Zakalwe
Inactive Member
Tsuki sat in the control room beside Ray. She looked over the monitors, watching the SS. Kiroshi's every system tick away, like an old clock that was just fixed. "I cannot beleive everything we installed is so compatible like this. It's amazing what luck we have. Maybe this ship was just meant to be."
She walked off towards her room to await the SS. Kiroshi's launch.
Michio had just finished re-designing his room. Nice system this new ship had, that you could completely change the layout with a simple interface. For his room he had decided for a reasonably spartan outlook, plain bed, writing desk, rug. Not much really. The one thing he splashed out on, so to speak, was his weapons cabinet. He'd earlier convinced the ship to make him a pretty good imitation of an elm wardrobe, the insides of which where layered with his various weapons, his pistols, rechargers, batteries and his longsword. He was trying to get the ship to make him some other martial weapons, a kami, bo and several knives, but he'd run across some form of safety protocol that refused to let him synthesise weapons. Strangely his usual tactic of kicking the wall beneath the console hadn't made it more helpfull.
He took of his flak jacket, which he usualy wore for security, more of a habit that anything else, and hang it on the hook created soley for that purpose. He like the new ship, its gleaming edge technology that he didn't understand, and the weapons (which he did). He yawned and lay down on his newly formed bed, unyielding as he liked it. For some reason being on a new ship always made him tired.
She walked off towards her room to await the SS. Kiroshi's launch.
Michio had just finished re-designing his room. Nice system this new ship had, that you could completely change the layout with a simple interface. For his room he had decided for a reasonably spartan outlook, plain bed, writing desk, rug. Not much really. The one thing he splashed out on, so to speak, was his weapons cabinet. He'd earlier convinced the ship to make him a pretty good imitation of an elm wardrobe, the insides of which where layered with his various weapons, his pistols, rechargers, batteries and his longsword. He was trying to get the ship to make him some other martial weapons, a kami, bo and several knives, but he'd run across some form of safety protocol that refused to let him synthesise weapons. Strangely his usual tactic of kicking the wall beneath the console hadn't made it more helpfull.
He took of his flak jacket, which he usualy wore for security, more of a habit that anything else, and hang it on the hook created soley for that purpose. He like the new ship, its gleaming edge technology that he didn't understand, and the weapons (which he did). He yawned and lay down on his newly formed bed, unyielding as he liked it. For some reason being on a new ship always made him tired.
