RP: LSDF Akahar [Interlude] - Are you there?

"Everyone's suffering for this one, fatass. This'll be in the pot for the next fight anyway. Knowing how you bird girls seem to ooze more testosterone than Id-Sol's. It'll be good." Veronica places a hand on her toned hip. "Fight'll be sooner if you want to stay in my way."

Pratima's flailing about doesn't earn much attention from her. "Walk it off, and stop messing with my shit." She snaps back at her shortly. She never seemed actually angry in her tone with anyone. Just aggressive.

The Pratma in the hall who was pushed around repeatedly laboriously got to it's feet, and quietly walked away to maintain its self.

The Pratima dealing with the room in vacuum sealed up the damage to the best of it's ability, keeping up a patter with Bes'linn over the radio as she described what she was doing. Some of it was sane, and made sense, like 'repairing conduits' and 'replacing damaged wiring'. Some of it was... questionable like 'applying electroluminescent wire' and 'engraving icons'. Finally Pratima signaled she was ready to seal the hole.

A quick glance into the room revealed that Pratima had covered the inside of the room with engravings of various chemical compounds common in food.

Rae had just finished her shower. By the end of it the warrior felt almost back to normal. She had replayed the fight over and over in her head and much to her own chagrin, could only agree with Bastion's assessment. She had gotten her ass kicked, and perhaps she had to work her way back into proper fighting shape. It was a hard thing for the woman to swallow. She took a deep breath and slowly exhaled to calm herself, then got back in uniform.

She had one more thing to take care of today, and she intended to see to it as she made her way to the captains quarters .

Upon the hull of the Akahar where the engineers were working to get the hull repaired, they could spot something. Something folded into their local space. It was a Lorath vessel, immediately identifiable as a Zahl class.

The secondary engineer that was passing materials, wire and piping to Pratima on the other side of the hull was nudging Bes'linn. "Might want to tell Keib we've got inbound."

"Yep." Bes'linn replied as she kept the lines secure and taut for Pratima as she kept working.

"Oh, and apparently they're going to have a small inspection."

"I got the Bridge Bunnies in my ear telling me to get down there and tidy my workspace for such an occasion," Bes'linn shot back. "I don't care if my workspace is a mess to them - it's perfectly fine to me!"

Speaking of which, she looked into the hole and spotted some of the freespacer's handiwork. "Is that art you're doing? Ugh, nevermind. I'm about to detach the line and seal up the hole from my end. Confirm readiness?"

"Readyness confirm." Pratima replied, "You seal your side, I'll seal mine, then we can turn the air back on and I'll walk out through the door."

-

"Keib, yeah they say they're doing an inspection too," the Fyuunen bridge bunny told him, "surprise surprise they want to ensure that the replacements are going to the bottom-of-the-barrel hellhole they expect it to be."

"So, keep things running as normal then," Keib replied. "complete with the Freespacer's doodlings in the hall, the coffee machine that dispenses methamphetamine in engineering, my apple plant experiments that are NOT to be touched in the Rec Room, my entire Office full of Phoenix Man!, the CO's former office which now looks like the set of Crime Investigation Hourly with Christopher Hargitay," he paused for breath before continuing.

"The armoury half blown to pieces by those bloody pirates, that Demon armour down in the livestock area that's playing Phoenix Man! cartoons on repeat while there's a rotting corpse inside it, and the severed leg of a pirate that's sticking out of the disposal chute?"

"Yes."

"Wonderful!" He stood up off of the couch and clapped his hands. The datapad on his lap fell onto the couch by his side. "That means the Lazarus shipment should be hot on their heels once I get some introductions done." His datapad bleeped, he was being sent the records of the two new crewmembers. "Let's see what we've got..."

-

MEANWHILE, ON THE ZAHL-CLASS CRUISER...

"I know one of you has stepped in it while the other just had the misfortune of drawing the short straw," the Fyuunen matriarch and commander of the ship was addressing the aid package to the Akahar, or at least, their personnel replacement contingent. According to reports from Keib, they were replacing a foreigner who ate one Duq too many and went to la-la land while a pilot attempted to jostle the apples in Keib's garden in the rec room. The first procedure to extract apple seeds from someone had taken place.

