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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
i.
[He looks familiar. You know, despite pretty damn sure she hasn't seen anybody who looked like him before. Maybe once in New Reno? But not something that'd stick out, so if she did, it got lost in the booze on the way out. But it's that hat, looks just like one she'd scavenged off... probably a merc, a raider or both, and the arm, that's got all kinds of gears in it, like something out of Old Vegas, less shiny and chrome but metal and working and that's just about good enough.
So, he'll find himself faced with a girl wearing a red beret that's done absolutely nothing to help those wire curls from going all over the place, striding up to him without skipping a beat. If he looks close enough, or hell, got a robot eye that does the looking for him, she's got scars on her forehead, two of 'em, something like a burn. She's wearing the plaid she came here with on, and there's a flag with a two headed bear on it stitched into her bag. Says New California Republic on it, 'cept with all raised letters.]
Coulda sworn I had some packs lurking at the bottom of this thing. [Rummaging goes here. Turns up empty not much longer.] The whole place's been cleaned out! Crap. [Now she looks a bit sheepish.] Sorry 'bout that. I've got... used to have way more stuff, where the hell'd it go? [Focus, Surely, focus.] Uh, got some magazines, I guess? Could light a fire with that, right?
no subject
[ He observes this girl for a minute, taking in the eye, the scars, the way she speaks and moves. She's quick; energetic. And--he can already tell by the look on her face--probably guileless. He smiles at her, shaking his head slightly. ]
Don't worry none, sweetheart. 'Sides, they left my lighter well enough alone. Problem is, I ain't got nothin' to use it on.
[ He shrugs amiably, as though it's not such a big deal. ]
But I'll get along somehow. Just glad that portal didn't swallow up my gun.
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[There goes that complete lack of guile, running all over the place. Smoking ain't her vice of choice (that'd be murderizing some assholes), but eh, she knows how it goes, and she's not about to get all grudgy about that kind of thing. Speaking of murderizing, though, did he just say somethin' bout a gun...]
Yeah, damn thing snagged my bobby pins on the way in. How was I supposed to do any sneakin' around without 'em? [Still pretty frustrated about the whole thing, but, well, she's got more than enough loaned out to make up for that initial lack. Attention goes back to the gun before long, though, and the shiny stuff hanging around nearby.]
Huh. Kinda... glowy lookin'. It the kind with the lasers?
no subject
[ What with most things being done by credits these days, and his cash not on his person, either. Also, he expects, probably no good on this ship regardless. He sighs--at the situation, not her--as he draws Peacekeeper from its holster. ]
Naw. Good old-fashioned bullets, accurate as anythin'.
[ He taps his belt, strung with spares. But, hold on a tic. ]
So, sneaking, huh? That your job where you from?
[ And what do bobby pins got to do with it? ]
no subject
I got some caps, but I dunno what that's gonna get you.
[She knows there's some reason caps work back home, something to do with water and supply, but she can't really explain any of it. It's just something you feel like you're born knowing, like how to fire a gun and not to feed the yao guai.
Bullets, they're pretty much the same anywhere, and she's awful glad she's found herself another practitioner of the art.] Pain in the ass finding any out here. Been runnin' low on .308 for awhile on account of a whole lot of bullshit that's been goin' on lately.
[She grins, wide as the brim of a hat.]
Used to be a courier. Y'know, delivered the mail. The sneakin' helped around with that, and the bobby pins helped with the sneaking.
no subject
But he's still stuck on a few things. ]
You're gonna have to break that last bit down for me, darlin'. How do the bobby pins figure in?
no subject
Ain't you ever picked a lock?
You just jimmy them around 'til it opens. [Ain't that how it works everywhere?]
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It surely is, but I ain't ever met a mailman who's got to break in a place to make deliveries.
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[She doesn't even really feel... what's the word, guilty. Nah, not like that. She's just not sure how else this is supposed to work.]
Well, I gotta. Can't just leave the good stuff lying around.
no subject
[ He hooks his thumbs on his belt, leans forward a bit. ]
Kinda sounds like your real line of work was thievin'.
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[:D]
Well. And a bit of thievin', sometimes. But only when they've got something really good on 'em.
no subject
That's a real sweet term for it.
[ Jesse shakes his head, wags one of his metal fingers. It's a show, and clearly not serious. ]
If we were back where I'm from, I might've had to haul you in. But since we're up in space and God only knows, I reckon I can let it slide. Provided you don't plan to keep on prospectin' while you're here.
no subject
[Damn, she should've thought of that. If he were more of a hardass about this kinda thing, she'd probably break into his room later just to show him, but, well, she knows how it goes. Gotta have some kinda law 'round here, and anyway, it ain't like she actually got caught doin' anything.]
Nah, you don't gotta worry 'bout that. Not too much stuff worth stealin' round here, anyway. [She's got some kinda standards, even if she probably couldn't tell you what they were.]
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No, no. Ain't no lawman, me.
[ He taps Peacekeeper. ]
But I am a bounty hunter. Or, I was. Guess it don't mean much in this place.
no subject
[Did a bit of that kinda work with the NCR every now and then. Not her kinda thing, but knocking off a few scumbags, well, sometimes the pay's just the excuse.]
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Sanitation. Handlin' the garbage and so forth.
[ A shrug. ]
Ain't glamorous, but sure as hell someone's got to do it, right?