Tavid nods as he recognizes Valerie’s tale. He’s heard this before, numerous times. He eats slowly, savoring each bite. As she wraps up the story he adds in encouraging patter like, ”Yes that’s right,” and ”I was a fountain of sweat.”
|
Anton tries to keep it together, but when she gets to the part about "the dashing and heroic Captain refused to leave her behind" he chokes on his drink and lets out a heart-felt laugh for a full ten seconds.
"Oh the look on their faces," the captain says, refusing to miss a beat, his face still split in a broad smile, "when those yī dà tuó dà biàns finally caught on that we was high-tailin' it, and that one guy--" another side-splitting laugh, "with the hair, and the--" more laughter, "that looked like a dress! Oh man, I bet they thought they had you when you took that bullet, but no sir i'twere nuthin to scoop you up an' skeedaddle proper!"
Anton pauses and takes another sip, hoping that he covered alright. In truth when she got all a-stumbled by that shoulder-hit, yeah, he carried her so they wouldn't break stride...but he also couldn't pass up a chance to see if Val was as firm as she looked. So when she said 'behind,' well, it...had he been sober, perhaps defenses would've held.
.
The good Doctor is doodling away scientific formula on his napkin and not really paying attention to the discussion but he nods and agrees while the story goes on.
What is Val talking about??? That’s not how it went at all! Doesn’t she remember? Aurora’s thoughts spin as she tries to find an alcohol-fueled explanation.
”Val!” Aurora springs to her feet and runs over...ok more like ‘lurches up and stumbles over. ”Tha’s not righ’! You forgots?!?” She’s squishing Val’s face between her hands, squinting so she can see her more clearly through the alcohol haze. ”You gets consshu..cancoos...coooncuuuushiiiion? Needa get Doc to looks at you.” Aurora turns to their new boss ”She not riggh. No ciruis an’ trying to pay less makes not bad buuuut Sirius works a lot and theen...then we left..left on safe courrse?”
|
|
Anton gets up from his seat abruptly, knocking over his half-full glass of ale. "Ha-ha! Ha. Ha. Wow! Cut her off, amirite? Okay, sweety, I think it's time for jam-jams and lay downs," he rattles off at a full tilt as he tries to calmly collect Aurora in a combination half-nelson bear-hug. "Sir, it's been a mighty fine shindig ya got here, but we gotta think about hitting atmo if we're gonna catch a fair," at this point he shifts his grip so Aurora will stop trying to kick him in the junk, "ah, a fair solar wind, so I'm jus' gonna put this one to bed, and my Chief Engineer Sirus there can," at this point he just gives up trying to drag her out with dignity and just throws her over his shoulder in a fireman, "can, ah, sew up any details you may be concerned over. Compliments to the chef and vinter!" He just turns and marches off, trying to keep two arms around her so she doesn't fall, and another hand over her mouth so she'll stop talking....okay, the mouth thing wasn't a good idea, but she didn't bite that hard.
He makes a beeline for the ship.
Sirus watches them go with a bemused grin. This dinner want near as bad as he thought it would be.
So, do ya have any concerns lad. Beside for the lady, that is. She'll be fine in plenty of time to make sure we get your shipment to ya. New to the strong stuff is all. He says with a knowing sigh.
Anthur, for his part, seems to be in good humor over the whole affair, although his majordomo looks as if he is about to have an apoplectic fit.
"So, Ms. Hills, I guess it's safe to assume that your tale, ah, embellishes the truth a bit, yes? Well, no harm in a good story, is there, though I'm afraid the young lady did make a mess of herself," he says with an amused grin on his face, "now, I am not concerned with your ability to do the job, but I would like to know how much my vice will cost me. Ms. Hills said you normal fee was fifteen thousand credits. I'm willing to pay forty-five thousand, plus another five thousand for out of pocket expenses, but no more. Does this sound fair to you, Mr. Mechanicus?"
Sirus crosses his arms (threatening to bust a seam in the process) and appears to be calculating.
If you can guarantee fuel under 2000 that would be fair. Frankly, sir, I think yer quotin' low. Wha'd'ya say to 48 plus fuel? Probably won't ruin over 2.5k at the most, and we'll have our backs covered if we have ta burn hard away from somethin'. Sound fair?
"Stretches the truth in a few places," Valerie admits, dabbing at the corners of her mouth with a napkin, "but I assure you, the truths were there to be stretched. And as for our crewmate, the young lady will be fine - not everyone holds their liquor well."
