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old but unfamiliar faces
"We sometimes encounter people, even perfect strangers, who begin to interest us at first sight, somehow suddenly, all at once."
The Ingress has pulled you in. Your body experiences several sensations at once: being pushed forward as if a hand is resting on your back, momentary and startling blindness, a gentle ringing in your head. You have difficulty discerning whether it is hot or cold, but where you have been prodded is noticeably warmer than the rest of you. Some may suffer from dizziness while others are perfectly fine. Once equilibrium has been reestablished, you will notice you are standing on a long platform and that the room is filled with a soft cerulean light. It's slightly humid and dark despite the glow around you, and nothing is familiar. Shortly after, you are led out and toward the medbay.
Inside this room, you are given a physical scan and offered a contract to sign that states you are now part of the crew of the Moira with a specific job. Any questions you might have would be answered in a straightforward manner as well as an explanation about how the Ingress, the thing that has pulled you onto the Moira, is broken and bringing people here unintentionally. This process also consists of a complete work-up of medical history and current health, and afterwards, you are given your MID, a device that is integrated into your hand or wrist with only the slightest pinch. From there, you are guided out of the medbay and to your living quarters.
At first, this month seems no more unusual than the previous one for those who have been aboard the Moira for any amount of time. The crew who had landed on the slaver outpost were rescued, and with everyone aboard, the ship has pushed forward into the darker parts of the Runoff. Anyone arriving through the Ingress follows the same routine—moving from the Ingress room into the Medbay for their physical and contract before being assisted by seasoned crew members and helped to their assigned decks. But all familiar things must eventually come to an end: two final travelers come through the Ingress. The first, and most noticeable difference between them and all the others, is their clothing. Both are dressed in standard Moira uniforms, though they bear the insignia of one sharing the same rank as Captains Cúrre and Thán. After a moment to take in all the people on the platform ahead of them, one of the two latest arrivals approaches one of the Ingress panels and begins to manipulate the controls. The Ingress completely shuts down. Unlike before, however, there isn’t an imbalance felt across the ship; everything remains normal and stable.
Utilizing the computer systems located in the Ingress room, they send out the following message to the crew via the MID:To all those aboard this vessel: I am Ira Phirun, assigned captain of the Moira. First Mate Egan and I will be commandeering all rights to the ship as soon as word is sent to those currently in charge. Expect a more detailed report as soon as all records and logs in Navigation have been reviewed by myself and the First Mate. All questions will be answered in a timely matter. For now, there will be no interruption of daily routine or reprimand if conduct among ranks is broken. Thanks for your time. Heading to Navigation, the Captain and First Mate, for seemingly unknown reasons, approach Navigator Manasseh and have her show them all records and logs of the Moira. Those working in Navigation when the Captain and First Mate arrive will see Mana greet them in a professional manner. Oddly, the Captain and First Mate act very familiar with the Navigator. They review all documents, but when they come upon news that the Ploiatos is on board, their mostly friendly demeanor shifts quickly. The Captain issues a sharp order, unintelligible to those who are close enough to overhear parts of their conversation, and without any warning at all, Mana loses consciousness and collapses right there on the bridge. Within minutes of this happening, the ship as a whole falls into a low power state with basic functions only. Mana’s MID alerts Medbay, and without hesitation, Captain Cúrre places her in cryo with strict orders to those who work there not to disturb the unit.
As promised, the Captain and First Mate soon address the crew.☄ lights down low The lighting has dimmed in all the rooms and halls, the normally crisp air that is pumped from the vents low, and all machines and tech are running at half-speed. These effects can be found throughout the ship. Water in the showers remain hot for only a few minutes before reverting to cold. Recreational equipment powers off not long after it has been turned on. The sanitation and water filtration systems require an hourly manual reboot, and all unused areas of the ship have no power allotted to them until a crew member steps inside. Even then, most functions are not optimal. It’s as if the Moira has been transformed into a dark house with only a candle flickering on the window sill. ☄ reuse & recycle The Captain and First Mate are quick to establish that this is a new regime and go about making the ship and its crew more efficient in the wake of their change in course and the low power state of the ship itself. This means they will systematically inspect each occupied barracks room and leave notes for what needs to be disposed of or stowed away. Unlike before, this is no longer a pleasure cruise, and each member of the crew is a guest on board; they will not tolerate useless clutter. Anything seen as unnecessary will be either placed into storage in the Cargo Bay or disposed of through the airlock. This new need for efficiency also extends to the need to conserve resources until they reach their destination. The showers are set to an automatic timer to minimize water waste. Those few minutes of hot water are all a crew member is now given. Meals are smaller, bordering on ration sizes, and luxuries are done away with entirely in order to preserve supplies so that the ship can go longer before needing to dock at a planet. ☄ new jobs, same faces The Captain and his First Mate, as expressed in their addressing of the Moira, explain that work efficiency is a priority. Applications for a head of the following departments will be accepted for a short period: Navigation, the Tower, Medbay, Defense, the Hold, Sanitation, Ingress work, and the Galley/Mess Hall. (Here.) After reviewing what they receive, one head of department will be chosen and tasked with helping crew find positions relevant to those departments and their own skillsets. They will be allowed to retain any positions that they held before that aren’t ship-functional jobs, but they will have to be done in leisure time. In two weeks time, they’ll be accepting department position applications which will be approved, and all those that do not apply will be assigned in accordance with their initial work application. They will also choose three individuals to act as guards of Ploiatos to ensure that there is a rotation available at all times. Will you choose to follow this new decision and promote yourself into a position of responsibility? Or will you simply wait for a reassignment?
