Futuristic Unlit IC

[Epiphany]

Kestrel huffed slightly as she hauled the crate across the landscape. The incoming ships added a time sensitivity to all of this, even more so than just having stolen a crate. She ground her teeth slightly at how quickly Adira and Silas' were up for dumping the crate. This was the whole reason they'd come here! On one hand, it was nice to have commanding officers that prioritized lives over loot. But that meant it fell on her to avoid putting them in the position of having to choose. And the best way she could do that was by making good time and getting the crate to where it needed to go.

So, for long minutes, her concentration of the surrounding environment dwindled to a narrow focus as she trusted her team would watch out for her. Instead, all of that concentration went into hustling with the crate. Iron-carbon bones and muscles took the weight but carrying something many times heavier than her body weight required a lot of rapid adjustment. Staying focused let her manage the crate and still make remarkably good time.

Seeing the Ambivalence in sight, Kestrel nodded once at Silas' direction and huffed her way towards the ship. Now that they were close, Kestrel spared a little attention for the drones she'd left behind. The micro-printer attached to her belt could fabricate more of the thumb-sized devices given some raw material. And frankly, she didn't have that much time for them to fly back from where she'd left them over those offices, providing surveillance. Instead, the brave little machines could do one last service for them.

Through her implant, she sent telemetric instructions to the hovering drones to congregate outside the office door. Then, one by one, she directed them to overload and collide with the door. If anyone out there was trying to track energy signatures, each spike would look like a weapon's discharge. And if the half dozen managed to actually damage the door, it could very well trigger any sensory or alarm systems not already set off.

"Good work, my little friends," she said wistfully to herself. Then Kestrel put all of her attention back on getting the crate onto their ship.

 

[Vudukudu]

Surging down the staircase, robes billowing behind him, Kepler began the Litany of Protection. He hadn't been spotted yet, but he suspected that was soon to change. They had figured out the comms tower was the likely source of the issue, and a patrol of three was headed this way. Down and round the spiral staircase he went, the Litany rolling first in his mind and then in his throat.

From the weakness of the mind, Spark protect us
From the lies of the Antipath, circuit preserve us
From the rage of the Beast-flesh, iron protect us
From the temptations of the body, silica cleanse us
From the ravages of the destroyers, anima shield us
From this rotting cage of bio-matter
Machine God set us free

A hail of bullets rips into the wall behind him, and only by sheer luck does he have a corner to dance about for cover. The men coming for the base of the stairs are beneath him, and instead of confronting them head on, Kepler throws himself over the railing.

There is no truth in flesh,only betrayal
There is no strength in flesh,only weakness
There is no Constancy in flesh,only decay
There is no certainty in flesh but death

The guards don't turn upward in time to see the swirling mass of robes and blades falling towards them, and Kepler hits the ground behind them. As he rises, his right -arm blade punches outward, cleaving from ankle to knee and severing the limb. His pistol sprays a hail of needles from his left hand, most splintering on armor or missing completely before two find purchase on their target. The third man wheels around in time to fire, but Kepler manages to jam an arm under the barrel and lift it to send the shots skyward. His right hand punches into the guard's torso, and his blade slides clean through a lung and out the back end before snapping back into its holster. The man's rifle will come in handy, and Kepler stows his pistol before picking it up and checking the ammo counter. Twenty five isn't much.

Before he can bend down to pull another magazine off a body, the first guard, still screaming over his bloody stump, puts a round in Kepler's back. It pings off his force field, but the force still sends him stumbling. Dropping to one knee, he pumps five rounds into the prone guard before rising and running for the cover of the nearest building. More are coming based on the shouting and movement across the compound, and there isn't much time.

From the weakness of the mind, Spark protect us
From the lies of the Antipath, circuit preserve us
From the rage of the Beast-flesh, iron protect us
From the temptations of the body, silica cleanse us
From the ravages of the destroyers, anima shield us
From this rotting cage of bio-matter
Machine God set us free

The rest of his retreat is staggered, bolting from rock to rock as his pursuers splinter his cover with lasers and bullets. He'd been forced to take a somewhat circuitous route back towards the ship, and the next stretch of open ground is looking like it'll be too much. Nonetheless, he takes off running once his shields have recharged from their latest beating. Looking forward, he sees the bright flash of a laser's muzzle ahead, and it takes a moment for him to process he isn't dead. Instead, someone behind him appears to have taken the hit, and using his implanted magnification he can glimpse D-A1 in the cover of the crags. With a bit of covering fire, Kepler manages to roll into a small pit in time to evade the next hail of fire.

"Move." D-A1's instructs, apparently confident in Kepler's chances. He clambers out of the pit and scrambles the first few feet before rising to a run, and just as he gets to the crags the heat wave and acrid smell of a laser bolt overwhelms his senses. When he turns, D-A1's face is a molten crater, synth-blood and liquefied silica bubbling out of the hole. The android's limbs twitch briefly, and Kepler can't tear his eyes away from the death throes of the simulacrum. As if that wasn't punishment enough, the next shot punches clean through his shield, searing the skin on his forehead and burning the flesh and steel of his cheek. That's enough to jolt him back to his senses and trigger his automatic adrenal implants, and he tears off through the crags towards the ship.

 

[Gradous13]

Otto had taken Kestrel's right side, using his body as cover in case they began taking fire. They finally stared their egress out of the AO and towards the Ambivalence. He watched high and low for any contact, his weapon ready to eliminate an combatants as the group moved within the darkness that the planet provided. The crags ave them excellent concealment and cover from the sights of the enemy and since there formations were steep he wasnt worried about an ambush, especially since Kepler cut the enemy's communications. When Kestrel entered the path set by Silas, Otto took rear guard in the chances any Icarus soldiers caught on and tried to follow the team though the rock formations. Otto let he gap grow about ten meters in case he needed to stall enemy movement, however he wasn't stationary and matched pace again, still keeping the gap.

Halfway through the rout, which should have allowed Kestrel, Adira, Lydia and Silas to clear the crags. A small team of Icarus soldiers ran up around on of the bends, Otto opened fire, the first man dropped dead and then the second, Otto bound back, now within eye sight of the ship. The third soldier got into cover before Otto could kill him but the fourth was not so lucky with two shots from Otto making their mark on the mans upper chest. Sudden movement from his left caught Otto's attention, he swung his weapon around to see Kepler moving fast towards the ship, though their newest member wasn't with him. Otto went back to the target he had before him.

