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Post by Jay Fuller on Jul 23, 2012 11:46:30 GMT -5
Jay followed the group as they made their way up to the lounge. When Joel set up his map, Jay saw the area was surrounded by mountains and several different landmarks. And snow. So much gorram snow. Jay was very happy that Joel was going to lend them some clothes. Jay just hoped they didn't look terrible, but he would have to deal. After all, if it were up to living in the cold, or looking great, he would probably choose living.
As Joel went on to describe what was going on, Jay kept his eyes on the map. They were going to go and investigate a ship in the middle of a frozen wasteland, and possibly find a way to get rid of the people in the ship. Jay wasn't sure that meant convincing them to fly away or murder them all. He wasn't very happy about the idea. Though, they were helping some people so maybe that's a good thing?
And, to top it all off, they were dealing with a group of people who have apparently not used technology before. Hopefully they wouldn't be opposed to having technologies users help them out, but if they did that could be even more of a problem. "So, these no-tech-y people. What do they think of other people who use technology helping them? They're not gonna try and burn us at the stake for being witches or anything, right?" he asked. Jay knew there were some crazy people in the Verse, but he never had really experienced them as much as others.
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Post by Joel Winstead on Jul 24, 2012 12:41:22 GMT -5
The notion of the Dolgans burning someone at the stake was something that made Joel laugh. It was a rather absurd idea, but he could understand how people that weren’t familiar with them would think that way. The groups of people that liked to live a more isolated and archaic lifestyle had varying degrees of hostility.
”Hah, no.” Joel laughed. ”I’ve been living with them for about two years, and the younger ones just seem a bit fascinated with the little technology I bring, but not really in the way you’d imagine.” Joel held up the data pad. ”They look at this more as a heatless source of light I can call on at any time, which the kids think is amazing.” Joel brought it back down. ”As long as its not a lot and in their face for an extended period of time, they don’t care.”
Joel got a smile across his face again. ”Besides, I think Dolgans would rather ration the little wood they have, rather then waste on a pyre.” Joel knew better then anyone how scarce resources were on that planet, and a crazed execution was far from what the Dolgans were prone to doing.
”But the idea I had in mind doesn’t put you close to the Dolgans at all.” Joel pointed out. ”You would go to the ‘structure’, and I would split off towards the Dolgans to tell them they can get back on the trail.” Joel finished.
He looked over at Marcus, who he knew was the leader of the group. ”Is that gonna work?” He asked, hoping that the plan would be as simple as that.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jul 24, 2012 13:12:26 GMT -5
Marcus didn't like how this was shaping out. Something was twisting in his gut about the whole thing. Maybe it was the incident with Fed rousing through his conscience for a third time. He wanted this feeling locked down before he answered Joel's question.
What did Marcus 'know' about this situation. Some structure, 150 feet in length, generally tube like in shape was the likely base for the attackers, who were likely slavers. It was possible the structure was a ship. Wait.
"A Basurero class could pull its engines in and look like a building from the top down." The crap cheap smuggler ships were designed to be 'compact' to allow for use on smaller docking pads. But really they ended up in the hands of people who wanted to cross parts of the black without putting out a large signal. Marcus had once had his eyes on that sort of craft. Easy enough to maintain and you only needed one maybe two crew besides a pilot.
The problem was space. Best case scenario, all fifteen were still alive. Even if some of them proved 'troublesome' it'd be no problem to cut off their legs and cauterize the wounds. Then they'd just be organs waiting to be sold off.
He swore under his breath. That'd actually make a lot of sense. A group like these, removed from technology, pollution, doing hard labor every day? They'd have incredibly healthy organs.
The idea sickened him, that the concept came so quickly to him was disquieting.
"Ray," The fellow veteran was the closest thing Marcus was going to get to a tactical advisor. "I'm thinking we move in close and low with the shuttle." He started scanning over the map to find a good drop zone. "Scout it out, make sure we aren't dealing with reavers or something." Marcus meant it as half a joke, but the thought chilled him more than the cold winds he'd felt outside.
Of all the things to fight on this frozen ball. He'd take another month of the war before another hour in Za-za.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Jul 24, 2012 20:50:55 GMT -5
"Ice and bad guys," was Joel's response to Ilana's question.
The corner of her mouth turned up in a smirk, thinking how funny that sounded coming from this man. She didn't say anything else for the time being, instead just waiting for the others to file in so he could explain the situation to them all. It didn't take long for the others to show up. At least the ones the man knew about. She still hadn't seen Lulah yet, but she knew the girl was lurking around somewhere, she always was.
