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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2018 4:56 pm
by Talvieno
Update time!
I know it's been a while. Sorry guys! I had a lot of stuff to deal with, both internally and externally. It required a mindset shift to get back into it, especially following Josh announcing the end of Limit Theory, but REKT will go on! This is NOT the end! It's too good to end like this, I'm sure you'll agree. With that in mind, I've decided taking some steps towards making this easier for me to actually keep up with - I'll need to find a real job soon and, the less "extra effort" I have to expend on REKT, the better - both for me, and all of you. After all, if it's too hard for me to continue, it'll stop completely. So, with that in mind, and without further ado... REKT continues! I hope you all enjoy this post which you all so patiently waited for (and hope to god I didn't miss anybody :? )

Ctrl+F is your friend.



In the hangar, the inmates continue to mill about, figuring out the state of things. The Nemesis, by now, is in orbit of Nanyej and soon to start the transfer to Fuhodo orbit. This transfer will be, of course, completely unnoticed; such things have been trivial for over a century. Gravity tech, thanks to stellaplex much like that which the small "platoon" recently recovered, has made such elements as accelerational g-force an ancient phenomena (barring malfunction), and it's quite far from anyone's minds.

Especially Bob and Crank's.


"Oh yeah, we had that game too!" Crank laughs joyously. "It's cool, we grew up so far apart but it's like we shared the same childhood!"

Bob agrees heartily, and then tries to explain the rules to another game.

"Yaha, tag!" Crank claps (his metal palms make a loud, dull clanking as they knock together). "I know that game too!"

And the conversation goes on, the subject straying onto different types of foods, and then different songs and movies - Bob and Crank actually have a lot in common, and Crank has turned out to be a pretty fun guy.

"Huh, Mr. Crank," Bob finally says thoughtfully, "Talking about food make Bob hungry. Maybe we get some food?"

"Oh! Yaha, sure thing!" Crank nods, getting to his feet. "I'm not one for eating much, y'know, but ah, I don't mind a bite every now and then either!" He laughs and pats his stomach, which clangs.

And so, the two newfound friends exit the hangar, headed towards the mess hall.

~~~

Others aren't contemplating leaving the hall at all - rather, they find themselves in a dire situation: they need to correct someone for getting their name wrong.
Spoiler:      SHOW
Previously: "Meredith may have some idea of where you could find one of those, but she's in a pissy mood right now after the state of your CASKETs." He points over at the nine wrecks that returned from the mission. "She may turn you down, not sure. You could maybe do something to butter her up, though - offer to help her first or something, you know? But it's just suggestion," he finishes, shrugging his shoulders. "Might get lucky just talking to her. Oh, and - Brantley, by the way - I'm Brantley. Nice to meet you, Mr. Ermhelm, and I hope you find your drill bit."
"Mr. Ermhelm?" Really? Brom laughs pleasantly at Brantley. "The name is Keegan, actually. I was however the biggest thing going on there at the time of my residency, so you may call me Ermhelm if you wish, and I will take it as a compliment." He goes on for another few minutes about the town's traditions (many of which he sparked off himself of course) and so on and so forth until Brantley has clearly had enough. "At any rate, thank you for your advice, Mr. Brantley! Your kindness will not be forgotten! Perhaps we shall meet again in the near future; preferably when I'm less busy. I can tell you about my past exploits! Until such a time presents itself, farewell, and good luck!"

With all this done, Brom marches quickly in the direction of "Meredith" - the woman that Brantley pointed him towards. Brom's current goal is to find a drill so he can make a momento for Bob - which he promised, after all.

"Greetings, Madam!" Brom calls loudly to the shapely backside of a woman stuck up out of the back of a CASKET's engine area, which has been opened for repair. "I am Brom Keegan, the legendary hero of Ermhelm! You have the appearance of one who is under a good deal stress; perhaps I could help." Given that her ass and legs are the only thing Brom can currently see (the rest of her being upside-down in the machine's interior), this statement doesn't sound entirely appropriate anymore. Fortunately Brom has no shortage of charm. "I don't mean to brag, but I am rather intelligent, and quite strong! Is there anything you have that needs doing?"

"WHAT?" Meredith yells, extricating herself from the engine. Her face is smudged with oil and engine grease. "Oh, you're one of the new guys," she mutters. "Yeah, what's up? Need something?" Brom begins to repeat his full request - along with his full title. Meredith cuts him short. "Yeah, whatever, that's nice, but goddamn, cut to the chase - what do you want?"

"A job, if that's all right," Brom says. "I'd like to do an exchange for privileges to use the power tools here."

"Are you high?" the woman asks bluntly, wiping her forehead with a rag (that apparently used to be a bandanna at some point). It only serves to add another smudge. "Hmm, you're not. Okay, great. I'm Mara, and as you've seemed to guess, I'm in charge here. Yeah, I do have some work that needs done, but you're not gonna like it," she says. "The guys in charge are 'rationing' our power supply and we're getting brownouts in here. It really fukcs things up with the heavy equipment. If you could head down to the reactor and explain the situation, that'd be great. Power tools are scattered wherever around here, so knock yourself out." Without waiting for a response, she climbs back into the CASKET's engine, muttering something about the inmates.


It's at this moment that Ishmael happens by, having just had a pleasant conversation with a certain "Rogil Harvek" - a fellow follower of The Faith. "Ahoy, lass!" Ishmael calls out in his best door-to-door voice. "Might I have a moment of your time?"

"God damn it, WHAT now???" Mara shouts, extricating herself once more from the CASKET's engine. When she finally gets back out, she plops her ass down on the CASKET's top and slams down her tools next to her - which promptly falls into the CASKET's open engine. Gritting her teeth in vexation, she closes her eyes and mutters another curse. "Yeah, Ishmael, back again? What do you need this time?"

"I was wondering if perhaps you might have a moment to discuss a very simple weapon design for my ship," you say. Given her current state of mood, you are careful to stress the "simple" part. "You would be the one to go to for this, yes?"

Mara sighs, wiping her hands again in abject surrender. "Yeah, I'm your girl," she sighs. "What do you need?"

~~~

Not too far away from Ishmael's conversation with Mara, Vynkor watches Mekkin as he sorts through various supplies. "Working together would benefit us both, after all," he says assuringly, with all the air of an experienced banker.

