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Futuristic Unlit IC

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Solar Daddy

Synthetic Nightmare
Supporter
"Well, I suppose if I wanted to start a crew, I'd have to do all the boring aspects of it as well," Silas said, more so to himself than anyone else. He tapped away at the data pad in his hands, filling in the blank information he had set up for today. This would be the first time his assigned crew would meet anyone else who was stationed on his ship - rightfully, their coronation day. He was waiting alongside Adira, just outside of his newly acquired ship, hoping his crew would show up on time - only ten minutes left until their designated arrival time. He filled this time by punching in the generic information needed on his tablet. "Date: January 12th, 39955, Standard Human Time. Galaxy: Sidereas. Solar System: Porphyrion. Planet: Granite." Silas let out a sigh as he leaned against one of the cargo crates. "At least it's cool and sunny out today."

Silas looked around their spaceport, in the outskirts of the metropolis Madrigal; one of the largest colonies in the Porphyrion system. Their ship sat gleaming in the sun behind them, and the path leading towards their landing pad lay empty. "Two minutes until designated meetup time," He told Adira eagerly. It had been over half a standard year since his last time on a ship, and Silas was ready to get out into the starry vacuum above them.
 
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Adira chuckled at Silas's grumbling. "You think you have paperwork? Try being the Captain on an official exploration ship, that's paperwork. Hell, being the captain of an unofficial one too!" She seemed to be in a good mood that morning, which was a wonderful sign to anyone who knew her. The weather helped, since she didn't go out in the daylight much, even on the rare times she stood on solid ground.

Adira had a tablet in her hand also, and was going over news reports for the day, as well as their flight path and contract for their first job. The new crew could be informed of that after they settled in, she figured. Seeing Silas watching the time so closely, she said, "Don't worry Burns, they'll show up. And if none of them do, we just flash my name around and get a whole new group." That was one of the advantages of being mildly famous, and somewhat infamous. She had Captained an important exploratory vessel for Waning Stars, but there were rumors of her illegal-but-moral doings while on duty. She was lucky, since many had heard of her, but few knew what she looked like, so she could just use her name to get herself a crew; they had avoided it for this bunch, but if necessary....
 
Matthias walked down a deserted road, a grenade in his right hand. He walked with the pin pulled, but the spoon still attached so it wouldn't explode. Two long columns of people, who wore traditional like clothing, stretched along the road for as far as he could see. They all sang some sort of chant in a language he didn't understand but could feel, their drums beat as one while he walked their opposite direction from a metropolis torn apart. He felt at peace but that was swept away with a powerful sense of dread. Taking a long stride Matthias broke into a full run towards the ruined city, the song weighed down upon his body, like something was trying to crush him.

Matthias stopped at an intersection when he saw someone unlike the others he had passed. He could only see what this person had on as their back was turned to him, black pants and boots with a olive drab field coat with black hair that was cut short. Matthias had followed this person here for quite some time, what felt like ages. He focused on the person “Kira” he whispered. An ear splitting screech echoed throughout the city, blasting out windows and street lights. Matthias closed his eyes and pressed his hands against his ears, when he looked up It tore out of the persons back. The deformed and disfigured entity shrieked again and charged Matthias-

The glass shattered against the wall, breathing heavily Matthias realized he had fallen asleep after his euphoric “trip” and had woken up to himself throwing his drinking glass against the wall. Looking at his watch he muttered, “Only 0227 eh?” with his equipment already packed, he laced up his boots, threw his ruck on and grabbed the duffel bag that sat by the door. Leaving the hotel, Otto took out a pack of smokes from his right pocket along with a flip lighter. The lighter combusted a flame with one stroke of the flint wheel. Exhaling the smoke, Otto placed his lighter and smokes back into his coat and continued walking as he had plenty of time to make his deadline in the next city over.

This city was like every other one he's been to, just like the planet which was named Granite, or maybe Otto has become more detached than he would like to believe. It had been a few hours since he had entered the next city from his previous one. Looking at his watch again it had stopped at 0734 but Otto knew it was later than that. He stopped in his tracks, Otto stared coldly at two people in front of a ship from fifty meters away, his body became rigid like he was about to fight. He took a moment and slowly looked over the ship before fixating his eyes back onto the two outside the ship. Walking forwards at a moderate pace, Otto approached the two, one a male, the other a female. Otto stopped before them, about seven feet away. “Silas Burns and Adira Rik?” Matthias questioned with a lifeless voice. If the two would respond to these names posted from their add, then he would would give his name, Otherwise he would immediately turn and leave. As it would be his new employers, his gaze moved back and forth between Adira and Silas as he took a couple steps forwards and drop his duffel “I am Matthias Drakovich, your tradesman” he would tell them. He extended his open hand to Adira before Silas as there was still a little bit of a gentleman within himself. His boots polished, pants ironed and his olive colored field coat restored to good condition.
 
