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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Apr 7, 2014 17:51:29 GMT -5
Space, the final frontier . . .
These are the voyages of―channel switch. Silas flicked rapidly from channel to channel, having reconfigured one of the consoles in the cockpit against express orders not to. People really ought to hide those wrenches better.
"I'm telling you, Catey," she started, feet kicking up and resting on the 'dash' of the ship. "It doesn't hurt to leave stuff on auto-pilot every now and again. The Narid? They've got this really wicked algorithm to allow for captain-less FTL travel. Just gotta scrap a few of the safety mechanisms is all," she muttered, as if that were a perfectly rational thing to do.
"You ever sail one of their boats?"
The crew of the Paragon had been in transit for the past five hours, and would arrive at their destination in the next thirty minutes. They were hired off of Ferrum, by a former ship captain who had lost a good deal of his crew when his ship ran out of power. The shipyards have since received a great deal of complaints about the number of escape pods available in the Horizon-class freighters.
Their mission was to board the derelict vessel, search for salvageable parts and cargo, and return with the bodies of the lost crew. Dirty work, but at least it pays well.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Apr 7, 2014 18:18:27 GMT -5
"I sail the Paragon." Cate replied simply, leaning over the console to flip a few of the various switches. "The Narid want to get torn up at light speed because they decided to let a program assume where the asteroids are, ain't no business of mine."
Satisfied for now, she leaned back in her chair and took a swig of soda from a nearby bottle. "No computer could land us as cleanly as me. Besides, what would I do if I wasn't flying this bird?"
A light started to beep on the console and she quickly set her drink down. Fingers flew over the controls for a moment and she gave a grin. "Like that. Can't account for every piece of scrap metal that's out there anymore."
She leaned on the intercomm, calling out to the rest of the crew. "Ladies~! And Finn." She grinned to herself, "We'll be pulling out of FTL soon, so make sure you're all suited up nice for meeting our new friends."
Turning back toward Silas, she gave the woman a pointed look. "Don't you have to be getting ready for our trip to that rustbucket about now?"
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Post by Augusta Finch on Apr 7, 2014 19:08:37 GMT -5
"She does..." Augusta's voice echoes from the doorway. "Silas. What have I said about feet on the control panel? And that's a preemptive 'no' on your requests to refit the ship with alien AI. We are NOT foregoing safety mechanisms." The woman states firmly as she rounds the corner. She steps in, prepared and already dressed in her atmospheric suit, minus the helmet. The garment seems to compliment her athletic figure, hinting at her curves yet preferring function over form.
Her face betrays a slight frown at the state of the bridge, particularly on the soda cans discarded empty near the chair. She afforded the pilot to reside in the room as an accommodation, but in exchange for a certain degree of tidiness. A condition Cate needed to work harder to uphold.
Augusta glances moves forward, stopping behind Silas. She looks down to the console Silas had been using and reaches brusquely over her shoulder, switching it over to the communications display. "Any hails since over the past few hours? I doubt we are alone out here." She glances between the two women.
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Post by Dominica Garza on Apr 7, 2014 19:22:49 GMT -5
The heavy boots of Dominica's atmosphere suit clang up the hallway and she stops at the bridge. Her gloved hands grip the top of the door's frame and she leans inside. She looks around the room ambivalent to the clutter that's accumulated inside. She looks ready for action. A pair of blaster pistols at her sides, a collpsable sword sitting closed on her leg and a shotgun strapped to her back. Knowing her she's got other weapons hidden away too. She yawns and looks to Augusta. "Any news, cap?"
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Post by Keani Evans-Pritchard on Apr 7, 2014 19:46:14 GMT -5
The bridge quickly looked crowded once Keani slipped through the entry. Looking like she just woke up, she brushed a lock of hair from her face before smoothing the wrinkles from her jumpsuit. "New friends?" she asked, sparing a glance toward the viewport past the consoles. "They gonna be more of the bug types, or we talking something closer to humes?"
Keani shifted to lean against one of the bulkheads, staring down at the navchart. "There's not too much for us out here. Are we meeting these new folks first, or are we jumping down into this fancy wreck we've been contracted for?" She grimaced for a moment, cupping her hand over her belly as it rumbled. "I'll have some grub ready for us once when it's done."
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Post by Glendan Finnigan on Apr 7, 2014 20:34:51 GMT -5
Finn, by virtue of being the ship's repair man and mechanical expert, was rather occupied with preparing for the operation. He was, at that moment, in Engineering, running a dozen tasks simultaneously. A simulation was running on one terminal, of a projected damage report for the ship they were to board and how it might affect docking with it. Next to it, the ship was double checking the emergency air modules and the release mechanisms for them, in the event of decompression.
I'm so green, it's really amazing
I'm so clean, too bad I can't get all the dirt off of me.