Weird that she's been around for such a short time and already I'm thinking 'always' in reference to her, Ilana thought. I didn't even like her when I met her. Hell, I'm not sure I like her now. Lulah had a way of saying thing that got under Ilana's skin. If she'd been in the mood for introspection, it probably would have occurred to her that the way she felt about Lulah would have been equaled by the way everyone else felt about Ilana herself.
"Ok, so it started about a month ago….." Joel began. Ilana listened to what he was saying, but she didn't care all that much about the backstory, though she paid close attention to where he pointed on the map. She just wanted to know the facts so she knew more of what she needed to do. The backstory was just useless information as far as she was concerned. It was the tale of all the missing people they had on this planet, which to her was irrelevant, because she couldn't be certain she'd find those people alive, so they didn't matter anymore. More than likely, they were already dead or dying. If they found them alive, great, but it wasn't likely as far as she was concerned. Marcus interjected throughout the presentation by the man, and asked questions that seemed at least mostly relevant to her.
She fully tuned him back in when she heard something about a ship. She looked where he pointed and didn't see anything there to give her even a small idea of what it could be. She was a little worried it was reavers, but she dismissed the idea because reavers wouldn't stick around this long, slowly picking them off, they would have wiped everyone out at once, and left the bodies. At least they would have left the ones that they didn't nail to the hull of their ship. She ruminated a little, while she listened to him talk. He went on for what felt like forever. Basically, he told them he wanted to send them after the ship while he rounded up the remaining Dolgan's and got them to safety.
Of course he does, she thought, just before Marcus asked if Joel had any current images of the area they were set to go into. For once, a good idea, she thought, and then felt bad for bashing him, even though he didn't even know she'd done it.
When Joel said that it was hard to explain what being shot meant to these people because they'd forsaken technology long ago, Ilana let out a very short peal of laughter. She clamped her mouth shut on it quickly though, and she felt her face turning red from the effort to hold it in. Somehow the thought of anyone in this day and age not knowing what being shot meant struck her funny bone in just the right way. After she'd recovered, which took an admittedly short amount of time, her face burned red for a different reason, and in a sheepish voice, she said, "Sorry."
He went on to say he didn't have any pictures, but he got a satellite heat reading. She perked up at this. From the heat reading, she should be able to tell if it's a ship, and what kind if it's a ship at all. That would give them a better idea of what they were dealing with. She waited patiently while he plugged something into the paper. He tapped on it a few times, entering a code of some sort. He zoomed into the area where the possible ship was, and she saw the outline of it, which told her it was definitely a ship. The outline of the ship could have been a couple different ones, but the heat coming from the engine was singular. She knew exactly what it was. The name of it eluded her for the moment, but she knew it was a small cargo ship, and there were two people standing outside of it. Guards, more than likely, she thought. Definitely not reavers.
"So, these no-tech-y people. What do they think of other people who use technology to help them? They're not gonna try and burn us at the stake for being witches or anything, right?" Jay asked. Ilana thought that was a stupid question, but at the same time, you never knew what some people were capable of. Remembering the incident on Whitefall, she knew just about anything was possible.
Joel laughed at the idea, which lent credibility to Ilana's thought that it was a stupid question. He gave an unnecessarily drawn out explanation of why the Dolgan's wouldn't burn them at the stake, and Ilana half-tuned him out again. Then he asked if the idea would work. The idea where he sent them off to the ship, possibly to their deaths, while he moved the Dolgan's to safety.
"A Basurero class could pull it's engines in and look like a building from the top down," Marcus said, but the idea made Ilana want to laugh, and she did. "Ray," Marcus went off on another topic. "I'm thinking we move in close and low with the shuttle. Scout it out, make sure we aren't dealing with reavers or something."
"First of all, it ain't reavers. For one thing, reavers would have torn the place apart and left. They don't hang around and pick people off slowly. They're swift and violent. They don't take their time with it. For another, any ship operated by reavers wouldn't be working the way it's supposed to, and that ship is. Reavers tend to operate without core containment, because they spend too much time wiping out entire civilizations to be bothered with keeping their ship in proper working order," Ilana said. She didn't talk often, but when she did, she usually said a lot all at once.