In most it would serve to arouse confidence, but in Vynkor it only serves to arouse further suspicion. She fully expects that he's trying to take advantage of her somehow. It's hard to trust the guy, but she figures, it wouldn't hurt to play his game. "Right, sure," she says. "Don't geet ahead of yourself, though. Your little 'investment' was only five hundred credits, after all."

Mekkin turns away from his work and levels an even gaze at the woman. "Pennies add up," he says firmly, with a meaningful expression, as though inviting her to read into this morsel.

Vynkor completes the transaction over her PDA, tapping the large green "Accept" button. With this finished, Mekkin returns to work, and Vynkor heads to the armory to make some purchases with what she has left... still mildly uncomfortable about the whole incident.

~~~

Elsewhere in the hangar, someone else is also mildly uncomfortable: Cho. She's doing her honest-to-gods best to keep everyone happy, but this is honestly a PR nightmare.

"Testing the rookies??" Saorise says in an annoyed tone. "This doesn't add up. Testing the rookies by lying to them isn't exactly the best way to gain their trust - nor is letting them raid a colony of innocent people for something we didn't even need." She looks quite cross, making quite a dangerous appearance of herself - and not in a good way. Saoirse has never been "good at people", and in fact, without noticing, she's actually glaring at Cho.

The FTO frowns and twiddles her fingers awkwardly. "Well... Well, I know, but I mean -" After a brief pause to collect her thoughts, she sighs, giving up. "I was just following orders. Look, I'm sorry, Saoirse..."

Saoirse, realizing only a little too late that she's committed a faux pas, tries desperately to backpedal. "b - but none of that is your fault! I'll just - I'll have a few choice words for SCAMPS on the debrief, that's all," she follows up with nervous laughter. "...And hey, we uh, we picked up the nacelle, so that part of the mission was useful, right?"

Quietly, Cho nods, watching silently for a moment before she insists, "The entire mission was useful. SCAMPS usually knows what he's doing. I don't always know why, that's all. I'm sory he did this to you, but I'm sure he had a reason."


At that point, Saoirse gets distracted by getting into an enormous argument with Buck over whether or not Hiltorel actually qualify as "people". Shortly after, he leaves in a huff, headed for the canteen - just as Caleb makes an appearance.

"Hey!!!" Caleb calls out, waving as he approaches. Saoirse's keen eye is drawn to a glint of metal beneath the leg of his pants, piquing her interest. "Sorry about earlier," Caleb goes on, hobbling over. He's still clearly unused to the prosthetic. "I was trying to get some actual legs instead of these hunks of junk!" he laughs, pulling up his pants leg to show off the robotic limb replacement.

"Caleb!!!!" Cho cries out, happy for the distraction. "Oh, I'm so glad you made it back okay! You aren't mad at me, are you? I got you back as fast as I could!"

Saoirse glares at him. Those legs look a lot better than the ones she spent the majority of her life on. Silently fuming, you excuse yourself. "I'm heading to the observation deck. I don't want to be a bother."

As Saoirse leaves, Cho calls out past Caleb, "Okay! Oh, but - the observation halls were destroyed on one side of the ship. They may have gotten them somewhat 'usable' on the other, but I'm not sure. It's probably not very high priority, but you could try!" Saoirse mumbles something akin to "Thanks" and Cho calls, "Oh, and - I'm glad to have met you, Saoirse!"

"Later, Saoirse!" Caleb says. He gets the idea that he might've said something wrong, but he's not entirely sure. "And no, Cho, I do appreciate you doing what you could for me. Why would I be mad at you? And thanks for putting in a good word when I was trying to get back in, too."

Beaming, she steps a little closer towards him, seeming to internally fight whether or not to give him a hug. Instead, she turns it into a handclasp at the last moment and enthuses, "Oh, of course! Oh, I was so worried you'd be upset with me! It's so nice to meet you in person, Caleb, and I'm glad you're all right!"

The handclasp threw you slightly off balance, and you have to pull your hand away and grab Cho's shoulder to keep from falling. "Oh, oh!" she cries, immediately jumping into a position to support you, arm around your back. "Careful! Oh my gods, I don't think these limbs are properly on, are they? Are you sure you're all right?" She looks into Caleb's eyes searchingly.

Caleb searches for a response, but he has tunnel vision: all he can see is the glittering blue of her irises.

"You'll have to tell me more about yourself, Caleb," the FTO says encouragingly.

~~~

Elsewhere on the ship, other people do not look so encouraging.

Dennis Hoffman, Chief Armory Officer, stares at Vynkor uncomfortably as he adjusts his cap. He's a good head taller than she is. "You want me to do what now, lass?"

"Sharpen my arm. Just the outside of it," Vynkor clarifies. "I figured you could just add a little edge to the forearm or hand. ...and maybe a bit of serration?" she adds hopefully. "Isn't the armory the place I'd go to get my arm sharpened?"

Hoffman looks visibly disturbed. His lips twitch as he ponders what the inmate before him is saying. Farther back in the armory, between the rows of industrial shelving, something falls and clatters. It makes him jump, and finally jerks him from his thoughts. "Uh, er... ...yes? I suppose, young lass, but ah... You sure this is something you want to do?"

"Well, I have some skill with martial arts," Vynkor shrugs nonchalantly, "so I just figured..." she trails off.

"Hmm. I suppose so, yes. You do realize that having... blades stuck to your arms is going to cause a lot of problems, don't you lass? Such as, anything that you don't want to injure or destroy? It'll be a bit hard to use, too, being on the side of your arm and all."

Vynkor shrugs. "It just sounds cool, is all."

