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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#256
Well, now I feel terrible. Any annoyance I had quickly flees in the face of Saoirse's confession, and I offer a reassuring smile as I reach to shake her hand...right as someone takes The Seat. I narrowly avoid having my arm broken by the newcomer. My smile turns somewhat strained as I behold the newcomer, who seems quite happy to flaunt her...assets to the entire table. I shoot a confused look at the others for a moment before mouthing "Friends" at Saoirse. I decide to try and ignore the newcomer's rather rude entrance, no reason to piss off yet another person today.

I still give the newcomer a rather pointed look, though. "No, not at all. I don't recognize you, and you don't look like crew. They just wake you up?"
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#258
[IC]Caleb[/IC]
Triggerhappy wrote:
Tue Nov 13, 2018 10:13 pm
"Indeed! My name is Marina, nice to meet you!"

Offer a hand to the man, forcing myself to keep the pleasant smile and not cringe when he shakes the metal.
Huh, she doesn't seem so bad. Certainly a damn sight better than that Anabais asshole. I shake Marina's hand. It's nice to see we lucked out and got someone else on the team who's sane.

"I'm Caleb, with Beta Squad. That's Saoirse, also from Beta, Gene, and Frank, from Alpha. And that's Cho, our FTO," I say, pointing out each of our tablemates in turn.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#259
cuisinart8 wrote:
Tue Nov 13, 2018 10:20 pm
[IC]Caleb[/IC]

Huh, she doesn't seem so bad. Certainly a damn sight better than that Anabais asshole. I shake Marina's hand. It's nice to see we lucked out and got someone else on the team who's sane.

"I'm Caleb, with Beta Squad. That's Saoirse, also from Beta, Gene, and Frank, from Alpha. And that's Cho, our FTO," I say, pointing out each of our tablemates in turn.
Good, he relaxed a bit. I am not too badly out of practice.

Smile and nod at each.

A hairy, scratched dwarf. An utterly miserable-looking half-toaster. Another scarred blue-eyed piece of cannon fodder. A wheezing low-income looking stick figure. Slant-eyed officer with the aura of a spinning top, not in orange overalls.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#260
[IC]Saoirse[/IC]
Only paying attention to Caleb and not to my surroundings, I jolt back a bit as suddenly a pretty attractive woman plops down next to me, but still catch Caleb silently saying "Friends".
Feeling a confusing mix of happiness, anxiety and fluster, I merely nod to Marina as my name is mentioned, and mentally shelve away what I still wanted to say to Caleb for later.
Last edited by Dinosawer on Thu Nov 15, 2018 6:19 am, edited 1 time in total.
Warning: do not ask about physics unless you really want to know about physics.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#261
[IC]Frank[/IC]
After that fiasco with The Chair Frank was left wondering how exactly they got into that situation, drawing a blank.
cuisinart8 wrote:
Tue Nov 13, 2018 10:20 pm
"I'm Caleb, with Beta Squad. That's Saoirse, also from Beta, Gene, and Frank, from Alpha. And that's Cho, our FTO," I say, pointing out each of our tablemates in turn.
At the mention of his name, he perks up for a moment and throws a look at the newcomer.
Before the mission, it would've been hard for him to look away again, she hit a lot of spots after all...
But right now he neither had the nerves to do so, nor the trust in most of the other inmates...
Apparently, sometimes stuff might happen.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#262
Approach Lance Ryden, greet him with a simple, but courteous nod, and indicate that I'd wish to speak to him later. Stand to the side, and listen to conversation between him and the ninja-spawn.

Truly, when the Lord wishes to punish a man, he taketh his sanity away!