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thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
hallways
Suffice to say, if someone doesn't stop him, he's perfectly content to ignore them and continue on with whatever it is he thinks he's doing, but Adam's outloud musings are enough to give him pause.
Or, at least, enough to get his attention. He's still trying to figure out the nature of whatever brings people here.]
Talking to yourself?
[That sounds like something you say when you're talking to yourself.]
no subject
Thought I was.
[Turning his head to take a look at his unintended audience, Adam gets an eyeful of what he nearly takes for a cyborg– before he realizes that what he'd thought were a series of red eyeplates (the light appearing to coalesce into a single shape) is actually the broad lens of a visor. His gaze flicks downwards, lingering over what the guy's got in his hands for a few seconds.
That is a big-ass gun.
Adam's eyes narrow, but he offer little reaction other than that. No fear, no wariness. For how he acts, one would think that people've got their guns out around him practically all the time.]
Taking your rifle out for a walk? [There's a wry note to his rasp.]
no subject
Apparently this is interesting enough to get him to come to a stop, and he shifts his weight, hefting the rifle at the mention of it.]
Thought it could use some air.
[76 is almost painfully dry when he speaks, but it's supposed to be a joke. Maybe.]
no subject
Masked guys in tactical gear prowling around in the dark with assault weapons at the ready tend to set off a few warning bells in Adam's head. He thinks back to some of his own first encounters with people in these hallways– what could've nearly turned into fights, back then. How might some of those interactions have gone if he'd been someone whose intentions were not-so-good?
Adam eyes the guy, the line of his mouth thinning. He's not going to test that question if he can help it.]
Hope you're not looking for someone. [There's an implied question in his otherwise flat tone – if not, what is it you're trying to do out here?]
no subject
It's not pointed at Adam, at least, but it is at the ready. Just in case.]
Just getting familiar.
[With the layout. The corridors. 76 doesn't expect things to not go south. He wants to be ready.]
no subject
[But while this guy's strategy seems to be hunting around in the dark with a rifle, Adam seems to be stuck on the "suddenly recalling his near-death experiences prior to showing up here" part of familiarizing himself with the ship. Understandably, he's more inclined to favor the option that doesn't leave him feeling like he can't ever get enough air in his lungs again.
Also the option that actually, you know. Gets him exploring.]
If you don't mind my saying, you look like you're expecting something to go wrong. One's a potential target, but– people tend to leave two alone.
[Incidentally, having two means one of them's less likely to go off and shoot someone who doesn't need to be shot, but– that's not exactly the implication Adam's going for here.]
no subject
What he's not sure about is the implication that Adam seems to want to come along. 76 will take a moment to give him a good long once-over, as if he's considering the viability of this proposal.
Eventually, however, he seems to relent.]
Nothing better to do?
no subject
You can only contemplate your own mortality for so long before it starts to get old.
["Long" is about twenty seconds, as far as he's concerned, so he's far exceeded his self-allotted time. And if not the hallways, the only other place he's got to go tonight is back to those hospital-white barracks: not quite the evening he's hoping to have after all this.
The guy's dubiousness isn't hard to pick up on. He folds his arms.] But I know trust is in short supply around here. Not looking to test your limits if that's how it's going to be.
[In other words, he won't force his company. Funny thing about trust, though: as a commodity, it's got to be spent to be earned.]
no subject
[Not that he, you know, contemplates his own mortality, or anything. Pssht.
Dubious as he is, 76 is still tactically-minded, and he recognizes the advantages of a buddy system, even if it's someone he just met, and even if he's still regarding most everything as a threat. If it comes to that, he thinks, he's more than confident in his own abilities to take this guy out.]
Might as well.
[He'll motion with his head for Adam to follow (both of his hands are still on his gun).]
Where have you already been?
no subject
Adam moves to follow, and as he walks over he rolls up the sleeves of his uniform up to the elbows, exposing sleek shells of black polycarbonate that match his hands. It's an almost subconscious response to an annoyance he hadn't realized was there – all the clothing he'd had until today had been specially designed to accommodate his cyberlimbs' other functions. Not so with the Moira standard-issue. Last thing he wants to do is have to deploy a nanoblade for whatever reason and shred one of the only three shirts he owns.
He keeps pace with the guy, arms at his sides. He moves with the telltale confidence of someone who's had training (and moreover: experience.) Probably not unlike 76 himself.]
Navigation, observation decks, cargo– [he says, mouth twisting in a frown] and the barracks, mostly. I can tell you a lot about the cargo bay.
[Maybe the slightest hint of bitterness in his tone there? Dealing with people's confiscated crap all afternoon had quickly gone from (kinda) fun to a real chore.]
no subject
He keeps pace, picking up on that definite bitterness in tone.]
Is that where they assigned you?
no subject
People like him – the augmented – there's a tendency for others to treat them like simple machinery. An expectation that just because they can lift those thousand-pound loads, then that's what they're obligated to do. All his life, he'd tried to help people – and he'd initially done so by joining the police force. Not by carrying boxes around.
He glances around, jerking his head in the guy's direction.] Given what I've heard about other people's assignments, I'm going to assume you weren't much luckier.
no subject
He's not going to judge.]
Windows.
[So, no, he's not that much luckier. 76 says it with something of a halfhearted shrug.]