The soldier in cover took his chance and fired at Otto, the round hitting Otto in the head but ricocheted of his helmet. Otto layed down fire to suppress the man and broke contact, retreating back into the Ambivalence right after Kepler, his helmet's HUD now flashing "Caution, Integrity Damage in the lower left corner. Otto key'd his comms "We've been followed, get us out!" he shouted as a few more soldiers came into view, Otto fired a few more rounds and began closing the door when another bolt struck the helmet which absorbed most of the punishment but the area that was struck before blew apart. Otto planted his right foot back as the force almost knocked him back. With the door shut Otto turned to Kepler "You good?" he asked as his HUD flickered in and out, the caution turning into a large warning over lay before the HUD failed. What Otto hadn't realized was the side of his head had began smoking from the residual effects of the bolt strike. The exposed side of his head looked burned and gashed with a blackened and blue steel look to it. The nanites had taken immense damage to the point they could not repair themselves or send neurological signals to Otto's brain, thus unable to tell him something was wrong...

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas helped guide Kestrel through the increasingly distraught situation of having the entire mining area searching for them. It was clear that the orbiting ships above had been tipped off from the lack of comms, but luckily they had no idea where they could be due to their lack of communication. Silas had his weapon at the ready, taking lead for Lydia, Kestrel, Adira and Otto. Meeting up with Otto on their way to the ship, now only a few meters away, Silas noticed the lack of their robotic companion. He feared the worst, and the look Kepler gave him, despite being mostly emotionless, gave him clear signals. He decided to wait to ask until they were all safe.

Clearing the landing zone, Silas activated the cargo lift when everyone was on. A few shots rang past them, with one striking Silas in the side, causing him to stutter and almost fall off the rising platform. He held his composure though and fired at the Icarus soldiers attempting to keep them from leaving. Once the lift was set in place inside the ship, Silas held his side and began barking orders. "Kestrel, set the crate down anywhere. Adira, get us out of here, now! Lydia, prep the med bay." He pulled his hand away from his side to inspect the wound, blood gushing down his hip. It didn't seem fatal in any way, but he'd rather not die from being too careless.

 

[Dragongal]

Adira was glad that she had her gun in hand, as they started coming under fire more than anticipated. Well, more than their plan had anticipated, but Adira hadn't had too much faith in that. She stayed near Kestrel, since their soldier couldn't hold a gun while carrying that crate. Because the terrain was difficult, Adira would keep ahead to peak around corners or over low ridges. She head the sound of gunfire behind them near Otto, but he seemed capable enough to handle it.

Nearer to the ship, she waited for Kestrel to get the package aboard, but had to duck as a shot hit the metal plating by her head. Adira spun around and shot at the visible enemy, forcing them to take cover before she scrambled into the ship, passing Otto as she started moving toward the front of the ship. She stopped to open a panel by the bay door and flip a few switches Silas had installed to give them a boost in the case of a cold start-up such as this. But the sight of blood, blue, and silver caught her as she passed Otto, and she realized he was hurt. Why didn't that seem to phase him...? It suddenly struck her that he couldn't feel it. Whether he was just too shocked to feel it or something was wrong with his nerves, she didn't know. "Otto! Get to the med bay!"

In the split second it took for her to say that, more shots rang out, and she spun around to see Silas gripping his side. After a half second of hesitation, she ran over, grabbed his collar, and shot a few rounds out of the barely open doors as she pulled him behind the metal wall just before the bay door closed. She paused at the sight of him bleeding, but then turned and ran to the bridge, flipping a few switches and making the engines roar to cacaphonous life.

 

[Epiphany]

The only good thing about being stuck with cargo duty was that the crate itself covered her from fire. At least from the flank. Guns went off and she resisted flinching only through long, hard discipline that she couldn't face the fight herself. A Cavanaugh was literally born for battle, at least the battles that needed to be fought on behalf of those she was sworn to protect. The best thing she could do was get the cargo to where it needed to go.

With Otto behind, Adira ahead, Kestrel kept up the face until the ship's ramp rose in view. She ducked her head reflexively and hunched down, tilting the crate to better clear the lip, feeling her iron-carbon bones and muscles bear the shift in the strain. And then it was in. Despite the strain, despite the fatigue of hustling such mass for such distance, she didn't yield to the temptation to just drop it. Instead Kestrel bore it to the far end of the cargo hold and slid it into place, locking it down with restraints.

Once her arms were free, the soldier drew out her rifle that'd been slung across her back and poking into her ribs the whole journey. Scurrying back down the ramp, Kestrel dropped to one knee and lay down fire to cover her crewmates.

At least until everyone was aboard. Once Adira raced for the cockpit, Kestrel just stared at Otto and his smoking head before grabbing him by the arm. "Good work out here," she said swiftly, fiercely, feeling the same adrenaline he probably did. "You took a hit, though. Let's get you patched up." And she escorted him to the med bay, if he was willing to go. With a glance back at Lydia and Kepler, she said, "Hell I'm not sure which of you is better at it but the man needs some help!"

 

[Vudukudu]

Reaching the ship, his lungs still burning from one accidental inhalation of the toxic fumes pouring out of D-A1's ruined skull, Kepler had not once looked backward. There'd been a few shots, but the jagged narrows of the crags had blocked line of sight most of the chase and his pursuers seemed to have lost track of him. At Otto's question, he nodded confidently, apparently unfazed by his own minor injuries and the death of a crew member. D-A1 didn't die, after all; machines never lived in the first place."This unit remains operational. It would, however, recommend you attend to your own cranial injury." He replied, pointing one purposeful finger at Otto's damaged cheek.

Gripping a handhold near the entrance ramp with his left hand, Kepler's right squeezed the trigger of his needler at a fast rhythm, emptying its magazine in the direction of the enemy. It was hardly an effective suppression weapon, given its nearly silent firing and lack of tracers or notable projectile impacts, but it still stood small odds of landing a hit and dropping a target alongside Otto and Kestrel's own barrages. When the door closed, his pistol returned to its holster with a few almost mechanical motions. The sound of Master Cavanaugh's voice, however, jerked his attention from the shut bay door to the distressed-seeming soldier. His neck snapped toward her, his head rotating just slightly further than it biologically ought to like some sort of owl.

"This unit specializes in computer science and cybernetics. Master Drakovich's injuries are not this unit's concern." He replied emphatically, more out of protest at being wrongly categorized than any genuine lack of care for Otto's injuries. Carefully and precisely, his left hand pointer finger indicates Lydia.

 

[Gradous13]

The bay sealed shut, Silas's voice rang out, giving out orders with haste. Otto was about to move to the man, seeing Silas clutching his wound but Adira took his attention who shouted for him to get to the med bay. Otto cocked his head back a bit as to him, nothing was wrong except that his helmet was damaged. He felt his arm being pulled by Kestrel and he planted himself firmly to the deck while Kestrel tried to continue moving "No." he said with a stern voice, gently taking her hand of his arm so he could remove his head gear. "Silas is in more need" Otto turned the helmet around and held it away from the left side of his head, using the the right lens to observe the damage. It was more extensive than what he realized, the left half of his face had reverted to a blank state, like a blank canvas hung on a wall, lifeless, while the right functioned normally. The impacted area had a broad gash from his mid jaw and continued above and passed a inch or so beyond his ear. The area continued to smolder until Otto pressed his hand against the area "My, wounds, are superficial, Silas is the priority" Though he played it off calmly he was furious. The face was a pain in the ass to repair, a process that he hated and this would require removal and a several hours to fix...Maybe fix.