"Kam'kebek 'Tilt' Casek Fyunnen, you are a deviant, bordering on the line between heretic and mere miscreant. Your repeated failure to integrate with orderly society has put you here, and this is to be your pennance unless further punishments are to be levied upon thee."

"Sen'ythy 'Seeker' Rezan Fyunnen, you are merely unfortunate." She was striding from side to side, watching them both with her owly gaze, "a promising candidate for salvaging operations, but the Akahar is the only place left for you. Your ability to pilot a Whirlwind will not go astray in salvage operations, and I believe Keib, curse his name, has two in his possession."

She came to a stop, boot clopping against the floor loudly, echoing through the ship's hard surfaced walls and floors. "Before I let the Goddess decide your fates, do you have questions?" Her attention was placed more upon Seeker than Tilt, a distant scorn and disdain on the corners of her lips as there was a smile directed towards the misfortunate, and a smirk towards the heretic.

'Seeker' Sen'ythy bit back a sharp retort, knowing full well that it would do him no good. It wasn't his fault that the stupid animal had gotten under his foot, or that it couldn't stand up to a mere...ten tons. "What is the role of the Akahar, Sir?"

A reasonable question, the matriarch thought. "It serves as a crow to scour the battlefields for the hulks of our ships. It brings them back within safe territory and leaves us the task of reviving any crew members, recovering records and keeping sensitive technology or cargo out of enemy hands. The Akahar is made for longer ranged soujurns. I guess that beast enjoys the solitude of the void."

"Tilt" Casek had been silent virtually from the first moment that the matriarch had stepped before them, and little had changed since she first began speaking. In fact, even when the offer for questions was made, he stayed silent, and preferred to listen first before he actually spoke himself, "Ma'am, what's the contingent of soldiers aboard standing at for numbers and equipment? Also, when it comes to requisitions, what's the time we can expect? I'm willing to bet the Akahar isn't very high on the priority list from the way it's praised."

Seeker simply sighed under his breath, making no comment. Figured. One mistake and he'd be stuck on salvage ships for the rest of his career before it had even properly begun. He remained silent while listening to the other guy, who's name he thought was....Tilt. Tilt? Huh.

Her nostrils flared at the heretic-branded Fyuunen. Condescension was in her eyes as she grinned. "The Akahar's M.O. is to find what it can and a dapt. It is a salvaging ship, correct? It must be resourceful to survive, as in its voyages, contacts are few and far between." An assistant passed her a datapad, making her attention waver as she looked at what it was. Her brow furrowed and there was a growl. "You're just part of the gift wrapping tonight, and it seems as though your CO wants to inspect you before we start the transfers." She turned to one of the other Fyuunen standing nearby. "Main screen, turn on."

"Yes, ma'am."

A holographic viewing port shimmered into view a couple of steps behind the matriarch, who stepped away and stood between the two contingents, acting like a wedge. The screen flickered to life and the matriarch clicked her tongue in disgust immediately.

Keib was sitting at his desk, showing clear disregard for uniform by wearing a labcoat with the rank and insignia patches applied on haphazardly. Underneath it was a casual shirt of some sort with the logo to a Nepleslian games company on it. Receeding hairline, white hair, widows peak, slate grey eyes and a triangular face with human-shaped ears showed that he was a New Tur'lista - a thinker, allegedly.

"Keib here," his opening sentence made the Matriarch's teeth grind loud enough for the duo to hear it - he disregarded another protocol. His head was resting on one hand lazily as he looked at the fresh meat for himself. "Lovely to see you again as always, Ro'vii. How's tricks?"

Seeker ended up standing behind and to one side of the Matriarch, looking at the viewscreen to get a glimpse of his new commander. What he saw made his heart sink from where it had been, somewhere in his crotch, to the vicinity of his left boot. This was, truly, the end of his career. His new commander looked like a cross between a game nerd and....someone who needed, desperately, to get laid. Resisting the urge to shake his head, he stood at attention, trying not to look particularly miserable.

