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RP (INDOMITABLE) Session 0: Tuning Fork

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Krusher99

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In the year AR 942, Miss-fits and rouges are gathering aboard a ship to leave their mark on history, and as another day dawns in the inky black, over the INDOMITABLE's PA system comes the steady whine of a panharmonica, signaling the begining of the day.
 
Aden awakened and wondered, not for the first time, if he made the right decision. As he arised and performed his morning ritual of showering, shaving, and brushing of teeth he wondered what might've been had he stayed in the navy. Sure that outpost was less than optimal but maybe it would've led to greater things. He put on his standard uniform, the recognizable green military fatigues of the Nepleslian navy, and thought that, "No my decision was correct. I would've ended up stuck on some other backwater planet. No, this is the start I need". Aden strapped on his holster with his revolver, checked himself once over in the mirror, and reported to the bridge of the Indomitable for debrief.
 
Upon hearing the PA system, Aureil had sat up in shock. She looked before her on top of a metallic workbench to see a mangled mess of a machine with metal plates, circuitry, and wires jutting out in all directions. Unrecognizable from it's original form, yet still a machine that was a complete foreign object to her. A mystery deemed worthy of solving later upon realizing that Aureil herself had not slept in the past cycle, and In a tired whisper, Aureil sang an old tune from her youth while suppressing a yawn.

"Ipsum sine... somniantis est, supputare."

In response to her words, her right hand trembled slightly as the angle grinder she held in it turned into a small wave of machines and displaced themselves into the handle that remained in her hand. Aureil gently set it, the vial, down on the workbench before her, followed by her brown utility gloves, and then topped by the face shield she had worn only to clumsily pick herself up into a stand. Her Orange jumpsuit, she noticed, was adorned by many minuscule metal shards that had shaded the jumpsuit into a dark gray color. With a simple pat, Aureil was able to shake off most of the metal off her suit, but also noticed the that she herself was coated in layer of grime and sweat. Rubbing her eyes, she looked around observing the pigsty in her vicinity. Pieces of machinery laid scattered about everywhere crowned with cloths hanging from them. She would not deal with that now, she decided as she walked over her clothes and potentially hazardous obstacles alike.

Her routine already ruined, Aureil decided to cut a few corners this day and rubbed the bacteria off her teeth with a random piece of cloth and drowned what remained with a sanitizing mouthwash, leaving behind a burning sensation on her tongue. For her body, Aureil decided that a new set of clothes was definitely needed and reached for her favorite outfit that she....

"Oh, right... heh, I can't wear that anymore can I?" Spoke Aueril bitterly, moving her hand away from the neatly folded Elysian outfit to instead pick up a black Yamatain styled long sleeved shirt, violet pants, and a brown jacket off the ground.

Her stomach rumbled a little and it was her queue to chin up to find something to keep her going for another cycle without sleep, preferably loaded with something sweet. Aureil now ready to leave, had just been hit with an idea. Did she have to meet the captain today? Better to be safe than sorry she guessed.

"Well... either way if I do or don't I could still ask the fellow for a drink to schmooze about the ship... or about the fellow's love life!." She smiled to herself, and promising to clean up her act the next day cycle, Aureil left for the bridge.
 
The day just beginning, the skeleton crew of the indomitable reports to the briefing room. What the indomitable called a briefing room, MOST captains would call a galley. But not the man sitting with his feet propped up on the table.

A wiry little iro, captain of a ship with no crew of any repute, not enough fuel to jump a quadrant and terribly stale rations.

As the crew enters they're noses are assaulted by the aroma of several herbs and spices and a multitude of swearing from the kitchen.

The captain, noticing the crew filing in, ends his little tune on a somber note. I'm direct contrast to the note just seconds before leaving his instrument, captain Mort, exclaims good morning, so, how'd you guys sleep?
 
Swearing from the kitchen. As if.

Izual Katos, master chef who definitely didn't have a past in espionage, did not swear. He made eloquent and indisputably true observations about the nature of reality and the passage of time around him. That sometimes such observations required, in the name of accuracy and credibility, the most creative and uncouth string of profanities ever uttered in a mashed up blend of Yamataigo, Trade, Seraphim, and every other bit of vocabulary Izual had picked up in a long career? Mere happenstance. He did not swear.