Try to measure the size of the Brom's ego. Give up half-way, and try to estimate it instead, with +/- 10 parsec error margin. Give it up as an exercise in futility as well. Stare at Brom intently, trying to make him feel uncomfortable.
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Survivor of the Josh Parnell Blackout of 2015.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#264
[IC]Saoirse[/IC]
I finish my meal.
When we get called to debrief, I do a little one legged hop around to retrieve my crutches from the floor while the others walk off, and then softly call out to Caleb to get him to stay behind a bit

"Hey, er, Caleb...
err, well, I'm not a military person, but... your legs got hurt while you were trying defend your squadmates from an attacking fighter, on foot, with only an alien gun you never used before... if that's not acting like a soldier, then I don't know what is. Just saying."
And then hobble on to debrief.
Warning: do not ask about physics unless you really want to know about physics.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#265
[IC]Frank[/IC]
Kneading his hands, silently staring ahead, Frank only just notices that he knows pretty much nothing of the people at the table.
Even Gene, who was in Alpha-squad with him, was mostly a blank paper for him.
He didn't say much though...

Still...the point was...everyone here could turn out to be like Brom or Buck...
A way to look at things that Frank didn't enjoy...
Didn't make the thought invalid though...

When people are called in for the briefing
-Get up and move to it
-Once there, take position apart from Buck.
Apparently, sometimes stuff might happen.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#268
[IC]Frank[/IC]
But as his head cleared up a bit, as Frank went over that thought again, he noted that it actually couldn't be that way...
Frank could just not imagine some people here turn out like most of Alpha-squad did...

The frown he developed unconciously turned lighter at that.

Brenna, for example, or Cho...

Caleb, even though they didn't work together much (most in the VR anyway, he thought with a shiver) left a good impression, even in the simulated battle (another shiver).
From how Saoirse spoke to Caleb and how she recounted a bit of her past, she too seemed a lot more grounded.

He decided for himself to try and not apply a negative impression to them. At least to non-alpha's...


On the way to the debriefing, offer a hand to Caleb and Saoirse, can't leave them hobbling through half the ship after all.


((Sorry I'm so late! >.<))
Apparently, sometimes stuff might happen.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#269
Update time!!!
((Last one before the debriefing! I'm going to teleport you guys all there so you don't have to go through the whole boring, repetitive "I go to the conference room". We'll just cut to that scene like it's a movie. I'll get it posted shortly!))


  Not to be thwarted by Lance's charisma, Brom kicks it up a notch. He strikes a manly pose and offers the officer his hand, crying out in a booming voice, "A pleasure to meet you, Mr. Rayden! It's a bit saddening that you've not yet heard of me, but it's not entirely unexpected. Many years have passed since I last graced the galaxy, so it's only natural that a few people would be ignorant."
  The handshake is rapidly becoming a contest of strength. Both Brom and Lance, eyes locked in a death stare, are trying to out-squeeze each others' hands. It's a silent battle where each are trying to hold a grip ever-so-slightly tighter than the other's before either withdrawing or being unable to grip any tighter. Both men are silently gritting their teeth to avoid making any mention of it. Eyes still locked, Lance points out in an outwardly-friendly tone, "The galaxy is pretty vast, Mr. Brom. It's only natural that small-town heroes wouldn't be heard of by those that lived elsewhere, but I have no doubt you'll make yourself known here too."
  "I promise you that in a few short years, there will not be a creature alive who does not know my name! You can be certain of that, for I always keep my word." He smiles broadly at Lance, who finally surrenders and withdraws his hand from the everlasting handshake, wincing just enough for it to be perceptible and flexing his fingers. Brom, having won this round, turns and winks at the nearest woman, who smiles brightly at his glance. "Now, let's get back to business!" he says. "I've come to solve Mara's power troubles, and you had better believe that I will move heaven and earth to achieve that goal! Now what say you, Lance Rayden? Are you going to let the chance to work with a galactic legend slip through your fingers? Or will you provide me the chance to help those aboard this ship? Choose your answer wisely, as an opportunity like this may not come again!"
  Through all this, Ishmael sits to the side, watching Brom with growing horror. Truly, when the FSM wishes to curse a man, he takes away his sanity and gifts him with illusions. Ishmael makes a solid attempt to measure the size of the Brom's ego. He then gives up halfway, and tries to estimate it instead, with a 10 parsec error margin. This, too, is given up as well as an exercise in futility.
  
