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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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hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
no subject
[But as mentally exhausted as he is, that doesn't end up nearly as convincing as he'd like it to be. Normally he wouldn't even bother trying, but– he can see that Lúcio is. Why keep pushing people away if it just ended up getting him killed – again – anyway?
He nods, as if to convince himself of something.] Yeah. Why not?
[At the very least, it'd be a much-needed change of scenery.]
no subject
There's a bar there, too.
[he just wasn't sure if that was a good thing to immediately leap to.]
And it's not far! Double whammy.
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DJ, medic, and mind reader. Got any more talents I need to know about?
no subject
he doens't, though.]
That's something to find out, huh? C'mon. I think I need something cool inside me. You think they have those ice cubes shaped like spheres? I love those.
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Adam acquiesces, the prospect of a pick-me-up too appealing to ignore. But while Lúcio's thinking something cool and icy, what he's got in mind goes down burning. He lets him lead the way onwards.]
Even if they don't, I'm sure we can figure something out between the two of us. [His tone is, unsurprisingly, deadpan.] Didn't come this far to be stumped by ice cubes.
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[he continues skating along, doing a good job of hiding he's not actually 100% sure where he's going. maybe he should've got a map...]
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[There's... Astronaut ice cream, isn't there? All of this is a little outside his area of expertise.
He just watches Lúcio skate around – that gear of his is as interesting as it had been the first time he saw him.] You get around pretty well. Remind me to trade out mine for what you've got, sometime.
no subject
[he flips around so he's facing adam and skating backwards, still expertly weaving around anything that might be in the way.]
Might be hard to find, man. These were custom made for me. I think your legs are a little long to try 'em on, too.
no subject
I certainly didn't make 'em that way.
[It might not even come off as a joke, if not for his arms – exposed to the elbow where the sleeves of his uniform are rolled up, the black polycarbonate of their outer shells gleaming in what little light there is. It's not a huge leap of logic to assume his legs might match.]
no subject
[it clicks with lúcio that that probably means they weren't replaced by choice. that happens sometimes - people hurt in the line of duty and if they're lucky enough they get prosthetics. other times they get their arms hacked off to fit their line of work.
lúcio despises vishkar, but he does feel some sympathy for the hard light technicians. sometimes he wonders if they even agreed to it all.]
Um. 'Least they fit! Look at you, so tall...
[sweats...]
no subject
This embarassed attempt to save face is different, though, and suddenly Adam regrets even saying anything. He just kind of gestures as placatingly as he can with a wave of one hand – "don't worry about it."]
If your first thought was to comment on my height, you're fine. [A long pause. At length, he finally adds:] Where I'm from, people tend to have stronger opinions about them.
[The remark's meant to reassure Lúcio – it's the whole point of it, really – but despite himself, a hint of bitterness creeps into his tone.]
no subject
People always find something to kick up a fuss about. [ironic, considering lúcio is usually one of those people, but he's upset by the idea of people hating others for replacing limbs by choice or because they needed to.] I don't think it'll be the same here. There are bigger problems than judging someone based on cosmetics.
no subject
He's certainly not complaining – it's a wonder not to have to witness any of the conflicts he's used to seeing (or to have to deal with their aftermaths) – but it's been a strange adjustment to make. Like the background noise of his life has abruptly, noticeably gone silent.]
"Bigger problems." Like water, energy, rations, personnel, our abrupt change of management, and the monster we've got in the hold? [There's unmistakable irony in his voice. That just about cover all their bases?]
no subject
A what in the hold?
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That reaction earns him an honest look of surprise, and both arched brows.] The crewman, Ploiatos. One of the originals, before any of us. Attacked a bunch of the crew, and pretty recently too, from the sounds of it.
The new captain talked about it in that announcement– didn't you see? [He indicates, with a lift and a shake of one hand, the MID encircling his wrist.]
no subject
[he lifts his wrist up, fiddling with the MID and muttering to himself.]
I'm gonna have to check this out later. [his tone is a little harder than it was before.] That's horrific.
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[The idea of a trusted friend and coworker suddenly losing his wits, lashing out at everyone around him– it's uncomfortably familiar territory for him. Maybe that's why this suspicion of his – that there's more to this Ploiatos business than a guy that just turned out to be a bad egg – is so powerful. This suspicion (fear?) that there might be a Darrow in this world too, pulling the strings–
Adam shakes his head and sidesteps Lúcio, walking past him. Keep moving, keep talking.]
Before you get any ideas– I don't think it's the kind of sickness that you can cure. [He says, about as gently as his voice is capable of sounding.]
no subject
I wasn't--
[don't fool yourself, lúcio. you were. he sighs.]
...yeah, it makes you worry, you know? If that's the sort of thing they make public. What are they hiding?
[he's not naive enough to believe the captains are being 100% honest.]
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I do know. [Firmly, honestly.] Everyone's got secrets. You can be sure that the higher up we go, the more of a reason there is that they being kept secret.
You never know, could be for the "right" reasons. [He says, quotes audible in his tone.] But in my experience, that kind of thinking's almost always misguided.
[Doesn't say what he's going to do about it, though. As far as he knows, the ship's still everyone's ticket back to their home worlds – any kind of investigation into the people setting their course has to be handled carefully, probably with more care than he's gotten used to handling things.]