( june event log )

[hownkai]

Who: Everyone
When: June 20th and on
Where: The Moira
What: Something seems to be internally wrong with the ship! Caducus Secondary seeks retribution for its sister Caducus Primary!
Warnings: None for now. Please label your content!

E V E N T

doors to windows "Follow, and the universe will open where there was once walls." With the Collectives now behind them, the atmosphere of the Moira seems to have subsided into the general daily grind of ship living. Shifts pass, meals are served, and the occasional tiff continues to hum in the background. However, whether new or veteran, today is not like any other day the crew have seen or experienced so far. The thrum of the ship is a normal one. Those aboard feel it, know it. In fact, whether you realize it or not, the pulse of the engine, its wings, and that of the Ingress is a constant, consistent buzz in the back of your mind and under your feet. Even during planet excursions, it’s almost like a pull to draw you back to the ship and ground you to the present moment. It’s familiar. It’s late, in the early hours of twilight, that everything begins to feel off. The Moira suddenly begins to drift, tipping gently to one side and resulting in everything on board beginning to roll and tip over. So those in their beds may abruptly find themselves thrown onto the floor. Those walking from a shift back to their rooms or elsewhere on the ship will likely be thrown against a wall. The movement is drastic, but the ship’s systems realign the Moira within several minutes of the event. Anyone near the Ingress room will hear the Captains arguing with one another, and those that go closer will see that Captain Manessah is standing in the middle of a non-functioning Ingress. It’s off, with no swirling light, and they can’t seem to get it to come back on. It’s clear to anyone that comes by that the Captains are worried, bordering on frightened by the fact that it doesn’t seem to want to restart itself—if that was even a possibility of the Ingress at all. They begin to disagree with each other on the best way to fix it, their spoken language changing to something that the MID can’t translate. Captain Thán exits the room in a rush, not stopping to speak to anyone, and the other two continue to try and find a solution to this problem. Not long after, they send out a ship-wide message informing crew that they are relieved of their duties for the rest of the week except for basic cleaning and cooking. Any personnel with experience in technology and matters relating to the Ingress are asked to come to the Ingress room. ☄ Turn It Off, Turn It On Anyone who comes to the Ingress room will be asked to clean, repair, and examine the Ingress. The Captains don’t say why it’s urgent that it be fixed, but it’s obvious that they want it to be done immediately. Crew members can assist one another in taking the coolant systems apart to maintenance them or to suggest ways to fix the machine. After a few hours of steady work, that familiar thrum will be felt under everyone’s feet and the Ingress machine will power back on. However, both the Captains and the crew will notice one startlingly obvious difference: the moving blue light and energy has darkened around the edges. There appears to be a person standing just on either side but can’t come through. The shadow remains there no matter what anyone does, and the colors flicker and alter depending upon which crew member is the closest. And like most things, they always come in pairs. Later that evening, a broadcast is received via Navigation that’s translated across the entirety of the Moira, both over an intercom and over the MID. While it is received as a text, a nondescript voice announces it promptly: Greetings. We are sending this as a formality on behalf of our sister, Caducus Primary and its survivors. In accordance with our beliefs, the travesty that has occurred in the past must be made equal. That equality means lives given for those taken. While terms are unlikely to be made and agreed upon, they will be heard. A decision to flee will be seen as an act of guilt and cowardice. This is the only warning that will be made. You will be given time to prepare for our approach, People of the Vessel Moira. With this message received, Navigation also informs the Captains, who then relay to the crew, that a ship bound from Caducus Secondary are within range and have made it clear they are here to settle a “debt” by attacking. Members of the crew are being divided into randomly assigned teams - which can be found temporarily listed in the MID under the directory - and encouraged to discuss plans to help prevent and preserve the lives of those aboard. Reporting these ideas will be the responsibility of elected team leaders, and a final decision will be made shortly thereafter by the Captains.