The man on the screen didn't look like the commanding officer of an LSDF naval vessel. He looked like a member of Aethersperm. The sick one, Tilt thought. Still, he came to attention. Decry him as she may have, this wasn't the engineer's first spin through the vacuum with the LSDF, and he knew how to handle himself. It would be apparent despite the Soldier's insignia on his uniform that he more than knew what he was doing. He stayed silent and waited for the Matriarch to speak -- if only so she could appease her sense of self by further insulting Tilt.

"Were it not for how much further you could degrade yourself and still call yourself LSDF personnel, I am just fine."

"Rock bottom is a solid foundation, marm," Keib replied lazily before straightening himself and clasping his hands on the desk in front of him. Now that he'd leaned back upright, there was a Phoenix Man! poster on the wall behind his chair. "If we're done with pleasantries, I'd like to confirm the shipment being bought onto my ship, passengers included." He leaned forward into the camera, and it became apparent that he hadn't been sleeping well. A purple shadow was beneath his eyes. "C'mon, say hi. You have my permission."

Seeker watched the intercourse between the two officers, though it wasn't immediately apparent whether or not the commander of the ship they'd been assigned to warranted the term 'officer.' Despite his desire to keep his head down and say nothing, he couldn't help but smile slightly as the weary looking man told them to say hello.

"Hi. You have my permission."

"Adorable." Keib replied. "Disciplined sort, stands upright well and..." he typed into some keys, "he's a mech pilot, and a good one, save for that indiscretion with the-"

"Silence!" The Matriarch replied before giving Tilt a jab in the ribs with her elbow.

The Matriarch's jab did visually very little to stir a reaction from the heretic-branded Fyunnen, or even cause his expression to change much from the stand-offishly stoic appearance, "Sir. I'd say it's a pleasure to be coming aboard, but from what I was told your vessel is in need of some heavy engineering work. That's why I'm here."

"A can-do attitude I see? Maybe?" He looked down at the keyboard once more and looked back up, eyes looking elsewhere on screen rather than the camera or the video he was seeing. "You are a definite maybe."

The matriarch sighed. "In your words, then, are they satisfactory?" Keib nodded in reply. "Good."

"Call it even for the Ink'arr Lys, it was an interesting salvage." Keib recalled. She sighed in concession. This was why they kept him around. Somehow he was able to track it down several months, and get most of it back intact after an ambush destroyed the ship last year. "Anything further?" A pair of fuzzy hands came into view, holding a saucer and a mug of tea. Keib smiled, looked down and accepted the beverage with a mouthed thanks. The wet-nosed face of a bleary-eyed, orange-haired Helashio poked onto the screen for a moment before it moved away.

The Matriarch seemed to be waiting for her charges to respond.

Tilt regarded the Matriarch with seemingly perpetually squinted neon-green eyes, "No, ma'am." He tersely shook his head, "I'm ready to head aboard." Goddess, he hated the woman already, and he'd barely known her.

It was hard, very hard, for Seeker not to smirk. So his shipmate was a goody-two-shoes. Perfect. That was all he needed. The death of his career, and a crew of assholes. Maybe there were a few women on board....that really did make him smirk a little bit. Women on a small ship, without any other real beacons of masculinity, if the commander was anything to go by. Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad after all..... "Hm? Oh, yes. Ready to come aboard."

"Great, I'm sure you'll both fit right in."

They'll fit somewhere... the Matriarch pondered quietly.

"Ro'vii can handle the rest from here."

"That's Commandant Ro'vii Issik 'Crusher' Fyuunen, Howler. Do not forget your place." Keib winked back in reply before the video feed went to static and fizzled out of view. "And do not forget yours either!"

