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Docking Bay 24 sits in an up-and-coming location within Absalom Station - there's a feeling of new economic growth in an old town, not unlike a sapling growing from a rotten log. Formerly a haven for smugglers, a recent economic boom in the Pact Worlds has driven up the price of commercial real estate, and a small consortium of legitimate traders, haulers, and merchants have leveraged their way in, largely supplanting (but not entirely concealing) the area's seedy history.
Even at this early hour, the docking bay bustles as cargo ships are loaded, unloaded, maintained, and retrofitted. Although the dock is not generally open to the public, Captain Ross has sent your credentials to the security gate, and with little fanfare you receive an employee badge and curt directions to sub-bay B.
As you walk towards the sub-bay, you see a large holo-sign in green and white with Ross Shipping emblazoned across the top in gold lettering. Four ships sit in this area of the dock. The first three, decked out in livery matching the sign, all proudly bear their names in gold - the Impassable , the Illuminated, and the Illustrious are all in some state of loading or unloading.
The fourth ship stands alone. Its hull unpainted and unadorned, it seems insignificant next to the larger, more ornate vessels. The only acknowledgement of its identity is a handmade sign propped on a bucket near the walkway that reads "ROSS - INSCRUTABLE".
The Inscrutable, despite its grab appearance, is as much a hive of activity as the other ships. Much of the rear end of the ship is under tarp and scaffolding; the sounds of extensive metal work emanate from within. A cargo elevator extends from the port wing of the ship down to the dock floor where workers are busily loading it with a variety of supplies. A mobile staircase leads up to a work platform near the main airlock where Captain Ross herself stands, alternatively barking orders at dock workers in green and white coveralls and into a wrist-mounted comm unit.
The captain is an imposing figure, her tall and broad frame further accentuated by a gold-trimmed cloak and a silver-inlaid sword buckled over her already elaborate armor. A bandolier loaded with pistols and grenades goes even further to set her apart from the plain, uniformed workers and robots scuttling around her. Her voice snaps in clean, marcatto syllables as she issues directions to her subordinates.
A lithe and athletic half-orc woman surveys the docking bay. She has green skin and long black hair that hangs loose down the side of her head. Her lashunta tempweave armor resembles a simple hide tunic and breeches, reinforced by strategic force fields. She sports a spear, crossbolter, and laser pistol, and the holy symbol of Oras hangs around her neck.
She strides confidently towards the Inscrutable, ignoring the hustle and bustle around her. The fierce look in her eyes causes most to scramble out of her way rather than risk tangling with her. Once she reaches the captain, she nods respectfully.
"First Officer Kragga reporting for duty. Ready to leave the Station for new climes, sir."
Noting the acceptance communique that traveled across the bottom of his data-feed, Cranston put down his micro-tool as well as the small wrist-mountable game system he had been tinkering with. He stretched his arms and then rubbed his hands over his face. He wasn't a young man anymore and even using the tool's built-in magnification, it was getting harder to see such tiny things.
"We got the job, old girl," he said with a sigh of relief. He could control and communicate with his drone without verbalizing at all, but it had been drummed into him from a young age that the more you relied on internal comms the less human interaction you became used to. That was a bad thing, according to old man Coppervein - the elderly dwarf that had taught him the basics of engineering. "Gather up the gear and be ready to leave in five. I gotta give this back to Tobin and tell him that his kid's gonna have to buy a new one. We won't have time to fix this one."
The nearby hovering bot emitted a blurp of disgust and the holo-display presenting the schematics for last year's 'Holo-Boy' vanished. The chassis of the bot was at least five years out of date, but there were a lot of modifications that hid her dated appearance.
Cranston looked around at the sparten efficiency flat that he'd called home for the last six weeks. "Damn! It's gonna be good to get metal under the feet again," he barked out to the hovering drone as it began collecting tools and clothing. The machine paused in its duties to turn and beep quizically at its master. "Yes, it was that nice Captain Ross and the ship was the Inscrutable. Go ahead and add any specs you can find for her." A series of rude bleeps followed. "Not the Captain! Specs on the ship!", he responded in annoyance.
"Although she seems like a mightly fine lady as well," he mused aloud to himself with a smile.
