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Message: <blockquote data-quote="Shadowdancer" data-source="post: 1225997" data-attributes="member: 515">Chapter II    Date: 109-993Location: Aboard the Bray Keaven, in orbit around Sentry.  "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." Vargas drops his gear just inside the airlock but out of the way so that it isn't under foot. He pops the door on the vacc-rated carrier by his feet and holds out his palm. "Come on Rusti. It sounds like what passes for the captain around here wants to see us." The russet–furred creature scampers into Vargas’ hand and waits for the former Scout to lift it to his shoulder. "Lessee, lounge on a Far Trader should be. . . that way." He heads toward the elevator to the upper deck. ----- Vasilii motions for the Doctor to lead the way to the lounge. Upon arriving at the lounge Vasilii asks, "Dr. Talbek, would you like a beverage?" (Vasilii’s Vilani habit of referring to someone by their title and last name gets the better of him). "Why yes, I’d be much obliged. I could sure use a Terran brandy, butI’d better stick with Javactose (brand name for a popular coffee–milk drink) for now." Vasilii prepares the beverages and takes a seat, nodding to the rest of the ship’s company. Doc takes the drink reverentially, takes a long sip and sighs deeply with satisfaction. "Now that sure does hit the spot." Looking over the rim of his mug, Saro glances around the room at the rest of the crew as he waits for the Captain to start off this little shin-dig. "What a cramped lounge," Vasilii ponders as he looks around the room. "Oh my, look at the size of that creature." Valilii has heard of Virushi but has never met one in person. "Shipboard security must be his position," he thinks. ----- Darishun nods affably in response to Vasilii and decides to amble over to the food dispenser before the lounge gets too crowded for him to move. He retrieves two sandwiches and a large imitation fruit drink. Glancing around him, he then carefully backs up, making sure to keep his tail very still. Once in the clear, he sidles over to one wall and starts happily consuming his snack. "I wonder if the food stores have been expanded to take into account our larger–than–normal crew, possible inability to resupply from the surface for some time, and my own needs?" he wonders to himself. ----- Swann straightens up from stowing his cold-weather clothing into a drawer in his cabin. "A meeting already. Guess I better go see what this party is all about. Don’t want to give Argent another reason to be upset with me. That might draw too much attention, and too many unwanted questions. Guess I better try to fit in with this mission, and try to come out of it alive." Before leaving his cabin, Swann takes his body pistol and hides it along with a set of his lockpicks. "Better leave this behind. Doubt I’ll need it. Yet." He leaves his blade hanging from his belt, grabs his hand comp and heads toward the crew lounge. Ducking through the hatchway into the lounge, Swann stops short as he sees an enormous creature standing against one wall, eating a sandwich. "What the frell?!" he thinks to himself. "Is that the ship mascot? Hope he’s housebroke. Wait, he appears intelligent. It must be a Virushi. I’d heard they’re big, but that thing needs its own ship. I wonder if it’s fully mature, or is still growing? This mission just keeps getting better and better." Swann goes over to the beverage dispenser, grabs a Hava Cola and, out of habit, finds a seat that places his back to the wall and all entrances within view. As he sips his cola, he looks over the other crew members. "Interesting bunch," he thinks. "The female’s cute. Looks like she’s been through a rough patch, though. The guy over by Argent looks like another ex–military. Great, more orders and procedures. The others look friendly enough. Maybe this won’t be too bad." ----- Vargas slips into the crew lounge in what he hopes is an inconspicuous manner. Some people could be so touchy if their meetings are interrupted. The mix of beings in the room is interesting to say the least, especially the Virushi. Vargas had heard there was one in the Scouts hereabouts up until recently. The former Scout slouches against the doorframe and assumes his usual look of amused indifference. As is his way when indoors, Vargas picks the Antares Apocalypse boloball cap up off his head and turns it around so that the bill is facing backwards. He then rests one hand on the butt of his auto pistol at his waist. On his shoulder, Rusti, a brownish-red beaked monkey, settles into a more comfortable position on his battered flight jacket.</blockquote>

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