Keib's Office
It was not hard to jump on Keib's computer and start searching for her answer. It didn't even lock when he left the room. The last transaction between himself and the Commandant, Rov'ii was logged, giving her the answer she needed. LSDF Avir'Dis to LSDF Akahar.
Rae sat back looking over the record of failure mixed with excellence . It left a bitter taste in her mouth, how could someone who had lost so many ships, and one even to mutiny, still be in such a lofty position regardless of her rank? It was hard to keep the Fyunnen temper in check, but now was not the time to be destroying computers and leaving evidence. It did beg the question though, and she had the computer search for any commendations or condemnations formally issued from Ro'vii to Keib
Rae was hardly surprised with the unprofessional behavior , that was more the obvious enough, the clearance issues on the other had where quite interesting given Kieb's usual task and how he seemed to follow Ro'vii around. Both things actually struck Rae as strange. She decided to reverse the search, checking to see if Kieb had attempted to write anything about Ro'vii...
-
Engineering
Bes'linn was looking at Kam'kebek up and down and nodding. "Sarn." She replied back with a grin. She was replying back in kind. "I see you've met Keib - I could hear it from here. Now," She turned to look at the engineering bay. Over in one corner was an arcade machine built by the ship's Freespacer residents. Kam'kebek could see strange wiring snaking across the floor like an organic moss.
It was snaking over into a vending machine that was once Lorath, but had a terrible case of Freespacers inflicted on it. In Pratima's words, it was now capable of dispensing amphetamines. Bes'linn's second in command was fetching a coffee, and found that the sugar dispenser was not dispensing sugar any more. He sniffed it curiously and took a sip. His eyebrows raised and he made an exaggerated frown before trotting off with something alleging to be coffee in his hands.
As for supplies, things seemed to be a little slim. Crates from the cargo bay were being loaded in to replace what was used to repair the Hull moments ago. "I value inventiveness. When we have the materials to do what we can without fuss, we do it. If not, that is where we must set ourselves apart from those who have plenty."
She walked over to the main work benches. The tools were on the walls, but they looked like they'd been there since the ship had made its maiden voyage. Aside from the new supplies that were coming in hot on Kam'kebek's feet behind him loaded by the technicians scurrying through, everything looked like it'd been loved and abused simultaneously. Sometimes, a cargo tech would stop and gawk at how old the equipment was. "Those belong in a museum..." "'Duct tape shortage?' Unacceptable... how do they manage?" "So short on supplies..."
"Quiet you," she told the cargo technicians - she could smell the pomp and opulence from that Zahl from here. She disliked the stink of them, they always had more items and less brains. The Pico-Jelly related items in the Akahar were minimal at best - leading to jelly rationing, and she could smell it on the cargo technicians, who seemed to have a fresh, abundant supply.
It was with no shortage of barely concealed shock that "Tilt" took in his surroundings when he had arrived. The place certainly looked, for lack of any better words, well-used. There was the arcade machine that had apparently been designed by and likely for the non-Lorath residence that had first caught his eye. Neon green trailed the veritable undergrowth of wiring to see connections to a narcotic-pedaling vending machine. After that the former coffee addict found himself look at the machine in question, and he couldn't stop his shuddering. This wasn't his first tumble in the vacuum with the military, no, but it was certainly his first in such close proximity to the likes of Freespacers.
He looked to Bes'linn, though his eyes could barely remove themselves from his surroundings long enough to maintain eye-contact, "Of - of course, ma'am." Deep breaths, "Tilt", he told himself, stay calm, "I suppose that's one of the few non-demeaning reasons they sent me your way."
"Good, and if you can be inventive, keep the ship running, and remain dilligent, you'll go far. I had the Freespacer help me patch a hole in the hull earlier," She looked over to the arcade machine and sighed. She'd made a note to make it silent or ask for a headphone jack to be installed. "I didn't know what their abilities were, and they did an admirable job. Every new person I see is a leap of trust, not faith. I'm sure I can trust you."
'Tilt' gave only a curt nod, "Of course, ma'am. I'll do my best not to let you down. If I may, however . . ?"
A quick glance over his shoulder was made to check for the proximity of the nearest possible superior officer outsie of Bes herself. The last of the cargo technicians had scurried away from Engineering.
"Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" She nodded.
"Doesn't it seem, dangerous? Letting non-military personnel like those Freespacers aboard? Was that the Captain's own call?" He made a vage disuading motion with one hand, "Not meaning to disrespect the Captain, ma'am. It just seems . . . a breach of security."