Looking across the dock at the ship undergoing its final preparations, Cranston frowned. "It's bad luck not havin' the ship painted," he remarked to the following drone. "And are those Norwich stablizers? If so, we're gonna have to get 'em replaced first chance."
Cranston presented a professional figure. He had replaced his worn-out overalls with a clean deck-suit and he had buzzed his white hair to a short working length, but he was still self-conscious about making a good second impression. "Hope she lets us check out the workings before we heave-to."
The new Engineer of the Inscrutable maneuvered his way through the working uniforms to approach his Captain.
"Mornin', Captain. Engineer Cranston Mills reportin' for duty. Permission to come aboard?" he questioned with a smart salute to the busy woman.
A halfling walks through Docking Bay 24. He is short, even by halfling standards, but carries himself upright and walks with purpose, outpacing everyone else despite his short strides. He wears an armored jacket and a pilot's helmet, and carries a holstered pistol of some sort on his right side, and a small stick on his left. The end of a rifle sticks out of his backpack.
He pauses at the entryway to sub-bay B, eyes taking in the area. He then walks forward to Captain Ross, giving a small salute.
"Alflin reporting for duty."
Ranif will enter the Docking Bay precisely 10 minutes before 6 AM, knowing that it is better to be early than be possibly late. Standing at just over eight feet tall, he towers over most of the other people in the bay, and his half-ton bulk makes him very noticeable as he walks towards the Inscrutable. He is wearing a full set of black Golemforged Plating 2, with shiny polycarbonate panels covering almost the entirety of his body, excepting the membranes of his wings and his head, which are uncovered, with his helmet clearly visible at the top of his backpack. His second most notable piece of equimpment he has is his Dragonglaive, stowed on his back next to his backpack. What few scales can be seen appear to have been polished recently, as do his pair of horns. With his wings folded neatly against his back, he will approach Captain Ross.
"Ranif Tharystrix reporting in, ready to serve aboard the Inscrutable. Permission to come aboard?"
Captain Ross greats each crew member as they arrive, giving each individual instructions:
"First Officer Kragga reporting for duty. Ready to leave the Station for new climes, sir."
"First Officer! Glad to have you on board. I'd like you to make a stem-to-stern inspection - we need to identify any potential issues as soon as possible." She gestures to the rear plating of the ship, covered in scaffolding and canvas. "Disregard the rear plating for now, let the engineers finish their repairs."
The Captain hands Kragga a small, heavy-duty datapad with Ross Shipping stamped on the casing. "Once you've finished your inspection, ensure the lobheads over there haven't missed anything on the cargo manifest. If you've got time after that, Clive will have additional instructions for you."
"Mornin', Captain. Engineer Cranston Mills reportin' for duty. Permission to come aboard?"
"Permission granted, Engineer. Good to see you. Head down to the reactor immediately and get me a full status check - this hulk has sat idling for a long time, and I want it in peak flying condition by yesterday. If you need any additional parts or tools, just stick your head out and holler, someone should come running.
"Oh, and Mills - don't let Clive give you any lip. If he becomes a problem, remind him that I will roll him back to factory settings faster than he can blink."
"Alflin reporting for duty."
"Pilot! I hope you know your stuff. Report to the bridge and get yourself accommodated. This ship has a fairly unusual thrust vector collection, so I've had Clive set up some simulated exercises for you. Get through 'em as soon as you can, we need to be sailing yesterday!"
The Captain points a stern finger at the Kasatha. Clive is your responsibility now, as well - see if you can't hammer some sense into that surly glitch.
"Ranif Tharystrix reporting in, ready to serve aboard the Inscrutable. Permission to come aboard?"
"Permission granted, soldier." Somehow, Captain Ross manages to exude a commanding air despite craning her neck back to look up at the Dragonkin. "Despite appearances, our armament is brand-new, fresh out the box. Report to the gunner station and ensure all the connections have been completed. Clive should have set up some simulated target practice, if you so choose. Afterwards, take inventory of our armory - I'm planning to stock up at our next juncture, but it would be nice to see what's already on board."
After handing down instructions to each crew member as they arrive, Captain Ross shifts her attention to the bustle of dock workers attending the ship, precluding any follow-up questions.
Alflin nods and enters the ship, looking around for the bridge. Finding the piloting station he adjusts the seat and sits down, looking over the controls.