  After a short conversation, Brom finally leaves, strutting proudly off. Ishmael walks over to Lance (who is still massaging his hand). "Greetings," he says cordially. "I would like to apologize for the ninja-spawn's behavior. He acts this way to everyone."
  "Does he now?" Lance grunts. "He's got a hell of a grip, I'll give him that. I told him I'd take care of the power situation to get him to leave. He just didn't understand, everybody needs power. I'm trying to let the guys down under the decks work on the hull the way they want to. The lights are already flickering between decks."
  "Mara does need that power, though," Ishmael reminds him calmly. "If we came under attack, it would be important that our fighters were repaired."
  After hesitating for a moment, Lance finally nods. "Yeah, you're right. That should probably take priority. I'll see if I can have my people reroute power from the bow of the ship to help with the hangar and engineering. You seem a lot saner than Brom, Mr...?"
  "Call me Ishmael," the priest says humbly, giving a respectful bow of the head. "Dr. Ishmael."

~~~

  As the haziness begins to clear, Sukava looks down at a pair of ugly, unfamiliar hands. She wills the fingers to open, close - they do so on command. They're attached to her... but they're not hers. They're nothing like the sleek, sexy precision models she had before. My hands... they took away my hands, she thinks angrily. She looks around the little room and realizes further that she's no longer in prison.
  Someone shoves a PDA into her hands. "Read up," he advises. He's wearing a labcoat - no, a frock. He's a doctor, Sukava realizes. In fact, they're all doctors - the room is positively swarming with them. One of them seems to be trying to test her reflexes - she ignores the woman completely, turns her head pointedly towards the tablet, and reads.
  Feel groggy? Headache? Eyes burning? Let me give it to you straight. It's the year 3152, and we just woke you up from cryosleep. [...]
  Interesting. Cryosleep? She hadn't known that technology existed. Perhaps more importantly, it's been a whole six years since she was up and about - enough for anyone looking for her to think she was dead. This is also good - it's something she can use to her advantage.

  Getting to her feet, Sukava pulls the IVs from her chest (amidst startled shouts from the doctors) and marches from the room.
  "Wait, we still have tests we need to run!" one of them shouts, trying to slow her down. "Look, just let us run a few tests - it's just a few minutes more!"
  "I'm fine," Sukava mutters, glowering at the man with a force sufficient for him to shrink back. "I need somewhere quiet." She's pissed off and disoriented. The doctors seem to sense the "pissed off" part a lot more than the disorientation, and gradually fall away, leaving her to her thoughts in a quiet hallway. With everyone finally gone, she takes out the tablet and reads the rest.
  Welcome to The Nemesis, gentlemen. You're aboard what's left of a battle cruiser that got shot down above a shit-stain Hiltorel planet ... She reads the rest.

  "Aw, goddamn," a squattish man says, walking backward clumsily as he tries to read a sign on the wall. "Where the goddamn hell am I? Where's... where's the bridge? Wait, haven't I been here already? This goddamn ship is so confusing!" He has the name "Buck" emblazoned clearly across his back.
  Sensing an opportunity, Sukava steps out into the open, letting Buck wander into her.
  Buck almost falls over, stumbling back and reeling to look at the unexpected newcomer. "Oh, hey, partner!" he says, trying to be friendly. "Where the hell am I? I swear, this place is like one o' them mazes rich folk have in their yard! 'Cept this one's made o' tin instead o' grass, so you can't just bust through the walls! I've some urgent business with the captain, but he's so hidden on this ship that I'm starting to think I'll never find him!"
  Sukava smiles the smile of a wily predator. "Hey, handsome," she says smoothly. "The medical bay is back that way, if it helps. What's a man like you looking for?"
  "The captain, 'cause there's literally no food or drinks on the ship! I mean, we're just back from fightin' them disgustin' aliens out there, only to come back for that asshole in the kitchen to tell me they dun' have anythin' to eat or drink! The hell kind o' kitchen has no food!? What are they expectin' us to do, lie down n' starve? I'm goin' to the captain to tell 'em that this here is some real bullshit!" Pausing for a moment uncertainly, Buck sizes the woman back up again, and finally decides she's probably trustworthy. "...And maybe I can pay him to give me some o' his own. Anyways, dun' remember you from the mission. Were you in that Ana-somethin' woman's squad? Or..." .... "...with that robo-alien-woman?" He means Saoirse, of course, and the description is laced with hatred.
  "Nope, they just woke me up," Sukava explains - truthfully. "I can't believe stealing liquor from a bar got me sent here!" She offers her hand to Buck.
  Buck shakes her hand. "What!? Sent here for stealin' booze!? That's some real bullshit! I mean, I get stealin's bad, but everyone has their needs, ya can't fault 'em for that! You must be one o' them shitty shithole planets with a pansy govnerment that tries to control everythin' their people do!"
  Sukava nods sadly. "Yeah, that's me. If you're looking for the captain, though, have you tried the bridge?" After orienting herself on her PDA map, she gives him the absolutely wrong direction,, pointing him towards the engine room. "It should be that way."
  Grateful, Buck smiles and gives a sharp nod. "Well, at least it's nice to see some real good, honest folk on this ship, though I've gotta warn ya - bein' nice n' kind won't do you no favors when you're out here. The kind o' things we're dealin' with are absolutely terrible, n' you'll see for yourself! It's a good thing there's battle-hardened soldiers like me who've seen all the tricks they have, so you'll have who to learn from! Anyways, catch ya later, I need to speak to the captain! Name's Buck, by the way." And he heads off towards the "bridge".
  "See you later!" Sukava calls after him with a friendly wave, before muttering under her breath, "Fat fukcing pig." She then goes back to reading the situation debrief... and herself walks towards the mess hall, away from where she sent Buck.