Kepler-34-B began his day as any other day. Traveling throughout human space, he'd long since learned to deal with the inconsistent matter of time - he slept seven hours, then stayed awake until an acceptable time in the night, keeping himself awake as needed with a slow drip of energy from his Juggernaut Implants. He was unsure of how the Unblessed around him functioned until he discovered caffeine, something he stayed away from. It made him jittery.

Kepler's morning is a matter of strict ritual. Matters of hygiene, which included the removal and cleaning of his eyes one at a time in a special chemical solution, takes up most of his time before he does a status check on his various augments. Neither of these things are out of concern for what his fellow man may think: in truth, failing to be properly cleaned and functional would sully the Machine-God. Prepared for his morning prayer, he kneels before the Cog, a collapsible alloy altar, and begins a full two hours of communion with the Spark. Learning that others do not worship as he does was jarring, but Kepler has come to accept it - not all of mankind is worthy of the Spark's blessing, after all.

His morning routine done, Kepler embarked on the next leg of the day's journey. He'd arranged to be aboard an exploratory vessel after months spent on Granite working on cyber-security for a banking conglomerate. He did not like to stay any one place too long, and Granite's cool air reminded him too much of home, though it was no where near the arctic tundra he'd been built in. Packing his things took little time, few of them as there were. His personal defense weapon, a 10mm sub-machine gun, the Cog, his self-maintenance kit, a duffel bag full of real paper books, five identical bodysuits and grey robes, and his personal computer made up the lot of it. All in all, he lived out of two bags. Slinging each of them over his shoulder, he departed for the starport where he was expected to meet a Silas Burns and an Adira Rik. He'd measured the time it would take to walk there from his apartment yesterday, and left with a minute to spare. As he'd been told, showing up early made a good first impression.

He arrived exactly as he planned, precisely one minute before the designated meet-up time, and followed a moderate distance behind a black-clad Blessed. Kepler walked softly, not seeking to disturb the man as he approached their vessel and the two figures standing outside it. Hearing the man introduce himself, Kepler stood still, waiting patiently and examining the ship from a distance. Interrupting would be rude, and Kepler yearned to be seen as amicable. The other Blessed seemed cold and absent, and if Kepler's face was physically capable of communicating suspicion, it would have.
 
Kestrel looked over the spaceport as the skycar slowly arched around the outlying areas of the city, avoiding the paths of the larger planetary craft as well as intra and intersystem craft deploying from Madrigal. Thanks to the advertisement, she knew what her new vessel looked like and the sight of it brought a smile to the face of a woman who'd smiled far too little in recent years.

Beside her seat was a single duffel bag. It held a few sets of clothes, a small collection of figurines and assorted gifts given by coworkers and wellwishers. Fully half of its contents were filled up with things she hadn't owned before this week. Two years of honorable service in Granite's military had gone by swiftly enough, and in that short time she'd made a number of friends, grown close to families, and she'd bonded to some degree with her fellow soldiers. Yet the spinning weight of a planet, the vastness of an open sky, the lack of that feel of a ship under engine power...it made living feel hollow.

She yearned to be among the stars, the way she was bred to be.

When the skycar set down on a bordering landing pad, Kestrel hopped from the vehicle and swung her duffel over her shoulder. The people of Granite would go on with their lives, their families and hobbies and familiar paths they'd taken all their lives. A ship's crew would be new but they'd be crew and that was a surer connection than birth or blood. Kestrel set off down the path to the waiting ship and to its waiting captain.

The other two standing before the two in front of the ship drew her attention, for both seemed to favor open cyberaugmentation. Something rare among her own people, given the precious scarcity of advanced technology. Of course, she'd been 'improved' as well in less visible, less consensual ways.

As introductions went around, Kestrel stood at attention and said "Kestrel Cavanaugh." She tried another smile on the Captain. "Happy to be here, sir."
 
