I
N
T
R
O
L
O
G
|
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?
|
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hownkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2016-08-01 12:13 am
no subject
He doesn't move though. Not even an inch. Ratchet is going to have to do more than yell to get him off the berth. But he doesn't argue, he just ignores demand all together.
no subject
So it's only a little bit of effort to grip the long side of the berth, brace with his knees, and lift, tilting it on two feet until the surface is almost vertical to dump Starscream off into a heap on the floor.
no subject
Still on the floor, he raises a hand and points at Ratchet's general direction.
"You could have asked nicely you know."
no subject
Ratchet drops the berth onto the floor with a clang, looking satisfied.
"I already gave you space in this room, which is not your assigned quarters, and if you're that fussed about it you can go back to living with Tarn."
no subject
"Bah. Fine."
He throws up his hands in defeat and goes back to the other side of the room where he belongs. And poke his fish or something.
no subject
Ratchet flops back onto his slab with a serene look on his face and vents a rattling sigh. He's not stupid enough to do something as dangerous as go to sleep right after he dumped Starscream on the floor, and anyway, he's been sleeping for a week. He does pull out a datapad to read, settling back comfortably and letting Starscream do... whatever it is he does, as long as he's not doing it on Ratchet's bed.
no subject
With Ratchet laying down, Starscream glances over his shoulder at him. The room is too quiet and this makes the seeker bored. And a bored Starscream is never a good thing. He's not allowed to touch Ratchet's stuff without being yelled at so he might as well do the next best thing and just bother him.
"What are you reading?" Starscream asks while wandering back over and invading Ratchet's personal space to try and see what's on the datapad.
no subject
"Medical data." He folds the datapad down against his windscreen. "Medical data that I collected in confidence,, that nobody else is permitted to look at for confidentiality reasons."
no subject
Not that Starscream really wanted or cared to look at something so boring as Medical data.
But then again he was also curious about the differences between Cybertronians from his universe and Cybertronians from Ratchet. Damn those scientific instincts.
no subject
Ratchet narrows his optics.
"Also, and this may come as a crushing blow, but I would trust you a considerably shorter distance than I could throw you with anything even vaguely resembling a secret."
no subject
Starscream can't hide the level of sarcasm just dripping from his words. A puddle might be forming on the floor from all of it.
But that doesn't stop him from shoving his arm in front of Ratchet.
"Do you guys have these?"
A little computer screen flips out from his arm, it displays light statistical medical data. Vitals, spark pulse, things like that.
no subject
no subject
He stands back, straightening up.
"Theres are so many things from your universe that are different and then some that are so similar. I wonder how vast the possibilities extend. Do the schematic or biological variances make your job difficult?"
no subject
"There are variables, but they get easier to put into patterns when you've been digging through plating as long as I have. A lot of times I can just look at a mech or see them walk or transform and be able to tell what's wrong. It's not so hard once you know what to look for."
no subject
Starscream already knew what he'd do because it happened and it didn't work. Not the way he intended at least. The result was messy and not something he wanted to deal with again. He went wrong somewhere and while he wouldn't openly admit it, maybe getting a second opinion on the best course of action to take was a good idea.
no subject
"My job is to fix people, not murder them. You should talk to your counterpart, for that."
no subject
Honestly Starscream does not know how to say 'I did something and I'm pretty sure I screwed up' like a normal person so why not talk about murder.
no subject