Hoffman shakes his head. "Aye, I'll see what I can do, then. You are absolutely sure, yes?"

~~~

"Yes, I'm absolutely sure!"

A fairly impatient Saoirse stands in front of a makeshift barricade, sporting a general-issue spacesuit. Her adversary is none other than some random, lowly technician, who is just trying to "uphold the law" as he sees it. "Hmm..." he mutters. "It's not safe out there, you know. The walls are -"

"Yeah, I know," Saoirse interrupts, crossing her arms. "The walls are damaged, the hull is breached, there's no life support. You've said it twice already. Why do you think I'm wearing a spacesuit?"

"So you're absolutely absolutely -"

"Yes!!"

At long last, the technician shrugs. "Okay. Try not to trip on anything," he says, typing a code into a panel on the wall. The heavy blast doors open, revealing a yawning, pitch-black entrance; only a thin airshield separates them from the vacuum of space.

"Finally," Saoirse mouths, already moving forward. "And thanks," she adds - a bit too late for tact.

"Don't mention it," the man mumbles.


Her previous annoyances completely forgotten, Saoirse stands alone in the damaged observation hallway among the twisted metal beams and debris. Outside - beyond the ruined glass plates and splayed wiring - she sees the wide curve of Nanyej's surface from low orbit; one of Nanyej's smaller moons, Faller, is faintly visible in the distance.

In a word, it is beautiful. For a moment, the young woman completely forgets the drab, dismal reality of her surroundings - she feels uplifted and inspired - she feels a grand sense of purpose, and for the briefest of moments she feels as though she could truly understand the universe, in an intimate, far-reaching way - everything just seems to make sense . . . but just as quickly, it slips through her fingers and is gone, and she is once again a young woman standing in a battle-ravaged hallway, wearing a spacesuit, and woefully aware of her surroundings.

But space is still beautiful. For just a while longer, she watches the twinkling of stars beyond the gaps in the hull, and the clouds drifting above Nanyej's surface, before she reluctantly turns away, heading to the canteen.

~~~

Meanwhile, a lot of things are already taking place at the canteen...

The canteen is just beginning to become something of a social hotspot, with Frank in the middle: the focus of Brenna's attention as he sits miserably on a small stack of crates in the back room. Brenna leans forwards in askance, trying to understand what he's feeling. Frank, on the other hand, doesn't want to talk about the mission right now - or even think about it. He just wants to forget.

Unfortunately, Brenna leans against one of the freezers, folds her arms, and waits. She's not going to let him forget. Without realizing, Frank twists the ration bar in his hands, worrying it.

Finally Frank bursts out, "The - the mission - it was them or us! We had to take it away. They fought for their colony - for their civilians! They fought for the one thing they needed to survive in that place - the the thing we took away from them!" His words come out in a tumbled rush, and in the back of his mind he realizes he's not making any sense, but he's powerless to stop it. The dam has burst; there's no holding it back now. "I - I used tranquilizers! I wantd not to kill someone - to kill anyone - I had to look them in the face - in the eyes when I shot them! I couldn't! I wanted to run - to just stop! I thought about running away - I wanted to!"

Through eyes moist with despair, Frank sees Brenna nod in understanding, but he's too far to stop. Through a tumultuous cascade of broken sentences, Frank poured out his heart and soul to the woman - his deepest, innermost thoughts, his worries and fears, the things he struggled with and his own overwhelming sense of guilt for those he harmed. His eyes cast downwards, and come to rest on the tormented, twisted ration bar in his lap - just as Brenna takes his hands in hers.

"You're no villain, Frank," she says calmly. "You don't have the heart for it. It was survival instincts, nothing more. Look at me." When he doesn't move, she says it again, more urgently: "Frank, look at me."

Slowly, hesitantly, biting his lip, Frank fights his inner nature and turns his eyes up towards her face. He almost trembles as they make eye contact, her warm, encouraging gaze washing over him; his eyes cloud up and he chokes back tears. He feels so, so empty.

"Frank," Brenna continues calmly, "Would a killer be so distraught? You were desperate. You did what you had to do to stay alive - to keep your allies alive. That's something a good person would do. You go out of your way to help others - you even helped me. You're a good man, Frank. In fact..." Suddenly, Brenna pauses; there is a trace of something unidentifiable in her glance. After a brief hesitation, she finally starts back, "In fact, I -"


But her words are interrupted. "HEY!" someone shouts from the cafeteria window. Brenna makes a valiant attempt to pick back up where she left off, but is again cut short by a louder, "HEY, WHERE'S THE SERVICE!"


The lady grimaces and gets to her feet. "I have to take care of this," she says by way of apology. Then she calls, "Just a minute! I'll be right there!"

Frank gets to his feet as well, following behind Brenna at a slower pace.



The pair soon finds Buck standing in front of the cafeteria counter, rapping on the glass with his knuckles. "Ah, there ya are!" he says as Brenna approaches. "Hey - can I get a bucket o' fried chicken?? Oh, and if ya got any whiskey, toss that my way too! I got a thirst that could kill a camel!" Buck notes out of the corner of his eye that Frank just emerged from the back rooms too, and he looks a bit disheveled and cross. He wonders if perhaps they were havin' a little hanky panky.

"What'll you have?" Brenna asks. Patiently, Buck repeats his order, while Brenna's expression slowly morphs into a flat display of fatigue. "We don't have any of that," she finally says after he finishes. "I can get you a ration bar. All our freezers have been down for a while, and everything in them is ruined."


Buck, Frank, and Brenna are far from the only ones in the hall. Gene is third in line, and Bob and Crank are lining up now as well, along with a small number of Nemesis crewmen, and just at this moment, Saoirse enters the room at the far end.


Buck doesn't notice any of this, of course. His thoughts belong entirely to the venerable God of Whiskey and Goddess of Good Eats. "So, uh... I don't s'pose there's a .... fried chicken flavored ration bar... half-bucket is fine, y'know. And maybe..." he pauses as Brenna frowns, "Maybe a little whiskey? I mean it doesn't have to be whiskey, could be anything alcoholic," he adds, covering his bases. His impatience is slowly beginning to climb as he notes Brenna's darkening expression. "Ain't no way whiskey got damaged from the freezers going down, there's gotta be whiskey somewhere. Or maybe beer? Beer is... well, I mean, if you've got nothing else, you know."

"Chicken ration with mediwater," Brenna states decidedly, as though that's what Buck requested. "I'll be right back with it."

At this, Buck finally bursts out, "Oh come on, this is fuckin' bullshit!," he spits out, slamming his hands on the counter. "Are you tryin' to piss me off?"


Behind him, Crank nudges Bob in the ribs. "Whoa, lookit this guy," Crank says in a loud whisper. "He went batshit so early? Man, and I thought he'd be one of the sane ones!"


"I mean look," Buck rages on, motioning emphatically behind him, "I go out there fight them monsters that almost fuckin' KILLED me, and I get nothin' in return? What the absolute fuckin' hell?!? I really shoulda killed every last one of them dirty squid bastards -"

At that moment, someone taps Buck on the shoulder. "Whaddaya want, can't you see I'm in the middle of something?" Buck shouts, turning just in time to catch sight of Frank's face before a fist rockets into his face, sending him reeling. Frank, having had enough, is fuming, but clutches his hand painfully from the blow. He's seething - but also somewhat terrified.

