| abstract
| - Airlock Crimson worklights wash the gray bulkheads and grid textured wall panels tints and jagged patterns of red. Stern pragmatics govern the airlock space, from its sturdy steel equipment racks to recessed lockers which take advantage of every square inch of the cramped space. Five EVA suits are racked against the wall, two portside, two starboard. A circular hatch set the ceiling provides access to the docking collar, while heavy pressure doors in the floor allow the lowering of the ship's boarding ramp. A second reinforced hatch leads into the ship. Zrt'kfr crouches in the airlock of the Journey. He turns toward the arriving Athena crew. Mandibles clack and compound eyes gleam in the crimson light of the pulsating worklights. Jordan scowls at the Odarite as she passes into the rescuing ship, but it probably isn't visible through her helmet. Kastaprulyi follows Jordan through the docking connection, drifting slowly through the center of the corridor. But the little Centauran comes to a stop and slides off to the side of the corridor as it comes within a couple yards of the Odarite. Zrt'kfr bobs his rounded head at Kastaprulyi, then turns toward Jordan. "Akm plkeased akm Okdarite. Nko nkeed bkulky skuit." Tryklynn tranfers over from the UKT Athena. "Yeah, that makes one of us," Jordan retorts, watching her crewmates make it over to the new ship. Zetral slides through the hatch, gazing quickly about. No sooner have they crossed the hatch then Marlan is reaching up to release her helmet. She holds it at her side, expression grim. "Soon as we land i want the rockrat adn Zetral to make sure they bring her in safely and make arrangments for drydock...we'll be landlocked a while." she turns to Kas, "Congratultions, da. You've just gottena new job. I want you to make sure every crewman has a bunk assigned in the offices. I know many never bothered with a room in the bunkroom, but they'll need one now." she then turns to Jordan, "You can hlep him. In the meantime..." she turns to Zrt'kfr, "I assume you won't be going far....i have MORE then a few questions i'd like to ask you." Zrt'kfr turns his gaze toward Marlan, antennae flicking upward. "Qkuestions?" Jordan removes her helmet almost as an afterthought, and then nods to Marlan. "Yeah, I'll help it get everyone settled," she replies. UMS Journey Intercom Broadcast -------------------------------- Akimov -- >>>> From the Bridge : Welcome home ... The Athena will be towed to the new Murmansk Drydocks ... we have settled down in the Resilience Port. Kastaprulyi shifts awkwardly through the cramped space into a corner opposite the Odarite before it begins to remove its suit. "I can help people get a bunk," Kas agrees. Jordan follows the Centauran, helping it get free of the suit. Marlan squares off in front of Zrt, "Not here. You'll get a bunk in our offices. There *will* be a guard of course. Tommorow we'll talk." Zetral offers a small nod, "Alright. We gonna get access to the New Murmansk docks, I hope?" Zrt'kfr clacks his claws as he crouches in front of the captain, fluttering the wings that jut from his chitinous back. "Ykou skaid wke wkould pkut thkis behkind uks," the Odarite replies to Marlan. "Nko skense mky sktaying." Kastaprulyi suggests an acknowledgment to Jordan, lifting off the top portion of the suit with a few arms once it's unlocked. The little Centauran's emanations begin to return to an unworried interest as it tugs off each sleeve. Jordan finishes helping Kas with its suit, and then turns to regard Marlan and Zrt'kfr with interest, leaning against a bulkhead. Marlan's tone softens but ever so slightly, "I have questions that i want answers to....the rest of it..." she pauses a moment, "Well...its a trade, da. My answers for it being forgotten."? Jordan raises an eyebrow at Marlan's response, apparently an unexpected one, but remains in silent observation. "Akceptable," the Odarite agrees. He then turns and makes his way down the ramp to the landing pad. Ungstir Landing Pad Rough hewn walls of iron and basalt, grooved by machinery used to carve this spaceport facility out of the glinting black and gray rock, rise on all sides and arches above of the broad pad that provides ample room for starships to rest during their stay on Ungstir. Bright sulfurous lights seem to cast the chamber in permanent daylight despite the gloomy darkness and stars that loom beyond the huge portals, protected by the hazy shimmer of the prot's atmospheric containment fields. Through the force screens, silhouetted by the glow of the distant star Perseverance, one can make out the rolling, drifting shapes of rocks and planetoids - remnants of the world to which this chunk