"Second of all, that's not a Basurero class ship. The heat signature from the engine is all wrong for that. It's a Caravel class cargo ship. It's got rooms to fit 10 people comfortably, and enough power to carry between 200 and 250 tons of cargo, depending on how many and how big the people on board are. And keep in mind I said comfortably. With minimal supplies, and cram packed without a care as to whether the people are comfortable, I imagine they can carry a whole lot more than ten people. It ain't reavers, but I got a pretty horrible idea that I do know what it is, and you ain't gonna like it."
She wondered for a short minute whether to be delicate or just say it, then she decided to just get it over with. "Based on what Joel has told us, and the capacity of the ship, I think there's a real good chance it's slavers. Maybe organ harvesters, but as long as they've been parked here, I very seriously doubt that. Those things only keep for so long. No, I'd put my money on slavers."
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Post by Joel Winstead on Jul 25, 2012 12:26:44 GMT -5
Ideas about what the ‘structure’ was began to come out, and Joel liked that. He had so little knowledge of ships and hadn’t been able to requisition a full scan of the area that it was necessary for someone to at least take a guess at it. He found it humorous that these evidently mercenary types seemed to be able to figure out what type of ship and what they were doing just from seeing the heat scan, where the Alliance wasn’t even gracious enough to tell him that themselves.
The mention of Reavers came up and Joel remained silent. He’d heard them mentioned so often since he made it out to the Rim that he had come to the conclusion that they were ‘real’ in some capacity. He had landed on the idea that they were probably just what the traditional definition of Reavers was, which were thieving pirate pillagers.
More discussion of strategy came about, and Joel once again was silent. He was trying to hear what they wanted to do, but also trying to see if there was anything that he could help with. Unfortunately there was nothing he was hearing that he was able to help with. There wasn’t anything to add onto. His experience was limited to more civil discussions and helping with day to day things, not aspects of combat.
When the woman from earlier began to speak, Joel was surprised she could tell so much just from the image. She sounded very confident in what she was saying, and Joel presumed that she was the mechanic on board the vessel, or at least someone with a lot of knowledge regarding ships. Her mentioning that it couldn’t be ‘Reavers’ was good, but she did back up a thought Joel had.
”Yes, that’s what I’ve feared.” Joel replied to the notion of slavers. ”It’s the only reason I could think of to take so many prisoners.” Joel finished. In a way that gave him hope that the people who were taken were still alive, but he didn’t put all his faith on that. He thought to ask though. ”Do you think the people they took are still alive then?” Joel asked, sounding a bit unsure of the idea.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Jul 28, 2012 23:41:17 GMT -5
Ilana had been patient for most of the discussion, though she spoke up to put evidence against his Reaver worry. Marcus wondered why the worry came to him. The were on the other side of the system from 'reaver space', such as it was.
He rolled his shoulders and nodded. As she cleared up what was the probable intentions of the slavers. Though on a planet this cold, it wouldn't be hard to keep organs on ice. Sad to say. Hell they could be chilling people and putting them into cryo. But that'd be to expensive.
He cut off his line of thinking when Joel spoke up again. It was a serious question. Marcus looked Joel square in the eye. "In my experience, slavers sell intact people whenever they can. Odds favor some of them may still be alive."
He looked back over the pictures. "But time is the major factor. If you could get the cold weather gear?" He motioned for the door as he sat down in a chair and began looking over the shots in earnest, in particular anything that looked topographical. If they could approach from behind a mountain that'd seriously improve their chances.
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Post by Joel Winstead on Jul 31, 2012 11:55:14 GMT -5
It was good to hear a more professional opinion say that there was a good chance that some of the people that were taken were still alive. They had lost many already, and the thought that some of them could still be alive was very welcome news. The Dolgans didn’t have much trouble with accidents that killed people, and death tended to come more natural. But since no one ever killed anyone else, it was a very difficult time for them.
Marcus telling him that time was a factor though brought it back to his head. He was asked to go and get the gear, and Joel stood up. ”Yeah, yeah, I’ll go grab it and come right back.” He said quickly. He was a bit excited by the fact that they seemed so eager to get this work done.
It would probably take him thirty minutes to get to the store, requisition it, and transport it back there, but it would probably give them time to get ready. He wouldn’t have to spend much time telling them what to expect out there, since they weren’t walking on weak ice. It was solid ground beneath their feet, no more then a foot or two. It would make moving a bit difficult, but survival out there was very self explanatory.
”You can, hang on to those, and… work out… battle plans.” Joel said with a smile referencing the map and datapad, not sure how to describe what they were doing. It was likely that was going to be closer to dealing with the War then what he did throughout the entire time it was going on. He moved out the door and the hits of his boots on the metal ground was heard as he made his way through the ship.