Adira smiled to herself at the sight of new crewmen. The first, Drakovich, seemed the low-down fighter type, despite his clean clothes. Definitely former military; even if she hadn't read his resume, she could tell. But even if he was the down-and-dirty type, that type was always good in a pinch. Kepler, well, she wasn't sure what to make of him. He seemed to be more robot than man at that point, and rather quiet. Or perhaps just respectful? That would be discovered soon enough. His resume had only had so much information, but she had done a little research about his people on her own time. And finally, Kestrel. That had been an interesting resume. Plenty of military and field experience, so Adira wouldn't be left with people who couldn't follow an order - that would be nice.

Adira smiled a bit and shook Matthias's hand. "Good to meet you." She looked at Kestrel and said, "At ease, no need for formalities. You'll learn soon enough that I'm more in favor of straight-forward operations." Then, since he had been there before Kestrel, Adira held her hand out to Kepler. "You're Kepler, correct?"
 
Kepler's face contorts slightly, a parody of a normal curious squint. "Formalities? This unit was merely awaiting the proper moment." He says, shrugging slightly. He eyes the outstretched hand as if examining it, then takes it in his own and shakes it. Most people did not suffer his presence, nor have the desire to touch him, even in introduction. He'd forgotten what other people felt like.

"Yes, this un--" He started, then frowned. "Apologies. I am Formal Designation Unit Kepler-34-B. But.. Kepler is sufficient, if it pleases the ship-master." Finally, he releases her hand and takes a half-step backward. "I have heard of your reputation, Miss Rik. I trust this will be a most interesting journey." He says confidently, curling his lips into something akin to a smile. "May I inspect the vessel? I find myself unfamiliar with its making."
 
Silas gave a smile as the initiates approached. "Ah they're here," He whispered to Adira. When the three of them stepped up, he addressed them each as they arrived. First, he gave Matthias the handshake he had extended. "Welcome aboard, it's nice to meet you." After this, he nodded towards Kestrel. "We're happy to have you, thank you for arriving." Then, he acknowledged Kepler and his question, especially since it had to do with his ship. "Please, inspect all you'd like. She's a Kit and Backer chassis so you know she'll survive a few hits - with some modifications by yours truly." Silas was glad he'd be able to discuss mechanics with someone on the ship, and a few moments later, said, "Adira, could you wait here for the others who still need to arrive? I'll give these guys the tour of the ship."
However due to the hollering from Richmond, Silas decided to wait a moment. "Hello, welcome to the group. We were just starting the tour." He offered a hand to the psychologist, his emotions contained. He knew Richmond well, but hoped he hadn't remembered Silas after all this time.
 
"A Kit and Backer? You'll have to show me how you resolved the issue with the coolant chambers and heat exchangers. I've heard tell that they occasionally vent excess heat into the cockpit." Kepler said, glancing at Silas. "And I, for one, would prefer our pilot not to be incinerated due to faulty design." He added, shooting another glance towards Adira. Without waiting for a response, he slipped away towards the vessel, examining it with all the reverence one would give a holy relic. On some level, the comparison was apt. Vessels capable of interstellar flight were perhaps the pinnacle of mankind's creation, and the greatest embodiment of the Spark. Few other things besides the sprawling factories of the Lathe-Worlds could compare in grandeur to the ship before him. Unappealing as it may be to the eye, Kepler could not help but experience a fleeting moment of rapture just standing next to the marvel. Hefting his bags to adjust them on his shoulders, Kepler makes his way into the ship and wanders its halls, familiarizing himself with its layout and systems. This would be his new home, if he could ever have such a thing. He may as well get used to it.
 
Making eye contact with Adria as they shook hands, he noticed the gold and silver flakes within her blue eyes, she too was augmented, though she didn't look it from the physical aspect "Very well, my skills are yours to command then" Otto replied with the same tone as before. Matthias shook Silas's hand next "I appreciate the opportunity." Looking around him as he heard others approach, there was another man there as well, heavily augmented and modified much like himself . "Kepler-34-B" or simply "Kelper" that's who he had introduced himself as. Otto's thoughts would be empty for now as he would keep his distance. Two more had arrived with one a female and the other a male, Kestrel Cavanaugh and Dr. Richmond a psychologist. Matthias didn't particularly like psychologists, especially after his augmentation. He saw them as two faced, one side gave the textbook bullshit and the other gave whatever data they could find to whoever had the most money, perhaps Otto was just paranoid or maybe he simply didn't like them. However the man's name rang a bell but Matthias couldn't remember what from.