Comments

miles vorkosigan | ota

[forwardmomentum]

[ to say that miles is invested in the situation would be a little bit of an understatement.

miles was there. back on caducus primary, when it all went to hell, when bruce's unintended rampage had destabilized the planet's very core, he was there. right at ground zero, running rescue and evac on every moiran and caducan alike. they'd tried to evacuate the whole damn planet -- sure folly, of course, but hell if they hadn't tried. and miles had died trying, skewered by a belly full of glass before clark could get there in time.

so the way they handle things here is important to him -- no, not just to him. it's vital to the ship and whatever future they might hope to have here.

so naturally he's fixated as hell on it and is abandoning much sleep in favor of poring over the situation. he's by no means an expert on these people, but he'd at least spent time with them. died for them. he can be seen with one of his recently acquired datapads at pretty much all times now -- daytimes in the personnel office, evenings in the bar or his private office, mealtimes too. if you spot a stunted little man of 4'9 with a crooked spine and pair of leg braces, then congratulations, you have found defense team leader miles vorkosigan. not for the first time, he's frustrated with how this is being handled, and not for the first time, their options don't look good. it's a political disaster any way you look at it, and it only goes downhill from there. so, yes, please, come talk to him about it, because god knows he's got a headache over it. ]

bar

[notglitching]

[Identifiable is a good trait in an admin, though "visible in a crowd" might have helped too. Still, Rinzler had found traces of the user's signature in the office he'd checked first, and it's not hard to pick out here with a quick scan.

He picks his way closer, and the faint prickle of power gives way to visual cues. Miles_Naismith_Vorkosigan isn't a user Rinzler's communicated with previously, and at a glance, he doesn't seem to be coded for combat. An analyst then? The rough plan that had been sent out in mass wasn't completely worthless, even if some of the user's priorities were... questionable.

Rinzler's steps are quiet through force of habit, and the surrounding conversations of the bar override what traces might be heard. Still, his arrival won't go completely unnoticed. There's a low ticking rumble, like a damaged hard drive catching with each spin, that stops a pace behind Miles and slightly to the side. If he glances back, he'll find a dark-armored shape lit by red-orange markings. Rinzler's mask is angled towards Miles... and maybe just a little bit past. He's trying to read what's on the datapad.]

IM READY

[forwardmomentum]

[ they've never formally met, but miles knows exactly who rinzler is.

even if he weren't personnel officer, he'd know who rinzler is. rinzler's the menace who killed J and did harm to bel when they'd first arrived on the ship. whatever his reasons, they're opaque to miles, but it doesn't matter. bel can hold their own in a fight, generally speaking, but there's no way that killing J wasn't an act of murder.

the moment miles senses rinzler's presence he leans away, instinctively holding the datapad to his chest, and twists to give rinzler a flat, expressionless look. ]

Patrons on the other side of the bar, thank you. [ his voice is just as flat, borderline toneless, and he looks pointedly across the bar to the bar stools. get out from behind the bar, rinzler. ] Can I help you?

[ the fuck do u want ]

YOU'D BETTER BE

[notglitching]

[The helmet tips up, pointedly tracking that retreat of the datapad. Defensive much, user? Still, Rinzler doesn't turn or step away, instead reaching for the MID on his wrist. A touch activates a holographic keyboard underneath and a projected textbox to the program's side. Characters scroll out in a red-orange glow that matches the program's own lights.]

Status ('patron'): invalid.

[He doesn't want your boring user liquids, thanks all the same.]

Requested feedback to planned threat response.

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles's lips press into a thin line, his eyes narrowed. ]

Well, you're sure as hell not the bartender, so get on the other side of this bar, and then maybe we can talk.

[seeingscarlet]

[Wanda's fairly certain they've put her on the wrong team. She's no great negotiator and the only skills she has that might be applicable are things she very desperately does not want to the rest of the crew to know about. It's been a thing she's wanted to avoid since the beginning, but it's only very recently that the thought of revealing herself makes some nameless fear rear its head. There's nothing to be afraid of...right?

Wanda could pick Miles out in the mess hall blind with the amount of stress he's projecting. She pauses at the table, not quite sure if company is welcome though Miles sorely looks like he needs some sort of distraction.]

Your food is getting cold. [Please don't make her have to force you to eat, Miles.] Are you all right?