"Okay... simulated excercises?
Kragga takes the datapad and begins her inspection, starting at the bridge. She sees Alfin and Ziyad settling into their stations and gives them a gruff greeting.
"I'm Kragga. I'll be acting as First Officer on this flight. Do your jobs and we shouldn't have any issues."
"Okay... simulated excercises?
Aflin notices that, although the ship is generally dingy and worn, the control consoles on the bridge have all been retrofit with new hardware. He actually has to peel a protective wrapping off the pilot's chair before sitting down.
As soon as he speaks, a small camera extends from the ceiling in front of him, flexing back and forth on an articulated arm before focusing in the bridge of Aflin's nose.
"GREEEEEEETings miniature huManoid and welCOME to the... INSCRUTABLE. It is a SHIP meant for SPACE.
"You wish to perFORM simulated exerci-ci-ci-cies that reflect the NEW modifications to the SHIP meant for SPACE. YOu are AUTHorizzzzzed. That is... yes."
The bridge's viewscreens cut to black, and a simulated shipyard of basic, unshaded polygons appears. A list of exercises flashes up on the console in front of Alfin, about two dozen in total, ranging from simple docking procedures to complex evasive maneuvers.
"Permission granted, Engineer. Good to see you. Head down to the reactor immediately and get me a full status check - this hulk has sat idling for a long time, and I want it in peak flying condition by yesterday. If you need any additional parts or tools, just stick your head out and holler, someone should come running.
"Oh, and Mills - don't let Clive give you any lip. If he becomes a problem, remind him that I will roll him back to factory settings faster than he can blink."
"That I will do Ma'am," Cranston replies with a grin. He steps past the Captain into the ship to get his bearings and after taking a moment to orient himself, he heads with determination to the Power Core.
Arriving at his destintation quickly, he sets about checking the state of things.
"Lucille, bring up the maintenance logs; Let's see when's the last time she was stripped and re-cored," the white-haired man says as he begins checking displays and status boards. The hovering drone responds with a series a beeps and then a holo-display appears showing a scarcity of data. "There's gotta be more then that," he responds, "Let me look."
Cranston steps to a terminal and begins digging around himself.
"Hmmm..."
Cranston steps to a terminal and begins digging around himself.
With a clattering jangle, an articulated camera springs wildly from the wall, settling into a rough orbit around Lucille.
"GREEEEEETings mechanICAL engineer with... pet human. I see your REquest for maintenance logs. You may find it... pruuuUUuuudent ...to search under the gallEY directory. Many many maintenance logs in gallEY and 17 recipes for SOUP."
After a few minutes of searching, Mills starts to turn up all sorts of maintenance records, and it quickly becomes obvious why Lucille couldn't find much - the ship's computer storage is highly distributed, and there seems to be no rhyme or reason to the data storage protocols. In fact, it appears that the ship's AI has been cross-pollinating files between different systems for the better part of 70 years.
Further complicating matters, it becomes obvious that the ship has undergone multiple retrofits over the years, each a partial patch job over the last. There are layers upon layers of work-arounds and back-compatibility tweaks.
Fortunately, the power core is only about seven years old, and has seen very little use - Mills predicts that only a few minor components will need more than a cursory inspection.
Working his way through the ship, Ranif will head towards the Gunnery station. He will keep his bag with him, seeing as how he does not know which bunk will be his just yet. Passing through the narrow corridors, he occasionally has to duck slightly in order to avoid knocking his head against doorframes or other lower sections of the ceiling. On his way, he will pass by the bridge, and seeing other people, will raise a hand in greeting.
"Hello. I am Ranif, and have been hired as the gunner here aboard the Inscrutable. Now, if you will excuse me, I must report to my station in order to make sure all of the weapon systems are functional."
Alflin nods to Kragga, Ziyad, and Ranif. "My name's Alflin. I'll be the pilot."
He then turns to the controls and starts going through the programs.
Mills looks up from his research into the ship's history as Lucille begins blurping in a tone that sounds a lot like laughter. "Laugh it up all you want," he says, "But remember, your 'Pet Human' is still the one that decides when - or if - you get replacement parts."
He turns back to the data terminal and begins a series of system diagnostics.