 

[Dragongal]

The time it took for Adira to get the ship running enough for it to take off was enough for Icarus soldiers to start surrounding the ship. She was cursing as she hit every switch she could think of that could possibly help them get off the ground faster. Through the ship's comms, she said, "Everyone hold on to something!"

The ship lurched, suddenly off the ground and hovering for a moment before going straight up to the atmosphere. The Icarus soldiers who had been too close were likely fried by the exhaust heat. Good riddance, Adira figured. They made it into the atmosphere quickly, then out into open space, and Adira immediately began evasive maneuvers so that if ships were sent after them, they would be harder to track. She was unceremoniously leaning over the control board and hitting buttons, switches, and controls as quickly as she could think. This whole time, she had the ship going about as fast as it could. They would pay for it later, but at least they would be alive later. Hopefully.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Throughout most of the rest of the ordeal, Lydia was fairly quiet. She wasn’t the leader, and so far—thank fuck—nothing in her jurisdiction had occurred.

And just as she thought this, Otto took a bullet to the side of his head.

Lydia had read his medical file, so she understood why the gash started smoking, but it was no less jarring.

‘Oh god, oh fuck, that’s weird as shit,’ Her eyes were flickering yellow. But apparently, Otto was still operational, and didn’t even appear to notice, and he wouldn’t bleed out, so Lydia supposed that repairs could wait until they got to the medbay. She didn’t have the technical tools out here with her for that anyway. Regardless, as they continued, she scanned the wound as best she could. And then Silas was hit.

‘Oh. My. God.’

As soon as they were to the bay, Lydia ran ahead. In getting to the medbay, she hit a few walls turning corners. Still, she got there, and was able to prepare several gauze pads by the time she heard the ship’s doors close. She hurried back out to where the group now stood.

‘Otto! Medbay. Now.’ She jabbed a finger in the direction she had just come. ‘Silas.’ She handed him the gauze. ‘Pressure on the wound. If you can walk, then hurry up. If you can’t, I’ll help you.’

Silas gripped his side to try and keep from ruining his gear with blood stains, but overall wasn’t too worried about it. He nodded to Lydia, saying, “Otto’s head has a pretty bad injury, I’ll be fine for a bit if you work on him first.” He wrapped the gauze around his side and attempted to holster his pistol, a little more difficult than normal now that his hands were shaking. Still, he didn’t react much to the shot, more worried for Otto’s sake. After all, he did get shot in the head. Even if he had robotic components up there, it wouldn’t hurt to at least give him a look over. Silas went to the medbay with Lydia, not needing much help walking besides a small stutter every couple of feet.

When they got to the medbay, Silas started to tend to his own wound very basically. He only knew the very basics of medical practices, and simply secured the gauze better now that he was still and without worry of Icarus soldiers getting onboard. As the ship left the atmosphere of Kilo, thanks to Adira’s piloting skills, they seemed to be in the clear. Silas predicted just a few more moments before Adira would jump them into FTLT, and they’d be safe.

However, an explosion rang out through the ships hull, reverberating and knocking over bottles and equipment. Silas only stayed standing due to his grip on the edge of the bed. He took a quick look around, wondering if he was going to get sucked out of an open hull breach any second. When a moment passed and he was still standing, Silas noted the almost inaudible alarm going off. Due to the commotion, it was faint and hard to listen to, but Silas zeroed in on the noise; he knew the specific interval of the beeping, a specific alarm to warn the crew of a hazardous, life threatening malfunction in the ship. With wide eyes, Silas turned to Lydia. With a hint of dread in his voice, he spoke, “Take care of Otto, I need to figure out what that is before the ship starts to shut down.”

‘No!’ Lydia scrambled up from the floor. ‘You lie down! The bleeding is stopping. Wait to fix whatever’s up until YOU’RE fixed.’ She nodded sharply at the bed as she hurriedly set fallen things back upright. ‘You can’t fix anything anyway if you’re bleeding out while you do it. Also I will not let you. So lie down.’

Silas wasn’t at all surprised by Lydia telling him to stay. She had secured the gauze on his side though, and he had no idea if the alarm meant they could be obliterated in the next second or the next minute. “I have to go check what that is. I’ll live if I go check, but all of us could die if it’s important; which is exactly what that alarm means.”

‘You’re acting like you’re the only one that can make a mechanical diagnosis. Which, even if you were, that would make it an even higher priority for you not to die. Because if you die then we have no one to fix the ship.’ Quickly the bottles were stacked back where they belonged, and Lydia’s full attention was turned to Silas. ‘Please,’ She spoke through gritted teeth, ‘Lie the fuck down.’

“We’re talking in circles here,” Silas pointed out to her. “I’m going to die if I don’t check the alarm. I’m going to die if I *do* check the alarm.” By the end of his sentence, he was already making his way for the door. “The way I see it, if I’m dying in both scenarios, it might as well help keep you all alive, right?”

‘OH MY GOD.’ Lydia grabbed the back of Silas’ shirt. ‘Then lie down and let me wheel you over to the goddamn problem! You’re not going to die because I’m not going to let you, okay?’

Silas was stopped a moment from feeling Lydia hold him back. He jerked forward though to release his shirt from her grasp, going out the door. “I can handle it, Lydia. Stay here.” He pressed the button to shut the door between them, in hopes of at least stalling the medic for a time. He went up the stairs and stopped by a console on the main level of the ship in the hallway, and swiped away a few other notifications. All of their life support equipment were hooked up to the ships computers to process and alert other members of crew health and well being. He swiped away Otto’s notification about his head, then his own notification about his side, and started glossing over the diagnostic of the explosion they had encountered. He had no doubt one of the cruisers in orbit had landed a shot, which would be devastating for them. Worst case scenario they were already dead, just waiting for the hull to strip away and suck them all out into the abyss. Since that hadn’t happened yet, Silas assumed it wasn’t the worst it could be.

Silas had faith in Adira to keep them clear for the next few moments, and finally found where the problem was coming from. Starboard side hull indirect hit. Not the best news, but also not the worst. Silas breathed for a moment before starting down the hall towards where the malfunction was. Some of the ships wiring must have been hit in the explosion. This would also mean the ship had no working shields at the moment, as the blast from the cruiser would’ve knocked them out. He heard the clanking of metal, and the quick pace of footsteps coming up behind him. Before he even had a chance to turn, he was knocked back into a seat; a wheelchair, with Lydia wheeling it down the direction he was going in. With a curse under his breath, Silas assumed this was the only way to appease the medic.

