Community > The Cantina
Uncharted Skies
Carn:
Medbay
"Ulric, I actually could use your help with this. I took this from Mr Carn while he was unconscious. I'm sure your aware, he was in the Anglean's Marauder program. That particular unit at times, experimented. Alister has berserker tendencies, and freakish strength. Have you seen his armor? It is tungsten plating over kevlar! And he wears it all day! It wouldn't surprise me if they laced his food with a chemical, in some super soldier attempt...."
She looks at him, dead in the eye.
"I knew him several years, and he had a steady rise in physical strength, and bererk episodes, while he was in the program, since he left, the episodes have decreased by at least fifty percent, but his strength hasn't. They HAD to have done something. He was put in at the age of fifteen, and they had him for six years, Ulric. We can see the blood looks odd, but what is it?"
Piemanlives:
--Galley--
Amelia had gotten roped onto the ship's kitchen staff. It wasn't as if she actually minded kitchen duty but rather the fact that now she was obligated to assist in preparing meals for the crew as they woke up. She had put together a breakfast bake with the help of Mr. Banning, who was currently serving plates out onto the counter, and so far the crew had reacted favorably to the bacon, cheddar, biscuit and egg thing that had popped out of the oven. Well, except one.
Her gaze was drawn to Mr. Carn who had come in earlier and retrieved his serving of breakfast but didn't seem to be enjoying it. Or rather that is was as if he was preoccupied by something, perhaps his wounds were bothering him, Reagan had mentioned that he was wounded and he had walked in with a limp. The timer to the oven she was working at dinged and she withdrew the next baking dish and set it upon an adjacent cooling rack.
Perhaps she'd inquire about his condition later but for now she'd continue making breakfast.
--Bridge--
Reagan sipped out of her thermos, thankful that the extras hadn't been claimed by anyone since they had set off. The bridge crew was energetic this morning, though it might have had something to do with their adopted byword.
"Food?" The helm officer asked the navigation officer.
"Food." The navigation officer nodded his head.
Food indeed, whatever the case it wasn't as if energy helped, the course had already been plotted so the helm was currently locked in position, comms were just passively listening in on surrounding radio traffic, and navigation had already finished calculations for the current leg of the flight.
"Eagle's Shadow, Commander Frey on the Tranquility reporting."
"Morning Commander", The young woman at the comm station responded as the radio crackled "Can you hold, I'm currently getting turned over. Mr. Allen will be on soon."
"Understood Ms. Belle."
"Ma'am?" She looked at Reagan.
"You're relieved Ms. Belle." The younger (comparatively) woman gave her a small salute, brown hair bobbing as she came to attention before she left the bridge. The rest of 1st Watch slowly followed suit as 2nd Watch came to relieve them of duty. Reagan gave them a light nod as they left bridge.
Eventually the new comm officer entered the bridge, and older gentleman, clean cut, stark silver hair that could not be mistaken for gray. "Top of the morning Commander," his Eastern Ridge Highland accent coming in thick, "Sorry for the inconvenience, but you are clear."
"No worries Mr. Allen, just reporting that skies are clear and that Captain Kasporov and I are continuing ahead."
"Copy that, I relay this." His gaze went to Reagan, piercing green eyes met hers, "Captain, escorts away."
"Right than." She took a sip of her (thankfully) hot tea.
ShadedExalt:
Galley:
An unearthly groan rose above the din of breakfast, stopping all conversation. Some reached for their guns as it came again, as a disheveled looking Gaige slumped his way in to the galley, making a beeline for the coffee. "Foooooooood..."
BdrLineAzn:
0930
Engineering
"Ahh Dang It!", cries out the Head Engineer. James Crowe, man in his early thirties shakes his hand after being shock on the panel he is currently working on.
Through the night and into the next morning, he and his team are slowly replacing the many fried parts scattered in the space. Having saved the vital components keeping the ship airborne, majority of the damaged equipment connects to non-vital sources around the ship, air conditioning and lighting to name a few.
"Hmm now where does this connects to." he wonders as someone hands him rubber gloves and a toolkit, "Okay I'm cutting the power off to this, hopefully it shouldn't affect the ship."
Pulling out a pair of cutters, James cuts the wires connecting to the panel and starts to unscrew the base of it. Elsewhere the Galley's lights shuts off.
Medbay
Grabbing a vial, Ulric taps his glasses as several smaller lenses magnify his vision.
"Hmm, The Marauders you say.... I heard about that group, reports of a few raids hitting the northern coast of Chaladon. Didn't know they experimented on their own."
Holding it up to the light, he twist the small tube of glass to see if he can make something out of it. Clicking his tongue, he snaps his fingers and starts to head out the room.
"I think I just have something," he calls behind him, "If you can, follow me to my room. The others can take care of the patients for the time beinging."
Hanger Bay
"There," Courage strains as he tightens the final bolt down on Davis's plane, "That should do it."
Standing back, he takes in the gull-winged plane. Having being the most damaged, after the repairs it looks like it just came off the assembly line. In the background, several others are helping the remain three pilots in thier own repairs, not quite as extensive as repairing the first one.
"Well Davis, she should be good. If you want we can fuel her for a test run."
Carn:
Medbay
Catching up to Ulric, Alison continues,
"The Angleans are few in resources and numbers, but more Old World Technology survived there then about anywhere. I wouldn't put it past any of the factions to have a super soldier program, particularly one in their situation. Alister was a young, promising soldier, who already displayed latent tendencies that they liked. Think about it, have a superior officer who acted more like a handler, odd smelling rations, and mission after mission of hard combat. They didn't just try to augment him, they conditioned him....."
"Galley"
Stuck in memory lane, Alister begins to eat, albeit without his normal gusto."
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