she just wasn't ready for food. But she didn't know how long they'd be. So she changed her mind. "Do you mind grabbing me a protein bar? Something bland. Nothing full of artificial flavor enhancements? I'd appreciate it."

When she got to the shuttle, she saw that Conwell and Emerson were already there. She leaned up againt the hull and pulled out her sidearm from the shoulder holster under her hip length jacket. As she checked her rounds, she spoke to them.

"Everything ready?"
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Conwell Black
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Serene Machine-Gunner
God she was sassy, Conwell liked that very much in a woman.

"What are you a pilot, a fugitive or a stalker?"


"All three actually." He bowed dramatically, flourishing with his off hand. "I'm a professional, though admittedly not so great at the stalking. Skipped too many of those classes. Didn't like the teacher." He smiled reassuringly. "Oh, and on top of all those fantastic skills I think I'm your tail gunner, assuming this beaut belongs to you." He patted the side of the shuttle happily, dreaming about the death he could rain down from above, how good the big guns felt in his hands...

Careful there Connie, slaughtering folks doesn't achieve enlightenment.

The message of breakfast was well received and gave him an opportunity. "I suppose since my mommy didn't pack me a lunch this morning I should fetch one myself. You want me to bring you back a doggy bag back from the kitchen there Bell?" Any excuse to talk to the blonde was a good one.

Speaking of blondes the arrival of the likewise gorgeous first officer, one Callista Parson, got his attention. He might be hotblooded but he wasn't stupid. You don't charm a superior.

"Everything ready?"

"Absolutely shipshape here ma'am, ready to move on Captain's orders." The salute came naturally to him and he adjusted his posture to something resembling attention.
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Miyuki Tanaka
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"Check the want boards. See if anyone has the skills needed," she instructed her crew mate as they made their way down the hallway. "I'd rather not pull in anyone that is a contact of the Captain's. Something goes pear shaped and the next thing you know we are owing folks favors. I don't want to owe anyone a favor."

Someone leaning in close behind Miyuki, like a lover, dance partner, or conspiratorial whisperer, would have seen tiny date screens in her lenses scrolling, flashing through data and shuttling behind new screens like an old style Rolodex. Tasks like simple searches could be set up, automated, and left to run themselves in the background while other, more active tasks were initiated. There were multiple layers of inquiry to the question, with new data from one layer being sent down the chain to be sifted and cross referenced with deeper layers of the search. Behind the search itself were the security layers, acting to hide the traffic and detect any potential breaches or threats before they could become an issue.

"But it would be good to have one or two of the guys in our back pocket. Lets them keep an eye on what's going on in the bay," she mused out loud. "What we don't want is a group of workers bent on turning the tables on us and trying to take the ship."

Since all of this was eye controlled, it might have looked to an observer who could see her eyes through the light polarization as if she were lost in thought, and likely not listening to Callista very closely. Nothing could be further from the truth.

"Very good." she said. She could add additional criteria to filter for potential spies; those who would be likely willing and able, and to ensure the others hired would be people they'd be willing to spy and possibly inform on.

"Let's get a move on. Good thing that burritos are ready to eat on the go. Do you mind grabbing me a protein bar? Something bland. Nothing full of artificial flavor enhancements? I'd appreciate it."

"I'll be right behind you." she replied, peeling off from following and stepping over to where the food was.

"Ohayou!" she said to Keara. "Good morning! Can you tell me where the protein bars are? Ms. Parson is perhaps not feeling up to a full breakfast."


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Emerson Bell
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So this was the resident wise guy, pot calling the kettle black though considering her consistent levels of snark.

"Oh, and on top of all those fantastic skills I think I'm your tail gunner, assuming this beaut belongs to you."

Seemed like they'd be spending some amount of time together if he was the gunner. Hopefully he was a good shot she wanted to know she could trust the guy watching her tail.

"Hopefully you're a good shot. I want to know I can trust the guy watching my tail." Okay she was being a bit flirty but she saw the way he looked at her and being in the military was used to the way men and even some women thought. She decided to not let the conversation sit on that line and moved along.

"This however is the Captain's ship I just fly it." She corrected him while he patted the ships belly. Just as he was offering to get her breakfast the first mate arrived. She stiffened up her posture and saluted the woman.

"Everything ready?" She asked them, Conwell spoke first to the affirmative.

"Shouldn't be any issues ma'am, everything's secured and ready." She followed up, knowing she probably looked stupid but old military habits and all that.
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Callista Parson
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Callista knew that even though Miyuki seemed like she was ignoring her, she knew that the woman was quickly sorting through what she had asked her to do.

"Very good."

Yep, that girl was talented and she was a key player on the team. She knew that the tasks she issued would be followed through and done well. She didn't really want to think about food, but she managed to ask Miyuki to help her and she heard the woman go about that as she was leaving the room.

"I'll be right behind you." "Ohayou!" "Good morning! Can you tell me where the protein bars are? Ms. Parson is perhaps not feeling up to a full breakfast."

Indeed she was not. She just hoped the slightly nauseous feeling she was not an announcement for a imminent migraine. It had been a couple of days. A couple of good days. Pain free days.

Peace.

But who knew how long that would last. Maybe she would get lucky and have the flu or food poisoning. Wouldn't that be great?

She shook her head a little at the sheer lunacy that brought forth.

As she strode into the area where the shuttle was, Conway answered her question about the readiness of the shipwith alacrity.

"Absolutely shipshape here ma'am, ready to move on Captain's orders."

The salute was over the top. She hated the formalness of it. Either that or he was being sarcastic about it. Either way, she didn't like it.

"No saluting necessary, Conway. How many times do I have to say that?"

Emerson added to that.

"Shouldn't be any issues ma'am, everything's secured and ready."

Emerson saluted her too. Jeez! And what was with the ma'am thing? Did she look that old?

"At ease folks..." she teased. "We're not in the military. Don't need to be so formal."

She sent a friendly smile their way.

"We just have a job to do. What do you say we leave in about 10 minutes?"

She reach up to toggle a tiny sensor on her sunglasses and had them darken just a little more. She didn't want to get a migraine today. It had just been so nice lately. But she seemed to hit upon a good dosage of the drug she had procured two planets back.

She needed to find some more before they left this world. She didn't have much left.

But it was something she didn't like to do with an audience. She would have to slip away from the group sooner or later.

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