“You dragged a wheelchair all the way up the stairs?”

“Yes, I’m sure it looked comical. Almost as funny as someone trying to prance around with a bullet inside them.” It was clear Lydia didn’t agree with Silas’ choice, but there wasn’t much he could do about that.

With quick directions, Silas held his side and pointed where Lydia needed to take him. He came up to the double set of doors that led into the pressurization chamber that also went to the main entrance of the ship. He was right to worry - on the other side of the glass doors, across the pressurization chamber, the entrance door was wide open. Luckily, the second set of doors kept everyone from being sucked out, but they had another problem on their hands. With the door open, they couldn’t go into FTLT and escape the cruisers. After all, Scion Gel was made to keep the outside of a ship from getting eaten away from lightspeed travel. The inside of the pressurization chamber didn’t have that gel coating and would easily be ripped apart from FTLT.

Silas ripped off an interface panel on the second door and began looking at the different internal workings of the ship. It was difficult to see what was going on inside without the proper lighting, but he didn’t have time to grab a flashlight. Either the cruiser would shoot them again and they’d all blow up, or Adira would go into lightspeed and they’d all blow up. Lose lose situation, so Silas felt he might as well try and give them a way out.

With some adjustment to the inside of the panel, he spent a few moments setting up a rigged switch to force the entrance doors closed. He moved back to the interface on the wall and pressed the button to close the outside doors, praying he hadn’t just killed his entire team if it didn’t work. Through the glass doors, he could see a few sparks fly in the pressurization room, but after a moment, the outside doors jolted shut, and the interface on the wall informed him the doors were secured. He sat back in the chair with a hefty sigh.

Just then, Adira had taken them into FTLT, away from danger. The familiar sound of FTLT travel filled the halls of the ship with white noise. Looking back at the doors one last time, he spoke, “Alright Lydia, crisis averted. Let’s go back to the medbay and make sure Otto still has a face.”

 

[Solar Daddy]

Adira slowly took her shaking hands off of the controls. Her joints ached and her hands cramped from how hard she had been gripping the controls. With a few shaky breaths, she acknowledged that they were safe now. She had shaken off the last of the Icarus troops some time ago, and hopped around at FTLT for varying amounts of time, changing direction each time. Some of the ships had completely passed them, and others were all kinds of lost. This wasn't Adira's first chase, and she was sure it wouldn't be her last, but damn had that been close. This ship was not happy with what cold start, either, but she and Silas could handle fixing it. Maybe Kepler and Otto could help. But speaking of that damned mechanic...

Adira put the ship on autopilot, a modified system that she and Silas had developed to take rather roundabout routes to get places - precisely in case they were being maybe followed. She got up and went to the medical bay, and addressed everyone there with, "Well, we're safe now," she said with a little sigh. "Wasn't easy, but I shook them off. We should be arriving at Granite within the next 24 hours or so. Probably closer to 36 hours, to be honest." Adira looked Silas in the eyes and said, "Think you can hold out that long?" with a little venom in her voice.

Silas smirked a bit when he saw Adira enter the medbay. "I think I'll make it." He informed her, hoping she wouldn't scold him too bad. After all, they made it off world without much of a problem. Their AI companion, Dai, hadn't made it to the ship. She wasn't a person, but Silas couldn't shake the feeling that she could've been an asset to the team. They still had Kepler though, so it wasn't a total loss. He made a mental note to check in with him about Dai when he was less burdened by being stuck in the medbay. After a pause to think about such things, he tried to appease to Adira. "I'm not going to die so that's good. Lydia already scolded me enough for getting shot." He pointed off to Lydia who was currently inspecting Otto's head. "36 hours. I've got to do some inspections on the ship after that cold launch we did, but some things will have to wait until we're at a port. I'll do what I can when I can, though."

Meanwhile, Lydia examined Otto's wound, finding it oddly creepy to stare at a man who only had half a working face. She had forced him to come here despite Otto's protests, choosing to be safe with anyone who was hit. Still, she tried to find any part that she could work on. "I'm not sure if this is my department to look into, I'd ask Silas or maybe Kepler to see if they could do anything for you. This all looks like mechanical components that took damage."

Otto exhaled through his nose, he was truly irritated being forced into the med bay, even though it was Lydia's job as their medic. "Wait here a moment" he said and walked out of the med bay. Otto returned shortly with his personal medical equipment from his quarters, the same he used before the crew's first job. He unpacked the tools from within onto the counter top. Otto pulled a hand held device from a sleeve that encased it and handed the device to Lydia "This is probably something familiar to you, as it is a medical interface unit but this one is an expanded version allowing Mechanical interface along with Biological. Pull the cable from the back and insert the connector" Otto instructed as he touched a part of his neck which reveled the port. "Interfacing will activate the device, It will most likely ask for voice confirmation, if it does just hand it back"

Lydia didn't seem phased by what Otto had asked. She had seen plenty of people who needed medical help with a mix of mechanical as well. Still, she did as Otto had instructed and connected the wire to the port. After this, the device asked for voice confirmation, so she handed it back. "Are you normally the one who takes care of your own injuries?"

"For the past several years, yes.... Drakovich, Matthias, Lieutenant First Class" He said answering Lydia's question and passing vocal ID. The device beeped with a denied access bar flashing which asked what unit he was apart of "Order 6793-54 alpha" the screen flashed green and opened "Here, any tab with an 'M' next to it will automatically detect both mechanical and bio issues run cranial scan and it will tell you everything you need to know about the area starting with the highest priority, beyond that you can select individual priorities and then procedures, the system will give recommended repair options along with unorthodox options"

Lydia was slightly overwhelmed from all the information she was being given but didnt let it show. "Okay, that's handy." She noted, assuming itd be best to start with the diagnosis of his head. It was the most obvious damage, after all, and clearly one of the worst someone could sustain.

After a few moments the device chirped indicating the scan was complete "Is the term Struc-Integ followed by the letter 'D' or 'L' Flashing at the top of the list?" Otto hoped that warning wasn't there, but with the hit he sustained it was a possibility.

Lydia checked over the device, starting to get a hang of how it worked. She responded, "No, it doesn't have any of that." She told her, tilting the device to show him.

"Excellent, then everything is superficial as I thought, I going to take it from here, go finish up our stubborn boss... If you still want to know more come back, this will take some time anyways" Otto said, he had kept his professionality but now he needed to see if anything could actually be repaired, the real challenge now was staying awake as Otto felt fatigue finally gripping him...