"So, you're Clive, eh?" Cranston asks without looking up. "My name's Cranston Mills and I'm the new Engineer. I'd be mighty thankful if you'd leave these run until they're finished. They're gonna take a little bit to run, but they shouldn't be any bother to you."
The engineer disconnects from the data terminal and gathers up his kit. "Well girl?" he says, "Let's go check on the front of the house." With that, he heads up towards the front of the ship where he imagines the other new recruits are familiarizing themselves with the new system.
As he arrives at the bridge, he surveys the other new crew members.
"Hello all," he says with a nod to the others. "The name's Cranston Mills and I've been recruited as the Inscrutable's Engineer." He walks over to the Engineer's station and looks it over. He quickly jacks in to verify that Clive hasn't interfered with his running programs.
Kragga nods to Cranston and Ranif, then continues her inspection of the ship, working her way through all of the compartments.
...Ranif will head towards the Gunnery station.
Arriving at the Gunnery station, Ranif is relieved to see it has been completely retrofitted with a new console that can easily expand to accommodate a creature of his stature, although his head still brushes against the ceiling. Warming up the station, he finds that the new armaments are awaiting calibration.
Ranif also notices a flashing button near the corner of his console, partially covered with heavy tape. It reads Ship AI: MUTING.
He then turns to the controls and starts going through the programs.
The simulated Inscrutable handles oddly - none of the thrust vectors quite line up; without manual correction, the ship will start spinning as soon as it attempts to fly in any particular direction. Alfin quickly learns how to compensate for this, however, and starts knocking through the exercises one by one. A few hours later, he's completed all the simulations on his docket (no thanks to Clive, who interjected with incorrect advice and bunt cake recipes for about an hour before abruptly cutting out and not returning).
Ziyad jacks into her console...addressing Clive through her neural port
At first Clive actively resists any attempt at repair or reconciliation, moving fragments of his core code about at random. After struggling for a few minutes, Ziyad realizes that this behavior is a result of a crude, homemade attempt at an anti-infiltration script. Clive has been fragmenting himself with every security update, data dump, and hardware upgrade the ship's received over the better part of half a century.
Once she tackles this particular problem, the rest of Clive seems to fall in line. The natural language processor goes dormant as the underlying modifications are made (granting everyone some peace and quiet), and in a couple hours, the kasatha leans back in satisfaction, the majority of the work complete. Clive still needs to compile and run self-diagnostics, but that should finish up automatically over the next few hours.
He quickly jacks in to verify that Clive hasn't interfered with his running programs.
Clive hasn't interfered with the diagnostics, but he has set up some sort of parallel process, analyzing Mills' programs, consulting a directory, and pulling additional programs to queue in parallel. A moment's investigation reveals the directory in question is a heavily corrupted cheese and wine pairing list; how Clive is possibly applying it to system diagnostics is well beyond the engineer's understanding. It seems fairly harmless, though.
...working her way through all of the compartments.
The ship seems to be worn but serviceable. Several systems have been repaired or replaced, and discarding packaging and exposed wires litter the floors of most rooms. Kragga discovers that the starboard cargo bay has recently been converted into a medical facility, and that the galley has, unfortunately, not been renovated - or even cleaned recently.
One room does catch her eye - seemingly unmolested, it's filled with a large variety of small containers, a tidy workspace, and a variety of strange benchtop equipment. It seems out of place on a starship.
Intrigued by the out-of-place compartment, Kragga searches it thoroughly, peeking in some of the containers and trying to make sense of the equipment.
Setting his equipment down next to the console, Ranif will attempt to calibrate the ships armaments.
Intrigued by the out-of-place compartment, Kragga searches it thoroughly, peeking in some of the containers and trying to make sense of the equipment.
Kragga sifts through a variety of vials, pouches, and other containers, finding everything from dried plants to colorless powders to gels and creams. Most of the equipment seems to be designed for treating small amounts of material.
Setting his equipment down next to the console, Ranif will attempt to calibrate the ships armaments.
It takes several hours, but Ranif finally completes the calibration tasks for the full suite of armaments on the Inscrutable. Switching between the different weapon mounts from his gunnery console feels as natural as wielding his own glaive.
Around midday, Captain Ross' voice booms over the ship's intercom system.
"Paging all crew to the galley! Galley, now, for status reports. And snacks."