Following Silas, Kestrel and Kelper into the ship for the tour Matthias would silently look over the interior for anything that could need repair or replacement. The sooner he could start working the better. This would be the first solid job within two years and sitting around with just his thoughts nearly taxed his mind to the point of his own life. It was a relief that this had fell through and his appreciation for this opportunity was greater than his employers would know. Otto was impressed of the ship Silas and Adria had, he had been aboard many ships before but none had the capability of one like this and it would definitely need to be taken car of properly to ensure the mission, what ever it would be, would be completed safely.
 
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CILAD'HIEL "CI" MARTINEZLocation: Landing Dock | Interactions: Dragongal Dragongal

With an audible sweep, a sleek looking hover bike landed a few meters away from the group assembled in front of the ship. It whipped up the air around it, causing azure tinted hair to whirl around in the wind. Gracefully, a slender figure slid off the bike as she unwrapped her arms from the waist of the man she'd spent the past few days with.

"Until next time?" the man asked coyly while Ci unhooked her helmet and tossed it back to him. "We'll see," she teased with a wink and a mischievous smile. "As always, thanks for the ride, Cellius." With only a nod in response, the man sped off and was gone as quickly as he'd came. This left Ci to toss her surprisingly small pack over her shoulder and approach her new crew.

She noticed the group boarding the ship, with the exception of the captain. "I know I'm a tad late," she began as she neared them with sauntering steps, "but I hope you weren't planning on leaving without me." Ci extended a meticulously manicured, lilac-skinned hand towards her new captain for introductions. "I'm Ci Martinez. Though, I imagine you could have guessed that," she quipped, alluding to the fact that she happened to be the only alien in this human-based crew (even if she was only half bred). "It's a pleasure."


>
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Eager to boast about his new ship, Silas responded to Kepler, "I rerouted the heat exhaustion to the starboard vent closest to the cockpit. That way it not only should make the cockpit less dengerous, but reduces the possibility of the core systems overheating in total." Silas looked around their ship with a smile plastered on his face. This was his, and this crew was his. Although he didn't think of himself as the leader, he was the one who brought them together. It was more than he'd ever done in his past. He was never a leader before, and Silas always kept to the rulebook. Somewhere along the line though, he dropped the care and became his own self - he became the repair boy for his own crew, and that was enough for him.

He guided the group to the central hallway, where most of the rooms were accessed through. "This is communal living space. Down that way," He pointed towards the aft of the ship, "Is the gathering hub. Whether you want to just hang out, or if we have a mission briefing, it'll be held there. Along this hallway are all of the bedrooms and function rooms as well. Such as the access to the engine room and armory. As you probably can guess, the cockpit is in the other direction of the hub. Do Adira a favor and don't crowd it up if you can help it. Lastly, we have enough bedrooms for everyone on the crew to have their own rooms, but do remember they're rather small to fit everyone's separate rooms. They're good for little more than sleeping. Any questions?"
 
The collection of hired crew was...eclectic. About what she might have expected, honestly. In her years serving in Granite's military, she'd had deployments near space ports and the opportunity to meet crews from various starships. Unlike the Mutters Spiral, it seemed most ships out here in the Frontier were crewed by people without strong ties to a place, a government or even a common belief. The experience had been utterly foreign to her, and the reality of living with such varied personalities would surely bring more surprises, but she'd had enough time among the planetborn to accept a wider range of expression.

Silently listening to the quips, introductions and questions, Kestrel smiled several times but was content to watch rather than join in. At least until the tour got started. She hefted her duffel easily and followed along. The actual tour was, of course, far more revealing than the cursory ship specs that'd come with the advertised job. Kestrel had seen worse. She'd also seen better. At least the layout was intuitive, with clear design for the group experience instead of the strange segregation planetborn peoples deliberately sought for themselves in their homes and in their offices. Not that the Mutters Spiral hadn't had its share of privacy. But in her experience, the planetborn spent a lot more time thinking of themselves than the people she'd grown up with.

"Mind if I inspect the armory?" she asked Silas when he reached the end of the tour. "It'd be useful to know what you have on hand. If you don't have an inventory, I'll make one up for you."
 
Adira watched Silas lead the group off, then turned to the noise of a motor bike. She analyzed Ci every moment as she approached - her confidence, the flirtatiousness towards the man she was with, her manicure and mannerisms, everything. It only took the blink of an eye for Adira to catch all the little details and measure Ci up. This was something instinctual to Adira at that point - she hardly could have stopped herself from assessing Ci. Not that she wanted to.