 

[Vudukudu]

While the rest of the crew tended to their various injuries, Kepler focused on finding his. He had taken a minor hit, nothing more than a passing laser that seared his face, but he could wait until the doctor was ready to apply whatever aerosolized burn treatment was available. It was lucky he hadn't taken a serious hit, but it was still worth checking for bruises, strained muscles, and the like. One must take care of every piece of the flesh-machine, after all. Occupying a small area of the medbay whilst the others fussed over Matthias and Silas, he began the Rite of Diagnostication, a slow and methodical series of stretches meant to tend to muscles after exertion and discover any minor damage. Murmuring softly for the duration, he quickly slipped into almost total ignorance of his surroundings as the others did their work. The Rites were not to be interrupted under any circumstances.

Though it didn't take a terribly long time, it was enough to reflect on the mission's events. They'd extracted the objective successfully with no casualties. D-A1's destruction merely lightened their tool belt some, but he suspected not in any unmanageable way. It's absence certainly improved his mood, as it would no longer tamper with his computers and its presence had proven a constant irritation to his faith and general mood. Beings of the flesh were meant to aspire to pure machine-hood, not the other way around. Cybernetics were holy, but androids were their antithesis. It was fortunate that he would no longer have to concern himself with the philosophical and religious ramifications of co-existence with such a sinful simulacrum, but the laser pistol he'd discarded in the crags of the world they'd left behind had solved that problem. The course had been righted, bless the Machine God.

 

[Epiphany]

Safely back on board, with the rest of the crew occupied in one way or another, Kestrel turned her attention to the ship's hull. Silas had sealed things off well enough to get the ship safely into FTL. Time to check his work. She wasn't an engineer like the Smiths or Singhs but even a Cavanaugh was born and bred for life aboard ships. Basic maintenance and repair work was as essential as learning to read. The finer electrical work could wait for Silas or possibly Kepler. The blonde soldier instead checked out a variety of diagnostic equipment to inspect hull integrity, inch by tedious inch. She spent hours at it, making sure nothing was in danger of buckling. If anything made her frown, Kestrel foamed it, set it with a brace of metal and soldered reinforcement.

She wiped off the sweat from her forehead, then chose to catch a shower. Before heading to the mess hall, though, Kestrel stopped by the medical bay to pick up Lydia. "Everyone needs food, Doctor," she said with a grin. "Might as well eat with me and see what everyone else is up to, eh?"

 

[Dragongal]

Adira glared at Silas. "You'll rest for now, we're in no danger." That definitely sounded like a command and not a request. Once a Captain, always a Captain. Only difference was that now there was no potential punishment to force people to listen to her. It would be inconsequential to disobey, if it weren't for her wrath.

Eventually, her attention turned to Otto. "Still seeing straight, Otto? You might have a metal skull, but I'm sure Lydia has already told you about concussions still being a risk." Adira was lucky enough so far that she didn't need a prosthetic of any form, but she knew a little about the fake skin and all, so Otto didn't spook her too much. She made a mental note to ensure that he got a new helmet after this.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas knew better than to try Adira, but he also found it amusing to try and find her limit. "You're the boss." He joked, sitting back in his wheelchair and sighing softly. He felt it was entirely overkill to be refrained to this seat when he felt he could walk fine and perform alright. While he agreed he shouldn't be trying to do too much physical activity, he wasn't sure if this was necessary. After letting Lydia scold him, and then Adira, he decided to catch up with Kepler and make sure he was doing alright. He also needed to ask about D-A1 - their short lived robotic companion. For all they knew, she could still be alive and just wasn't savable back on the planet. From Kepler's expression when they first regrouped though, it made Silas fear the worst. Rolling his wheelchair up to Kepler in the medbay and asked, "How did you fare from the mission? Anything broken or damaged?" He asked, his hand instinctively entering his pocket to play with the gears he kept there.

Kepler's eyes blinked twice, almost mechanically, upon Silas' arrival. Turning his steely gaze towards the man, Kepler managed little more than an apathetic shrug. "Minor injuries sustained. Doubtful they will minimize future efficiency of this unit following routine repairs." He replied evenly. To be frank, he wasn't particularly excited about having to speak to anyone at the moment, having only just come out of his near trance-like state, but his recent foray into a book titled "Manners and Etiquette: A Primer" had taught him he was obliged to put forward some sort of answer or risk social alienation.

"Glad to hear it." Silas responded, used to Kepler's odd social behavior by now. It was still out of the ordinary, but niche pockets of civilization like the one Kepler was from pop up all over the place in all manner of life. Just because he didn't believe in the Machine God didn't mean it didn't exist. "I'm glad everyone made it out with as minor of injuries as possible. Otto has a metal head so that shouldn't be too hard to fix." With a chuckle, he continued, "Do you know what happened to D-A1?"

Kepler’s facade, fortunately enough, hardly requires effort to maintain. His face can hardly betray itself, given that it hardly moves. “That entity was providing covering fire for this unit’s retreat. Regrettably, return fire from a weapons-grade laser pierced her shields and penetrated the carapace in the middle region of the face. Entity termination, this unit suspects, was instantaneous.” Kepler replied, nodding curtly. He’d long since learned to shape statements into technical truths, as it had proven useful many a time.

"Instantaneous." Silas repeated under his breath, a small sigh of relief. Though D-A1 was a robot and not capable of feeling, it brought him piece of mind to know the unit didn't suffer. "You said she was... shot in the face; so, if we assume D-A1 was built like a typical AI chassis, all the internal wiring and data stored in her would be fried, right? It's all housed in the head, so the shot would've destroyed any info they could've obtained to get back to us right?"

There was a very specific reason Kepler had aimed for the center of the skull. It was a core flaw in any android’s design as far ad he was concerned. Humanoids were not an efficient shape when synthetic materials were available, and it led to some questionable design choices. “Quite likely. The unique construction of D-A1 will likely be worth countless millions to Icarus, in retrospect, but the scrap could not be extracted safely.” Kepler answered, nodding affirmatively.

"Alright, good. Not to condone the loss of a teammate, but at least they can't trace her back to us." After a short pause, Silas continued. "Once we land at the port, we'll have a few days to unwind and recuperate after that mission. From the payoff of these jobs, we should be good to do just about whatever we want for a few weeks, at least. The ship will be open if you prefer to sleep in your cabin, or you can feel free to take a room in the city, up to you. I'll brief the rest of the team when we land. Just take it easy for a bit, you did good work out there."

Kepler furrowed his brow and briefly pondered the potential options of his new earnings. Upgrades, perhaps? “This unit will remain on board. Transporting the Cog to a temporary residence would be inefficient.” Kepler said, shifting his weight on his heels. “If it is of no trouble to Master Burns, this one ought to pursue medical treatment and perhaps refreshment. Daily caloric intake has not yet met recommended parameters.”