[forwardmomentum]

Ah?

[ miles's head jerks up to see wanda, and she's got that concerned look he's come to associate with people thinking he's doing something truly stupid and to his own detriment. he glances at the half-eaten food, blinking, and his mouth twitches into a small, rueful smile. ]

Ah. Yes, I'm alright. As alright as I'm going to be, anyway. [ he sets down the datapad and obediently pokes at his food, rubbing his face. he looks tired, but not nearly as tired as he'd been in march. ] Just working on a defense plan. Trying to see how narrowly we can avoid all getting blown to bits.

[ that's supposed to be a joke. ]

Bar, Enjoy your headache, Miles

[neveroutwrenched]

[This whole thing was a fucking mess.

The Caducans were right. They owed them, and they owed them in a big way. Which is what made this situation so frustrating. That and the way it was being handled, of course.

A fact that Ratchet has been very willing to share with just about anyone who will listen. He’s hardly even been participating in the planning, caught up instead on the moral imperative of righting their wrong and being painfully and blatantly guilty. Not exactly most of the ship's priority.

There’s a deep irony to Ratchet ending up in the bar, that no one here would appreciate. It almost makes him laugh. Except he really doesn’t feel like laughing. Less so when he sees Miles Vorkosigan there, looking like he’s working diligently on some plan of attack - probably his plan of attack - and Ratchet knows he should mind his own business but can't. He's too stuck on how wrong all of this is.]

So, figured out how to get us out of this one yet?

[His tone is sarcastic leaning heavily into bitter.]

what a joy

[forwardmomentum]

[ ah, ratchet. starting off strong with the sarcasm, he sees. ratchet is clearly in a Mood. which, on one hand, miles can't blame him for; he was there for the total shitshow that was caducus primary, and he understands the implications just as well as anyone here, maybe even better.

on the other hand, this is also the guy who made a drunk call-out post on the captains, so miles will take his judgment with a handful of salt.

miles smiles tightly -- not so much in response to ratchet as the stress, although ratchet's, in miles's opinion, self-indulgent sarcasm doesn't help. ]

Working on it. [ even geniuses need time, okay. but miles isn't really sure if ratchet actually came to talk, or just to drink. ] What can I get you?

SORRY ABOUT THE DELAY

[neveroutwrenched]

[Ratchet raises an eyebrow, taking a seat at the bar, given Miles a sullen look. He's halfway tempted to order a drink, but decides against it, resting his chin in his hand.]

Do you really think this is going to be solved like this?

[he gestures vaguely.]

S..AME......

[forwardmomentum]

[ so he doesn't want a drink. not yet, anyway. miles rubs at his lips, trying not to look tired. ]

I think it's too soon to say one way or the other. That we have a disaster on our hands is undeniable, but I think we have to at least try.

bar

[bosswald]

[Clara's so wrapped up in attempting to come up with her own solutions and plans for the situation that she doesn't seek Miles out until after she's spoken with Sans and hears that Miles has a military background. It wasn't that Sans outright said he did as much as said the leaders of the other two groups were military backgrounds (specifically military man and military woman) and given that Miles is the only male leader, it's easy to piece two and two together and want to seek him out.

Not only to get advice, oh no. She's got pumping him for information in mind.

Clara seeks him out after a couple of days of no sleep, dark circles under her eyes making her look like a zombie as she approaches him at the bar. Climbing up into a seat, she primly folds her arms up on the bar top, looking over at him curiously.]

Is this what you do when you're not being a military man or making up personnel files on all of us?

[Got to get the small talk out of the way before getting to business, after all.]

[forwardmomentum]

[ it's cute small talk, at least. miles's mouth twitches into an amused half-smile. ]

I'm only a spy back home, you know. [ he breathes out a short laugh through his nose, setting down the datapad so he can roll his shoulder until it gives a satisfying pop. he's getting a little stiff, standing on his step-stool all hunched over the bar like this. ] If you mean trying not to get us all killed, then yeah, sounds about a day in the life. What can I get you?

[bosswald]

Something strong.