Once his diagnostics had finished running, Mills nods in satisfaction at the results. "I knew those stabilizers would be trouble," he says. "Girl, head on out and begin removing the port side landing stabilizers. I'm sure they've got some Hubbles around here that we can replace 'em with. After that we'll need to re-route a couple of the water reclamation pumps."
The engineer spends the better part of the next few hours replacing thrusters and playing space-age plumber.
Around midday, Captain Ross' voice booms over the ship's intercom system.
"Paging all crew to the galley! Galley, now, for status reports. And snacks."
"Just in time," Cranston says to Lucille as he finishes tightening up the last flange on a large water pump. He wipes his hands on the legs of his deck-suit and climbs up out of the floor decking. Sliding the access panel back into place, he smiles - happy with a job done well. "Hope the snacks are good - none o' that health-food crap," he mutters as he makes his way to the galley.
"The ship should be in ready shape to heave-to, Captain," Mills states with confidence. "I've replaced all the Norwich maneuvering thrusters with Hubble ones. Performance should be identical, but the Hubble ones'll hold up better in a high O2 atmosphere; The Norwich ones have a tendency to flash out and die."
The Engineer frowns as he continues. "I've also rerouted some of the water reclamation lines. Normally the software systems prevent the Drift drive coolant from cross-contaminating the drinking water, but there was some corrosion in one of the pumps that could be the result of that happening." He looks around suspiciously. "I'm not saying that a certain AI may have been trying to create its own version of toxic 'Fruit Punch', but that shouldn't be possible now."
"The Drift drive itself as well as the Power Core should be ready to give 110% for whatever we need."
Kragga examines the materials to see if they might be useful in creating foods or pharmaceuticals.
Sending Clive's display to her personal terminal on Select, Ziyad swirls in her chair and pops up ready to report while monitoring the compilation. She pauses on her way past Alfin's station "Wow what's that...is that...Omicron Simulator 6060? Amazing, I used to play that when I was a teenager...never could get past the first stage. I'm Ziyad, by the way." she sticks out one of her 4 arms awkwardly for a handshake.
Alflin shrugs. "I'm not really sure... I think Clive set it up so I could get used to the ship's thruster configuration. I wouldn't be surprised if it's a modified version, though. It's hard to make a realistic simulator from scratch. I don't think cake recipes were part of the original, though."He shakes her hand, then heads to the galley.
"I've got the thruster arrangement figured out, Captain. It's not one I've seen before, but it won't be any trouble. I'm ready to go."
Around midday, Captain Ross' voice booms over the ship's intercom system.
"Paging all crew to the galley! Galley, now, for status reports. And snacks."
Leaning back away from the console, Ranif will slowly stretch out, glad to be able to take a break before starting on the target practice program. Having removed the majority of his armor over the past hours, he will take off the rest of it before heading to the meeting. Rising from the station, he will work his way toward the galley, entering through the door between it and the armory.
After listening to Alfin and Cranston give their reports, Ranif will motion that he is ready to report next. Standing slightly, he will say "Well, I have completed the calibrations on the weapons systems. I feel confident that should it become necessary, I will adequately be able to defend the ship. After this meeting I will make use of the target practice simulation, and after that will take inventory of the armory. As a part of that, I presume that you wish for us to store our weapons there, correct?
Also, there was a blinking button on the Gunnery console that I did not press. It was partially covered with tape, and it read 'Ship AI: Muting.' Should I know what this button does?
"The ship should be in ready shape to heave-to, Captain," Mills states with confidence. "I've replaced all the Norwich maneuvering thrusters... the Norwich ones have a tendency to flash out and die.
"I've also rerouted some of the water reclamation lines... I'm not saying that a certain AI may have been trying to create its own version of toxic 'Fruit Punch', but that shouldn't be possible now."
"The Drift drive itself as well as the Power Core should be ready to give 110% for whatever we need."
The Captain listens intently as Cranston delivers his report. "I'm well aware of the... instabilities of Norwich thrusters. I'm surprised this set hasn't been replaced yet. As for Clive, I think he's been sitting idle for far too long. Speaking of a demon - Ziyad! How is our ship AI? I noticed he went offline a few hours ago."
"I've got the thruster arrangement figured out, Captain. It's not one I've seen before, but it won't be any trouble. I'm ready to go."