Buck staggers back, straightening as he clutches at his jaw. "Man, why's everyone gotta give such a shit 'bout these squids!? Helloooo, they're squids for fukc's sake!"

Fists clenched, arms straight at his sides, Frank howls in a tormented voice, "What do you know of them?!? What do you know of them??"

"They had it comin'!" Buck yells. "They fuckin' deserved everything they got!"

"It never should've gone this far," Frank shouts, but then suddenly quiets himself and takes a step back.

There's a brief pause, and then Buck exclaims, "I don't get why everyone's tryin' to be so politically correct all of a sudden!"


An awkward silence reigns in the canteen. Anyone that wasn't paying attention now most certainly is.

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2018 5:55 pm
by cuisinart8
[IC]Caleb[/IC]
I struggle to respond for a moment...were her eyes always so...captivating? I almost feel like a new man, like I've finally opened my own eyes to the sheer beauty of the universe.

I then realize that I've been staring deeply into Cho's eyes for about thirty seconds without answering her question.

"Uh...I'm, uh, I'm fine, I think..." I flounder pathetically with my words, stumbling over myself as I attempt to tear my mind away from the feel of her arm around me. "Um...I'm Caleb...uh, you already knew that!"

I take a moment to gather my wits- I'm a soldier, dammit! I've faced worse foes than my libido! Of course, that usually didn't go well, but still. I awkwardly shift in her grasp, attempting to take more of my weight on my own, but still finding the prosthetic hard to get used to. I struggle not to fall all over her.

"Well, I come from a military family, back on Dashta. My father was a soldier too, but he always said to watch out for women, though, because they...uh..." I pale slightly as I remember his drunken ramblings after hitting one too many bars with "the guys." Maaaayyyybe that one isn't such a great idea.

My drug-addled brain then chooses that moment to remind me that I still have this absolutely gorgeous girl's arm around me, and I shift slightly closer (not without some difficulty, of course, given my leg.)

I steady myself almost unconsciously with my hands on her shoulders before looking juuuuust close enough to her eyes to not get lost again, smiling confidently (I hope.) "Anyway! Uh, want to maybe grab some food and we can talk somewhere less open?"

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sat Oct 27, 2018 7:36 pm
by 0111narwhalz
[IC]Vynkor[/IC]"What, are there things I don't want to cut?" I grin at the look on his face. "Listen, I'll just take the hand one for now. And I think you underestimate the utility of a nice sharp edge to cut the duct tape. Keeps it neat without marring the adhesive, you see."

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Mon Oct 29, 2018 5:44 am
by Hapchazzard
Look around, waiting briefly for someone to say something, then angrily continue my rant:

"What? Why the hell's everyone just... starin'? Seriously, y'all's givin' me the creeps! You know what's also givin' me the creeps? This 'ere stuff!" points at a nearby ration bar

"Someone calls that thing food!? Arskoshan dumpsters have better food! Uraliens have better food! Even a squid would be insulted if you offered it this... whatever it is! I ain't eatin' none of it - I'd rather eat my own shit! There's gotta be some kind o' manager or somethin' to speak to, 'cause this is gettin' beyond crazy! How's this joint still in business!? IT DUN' EVEN HAVE BEER, FOR FUKCS SAKE! N' don't even get me started on how everyone here supports aliens - if we were on a real proper free n' democratic planet now, you'd get shot for sayin' that kind o' ridiculous crap!"

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Mon Oct 29, 2018 7:36 am
by outlander
Spoiler:      SHOW
"God damn it, WHAT now???" Mara shouts, extricating herself once more from the CASKET's engine. When she finally gets back out, she plops her ass down on the CASKET's top and slams down her tools next to her - which promptly falls into the CASKET's open engine. Gritting her teeth in vexation, she closes her eyes and mutters another curse. "Yeah, Ishmael, back again? What do you need this time?"

"I was wondering if perhaps you might have a moment to discuss a very simple weapon design for my ship," you say. Given her current state of mood, you are careful to stress the "simple" part. "You would be the one to go to for this, yes?"

Mara sighs, wiping her hands again in abject surrender. "Yeah, I'm your girl," she sighs. "What do you need?"
To Mara:
"I shall be brief, Esteemed Engineer. Is it possible to forge a large, dura-steel or carbon-nanotube reinforced steel cutlass that can be wielded with my ship's organometallic tentacle? It should be about 1.8-2 metres long, have a spiral-shaped hilt so that it's easier for tentacle to hold it, and some sort of scabbard or latches welded onto the ship's hull where it can be stored? I would be willing to pay for it, of course, or help you in any other way I can...I've overheard what you were saying to the ninja-spawn here..."

LOOK AT BROM WITH SUSPICION

"...and I think I might have better luck explaining your needs to the people in charge of power distribution."

Look at Brom with suspicion again.

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Tue Oct 30, 2018 3:40 am
by Cha0zz
Walk in, take Buck's rations and eat them
Mumble with a mouthful:
"Bob like chicken, bob thank buck for bringing bob food, buck good friend to Bob-boss"

Walk back to crank,
"so Mr crank, is here something to do for Bob-boss?"

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sat Nov 03, 2018 10:45 am
by F4wk35
[IC]Frank[/IC]
Trembling and clutching the hand he hit Buck with, Frank reigns himself in, almost unbelieving that he just did that.

Just almost though, as Buck's attitude made it very hard to keep calm and collected, especially when Frank was already in a rather messed-up state of mind.

A mind he had a hard time pulling together anyway right now...
Hapchazzard wrote:
Mon Oct 29, 2018 5:44 am
"Someone calls that thing food!? Arskoshan dumpsters have better food! Uraliens have better food! Even a squid would be insulted if you offered it this... whatever it is! I ain't eatin' none of it - I'd rather eat my own shit! There's gotta be some kind o' manager or somethin' to speak to, 'cause this is gettin' beyond crazy!
Hearing that, Frank unconciously moves towards Brenna, still keeping his eyes on Buck. Just enough to be nearby, but not to block their gaze towards each other.

Even so, cold creeps up his spine. Frank's mind though barely comprehends the happenings before him.

As he still tries to get even a fraction of a calm head...
Hapchazzard wrote:
Mon Oct 29, 2018 5:44 am
if we were on a real proper free n' democratic planet now, you'd get shot for sayin' that kind o' ridiculous crap!"
Broken during the fight back at the grav-plant, shoved aside back on the Nemesis, trying to open up and getting things back in order here at the mess hall...