~~~

  "Bob wanna work! Bob bored, working Bob not bored Bob!" Bob cries out happily at the prospect of actually having something to do.
  Crank laughs. "Yaha, man after my own heart! We'll get us something to do, no worries!"
  The two of them exit the mess hall and head towards the hangar.
  After a time, Bob asks, "Hmm, Crank - who is nicest?"
  "Nicest? Nicest who?" the biomech is legitimately confused.
  "In the hangar!"
  "OH! Oh, right! Well, now, see, there's Mara, but she can be kinda grumpy sometimes. Still a great gal, though! Then there's Bryce, he's pretty annoyed if you bust up your ships though."
  "Bob busted up his ship," Bob admits.
  Crank nods. 'Yaha, it happens, y'know? Oh, but he'd be nice if you told him you wanted to help! Oh, and then there's Guernick! But, ah... well." He pauses, thinking. "Yeah, you said nice, didn't you? Guernick isn't really any fun, he's a big ol' stick in the mud. Knows how to make stuff work but he's not good to hang out with, ha!"
  "Okay, Bryce! Bob talk to Bryce!" Bob decides excitedly, jumping as they walk. "Bryce give Bob work!"
  "Yeah, and me too!" Crank laughs.
  But they never make it to the hangar - before they get there, Bob's PDA lights up with a summons from SCAMPS. It's time for the debriefing.

~~~

  The stage is set. Gene, Cho, Saoirse, and Caleb all sit at a table together, eating their rations. Saoirse and Caleb sit beside each other - despite their awkwardness. To Caleb, Saoirse gives him a look out of the corner of her eye and says in a sardonic tone, "Good to see you made it here, despite your terrible new handicap..."
  Caleb, not quite high as balls anymore, is starting to come down just enough to realize that he managed to make Cho seriously uncomfortable... and Saoirse seems to dislike him too now for whatever reason. A flash of drama takes hold of him, and he wails internally at his plight. This is terrible! Even being a human popsicle was better than this!
  Cho sits awkwardly across from everyone, looking to her left a bit uncomfortably as Gene scarfs down his ration bar.
  The silence is deafening - and awkward.
  "So, uh... Gene," Caleb begins, reading Gene's name emblazoned across his jumpsuit (and trying to avoid eye contact with 67% of the people at the table). "I'm Caleb," he introduces himself, reaching across the table. "I don't think I've seen you around before."
  Gene (hunched over his food) pauses his Stuffing Of The Face for just a brief moment - long enough to glare at Caleb from under bushy eyebrows with a look that clearly means, "Uh, hello? I'm eating." Then he resumes his meal, leaving Caleb to awkwardly withdraw his hand and put it in his lap.
  The meal is going amazingly.
  
  Just then, Vynkor wanders into the mess hall and walks over to Brenna at the counter. "One ration bar, and surprise me," she says, laying a hand on the counter as she sizes up the situation in the room. The most awkward table of people she's ever seen in her entire life is sitting only twenty feet away - and Frank is walking over to it with food at this very moment. When Brenna comes back with a ration that appears to be spinach-and-broccoli flavored. There's also something else on the cover that makes Vynkor wince, but... well, given she was raised on nutrient goop, she's definitely had worse. She decides to stomach it instead of complaining. Complaining isn't something she's used to doing, anyway.
  "So," Vynkor inquires of Brenna, "What's up with those guys?" She gives a little head motion to indicate Saoirse's table. "Did someone upset Mr. Spoon-in-a-microwave?"
  Brenna raises an eyebrow and awkwardly busies herself with cleaning the already-sparkling countertop. "Who now? You mean Frank?" At a nod from Vynk, she continues, "Yeah, Frank got in a big fight with Buck. Buck was being a bit of an ass, though. You know them well?"
  Vynkor gives a little nod and sits down in one of the chairs by the counter. "They were my squadmates last mission," she explains. "And they're both 'a bit of an ass'."
