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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
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He really hopes she's not a---fling. Cause, boy, that would be awkward. ]
I'm sorry you caught me a little off-guard. Do I know you?
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...but he doesn't remember her. Despite all of her experience with the four Dean Winchesters...it still hits her in a funny way...]
I...
Yes. I mean. We knew each other. In...Zelien?
Water monsters? And...COMPASS project heads?
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I'm sorry, I don't know what Zelien is. Is that a place or---yeah, you definitely lost me at water monsters.
But how about we try this again for me? You obviously know me, so who do I have the pleasure of speaking to?
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A suit of jaded armor.]
Fatima Merali. I met...another...you. In a multiversal prison called Zelien. We were test subjects for an organization called COMPASS which was conducting experiments in fear.
...I know how that sounds.
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Nice to meet you, Fatima. I'm sorry you met this--- other me under those kinds of circumstances.
[ A rueful little chuckle. ] Trust me, it isn't the craziest thing I've ever heard.
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Sometimes, the only line of defense.]
The, uh, circumstances were less than ideal, I'll grant you that. But I can't complain that much about the company.
[Except for Dean. Dean can burn and die in a fire.]
Actually, you and I were instrumental in taking out one of the COMPASS project heads. If you're anything like that...other you...I'm pretty sure I'm in good company now.
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Good to know the company was still good, even if the situation wasn't. [ He grins when he says it, head titled a bit to the side. ]
Were we? Well, good to know this other me wasn't sitting on his hands. Can't imagine one who would. Seeing as I've already got someone to live up to, I'll try not to disappoint you.
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Don't worry. I've learned the hard way never to hold someone up to their multiversal sibling. Believe me. Things can get very messy if you have expectations.
It sometimes ends with you nearly being lit on fire. Literally.
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Sometimes it's hard not to. [ There are still times he wonders if the other him would be doing something differently in the prime universe. How would he be avoiding the shadows and terror that seem to creep up on all of them? Upon his ship and his crew that has become his family?
But that smile turns into a look of worry and mild horror when she mentions that. ]
Excuse me, what?
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[Her nonchalance about the whole thing is only partly practiced. After going through four versions of Dean, she's begun to be a little exhausted by the whole multiverse.]
Don't worry about it. It wasn't you.
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[ Jim doesn't blame her for trying. He feels much the same way about ill feelings between the Federation and the Klingons, and also Section 31's ability to show up out of the blue. It's exhausting.
Then it starts to blur and seem like just another day. ]
Oh, good. I'd like to think I know me a little better than that.
no subject
With an absent smile, she sets down her crate, pulling off the lid to reveal rows and rows of strawberries, bright and shining and red, like Chinese bells.]
Don't worry. Your reputation is sterling with me.
Strawberry?
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Glad to hear it.
[ He cants his head but doesn't take one yet. ] Did you grow these aboard ship?
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I've started a hydroponics pilot. Don't worry, they're not an alien equivalent, they're the real thing. I brought the seeds over with me when I was...picked up.
Go ahead. Help yourself.
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Picked up is a nice way of putting it. [ Usually he wouldn't, but---well. Fine, ok. He takes one, and offers a grin. ]
Thank you. I wouldn't mind seeing that garden sometime if you didn't mind showing me. We have a small one on my ship back home, but I haven't seen anything bigger than that in a while.
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[It's her pride and joy, really. And showing off is something that she loves a bit too much.
There's got to be some kind of extra points for showing off to a spaceship captain. On a spaceship.
Especially one with such pretty eyes.]
Back where I come from, we have a series of fruit, herb, and vegetable gardens. They were planted by my ancestors going back about...I guess ten generations.
The captains here originally had me working as a field medic.
[And she makes a face to express just how much she loved that.]
I requested a switch. And we stopped by a planet that had...all the supplies we needed, really.
no subject
Ten generations? That's amazing. [ Jim grins as he says it, it's incredibly impressive. ] Seriously, they had you as a field medic with experience like that?
[ That'd be like him putting Sulu in charge of Medical. He would never do it, even if they all get basic training in the Academy. ]
I'd be upset too, if I'd been you, but you've got this now. How long have you been at it?
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[She plucks a ripe strawberry from the crate, carefully folding back the leaves around the stem.]
I did some gardening in Zelien too, although that was in a decidedly unofficial and unsanctioned way.
[But the alternative had been starving to death, so Fatima had had precious few fucks to give.
She nips the top of the strawberry, satisfied by the flavor.]
What do they have you doing here?
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[ Jim would know something about that, both things, but it isn't the sort of thing he mentions off the cuff to strangers who maybe aren't the most strange since they met another him. ]
Outside of suffering for their humor? I'm the Interpersonal Relationships Officer.
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[Both of her eyebrows shoot up at that.]
So you're the intergalactic equivalent of an HR department?
[Yeah, that sounds horrible.]
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More or less.
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[The captains have a particularly sick sense of humor...]
Maybe it's a test of character?
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[ Okay, no, there goes that groan of frustration. ]
I'm getting a little tired of those, honestly.
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You and me both.
But believe me when I say that however annoying our current accommodations are, they could be considerably worse.
Might as well go with it until the other shoe falls.