-

The door to Keib's office slid open, and Rae'lynn was standing there, looking into his chaotic room. Aiesu was still sitting down on the couch, apparently absorbed in thought. Keib was sitting at his desk with a cup of tea and his Helashio assistant was just nearby, hands behind back and nodding in acknowledgement towards the Fyuunen.

On the walls were posters, and opposite the couch was a television screen with a Nepleslian games console of some sort, controllers sitting beside the item. Upon the dresser were Nepleslian figures.

"Ah, Rae'lynn. What can I do for you?" He asked, looking up from his desk. He heard a thump earlier, but he didn't wish to bring it up immediately.

-

"Alright fine, it'd better be a fight with a clear winner this time." Yar'mak crossed his arms at the pirate. Gough breathed a sigh of relief as he nodded towards Veronica, as if to assure her that everything was going to work out. "Otherwise I join in too!"

Gough buried his face in his palm, grumbling audibly into his hand.

(OOC: I'll probably post other posts as Pratima sticks her fingers in things but...)

As the Pratima unit slowly wandered away from the fighting area, and Veronica it mumbled to it's self. "Processing data. Interesting. There are new faces in docking bay. Quering ship database. They have been added to crew registry." The voice still came, annoyingly enough, out of veronica's pad.

Showing little regard for her datapad, she hurls it at the back of the Pratima unit's head. The device bouncing off the back of it's noggin and clattering to the floor. "Knock that shit off." She walks over and picks it up, apparently undamaged somehow.

Deciding that she didn't want to stick around and keep arguing with fatman, she decides to actually see who Pratima is referring to. The five minutes straight of spamming Keib messages for a map of the hull somehow wound up on her PDA... with a small note she ignored. Moving to the docking bay which was a place she'd yet to be.

She overhears part of the discussion as she enters, but not the whole thing. She rudely interrupts. "Wait, who are we getting? The scrawny kid or the nerd? Or the birdgirl who stands like her ass got a big stick stuck in it?

Rae took a moment to look over all the people in the room before focusing back on her CO. She snapped a crisp salute to Keib, standing at perfect attention afterwards. “I was wondering if you had a moment to discuss my station aboard the Akahar.”

She seemed to not even notice the Helashio's nod as she said it, or if she did it was blatantly being ignored. “Privately, if possible,” she added after a moment.

Bastion's cabin nest

With new people on board, Mars had no time to spare. She had to cut short on her lifting and went to take a quick shower. After that she quickly went to grab a uniform and put it on properly, while being under dutiful watch of Liria.

"I wonder who we will get this time," Mars said, so the two of them would not be in total silence and new folks on the ship were only thing on her mind right now.

"I would not know mistress," the helashio said with a gentle smile as she handed a belt to Mars to put it on. "Hopefully they shall be dutiful soldier and addition to the crew."

"I find that unlikely," Mars replied, accepting the belt and sliding it into her pants. "We mostly just got dregs and good-for-nothings on this ship. Keib then has to make them working. With a little bit of my help." She smiled. Mars did not usually boast, but in this particular case it was pretty much true.

"I heard there was a fight in the gym," Liria said with voice of concern. As if she worried that Mars was one who fought.

"Aye, there was." The tall fyunnen replied with a nod. "Merril went insane and fought the new Razor girl. Funnily enough no one won. It showed me that the new girl is quite rusty though, I will need to work with her."

"I am sure it will help!" Said the helashio cheerfuly and smiled.

"I hope it will," Mars nodded and stood up now in full uniform. "It is a good excuse for me to do a little training as well. Anyway I better go, before those two new will get on board. I expect Keib to call on me any minute now. He always does."

"Good luck Mistress. May the godess watch over you." Liria said with a slight bow.

"I am just going to meet new crewmembers, not wrestle a Em'ai." Mars mentioned a large predators which was a strange mix of a racoon and very very big dog. Except highly aggressive and steroids. "Thank you though," the fyunnen said and left the room with smile on her lips.