Adira smiled politely. "Welcome, Miss Martinez. It's good to have you here. I'm Adira Rik, your pilot and formal Captain. Silas, who is leading the tour, is the mechanic and owner of our ship, as well as second in command. Feel free to join in on the tour and make yourself at home." Maybe Ci would be an interesting person to get to know - she clearly had an interesting background, and would be an asset on the ship, if she was what her files had shown. Hopefully their doctor could keep up with her being a different race, as sometimes that caused problems in a medical bay. But that could be dealt with in the future.
 
Otto walked a few paces behind the others but still within a distance to hear what Silas had to say, his steps routinely silent which had been something he acquired during his time with Waning Stars. Matthias was pleased to know that everyone had their own space, and a small room wasn't something new to him, all he needed was a place where he could escape for a little while. After Silas informed everyone about the lay out Matthias would move away down the corridor and finding the room on the left, third from last, to his liking. He paused and looked back over his shoulder at the group who was still gathered around Silas, his pupils dilated and contracted as his subconscious began its pulling at his mind ."I better find something to do, guess Ill unpack some equipment to keep the edge off....hell I might just go to work."

Otto dropped his duffel and ruck against the opposite corner from the entrance, there was a bed and a desk with in as well as a chair for the desk which suited him perfectly along with a small closet. The duffel opened with a distorted sound, Otto began pulling out several hard cases and set them gently upon the bed each with a bio-metric scanner for a locking system. All in all there was six black colored one foot by one foot boy ten inch hard cases, one red two by two by two foot and two green, three by two by eight foot cases. Otto went back for his ruck and pulled out several sets of clothing, most of which were informal and formal attire along with his old service uniform, each ironed and pressed. He hung them into the closet and went back to grab his work clothes consisting of several tank tops and four jumpsuits. Otto folded them and put his work clothes on the back corner of the bed and then went for the red case. He placed the case on top the desk and extended his index finger. A bottom portion of his index finger clicked and the "skin" slid back revealing a soft, rubber like sensor underneath. Otto pushed his finger down onto the box's scanner. The case's locks made a light metallic smack as they unlocked. Within the case was a tool belt and a decent amount of tools though it wasn't as much as he wanted, surely the ship had extra other wise he would gladly buy his own. Changing out of the clothes he had on with a tank top and a jumpsuit. Otto then tied the upper part of the jumpsuit around his waist with the sleeves.

One by one Otto opened the other boxes and took another inventory to make sure he counted and marked everything correctly before he arrived. the first six black hard cases contained a multitude of equipment for blasting and demo, det cord, primers, fuses, blasting caps, detonators, wireless detonators etc. Next was the two green cases, the first contained roughly eighty pounds of composition C-4 and the second had a Zastaba CZN-M22 bulpup rifle along with a Jericho 941 custom 10mm pistol. Otto didn't have much ammunition for the rifle and pistol but he did have three magazines loaded up for each. With time to kill Otto began cleaning his M22.
 
Kepler was disappointed to have to attend to the others, having much preferred the opportunity to view things on his own. Pacing mattered to him, and to ignore the majesty of this vessel by traveling so quickly through it was tantamount to heresy to him. Every inch of steel and wiring was sacred in its own right, though these others clearly did not understand. The speed with with they moved along forced Kepler to pay attention to other things, namely, his crew mates.

Silas intrigued him more than anything else. He was evidently the ship's engineer, but lacked much of the cybernetics that would aid him in his work. Clearly, he was competent enough to get a Kit and Backer running effectively, and his solution to the overheating problem was ingenious, so he very much found him likable. Adira seemed pleasant, but seemed deeper than what he'd been able to gather at a glance. She would likely remain a curiosity - she seemed more human than he might be comfortable with, or perhaps more human than would be comfortable with him. At least Silas may find something redeemable in Kepler's steel soul.

Kestrel was unworthy of note. He'd met killers before, he'd killed before, and he knew a soldier when he saw one. A thermal scan of her had resulted in an oddity which suggested she was not entirely of the flesh, but nothing else significant could be discerned. He would trust her to kill, and hope that she could put him down if it became necessary. Though there was another combatant aboard, he judged him far less likely of being able to pull it off. Otto, as far as Kepler was concerned, was a walking hazard. Everything about his approach to the ship had set off warning lights for Kepler, and his silent departure from the group to seek out privacy made it all the worse. The man made Kepler look unblessed by comparison, and his behavior was discomforting. On Borealis, units like Otto were disassembled sooner rather than later.