Silas instantly nodded and wheeled backwards to let his conversation victim free. "Of course, apologies for keeping you. Thanks again for all your hard work." He told Kepler as he turned the chair, decided he was tired of the damned thing, and just stood to leave the room.

 

[Gradous13]

Adira's question had almost eluded his mind as he focused on his work. Otto set down his "face" before he looked halfway over his shoulder "Im, fine... And yes I have been reminded, I will let Doc know if I start suffering any symptoms, Ill be here for a while, please let me know if any repairs need my attention, I haven't a problem stopping what I am doing to address them" With that he went on to remove the rest of the nano-skin from his head. A tightly packed balaclava within the Otto's medical case was sealed in plastic to which he removed the wrapping and dawned the head gear. Though Otto was sure they wouldn't judge, He still didn't want them to see what was really underneath everything that made him look... normal. Hell Kepler even thought highly of the body he had if his memory was correct. However, after all the years he still couldnt get used to himself as he was now.

Otto would work on his repairs for the next half hour, his head dipping and springing back up every now and then before becoming frequent. Before Otto knew it, he passed out onto the medical table he had been sitting at. One of his tools was still gripped in his right hand, while Otto's left arm found itself as a resting place for the head of a sleep deprived man. His body would twitch every so often accompanied by some unintelligible mumbling has he slept.

 

[Spazzycat101]

Lydia​

After all the immediately necessary treatments were taken care of as best as the patients would let them—Lydia still wanted to have a stern conversation with Silas, but already at this point knew him well enough that it would do nothing—so she wore a half-grimace as she cleaned up the majority of the medical supplies, leaving some to be readily available for Otto, Silas, or anyone else who decided they suddenly needed it.

When she was done putting everything away, Lydia stopped for a moment. With a huff, she began to reorganize it all.

She was just finishing this up for the second time when she heard Kestrel’s voice. Lydia stood and stared blankly for about two seconds until her brain registered what her crewmate was saying.

‘Ah. Yeah. Food is probably a good idea. Might as well.’ It took a few more seconds of putting one thing there and moving another thing here before Lydia could detach herself from the task.

As they walked down to the mess hall, Lydia attempted to start conversation. It was not her strong suit, not in the least, but with no preoccupation, the silence was beginning to feel a bit too awkward and oppressive.

‘Eh, speaking of generalized needs, everyone needs to be clean too, you look covered in machine grease. Were you fixing some mechanical something or other?’

Epiphany

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas, after leaving behind his wheelchair in the medbay, travelled through the hall and up the set of stairs into the Hub. Passing Lydia and Kestrel just before the stairs, he got to the hub and planned on preparing one of the instant meals he stored in the fridge. Taking a pack out and unboxing the frozen food, he sent it through the small flash heater on the countertop, producing the hot meal in less than ten seconds. Taking off the film and tossing it into the bin, he carried his plate to the large couch and sat down on the corner seat. Just before taking a bite, he looked up to see Adira coming into the hub. He smiled, saying, "I suppose it's everyone's time to eat, now that the mission is over and everyone's been cared for."

Adira had been walking to the kitchen to get a drink and sit down for a bit. When she saw that Silas had gotten there before her, she slowly raised an eyebrow. "I suppose. Shouldn't you still be in the medical bay?"

"Lydia already fixed me, so I'm good. Now, she may argue I still need to be in a wheelchair, but I think I'd rather take her scolding over being confined to that thing. Plus, it's not like we have wheelchair accessible lifts from the first floor to the sub deck." Silas noted.

Adira just watched Silas for a few seconds, then shook her head. "You're almost as stubborn as me." She got some water from the sink and sat up on the counter while she sipped at it. "I wish I could trust you to at least rest and care for yourself after you got fuckin' shot."

"Hey," Silas said, turning a bit on the couch to face Adira and pointing his fork at her accusingly. "I am sitting on a comfy couch and meeting my caloric intake for the day. At this rate, I'll be better by 22 UST."

Adira scoffed. "Sure, sure. IF you can hold still and not take apart the nearest control panel to repair things that could wait until we land." She sipped at her water and rolled her eyes at him.

Silas shrugged. "if I wasn't this adamant about it, you and I would've died a long time ago. When we get to port, I'll buy everyone that round I owe. Will that promise keep you satisfied for now?" He asked.

Adira thought about it, then said, "No. I want you to promise that you'll only fix what can't wait. Okay?" She couldn't have the guy who jerry-rigged this ship dropping because he was tryinn to change a light bulb.

"Deal." Silas said, taking a bite. "How long till we're back at Granite?"

"Still about thirty-six," Adira said. "I know you're eager, but only half an hour has passed." She smirked a little and added, "If You slept and rested, the time'll go by faster."

"You know I'll be anxious no matter what. I can't sleep after something as thrilling as a hot extract," He chuckled.

 

[Solar Daddy]

With a thud and a noise similar to a rapid alarm sounding, the ship exited FTLT. Travelling towards the blue and green planet of the Porphyrion solar system, Silas prepared the ship for reentry into the atmosphere with a few adjustments in the engine room. He held onto a pipe to keep from falling over from the shakiness of entering a planet. Their ship carried them over the rugged landscape of vibrant trees and other planet life, all accompanied by jagged cliffs and vertical terrain that was a feature of Granite's surface. The lights from the city of Port Madrigal reflected off the lake it was built beside, and illuminated the night sky. After a quick clearance for landing, The Ambivalence set down on a landing pad and the doors hissed open. Silas was extra critical to watching the exterior door slide open, but was more than relieved when it finally separated the doors smoothly after a few small jams and a spark. He'd be sure to fix that before they left the planet again. Over the comms array between his crew, Silas sent a message to everyone.

"Alright, we made it back in one piece. Just like before, feel free to bunk on the ship or get an apartment in the city for the time being. I'm estimating we'll have at least a few days before we even plan out what we'll be doing next, so don't worry about being on call. Feel free to explore; just remember, some parts of Madrigal Port get pretty bad like the Southern end or Falls Route, so I'd recommend either staying away from them or having someone you know accompany you. I know most of you aren't native to Madrigal or maybe even to Porphyrion, so if you need pointers or directions, feel free to call me on this channel." Silas took his hand off the earpiece and gathered a few things, intending to head into the city.

When the buzzing in his ear alerted him to another call almost instantly after ending his talk, Silas frowned and read the caller ID on his small wrist pad; an unidentified caller ID, but he knew it meant bad news. The ending letters of the long ID name ended in WSOL - clearly a Waning Stars official - which either meant he was in trouble or was about to be involuntarily conscripted as a soldier. Either way, fighting his way out of this wouldn't be too easy for him.