As the haggling opens, she watches Sirus, her lips set in a hard line. Triple rate, plus another five for expenses, was already a damn good deal - hell, the captain had agreed to triple alone - and he was trying to talk it up?
Zuckerman chuckles seeing that Sirus wasn't as skilled at negotiations as the captain seemed to think.
"Well, that is a bit greedy. I must admit, but I am starting to hunger for my favored snack. Forty-eight thousand it is, plus another two and a half to cover expenses. Will the usual, half now, half on completion do," he asks, failing to hide the twinkle in his eyes.
Sirus nods and hooks out his hand. Sounds good t'me.
"Agreed," Valerie says calmly, making a note to speak to Sirus about this later. Preferably in front of the captain.
"Excellent! I'll have the money transferred as soon as possible. In the meantime, let's enjoy the rest of the evening, shall we? I would love to hear more of your tales," he says, looking at Valerie with his last sentence.
Sirus stays as long as is polite and departs to prep the ship. On the way he checks that the funds have cleared and stops by the local second hand parts dealer. He picks up two sorely needed plasma flow regulators (slightly dented), fifty feet of vacuum rated ducting and an air tight shipping crate (stained), three liter-sized canisters of spray-on insulation (unlabeled), and a small air pump (noisy). There are a few odds and ends too, but that tended happen whenever he went into places like Joe's even if he was supervised.
Back at the ship he puts in an all nighter setting up the self-contained storage unit and installing the plasma flow regulators on the starboard conduits. That should solve that drift to port and the engine flares in one fell swoop.
Tavid’s eyes widen when the discussion of their fee negotiations commences between Sirus and their patron. He savors the food as he watches the negotiations, almost as if it were a public spectacle arranged by performers. Noreen casually tosses a line into the proceedings, in a way like she’s improvising, but somehow also as if on cue.
He applauds at the end, happy for the increased money, but also pleased for the showmanship. Sirus can buy lots of spare parts with the extra money.
Valerie stays a little longer than Sirus, telling more tall tales over the rest of the meal. Many of them are of the former exploits of herself and the other crew members before they all came together, and many of them are, of course, heavily embellished. They're convincing enough, though - or perhaps it's just the wine increasing her confidence. When Sirus leaves, she does so as well, already mentally working on her words to Aurora.
Dr. Newgen assists in the endeavor by throwing in some science babble to make it seem more credible. He excuses himself a little later and departs to the ship and his lab.
| 1 person marked this as a favorite. |
” Pu’me dow! I gotta go bak” Aurora struggles to get out of Anton’s hold. She doesn’t understand why he’s trying to cart her off; she was doing such a good job at the socializing thing, and she was helping Val and hey, she didn’t get to say goodbye to the host!
She’s about to try screaming louder when Anton grabs something out of his pocket and shoves it into her hands. ”No time for that. I’ve got an important job for ya. See this, we’ve gotta have this fixed before launch but Sirus is stumped. Each side needs to be one color but see, they’re all mixed up. I need ya to fix it, you’re the only one I can trust.”
Aurora stares at the cube. It’s hard to see, something’s off with her vision, but Anton is right, all the colors are mixed together. ”I c’n. I...is impertant. Can do. ‘M helpfuls” Focusing on the Launch Device takes all her concentration so she stops struggling against Anton and lets him haul her through the station and on to the ship.
When he deposits her on the nest of pillows and blankets that makes up her quarters she holds the cube up; all the colors are in the right place, go her! She’s helped! ”’M got it. Got cube, fly off mor’nin go WHOOOSH”
The rest of the evening goes well for those who stayed behind. the food and drinks are excellent, and Anthur Zuckerman III thoroughly enjoys Valerie's tales. As all good things must, however, the dinner ends and the crew of the Sweet Doomed Angel are given a farewell as they leave the lavish suite.
Early the next morning, you are given clearance to depart at 1000 hours local. What job are each of you covering, and give me a roll for it.
Dr Newgen preps the medical bay with the nessecary equipment and makes sure all the supplies are in order before they depart.
Sirus gets down to the nuts and bolts (literally) of running the ship. There were about a dozen systems teetering the edge of collapse, after all, and his budget couldn't fix them all. Not even after a triple pay job.