"It was Keib's call. Some of our engineers were wounded or killed during the Pirate attack, and he needed a replacement. He takes what he can get, I take what I can get," she sighed. "This ship is run more like a privateer's anyway."
'Tilt' once again gave only a curt, "Understood, ma'am. And if I may? I think my best use right now would be helping with any hull work and then maybe trouble-shooting those new rifles that came in. I doubt the 'esteemed' superiors saw fit to grace a ship like this with respectable and working equipment. And might it be too much to ask for a run-down? So I don't need one every day for my duties?"
She snapped her fingers. "Good call on the rifles. Get to that once I've shown you around..."
SOME TIME PASSES, I WON'T BORE YOU WITH THE DETAILS!...
"...and don't touch the red cable. That's our grounding line. That should be everything. Any questions?"
'Tilt' shrugged, "Just the one, ma'am." He thumbed in the direction from which they had just arrived, "Why were they keeping pizzas on the server racks?" A moment of pause, "And was that sailor growing duqc'loss in her quarters?"
"Because it keeps the pizzas warm, and because that sailor is a weirdo. Keib introduced us to Pizza when he came back from leave to Nepleslia. He also introduced us to something called ... Aethersperm. Noisy horrible 'music'." She snorted in disgust.
"Yeah, I've heard of them. All due respect, the good Captain looked like an aspiring member, to me." Tilt motioned to the red cable now, "What happens if I touch it?" He asked with a knowing chuckle.
"Then the electrics short out and the floor gets electrified and everybody dies. Nothing big."
"Oh, so no painful loss as far as the Matriarchy is concerned. Good to know."
Where the hell was Pratima, though? "Pratima, report." Bes'linn spoke into her earpiece.
-
Hallways
Seeing that Bastion was leading Il'Lus through the Akahar, he smiled and nodded, and started heading towards the holding cells. Along the way though, he saw Vithr and an empty trolley on its side. The doctor seemed to be slumped against the wall. Keib's pace quickened and he knelt down beside him. "Vithr, Vithr," he said, looking down at the doctor and hoisting him up. "Where the is Merrill?" He saw bruises on his neck and a single blood stain on the wall.
Vithr coughed and looked up at Keib. "She recovered on her own. Did her file mention anything about her shapeshifting abilities?" Keib shook his head. "She's got one hell of a fang on her and a chip on her shoulder." Keib tilted his head. "She was able to regenerate from some broken bones during that fight earlier. I saw her back in the wrong direction. It would've killed anyone else."
Keib's eyebrow raised. "Somehow I'm unsurprised that they omit that information - they're just putting powder into my keg, right?" He smiled. "And waiting to throw a match in, but you can't light damp gunpowder."
"She definitely choked me," he rubbed his neck. He had a cut over her his neck, not deep, and on the mend. "No idea where she is now."
"I'm sure the screams of my interrogation could rouse her attention. Come Vithr, we got us an interrogation to do. Prepare good stuff."
"Right."
Holding Cells
Keib stepped into the interrogation room with Vithr in his shadow, walking towards the cheimcals table. Trussed up upon a table was the corpulent pirate captain. There was an IV sticking out of his arm, and he was staring directly into a mirrored ceiling. Seeing himself, seeing Keib's head, and Vithr at the table, flicking at a syringe full of inky liquid.
"My name is Keib," he was speaking fluent Trade, without the linguistic quirks of a Lorath, "and I like to think of myself as an enlightened Lorath with a healthy dose of realism and knowledge that the universe at large exists."
Keib circled around the fat Pirate captain in the middle of the room. Vithr moved up behind him and grabbed the IV and dispensed the contents of the syringe into it. "Now, you seem to be a pirate with enough grease in your bloodstream to make candles with, a myriad of drugs swimming in your system, and my hand-" he put his hand gently against the Pirate's head, "-in your mind."
He then tensed his fingers as though they were digging into his skull and exerted his influence, reaching into the Pirate Captain's skull as though he were reaching through the lid of a cookie jar to grab an ill gotten treat. "So don't lie to me or I will punish you like a right colonial bastard."
He turned around to see if anyone else who'd followed him into the interrogation had some verbal venom to unbottle and leven against the pirate from behind mirrored, reinforced glass. Keib switched back to Lorath, "Don't hold back, this might be the last chance you get to tell him how you feel before I render him far from lucid."
It was not hard to jump on Keib's computer and start searching for her answer. It didn't even lock when he left the room. The last transaction between himself and the Commandant, Rov'ii was logged, giving her the answer she needed. LSDF Avir'Dis to LSDF Akahar.