A series of shuttles came out of the Zahl-class cruiser to deliver the cargo over. One of them had the two Fyuunen men on it, and it was piloted by an I'Llus "Camo" Trell Llmanel. Former pilot of the Trishka, now relegated to doing supply drops from ship to ship. For her it was a humiliating and thankless job that made her simmer and seethe with resentment - the Trishka was a jewel of the LSDF, and there she was doing cargo duty on some far flung, bombed out system for the lowest ship on the ladder.

It was enough to make anyone's blood boil if they held onto the past so.

Eventually, the shuttle touched down in the Akahar's hangar bay along with the fleet of others. Some cargo technicians were nearby to receive, catalogue, store and confirm that their cargo had arrived. The airlock to the shuttle opened up, and Kam'kebek and Sen'ythy could feel the Akahar's air washing out and neutralising their parent ship's stuffiness and glory houndery. They knew there was no glory in this assignment.

But Keib didn't demand glory either. To him and his beloved Akahar, it was a mere byproduct of house politics in action - ill gotten rewards and undeserved praises for astonishing failures or losses done in the name of honour or glory. A convenient cover for failure or incompetence, just like it was before the Lorath were launched into space.

"By the way, I'Llus," the Zahl's matriarch addressed the pilot directly once touched down. She noticed the controls for her shuttle suddenly lock out to her. "You're staying here too. No hard feelings. Just follow the men." The words 'EXTRO-PILOT ENGAGED' blinked on the shuttle's HUD. It was now in control of someone at a console back on the Zahl. "And tell Keib that his actions do not absolve him of his history of dishonour!"

When they left the shuttle, a pair of medical technicians could be seen pushing a cart with an injured Llmanel on it into the shuttle, securing the patient and giving the shuttle's hull a few thumps to confirm that everything was set before hopping off and letting the shuttle fly away.

One of the cargo technicians passing by with a hauling frame commented, "Oooh, Deshe'vo Plasma Rifles. Brass must've seen fit to raise our weapons quota after the pirates." There seemed to be twenty four in total.

"I hope they remembered to pack a manual this time!" one of the others commented dryly. "Where are we going to put them in the armoury anyway?"

The lorath in the lifting frame shrugged, making the package go up and down with them. "I think Bes'linn's getting it fixed right now. The materials should be in the next couple of shuttles."

"Good good."

Mars eventually showed up to meet the new crew members in the flesh. Veronica was there too, there to overhear the chatter from the cargo technicians. A Pratima was nearby too. Only Mars looked like she'd belong on a Lorath ship worth its salt, standing out as a bastion of sanity amongst the perceived insanity of the Akahar. The fact that she was in the same vicinity of an alien freespacer and someone who looked like centerfold material for a pirate was only making her look more out of place.

-

Aiesu stood up from the couch and looked at the Fyuunen for a moment before judging that she wasn't worth prying on just yet, and exited the room quietly. Greg, meanwhile made itself scarce by stepping away from the desk and standing behind Keib, near the wall. It knew some Lorath were not as kind towards helashio, like that Aiesu woman.

When the door slid shut, Keib leaned in and said: "I heard the thump from here. It sounded like two people. Bridge confirmed it was a draw," he reached over to a bowl of candy made by the perpetual candy fabricator that he kept on his desk and placed it on the front of the desk. "I see you're settling in nicely if there's already been a fight over gym equipment." His tone was not aggressive or confrontational with his words, he seemed to be treating the gym altercation like it was a fact of life, cheerfully even.

He wondered if it was just lorath nature to fight over things arbitrarily, especially amongst Fyuunen. He remembered reading an old history book showing how proto-Fyuunen knights were no better than bullies when they were not fighting a war or undertaking a quest - and even then their conduct was unscrupulous.

"Your post on the Akahar is one of necessity for me. You're replacing one of my troops that was wounded during the pirate ship raid." He tapped his jaw, just to the left of his goatee. "Shot in the face, went through the jaw and its put him in a coma. I'm having him taken from me to receive further care and recover, maybe get a reposting - I wrote well on their report."