The music blasting from the ancient jukebox, put in the empty space where a pair of lockers had once stood, was barely audible over the sound of screeching metal coming from the work bench, situated dangerously close to the entrance of the reactor. Several armatures descended from the ceiling, holding drills, clamps, manipulators, recording devices, saws, and various other tools of the trade.
I'm so sane, it's driving me crazy
It's so strange, I can't believe it.
Finn glanced up at the sound of the intercom, or rather, the ear piece that brought the unheard messages to him directly. He stopped his attempts at readjusting the coupling between a conduit and the backpack-sized device on the table before him, and reached over to tap a button, just in time for those in the cockpit to be blasted with the lyrics of the song.
Feels just like I'm falling for the first time
"I'll be ready just as soon as I finish getting the rest of you ready! I swear, the way you people treat your equipment, you think I don't have anything better to do! An' someone search Sedgie, one of my wrenches is missing again!"
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Apr 7, 2014 21:00:44 GMT -5
"People!" cheered Silas, throwing her arms up into the air as practically everyone poured into the cockpit. At Augusta's request―command, really―she lifted her feet off the panel and swiveled in her chair, eager to push by everyone to make it into the hallway from the cockpit to the main room. "Ever think about taking up cards, Cate?" she called out, spinning on her heels as she walked backwards into the main room. By then she spun back around and started into a half-jog towards the cargo bay, making a quick pit stop by the engine room.
"Ahoy, handsome!" she called out, over the roar of the engine, the jukebox, and the work bench. "I borrowed some of your tools to get a better signal in the cockpit. Fancy how the shipyards leave all those extra bolts and wires in there, huh?" she smirked, knowing just how much Finn hated it when she tinkered with things the Naridian way. Which more or less involved stripping cables and rerouting power in the most inefficient ways, throwing out 'unnecessary' parts and making everything look like a Frankenstein's Monster of a mess.
Without waiting for a response―or more likely a scolding / threat on her life―Silas dashed away and left for the cargo hold, suiting up for their little 'search and rescue'.
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Post by Augusta Finch on Apr 7, 2014 21:38:12 GMT -5
Augusta grabs the com input. "Suit up, prep room. 5 minutes." She shifts her eyes left and right from the councilor to the bodyguard and then focuses on Cate. "Orbit for a minute once we make visual contact for close range scans. No approach until we are prepared to board. Keep sharp."
She addresses Keani. "Our 'friends' are the corpses on said 'fancy wreck'. This is a salvage mission. Prepare for no-atmo action and keep a side arm on you. Likely the hull is compromised."
She turns to Dom and manages a faint grin. "Good..."
Augusta gives the crowd in the cockpit a curt nod and turns to depart, heading for the armory to gather up a side arm and electroblade for the mission before making way for the preparation room.
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Post by Cate Baxter on Apr 7, 2014 22:01:10 GMT -5
Cate frowns as almost the entire crew crams into her cockpit. "Do we go holding meetings in all your dorms? Can't concentrate on keeping us afloat if you're all in here. Come on, I'm sure you have better places to be!" She spins her chair away from the group, returning her focus to the console.
"I'll court her like a regular gentleman." She responded to Augusta's order, "So ya know. Not like Finn does." A few more taps on the console, "...Should be seeing us slowing down in just a moment or so, be ready for that hiccup."
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Post by Dominica Garza on Apr 7, 2014 22:36:23 GMT -5
"Riiight.." Dom smirks and steps back into the lounge. She scoops up her helmet from the table and then turns it upside down to remove the kitten who was hiding in it. She rubs behind his ears with her thickly gloved hand before he hops off of the table and scampers for the dorms. She gives her weaponry a check and then heads for the prep room. She plops down on a chair and double-checks her helmet seals. "Any clue what the ship was carrying, cap?"
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Post by Glendan Finnigan on Apr 7, 2014 23:41:57 GMT -5
A spanner chased Silas out the room as she departed, a angry mutter coming from the mechanic. Looking to the device he was working on, he sighed and stood up, starting to unclamp it from the work frame. Once done, he flipped a switch, powering it on. It began to hum, and after several minutes, a trio of lights sparked into life at the top.
He grinned, then picked the device up, carrying it to where his gear was haphazardly strewn. He set it down, then got himself changed into his flight suit, bulky with all sorts of personally-made modifications. The last of which came by detaching the standard EVA unit, and replacing it with his new device, before awkwardly reattaching the EVA backpack over top of it.
Suited up, he clicked on the intercom. "Captain Finch? The portable gravity generator is finished and ready to be field tested! We won't have to worry about mag locks on this wreck!"
