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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shayuri" data-source="post: 5317591" data-attributes="member: 4936">As the sound of the drives cycled down below the range of hearing, and the instrument displays locked into their green configurations, Zoe was free to take a moment to relax. The pilot chair was original equipment, despite the age of the ship. She'd insisted on it, reupholstering and patching it as needed to keep the stuffing inside. Every pilot had their superstition...their mental totem for what kept them alive long past the point probability would have spilled them into the vacuum. That was hers. Low tech missiles. They'd been one decent munitions payment away from being an expanding cloud of dust.With one hand Zoe caressed the chair's worn side in gratitude, then twisted it sideways and tapped her headset to open the communications channel."If you want to spring for a missile launcher, Spider, I'd be delighted. Or while you're at it, we could spring for a whole new turret on the dorsal hardpoint. You let me know when you've got the creds saved up."The touch of her fingers on holographic virtual instruments caused the panels to go still and black. The cockpit annex of the bridge transformed from a riot of color and images into a dark little pit.Still feeling a bit shaky, Zoe climbed out of the shallow indentation it all sat in, far forward on the bridge floor, and headed to the galley for a quick drink before going out to watch everyone else work.(OOC - Translation is that she'll be the last one off the ship. I'll post what she brings with her as soon as I finalize her inventory. <img src="https://cdn.jsdelivr.net/joypixels/assets/8.0/png/unicode/64/1f642.png" class="smilie smilie--emoji" loading="lazy" width="64" height="64" alt=":)" title="Smile    :)"  data-smilie="1"data-shortname=":)" />)</blockquote>

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