 

[Vudukudu]

Kepler's time aboard the Ambivalence after the operation was quiet and contemplative. He rarely looked for opportunities to engage with his fellow crew, though he did reply politely to greetings and questions as the situation demanded. Mostly, he turned the temperature in whatever room he was currently occupying to a level far above the level of comfort of most of the crew. Hailing from a miserable ice world where frostbitten fingers were the norm had made him appreciate heat once he'd grown accustomed to it, though he remained ignorant of the preferences of people hailing from more temperate areas or climate controlled facilities. That said, he never objected to requests to cool it off a little bit in the presence of another, though he continued to keep his environs as sauna-like as possible without causing offense.

Upon reaching Madrigal, he quickly opted to remain aboard the vessel for most of their downtime. He'd been to Madrigal before, and like most cities, it inspired a mix of awe and a dim sense of oppressiveness in him. On the first, it had everything to do with his respect for the grand works of the Machine God. Such grandeur was only possible with its intervention in human affairs, after all. On the second, however, it was too.. large. He'd been raised in dim subterranean tunnels carved out of the ice illuminated only by the light affixed to his hood, and the vastness of an open air city was unsettling. He had come to prefer space, as it reminded him of home; only a thin metal carapace protecting him from a bitterly cold emptiness.

Kepler kept himself busy, however. When not engaging in progressively more strange and protracted rituals, he was working at his computer station. There were files to be organized, code improvements to be made, and pet projects to be tended to. Most of the projects were useless, but highly amusing to Kepler. He only endeavored to finish them because they were needlessly complicated and he had an appreciation for Rube Goldberg machines. Though inefficient, he considered them to be a harmless pastime. Though some of his religious companions might have seen such inefficient use of the Spark as heretical, he considered his hobby machines and programs to be a form of worship.

His favorite had turned the cockpit into a labyrinth of carefully measured strings, weights, pulleys, and ramps constructed out of various odds and ends. Given that they would be here a few days, he didn't think it would inconvenience the Captain too greatly, even if she couldn't enter the room without tripping a wire and sending a small ball rolling on its sixteen minute journey.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas had answered the call and regretted it almost instantly. The second he connected to the line, the booming voice on the other end put Silas on defense. "Silas Burns, owner of the commercial chassis KB504-7-12; your GPS says you've just landed in Madrigal. At your earliest convenience, see me in the Sorobyn tower in an hour. We have some things we need to discuss." Silas sighed once the call was over. No name given, no chance to speak. Typical higher command of WS. Silas wasn't going to get out of this easy, so he chose to just get it over with.

Silas left the ship after ensuring everyone had the code to get back into the ship. Taking one of the sub level mag gliders through the various districts that were between the spaceport and the business district of Madrigal, Silas had a few minutes to contemplate what might be going on. He assumed the worst and figured he was probably going to be arrested for dealing directly with Icarus on two separate missions. Silas just hoped he'd be able to clarify for them.

Once he got off the mag glider, Silas went through the sea of suits that blocked his path to the Sorobyn tower. Silas then was greeted by a receptionist. "Hello, I was told to come here for some kind of meeting? I'm Silas Burns."

The receptionist dialed a few keys before sending him a file, containing a code. "Floor 210. Room 11. Manor Hauk is waiting on a call." Silas wasn't familiar with the name, but the title Manor was more or less the planetary equivalent to Captain for naval vessels. Silas gave a hefty sigh but thanked the receptionist, before travelling up the tallest skyscraper in the city. On one of the highest floors, Silas stepped out and went to the room designated for him. From the room, he could see the entire city through the curved window that added a slight blue haze. In the center of the room was a table, with a single metal circle in the center. Once the door behind him shut, the lights dimmed and the holo played. In blue videometrics, Manor Hauk's upper body was displayed towards Silas. He was an older man with graying hair. He either was getting close to 300, or didn't care much about his looks. He had a few scars across his cheek, indicating he must've seen combat in his career.

"Manor Hauk." Silas said, standing straight.

"Silas Burns." The Manor said. "Reading over the past entry logs you've submitted, I can't help but notice that you've not only been to a cruiser by your coordinates, but also to a mining sight for Neodymium on Kilo. Both Icarus operated. Mind explaining what you were doing?"

"We're an exploration vessel, sir. We were exploring." Silas said firmly. "The frigate was a rearm mission to ensure we were well stocked with armaments and medicine. All weapons have been registered under Waning Stars protocol. We discovered the mining facility on accident, and were planning on reporting it once we got back. Unfortunately you summoned me before I was able to do much." It was true; Silas wasn't expecting to come across that information him and Kepler went through. To him, that wasn't a lie.

The Manor stayed quiet a moment, before responding, "I expect you to be more careful with your ship's destinations. To ensure this, I'm installing a unit to monitor your activities outside of monitored space. Prepare a room and Workspace for our operative on your ship, he'll be accompanying you on your adventuring until I'm certain you're not playing both sides." A few more brief mentions to Silas about crew losses and overall performance, the Manor ended the call and the lights in the room kicked back on.

While Silas wasn't all too happy with the decision of Manor Hauk, he was in no position to rebel against it. He didn't want to worry about forcing his crew to become criminals over a single agent being present on the ship. Plus, for all he knew, Silas could use this officer as an extension of his crew as well. It wasn't rare for deployed WS members to work well alongside their assigned crew. Waning Star's one good quality among all others is its ability to thoroughly examine people to assign them for the best job. He looked out the panes to his right that looked over Madrigal Port. Silas hadn't often been inside of a skyscraper before due to their rarity on frontier planets, so this was a rare sight despite space being a constant view for him. He hadn't even realized he had been daydreaming a bit as he explored the horizon with his eyes to notice the lone man who entered the room with him.

"There," said a voice. A finger pointed past the two reflections on the window and out towards the skyline. "Beyond those buildings you'll find the docks and beyond that Lake Madrigal. Probably one of the best views around, at least on this planet." The hand shifted from its position. It was now extended towards Silas. With a friendly expression the man nodded. "James Stratton. You must be Silas Burns, am I correct?"

Silas had almost jumped from unexpectedly being talked to. However he managed to keep still with just a mildly surprised expression. With a firm handshake, Silas responded, "That's correct. Captain-ish of The Ambivalence. I assume you're the man Waning Stars is gifting us as a new member?" He asked. He didn't mind having his presence on the ship, but others might gets antsy with an operative around them at all times. "I can already tell you're better company than most Waning officers; you haven't told me my hair is a fire hazard yet. Will you be joining the crew immediately?" He asked with a bit of a chuckle at his own joke.

James chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment." Truth to be told he knew plenty of WS personnel who'd come off as stiff. Pointing out fire hazards however that's...something new. In response to Silas' question he nodded slowly. "I believe am your latest addition to the crew roster, yes. If all the cogs in the machinery work as promised I'll grab my bags and follow you back to the Ambivalence as soon as this meeting is over." He nodded towards Silas. "Your crew. Tell me about them. Do they know I'm joining them?"