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Post by Jay Fuller on Jul 31, 2012 20:42:20 GMT -5
Jay glanced down to his feet when Joel laughed at him. Joel explained that they weren't a hostile people, which gave Jay a bit of relief. He shifted in his seat and glanced at Marcus once he started talking. Jay raised an eyebrow when he brought up the Reavers. The thought didn't bother him too much -- he'd heard the worst stories and knew that he would rather die than ever encounter one. But he couldn't be terrified of something he'd never experienced.
Ilana went on to explain that it wasn't what Marcus originally thought. Jay was grateful to hear her input. It seemed they were dealing with slavers, which made Jay's stomach turn. He hated the thought of anyone treating another human being as anything less than a person. He honestly didn't understand it either. How people could treat another life so cruelly and feel nothing...it was something Jay was grateful this crew was without. He'd seen each of the crew members do or speak of bad things they've done and regretted. It showed that some people in the 'Verse had a soul.
Marcus asked Joel to go get the winter gear. Jay watched him go out. "Well," he said after a minute with a hint of sarcasm, "This should be fun."
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Post by Lulah Hayes on Aug 1, 2012 18:47:07 GMT -5
The Captain's praises were neither here nor there, when all Tallulah could think about was the fact that they'd just landed into a white misty haze of absolutely freezing cold air. She was used to mild to hot climates, with a rainy day being about as cold as it got. It didn't take long at all for the temperature to drop both inside and outside of the ship as they entered Muir's atmosphere, leaving the Beaumonde gal wishing she'd switched food for clothes with her last pay cheque.
“Ai-yah!” She cursed almost breathlessly, teeth chattering and fingers shaking as she pressed various buttons and flicked switches on the flight control panel. “Cold-cold-cold-gorram-freakin'-cold!”
It wasn't just the temperature that was giving her the shakes though; that was only half the problem. The other half, was a result of Marcus having brought everyone up to speed on the mission, having dropped off the troublesome purple belly cargo. Lulah was glad to be rid of that problem, but now came the mention of Slavers, and that was a very sore subject with the young red-head. For once she'd stayed quiet on the matter, which wasn't exactly a good thing. Then again, she hadn't really built up a good repertoire with the rest of the crew for them to really notice and/or care. Nor did she feel comfortable yet with sharing anything with them either.
After making sure everything was as it should be in the cockpit, a shivering Lulah huddled down to her cabin where her initial reaction was to just leap under her bed quilt in an attempt to get warm. Marcus had already gone to meet with the client who probably had more to add to what the crew already knew about the mission. Did they even need her at the briefing though? Or rather, the real question was, could she even be bothered to go? Maybe she could ask to stay on-board instead on account of the fact that she didn't want to freeze to death any time soon? Someone would need to watch the ship, right? But would they trust her to do that?
'Uuugh... I don't wanna go outside!' The red head groaned loudly into her pillow; even with her bed quilt covering her small form, she could still feel the cold, and it was bound to be ten times worse outside the safety of the ship. So, like the rest of the crew, she made an effort to don warmer layers of clothing. Not that she had much to layer up with, but she managed to very hastily roll another two pairs of not-so-thick socks over her feet before slipping them into her calf-high boots. Looser cargo pants went on over her fitted pair, while an old, green and black chequered, baggy shirt was pulled over a tighter, long-sleeved and tie-dyed thin top. It was the best she could do, but still only really suitable for inside the ship. If anything, the baggier clothing just made her feel snug and comfortable, especially as she wrapped her duvet back over her shoulders and back.
Navigating the 'verse had surely tired her out, but the cold was also just making her want to curl up and hibernate. Surely no one would mind if she caught a few, well earned, extra Z's? She'd worked hard after all, and her rear hurt from all that gorram sitting around for countless hours. Alas, her mind was sub-consciously made up, and so before she knew it, she was already sinking back down over the mattress and pillow, closing her eyelids, and calming her breathing.
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Post by Joel Winstead on Aug 1, 2012 21:44:42 GMT -5
13 Minutes Later
It wasn’t a long trip back to the store that was holding the cold weather wear which Joel had acquired. It was fairly cheap since they kept things like that in abundance in Tilkendan. Most people lived in town, but there were those that lived much farther out. And if anyone was going to get there, they needed the cold weather gear.