Kam'kebek, or "Tilt" as he would have been more commonly called, couldn't have felt more grateful than to be off the shuttle. That woman was a pain in his ass and the Soldier was eager to distance himself from her, even if it meant getting ever closer to being aboard what was likely going to be the worst posting of his career during the entirety of his LSDF career thus far.

So he headed to leave the shuttle alongside his fellow new arrival, the pilot. Seeker was his name, and Tilt hardly needed to try to recall it. It hadn't been that long since he'd heard the matriarch say it and he hadn't suffered any sort of lasting head damage since then. A glance over his shoulder to make sure they were out of ear-shot led to his turning to the other Fyunnen man. Something about the pilot told Tilt he'd be able to get away with his next words without fear of some painful reprimand from higher command.

"That girl needs to get stuffed, am I right?" Something close to a smirk crossed his normally stoic features and he offered a hand to the pilot, "You heard the name: Tilt. I don't think we had much time to get properly acquainted on the ride over. Sorry to hear that you got shafted by command." And now squinted neon-green eyes turned out to the vessel they had stepped aboard, "But the way I figure it, the new blood has to look after itself. So if we stick together we probably won't fuck it all up too bad. Maybe get you a better post next tenure. That sound good to you?"

But Tilt didn't wait for a response as they moved. He stepped aside for the gurney, but didn't pause much in his stride. Tilt had somewhere to be and he wasn't in the mood to deal with some superior-to-though, I-embody-the-goddess ship XO chewing him out for being late getting off the shuttle or some garbage on that line.

Yet some part of the Fyunnen engineer told him that he wouldn't be so lucky, running a hand through predominantly white hair with a tired sigh as he passed the frame and it's operator talking about the Deshe'vo rifles -- with Tilt getting the sneaking suspicion that a ship like this probably hadn't been given any of particularly respectable quality. Which probably meant that he'd be working with whoever the ship's assigned armorer was on making sure stuff like that was okay as soon as he was done with whatever arbitrary tasks the nearest ranking supremacist had in mind for him. At this point he was so caught up in his own thoughts that he had begun to outpace Seeker and soon found himself approaching -- people. He looked at the group and determined that yes, they were definitely people.

The Fyunnen woman looked like eight and half feet of mean and muscle that he didn't really want out to kill him if things ever went south. Sparring maybe, but he'd have to be sure to apologize if he won. He may not have liked the feminist supremacy in life, but it wasn't hard to guess that she was the kind to probably hold a grudge of some man beat her.

Then on either side of her were . . . well. One of them looked like a pirate who got aboard the wrong ship at port. The other was a Freespacer . . . and that was really enough in itself. Tilt looked to the Fyunnen woman and rendered a proper salute befitting the fact that she outranked him.

"Ma'am." He began, "Field Engineer Kam'kebek "Tilt" Casek Fyunnen." God and goddess he hated reporting for the first time, such a mouthful, "Reporting as ordered." With that he dropped the salute.

Oh was Camo the type to hold a grudge. She had worked hard for years, getting the best scores and the best reviews, curtailing her remarks and holding her tongue all to make sure that when the time came, when they truly started to roll out the good ships, she had gotten a post aboard a truly wonderful ship, and it had happened! Figuring she had tenure there she had reverted back to her normal self, the knowledge of just how much better she was becoming apparent. Then those Fyunnen screwed it all up for her.. She still remembered how Korrih had dismissed her so casually, bringing shame on her in her family's eyes.

Then she had been regulated to these shuttle runs. More of a insult now as she east forced to ferry people and cargo back and forth as little better then a delivery woman, forced to do one of the lowest duties a pilot could. She was scowling at the console as she easily lowered the shuttle in, opening the back hatch for her two passengers to disembark. Lounging over her shoulder was her trin'trat "tongue", he tail lazily wrapping around her arm.

Then she heard the Fyunnen woman...