[She laughs a little, but her face is entirely serious. She's worked up enough to need a drink to relax.]

Something that will help me sleep.

[Because she really isn't doing enough of that, being too busy being caught up in planning and sticking her nose in all kinds of business. If she can have a couple of drinks and find a way to feel drowsy, it would really be better for everyone.]

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles raises an eyebrow in concern. ]

You know, we've got the medbay for that sort of thing. [ that doesn't stop him from reaching for a bottle of wine from the shelf behind him. ] Feeling the pressure, I take it.

ivan

[forwardmomentum]

[ overall, miles has been pretty conscious of making sure he doesn't overwork himself too badly. the events of march and april, and what a terrifying blur they were, are still fresh in his mind. he has no desire to go back to that place, oh no.

that doesn't diminish the urgency of the situation any. mishandle this, and they could all wind up dead. that's what the caducans seem to want, anyway. dammit. so miles has been going about his daily business, the bar and the personnel office and mealtimes, just accompanied by a datapad at all times, because it's not like this is going to solve itself.

but apparently he's missed a mealtime today, having sequestered himself in his private office for some quiet, because he isn't aware of the time until there's a chime at his door and he's opened it to see his cousin ivan with a tray of food and a bottle of wine. rubbing his jaw and feeling the scratch of incoming stubble, miles glances down at his MID and twists his lips. ]

Missed dinner, didn't I?

[whatdidisay]

Yeah.

( ivan says, setting it down on the desk. and look, miles, there's a sandwich for himself there, too. so he doesn't steal miles' food. )

You seem to be taking this seriously.

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles looks up at him halfway to sitting back down in his chair, brows drawing together as his eyes narrow. his mouth is half-open in an expression of nascent disbelief at his cousin. ]

Of course I'm taking this seriously. If I don't we all die.

[whatdidisay]

And trust me, I appreciate it. ( ivan says, one hand on his heart. ) Is this what it's always like? Back with the Dendarii, I mean. I got a bit of it, but never the full experience.

Although, mind you, the kidnapping is the closest I've wanted to come to the full experience.

[lets_see_what_happens]

[Gregor is foolish enough to interrupt Miles hunched over and reading at the bar, touching light fingertips to his shoulder and settling into a stool next to him, his brow creasing faintly.]

Miles. How are things on the Defense end?

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles looks up, blinking up at Gregor, a little bleary, but not nearly as bad as back in march. he gives gregor a grim smile and taps the datapad. ]

A hot mess. Having these discussions is like -- well, I'm sure you've had Council sessions when no one would sit down or shut up or advocate for anything but their own opinion. [ really, he's not bitter. just...a bit tired and irritable. ] How about Negotiation? Come up with anything to sway those unshakable bastards yet?

[lets_see_what_happens]

So, every Council session, then.

[Gregor leans against the bar and shakes his head.]

Mr. Hamilton is doing most of the heavy lifting on that one, surprising absolutely no one at all. I hope the two of you are getting along, because any other option is sort of terrifying to contemplate. [He props his chin in one hand , his eyes on the datapads before they flick up to Miles' face.]

How are you holding up?

[diamondslap]

[aurelia is annoyed miles is her team leader. very annoyed. she should be leader, she has fantastic ideas.

that being said, she also enjoys ruining miles' day, so she sides into a seat next to him at the bar, grinning a predatory cat-like grin.]

I've an idea, darling. You'll love it.

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles draws in a long, thin, quiet breath. aurelia. if they weren't in the middle of deep space, he'd swear he caught the smell of brimstone just now.

he turns his head to look at her, a mild expression plastered onto his face, and he gives her a serene smile. ]

You're going to take a long walk out of a short airlock? You're right, it's brilliant. Love it.

[diamondslap]

Oh, aren't you a riot. No, darling, not today.

[she tents her fingers.]

Now, I went with the lovely Jasper and Furiosa on Del Pascia to steal the spare power cores. Sort of a bugger you to the mechanical menace. I believe we should overcharge the cores and fire them at the ship. Then sit back and watch the fireworks!

...Depending on how radiation travels through space, I suppose.