once belonged. Squat, dark-haired technicians with pale skin and gruff demeanors move from ship to ship, checking fuel levels and mechanical fitness of the vessels. An archway leads out of the landing facility and into the city of Resilience, via the customs station. Several large bays are set aside for ship maintenance and repair, serving as a general purpose drydock facility. Marlan steps out of the Journey, the helmet of her worksuit held in her left hand and wearing a stern expression. As she steps from the Wolfsbane, Innokentevna looks to the militia ship. She focuses her attention first upon the Odarite. "You are nyi my syestra!" Zrt'kfr hops from the ramp and lands in a chitinous crouch at the base of the ramp. He eyes the Ungstiri woman near the Wolfsbane. "Sysktera?" He tilts his rounded head, clacking mandibles and fixing his compound eyes on the stranger. Katriel looks curiously at the ship, and the Odarite, a puzzled expression on her face at Katya's comment as well. Innokentevna glances to katriel and then to the other ship. "Systra .. sister ... sibling ..." Sh then lets out a long long breath. "marly ... you een one piece?" Marlan nods in reply to Katya, stepping up alongside the Odarite, "You can follow the rest of the crew...they'll show you the way to the barracks, da." "Allk mky skiblings wkere yielkded fkrom lkarvae," Zrt'kfr replies to Katya. "Allk wkere mkales." He offers this as a vague sort of helpless explanation in response to her apparent disappointment. Then, he turns, bobs his rounded head at Marlan, and starts following Jordan as the crew heads away from the ship. Tryklynn nods and then continues through towards the custom station. Jordan emerges from the ship carrying a worksuit in one arm, still wearing most of hers, but carrying the helmet. She trudges towards the customs station. When she notices Zrt'kfr following her she shakes her head once, and mutters to herself. Something about bugs. City Commons Carved from the ancient rock of this planetary chunk, this chamber is about sixty yards in diameter with a domed ceiling that is one hundred feet tall at its highest point. In contrast to the spaceport facility, which glows as if illuminated by a supernova thanks to high-powered lamps, this commons is more subtly lit. Shadows fill much of the higher reaches of the dome, while soft bluish-white lights provide a twilight glow to the rest of the chamber. Archways lead to the spaceport via the customs station, a tavern, and the planetoid's commercial and residential districts. "I take it the Odarites never completed those repairs that were agreed upon," Noz says drily, between heavy breaths as he lugs his worksuited form through Resilience. Zrt'kfr stalks after the science officer, the X-shaped segments of his dealbreaker blades clasped against his back, affixed between his translucent wings. His four arms angle outward, claws clicking softly as he follows Jordan. He strides a little longer to catch up to her. "Ykou rekmind mke okf Ikikirk's Qkueen." As the Odarite approaches, Kas slides quickly around Jordan to float a couple yards ahead of her, though continues to observe the conversation curiously. Jordan shakes her head at Noz, and then frowns at the Odarite as it catches up to her. "What?" is her intelligent question in response. Her tone one of mere startlement, and not offense, eyebrows shooting upwards, as she looks at him. "Mkostly, ikt wkas wkhen ykou wkore thke bkubble-hkead skuit," the Odarite elaborates, continuing to try and match the science officer's pace. "Oknly tkwo arkms, ykes, aknd nko diskernable eggksacks, bkut skomething akbout ykour bkearing skaid tko mke: Rekgal Okdarite." "Do you know which something?" Kas queries. Mazzonnoz chuckles. "I never knew Odarites fancied human women." He walks alongside Jordan, on the side opposite her. Jordan doesn't seem to know what to say in response to this, mouth opening and shutting several times, as she considers and discards several possible replies. "Umm, yeah. Well. That's good then, I guess," she finally comes out with, and then swings around to glare at Noz. "You shut up," she tells him. Zrt'kfr clacks his claws, swinging his compound eyes toward Mazzonnozz and tilting his head, antennae flexing. "Fkancied? Nko. Draikning thke hkusk okf hukman wokman wkould bke iknappropriate. Unkless abksolutely neksessary." Mazzonnoz merely gives Jordan a toothy grin in response. "Quite right," he agrees absently with Zrt, nodding his head reasonably. "Quite right>" The young Centauran drifts out ahead of the Timonae, Human, and Odarite toward the commercial district, floating a few feet off the ground and trailing a bit of condensation