"What did you say?!" But it was a moot point as she saw the console lock out. Letting out a scream of rage she began to punch and claw at the screen, leaving gouges in the metal behind it before she finally calmed down. Sitting in the chair restrained as she was she raked a hand over her head, letting fingers run through her hair which she realized to late was gone. When she had been stripped of her position her parents had seen it as a dishonor on their house and had taken measures to make sure all knew who was at fault. Camo was now sporting short cropped hair, less then a inch in length. Gripping her head tightly as she tried to control her anger, she let her fingers dig into her skin, drawing blood. She eventually got to her feet in a small shaking rage before she left the cockpit, eyeing darkly her bag which sat at the back of the cargo hold.

Scooping it up in anger still, she followed the other two closely, figuring it would be best to stick with the other new crew members. If anything the ship's AI would alert the captain to their presence, and who knows, maybe by then she would be somewhat calm and collected. She was still pissed, of that there was no doubt. Glaring daggers at the two with her as if they were to blame she shifted her pack a little in her hands, her now free hand slipping up to stroke the tail of her beloved tongue. It was truthfully the one calming thing she could do just then.

As she stroked the Trin'Trat's tail she allowed her eyes to flash yellow, her pupils taking on a cross look as she peered around the room they were in, taking in the sights, and as her nostrils flared a little, the scents of the area around them. It was all new, and even under her simmering rage she felt the sinking feeling of fear of a new enviroment.

"Seeker" simply nodded, slinging his pack over one shoulder. His companion, Tilt, he called himself, seemed an okay sort. Seeker wasn't sure what he had done to get his own 'promotion' to this...he kept himself from calling it a posting. Career graveyard, more like. But the male seemed companionable enough, and he wasn't too bad looking either...

Blinking, he frowned for a moment. That was new. "Sounds like a plan to me," Was the dry reply when Tilt outlined his plan. Having someone else who was new wouldn't be so bad, he suspected, though the prospect of a better posting in the future seemed like a pipe dream. But Tilt was already moving, and so with a slight shrug, he followed, boots echoing on the cold deck floor.

Striding through the flurry of activity, he looked around the small hanger, looking for any sign of the equipment that he would be assigned, but nothing jumped out at him. Surely they hadn't forgotten that he was actually a pilot? He was distracted, however, by the appearance of three individuals. A female, who looked as if she delighted in breaking men on a daily basis, an individual who looked like one of the pirates in children's stories, and a Freespacer.

"Did we get on the wrong ship?" He muttered under his breath, but dropped his bag, snapping to attention and saluting crisply. "Pilot Sen'ythy "Seeker" Rezan Fyunnen, reporting for duty." He held his salute a little longer than Tilt had, but dropped the hand quickly enough. This was going to be...interesting, for sure.

Rae grit her teeth a moment at the mention of a draw, the fact it wasn’t a clear victory still bothered her, and would for some time. “ I have no issues standing in as a replacement, Sir. “ she paused for a second and considered her words “ I was wondering at this point how I had offended or disappointed you” . Rae was not particularly good at subtle “ I dont recall being under your direct command yet to have done so” She still remained at parade rest during this, watching her CO closely.

LSDF Akahar - Keib's Office

"You have not disappointed neither me or the Matriarchy - but I do wonder if such a cosmetic thing affects the core of your being so." Keib said, leaning in. He didn't seem angry or annoyed by Rae's beliefs in honour or duty - they could be quite good when directed correctly and tempered with reality.

"As a matter of fact, the woman who owns the Zahl that's transporting our new cargo - that's the fourth ship she's been given. I had to salvage the last three ships she lead into death and identify their dead crews."

He took a sip from his cup of tea, putting the empty mug down. "She doesn't even regard me as dirt despite my thankless efforts to clean up her mess, because dirt beneath your feet supports you as you walk, correct?"

"Despite my rank and the position I hold on this ship out of necessity since the previous CO abandoned us, in the Matriarchy's eyes I am beneath even you - but that's just a fact of life. I try not to let it bother me."

"And here's the thing:" He accessed Rae'lynn's file on his computer, and flipped the holographic screen around to her. In the database, she was still a Trooper to the Matriarchy. "I may have placed your rank down to Soldier as a temporary caution, but that only stays here on the Akahar. The Matriarchy would never listen to a promotion or demotion I give - to them you're still a Trooper, through and through!"