Images turning up, the first landing already. Civilians mowed down mercilessly. Even as he used a tranquilizer, Frank had a hand in that. It sickened him, not only now, he noticed.

At some points though...

"Shot...? For what...?"

Trembling, taking a slow step towards Buck. Frank's voice is disbelieving...

"Are you blind? Are you deaf?"
Or are you just a murderous moron...?

As he steps closer, his voice rises steadily. Crushing the surrounding silence, grabbing for everyone's attention.

"What do you think this is? A luxury cruise? A nice journey? This here is almost not even a wreck! Barely holding together! Didn't you hear her? Most of back there is shot to hell! Be glad that we even have that much! Be glad that we even have enough to reach anywhere at all!

Standing right before Buck, Frank grabs into his uniform's shirt, pushing him back with all his power. Leaving restraint behind he snarls at Buck.

"Fight monsters? Almost killed? What do you think makes you deserve a reward?!?"

Frank pushes further, lowering his voice again, but still snarling hatefully.

"What about them? They fought us. They fought you. They fought monsters! They were killed! What did they do different? Why do they not deserve a reward. Were they guilty like we are?! Tell me that!"

Pushing Buck away as much as possible, Frank looks him in the eyes. There's no challenge in his gaze, no hatred. Only a part of the cold he felt back at the grav-plant.

"Get out! Get out and use your head for something else than a bottle of booze before you say something!"

Glare after Buck as he leaves.

Saoirse wrote:Offering hesitant comfort
As Saoirse speaks, Frank's face turns to a pained expression for a moment.
He hesitantly lets his shoulders slump before straightening up again, still slightly glaring.
It's visible though, that the agitation mostly burned out for now...

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2018 9:07 am
by Hapchazzard
[IC]Buck[/IC]
Cha0zz wrote:
Tue Oct 30, 2018 3:40 am
"Bob like chicken, bob thank buck for bringing bob food, buck good friend to Bob-boss"
As I'm holding up the ration bar and criticizing it, notice that someone just grabbed it from my hand from behind and took it. Turn around and say:

"What the - HEY! Well, guess I wasn't plannin on eatin' that crap anyway! No problem, you can keep it, bud!"

Now somewhat cheered up because Bob thanked/complimented me:

"Now, as I was sayin' - "
F4wk35 wrote:
Sat Nov 03, 2018 10:45 am
What do you think this is? A luxury cruise? A nice journey? This here is almost not even a wreck! Barely holding together! Didn't you hear her? Most of back there is shot to hell! Be glad that we even have that much! Be glad that we even have enough to reach anywhere at all!
Focus on Frank again:

"Huh? If the pantry got shot up, why the hell do they still have these crappy ration bars? Shouldn't they've been blown up too? I'm bettin' there's still fried chicken n' booze stowed away somewhere, but the greedy fukcs that run this joint are hidin' it for themselves!"
F4wk35 wrote:
Sat Nov 03, 2018 10:45 am
Standing right before Buck, Frank grabs into his uniform's shirt, pushing him back with all his power. Leaving restraint behind he snarls at Buck.

"Fight monsters? Almost killed? What do you think makes you deserve a reward?!?"

Frank pushes further, lowering his voice again, but still snarling hatefully.

"What about them? They fought us. They fought you. They fought monsters! They were killed! What did they do different? Why do they not deserve a reward. Were they guilty like we are?! Tell me that!"
Grab onto Frank's uniform as well, pushing him in return

"They're SQUIDS, asshat! They're scum that can't be trusted, n' you're defendin' them 'cause you're tryin' to look all cool n' wise or somethin'! They hate us as much as we hate them, n' if you're too stupid to see that, you ain't gonna be lastin' long in alien-infested space! N' I ain't even askin' for a reward, just to be treated like a person, not cattle!"
F4wk35 wrote:
Sat Nov 03, 2018 10:45 am
Pushing Buck away as much as possible, Frank looks him in the eyes. There's no challenge in his gaze, no hatred. Only a part of the cold he felt back at the grav-plant.

"Get out! Get out and use your head for something else than a bottle of booze before you say something!"
Buck tries to push Frank away in turn

"Oh, fukc off! I know this is probably the first time in your life that you ain't bein' coddled on some comfy inner world n' that this is a very special moment or somethin' for you, but for me it ain't. I've been doin' this kind o' shit for the last 10 years, n' I ain't gonna be lecterned by a bunch o' fancy-speakin' inner-world water-drinkers on how I should do my job! If y'all wanna get killed by aliens or other scum 'cause you're tryin' to be all 'goody-two-shoes' or somethin', be my guest, but I prefer to stay alive, so don't expect me to buy into your bullshit!"

Storm away out of the cafeteria
Wander aimlessly throughout the ship to cool my head
When I calm down, start broodingly planning my next move, mumbling to myself

"Goddamn captains n' the cook hoardin' all the food for themselves while us good honest folk starve... I've gotta do somethin', like... like a riot! Yeah, a mighty fine riot always fixed shit back home!"
Smile proudly at my ingenious plan then quickly frown upon realizing that it wouldn't work
"DAMN IT! I forgot that almost everyone in this here flyin' tin can is a lazy, good-for-nothin' pansy - I'd never find enough people for a real proper riot! It's so damn hard to think when I'm this dry n' starvin'... maybe I can just pay one of the captains to give me their portion?"
Look for the captain

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sun Nov 04, 2018 2:46 pm
by Hema
“Thank you for your assistance, Mara. You couldn't have chosen a better person for the job.
You can consider the problem dealt with. In a short while, you will have all the power you could ever need, and then some! Or my name isn't Brom Keegan!”

Give a thumbs up and one of my signature smiles to Mara, and depart for the main reactor.
When I arrive, inquire as to the whereabouts of the man/woman in charge.
Once I have their location, approach and introduce myself.

“Greetings fellow crewman! It is I, the great Brom Keegan of legend!
Master assassin, professional business man, savior of Ermhelm, and acclaimed teacher!"
Offer handshake
"You may remember hearing stories of my past adventures.
We'll have time to go over them in detail later, right now I'm here to complete a task and I need your help.

