SET: Star Army Depot at Nataria
"Huahhhh," Kyosuke sighed. "Now it's the waiting game."
He waited at the mouth of the mounting port of the Goban, the elliptical freighter seemingly hanging from it like a dumbbell from a string. He had explored enough of the ship to know it was going to be home for a while. More than the depot to be sure. The white walls of one of the Nataria depot arms were enough to drive him nuts -- everything was shiny and clean and generally unlike what he was used to. Maybe I should throw a bucket of sand on my floor, he thought with a snort.
The short corridor in front of him was supposed to produce not one, but two individuals for his vessel. His crew already had six sprite Nekos introduced to him to fill out other positions. The CIES avatar of the Goban was irritatingly on the other side of the mouth, short black hair cropped into a boyish style, a pleasant smile on her face. Kyosuke already knew she was too cheery, but as she had the same theoretical rank as he did, she inexplicably was able to resist his demands she be more ... dour. Her uniform at least had grey panels.
"They will come," she said simply. Her name was Ann, spelled with Japanese hirigana. It made Kyosuke sick; what happened to good, aggressive names, like "Yamato" and "Yoko" and "Katsu!"
"They could come early," Kyosuke replied, checking his chronograph. 17:54. I hate the Army. "I wish they would. I want to know what's in the damn hold already."
"Shimada-Chusa said she would tell you when the new crew arrives," Ann replied.
"Before or after she electrocutes me for not having the crew on time?" Kyosuke tapped his left thigh pants pocket, the datapad inside containing the rest of his manifest and the appropriate logs.
"Shimada-Chusa is not so mean," Ann said easily. Too easily.
"Sure," Kyosuke muttered. "But if she has a problem, I have a problem." The Yamataian ran a hand through his black hair and went back to leaning against the mouth of the mounting port.
Before long, a stern-looking Yamataian in uniform entered through the short corridor, carrying a suitcase at her side with her gear.
She walked up to Kyosuke, lowered her suitcase and promptly stood straight, saluting at her Commander. "Ameko Kayama, reporting for duty, sir. I was assigned as the pilot for this vessel under orders of Personnel."
"Finally," Kyosuke muttered before she walked up to him. He looked at his chronograph -- 17:59. Barely.
"Bow when you see your commander; saluting is for Nepleslians," he said to Kayama with a distinct lack of edginess, but enough irritation to sound authoritative. He took out his datapad. "Kayama-Hei ... there you are. Good to meet you." He bowed a little as well.
Ameko nodded immediately, dropping the salute and bending forward in a deep bow. "My apologies, Commander."
"Don't mention it." The Yamataian looked over the Neko and down the corridor again. "We're waiting on one more. Let's see if he shows up."
Just after Ameko arrived, a young Geshrin, dressed in the red-paneled uniform of an enlisted soldier, appeared after rounding the corner adjacent to the corridor. He carried his gear in a large, standard-issue duffel over his right shoulder. A tired look adorned his face, matching his untidy appearance.
The Gesrhin stopped beside the Yamataian girl, put down his bag, and then gave a small bow. "Heicho Nicholas Saiga, reporting, sir,â€
"Huahhhh," Kyosuke sighed. "Now it's the waiting game."
He waited at the mouth of the mounting port of the Goban, the elliptical freighter seemingly hanging from it like a dumbbell from a string. He had explored enough of the ship to know it was going to be home for a while. More than the depot to be sure. The white walls of one of the Nataria depot arms were enough to drive him nuts -- everything was shiny and clean and generally unlike what he was used to. Maybe I should throw a bucket of sand on my floor, he thought with a snort.
The short corridor in front of him was supposed to produce not one, but two individuals for his vessel. His crew already had six sprite Nekos introduced to him to fill out other positions. The CIES avatar of the Goban was irritatingly on the other side of the mouth, short black hair cropped into a boyish style, a pleasant smile on her face. Kyosuke already knew she was too cheery, but as she had the same theoretical rank as he did, she inexplicably was able to resist his demands she be more ... dour. Her uniform at least had grey panels.
"They will come," she said simply. Her name was Ann, spelled with Japanese hirigana. It made Kyosuke sick; what happened to good, aggressive names, like "Yamato" and "Yoko" and "Katsu!"
"They could come early," Kyosuke replied, checking his chronograph. 17:54. I hate the Army. "I wish they would. I want to know what's in the damn hold already."
"Shimada-Chusa said she would tell you when the new crew arrives," Ann replied.
"Before or after she electrocutes me for not having the crew on time?" Kyosuke tapped his left thigh pants pocket, the datapad inside containing the rest of his manifest and the appropriate logs.
"Shimada-Chusa is not so mean," Ann said easily. Too easily.
"Sure," Kyosuke muttered. "But if she has a problem, I have a problem." The Yamataian ran a hand through his black hair and went back to leaning against the mouth of the mounting port.
Before long, a stern-looking Yamataian in uniform entered through the short corridor, carrying a suitcase at her side with her gear.
She walked up to Kyosuke, lowered her suitcase and promptly stood straight, saluting at her Commander. "Ameko Kayama, reporting for duty, sir. I was assigned as the pilot for this vessel under orders of Personnel."
"Finally," Kyosuke muttered before she walked up to him. He looked at his chronograph -- 17:59. Barely.
"Bow when you see your commander; saluting is for Nepleslians," he said to Kayama with a distinct lack of edginess, but enough irritation to sound authoritative. He took out his datapad. "Kayama-Hei ... there you are. Good to meet you." He bowed a little as well.
Ameko nodded immediately, dropping the salute and bending forward in a deep bow. "My apologies, Commander."
"Don't mention it." The Yamataian looked over the Neko and down the corridor again. "We're waiting on one more. Let's see if he shows up."
Just after Ameko arrived, a young Geshrin, dressed in the red-paneled uniform of an enlisted soldier, appeared after rounding the corner adjacent to the corridor. He carried his gear in a large, standard-issue duffel over his right shoulder. A tired look adorned his face, matching his untidy appearance.
The Gesrhin stopped beside the Yamataian girl, put down his bag, and then gave a small bow. "Heicho Nicholas Saiga, reporting, sir,â€