BIG DAMN HEROES - a d20 Firefly Campaign [IC]

[Watus]

When operating a starship, it is customary to ensure that at least one member of the crew is awake, alert, and on duty at all times. Traditionally, this work is accomplished by dividing a standard twenty-four hour day into six four hour watches, dividing the crew into either two or three divisions, and then assigning each division to a number of set watches. It is an ancient practice - far more so than most now realize, dating back to the Earth-that-was - to a time even before spaceflight was dreamt of. Century after century, Naval Officers and Merchant Captains have ensured the constant fitness and security of their vessels by this time-honored method.

Some ships, however, are less disciplined.


Aboard the Kwai Su Nyao Longshanks
Berth 42B, Eavesdown Docks, Persephone
May 28th, 2517 - the 6th anniversary of Unification Day
before daybreak

OOC: Listen Check.

[SBLOCK=Cash]
You are sleeping peacefully in your berth when you are startled awake by a loud crash. You sit bolt upright, your eyes useless in the pitch black of your quarters, straining to hear any further noise. A moment passes with no disturbance other than a slight rumble in your stomach and you begin to wonder if the noise wasn't part of some dream. Then comes a slight clattering and a muffled curse outside your hatch.
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Baxter and Helsinki]
You are sleeping peacefully in your respective quarters, completely oblivious to any possible goings on.
[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Bastion]
You are sleeping fitfully in your berth in the lower deck when you are awakened by a vision which passes away before fully entering into consciousness. It leaves you only with a vague feeling that something definitive has happened in the night. You fumble for your watch in the darkness and, after a quick bit of calculation to figure local time, realize the the sun is about to rise.

You have the strongest feeling that you will have news of the captain before it sets.
[/SBLOCK]
In the Adara Hotel
Eavesdown, Persephone
before daybreak
[SBLOCK=Melara]
One of the many downsides of trying to keep a low profile is that the quality of one's accomodations tends to suffer somewhat. A cheap dockside hotel in Eavesdown is just the ticket if you're looking avoid unwanted attention. In all other respects, it's godawful.

You awaken in the darkness with the sudden and horrible feeling that something rather large has just crawled across your face. Suddenly upright and completely awake, you wait in the darkness for some sound - some indication of whatever it was - some direction to hurl the heavy boot which has somehow materialized in your hand. You wait, but there is nothing other than the sounds of the street slowly waking outside your window and the racing pulse in your ears.

The half-light creeping in around the filthy curtains indicates that the sun is about to rise. You'll have a busy day ahead working the docks looking for a posting.
[/SBLOCK]
In the Hai Tian Hotel
Eavesdown, Persephone
before daybreak
[SBLOCK=Kai and Win]
It's been an interesting few days. Your last posting disolved nearly a week ago now after a friendly argument about the relative merit of two potential jobs devolved rather suddenly into a bout intra-crew gunplay. It seems that the captain had begun to suspect the chief engineer of having designs on the supercargo, with whom he himself had been seeking to become involved. None of this had anything to do with you, of course - at least not directly - but it was suddenly obvious that it was time to move on. As soon as the ship downed at Eavesdown, you gathered your belongings and determined to find something better. You understand that the engineer and the supercargo left together shortly after your own departure.

In the intervening week, you have been attempting to scare up some work, but without much luck. You've built up a sufficient bankroll that you could coast for a while if you needed to, but the idea is irksome.

Then last night you had a rather sudden change of luck. Blowing off some steam in a portside bar, you were drawn into what became a rather high stakes game of Tall. One of the people at the table was a rather drunken ships captain by the name of Terry Meade. He claimed to own one of the fastest ships on the Rim, but when his last chip disappeared, he didn't hesitate to put the ship's registration on the table in order to secure a loan. There was a moments silence in which the various players examined the paperwork and debated the unseen ships possible worth.

Two hours later and the paperwork was in your pocket. Meade hadn't handled it exactly as he should have if everything were as he'd claimed. He had a desperate air about him, but he signed the ship over without much protest, and generally didn't seem nearly as upset about it as he should have done. Probably the thing's a hulking peice of luh-suh in need of scrapping, but even still. The Kwai Su Nyao is a big ship, and probably worth quite a bit as scrap.