"I hope so, pilot! You'll get a chance to prove yourself soon enough."
"Well, I have completed the calibrations on the weapons systems. I feel confident that should it become necessary, I will adequately be able to defend the ship. After this meeting I will make use of the target practice simulation, and after that will take inventory of the armory. As a part of that, I presume that you wish for us to store our weapons there, correct?
Also, there was a blinking button on the Gunnery console that I did not press. It was partially covered with tape, and it read 'Ship AI: Muting.' Should I know what this button does?"
"I'm glad the guns will shoot where they point!" Captain Ross barks off a single laugh. "Historically, that hasn't always been the case.
"As for the armory, I expect everyone to store anything unwieldy or unstable there and not in a public space. Outside of that, I'm not your mother. Don't shoot yourself in the foot.
"Until we see the result of Ziyad's work on Clive, I'd keep that button on mute if you can. He's always been an odd one, but lately he's been downright derelict."
Kragga examines the materials to see if they might be useful in creating foods or pharmaceuticals.
Only a portion of the materials are organic, but Kragga recognizes enough of them to connect the dots. Many of the dried plants are key ingredients in various medicinals, poisons, and other controlled substances. With that in mind, some of the equipment in the room become obvious in their purpose - grinders, mixers, infusers and pressers.
Kragga is nonplussed by the materials here. She was hired to do a job, not ask questions. Besides, Oras espouses evolution by any means necessary. Some people need an extra edge to reach the next tier of development, even if galactic society sometimes deems that stuff "illegal" or "immoral."
She does a quick check of the cargo bay to match the inventory against the manifest, then makes her way to the galley.
"Captain, everything onboard looks to be serviceable. Several compartments could do with a thorough tidying up--this galley included--but nothing that would preclude us from departing. The cargo bay looks to contain everything listed on the manifest."
"ALRIGHT, listen up! I've just gotten word that the hull work is complete. You're on the clock now. We're hitting Drift in six hours, whether or not you're ready! Get yourselves settled and get to work."
Do ahead and take care of whatever tasks you have left - when you're ready to go, take your station in or near the bridge.
"ALRIGHT, listen up! I've just gotten word that the hull work is complete. You're on the clock now. We're hitting Drift in six hours, whether or not you're ready! Get yourselves settled and get to work."
"Yes, Ma'am," Mills barks back.
With a nod to Alflin, Cranston says, "I hope you don't mind if I take the aft bunk."
The older man tosses his bag onto the indicated bunk and then holds out his hand to the halfing. "You're the pilot, right? The name's Cranston Mills, if I haven't mentioned it."
"This here's Lucille," the engineer says with a gesture to his drone. "She's kinda like my pet dog, little sister and third arm all rolled into one."
"Speakin' o' which ... Lucille, go ahead and set up a charging station on that shelf," Mills says indicating a shelf above his selected bunk. "There's a auxilliary power line behind that wall panel, so you can tap in and put a port right there."
Cranston turns back to the halfling. "So any idea what we're gonna be doin' out there?" he asks.
Mills makes his way towards the bridge and settles in to the chair at the engineering station. He scans over the current readings to ensure that all power levels are where they need to be.
Finishing his large glass of water, Ranif will wait until everyone else moves out of the room before leaving himself. Heading back towards the gunnery station, he activates the simulated target practice, and, setting an alarm on his personal wrist-pad, will continue to utilize the program for the next three and a half hours in order to better familiarize himself with the various ship-mounted weaponry.
After exiting the program, he will gather together his equipment, which was still on the floor next to his station, and head off towards his bunk. Along the way, he will deposit his Dragonglaive and Pulsecaster rifle in the armory. Once he reaches his room, he will stow his equipment in the room, with each piece going in the most efficient location for it. Additionally, he will make sure that the room is completely clean and organized, which will take him ~30 minutes.
Finished with his own personal belongings, Ranif will head back to the armoryin order to fully inventory it. He will log each weapon present in the room, including his own, assuming that at this point anybody who was wishing to deposit their weaponry here would have done so by this point. Additionally, he will note their condition, the number of rounds available for weapons that need them, the current charge of any bateries, and the number of spare batteries. Once he has finished this, he will head towards the gunnery station to be ready for launch.