Finally, the pair of doctors and the half-breed. The medical sort Kepler judged from a strictly utilitarian perspective, in that he may prove useful in the event harm came to the passengers. The psychologist was clearly blessed, at least to someone with the optical capacity Kepler had, which certainly earned points from Kepler's perspective, but whether or not he was trained to deal with someone such as himself was uncertain as of yet. As for the half-breed, she was an unknown factor. He was not one to seek empathy, but he supposed she would be the most likely to display it towards him. In being clearly distinct from the rest, they might have something in common. Whether or not that would matter, he could not yet tell.

Kepler ran his hand over the interior hull plating, eyes focusing on a speck of dust invisible to the naked eye. With a tender flick, he brushed it off before glancing down the hallway lined with bedrooms. "If I may." He said softly, turning his eyes on Silas. "This unit would prefer a room on the exterior hall. In the event of a hull breach, this one is far more likely to survive a few moments of exposure. If we are to be boarded by way of the landing ramp, it is also most fitting that I reside next to it." He elaborated, finishing the statement by flicking his wrists. On cue, the mono-blades concealed within his forearms sprung out, gleaming in the light for a few moments before sinking back into their concealed state.
 
Silas nodded his head at Kepler's idea. "Smart thinking, you'll have one of the hull rooms." He looked around at the group, noticing one was late. He put faith in Adira to bring him in if he did show, and carried on with the tour. "Engine room is downstairs, while the armory and med bay are on the other side of the middle row of rooms. Feel free to familiarize yourselves with the ship, just don't go breaking things. We'll have a ship meeting in the hub in 30. Any questions, come to me or Adira. Feel free to use this time to get acquainted, or set up your workspace accordingly. " Silas remained lingering around the entrance to the ship, both to be accessible for any questions the crew may have for him, as well as to wait for Adira to board the ship, hopefully with the doctor they were missing. Burns stuffed a hand into his pocket and began to fidget with the gears he left in it, using it as both a way to calm his anxiety and entertain himself as he waited for the crew to explore their new ship for the next half an hour.
 
Ci could feel Adira sizing her up, not just from her Aulean gifts but from the way Adira's eyes seemed to take her in. This was a good sign. Ci loathed to work for captains without perception or wit - they bored her.

"Thank you for the warm welcome," responded Ci as she flashed her practiced and award winning smile at her new captain. The words dripped from her mouth like honey, a carefully constructed and subtle air of sweetness about them. "I believe I will join them and get acquainted with the ship, but I'm sure I will see you very soon." Ci brushed almost imperceptibly past Adira as she spoke, choosing not to wait for a response but to leave her flirtatious banter lingering in the air behind her.

Just within the ship's walls she encountered Silas fidgeting with something in his pockets. Taking the chance to catch him slightly off guard, she teased, "Have you got something there? Or are you just happy to see me?" Ci presented Silas with a coquettish smile, hoping to put him at ease. In her experience, most beings (human males, in particular) felt gratified by a little flirtation, especially in the work place. Though Ci had a strict personal rule against crew mate relations, that didn't mean she couldn't use a little flirtation to grease the organizational gears, so to speak.
 
As the crew mingled, Kestrel dropped her duffel bag off in her quarters and proceeded directly to the armory. A part of her questioned the choice, given the benefits of making a good first impression as well as witnessing the initial interactions between new crewmates to anticipate who would function well and who would function...less well. But in all likelihood, the captain would want to get underway soon. There would be ample time in space to get acquainted with her crewmates. If there were any glaring omissions in the armory, this was the time to address it.

The tall blonde familiarized herself with the armory door, inspected its security system and closed public access. Presumably, the Captain and the Ship's Engineer (or whatever role Silas played here) already had their own access. She left entries available for imprinting for the other crew before satisfying herself that anyone boarding the ship would have to cut their way in to get at the weapon's locker.

Stepping inside, Kestrel inspected the somewhat sparse interior with a critical eye. The vessel lacked a proper military comportment but, then, this was an explorer-class ship and not an interceptor. Half a dozen rifles, split between kinetic ammunition, a proper laser rifle and two plasma rifles formed the base assault gear. The handguns were better. Though Kestrel didn't recognize the manufacturer, the muzzle design and a brief inspection of its kinetic ammo block spoke of its intentional design for use within the confines of ship's corridors. Planetborn often approached warfare with a kill-everything perspective that endangered themselves as much as their adversaries. At least this crew could be armed without spacing themselves in a gun fight.

Several sets of armor looked reasonable enough, if basic. Truthfully, it was better stocked than it might have been. As it was, there was room for improvement. But that would depend on funding from the jobs they took...and interest of the crew in the jobs they might take.