Of course, it's always possible that he's looking to waylay you before you're able to claim what's yours, so you hid out in a different dockside hotel last night and have generally been keeping an eye open for any trouble. You'll have to get down to the docks today to check out your winnings and visit the Registrar of Ships. The earlier the better, most likely.
[/SBLOCK]

 

[Rhun]

Win, a habitually early riser, has cleaned himself up, dressed, and eaten breakfast before Kai has even risen from his sleep. His gear has been neatly stowed away in his pack, his armor cleaned and donned, and his sidearm strapped to his waist. By all appearances, the muscular brown-haired man is ready for anything that might come his way.

As his companion rises, Win turns a scarred face to regard him with a grin. "What say, Kai? Shall we 'ead down t' the docks, an' take a look at this boat? Probably be a luh suh wreck, knowin' that wong be duhn Meade, but worth a look t' be sure."




OOC:
Luh suh = Garbage
Wong be duhn = Son of a b@tch

 

[Shayuri]

"Gah!" Mel blurts as she awakens, and instinctively scrabbles on the floor alongside the cot for the first solid object...in this case a boot. With her other hand she claws at her face, as if trying to peel of a spiderweb. Finally she sits still. Waits. Nothing.

Oh but she hated this. Shivering in the dark, wondering if that noise was a rat, or something worse...like the action on a gun. Once again, she had to go through the litany. Should she have run? Maybe it wasn't too late to go back, tell them what happened. She was a good pilot, maybe they'd let her go.

Mel knew better. She'd seen what happened to people who screwed up. Even if it wasn't their fault. Cartels couldn't afford not to make examples. They employed selfish bastards. They needed those bastards to understand how things worked, or -everyone- would be dumping cargo. No pilot was good enough to justify the risk of being seen as 'going soft.'

Same time though, the Rim was a big place, and this was not a BIG offense. She doubted they were hiring hunters. More likely waiting for her to put a foot wrong and fall into their hands. Cheaper. As long as she used her brain, and played it safe...

Light. Squeezing in through the slats on the tiny hole that passed for a window here. Thin and grey, but it meant the sun was on its way. With a groan, Mel sat up and swung her legs off the bed. Coffee, she thought. Yeah, that helped some. Egg and sausage sandwich. Even with reconstituted eggs. In the dark, operating by touch, Mel got dressed and hauled herself out of bed.

By the time Mel reached the starport, her egg sandwich (import sausage was just stupid expensive) was gone, and her coffee better than half gone. A look at the flight board gave a list of incoming ships with their berths and ETA's, which she copied onto her notepad. Port directory gave her a list of the occupied berths, which she compared to yesterday's list...damn, two ships had left. Two more possibilities, flown the coop.

Working a comb through her unruly hair, Melara headed from there one of the public terminals to start the long and tedious process of monitoring the postings. One advantage to showing up early. Not only did you catch the redeye ships coming in, but you usually got a good public terminal too. Not one where the audio was out, or the screen kept messing up.

It was a small blessing, but Mel was at that point now. Count up the small blessings, and hope that in the end they added up to a miracle.

 

[Ferrix]

Kai nods, he'd bet half a gold that Meade handed them a ship that'd hardly fly. No less one with half a crew twitching at why their captain made off with their pay for the month. "You're probably right, better than scraping in Persephone, Alliance and such bein' round. It ain't home, that's for damn sure."

 

[Watus]

Aboard the Kwai Su Nyao Longshanks
Berth 42B, Eavesdown Docks, Persephone
May 28th, 2517 - the 6th anniversary of Unification Day
before daybreak

OOC: Listen Check

[SBLOCK=Cash]Frozen with indecision, Cash sits in his darkened quarters, waiting for some indication of what it is that's moving around outside. He hears another crash and more muffled cursing.[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Baxter]Zzzzzz....[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Helsinki]You're awoken suddenly in your darkened birth by a loud crash outside your hatch. It's followed by a string of muffled curses. You check your watch and after a quick bit of math to figure local time, realize that the sun is about to rise.

