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Post by Soline on Mar 24, 2015 20:17:15 GMT -5
Sometimes things go wrong. Like the only mechanic droid aboard your spacecraft breaking down halfway to nowhere on what should be a routine check-in on a space station at the edge of civilization. Or when a routine check-in on a bunch of eggheads actually ends up with your small crew fleeing from the station that was now overrun with unfriendly pirates. Or when, right as you think you're in the clear your engine starts making a noise that it has no business making.
Of course, sometimes things go really wrong. Like when you have to report back to your boss, one of the most well-known hardasses in the galaxy, that all of the above just happened to you.
That's how the crew of the Paragon found themselves stuck on the planet Tychus in the Tandava System. Tychus was a particularly special dirt-hole out this far from Earth. One of the most recent planets to end up terraformed, the locals had somehow managed to already ruin it in their haste to become the go-to center of industry for the outer systems. It also rather famously alternated between overly-crowded urban centers, and open uninhabited dust-fields.
It'd been two days since the Paragon had limped into port in the city of New Constantine. Calls had been made and a small crew of engineers had been refitting the engine ever since. Cate Baxter and Silas Sedgewick, the pair that currently made up the crew of the Paragon had been booted from the ship they called home and been forced to make due in a cramped motel room outside the port with very specific instructions from Soline.
"Do not leave New Constantine, do not bring attention to yourselves and do not under any circumstances try to contact me before I next call you."
With that they'd been left alone and in silence; awaiting Soline's orders, or more likely, her punishment for their failure. They'd had no word on how the repairs of the Paragon had been going, and hadn't even been allowed to go back and get their stuff after they'd been hurried off.
As such, it was rather surprising when there was a knock on their door.
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Mar 24, 2015 22:14:00 GMT -5
Of all the jobs that went wrong, that was probably the worst. One hiccup after another, but at least she didn't lose half of her face in the process. She did, however, take a bolt of plasma to the bicep, earning her a fizzled and irritating looking scar, and putting her right arm out of commission while it mended in a sling during their downtime. At least she still had her left, so that was worth something.
"You know, we cleared the station of the pirates," she started, not for the first time. "Well, I cleared them out, but still, we did our job. The least Soline could do is set us up with nicer accommodations. It was a routine check, and we saved the entire research project. Without us, those lab coats would have all been killed, and Soline would be out her investments," she carried on, pacing about the room as agitation raised to new heights.
Silas was usually just fine aboard a ship. She could wait for hours during a stakeout without a peep. She was no stranger to field work, and yet when it came to waiting around without a job at hand, the Narid specialist couldn't hold still. She needed something productive to do, and without her right arm--and more importantly without Cate's approval--she wasn't about to dismantle the air conditioning unit and re-purpose it into something suitably Narid looking, which was to say a human engineer's, or interior designer's, nightmare.
Just as more complaints were about to exit her mouth, a knock on the door caught her attention. " . . . are they done?" she wondered out loud, looking at Cate for some sort of idea. When in doubt, she defaulted to the pilot. Field work was when she was in charge, and this wasn't field work.
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Post by Ashleigh Blevins on Mar 24, 2015 22:27:04 GMT -5
After just a couple brief knocks - barely enough for courtesy - the door swings open, probably in the middle of Silas's question. The light frames a large humanoid figure in silhouette before it steps forward.
The figure turns out to be a man of about average height, with a stocky build, and weathered features, holding a datapad. He looks around, lights flashing on the highlights in his muddy blonde hair.
"You're the crew of that duck?" He asks bluntly, voice like two rocks hitting each other repeatedly.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Mar 24, 2015 22:51:43 GMT -5
"I know..." Cate answered for what was probably the thousandth time since they'd holed up in the room. The pilot was lying on the bed, staring up at the chipped ceiling as Silas prowled circles around their room. She wasn't like Silas. She could handle being in a room without anything important to do for long stretches. The antsy shaking of her suspended foot gave away her nerves however, the Paragon was like her baby and she didn't like to be separated. Least of all when she didn't know how the ship was doing.