Not but a moment ago I was in the Hangar, and Mara -the woman in charge- requested (begged really) that I come down here and try to solve some issues she's been having with the power.
Well being the chivalrous man I am, I couldn't just stand by and watch her suffer, so here I am!
I realize that in your position, solving her power issues may not be as simple as flipping a switch to provide her with the power she needs, so I am ready to offer my assistance as needed.”

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 9:29 am
by Dinosawer
[IC]Saoirse[/IC]
I quietly hobble towards the commotion, but stop short a few meters away, not quite sure if I should say anything.
After Buck walks away, I quietly say to Frank
"Er, I-I agree with you, for what it's worth..."

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Mon Nov 05, 2018 10:19 pm
by TotallyNotHuman
Hapchazzard wrote:
Sun Nov 04, 2018 9:07 am
Storm away out of the cafeteria
Wander aimlessly throughout the ship to cool my head
When I calm down, start broodingly planning my next move, mumbling to myself

"Goddamn captains n' the cook hoardin' all the food for themselves while us good honest folk starve... I've gotta do somethin', like... like a riot! Yeah, a mighty fine riot always fixed shit back home!"
Smile proudly at my ingenious plan then quickly frown upon realizing that it wouldn't work
"DAMN IT! I forgot that almost everyone in this here flyin' tin can is a lazy, good-for-nothin' pansy - I'd never find enough people for a real proper riot! It's so damn hard to think when I'm this dry n' starvin'... maybe I can just pay one of the captains to give me their portion?"
Look for the captain
If there is someone near me in line, turn to them and say,
Damn, Buck really is crazy for some real food, eh?
If no one is, mutter same and chuckle to myself.
Wait my turn at the counter,
then ask for anything (don't care) and a bottle of water.
Take the proffered food and find a table to sit down and eat.
Try to find a table with my squad, but sit by myself if they're not seated.
In any case, start eating.

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Thu Nov 08, 2018 9:36 am
by Dinosawer
[IC]Saoirse[/IC]
F4wk35 wrote:
Sat Nov 03, 2018 10:45 am
Saoirse wrote:Offering hesitant comfort
As Saoirse speaks, Frank's face turns to a pained expression for a moment.
He hesitantly lets his shoulders slump before straightening up again, still slightly glaring.
It's visible though, that the agitation mostly burned out for now...
Not sure what to say further, but also unwilling to just walk away, I awkwardly stand there for a bit, trying (and probably failing) to radiate a comforting presence.
Then I remember I came here to get dinner and turn to Brenna - if she's not busy or talking to someone or so, I politely and cheerfully ask for a vegetarian ration and some mediwater.

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sat Nov 10, 2018 3:50 pm
by Talvieno
Update time!
((There may be some errors here and there, especially involving the letter e. My keyboard is going out.))

((See also: viewtopic.php?f=29&t=6651&p=165349#p165349))

(("You'll have to tell me more about yourself, Caleb," Cho says encouragingly, her arm around him to support him.))

The young inmate, high off his ass on painkillers, wonders... were her eyes always so damn captivating?? Caleb feels like a new man - like he's finally opened his eyes to the sheer beauty of the universe. "I'm, uh... I'm Caleb," he mumbles, trying to tear his gaze away. Then he realizes something too late, and blurts his thoughts: "Shit, you already knew that..." Bravely, like the soldier he is, Caleb tries to take more of his weight on his own, shifting away from Cho... but he's still so fukcing high that all he manages to do is shift his weight onto her. She stumbles - as does he - and FTO Cho ends up with her back pressed to the flat outer wall of a nearby fueling pump.

As she realizes that Caleb is only inches from her face, she laughs - partly out of discomfort, but mostly out of amusement. "Are you okay, Caleb?" she asks suspiciously, but with a playful air. "How much medicine did they give you?"

"Medicine? I don't neeeeeed medicine," he slurs, trying to sound macho. Cho giggles again, and Caleb goes on in a grandiose tone, "I come from a military family, you know. I'm a soldier, and my father was a soldier too. He said to me, he said - he said -" He pauses for a moment to recollect himself. The idea has entered his head to impress Cho somehow, and what do girls like? A good laugh, of course, and confidence. The half-baked plan forms instantly in his mind: imitate his dad. And so he lowers his voice a bit and puts on a stern expression. "Boy, there's a number of things you should know about the world. You've heard most of them time and time again, but I really need to stress that you have to watch out for women, Caleb, because they're -" Caleb stops short in horror, realizing (again too late) that he almost committed what would've been a serious blunder. Cho is staring curiously into Caleb's eyes, too, which isn't helping things. "Uhhhh," he mumbles, paling slightly. "So, uh..."

"Because they're what?" Cho prompts him to continue, raising a curious eyebrow. Her braids are adorable, and he can't really help but notice.

"They're too cute," Caleb blurts, and then catching himself far too late this time, turns beet red.

Cho blushes and laughs heartily, still pressed against the wall. "I really think you've had way too many painkillers, Caleb." Her voice twinkles like music, drawing Caleb ever closer. Cho begins to look for an exit.

But there is no exit. ((horror movie music starts))

Caleb stumbles, putting his hands against her shoulders and pushing her against the wall as he stares rapturously into her eyes. "OH!" she yelps, surprised - but Caleb doesn't seem to notice. He gives an awkward, drunken smile with just enough teeth to be creepy as he says, "So, anyway, uhhhh... wanna maybe get some food? We can talk... somewhere... 'less open'?" He adds a "charming wink" to the end of this proposition.

((horror movie music continues))

Now, completely understandably, given Caleb's body language, Cho fully believes he intends to initiate a sexual encounter with her. This is fairly unfortunate, not because Cho is already seeing someone right now (she isn't) but because she isn't quite the type of person to want to bang someone she met three minutes ago (as it seems like Caleb most certainly is). Fortunately for Caleb, he has a fairly good wingman - specifically, the excuse of his medication. Completely ignoring the second half of his proposal, Cho slips out from under him, sliding against the wall to escape. "Caleb, I think you've had way too much medication," she asserts. "I do think it would be a good idea to get some food in you, though! We should head down to the mess hall, okay? That's right, put your hand there," Cho says, putting Caleb's arm behind her back. "Yeah, just like that. See, we'll get there, don't worry!"

With some difficulty, she manages to steer him out of the hangar and up the stairs. On their way to the mess hall, she is very careful to make sure they don't accidentally duck into anywhere "less open".