  "Frank? You must not know him very well. Frank's a sweetheart! He's really clever, too."
  A sly smirk creeps over Vynkor's face as she deliberately chews her food. "Is he now?" she asks rhetorically. "I've got a story to tell you then..."

  Frank looks over towards the table where Caleb and Saoirse are seated. He feels miserable. The fight with Buck was bad enough by itself, but the fact that it was witnessed by all those people just makes him feel embarrassed too. He quietly walks over towards his squadmates and apologizes lamely. "Sorry for that..."
  Caleb, glad to have a distraction to the horrible unpleasantness of the "conversation" so far, waves a hand in Frank's direction. "Hey, what's up, man? Haven't seen you since we got back!" (He didn't arrive in time to see Frank's fight.) "You don't look too good - something go wrong?"
  Pretending he hadn't said a thing, Saoirse leans out directly in front of Caleb to block him from Frank's view. "It's okay, Frank," she assures him, "Buck seems to have that effect on people. He got me shouting at him earlier too." Then she pats the seat to her left softly. "Have a seat and eat a bit. You'll feel better, I think."
  "Yeah!" Caleb pipes up, trying to see around Saoirse. He pulls out a seat to his right, opposite Saoirse. "Come have a seat Frank!"
  Saoirse glances back at Caleb and realizes he's pulled out his own chair. She gives him a little hurt glare (which he doesn't notice) and turns back to Frank, giving him a very meaningful, pleading look. "Right here, Frank," she croons, patting the seat next to her loudly. Caleb finally notices this, and suddenly realizes that Saoirse is doing it spitefully - and he responds in kind, slapping the chair next to him with dramatic emphasis. "Right here, Frank! Just come on and sit down!"
  "Fraaaaaaank!!!" Cho interrupts, calling out his name sweetly over the voices of the others, "Come and sit!" She pats the chair between her and Gene, trying to offer Frank an out. Gene just grunts, glares, and goes back to his food.
  "Uhhhhh... I, uh..." Frank stutters. It's impossible not to notice the tension in the air between Saoirse and Caleb - especially when it's so thick. It's almost hard to breathe, even. "I'll sit, uh... um." Three choices? Whoever I don't sit next to will be greatly hurt and offended, he realizes. Why does this sort of thing always happen to me?!?
  To her credit, Saoirse notices Frank's indecision and relents, trying to pick up the chair she's been patting. It's heavier than she thought, and gets stuck on the table (and her leg) as she tries awkwardly to move it over her lap to the spot between her and Caleb - and she ends up hitting Caleb in the face with it before she finally roughly positions it where she wanted.
  "Hey!" Caleb shouts, trying to regain his balance. He doesn't feel a thing, thanks to all the painkillers he's hopped up on, but all the same, he's coming back down from them just enough to finally realize Saoirse is maybe not entirely happy with him. Aw, man, he thinks, She's mad at me? What, how did that happen? Shit, I gotta fix things up before this goes too far! ...But how?
  "Frank, sit here" Saoirse says calmly, patting the moved seat. She tries very hard to pretend that moving the seat wasn't awkward, giving her prettiest smile. Unfortunately, this toothy grin just makes her somewhat reminiscent of a witch, which does not help Frank's confidence.
  "Uhhhh." Frank mutters in anxiety-driven confusion. Really, sit between the quarreling two? What the hell? Hell no. He'd rather fight Buck again than do that.
  Caleb seizes on the opportunity like a dying man seizes food and places a hand very solidly on the Compromise Chair. "Frank, just sit here!" he calls out, pretending the whole incident wasn't even happening... until he realizes that he's placed his hand on top of Saoirse's prosthetic hand.