"Look-- Soline's smart. She knows we done good out there, and she'll see us paid. Prob'bly just mad about everythin' else. An' ya know. Shootin' the messenger." Cate shrugged. "Besides--" She began, cutting off at a sudden knock at the door. Another shrug was sent Silas' way at the question and before she could finish sitting up the door burst open and some strange man was entering their room.
She sat there, staring at the intrusion dumbly for a solid several seconds before she found her voice. "She ain't no duck. The Paragon is the pride o' space an' you're talkin' to her pilot." Squinting at the man further, she tried to get some sort of read off of him. "What're you. One o' the work monkeys that've been tryin' to fix 'er up?"
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Mar 24, 2015 22:58:56 GMT -5
"What she said," barked Silas, not at all appreciating the sudden visitor. "Who're you?" she asked, eyeing the man up and down as she gave her best stance, trying to come off as bigger than she actually was. However with her arm in a sling and her usual gear left on the ship, she didn't seem like a gunslinger under Soline's employment.
Rather than the typical blast-vest and duster, she wore a pair of grey sweatpants (some things never get old), a black tanktop, and wore black shoes designed for running and exercise, rather than her usual brown boots. Top it all off with a sling for her arm and Silas was hardly an intimidating force. The only thing that could give her occupation away was the fit build, and burn marks on her face and newly acquired burn mark on her right arm.
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Post by Ashleigh Blevins on Mar 24, 2015 23:12:20 GMT -5
"...Hmph. Well, my apologies, ma'am. I'm sure you fly her great when she's not on fire." He looks at his datapad rather nonchalantly, then back up at them. "My name's Ash. I fixed the burnt out rotary coil in the carbo-silicate solid state transferral chamber of your engine's starboard core stabilizer. Fancy bit of work, if i say myself."
The large man messes with his datapad some more, wandering over to a chair and helping himself. "Looks like Soline got you set up well nice here, so that's good. Less for us to worry about, really."
He kicks his feet up, idly browsing his datapad. He seems to have made himself right at home already.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Mar 25, 2015 12:40:02 GMT -5
"You're damn right I do." Cate shot back, "Fly 'er great even when she is!" With her part said, she flopped back to staring at the ceiling while the tech-head rambled off about the engine.
"So what-- you here to tell us the Paragon is good to fly again Ash? Or you jus' tellin' us what it is that went wrong? Cos I ain't got a clue about how to fix a carbo-what'sit or nothin'. And lettin' Silas near the engine ain't gonna end well for it."
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Mar 25, 2015 12:51:34 GMT -5
"How do you know Soline?" asked the ever suspicious and wary xeno-tech. Here came this man, with a voice thicker than the armored plating of the Paragon herself, putting his feet up and relaxing as if he owned the place. That was her shtick, after all.
"And what do you mean us?" she hissed, eyes narrowing at the presumptuousness the man had to offer. Silas was a woman of words, most con artists were, and phrasing was particularly important to her.
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Post by Ashleigh Blevins on Mar 25, 2015 14:06:40 GMT -5
"She's my boss. Figure she's yours too." He messes around with his datapad even more, then looks coolly up at Silas, regarding her scars for another moment, then looks to Cate. "I wasn't told why i'm here. Most of us aren't, and you know it. I could ask why you're here, but you wouldn't be able to answer me. Would you?"
He stretches out, resting the datapad on his chest, face down, his arms going behind his head. "Now, as to why i say 'us', i figure it's just easier. Soline's got no discernible motives for sending me here, so i figure i may as well make some deductive leaps - for fun, i assure you."
He grins a cocky smile at them both, rubbing his hair.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Mar 25, 2015 16:14:44 GMT -5
"Actually we usually are told exactly what we're doin'." Cate answered for the pair. "See, Soline sends us our mission on the Paragon an' we fly out to take care of it. That's our gig."
She shifted into her side, still not bothering to sit upright. "Now. Do the two of us look like we're about to go on a mission of any sort?" She gestured to the sweats wearing, arm-slung Silas and then to herself. Barefoot and clad only in a heart adorned purple tanktop and pajama pants that had what looked like otters on them, Cate managed to come off as less useful than Silas at the moment.