Two very prominent politicians and former warriors in old and new Lor.
A strange picture of failure was being painted as Rae looked at it. Sent to the two best academies Old Lor could offer, somehow failing upwards. And it seemed like Keib was behind her every step of the way, either keeping her honest or trying to uncover why she was failing so hard.
Rae sat back looking over the record of failure mixed with excellence . It left a bitter taste in her mouth, how could someone who had lost so many ships, and one even to mutiny, still be in such a lofty position regardless of her rank? It was hard to keep the Fyunnen temper in check, but now was not the time to be destroying computers and leaving evidence. It did beg the question though, and she had the computer search for any commendations or condemnations formally issued from Ro'vii to Keib
Rae was hardly surprised with the unprofessional behavior , that was more the obvious enough, the clearance issues on the other had where quite interesting given Kieb's usual task and how he seemed to follow Ro'vii around. Both things actually struck Rae as strange. She decided to reverse the search, checking to see if Kieb had attempted to write anything about Ro'vii...
-
Engineering
Bes'linn was looking at Kam'kebek up and down and nodding. "Sarn." She replied back with a grin. She was replying back in kind. "I see you've met Keib - I could hear it from here. Now," She turned to look at the engineering bay. Over in one corner was an arcade machine built by the ship's Freespacer residents. Kam'kebek could see strange wiring snaking across the floor like an organic moss.
It was snaking over into a vending machine that was once Lorath, but had a terrible case of Freespacers inflicted on it. In Pratima's words, it was now capable of dispensing amphetamines. Bes'linn's second in command was fetching a coffee, and found that the sugar dispenser was not dispensing sugar any more. He sniffed it curiously and took a sip. His eyebrows raised and he made an exaggerated frown before trotting off with something alleging to be coffee in his hands.
As for supplies, things seemed to be a little slim. Crates from the cargo bay were being loaded in to replace what was used to repair the Hull moments ago. "I value inventiveness. When we have the materials to do what we can without fuss, we do it. If not, that is where we must set ourselves apart from those who have plenty."
She walked over to the main work benches. The tools were on the walls, but they looked like they'd been there since the ship had made its maiden voyage. Aside from the new supplies that were coming in hot on Kam'kebek's feet behind him loaded by the technicians scurrying through, everything looked like it'd been loved and abused simultaneously. Sometimes, a cargo tech would stop and gawk at how old the equipment was. "Those belong in a museum..." "'Duct tape shortage?' Unacceptable... how do they manage?" "So short on supplies..."
"Quiet you," she told the cargo technicians - she could smell the pomp and opulence from that Zahl from here. She disliked the stink of them, they always had more items and less brains. The Pico-Jelly related items in the Akahar were minimal at best - leading to jelly rationing, and she could smell it on the cargo technicians, who seemed to have a fresh, abundant supply.
It was with no shortage of barely concealed shock that "Tilt" took in his surroundings when he had arrived. The place certainly looked, for lack of any better words, well-used. There was the arcade machine that had apparently been designed by and likely for the non-Lorath residence that had first caught his eye. Neon green trailed the veritable undergrowth of wiring to see connections to a narcotic-pedaling vending machine. After that the former coffee addict found himself look at the machine in question, and he couldn't stop his shuddering. This wasn't his first tumble in the vacuum with the military, no, but it was certainly his first in such close proximity to the likes of Freespacers.
He looked to Bes'linn, though his eyes could barely remove themselves from his surroundings long enough to maintain eye-contact, "Of - of course, ma'am." Deep breaths, "Tilt", he told himself, stay calm, "I suppose that's one of the few non-demeaning reasons they sent me your way."
"Good, and if you can be inventive, keep the ship running, and remain dilligent, you'll go far. I had the Freespacer help me patch a hole in the hull earlier," She looked over to the arcade machine and sighed. She'd made a note to make it silent or ask for a headphone jack to be installed. "I didn't know what their abilities were, and they did an admirable job. Every new person I see is a leap of trust, not faith. I'm sure I can trust you."
'Tilt' gave only a curt nod, "Of course, ma'am. I'll do my best not to let you down. If I may, however . . ?"
A quick glance over his shoulder was made to check for the proximity of the nearest possible superior officer outsie of Bes herself. The last of the cargo technicians had scurried away from Engineering.
"Permission to speak freely, ma'am?" She nodded.