"And if it bothers you so much, would you like it back on this ship - no strings attached?"

Mars watched three figures walk to her. Two men and one woman. All fyunnen though and Mars was always happier to work with Fyunnen. She liked Gough and others, but she just did not really know what was going on in their mind. Lmanel and Tur'lista were different. Lmanel had their tribal lives, which in itself might have been close to ho Fyunnen clans worked, but Mars simply did not know. She made a mental note to ask Gough about it later.

"At ease," she said to the two men as they saluted and she saluted back, looking at the woman. The woman was higher rank then Mars, but the pink on her uniform, which was a flight suit showed she was a pilot. "Ma'am," Mars greeted her.

"I would like to welcome you all aboard Akahar. Our current acting Captain is currently busy, but I can help with finding you a room and show you around a ship." Mars greeted them with a gentle smile. She was standing in fairly relaxing position. It was better to not intimidate newcomers as they were usually horridly coarse about being on this ship. Not that she could blame them.

"I am Mars 'Bastion' Aresyan by the way." Mars finally reminded herself that it is good idea to introduce herself as well. "I usually lead away teams and boarding actions."

Her eyes then went to Veronica and Pratima-unit standing by. "These are our current guests on the ship. They are civilian so I expect you two and want to ask you ma'am," her eyes went to female pilot. "That you treat politely."

"Who the fuck are you calling civilian, forehead?" Apparently she had taken to calling Mars 'Forehead' in a derogatory nickname. Veronica proved once again that she was going to be a 'fun' one to adjust to in the Akahar.

"I don't give a shit what you all think. And this fucker here is one of them spacers, so I'll bet she doesn't even get offended." She gestured to the Pratima unit. She had a quick chat with the spacer on the way to the hangar when asked why she struck the last body. "Whatever. Welcome to this ramshackle bird's nest. Feel free to start fights with the crew, I've got a betting ring starting up. It'll get traction and get some good payouts."

"Sparring is fine, even a bit tough one. But if anyone will go around beating other for no good reason, he will have to deal with me." Mars said looking at the newcomers. Her voice was suddenly more cold and emotionless. A 'I mean business' voice. "As for you Veronia, you are civilian whether your like it or not. Unless you would of course want to enlist, which should not be trouble at all. Just talk to Howler. I dont see you getting very far in military though."

"I'll add 40 credits to the pot on whoever puts Forehead in her place then." Was Veronica's curt response to her 'no nonsense' declaration. She didn't seem to think much of her rules. Although to Veronica's credit, she was only implying the fights be watched and bet on, not an actual life threatening assault.

"Your military is retarded. Why would I sign up to be pushed around by women with their brains falling down to their fat asses?" Displaying once again that she really had no respect for... well just about anything, really. The purple haired Geshrin tapped something on her Datajockey briefly after her response, slipping it away before anyone could see what she put on it.

"That would be a question half of the crew on this ship keep asking themselves." Mars responded simply, ignoring the the 40 credits thing at first but then deciding to comment at that as well. "Only 40 credits? I doubt any of the old guard with risk that only for mere 40 creds. Maybe one of the newcomers." She added and chuckled looking at the three fyunnen that exited the shuttle.

Tilt shook his head, "Ma'am, I didn't stay alive this many spins through the vacuum with the LSDF by not knowing a stupid bet when I saw one before now."

He then looked to Veronica and gave a simple motion of his free hand, the one not holding his belongings. He couldn't help the grin that spread across his face as he spoke his next words.

"Her, though. She talks big. It'd be fun to see if she hits hard enough to back it up." Then he looked to Mars, "With all respect due her position and title, ma'am."

With that he gave a quick glance around the ship one more time.

"A bunk would be nice if you have one to spare aboard. After that just point me in the direction of hull repairs, wiring, or the armory and I'll be sure to make myself useful." Best just to appease the not-so-benevolent overlords and get it over with.