Many people in town didn’t wear clothing that thick all the time, though just about had some type of it or another. It was mainly for those that were at risk of being out in the freezing cold without shelter for prolonged periods of time. It wasn’t a problem to walk from one building to another in down, so long as your pants were thick and water resistant. But to walk anything close to a mile in the weather they had in the area was just begging for all kinds damage to your body due to the climate.
Joel approached the ship, but this time he wasn’t alone. With him was a younger man, who towered over the short figure that had been in the ship before. Joel carried the cold weather clothing stacked up in his hands, suit upon suit. He was carrying about four of them, with all the gear tied together. It was fairly light considering it was four sets of boots to jacket. Still it was a bit heavy. The tall man behind him carried the same amount. It was more then was likely needed, but Joel liked to have extras just in case.
He turned around to look at the man, Jace was his name, still trying to balance the clothing as he trudged through the snow. ”Put on a happy face, and try to be friendly.” Joel said with a smile, as they came up in front of the ship. He knew what he was going to say, and more so ask, but he wanted to try to see how things would go about it.
They approached the front of the ship, still out in the cold. The airlock door to the ship was closed to keep the cold out, but the ramp was down. Joel treaded up the ramp, hoping Jace was still with him. He looked through the airlock window and tapped. He didn’t want to just barge in, even though he’d been there a few minutes earlier, since it wasn’t the most polite thing.
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Post by Jace "Original Zest" on Aug 1, 2012 22:37:03 GMT -5
Jace growled quietly as he tredged through the snow, he had learned how to walk quietly and steadily but this gorram snow was bullshit. Slinging the equipment behind him so his shoulders took most of the weight of the light bundle of cloths made it easier to walk. Jace was very glad he left his rifle back in town, he always wondered why he bought the damn thing he rarely carried it let alone used it.
After Jace finally got steady footing, he was able to move a lot easier and quicker through the snow to follow the tiny peculiar man in front of him. Jace couldn't help but like the odd chap, he saved him from freezing out on this God Forsaken planet alliance man or not that act alone put Joel in a safe place in his book.
Hearing the little man pipe up smiling at Jace, Joel said ”Put on a happy face, and try to be friendly.” Jace observed the man with his odd smile and just nodded in acceptance as they walked onto the ships ramp. Jace couldn't help but wondered what kind of happy drops was shoved up the mans Pi-gu to make him always so cheerful especially on this planet. Nonetheless Jace appreciated the man for his help and rather liked the feller.
Breathing a sigh of relief he was glad to feel metal beneath his feet, it had been a while since he was standing on a proper ship, though it was nothing like the ones he flew in the war. He stood beside Joel with a forced smile waiting to ask the Cap'n for permission to step foot on the man's craft.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Aug 2, 2012 17:16:53 GMT -5
After Joel left, Ilana went back to her room and stripped out of the awful layering that had made her so damn hot. She was sweating like mad, and already her undershirt was soaked. She pulled the sweater back on, her khakis, and one pair of socks this time. She slung the duster over her arm, but wasn't sure whether or not she would need it. She shrugged and took it with her anyway.
After changing, she made her way back to the cargo bay to wait for Joel to return. Things had already been pretty well decided, though she wasn't entirely sure if the plan would work. Regardless, they were throwing themselves headfirst into the lion's den once again. She'd been in more danger, more frequently, in the short time since she'd joined Marcus, than in all the years she'd spent with Roman.
As stupid as Roman was when it came to avoiding danger, that said a lot about Marcus's ability to put them in precarious places. She sighed as she sat down on a large crate in the cargo bay. It was positioned near the panel that opened the airlock, so it was convenient. She pulled her databook out of her pack and turned it on. She flicked her fingers across the screen a few times until she found what she wanted. It was an old horror novel called The Taking. It was set in a time that came before interstellar travel for the average Joe, but for the most part, people could relate to it.
The only funny thing about it was that it was full of aliens, which made it a sort of dark comedy for her. People from Earth that was were terrified of aliens. She couldn't fathom why since they hadn't found a single one anywhere in the verse they'd been. Then again, people from Earth that was didn't have the ability to travel the verse the way they did now, so of course they wondered if there was life in other places. If they'd never been somewhere, it would have been a might arrogant to assume they were the only life in the verse.
She sank into the book, and the more she read, the further into it she delved. She became less and less aware of her surroundings, as she often did when reading. That was the reason she only read when she was in a completely locked up place with people she trusted enough not to shoot her while her guard was down. She hadn't read at all for the first week Lulah was with them, since she hadn't known the girl. Truthfully, she still didn't, and she didn't know her well enough to say she liked her yet either, but she was fairly sure the girl wasn't going to kill her.