"Ooh, Si. Maybe he's our new gear head. Think he watches after his noggin any better'n the last one? Shame what happened but boy was it funny watchin' him tryin' to keep on without it."
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Mar 25, 2015 21:22:10 GMT -5
"Soline is our boss, but she thinks higher of us than she does you, apparently," she grunted, starting to bring her arm up to fold them across her chest, until she realized her sling prevented that, so with a small frown she put it back down and stuffed it into her pocket. "We're here waiting for further orders. We wrapped up our job and now we're to wait for repairs to finish up, and for her to give us a new set of coordinates." She did her best to twist the phrase to make it seem like they knew exactly what was going on, when in truth Ash was right, they were sitting stupid.
At least that wasn't the norm, so Silas felt proud about that.
"Think so, Cate? Maybe. I wonder if this one tells jokes. I do like a grease monkey with a sense of humor," she chuckled.
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Post by Ashleigh Blevins on Mar 25, 2015 21:40:56 GMT -5
Ash's eyes raise slightly, the rest of his face moving to a cool surprise. "So i see she does. Well then." He scratches at the thin beard on his face. "You're right; you two don't look like you're kitted for a mission. Right yet, anyhow."
"But for the second, your ship's near ready to fly. Most of the damage is ready, and i suppose with a few patches you could fly her right now. But Soline's putting the extra time and effort into making sure she's a nice pretty birdy first." He rests his hands on his slightly paunchy stomach, his modest work coat splaying out. "As for me, i'm just an engineer. I might be your gearhead. But my jokes are terrible. You'd find better material in the worn out cogitator of an f-series unit's memory core." He snorts, smirking at his tasteless nerd joke.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Mar 25, 2015 22:19:12 GMT -5
"...I'm sure." Cate responded dully, she never bothered with the technical side of ship-running. To her, it was all about the feel of it. She knew when her baby was good or not, and everything it could do, but she didn't know the first thing about the ship's innards.
"Well. I'd say to make yourself comfy but ya seem to have done that so instead, I'm Cate an' the grumpy one is Silas. I'm guessin' if Soline is sendin' us house guests, we'll be gettin' told to do somethin' soon. I hope she's not expectin' us to go runnin' around like this. The only time I've been less prepared on a mission was that time we came on an asteroid field righ' when I was in the middle of a bath and I had to fly us through i--"
Whatever story Cate was cut short as an Aether in handcuffs was shoved through the door.
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Post by Argon on Mar 25, 2015 22:36:37 GMT -5
It was all Argon could do to keep himself on his feet as he stumbled through the door. Dignity was a luxury that would have to wait for another day. Hopefully, he wouldn't have to share this room long with these... humans? He hoped his clothes, ruffled though they might be, had not torn - he'd paid a duke's ransom for them!
"I understand doors may be complicated to you, you brute, but I'm capable of getting through one on my own even with these horrific metal cuffs around my wrists." Argon snapped at the man who had shoved him. A quick glance at his rather large gun reminded him that getting snippy with the man was perhaps not the best long-term decision he could make, so he made an awkward half-bow and turned to the people occupying the room.
"Ladies, gentleman, forgive my rude and..." Argon glanced sidelong at the heavily armed merc who was still perfectly capable of shoving him, perhaps through the window this time "...unintended entrance. I am Argon, paramour, ar-tist and purveyor of inspired beauty to those with refined taste. Though perhaps you are already well supplied with beauty and have no need of me."
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Mar 25, 2015 22:42:10 GMT -5
Silas was about to continue with her perspective of Cate's story, as should any good second of a duo would, but then her thought process was interrupted as an Aether was shoved into the room. " . . . and then there's this asshole," she complained, lazily pointing at the newcomer, then throwing her arm into the air in frustration. Do Aether even have assholes? she idly wondered.
"What the hell is going on here?" Her question was directed towards the man with the gun, but given his attire he didn't seem like the type to rightly know, beyond orders, likely handed down by Soline.
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