It doesn't seem especially likely that it's the captain outside. Among other things, he'd never be up this early.[/SBLOCK]

Eavesdown Docks, Port Terminal
Eavesdown, Persephone
before daybreak

[SBLOCK=Kai and Win]After a bit of breakfast, it's only a short walk to the docks. The morning is cool, a gentle reprieve from the brutal heat of high summer which rules the southern hemisphere of Persephone this time of year. The normally bustling streets of Eavesdown are quiet this earlyin the day, with only a few shopkeepers and businesspeople making their way to their daily living.

You arrive at the Dockmaster's Concourse shortly after it opens - in fact, you see only one other person inside: a slightly mussed looking woman in a leather coat toward the end of the row of public terminals. Your own destination is the Port Directory, a large screen mounted next to the public entrance to the docks proper listing all the occupied berts, the ships names, available cargo and passenger capacity, and their next destination. The Longshanks is listed as being in berth 42B, apparently empty and with no listed destination. A quick check of the map shows 42B to be all the way down at the end. Not exactly a prime spot.[/SBLOCK]

[SBLOCK=Melara]Pickings look to be a bit slim today. No new arrivals in the night and two departures. Expected traffic is light today.

You have the terminal entirely to yourself for about fifteen minutes before the first arrivals of the day: a tall, rather striking looking man in a browncoat accompanied by a rather rough looking sort with a wicked scar running across his face. They stop for a moment to check the board.[/SBLOCK]

OOC: Not trying to put you together yet - though feel free to do as you like. You just happen to be in the same place at the same time with not many others around.

 

[Rhun]

Win runs a hand over his close cropped brown hair as he eyes the registry. "42B, eh? 'Twould be down a' the end. But least its a cool day. Might even make fer a might pleasant walk."

 

[Shayuri]

From the minimally comfortably bucket seat where she waited, Mel watches the newcomers with a practiced eye. People checking the boards could just be passengers looking for their berth...or they could be competition. Of course, lots of people might want work on a ship who weren't pilots, so sometimes the competition was friendly.

It hadn't happened yet, but she reckoned other times it was less so.

His eyes, watch his eyes. She marked him looking maybe midway down the board. With a quick movement she was up out of her seat and heading for the board, hoping to get a feel for what he was looking at...maybe pass close enough to cull out a bit of whatever he was talking about.

Unobtrusively, she listened close as she passed, and then stood at the board right where he'd been, trying to see where his eyes had been looking.

(Here's Melara's description: [sblock]With short dark hair that's usually a bit messy, defiant blue eyes and a wry half-grin, Mel has a definite tomboyish charm. The fact that she's actually quite pretty is easy to miss on first glance, since her wardrobe is sized a bit large for her; including the weathered real leather jacket she's rarely without, and so her slim, athletic figure is hard to make out. Even so, her face has a youthful, appealing look that bangs hanging into her eyes and a smudge of grease can only do so much to conceal.[/sblock])

 

[ByteRynn]

Cash, finally shaking the sleep from his head stumbles across his quarters to the door. He punches the lock release and slides open the hatch.

"Whose...what noise?"

He asks sleepily as his door opens.

 

[Lord_Raven88]

Waking from his disturbing sleep Bastian checks the time, seeing that it's morning time, Bastian quickly gets dressed. Looking affectionately at Rover who is comfortably curled up on his bed "Come on boy, I think we'd better be best be ready, I have a bad feeling about the Captain" Hesitating slightly Bastian straps on his gun and holster "You can never be to careful after all"

Rover follows Bastian as he heads towards the kitchen to make up some 'real' coffee from his own supply.

 

[doghead]

Aboard the Kwai Su Nyao Longshanks
Berth 42B, Eavesdown Docks, Persephone
May 28th, 2517 - the 6th anniversary of Unification Day
before daybreak
[SBLOCK=Helsinki]You're awoken suddenly in your darkened birth by a loud crash outside your hatch. It's followed by a string of muffled curses. You check your watch and after a quick bit of math to figure local time, realize that the sun is about to rise.

It doesn't seem especially likely that it's the captain outside. Among other things, he'd never be up this early.[/SBLOCK]

It takes a moment for Helsinki's brain to absorb and compute the information provided by the clockface. When it finally does, Helsinki groans, burrows deeper into her blanket and jams the pillow over her head. What with the ship rapidly falling appart, she has had barely any sleep in the last few days. She is damned if she is going to be dragged out of bed after just a couple of hours. Let the bloody ship fall appart ...