...all of which came to a head with Izual's own entrance into the galley, bearing haphazardly a bubbling pot of something. It smelled utterly sublime, spicy and peppery and savory, but looked rather suspicious, as though perhaps it was a porridge-stew made of the cheapest off-brand protein condensate money could ostensibly be traded for, jazzed up with whatever mix of things Izual had managed to scrounge up on the salary of nothing (divided by nothing, carry the nothing...) he'd lived on for the past several months.

He slid the pot onto the table with a bow, flourishing and stretching wide his wings as he did so.

"In fact, oh Captain, I did not sleep - but it is a small matter. A meal is served. Perhaps you have come across an individual willing to exchange currency for our most expert services. Yes?"
 
Smacked plainly by the awesome smell of food, Aureil was awakened as saliva flooded her mouth, and her stomach grumbled with anticipation as she wobbled into the Galley, the briefing room, or whatever anyone wanted to call it. Seeing as people were already waiting for her to arrive, Aureil decided to greet them all with the little, horrible, and broken Trade that she knew in the most exaggerated way she knew.

"Ey! Waz happenen Capn'n? Aden, howz iz goin on you en eh?" Aureil said flamboyantly pointing her hands to the people she addressed with the little energy she could still muster.

Searching for the source of the magnificent smell, Aureil found the other Elysian in the room stretching his wings, and cringed.

"Izual.... good to see you again... uh, whatever you cooked up there smells fantastic yet again!" She spoke Yamataigo when she addressed Izual Katos. She still wasn't used to seeing other Elysians when she herself was betraying who she was in order to act like a regular Yamataian citizen. Her face cringed a little because when she saw Izual's beautiful wings stretch out, Aureil thought she felt something move on her back, and that caused her unease.

Aureil tried to shove the unpleasantness she felt away by trying to wrap her arm around Aden's neck, and bringing him close to answer the captain's question in a language she could actually speak, but with a stupor.

"Captain... my Captain... I slept... fine, no, great even! But as you know I am not necessary what you call a, uh "morning" person. Never fear though... ŭoooooooooo~n... just need to take my fill, and i'll probably be good to go for another round of messing with doohickeys... probably."
 
The sight that greeted Aden upon entering the "briefing room" was one he was going to need some time to adjust to. For starters the resembled his family dining table than the (semi) proper briefing rooms at the academy. Secondarily, the occupants were, to Aden at least, bizarre.
His family being farmers by trade they usually only met fellow Nepleslians. So when he had first seen the horned captain or the winged cook it was a bit of a culture shock. In fact the only one resembling a Nepleslian was the young girl covered in grease stains. While he knew her to be Yamataian it was a still comforting that she had no extra appendages or the like.
At first wanting simply to greet the captain, get debriefed on whatever job the captain had aligned, and leave to further tinker on his ship; Aden found that the aroma coming from the.......food? Was reminding him of his complaining stomach and as such stiffly sat down at the table as Captain Mort spoke.
Aden understood Yamataian well enough, though the words failed him when attempting to speak the language even worse than when he spoke Trade.
At any rate while the other crew greeted on another Aden helped himself to a humble portion of the food laid before him. While eating he psyched himself up to respond to the captain.
However, all semblance of proper articulation fell apart when Auriel wrapped her arm around him. Aden stiffened further and mumbled something along the lines of, "H-h-hello Auriel. I s-s-s-slept well enou-eno-enough. W-w-w-hat-t-ts the missi-si-sion today?"
 
Already well into his first bowl of , well whatever it is izual had whipped up. After about a minute of loud, sloppy eating, the captain seemed to recall the question he had just asked moments before "oh, right! I slept beautifully" downing the rest of the first bowls contents, Mort began filling it with another helping as he spoke " welp, food and fuel ain't cheap, and I'd like to keep enough fuel in her to jump at least a system if worse goes to worse-er" pausing his train of thought Mort downed another mouthful of izual's concoction "toriel! Izual, I don't know how you turn those protein cubes into this stuff but please never stop" pausing again "dammit, lost my train of thought, oh, right! So anyway, last night, I was up last looking at the wanted list for the iphilius system, and I think I found our payday"
 
With a bowl a stew before Aureil, all restraint was lost, and she quickly moved her arm off of Aden to serve herself a bowl of stew, filling it up all the way to the brim. Between the company of the crew and messing around with machinery, coming to a meal created as a result of Izual's masterful culinary abilities was definitely Aureil's favorite part of the day. So when she finally finished serving herself, she sat down next to Aden, facing the Captain, and began gorging in silence without a thought regardless of how suspicious the meal looked. Perhaps only celestial beings could imagine the kind of cuisine that Izual could make if he was given proper and high quality ingredients.