Satisfied, Kestrel stepped out of the armory and checked her chronometer. Looked like it was time for that crew meeting after all.
 
Kepler remained with the gathered crew until some dispersed, making a conscious effort to not be the first or even second to leave the gathering. He was well aware of the way organics viewed him, and the suspicion anti-social behavior might bring upon him. Though he wasn't particularly concerned with what they thought of him, he was concerned with being honest, which meant portraying himself appropriately. Once he found it acceptable to part ways with the others, he took his luggage to his assigned quarters. As he'd hoped, everything was bolted down. Of course ships provided artificial gravity, but that didn't keep things from sliding a bit if the vessel happened to pull a spin. Conveniently, everything in his quarters provided ample security for his personal belongings, as the storage spaces were lockable.

His one chief concern was the viewport window, a situation he was wholly uncomfortable with were they to come under fire. Glass, even the strongest, would not stand up to enemy fire like a bulkhead would. He'd have to point this out to Silas, and see if they could find time along their journey to remove that window and replace it with something sturdier. He did not enjoy the idea of all of his belongings, and himself, being sucked out a crack in the window pane and turned to bloody paste in the process.

With his things rapidly unpacked and arranged, the Cog included, he made his way to the Hub for the crew meeting. He carried no time-keeping device, but had no need of one. His internal clock was, while not exact to the second, nearly so. In trying to make a computer out of a man, his creators had certainly succeeded on that front. His hands folded together in front of him in an almost prayer-like posture, Kepler emerged from his quarters into the hallway and came to the Hub, standing off to the side of the room in silence to await the others.
 
The weapon was clean, perhaps even immaculate. It was only a few minutes after Matthias had disassembled his PDW that he would put it back together. Before returning the weapon back to its case the his craving clenched it's mental hands around Matthias. It was abrupt, though he should have seen it coming. Matthias snatched his ruck from the ground and quickly pulled out a large plastic jug. It was a thick plastic and could carry one hundred and ninety two ounces though it was only a little less than halfway full. He placed it upon the table, Opening the jug to reveal a dark blue powder. Matthias froze trying to resist the urge just this one time. He thought that maybe he could socialize without a strong psychoactive drug. This would not be the case as "he" would grab the teaspoon scoop and quickly inhale the powder. The high Matthias would get from the powder would activate in around a minute or so as he was used to the substance. just as fast as he took out the jug, Matthias returned it in the same fashion. Turning about he saw Kepler walk pass his room door. He grabbed a metal container with his smokes from his coat pocket along with a silver flip lighter with an inscription on it. Matthias took another deep breath, not to calm himself but to activate the drug faster.

Matthias stepped out of his quarters, shutting the door behind him and walked towards the Hub. A warm, calm sensation took over his mind as it had always done, now Matthias was in a state where he could socialize and not be a total prick. However the one thing he would not be able to do would be to talk in depth about his past, not like he would anyways. To him it was best not to get attached. Entering the Hub with a slow, observant pace with his hands in his pockets, Matthias watched as Kestral emerged from the armory before actually stepping into the Hub. When he did his head snapped towards the direction of Kepler, Matthias glared at Kepler for a second before giving the man a composed wave of his right hand which was at mid height. Kepler didn't put him on edge, but he was quiet and observant something he saw in himself. The only thing Matthias wondered about the man so far was how much he was augmented. Perhaps they had more in common, or the only similarities between the two was the augmentation.

The Hub was larger than he expected complete with a kitchen, bar even the Armory was here and enough seating for the entire crew and then some. With the high in nearly full swing he took a seat in the middle of a couch and lit a cigarette he was brought back to his time serving Waning Stars, how on down time his squad mates had a similar set up and would blow off steam in the common area or the gym. The memory made him feel again. But during this altered state, it felt good, as long as he didn't sleep before it was over that is. Matthias continued smoking, ashing in the packs reservoir designed particularly for that purpose. It would be a few more minutes before everyone would be in the Hub as it seemed the crew had settled in for the most.
 
Adira rolled her eyes as Ci passed. Flirtation was not a good way to earn the Captain's favor. In her life, Adira had never been in a relationship of any kind, and had only rarely wanted one. Relationships were chores, and required vulnerability, a skill Adira was quite inept at. Unfortunately for Ci, Adira regarded flirts as suspicious, and so Adira already had a bit of mistrust toward Ci.

