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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
When the sound becomes more concentrated, he wheels around, looking like he's going to smash the butt of his rifle through the computer screen unless he gets an explanation in about half a second. Maybe it's better than opening fire in such a contained space? But probably only a little.]
Where are you?
[What are you is likely the better question.]
no subject
I'm in the ship.
[It's not really a lie. The words come quickly, but the AI keeps his voice calm and even, with only the slightest rush of stress.]
Just uploaded today. The local powers-that-be gave me this room assignment-- nice thought, if a little redundant.
no subject
You're AI.
[He says that less like a realization and more matter-of-factly, taking a slow, cautious step towards the computer terminal.]
no subject
That I am. Domesticon system administrator, at your service.
no subject
What are you meant to do?
[Maybe that's rude? he doesn't seem to particularly care.]
no subject
The screen shows a black and white text prompt, currently displaying a few warnings and a menu:]
Domesticon recalibration depot #127: mainframe primary access panel. Do not utilize this terminal if you do not have override clearance.
System notice: Some internal data has been expunged.
System notice: basic system controls are [OFFLINE].
>Life Support and Temperature Control
>Electrical
>Personnel Data
>Testing Parameters
>Quit
[...things the mainframe would prefer his new roommate stay clear of? All of that. Unfortunately, like so much else, it's not a matter of choice. And if most of the ship's occupants have been unusually welcoming, this is feeling much closer to home.]
<Your Domesticon system administrator is designed to handle all test protocol and digital maintenance for its facility. In the absence of a human superior, it can assist customers directly to provide services or call a droid better suited to the task.>
[Back to the cheerful robotic monotone. It's still coming from the ceiling, but the connection likely isn't hard to make.]
no subject
Nothing on the display is particularly comforting, and his fingers hover over the keys, thinking for a long moment that if he really wanted to, he might be able to shut this thing down. If it's watching everything that happens in this room, 76 thinks maybe it might be for the best if he did so.
But then he sees that override clearance is needed, so he thinks better of it. Shouldn't mess with something that might go haywire if he inputs the wrong thing. He'll err on the side of not making it worse, tilting his head slightly when the AI answer his question.]
What're you doing here, then? What kind of services are we talking?
no subject
Shut down. Comply. He knows every test, every protocol. But he's never been subject to them, not like this. When his facility was occupied, he was too well-maintained to care.]
Whatever you need.
[The more human voice is back, if nearly as tonelessly subdued.]
If reception or medical were unmanned, I could run the equipment. Otherwise, returns and validations. <Domesticon warranty and recycling depot #127: Keeping your Domesticon products efficient, so you don't have to be.>
[Also logging employee data and running the tests. But somehow, he doesn't think this human's looking for a resume.]
I was told some kind of portal pulled me here.
[Just like you, he doesn't say.]
no subject
Yeah, you and me both.
[76 lets out an exasperated sigh into his mask.]
Are you stuck in that terminal?
[And the room, by extension.]
no subject
Better than an ending.]
No. [Like he said...] The captains here had my code uploaded to the Moira's systems. [A beat.] It's basic access, but enough to get around.
no subject
Hearing that he's uploaded into the systems and can, apparently, 'get around', however, gives him an idea.]
Can you check something for me?
no subject
...that's not the response he'd been expecting, though. Count the mainframe curious. And wary. But curious!]
If it's not outside my functions, sure. What do you need?
no subject
Ship have a surveillance system? Do you know where the cameras are?
no subject
What are you after?
[Please not a camera smashing spree. Somebody in the room needs those for seeing.]
no subject
Blind spots.
[Not that, you know, he's planning to go cause trouble, but 76 is still waiting for the other shoe to drop as far as the new regime is concerned. Knowing how to get out of their way is just smart.]
no subject
[There's a pause. If this is some kind of test... but no, that surprise was real. Carefully:]
I don't have access to much outside the public spaces. But I can take a look around.
no subject
Appreciate it.
[Even if he feels a little weird talking this way to a computer.]
Not looking to cause trouble. [Just in case it has any qualms.] Just want to cover my bases.
no subject
The voice warms slightly.]
No problem. Mind if I ask a question?
no subject
Depends on the question.
[That's his way of letting the mainframe know that he reserves the right to not answer if he finds the question objectionable.]
Shoot.
no subject
Any chance I could get your name?
...Not that "Tall, Terse, and Trigger-Happy" doesn't scan, but...
[He probably shouldn't have said that part aloud.]
no subject
[He says that with no small amount of detachment, going back to the pieces of his gun. That's it. That's his name. It's on his jacket and everything.]
no subject
Does it mean anything?
[The levity's gone.]
no subject
[The fact that there was levity in the first place gives him pause. This is clearly a computer with simulated emotions, and even a sense of humor. It's not, of course, out of the question, but always a little unsettling nonetheless.
As for his name--if he can even refer to it as such--he doesn't give it much thought. It's something the media slapped on him after his first few stunts, and it's functional enough.]
It's what people call me.
no subject
...still, even the mainframe knows better than to keep pushing on some topics. Besides, people? Hard to pass that option up.]
Okay.
Nice to meet you, 76.
no subject
For now, that doesn’t seem to be the case, but 76 is generally bad with introductions, merely grunting affirmatively in response. He hasn’t decided if it’s nice to meet this thing yet, mostly because it’s not at all nice to be here.
Nothing personal, of course.]
(no subject)