vapor. Jordan blinks once, pinches the bridge of her nose, and then heads into the commercial district muttering mostly unintelligible words the entire way. The few that can be made out are: men, the same, even bugs. Kiatchoi is patroling the area here, with a quite bland expression on his face. Commercial District Bright, garish neon lights compete with each other, trying to draw attention to the store they represent. The gaudy hues of orange, blue, and red glare off the smooth surface of mottled black and gray rock that the chamber is carved out of. Some of the vendors have set up stands, selling a myriad of products, ranging from foodstuffs to slugthrowers. The more fortunate merchants have settled adjacent chambers, hewn ages ago when this area was being mined for its valuable ore. Many pale Ungstiri mill around here, haggling over prices and appraising wares. Occasionally angry shouts break out when a pickpocket or shoplifter attempts a daring escape with stolen goods. A large archway leads to the commons. Numerous tunnels branch out in various directions. "I have more of that scotch tucked away," Noz tells Jordan, with a grin. "You look like you could use it." Zrt'kfr clacks his mandibles. "Skoktch?" He glances toward Jordan. "Whkat iks Skoktch? Whkat iks uksed fkor?" "Talking's better for changing feelings, thoughts in a good way," Kas observes helpfully. Then the little Centauran adds, "Can you turn off the psi-blocker now?" Zrt'kfr doesn't even glance at the Centauran: "Nko." He remains focused on the human woman. Jordan lifts one eyebrow at Noz, and then nods. "All is forgiven," she tells him, voice ironic, lips quirking up in a grin. "And scotch is the best answer to today that we have," she replies ambiguously to Zrt'kfr. She nearly reaches the door when she looks down at her watch, and begins cursing, yanking open the door, and plunging inside without further explanation. Athena Offices The small office suite is severe and spartan. The rock is carved in rough swaths, pilasters and natural stone columns adding the only touch of articulation. The lighting is soft, a contrary highlight, reflecting off the slightly curved ceiling coffers from column mounted light fixtures. The steel floor plates have a utilitarian diamonds pattern, and are set in a structural grid, allowing access to the ductwork and wiring chases below. Weaving throughout the office is a collection of systems furniture, forming individual task stations and small group work areas. In the back is nooked a small but efficient kitchenette, adjacent to a open conferencing area. Mazzonnoz grins back at Zrt. "A very, /very/ fine alcohol," he explains, then, "it's best not to bother her when she gets like this," in a quieter voice. Zrt'kfr tilts his head, gazing at Mazzonnoz with blankly gleaming compound eyes. His mandibles click. "Bkut hker akttitude iks rekminiscent okf okur Qkueen akt thke hkeight okf mkating opktimization. Sktern. Irrkitable. Pektulant. Sko akttractive." Jordan is methodically stripping off the worksuit, movements quick and efficient. When she's finally free of it, one hand reaches into her pocket, pulls something out, and pops it in her mouth. She swallows and grimaces. "God, I hate that," she says to herself irritatedly. Kastaprulyi slips around the columns to the desk of a likely Athena official and offers him a greeting. "Hello... a lot of the people who were on the Athena need to live here until it's fixed." Mazzonnoz winks at Zrt. "Hands - mandibles - off," he drawls, starting to undo his worksuit. "I doubt she's interested. Jordan, could you -?" He offers her his right sleeve, having removed the left, which was hollow. Zrt'kfr shrugs chitinously with all four arms, and then bounds toward the bunks. He looks at the lower bunk. Presses at the soft mattress with a clawed hand. His mandibles click together. He reaches up, pokes at the mattress of the upper bunk. Again, his mandibles click. Ultimately, he glances upward. Spies a ledge formed by a lamp intersecting with a column. He crouches, then springs into the air and pounces upon the resting spot. Once there, he hunkers down and surveys the chamber with his glittering compound eyes. Jordan looks over to Noz as her name is called, snapping back to her surroundings. She nods, and goes about the process of helping him remove those parts of a suit that are difficult to manage with only one arm, movements casually familiar with the routine. She finishes just in time to see Zrt'kfr make his leap onto the ledge, and stares at him. "Jesus Christ," she mutters. "Where's that scotch?" she asks Noz, a note of desperation sounding in her voice.
|
![[RDF Data]](/fct/images/sw-rdf-blue.png)