She waited a bit longer, but decided that their last crewmemeber was not going to arrive as expected. It was of no matter; they had a doctor anyway. This way they had one more room for storage. Now, though, she had to catch up with the group and check in, then they could get going.

She walked into the ship and paused to take mental note of where everyone was. Kestrel was by the armory; likely she had already inspected the inside of it. Adira tried to avoid any early favoritism, but she rather liked Kestrel - a fighter was someone she could get along with. Now what mattered was how much Kestrel cared about rules.

Silas was Ci's captive, and Adira wanted to remedy that. Adira knew why Silas played with the gears in his pocket - he had never told her, but she knew he was anxious much of the time, especially around people. In hopes of preventing any embarrassment to him, Adira ran interference and said, "Silas, are we all prepared to go? No final fixes?" She put a hand on his shoulder as she passed, and showed him her usual wry half-smile. "I'm heading to the Hub. I'm pretty sure our last crew member isn't coming."

In the Hub, Adira encountered Matthias and Kepler. Matthias was resting in the Hub - nothing of too much interest there, except that he must have felt pretty comfortable pretty quickly. Strange, but maybe he was just used to changing ships.

Kepler was just waiting by the wall. He seemed quite out of place, and Adira felt pity for him because of that. Perhaps the mostly-metal-man wasn't unfathomable at all.
 
Kestrel didn't quite follow in the Captain's wake but she certainly headed the same direction. Naturally she sealed up the armory before leaving the registration setting active. At some point, she'd need to have each crew member access it to get their idents recorded properly but it could wait since they were in a safe port. And this wasn't a ship of war, after all.

The closed in walls of the Hub were a welcome relief from the open ended sky she'd endured on Madrigal for the past few years. Humming from the life support, the clean ionized scent of scrubbers at work, was more familiar to her than sunlight. Dropping into a seat, Kestrel started to smile again as bits of her relaxed that she hadn't even known were tense.

Matthias sat across from her, smoking a cigarette and looking like he'd already settled in for the day. Maybe a little too settled. Kestrel's eyes narrowed slightly. Not her business, though, as long as it didn't get anyone hurt. By contrast, Adira had just stepped in the room and she seemed the opposite of relaxed. There was a ready energy to the Captain that Kestrel approved of. A crew needed clear direction, or at least a clear, common purpose and it fell to a commander to communicate that. So far, so good.

Kepler...she didn't know what to make of Kepler yet. So she patted the seat next to her and beckoned him over. "Have a seat and relax, you're making me nervous," she said in a teasing tone.
 
Kepler has always been quite comfortable standing and thinking. His creators, however, had insured that he could not zone out without being noticed. His ocular implants, upon going without focusing for more than a few seconds at a time, enter a standby mode where his vision goes black and white. Noticeably, however, his mechanical irises separate to clean themselves of any biological or external residue. This was the state he was in when Kestrel called to him, and in a frantic whirl of motion his eyes correct themselves.

"My apologies, Master Cavanaugh. This one did not mean to unnerve you." He replied, bowing his head slightly. "But this one would prefer to stand, unless it is imperative for putting you at ease. The.. jesting tone suggests to this one that it is not." Kepler continued, lightening his own voice in a feeble attempt to sound as polite as he hoped. Altered vocal chords made expressing himself to people unlike himself difficult. Recently, he'd begun a series of vocal exercises in an attempt to garner more control over his voice. His limited tonal range was a stark improvement from his previous state.

Internally, he chided himself for the choice of words. He'd been informed long ago that 'this unit' was a strange way to refer to oneself away from his home world. It had taken him years to overcome it enough to consider Kepler a name instead of an object, and longer to even begin breaking the habit of calling himself a unit. 'This one' was an improvement, or so he'd been told, but he reminded himself to make a conscious effort to work on it more.
 
Kestrel stared at the cyborg and realized she'd made up her mind on whether or not there was enough human in there to still call him that. Her face lightened into a real smile and she brushed a lock of blonde hair that'd escaped her braid back off her face.

"That's fine, it's not imperative you keep me company. Just thought it'd be easier to socialize a little, since we're all getting to know each other. And call me Kestrel. Master's something you'd call a man, Mistress is something you'd call only a certain kind of woman, and let's face it. The only person with a rank on this ship, that I know of, is the Captain. If she wants rank and title, Cavanaugh it is, but if or until that happens, let's just go with Kestrel."

"How about you, tall, dark and distracted?" she asked Matthias, leaning back into the cushions while she smirked slightly, wondering if the man actually was in an altered state of conscious or if he was routinely that mellow.
 

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