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RP: Hinomaru Sunrises II Crew Chronicles: Soggy Hole Shenanigans Aboard YSS Mazu (Open!)

Alina found Sithian's warm reaction to her behavior rather unsettling. Granted the separa'shan was a counselor so perhaps this seemed like an intriguing puzzle to him? If that indeed was the case, it would be a puzzle she never intended to let him solve. "That is true. Though perhaps one or both parties does not wish to share. What then Counselor?" The norian's vibrant amethyst hues flicked over to note that Alexei had paused his work to speak with Mazumi and flicked right back to the odd ball in front of her.

His persistence in these matters reflected a few things that she found almost fascinating. His apparent love for the crew's well being and his determination to get to the bottom of things. Whether this was a ploy to worm his way into their trust or genuine care, she did not know nor care. As long as he did not fuss about with their well being she could in fact, not care less what he did. From their folded position in front of her she let her hands flex out flat up on the table, palms down upon its surface. "While I do enjoy a little reverse psychology I do not presume to think it is my place to make judgement on the activities of others. Let alone set voice to such thoughts lest they subconsciously give way to some other insight you may seek." she pondered for a moment more before asking, "Do you intend to integrate actively with the crew or do you intend to linger in the shadows waiting for a need to signal you into its presence?"
 
Mazumi's eyes narrowed as she observed Alexei's audacious actions within her lounge. The connection through the special device in her SPINE interface transmitted the unfolding scene directly to her consciousness. She continued crossing the lounge, her movements deliberate and graceful, and her presence commanding attention. Mazumi maintained her connection to the lounge, ensuring she remained aware of any updates or messages from her virtual domain.

The rhythmic hum of machinery and soft ambient music in her lounge provided a stark contrast to the clattering sounds emanating from the booth. Her waitstaff diligently attended to Separa'shan Sithian and Norian Alina, standing by their side and catching snippets of their conversation. Concern for Mazumi's well-being echoed through the words exchanged between Sithian and Alina, a testament to the camaraderie that had developed among them.

But at this moment, her focus was firmly on Alexei and the turmoil he was causing. As he briefly acknowledged her presence with a mere eyebrow raise, Mazumi's expression remained inscrutable. The words he spoke hung in the air, a stark directive that echoed within the lounge. Mazumi's dark eyes bore into him, and for a moment, there was silence.

Her reaction was subtle, a mere twitch at the corner of her lips and a raised eyebrow mirroring Alexei's earlier gesture. Peeper's continued chirping tried to break through the tension, its turret-like body eager for her attention. Mazumi's gaze, however, remained fixed on Alexei, assessing his actions and the potential consequences.

Unspoken authority emanated from Mazumi as she observed the Iron Company member's every move. The brief moment of communication between them carried a weight, and Mazumi's response was measured, revealing little of her thoughts. The lounge Mistress was not one to be trifled with, and in that charged atmosphere, her silent command was clear—Alexei's actions would not go unnoticed or unchecked.

"Why are you making a mess in my Lounge? This isn't an Engineering room!" Mazumi's voice rang out with a calm but stern authority, cutting through the ambient noise of the lounge. Her almond-shaped eyes bore into Alexei, assessing the situation with a discerning gaze. The table he was occupying, meant for card games and leisure, was now cluttered with the tools of an engineer's hobby, a sight that displeased Mazumi.

The Lounge Mistress, arms crossed over her chest, stood as a paragon of composure amidst the disruption. Her tone carried the weight of someone accustomed to maintaining order within the confines of her establishment. Mazumi's unwavering gaze demanded an explanation, her presence a reminder that this was her domain, not an engineering workshop.

"Iron Company Member, please ensure it is clean before you go," Mazumi declared, her words firm and decisive. The underlying command left no room for negotiation. She expected respect for the sanctity of her lounge, and Alexei was now tasked with rectifying the disruption he had caused.

As her attention shifted downward to Peeper, Mazumi's stern expression softened marginally. The cheerful chirping of the drone seemed almost incongruent with the serious atmosphere she had just established. Nevertheless, Mazumi's gaze lingered on the spinning turret-like body, a testament to the dual nature of her responsibilities—maintaining order in her establishment while also tending to the curious and persistent presence of her technological companions.
 
The 'mess', as it were, was meticulously organized components being set in a manner so he could easily locate it-the HPAR-the weapon he'd been working on, was currently assembled as it were, aside from the exposed capacitor system, and he had yet to do anything to the plasma rifle. "I will not leave a mess for you-I know the value of a clean work area." He retorted, his tone cold and professional; he was not in the mood for a fight, let alone verbal sparing; however should it come to blows, he was more than ready if need be, "As for what I am doing; this machine-" indicating the Pest, "-has required maintenance, particularly in regards to its weaponry for some time; and the juniors always seem to find every excuse not to do so." Their latest had been ensuring that the Half-Tracks had enough headlight fluid. In fact that excuse had worked so well he'd made them not only drain all the various liquids our of one, but disassemble the engine in its entirety, clean it, and then re-assemble it.

They were still working on it when he left-and if he found a single screw out of place...

"And why here? Every attempt I have made thus far has resulted in my attention being urgently needed elsewhere." Given his rank, it wasn't uncommon for something to require his direct attention; though being dragged off because someone couldn't be bothered to change out a sparkplug on something; inventing new and creative ways to keep the Pest from being repaired; while he could understand why it didn't mean that the work would go undone especially if he had something to say about it. Turning back to his work he began reassembling the near-usless rifle; inserting the dead capacitor back in and closing it up. It was aggravating that he did not have the part he needed. "I say again-refrain from touching anything," His deep baritone voice had yet to lose any of that cold professionalism as he set the bulky gun aside and picked up the plasma rifle, and began the process of disassembling it; ancestor's bollocks he hated working on Star Army equipment as he cracked the housing open revealing its guts, "An errant static discharge could damage the electronics if you are not grounded properly." While the 'cloak' did act as a form of static mat and mitigated the chance of it happening; that didn't mean such an instance was beyond the realm of possibility.

He glared at the interior of the weapon-magnetic accelerators, plasma generator-they still weren't sure how it worked; the principals were much different from their own Helstroms-capacitors, charging systems-power coupling for the suits. If it wasn't for the fact it was so damned effective he'd scrap the damned thing and strap one of their own weapon systems onto it. Reports said the weapon's plasma projectiles were destabilizing faster than normal-so perhaps a simple change to the plasma generation system? Either that or the magnetic systems were failing...perhaps it was time for a little company ingenuity. It would either work like a charm...or blow up.

Probably the latter-still would be interesting what he could come up with to get it working again...

Wasn't sure how the SA's M6 Plasma Rifle worked, so I kind of bullshitted it here.
 
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