She got deep enough into the book that she barely heard the tapping that came from the glass in the airlock door. She looked up, but she didn't see anyone, so she got up, groaning a bit when her knees popped, and walked over to the door. She peered through the window and saw the man Joel standing there waiting. She noticed someone else with him, and she frowned. He hadn't mentioned bringing anyone with him, and I don't think he would have forgotten to mention that he was bringing a mammoth of a man like that. He was huge. Instantly, she was suspicious, as was her nature to be. She walked over to the panel though, and pressed the button to open the door. As it opened, she put her hand on the butt of her gun, and waited to see what would happen.
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Post by Joel Winstead on Aug 2, 2012 22:39:44 GMT -5
Shifting his weight from one foot to the other, Joel waited for the door to open. The ramp to the ship was very large as was the ship, which was a strange thing for many people there. It was obviously far from its natural element and what it expected to come around. That wasn’t to say it looked out of place, since vessels like that were obviously designed to withstand temperatures and conditions that were far worse then what it was experiencing there. Still it was a different environment from space and most places where a ship like that would land.
He tapped the ramp with his foot, just seeing what sort of sound it would make with the small layer of snow that was building on top of it. Joel hadn’t hit it hard enough to make any real sound other then a dull tap, that he probably could only hear because he expected a noise.
Joel looked up when he heard a sound at the door in front of him. He looked through the window and could see the woman in front of him that had been there earlier. The door clanked a bit more as the airlock was released, and the door opened up automatically. Joel leaned forward and moved his way in to the ship.
”Special delivery.” Joel said with his smile as he padded his way into the ship. He looked behind him and tilted his head to the side, beckoning Jace to come in behind him. He set the stack of clothing on the ground, and looked over at the woman.
”Could you find Mr. O’Terra for me ma’am? I have something I would like to speak with him about.” Joel asked looking forward to her, moving one of the sets of cold gear with his foot.
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Post by Ilana Logan on Aug 2, 2012 23:45:12 GMT -5
Ilana watched the two men come in through the airlock door, and she watched the second, newer man carefully. She hadn't expected the second man and didn't really know what to think of him. His presence was slightly unnerving, and she didn't know what to say. He was supposed to come back with cold weather gear for them. There wasn't supposed to be a person inside the gear.
”Special delivery,” Joel said with his smile, making a joke that Ilana didn't get. He looked over his shoulder, and jerked his head as though to indicate the other man should follow along. He put the clothing on the ground, and looked to Ilana. ”Could you find Mr. O’Terra for me ma’am? I have something I would like to speak with him about?" He asked, nudging the clothes with his foot.
She raised her brow at that, but she knew exactly what it was about. She had a suspicion that they were about to get a new crew member. At the very least a temporary one. Most likely, they were adding yet another person to their crew. She sighed heavily and walked to the comm on the wall. She pressed the button on the panel to call the lounge and said, "Marcus, I need you in the cargo bay like ten minutes ago."
She released the button and walked back to where she was standing but the airlock control panel. She leaned against the crate she'd been sitting, and put her hands on her hips, just in case. She still didn't know for sure what he was doing there, and she knew she didn't trust him based on the word of someone else she didn't know at all. She'd find out soon enough she supposed.
She looked the second man over, and really took in his size. He was way bigger than she was. Probably at least a foot taller. That made her a little uncomfortable. Being around people bigger than her wasn't anything out of the ordinary, but this guy was enormous. At just 5'3" nearly everyone was taller than her, but this was ridiculous.
She sighed again, pulling herself out of her thoughts, and waited for Marcus to show up.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Aug 3, 2012 0:02:35 GMT -5
Marcus had been pouring over the plans but it was giving him a headache more than anything else. Best he could tell, if they flew in low from the direction opposite of the down, they'd come up behind the structure. That's the best he could manage at this point. He'd let Ray look at what he would. He decided to take a walk.
Walking out into the cargo bay, he stepped softly. The deck barely made a sound as he moved. Ilana was sitting on a box, reading, and he started to let his mind drift back to what he'd assembled a crew for. It seemed only a reaction to the events that he'd been thrown into.
If he'd never stepped onto the Logan, he'd never have been flung into all the situations he'd suffered through since then. Fancy thinkers would argue he'd probably have gone through just as much trouble if he hadn't.
He could have taken Montros's goons, if he'd had been rested. Being chased for days had caused him to make the bad call that started all his troubles.
