( 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

COMMANDER SHEPARD ★ ota!

[squadgoals]

AROUND THE SHIP

[Shepard Walks and works. After the message comes in, and post-Team Offense meeting, she can be found casing out different parts of the vessel, checking in with the people working on them, and writing up notes. Notwithstanding whether they're a part of her team — the captains may be asking for them to break up to formulate plans, but that has nothing to do with what they need to be doing, now, to defend the ship overall. She'd outlined it in the offense team meeting, and she wasn't someone to renege on responsibilities.

Whenever she finds someone else working on something, or just hanging out, she stops and makes a point of chatting, just to get an idea of where they're at, headspace-wise. What is your character up to when she stops by?]

OH TEAM LEADER MY TEAM LEADER (LOCKED TO CLARA & MILES)

[On the morning of the 25th, Clara and Miles both receive a ping on their MID with a text message from Shepard.]

Miles and Clara,

How's it going with Defense and Negotiations planning? I think it would be a good idea to compare notes, either over text, or in person. Let me know what you have time for.

Best,
Shepard

[Let me know if you'd like something specific, either via PM or nijikai! I'm easy like a ham sandwich.]

[bosswald]

I've been wanting to meet, but haven't been able to find the time just yet. Since I drank enough coffee to ward off sleep for the next twelve hours at least, would you be up for meeting in an hour or so? I've spoken to Miles once already, but think we should all be on the same page with what's going on. I've been hoping we could all come together and propose one cohesive plan, but I'm not sure that's what the captains are looking for.

SLIDES IN HERE LATE....

[forwardmomentum]

Having more than one plan isn't a bad idea -- contingencies are important. But to have three people working separately on those plans, with no coordination, is just asking for disaster. I'm all for a convening of the minds, and all the better if it's in person.

I've got a private room/office on J deck -- it's not glamorous, but it would give us a quiet place to think. How's that sound?

HEY GIRLS

[squadgoals]

Good to see we're all on the same page, caffeine-wise.

An hour out works for me. I'll wrap up what I'm doing here and head to Miles' office. See you both there.

[bosswald]

See you there in an hour. I'll bring coffee with me.

[forwardmomentum]

[ when miles lets them in, he's mostly cleared the desk for the coffee clara promised. he only has the one chair, so the bed that folds into the wall is pulled out for extra seating, though miles remains on his feet for now. there's a couple of liquor bottles on the desk against the wall, a deep red wine and a bottle of something bright green. miles waves them inside with a flippant little half-bow, eyeing the coffee. ]

You know, I think providing caffeine in times of trial might qualify you for sainthood. Please, ladies, take a seat where you like.

[squadgoals]

[Shep's through the door first, and produces a plate of the ever-present ship's muffins, in a variety of flavors.]

To go with the coffee. I wasn't sure what side of the raisin fence you two fell on, so I brought some with and without.

[She puts the muffins to the side of the cleared space, but doesn't move to sit down, herself.]

[bosswald]

I haven't eaten since yesterday, so I'll take anything. Regardless of raisins.

[Laughing a little, she does move to sit down, so she can pull mugs out of seemingly nowhere to pour them all some coffee. A sugar bowl comes out of nowhere next, and some cream, and so they don't think she's pulling things out of her ass she moves to place a red satchel bag up on the desk.

And then proceeds to start eating a muffin.]

Please tell me the two of you have been better about taking care of yourselves.

[squadgoals]

Sure. I'm still alive, aren't I? [THAT'S GOOD CARETAKING!

She pulls a cup of coffee towards her on the desk, bypassing both the sugar and cream, and picks it up, taking a sip.]

Miles? Have you been getting your proper eight hours of rest?

are you ready to Run Some Tests

[skelepun]

Yo, Captain Crunch.

[Sans isn't accustomed to yelling, but his usual easy quiet manages to raise a few descibles as he calls down the hall. One hand, stuffed into his pocket like normal. The other? Holding a device that looks like the sick lovechild between a walkie talkie and a staple gun.

They were short on time. Aesthetics weren't a top priority.]

I got a present for ya.

I Am So Ready

[squadgoals]

[On the way between two different places, Shepard makes quite the picture: strange mug of coffee in one hand, two datapads in another, half a cruller sticking out of her mouth. At the sound of Sans' voice, she seems to freeze, head swinging in his direction.

There's a muffled sound as she shifts the pads under an arm, slams the rest of the cruller, and sips the coffee. After a lot moment, she swallows, and smiles brightly at Sans. Sup nerd.]

And it isn't even my birthday.

That the device you were talking about?

[skelepun]

[Well someone's been burning the midnight oil. Maybe literally. He's a little too short to see into that coffee cup, and like hell would he put it past her.

He flashes her a quick wave. 'Sup, meathead.]

In the flesh. So t'speak. [He turns it over in his hands, shrugging.] Just one problem. We're having some issues with testing.

[squadgoals]

[Taking in the gadget with fresh eyes, her eyebrows do a dance of confusion for a hot half-second. It looks duct-taped together — it is duct-taped together. Well, they weren't trying to design awards the C-Ps.]

