Reply to thread

Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shadowdancer" data-source="post: 1213802" data-attributes="member: 515">Swann strides down the passageway, looking for his assigned cabin, still angry with the Captain, what was his name? Argent. "Damn military and their frellin’ rules and regulations," Swann says to himself. "Everyone always giving orders and acting important. If he’s so important, why’s he in charge of a crappy little ship like this? "He acts as if he doesn’t even trust me. It’s not like I was planning on shooting him or anyone else aboard. Unless they try to hijack the ship. You can never be too careful. You need to be prepared for any possibility. If you’re not prepared, you’re dead. Oh well," he says, smiling as he pats the body pistol inside the special, hidden holster sewn into the inner lining of his jacket. "I still have options. And if I have to, I can get through that lock. If it comes down when we get to Alief, I'll bet Captain Argent would be the first one coming to me, wanting a little extra firepower. Well, he’s not getting any of my weapons. He'll just have to make do with his precious prized peashooter." Locating the cabin, Swann opens the door, goes inside and starts to stow away his gear. His thoughts turn to the upcoming mission. "What have I gotten myself into this time? Some virus is killing people, and I'm jumping right into the middle of it. I ought to be jumping the other way, looking for a nice sterile bunker to hole up inside. And I wanted to leave my exciting ‘line of work’ behind, do something nice and safe. Now I’m on a humanitarian mission that could get me killed. Wouldn’t that be ironic? After all of the scrapes I've been in, all the tight spots, all the near misses. Then my conscience starts to bother me, I try to become a good citizen, and I end up dead. I need my frellin’ head examined." -----Ian finishes his last set of isometrics and stands up, wiping the sweat from his torso. It’d always been tough to keep in shape shipboard, but he suspects it is going to be harder than usual this trip: first, the Bray Keaven doesn't look to have much in the way of training spaces and second, it wasn’t likely that anyone on the crew would be willing to train Marine–style. "Well, I’d better get used to it, I'm back on civvie street for goodnow." After a quick ’fresher, he dresses and heads for the bridge: "Better check in with the Captain and see what’s up."As he exits the cabin, someone stalks by, muttering quietly "I still have options. And if I have to, I can get through that lock. If it comes down . . . " the voice trails off as the man moves away down the corridor.Ian looks on in surprise -- the man, his ‘crewmate,’ obviously hadn’tseen him. "What was that all about?’ he wonders. "I’ll have to keep my eye on that one." Turning in the opposite direction, he makes his way to the bridge, knocks and enters."Captain Ian McConnell, Imperial Marines, reporting for duty, Sir!" A lifetime's habit starts a salute, but he catches himself in time -- civvie street, he reminds himself.-----"Do you mind if I eat, I’m starving," said Martha."Go ahead, it’s time I had something as well. Afterwards I’ll introduce you round to the crew. While we eat, tell me more about the trip," replies Argent.Argent retrieves a meal pack after Martha retrieves hers. "I understand you were on one of the last ship’s out of Alief. Let’s get the rest of the group in here so you can tell us what was up from your point of view."Argent walks toward the intercom. At this point, McConnell strollsin. The Captain looks at Ian and sees a tall human with sandy–colored hair, gray, almost colorless eyes, and a fair complexion. The face was unremarkable, but one thing does catch his notice -- the man is missing his left ear! Argent wonders what the story behind that is."At ease, Mr. McConnell. I haven’t been a swabbie in a while, although the discipline is appreciated after some discussion I’ve had in the recent past. Just a moment."Argent moves to the nearest intercom. "Attention all crew members, this is Marcus Argent. Report to the wardro. . . . er, crew lounge if you are not otherwise more involved in other tasks so we can start to get our bearings here. I'm sure some of you could also use a break at this point. Argent out."He turns to McConnell. "Grab something to eat or drink, Mr. McConnell and settle in while we await everyone else’s arrival."While he starts to grab a few bites of his meal, Argent checks the computer terminal in the lounge for an estimated time for launch, any further information on the mission, and a quick look at the crew roster.-----"Captain Ian McConnell, Imperial Marines, reporting for duty, Sir!" echoes down the corridor as Darishun ambles towards the crew lounge. He chuckles to himself and shakes his massive head with a smile. "These humans, always so enamored of pecking orders and position," he thinks. "Too much like a shivok with their petty concerns, squawking at each other in the forests of home."Then, another typically human pronouncement reverberates from the ship intercoms: "Attention all crew members, this is Marcus Argent. Report to the wardro. . . . er, crew lounge if you are not otherwise more involved in other tasks so we can start to get our bearings here. I'm sure some of you could also use a break at this point. Argent out.""Yes, definitely shivok." Darishun is briefly tempted to turn around and head in the other direction on general principle except that he is in the middle of a typically narrow human corridor with no room to turn around, and he is headed toward the lounge to get something to eat anyway.As Darishun enters the room, a couple of the current occupants either take an involuntary step back or at least have a brief look of panic around the eyes as is typical upon early encounters with a Virushi. Darishun shakes his head sadly for a moment, and then does his best "Really, I’m a friendly Virushi" smile which, after long years of practice, ends up being only slightly alarming in the massive head.Darishun’s soft voice wisps out, only sotto voce in this thin (to a Virushi) atmosphere, "Greetings, gentlebeings. May I join you?"Note: Virushi voiceboxes are designed for a dense atmosphere. In normal atmospheres, their voices end up being rather soft, generally ranging from what sounds like a whisper to sotto voce (or normal voice, if they are yelling). Oddly, the softer voice ends up locking the attention, particularly coming from such a large creature. </blockquote>

Verification