Though the promise of work was interesting, it was quaint and pale in comparison to the food she had. Though this mindset was probably due to the fact that Aureil had skipped a full blown meal the day prior to devote herself to the deconstruction of the little machine she was working on just a few moments ago. She would not make the same mistake again. So Aureil sat in silence eating, and then waited for the others to talk about this job they would take. After all Aureil was an engineer who sold whatever scrap parts she could, not an economist. Whatever the guys decided on doing, she would gladly get involved, unless it involved destroying an innocent and perfectly functional spacecraft.
 
"...eínai étsi. And does it pay in actual currency, this time, captain? The sort that might be exchanged for, oh, proper foodstuffs?" Izual seated himself, but did not serve himself - he classically took his own meals alone, quietly, after engaging in proper prayer. "I would be particularly pleased were I to have access to polenta, haloumi, mint... I would settle for psomi, though."

Honestly, it'd been some time since Izual had seen a proper payday. And while he wasn't in this line of work for the money - whatever accumulation of currency he ever was paid slipped right through his fingers as he spent it on simple pleasantries for the people around him - he was a biological entity who required currency to exchange for the necessities of continuing to maintain biological functions. A little coin could keep him flying keep his people fed. There'd been all too little of it in recent years. He'd drifted through half a dozen ships, sharing the Faith with those who would listen, and each had come to ignoble ends.

The skies were unwelcoming for outcasts and ne'er-do-wells, from the familiar manufacted star that birthed him to the stranger things beyond.
 
Upon hearing the possibility of a payday a mixture of thoughts and feelings rushed through Aden's mind.

First and foremost was the possibility of proper repairs to Dragonfly. Aden had much experience in maintaining the beat up fighter with limited resources but he knew he was pushing it. The focusing lens on the port side upper heavy laser was beginning to fade. Cleaning and polishing had worked so far, but the crystalline lens became more dull with every cleaning. Polishing was a slow , meticulous process requiring hours of work to properly clear the lens while avoiding further damage to it. As it stould, the laser was operating at 75% efficiency with risk of total laser diffusion any day now.

Furthermore many of the vector thrusters were deteriorating. Most still functioned well enough to maneuver and perform VTOL operations. However, the thruster failings resulted in relatively slower turns and breaking. Aden knew that this could cause issues with high stress turns but wouldn't matter unless he performed a literal 90 degree turn. In all fairness, the thrusters' lackluster performance was mainly Aden's fault. There was one main issue with The Dragonfly that was taking all of his attention.

The IAPD engine was failing. The IAPD provided Dragonfly with her power and propulsion. It was her heart. One of the problems wasthe Aether-to-Matter Converter leaking fuel. The leak was small but growing larger potentially resulting in catastrophic failure. Currently the leak was patched by adhesives, a solution Aden found himself using on far too many of Dragonfly's issues, but would not hold. He needed proper welding gear and the correct metals to properly repair the converter, both of which he lacked on board.

A secondary, and potentially devastating, issue was that of the Aether Generator beginning to fluctuate. While benign for the time being, the fluctuations could mean the Generator was beginning to fail. If that occurred Aden didn't even know where to begin in repairing it.

Though he knew that Auriel was an engineer and may be able to help, Aden considered this an extreme last resort. Call it mechanic's pride but Aden was resistant to the idea that anyone besides himself or his father working on Dragonfly's heart.

So it was that Aden kept this on his mind when Aden sat straight up in his chair, looked Captain Mort in his eyes, and said, in a voice steadier than any other time since coming aboard, "What's the bounty Captain and how can I help us secure it?"
 
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