  Saoirse gives Caleb an odd, awkward look, and slowly pulls her hand out from underneath his, pointedly dropping it on the table with an audible thump, as Caleb realizes his blunder (fourth, fifth at this point? Not counting the Cho Incident) a little too late. He wishes he could melt into the floor - or turn back time somehow. As he is presently incapable of either of these parlor tricks, he simply removes his hand from the chair, places it in his lap, and looks off in a random direction. Humming feels natural. That's a safe thing to do, right? Nobody's ever been offended by humming. And so, Caleb starts humming as he stares off into space, scratching the back of his head in the most unintentionally-awkward manner possibly.
  Across the table, Gene is completely oblivious to the intense drama unfolding a meter away. "You all right there, Caleb?" he asks, trying to make conversation. "Ration bar making you sick? I getcha, man, this thing is barely edible. Just gotta get used to it, is all." He takes a gulp of his water and then reaches across the table to point at Caleb's second bar. "You going to eat that, by the way?" When there's no answer after a few seconds, he grabs it and rips open the packaging, beginning to eat it just as ravenously as the last one.
  "Hey Frank!" someone calls out - Vynkor, from over near the counter. "You looking for a place to sit? How about you come sit with your old pal, Vynkor! We can discuss the finer points of microwavese, and their interactions with metal buildings." Over her shoulder, to Brenna: "You wouldn't happen to have a microwave oven lying around for... demonstrations, would you?"

  Frank is thoroughly stressed. Not even missions are this bad. He'd gladly fight off two - no, three - no, four or five, maybe even six Supermega Alphadrakes than have to make this decision. His palms are starting to sweat.

  "The ration bars aren't that bad," Caleb says, a little miffed that Gene took his second bar. "I've had worse before. The mediwater is terrible, though, whoever came up with that must be one miserable bastard."
  "Oh, yeah," Gene says around a mouthful of food. "Yeah, for sure." He swallows, and continues, "I'd stick with regular water - it doesn't taste like anything, but that's good enough for me. So, why the long face?"
  Saoirse pipes up snidely, "Oh, he's probably just sad they had to replace his legs with robotic ones. Who could live with that, right?" The girl pointedly picks up her ration bar with her right hand and takes a bite.
  At long last, Caleb figures out what's going on. "Okay, look. I'm sorry about what I said earlier.

  Sensing a short break in the hostilities, Frank hurriedly stumbles towards the seat beside Caleb - not daring to put himself between Saoirse and Caleb, and also not daring to sit opposite them. He trips on the way (and yelps, startled), but manages to catch himself just in time. He plops himself heavily down in his chosen chair, directly opposite Gene.
  Nobody even notices that Frank is there.

  Caleb goes on, "I should've thought more before saying it. But you can't blame me for not being used to these things!" He taps one of his legs for emphasis. "I've never had prosthetics before. I liked my legs the way they were, and these just feel... wrong. I can't describe it, but they're not my legs, and they're a constant reminder that I only lost mine because I was too damn stupid to act like a soldier out there! That's why I don't like them."
  Well... it's Saoirse's turn to be embarrassed as she realizes that, once again, she's been being an ass. She's never been good with people. Although she feels an urge to run away, she swallows her pride and apologizes. "I'm... s-sorry. It's just that... hm. I... I had these since I ws 8. And l-like, all of my life, everyone treated me like I was... s-some kind of subhuman just b-because of that. Kids at school ... mocked me. I wasn't allowed to join PE, old poeple on the street called little me an abomination. This girl I liked in middle school said I was super ugly with my rusty metal stick leg, and at job interviews thy'd just look at me and I inevitably got a polite mail saying I wasn't a good fit - " Maybe too much sharing there, Saoirse, slow down... "So, uh... I thought you were the same way. I forgot that people feel bad after they lose things, and I'm v-very sorry about that." She lets her head hang a bit to show shame, but then she looks right back up and asks, "Friends?"