He would have continued his thoughts, but Marcus saw Ilana approach the doorway to the cargo ramp, and let it open. He saw Joel and another man, who was quite tall. He had a young face though. It wasn't so strange. Words were exchanged and Ilana put her hand to the speaker to call him down. He could hear her voice echo from the lounge.
"Been here Ilana." Marcus gave a wave, before descending the steps. "Come on in Joel, whose your friend?" He rolled his shoulders and stretched out his fingers, they didn't crack but it felt good to test his ligaments.
Marcus wasn't tall by any extent, he was level with Ilana in height, but once he was standing near the new man, it was easy to feel small. He had a smile on though, thankful for something new to stress over instead of the hostages and slavers he would have to save and destroy respectively.
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Post by Jace "Original Zest" on Aug 3, 2012 0:27:19 GMT -5
Jace waited for what seemed like hours for anyone to respond to the loud tapping Joel had been doing to the glass of the airlock door. He felt the wind slowly picking up which hardly effected him through the strange fabric he wore, he had to keep in mind to ask Joel what the hell this stuff was made of.
He finally noticed a woman pop up behind the window and disappear just as quick as she had came. Hearing the sound of the door finally opening, he heard Joel make another wise crack of special delivery, Jace finally drowning him out didn't take much notice as he scanned the woman. She seemed tense and had her hand on her weapon which greatly amused him. Seeing Joel nod his head for Jace to come in as Joel drop the clothing, Jace walked forward and placed the cloths where Joel laid his at, as the tiny woman went and leaned against a crate.
Joel spoke out saying ”Could you find Mr. O’Terra for me ma’am? I have something I would like to speak with him about.” Jace kept a close eye on the tiny figure as she went and pressed a comm on the wall requesting the man he assumed was O'Terra;however, movement on the upper deck of the cargo bay took his attention as he noticed a small man, hard to see clearly with some lights glaring his vision.
The man replied, "Been here Ilana." So that is the tiny figure it seems, shrugging off the cloths Joel had given him he breathed heavily as sweat stung at his eyes before he heard the man's next question, "Come on in Joel, whose your friend?"
Leaning down he couldn't help but make sure everything was still attached from his holsters to his knives near his boots, a bad habit when meeting company but certainly something he had to check on, leaving it outside or dropping any of it would mean the planet would take it as a part of her. Standing back up quickly before his manner was taken as a threat he looked at Joel waiting for the introduction.
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Post by Joel Winstead on Aug 3, 2012 0:49:48 GMT -5
Joel stretched his back after he dropped the items on to the floor. He put his hands to his waist and leaned back to straighten himself back out. The four sets of clothing weren’t extremely heavy, but Joel was more used to carrying things on his back, then he was at the front. He didn’t have anything to tie those to his back, and it didn’t make a whole lot of sense given the short distance he had to walk.
He took his gloves off again like he did earlier, but this time he kept his coat on. Like before he stretched his fingers out and then brought them back in quickly again, pumping them to get the cold off of them. The gloves had a little string with a clip on them, and he snapped them on to his coat, as the women moved to the intercom.
Joel looked down thinking he saw an abnormality with one of the large coats, but it was just his eyes playing a trick on him. He heard the women speak, but it was returned with the sound of footsteps on metal close by and the man he was looking for approaching them from the stairs.
”Oh.” Joel remarked noticing that Marcus was actually in the cargo bay with them already. He asked who Joel had brought, and Joel turned to look at him, but tilted slightly to keep between Jace and Marcus.
”He’s actually who I want to speak with you about, Mr. O’Terra” Joel turned more towards Marcus. ”This is Jace Cisco.” Joel said holding his hand out towards him. ”Jace, this is Mr. O’Terra, the Captain.” He said pointing towards Marcus.
Joel looked back to Marcus. ”It slipped my mind earlier since I got caught up in… well everything.” Joel remarked on his own faltering. He’d been so caught up in the idea of actually getting help for the problem, that he’d completely forgotten about Joel. ”But umm, I was wondering Captain if you could help him out.” Joel said, wondering if Marcus would even be open to that.
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Post by Marcus O'Terra on Aug 3, 2012 1:04:45 GMT -5
Marcus watched the man as he waited for Joel's response, he was more than tall. There was something weathered about him. He wondered if the man was a local looking to help out, but something told him otherwise.
Joel spoke up, and Marcus knew the man's name. "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Cisco." Marcus nodded and held out a hand for Jace to shake.