As he works he hopes that this captain isn't an idiot like the last one. All those damaged systems are his fault. Him and his "Sirus, I need more power!" crap. When you're pulling 8.2 Giganewtons out of a 10GN drive that technically is operating at 80% due to your history of trying it out run blockade runners then no, I can't give you "More!" no matter how dramatically you yell it.
|
|
Anton wakes up and tries to tell the dwarven demolition crew to stop using so much dynamite on his head. After that doesn't work he pops an analgesic, takes a long 5-minute shower in his personal bathroom (what? I'm the captain. :p) and wanders down to the communal kitchen to grab a VeggEE-POW drink from the chillabrater. Pouring said veggie drink into a blender he adds two cups of soykaf and half a package of SoyPro. Blending the mixture to a consistancy of icy sludge he downs the brew in a single chug. His senses come back online like a volcano of power. Finally realizing that he needs to check the account (and put on pants) he ensures that the funds were deposited as agreed upon.
'Hmmmm. Not quite the amount I expected. Wait. When I said that Siruis "could" negotiate terms, he didn't think that he "should" negotiate? Ah wu tiae gien ah he did. Alright, went well this time, but must put Val in charge whenever a mouth might need t' open.'
He makes sure to dress properly (pants and all!) and then greets each crew member, making sure that everyone is awake (and sober) and ready to weigh anchor. (He briefly wonders what an 'anchor' is. Some kind of baked good?)
After passing Aurora who seems to be overly-obsessed with a rubix cube, he finds himself unable to fully recall the events of the past night. 'Wait, I remember putting her to bed. Wait, nothing happened, right? Wait, I don't know if anything happened.'
He finds time to hunt down Val and ask a confiding "How drunk was I last night?"
After getting her answer and an overly-loud "ALL CLEAR" from Sirus, Anton makes his way to the cockpit and asks for a green light from all stations.
As he looks over the flight plan to get into atmo, he notices a mild weather front. 'Oh good, I'll get to shout down to Sirus for MORE POWER NOW! I love doing that!' :3
Valerie, as one of those infuriatingly active morning people, is already showered, dressed, and in the kitchen drinking synthetic tea when Anton staggers in. She watches in amusement as he downs his sludge, coughing politely and flicking her eyes down to remind him of his half-dressed state. It was such fun to watch him bolt from the room like that.
Not having much else to do (that was one of the advantages of joining in the manner she did; she wasn't usually expected to do much), she simply wanders the ship, chatting with the crew and making sure everyone's in a good mood. In particular, she makes sure Aurora's sober - as sober as can be, anyway - and patiently begins explaining the effects that alcohol has on the body the morning after.
When Anton seeks her out, she smirks, leaning against the nearest wall and folding her arms over her chest (currently concealed in one of his shirts, unbuttoned to just below the collarbones). "Drunk enough that you can't remember," she points out. "Drunk enough that you thought giving Aurora a combination cube was a good idea - she's done a lot of babbling about 'applying the basic algorithmic principles' to just about everything. And drunk enough to leave Sirus in charge of closing the deal, when you know fully well that I would have been perfectly capable of convincing Zuckerman that our standard rate was seventeen thousand instead of fifteen." She sighs, shaking her hair back over her shoulders, her face growing more serious. "'Ora's hungover and hating the world right now, so I'm gonna go make sure she's alright. You better not go taking advantage of that girl, Captain. You know well as I do she ain't sure of how everything works outside of books. She may be all sixes and sevens, but I worry 'bout her."
|
|
As Anton is talking to Val, he thinks, 'Yeah, she's right, I really should remember to put her in charge of the talkies.'
'Yeah, that's right. And you should make a move.'
'No, Playah, my over-active sex drive. I'm not going to be 'making a move'.
'Okay, ya, that's fine. But you could be all "I'd like my shirt back, right now". Huh? See how it goes.'
'Stop it. If...it's early, there wouldn't be time, even if I could.'
'Okay, fine, just check out her rack.'
'No.'
'What? It's a nice rack. It deserves to be checked out!'
'I'm leaving now. Goodbye, Playah.'
'Be seeing you....'
Anton places a hand on Val's supple shoulder. "You got the right of it, of course." He turns and heads for the cockpit.
'You totally shoulda kissed her.'
'Stop it.'
First Tavid checks the current reports for travel to Garaxia. No major hyperspace storms, quantum fluctuations, or dark energy bubbles. Of course the absence of warnings, doesn’t mean it isn’t dangerous. He remembers a time gliding through a gas giant’s atmosphere after spending twelve hours riding thermals. Grinning, he plots the quickest safe course for Garaxia, annotating it with a variety of alternate routes based on energy requirements, and how much risk they were willing to take.