Just in case.


~~~


Vynkor stares at Hoffman, the armory officer. A grin is creeping across her face, ever so slowly. To some degree, she enjoys seeing his discomfort. "What, are there things I don't want to cut?" She pauses for dramatic effect, and then continues, "Listen, I'll just take the hand one for now. And I think you underestimate the utility of a nice sharp edge to cut the duct tape. Keeps it neat without marring the adhesive, you see."

Hoffman nods. "Hmm, I see, aye. Okay, lass, I'll get it taken care of, don't you worry." He types something into his PDA. "We'll replace your arm prior to your next expedition."

That wasn't too hard, was it?



Hopefully Ishmael's request won't be any more difficult...

~~~

((Mara sighs, wiping her hands again in abject surrender. "Yeah, I'm your girl," she sighs. "What do you need?"))

"I shall be brief, esteemed engineer," Ishmael begins in a tone of great importance. "Is it possible to forge a large dura-steel- or carbon-nanotube- reinforced steel cutlass that can be wielded with my ship's organometallic tentacle? It should be about 1.8-2 meters long, have a spiral-shaped hilt so that it's easier for tentacle to hold it, and some sort of scabbard or latches welded onto the ship's hull where it can be stored? I would be willing to pay for it, of course, or help you in any other way I can..."

As he begins speaking, Mara looks like she's starting to grow exasperated with his request, but as he goes on, she gradually becomes more open to him - owing largely to his presentation and politeness. "It's a tall order, y'know," she says, wiping her hands off on her workclothes. "We don't have much manufacturing tech up and running right now."

Ishmael nods, and then continues thoughtfully, "I've overheard what you were saying to the, ah... ninja-spawn here... and I think I might have better luck explaining your needs to the people in charge of power distribution."

Mara shrugs. "If you want to go take care of that, be my guest. Make a contest of it even, I don't care, just make sure it gets done." She picks up her toolkit and starts to climb back into the vehicle, getting back to work. As she descends, she calls out in a much louder voice, "Don't forget, I need that extra juice!"

And so, Ishmael leaves Mara and the hangar, headed for the reactor.


On the absolute opposite end of the ship from the reactor, all the way in the bow, the fight continues in the hangar....

~~~

Following the punch and brief shouting match, Frank steps back uncomfortably, a bit surprised at himself. Buck's attitude made it very hard to keep control of himself - especially after everything that happened down on the surface.

Buck looks around and notices that everyone is staring at him. "What? Why the hell's everyone just... starin'? Seriously, y'all's givin' me the creeps! You know what's also givin' me the creeps? This 'ere stuff!" He points at the chicken ration bar Brenna has sat down on the counter. "Someone calls that thing food!? Arskoshan dumpsters have better food! Uraliens have better food! Even a squid would be insulted!" He continues ranting for a while, and nobody attempts to interrupt him - not even Frank, who is still trying to recover his wits.


In line, Gene turns around and whispers quietly to Bob, "Damn, Buck really is crazy for some real food, isn't he?"

Bob gives a little nod, and seems about to say something, when he suddenly sights Buck's rations sitting unattended on the counter. His eyes widen and a smile breaks across his face. Bob walks over quickly, grabs the rations, and begins eating them happily, completely oblivious to the argument between Buck and Frank - it's already lost his attention. From the looks of it, someone missed naptime - at least as far as Bob can tell. He takes a bite off the bar and says encouragingly to Brenna (over all the noise), "Bob like chicken! Bob thank Buck and Brenna for bringing Bob food - good friend to Bob-boss!" Unfortunately he's barely comprehensible thanks to all the food in his mouth.

Brenna seems somewhat unsure of how to respond to this, but nevertheless nods and gives a thumbs-up.

"What the - HEY!" Buck shouts, noticing what Bob has done. Then he catches himself and reins himself in. "Eh, I guess I wasn't plannin' on eatin' that crap anyway. No problem, you can keep it, bud. Now, as I was saying..." He begins screaming at Frank again, while Bob walks back to Crank with his newly-won ration bars.

"So, Mr. Crank!" Bob calls out, his mouth still full of food. "Is there something to do for Bob-boss?"

"Do?" Crank looks confused for a moment, before his face alights with understanding. "Oh, work and stuff? Yaha, of course! There's always tons for us big boys to do. See, Bryce - er, Mr. Mayweather - down in the hangar always has something he'd be happy with us lifting. Mara sometimes has work too. Sometimes they even give me some credits for it!" He pats his chest amicably and laughs. "You wanna go down there and see what we can rustle up?"

Meanwhile, Buck is just settling down and bringing his rant to a close, when Frank interrupts him, fists balled. So much for calming himself down. "What do you think this is? A luxury cruise? A nice journey? This here is almost not even a wreck! Barely holding together! Didn't you hear her? Most of back there is shot to hell! Be glad that we even have that much! Be glad that we even have enough to reach ANYWHERE AT ALL!!" At this point Buck is surprised when Frank grabs onto his jumpsuit. "Fight monsters? Almost killed? What do you think makes you deserve a reward?!? What about them? They fought us. They fought YOU. They fought monsters! They WERE killed! What did they do different? Why do they not deserve a reward. Were they guilty like we are?! Tell me that!"

Frank gives Buck a shove, and Buck gives Frank an angrier one in return. "They're SQUIDS, asshat! They're scum that can't be trusted, n' you're defendin' them 'cause you're tryin' to look all cool n' wise or somethin'! They hate us as much as we hate them, n' if you're too stupid to see that, you ain't gonna be lastin' long in alien-infested space!"

Frank steps back and again pushes Buck, yelling at Buck to get lost and leave everyone alone, but Buck is already in the process of rendering a shove himself, and they only succeed in separating themselves. Buck shouts, "I know this is probably the first time in your life that you ain't bein' coddled on some comfy inner world n' that this is a very special moment or somethin' for you, but for me it ain't. I've been doin' this kind o' shit for the last 10 years, n' I ain't gonna be lectured by a bunch o' fancy-speakin' inner-world water-drinkers on how I should do my job! If y'all wanna get killed by aliens or other scum 'cause you're tryin' to be all 'goody-two-shoes' or somethin', be my guest, but I prefer to stay alive, so don't expect me to buy into your bullshit!" With all this said, he turns and storms angrily out of the cafeteria, leaving the whole place silent.

On the way out, Buck passes Cho and Caleb, who are just entering the mess hall. Caleb gives him a little wave, but Buck is a little too angry at the moment to even notice. Caleb (who is feeling slightly better by now) watches him stomp down the hallway. He can't help but wonder what was up with the guy.

Frank, still fuming, stands there stolidly, watching after Buck as he leaves, when Saoirse comes up to him - very shyly and unsure of herself. "Er, I - I agree with you, for what it's worth..." she mumbles quietly, her hand hovering over his shoulder with uncertainty.

Frank's face burns red visibly for a moment, and his shoulders slump, as he realizes that the entire mess hall - Brenna included - saw his little violent outburst. His agitation has mostly burned out by now, but he says nothing to Saoirse to thank her, merely turning away - the beginning to a clearly excellent friendship.



Over the next several minutes, Brenna sorts out everyone's rations, one after another, serving Gene, Saoirse, and finally Caleb. They all go sit down and begin eating.