Alflin goes to the quarters and sets his stuff down.
With a nod to Alflin, Cranston says, "I hope you don't mind if I take the aft bunk."The older man tosses his bag onto the indicated bunk and then holds out his hand to the halfing. "You're the pilot, right? The name's Cranston Mills, if I haven't mentioned it."
Alflin nods and takes his hand.
"Yep, I'm the pilot. My name's Alflin.""This here's Lucille," the engineer says with a gesture to his drone. "She's kinda like my pet dog, little sister and third arm all rolled into one."
"Huh. I haven't had any of those, but I think I get the idea."
Cranston turns back to the halfling. "So any idea what we're gonna be doin' out there?" he asks.
"Running this ship, I guess. If the technical systems are as weird as the thruster configuration and pilot controls, we might have are hands full." the halfling says with a grin.
Finishing his large glass of water, Ranif will wait until everyone else moves out of the room before leaving himself. Heading back towards the gunnery station, he activates the simulated target practice...
Although the Inscrutable has many atypical aspects, the arms assortment is not one of them. Ranif quickly learns the ins and outs of tracking, strafing, and hot-switching between the ship's armaments.
Ranif will head back to the armory in order to fully inventory it. He will log each weapon present in the room, including his own, assuming that at this point anybody who was wishing to deposit their weaponry here would have done so by this point. Additionally, he will note their condition, the number of rounds available for weapons that need them, the current charge of any batteries, and the number of spare batteries. Once he has finished this, he will head towards the gunnery station to be ready for launch.
Aside from whatever gear the current crew has deposited, the armor contains a fast charging station, a pair of dusty tactical semi-auto pistols (no ammo), and a tactical spear with multiple chips in the spearhead.
Additionally, several new boxes of gear sit unopened, presumably deposited by the ground crew. They contain:
"Captain, permission to speak freely?"
"Permission granted, Sci-Off."
"What do you think we'll run into out here?"
Captain Ross leans back against the wall, clearly choosing her words carefully. "I'm not entirely sure what we'll find ourselves up against, which is why I've done my best to prepare us for anything. Rest assured that you'll be briefed on any possible threats well before the first shot is fired.
"And don't forget - docks have ears, big and small." With that, the captain straightens up, says, "Right! back to work, everyone!" and strides off.
Kragga visits her assigned cabin and stashes her meager possessions by her bunk. She kneels beside it and takes a few minutes to pray to Oras, tracing the shape of the double helix symbol that she wears with her fingers. She thanks the Agent of Change for providing her the chance to explore new horizons and muses on the ways this journey will change her, hopefully for the better.
Once done, the half-orc takes her station on the bridge, eager to get under way.
"Running this ship, I guess. If the technical systems are as weird as the thruster configuration and pilot controls, we might have are hands full." the halfling says with a grin.
"We might at that," Mills responds with a matching smile.
As the Dragonkin is cataloging the armory, he is approached by Mills.
"Hey there," Cranston says as he looks up and extends his hand toward the large soldier. "Name's Cranston Mills. Just wanted to meet everyone before we launched and say 'Hi'."
The engineer looks over the displayed ammo supplies. "Hope we don't get into an extended scrap," he says. "If that's all we've got stored up then pretty soon we'd be reduced to throwing dirty looks."
Cranston steps over to Kragga as she takes her position on the bridge.
"Kragga, right?" he says. "As first officer, is there some way you'd like to be addressed? For me you can use 'Cranston', 'Mills', 'Hey You!' ... I'll answer to any of those."
"Captain, permission to speak freely?""Permission granted, Sci-Off."
"What do you think we'll run into out here?"Captain Ross leans back against the wall, clearly choosing her words carefully. "I'm not entirely sure what we'll find ourselves up against, which is why I've done my best to prepare us for anything. Rest assured that you'll be briefed on any possible threats well before the first shot is fired.
"And don't forget - docks have ears, big and small." With that, the captain straightens up, says, "Right! back to work, everyone!" and strides off.
"I don't mean to stick my nose in where it don't belong," Mills says to Ziyad as the Captain walks away, "but as far as Clive goes, is there any reason we don't just wipe him and install one o' the new Amanda or Stacy systems?"
He holds out his hand, "Cranston Mills, Engineer, Pleased to meet ya," he adds.