He also checks some forums about the current politics of Garaxia, police activity, underworld battles, and rumors. Finally he wanders through his contact list, looking to see if anyone has recently been there or is going soon.
Things go perfectly as the Angel departs. Even loafing about and joking, Valerie manages to lift the spirits of the rest of the crew. Even with Tavid's course not being as good as it could have, things go swimmingly.
Aurora's laying on the floor of the medical bay. "Dr. Dax. Am I dying? Did he put biological weapons in the drinks? Is that why my head feels this bad?"
Sadly, for Aurora, she's still suffering the mother of all hangovers when the ship arrives in Garaxia.
Looks like you got a hangover. Looks like a nasty one too. My advice is to rest and avoid bright lights, like this one! Now I've been working on a concotion mixing seltzer water with Arbedian Puffer Venom that might cure you or cause your pancreas to implode. Fifty-fifty shot. For Science?!?
|
|
Anton gets on the ship-wide loud speaker: "Attention, crew and crewettes, we've made planetfall on this fine little mudball where we're supposed to pick up our completely legal cargo for our completely illegal delivery. All crew please report for dis-embarking. Except for Aurora and th' Doc. Aurora, please guard the ship. Doc, please guard Aurora."
Anton thinks about it, then gets back on the loudspeaker.
"Come armed, but no grenades."
Sirus stares at the speaker. No grenades... Takes all the fun out'a it, I tell ya...
A few minutes later he emerges from the engineering section with his weapon of choice, a modified industrial rivet driver he has adapted to a backpack-like battery array. The only reason it's not a Gauss rifle is the fact that a) it's not rifled and b) it's serial number says it's not.
Oh, and he's carrying an array of wrenches and tools as well around his belt as well as two pouches of modified "rivets" for his "gun". In all he looks like he's going to a heavy construction site as long as he doesn't point the monstrosity on his back at you.
Tavid hears the Captain’s suggestion that every one bring a weapon, while he is reading basic information about the current conditions of Garaxia, like the local weather forecast, any news items that might interfere with transportation, festivals or holidays, and basic laws such as weapon regulations. Personal weapons appear to be allowed so long as they don’t exceed certain energy outputs. He goes to his cabinet and pulls out his shocker and firearm. He leaves the smoke grenades and vibroknife. The shocker he tucks into his right boot. The gun he belts to his hip. He knows he isn’t a dashing or dangerous figure even with weapons.
Finally, he looks at himself in the mirror. His features haven’t changed recently. A middle aged man. Balding black hair, eyes like a blue sky with a hint of twilight, ears slightly sticking out, plump lips and cheeks. Skin that had too much long term exposure to UV, wrinkly and a soft persistent pink.
The Doctor reaches below his desk, grabs a large contraption with tubes and wires sticking out and an overlarge pistol he has no right holding, and continues writing stuff down on his databoard.
After getting ready for any potential, ah, aggressive negotiations, the crew of the Angel wait while the docking tube is run out to the main personnel airlock. Soon, they are being whisked through security and are off to meet their contact in a bar called the Ceresian's Dive.
The place is a Dark, Smoky Bar filled with ruffians and toughs of all stripes, as well as those looking to sell a little pleasure to them, and advertising with outfits that leave little to the imagination, other than their skills, that is. It's also Filled to the Brim with people looking for work, the kind of work that is a little on the shady side.
The contact is found easily enough. Why, it was downright easy given the instructions from Mr. Zuckerman, and the description of the contact who...
Aurora finds she has run of the whole ship to herself, and that everyone forgot to lock their doors when they left.
I beg your pardon! This is not "home made"! This is a legitimate piece of engineering equipment that has been professionally modified for extra-asmospheric use! The serial number is right here under the main exhaust port. You go ahead and write that down and call it into Ajax Unlimited out of Mars, then wait a week for then to get back to you while my shop clogs up your docking ring. Go ahead!
Being alone on the ship is a new adventure! Whatever Dax had her drink seems to be working; her head isn’t killing her anymore although it kind of feels like she can smell colors. But that’s just a fun new sensation!
She knows better than to go through other people’s rooms, she’s already gotten the lecture about people having exclusive rights to atoms at a specific point in the space-time continuum. It’s very different from where she grew up but isn’t that the point of being a big fancy Explorer?
Aurora pads through the common areas of the ship in her bare feet. Stuff in the common areas are shared so she can do whatever she wants there. Maybe there’s something that she can fix or make better? Anton told her to watch the ship, maybe she could write a defensive program for the computer?