~~~

After giving Mara his signature smile and assuring her he was most certainly the right man for the job, Brom leaves Mara and Ishmael to their conversation and starts towards the back of the ship, where the reactor surely must be located. It's some time before he finally finds it - up a number of ladders (the elevators are still busted), across a number of suspended walkways over large sections of machinery, and finally he finds himself in the very heart of the ship - the Reactor chamber. It's probably one of the least-damaged areas of the ship, protected with incredibly thick armor. After all, this thing deals with antimatter. If you get an explosion with that stuff, the whole ship is pretty much going to get atomized. Taking no chances with it is the most logical thing to do. Brom marvels at the technology, but it's hard to forget that he's three steps from oblivion at any and all times.

All the same, he raises his voice to the various engineers bent over their holographic displays and computer systems. "Greetings, fellow crewmen!" he shouts with all the dramatic flair he can muster. Given that it's Brom we're talking about, that's a LOT of dramatic flair. "It is I, the great BROM KEEGAN of legend! Master assassin, professional businessman, savior of Ermhelm, and acclaimed teacher!" He parades around the room pompously, shaking the hand of each and every person that will accept a handshake. There aren't many. In his head, though, he almost imagines he hears fanfare, trumpets - perhaps even an orchestra celebrating his arrival - and the cheering of the adoring masses. "You may remember stories of my past adventures! I'd love to recount them all in GREAT detail, but I'm short on time! Right now I'm here to complete a task, and I need your help!"

Everyone is silent, most likely listening in rapturous awe. (In truth, everyone was silent already before he even entered the room, but it's not like Brom notices that sort of thing.)

"Not but a moment ago, I was in the hangar!" he continues. "Mara - the woman in charge - requested (she begged me, really) that I come down here to solve some of the issues she's been having with the power! Being the chivalrous man I am, I just couldn't stand by and watch the fair damsel suffer, so here I am! Now - I do realize that in your position, solving her power issues may not be as simple as flipping a switch to provide her with the power she needs, so I stand ready to offer my assistance as needed." He puffs out his chest and strikes a valorous pose to show just how ready he is. It is clearly very ready.

There's a faint tittering of confused applause, and some quiet laughter and awkward whispers around the edges of the room, when someone strolls up - someone whose sense of purpose and belonging completely overwhelms that of Brom's. "Lance Rayden," he introduces himself. He's a full head taller than Brom, and instantly seems to dominate the conversation. "I'm the lead reactor specialist here. Any and all requests go through me, which is why my guys rightly didn't step up when you asked. They're good people. I can't vouch for you, of course, never having heard of you." He says this last very plainly, with a pointed glance - enough for it to be very obvious that he heard the entirety of Brom's speech.


At this very moment, Ishmael walks in, to find Brom and Lance Rayden shaking hands. He wonders if perhaps Brom has already taken care of it - but this is an idea he quickly wipes out of his mind as preposterous and thoroughly impossible.


~~~

Deep in the medbay, in a room that's only just barely functioning, a new inmate finally awakens from cryosleep. The doctors applaud each other for the skill necessary to simply bring her out of stasis and de-freeze her without thoroughly killing her, and they hover around her vigorously, making sure all her parts are still functioning properly.

A doctor unceremoniously shoves a tablet into her hand as another sits her upright on the table. "Here, this'll explain everything," he says, as though he's already stated everything she needs to know. On its screen, SCAMPS has detailed in brief the current situation of the Nemesis - and the fact that she's been in cryo for decades.

Marina Sukava arrives on the scene, just in time for SCAMPS's debriefing of Mission 1.

((You just woke up on a makeshift medical bed. You have tubes everywhere, nurses hovering about you. You feel pissed off. You've just found out you slept through the past 50 (or however many) years, you have a splitting headache, and the fukcing docs won't stop poking and prodding you. Did I mention you're pissed off? That's your natural state of being, especially when it feels like you just got hit by a truck.))

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2018 9:48 am
by Dinosawer
[IC]Saoirse[/IC]
Talvieno wrote:
Sat Nov 10, 2018 3:50 pm
but he says nothing to Saoirse to thank her, merely turning away - the beginning to a clearly excellent friendship.
(( :lol: ))

Feeling not nearly as upset as before, but still a bit peeved, I nod at the others and say to Caleb
"Good to see you made it here, despite your terrible new handicap..."
and then continue eating.

Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

Posted: Sun Nov 11, 2018 3:33 pm
by cuisinart8
[IC]Caleb[/IC]
I feel myself coming down somewhat from the painkillers- enough to not blurt things out immediately, at least. Some part of the back of my mind compels me to wait a moment before answering, so I hide the pause I take to think in the act of taking a bite of my food. I'm still sobering up, though, so this doesn't go as well as I expected and I find myself several bites in before I get anywhere. That's when I realize- Saoirse looks rather miffed. I wrack my addled brain for a reason and suddenly recall how she stormed off before...after I talked crap about my prosthetics...in front of the girl with prosthetics...oh FSM, with how I've been acting lately, I am not liking this increased sobriety!

Remembering my...conversation with Cho and feeling quite embarrassed by it all, I shift a bit away from her. And Saoirse. This is terrible. I wish for a moment that I was either still sedated from my surgery or that they just hadn't brought me out of cryo in the first place. Being a human popsicle had to be better than this!

I awkwardly attempt to avoid eye contact with either Cho or Saoirse, trying and failing to not make this fact obvious. In a desperate attempt to end the awkward silence, I then turn to Gene.

"So...I'm Caleb. I don't think I've seen you around before."

I hold out my hand to shake and mentally beg him to not make this situation any worse than it already is.