  The whole sequence was very awkwardly stated (as per usual with Saoirse), but Caleb seems pretty understanding about the whole thing.

  "Hello!!!!!" a particularly curvy newcomer says, smiling brightly. It's Sukava - a new inmate just out of cryo. "Mind if I join you?" she asks - but without waiting for an answer, she plops her wide hips down on the set directly between Caleb and Saoirse - blocking their view of each other. Pulling out a ration bar, she begins eating.
  By the purest stroke of irony, Sukava has no less than four prosthetic limbs.
  
  Caleb had been intending to shake hands with Saoirse, but at this point, it's just not an option. He mouths "Friends" at her from around Sukava, and then, trying to ignore the rudeness of the woman's entrance, says, "Hello... I don't recognize you, and you don't look like crew. They just wake you up?"
  "Indeed!" she answers brightly, offering a metallic hand to him. "My name is Marina. Nice to meet you!"
  "I'm Caleb, with Beta Squad," he says, shaking her hand. He's relieved they lucked out and got someone (apparently) sane. He starts motioning to everyone. "That's Saoirse, also from Beta. Gene and Frank are from Alpha. And that's Cho, our FTO."
  "Hiiii!!!" Cho beams. "Oh, this is great! I get to meet all of you at once, and I'm learning so much about all of you! And that moment you had was adorable! We're going to be amazing together. ...OH!" she gasps suddenly. "I have an idea of a fun game we could play to learn more about each other!"
  
  But she never gets a chance to explain her game, for at that moment, five PDAs around the table chime with a message from SCAMPS: "Time for the debrief. Get to the conference room, now."
  Five chairs scrape across the floor, five inmates get to their feet.
  "Aww, we'll play later," Cho reassures them as they walk away. "See you all after the debriefing!"
  And poor Cho is left all alone at the table.

  The lights in the room flicker and finally, all but the emergency lights die out. Although nobody still there knows it, it's a product of Brom and Ishmael's politicking in the reactor chamber.
  Brenna certainly doesn't know it. Her voice echoes from the blackness of the back rooms: "Gods, not again! FRAAAAANK IT BROKE AGAIN!" but when she comes to the counter, nobody is there but Cho, who gives a sheepish wave.
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Re: REKT: The Nemesis (Battlecarrier)

#270
[IC]Frank[/IC]
SCAMPS wrote:
Sun Dec 02, 2018 9:50 am
This debriefing is finally adjourned. I'm bringing the REKT vets in here next, so get out. Try to stay out of trouble until we make it to Fuhodo Station - I'll have another task for you then. Dismissed.
REKT vets? The veterans? Wha- Anabais!

Half of those at the table might be insane at their best times...but at least they didn't have a permanently bad mood like her...
And the AI was done anyway, so just about time to get away from here. Perhaps it would be an idea to return to the mess-ha-...

A short memory of his outbreak there...probably better to let it cool down for now...
But...Something to ease the unease he suffered from since coming back...

A good time...to get some safety?

While things wrap up here, Frank heads out to the armory, trying to evade Anabais
Once there, ask for the sword he brought back from the mission. If he could keep it for his loadout...
Apparently, sometimes stuff might happen.

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