Joel continued and Marcus's eyebrows rose. This was something odd. He had expected the man to be the help, not to be the one needing help. Still he looked up into the man's eyes; Marcus was trying to pick up that knack people were supposed to have for reading people.
He didn't really know what it was about. Probably like playing cards. Blinking, pupils, and if the person's gaze darted to certain spots.
Marcus looked at the man straight on, but the lights of the cargo bay made his right eye squint ever so slightly. It gave a suspicious look to his face. Honestly, Marcus doubted Joel would try to screw them over, and even if the slavers would put a man in the village as a scout, they wouldn't just throw him at the first ship that landed.
After Joel got out his explanation, Marcus simply nodded. "So what's your problem Mr. Cisco?" The emphasis on the word made it clear that Marcus wasn't overjoyed at the thought of another mouth to feed, someone else to fit into the crew.
However if the man could handle himself, he certainly seemed equipped for rough times, he'd be useful in the coming combat.
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Post by Jace "Original Zest" on Aug 3, 2012 1:30:08 GMT -5
Jace listened to the brief introductions as he watched the man descend the stairs and come to stand infront of him. Marcus spoke to him, "Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mr Cisco." Marcus offering his hand to shake Jace quickly gave him a nod of acknowledgement, and took his hand firmly and shook it. Jace politely replied, "Pleasure to meet you Captain O'Terra, as Joel said I am Jace Cisco, and yes I am in a bind currently and I am in need of passage really." Releasing Marcus's hand he stepped back and picked his coat back up.
Looking back at the Captain he decided to give him a little more information to help the possibility of passage. "Currently I am stranded here on this planet and I am needing a way off the planet, I can't really pay for passage but Joel informed me of his issue and I have no issue with working if that will help." Jace wished the Captain would take him at his word, but was willing to offer more of an explanation as long as it got him passage.
Waiting for the Captain's reply Jace scanned the cargo hold and begin taking in the lay out of the ship, it was certainly time he returned to a proper ship and this was defiantly a ship he wouldn't mind traveling on for a quick passage.
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Post by Jay Fuller on Aug 3, 2012 1:40:08 GMT -5
Jay soon made his way into his room after Joel left. He didn't really know what to do. He flipped through a notebook and made a bit of chicken scratch in it with a nearby pen. He stared down at his journal that was sitting a few inches away. He sat down and opened to the first entry -- it was from when he left Paquin a few short months before. He hadn't spoken to his parents since. Strangely enough, he felt no desire to. He wondered if a lot of people felt like that -- like their family was just an anchor to raise them and once they were gone, they were gone.
Do other families live like this? he thought. Did he even love them? After all, he didn't seem too upset at their lack of presence in his new life. He wondered if they loved him back. After all, they hadn't contacted him either. Maybe once they found out about his "curse" as they called it, they were done with him. Disowned. Off the map. Jay wondered if this crew really was all he had. He definitely cared about them to some degree. But then, maybe that was love by proximity. They were quite literally the only thing he had in the 'Verse right now -- that and a few notebooks.
That was when he realized that he probably should be getting back to the others. He climbed up to the hall and made his way to the catwalks across the cargo bay. Joel had returned with someone new. He wanted to stay up here. He wasn't really in the mood now to join in conversation. The man Joel had brought was tall. The medic leaned onto the catwalk's railing and stared down.
"He's actually who I want to speak with you about, Mr. O'Terra," Joel continued. Jay figured he must have come in mid-conversation. "This is Jace Cisco. Jace, this is Mr. O'Terra, the Captain...It slipped my mind earlier since I got caught up in...well, everything. But umm, I was wondering Captain if you could help him out."
"Oh mā," Jay muttered under his breath. He looked at Jace. He was tall, much taller than Marcus or Ilana. And since Jay was only an inch or so taller than them, well. Jace was a big guy. There was something in Jay's gut that said this ship was probably going to get a bit more crowded. Not that adding another crew member would be terrible, but Jay wasn't even used to Lulah yet, let alone a newbie. He didn't want to retract back into his shell after getting almost out of it.
When Marcus asked what his trouble was, Jace responded. "..and I am in need of passage really." Great, Jay thought. At least it was only passage, not permanent. Jay wondered if maybe he shouldn't be quite that judgmental, but after remembering his family he was put in a sour mood. Jay pushed up from the catwalk railing and turned, walking back to the stairs. He made his way to the floor of the cargo bay. He didn't say anything, but instead he went to stand next to Marcus. He crossed his arms and leaned onto one leg.
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