"Doesn't it seem, dangerous? Letting non-military personnel like those Freespacers aboard? Was that the Captain's own call?" He made a vage disuading motion with one hand, "Not meaning to disrespect the Captain, ma'am. It just seems . . . a breach of security."
"It was Keib's call. Some of our engineers were wounded or killed during the Pirate attack, and he needed a replacement. He takes what he can get, I take what I can get," she sighed. "This ship is run more like a privateer's anyway."
'Tilt' once again gave only a curt, "Understood, ma'am. And if I may? I think my best use right now would be helping with any hull work and then maybe trouble-shooting those new rifles that came in. I doubt the 'esteemed' superiors saw fit to grace a ship like this with respectable and working equipment. And might it be too much to ask for a run-down? So I don't need one every day for my duties?"
She snapped her fingers. "Good call on the rifles. Get to that once I've shown you around..."
SOME TIME PASSES, I WON'T BORE YOU WITH THE DETAILS!...
"...and don't touch the red cable. That's our grounding line. That should be everything. Any questions?"
'Tilt' shrugged, "Just the one, ma'am." He thumbed in the direction from which they had just arrived, "Why were they keeping pizzas on the server racks?" A moment of pause, "And was that sailor growing duqc'loss in her quarters?"
"Because it keeps the pizzas warm, and because that sailor is a weirdo. Keib introduced us to Pizza when he came back from leave to Nepleslia. He also introduced us to something called ... Aethersperm. Noisy horrible 'music'." She snorted in disgust.
"Yeah, I've heard of them. All due respect, the good Captain looked like an aspiring member, to me." Tilt motioned to the red cable now, "What happens if I touch it?" He asked with a knowing chuckle.
"Then the electrics short out and the floor gets electrified and everybody dies. Nothing big."
"Oh, so no painful loss as far as the Matriarchy is concerned. Good to know."
Where the hell was Pratima, though? "Pratima, report." Bes'linn spoke into her earpiece.
-
Hallways
Seeing that Bastion was leading Il'Lus through the Akahar, he smiled and nodded, and started heading towards the holding cells. Along the way though, he saw Vithr and an empty trolley on its side. The doctor seemed to be slumped against the wall. Keib's pace quickened and he knelt down beside him. "Vithr, Vithr," he said, looking down at the doctor and hoisting him up. "Where the is Merrill?" He saw bruises on his neck and a single blood stain on the wall.
Vithr coughed and looked up at Keib. "She recovered on her own. Did her file mention anything about her shapeshifting abilities?" Keib shook his head. "She's got one hell of a fang on her and a chip on her shoulder." Keib tilted his head. "She was able to regenerate from some broken bones during that fight earlier. I saw her back in the wrong direction. It would've killed anyone else."
Keib's eyebrow raised. "Somehow I'm unsurprised that they omit that information - they're just putting powder into my keg, right?" He smiled. "And waiting to throw a match in, but you can't light damp gunpowder."
"She definitely choked me," he rubbed his neck. He had a cut over her his neck, not deep, and on the mend. "No idea where she is now."
"I'm sure the screams of my interrogation could rouse her attention. Come Vithr, we got us an interrogation to do. Prepare good stuff."
"Right."
Holding Cells
Keib stepped into the interrogation room with Vithr in his shadow, walking towards the cheimcals table. Trussed up upon a table was the corpulent pirate captain. There was an IV sticking out of his arm, and he was staring directly into a mirrored ceiling. Seeing himself, seeing Keib's head, and Vithr at the table, flicking at a syringe full of inky liquid.
"My name is Keib," he was speaking fluent Trade, without the linguistic quirks of a Lorath, "and I like to think of myself as an enlightened Lorath with a healthy dose of realism and knowledge that the universe at large exists."
Keib circled around the fat Pirate captain in the middle of the room. Vithr moved up behind him and grabbed the IV and dispensed the contents of the syringe into it. "Now, you seem to be a pirate with enough grease in your bloodstream to make candles with, a myriad of drugs swimming in your system, and my hand-" he put his hand gently against the Pirate's head, "-in your mind."
He then tensed his fingers as though they were digging into his skull and exerted his influence, reaching into the Pirate Captain's skull as though he were reaching through the lid of a cookie jar to grab an ill gotten treat. "So don't lie to me or I will punish you like a right colonial bastard."
He turned around to see if anyone else who'd followed him into the interrogation had some verbal venom to unbottle and leven against the pirate from behind mirrored, reinforced glass. Keib switched back to Lorath, "Don't hold back, this might be the last chance you get to tell him how you feel before I render him far from lucid."