What kind of issues? Is it not pulling the readings accurately?

[skelepun]

More like we can't find something to test it on. [Sans shrugs, grinning. The poor thing was a peak of monster ingenuity -- built fast and with mostly scrap parts. They were good at that, at the very least.] I mean, there's flying outside the ship, that's the end game.

But before we go through all that trouble... [Well, he says we. He means, of course, other people. Much more energetic people.] I kinda wanna get an idea of how accurate the thing is on a smaller scale.

[squadgoals]

Right. Transporters are one thing, but we can't exactly fly them inside the ship. We need a way to trial it without wasting our push through the lockdown.

[She takes another sip of coffee, swirling it in the mug. What could they use? A drone? There was other vehicles in the hold, but nothing that really flew. There was plenty of crew who could move fast enough, but they wanted mechanical data.]

What we really need--[But she stops dead in the middle of the sentence, as if muted. Eyes widening, she slowly grins, looking straight at Sans. There's a certain gleam in her eye.]

I've got an idea.

[skelepun]

[As a general rule, Commander Shepard with that look in her eye was never a good thing.

It was a great thing.

Sans stares back at her a few moments, cogs working to match that particular expression to the already vast collection of faces she's made in his presence since their first meeting.

Turns out, this one spelled out one word. Four letters. M-A-K-O.

Sans' grin grew wider reflexively.]

Awright, Cap, but you're drivin'.

[squadgoals]

Ha! Like I'd let anyone else touch it!

[She's already in motion as she speaks, knocking back the remainder of her coffee as she strides down the hall towards the cargo bay.]

We can test in a few different areas. The hallways are just comfortably wide enough — I took a measurement last time I was down there. [beat;] Out of curiosity.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[J had hurried to the bar right after recovering from being thrown down on the floor by the ship's sudden inclination, worried about safety of the glasses and bottles. She and Miles had gathered so many new spirits from the Collective that they hadn't had time to stock them properly. And unfortunately, very much to her disappointment (and to her annoyance), her fears had turned out to be completely accurate.

So, when Shepard passes by the bar next time she can find J kneeling down on the floor, picking up the glass shards. The beautiful white dress that she's wearing is full of different colored stains, no doubt caused by the liquid's she's cleaned off the floor. Her skin is slightly pale but other than she's looking quite good, lips painted red and hair (that is now almost white) combed and styled neatly.]

[squadgoals]

[At the absence of a tender (or anyone, really) behind the bar, Shep leans over the counter, instead. The scene is one of a drinker's worst nightmare: broken bottles, glass, and wasted potential strewn across the floor, with J in the middle, picking it up bare-handed. She purses her lips, and starts making her way around.]

Woah, woah, hold on. I don't want to tell you how to do your job, but we've got a pretty powerful vacuum for this. Only pick up the biggest pieces — those glass shards can be microscopic, and hurt like hell if they slip into your skin.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[When she hears the footsteps moving closer, coming to the other side of the counter, J looks up from the floor to meet Shepard's eyes. It's not been that long from the last time she's seen her, after all Shepard is one of the regulars at the bar, but they haven't had really time to 'talk' since their drunken encounter in her room.

She cocks her head to the side a little and gives her a long face as answer to her pursed lips and raises a big shard from the floor, holding it between her long and sharp finger nails.

Do you think she's stupid?]

[squadgoals]

[At the face, she holds up her hands, palms flat, in front of her body, and smiles.]

Okay, okay. But let me help. What kind of a regular would I be if I didn't assist my favorite bartender in her hour of need?

How about I finish picking up the rest of this, mop it up a little, and you get the vacuum? About time I started earning my keep around here.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[Well, that response seems to please J as her hard expression softens a little and turns more satisfied one. She stands up and drops the shard in the plastic box she had pulled next to her for the broken glass. She quickly dusts her knees, a brief frown quickly visiting her face as she sees the stains on the hem. Then, she looks back to Shepard and moves to the side while gesturing down on the floor with her hand.

Be her guest.]

[squadgoals]

[Shep pulls a salute at J, and smiles, moving in to pick up the glass. A heavy skin weave was the perfect advantage, making scooping up the larger glass shards easy. No way to cut her skin, no problem.

She's already sweeping up the last of the shards, bar cloth in hand, when J gets back with the vacuum, and she points out the trouble spots.]

There, and there. I gathered up some of the smaller glass bits in a pile over there, too. I think I got most of the spillage, but I'd just throw the cloth out.

[gentlemenpreferblondes]

[J looks at the pointed spots on the floor and puts the vacuum cleaner she's holding down on the floor, lifts her hem a little and gives Shepard a mock-curtsy like a maid would, wide grin playing on her lips.

She starts the vacuum with her feet and picks up the hose and cleaning the spots, making sure to go through each corner and small slots. After getting done J bows down to Shepard, this time much deeper than the last time.

There you go, madam.]

[squadgoals]

[As J vacuums, Shepard stands aside, stepping out of the way when needed, and giving other spots a final clean.

When everything is done and dusted, she exhales sharply through her nose, a deeply amused sound.]

Were you born sarcastic, or did it develop naturally as you grew?