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Post by Keani Evans-Pritchard on Apr 8, 2014 2:01:54 GMT -5
"We'd be meeting in all our dorms if they were vital parts of the ship, too. Who died and made you pilot?" Keani pushed off from the bulkhead by the navcom, a grin on her face as she slipped back out the door into the meeting area. "No atmo and a piece? Sounds like you're expecting company, boss." One hand strayed to the repeater holstered on her hip, lightly touching over the handle before she let go. A look of distaste crossed her face before that too vanished under a veneer of composure.
She half-walked, half-bounced to the prep room, glancing over her shoulder for the others to be slipping in as well. She parked herself against the bulkhead next to the airlock, stifling a yawn while reading over the instrument controls. "We're ready to pop it once things are in place."
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Post by Silas Sedgewick on Apr 8, 2014 2:19:41 GMT -5
Silas worked on the last bits of her suit, slipping it on over her casual clothes―a pair of tan cargo pants, calf-length boots, and a white tanktop. Like the rest of the suits, it was stored in the cargo bay, the same section of the ship where they would be boarding from.
Normally these sorts of procedures could be done by flying into a larger ship's hanger, but when docking with smaller ships, that sort of thing called for Cate's flying expertise. By the time they came out of FTL, Cate would have to position the ship to place its underbelly against the derelict vessel's airlock, where a docking tube from the cargo bay would allow for the shift of gravity and let them board.
"Everyone's so... antsy. You see all the gear Garza was packin'? Think there's something going on that the good Cap'n isn't telling us?" she asked, nodding Keani's way once she entered the cargo hold. She was just finishing zipping up her suit by then, helmet propped under one arm and ready to be secured.
"Looks like we're all suited up, Cap!" she called, touching the intercomm button on the wall. "How're those lines, flygirl?" she asked, referring to the FTL.
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Post by Augusta Finch on Apr 8, 2014 2:28:17 GMT -5
Exactly 5 minutes after Augusta vanished from the bridge, her voice rings out over the ship coms. "All crew report to prep room."
Augusta marches into the prep room holding her helmet underneath her arm. At her hips are a holstered laser pistol and a sheathed electroblade. She places her helmet on the central table and taps a series of buttons on the wall nearby. A section of the wall flashes to life, showing a detailed holographic diagram of a heavy freighter, complete with class, serial number, departure and expected arrival dates along with statistics of the ship in general. She waits patiently for the rest of the crew to gather.
'Horizon-Class RR-7 Heavy Freighter "Pythagoras" Length: 20 m Crew: 4 Passengers: 28 Cargo Capacity: 50 metric tons Consumables: 3 Weeks'
She clears her throat loudly in a bid to garner attention of those in the room and allows the coms to carry her announcement through the ship.
"As you may or may not know, our mission is to find and rescue or salvage this vessel. We do not know its current state, or whether it is still in one piece. What we do know is it suffered failure to life support. The crew is more than likely dead. The few escape pods able to jettison carried the captain, mister John Anders, and three others off once the failure occurred."
Her fingers dance across the panel past a list of crew, all but 4 members grayed out with a stylistic X over their portraits. She stops at the ship manifest.
"The Pythagoras was carrying food and medicine. If the ship is un-salvageable, we will recover the medical supplies along with any non-perishable foodstuffs we can hold, and finish the delivery. Our main goal is to get the freighter functional and returned to Ferrum."
She taps another button, returning the hologram to that of the ship. She reaches out to the hologram and gestures her fingers open, letting the display of the ship grow in size and the upper layer fade out. Underneath is the floor plan of the ship with vital systems labeled neatly.
Augusta raises her voice a little. "Finn. I believe I sent you the plans for the Horizon class engine and control systems. I hope you've done your homework because you are the one getting it moving again should there be damage."
She ceases her fiddling with the diagram and turns to address the room more directly.
"The rest of us will make sure the ship is secure and help as needed with getting the vessel operational. Questions?"
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Post by Glendan Finnigan on Apr 8, 2014 3:10:20 GMT -5
Finn arrived in the prep room with a guest, accompanied by a trunk sized, six wheeled robot. It wasn't a fancy, autonomous unit; it's jerky motions were controlled by a control unit in Finn's left hand, with a cord that ran up his arm and attached to the communication unit if his suit. Strapped to his thigh was a compact auto-pistol, and on the other was a data slate in a secure pouch.
The machine, with the name 'DOLLY' stencilled on what could be seen as it's neck and a cartoon sheep on the other side, was carrying his tools. Or rather, had been piled with as many tools, gizmo's, devices, nuts, bolts, wires, microchips, and various assorted items from his workshop. The way they sat on it, it looked like he may very well have the mess halls sink somewhere in there as well.
"Aye, I got the notes. Browsed them. RR-7's are tough girls, and I doubt whatever happened knocked everything out completely. We'll have her sailin' again in three days, assuming I sleep for two." He jokes, double checking the straps holding the load on Dolly.
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