Silas shook his head as he waved James to follow him. "I only just learned about you myself a few minutes ago. Waning has probably already sent your gear to the ship. But if you need to grab anything else before we depart again, there's no rush. We're not planning to leave the port for a few days at least." James and Silas exited the building and travelled the same route back that Silas took to get there. He guided James back to the landing pad where the Ambivalence rested in all its glory.

 

[Dragongal]

Adira was walking out of the ship just as Silas and James arrived. Her intent had been to walk to one of the bad sides of town and find a cozy little backwater bar that she was quite familiar with. But maybe that needed to be delayed.



She gave James a look over, then looked to Silas and raised an eyebrow in question. To her knowledge, they weren't supposed to be getting any new crewmembers. They really didn't need any news ones, in her opinion. But this guy was here and with Silas, so she could only assume this meant that he was going to work with them.



Adira nodded in their direction and asked, "Hey, Silas, we got a new crewmember?" It was clear to Silas that she was incredibly suspicious of this newcomer. At the same time, she was very aware of the pistol on her hip.

 

[Solar Daddy]

Silas nodded his head. "This is James, our new Waning Stars associate for the crew." He said, giving Adira a look that he'd tell her about it later. After quick introductions, Silas guided James on a tour through the ship, as well as cleared out one of the storage rooms in the main stateroom hall to let James reside in. The rest of the time in Port Madrigal was interesting for the most part, and soon it was time for the crew to take off into the stars once more. With a call to action to his crew sent out, Silas prepared the ship to travel. He had repaired most of the damage done to the hull of the ship, though some aspects still needed some work. A week had given him ample time to search the ship over for the many things he'd need to fix eventually, but were in no real immediate danger of.

With the crew on board, Silas had Adira fly them into space to idle for the time being. He called everyone into the Hub to discuss their next plan. "Nice to see all of you again, in one piece and without any crippling gambling debt. I'm sure most of you have met him by now, but our latest crew member, James, will be accompanying us on our journey to report back to Waning Stars on our findings. Don't think ill of him; he's got a job to do, and I'm sure he wouldn't mind helping us out from time to time. Adira and I discussed a few possible plans for our next move, and so far, we seem to agree that exploring a recent primordial structure found on an asteroid is the best thing for us. It's highly explorational and hopefully won't involve us shooting our way out like usual. Our goal would be to identify the structure, who made it, and what it's for. We've got to be careful though; it may be technology human's haven't encountered before." Silas looked around the group. "Any questions before we head off?"

 

[Spazzycat101]

Lydia Camden​

Even after a week of rest and relaxation (which for her was hours of reorganization in the ship’s medbay—really, it did relax her), Lydia still couldn’t get over how goddamn fucking pissed she was at Silas. Because given the rate at which humans heal from wounds, under normal circumstances she would—if she was lenient—be allowing him to walk around the ship at this point, but he already had been for the past week. She supposed that it was nice that he at least wasn’t running marathons. And that Adira was flying the ship. No trying to balance doses of painkillers with piloting a relatively large vehicle in three dimensions and at FTL travel. Gotta appreciate the little victories.
She was less upset with Otto, who actually seemed to maybe give a shit about his recovery, even if he acted like the damage was superficial. And for all she knew it very well could be. Lydia didn’t actually think so, but she did admit that she wasn’t as well versed in treating android-cyborg-people with metal skulls as she was with normal humans. Lydia didn’t like admitting it, but she had to.

Lydia’s initial introduction to the new crewmate was in passing. At the moment she was debating whether to rearrange the medications in the supply closet alphabetically, or by purpose and then alphabetically, or by purpose and then by the strength of the medication, which was consuming most of her attention. So ultimately, Lydia was aware of their new crewmate, and heard his name—Jake, or something—and not much else.
In their little crew-meeting, when Silas stated that the new recruit was in fact a member of Waning Stars, Lydia audibly groaned.
Yes, she knew that her quarrel was with Waning Stars, not necessarily this particular individual, and yes, she knew he was ‘just doing his job’ or what have you, and yes she knew she would have to act civilly toward him because he was a crewmate and crewmates should act civilly toward each other, but that didn’t mean she was going to like it. But for her sanity’s sake Lydia set that thought aside for later. Some news she did like was that this mission would (probably) involve fewer bullets for her teammates to be wounded by and thus fewer wounds for them to aggravate and thus less general aggravation for Lydia. As she thought this, Silas was the subject of a minor, unconscious glare.

 

[Viper Actual]

Well, it sure wasn't the worst ship he'd seen. Compared to the numerous rugged down freighters and passenger ships James had spent his days on seeing the Ambivalence rest on the landing pad with rain splashing down all over it was quite comforting. If the inside was as good as the outside it would probably be among his top twenty ships.

He looked at Silas. "Seems like a fine ship. How's the pilot?"

Just then a woman approached. By the sound of her tone and manners she seemed to be more than just a bit suspicious of James being there. He didn't blame her. Not that it was the first time either. Crews were close-knit communities of their own and as such the first few interactions were always a bit stiff. James didn't mind it though. They always came around, sooner or later.

Smiling, James extended his hand after Silas made the initial introduction. "James Stratton. WS liaison and diplomatic envoy." For now he'd refrain from mentioning the intelligence officer-part of his occupation.

Once introductions were complete James tagged along with Silas for the guided tour of the ship. Top fifteen without a doubt especially considering the fact that he had his own room. Considering how many times he'd been sleeping on floors, inside containers or in the midst of shipping crates and actual room was quite the luxury. With a simple mattress and his bags stowed away James was more or less good to go. During the remaining time in port James spent most of his days installing equipment sent to him from his superior.

Unlike previous missions the Ambivalence wouldn't just serve as a temporary transport but as Stratton's temporary base of operations. As such he'd requested encrypted communications equipment to be sent to him that could be installed onboard the ship. Accessible only by him (unless you were really tech savvy) the terminal would allow Stratton to stay in touch with his superior and relay mission reports in (mostly) real-time.

When Silas called the crew for a meeting James had just finished writing an initial report on his first week aboard the Ambivalence. Though there wasn't much to write he figured he'd give his superiors something. It would server as a basis for this mission at the very least.

Upon arriving at the Hub James sat down wherever there was available space. He didn't want to steal any "taken" seats away from one of his new colleagues. As Silas spoke James listened in silence with a blank expression on his face. He made a quick wave as Silas mentioned him and glanced over at Lydia upon her audible reaction. There's always one. Gotta make sure I don't piss her off.

When Silas asked for questions James cleared his throat. "What's the intel on this structure?"