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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
"Wait those things work two-way? I kind of thought it was just for announcing, not for us to talk to the people in the control room. Or wherever. I assume they do the announcements from the control room," he says scratching the back of his head.
"But with the MIDs why do we even need a PA?" He's more or less just thinking out loud by now, looking up at the ceiling with a mild sense of being lost.
no subject
"I didn't make the system. I just live here. Though you're right about the speakers."
no subject
"Yeah, yeah we all live here. Wait, are you new? They totally stuck some new guy in the control room for this. Sorry dude, they gave you a totally unnecessary job. That thing's not going to help with any kind of safety."
no subject
...oh, this human is off-base? Low-tech world? The voice sounds a little apologetic, but mostly good humored as he continues. "I'm new. But I'm not in the control room." Where's a monitor... there's a monitor! A display panel along the wall flickers into life, starting with a symmetrical blue logo that flickers and glitches to a stable pattern of asymmetry.
"Domesticon system administrator at your service."
no subject
"No." He shakes his head, reaction instantaneous. If he was more the type, he'd punch one of the walls and let the sharp sting of pain clear his mind. "No way. There's no way in hell they put another robot in the walls. This is a joke."
He looks around like he honestly expects someone to pop out and start laughing. "This is a really stupid joke."
no subject
"I'm guessing you're not a fan."
no subject
"What did you mean by interaction protocols? What is the Captain even letting you do?" Peter bristles. "What do you have access to?"
no subject
"My local assignment is 'Workshift Coordinator'. The Captains-- plural, then-- uploaded me into the ship just after processing. I have basic database access and can use the cameras and speakers to communicate in most public areas."
"As for protocols... well." A bit of nuance bleeds back in: quiet irony not quite pointed toward a target. "That'd be the 'prerecorded' voice you were so fond of."
no subject
"And what is the basic database?" Peter continues, frowning as he processes what he's hearing. Public areas he assumes to mean things like the hallways, the mess. He knew they were all being monitored around most of the ship, but he'd assumed it was just the captains watching the footage. He assumed even they only watched what was necessary for trials after how shocked Than seemed to have been over things Peter brought up. But if they now had someone on the job, someone watching everything...
"So what, you can just spy on anything happening around the ship? You can hear me from here. Are you going to be listening in on us? They've taken to spying on us now?"
no subject
"<There are several hundred protocols for the administration of Domesticon warranty and recycling depot #127. On what topic can I be of assistance?>"
Come on, ask about something else. Anything else. Anything that doesn't have him running autoprompts of his whole operating manual.
"Basic access means how it sounds. Crew roster, network archives. Nothing you can't get at with your watch. And I can tap into the camera feeds, but I'm not responsible for any large-scale storage. Or passing them on."
no subject
"How about keeping what you see for yourself? You got any protocols on that?" Peter spits, glaring. "None of the rest of us get to just look in on whatever's happening around here. We don't watch whatever when want from the camera system."
no subject
Might as well try the opposite tactic. "Would you want to?" he offers, voice calm. "The halls are monitored with or without me, but I can share the access if it would be useful. Assuming the guys in charge don't throw an exception."
no subject
Honestly, if he really needed to know something personal about someone Peter knew plenty of psychics. No need to go through the ship's systems.
"No one should be looking at any of it. Not me, or someone in the mess or you or anybody. It's bad enough the captains can watch everything we do but regular crew shouldn't be allowed to either! It's a pretty massive breech of our privacy! And we don't get much of that as it is."
no subject
"I can't change ship protocol. If you've got any specific requests, I can do my best to accommodate, but..."
no subject
"Forget the protocols, it's not right!"