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SLA Ten Forward • View topic - A Spark of Light.

A Spark of Light.

Firefly: Monarch is a sim based in the Firefly universe. The crew serves onboard a Firefly class starship running cargo, legal or not so legal.

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Sun Jun 06, 2010 2:35 am

Tarra's eyes were the size of saucers. Had Bug taken leave of his senses? He had neither the right nor the authority to allow THE ALLIANCE on board their boat. Their preparation had been emergency thing. In case. Hadn't it?

And now, the 12-year-old boy had promised them a lift to an Alliance Cruiser in orbit and they were supposed to have had another almost two days on Hera. She had told Nakali. Tighten expected it. As Shoddy had said, for repairs. They could implode, explode or some other such -plode... Surely Bug knew THAT?

Now, to add insult to injury, he returned to her asking to FEED them. When the food stores were for the Crew alone. They had been rationing and hadn't enough cashy money to spare for extra. Surely the Captain wouldn't go along with that. Surely the fact that Sam, Soto, she, and the others weren't partial... no, downright HOSTILE... to the Purple Bellies.

She must have looked like a fish out of water as she opened and closed her mouth, staring at Bug and then at Kynthia. They would get nothing from her nor from the Kitchen of the Monarch without the express say-so from the Lady in Charge.

Their Fearless Leader.

She resolutely looked at Kynthia, wating for her decision.

~Tag Kynthia / Anyone on the Ramp

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Sun Jun 06, 2010 10:23 am

Kynthia watched Bug and the Alliance Officer. Her eyes remained cool and aloof, her face impassive.

"Lieutenant Olsen? You alone, or with an entourage?" She asked after the man had made his request. She knew that no matter what, her hands were tied. Any resistance would be met with force. She forced a smile onto her face and indicated the interior of the ship.

"I'm bringing two of my junior officers with me." He replied. Behind him two nervous looking men stepped onto the ramp and headed into the cargo bay. "We'll take off as soon as I clear your ship's id with control. They will have to release the ground lock anyway."

Kynthia's eyes narrowed slightly. The Alliance had placed a ground lock on the ships? When this place blew sky high that would mean mayhem.

"Of course. Allow me to escort you to the lounge." She turned and walked up the ramp.

"Close up the ship please." she called back over her shoulder. "We're taking off shortly."

TAG - Ameri, Bug, Addy (and anyone else on the ramp)

Lt Olsen made his arrangements quickly with a stern faced man on the other side of the screen. The Monarch was cleared for takeoff, with instructions to go to the Battleship Tully directly. From there, they would be allowed to leave the system.

The fact that they were not ordered to immediately return to the surface only made Kynthia more certain that things were about to get ugly.

She also knew that Titan and Nakali weren't back on the ship. Titan had one of her shuttles. This wasn't good. As the Alliance officer strode to the bridge to give instructions to Grey, she pulled Ameri to one side.

"Merry, see if you can get hold of Titan and let him know we're taking off. He may or may not be able to return the shuttle in time, but maybe we can figure something out once we've dropped this one off. Also, if you can find Nakali to let him know, do so. But I ain't figuring on him returning."

TAG - Ameri

TAG - everyone. Feel free to ask questions!!
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Sun Jun 06, 2010 2:41 pm

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sun Jun 06, 2010 4:39 pm

Sheh sheh?
Thank you?
THANK YOU?!

Shamus had just informed their bona-fide crazy pilot, a man to whom he had no understanding of what so ever; that the ship was liable to come to piece's under even exemplary conditions and all he got was a little pat on the head and a thank you? He spent a second looking at the microphone as though it might well begin babbling to itself and vomiting oil, and then decided on a course of action that was both measured, and reasonable.

That’s why he left the engine room carrying the biggest wrench he could find, a lovely little red number longer than his arm used tightening high pressure injector lines. He liked to think of it as Enola.

 As if in keeping with his new-found spine, a recent addition to his anatomy if you knew him well enough, his shirt began to change colour once more as it randomly skipping patterns and designs stored in its tiny button sized memory.

‘I’ve only one nerve left, and you’re on it.’ the slogan said happily as he stormed into the kitchen Enola in both hands. He did not stop when he saw Tarra or little Bug. He did not stop when they saw the mother of all wrenches. He did not stop to comment on why Tarra was preparing plates of second-rate food when the good stuff was for the crew.

Oh no, Shoddy did not stop. He had a point that had to be made, and made in such a way that pilot, and those that think they know better stay out of an engineer’s ways. Engineers know exactly how much stress a hull can take, exactly what sort of performance an engine can make before coming to pieces, and more importantly they know the secrets of controlled man-made fusion reactions. They know how to make, and keep happy, baby stars.

Engineers, should in fact, be treated as Gods.

And this is the exact line of thinking Shamus ‘Shoddy’ McDonald, a man by one year of grace fresh from the comet colonies of the Kelper Belt, was using when he stormed the bridge hefting the wrench.
“Sheh sheh? SHEH SHEH!” he glared at the back of the pilot's head, his accent thickening with each word “I tell ya the boats got more broken bones than a prize-fighter and you go all glib on...me...”

There was a stranger there, in the bridge, where a stranger should not be. Sure Sam was there too, and she was strange, but she was a known strange, and acceptable strange, like a funky sock draw or rust patch: you lived with it. The new stranger was of a more, purple person persuasion. So Shamus, once so full of fire and vinegar, upon seeing the man from Allied Command did the only rational thing his little Scottish brain could think to do.

He dropped the wrench and threw his stick thin arms in the air.

Oh, to be 19 again...

TAG-Anyone really

Shamus 'Shoddy' McDonald
Now my only character, so now 4 times as crazy.
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Fellow Crew Injured By Keth: X


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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Sam Crerar » Sun Jun 06, 2010 5:24 pm

Sam's reaction to the Alliance on board her vessel, her sanctuary from their evils, was anger and disgust. Muttering to herself in Chinese with a drunken slur enough to make her words unintelligble, but her meaning the same. The officers probably just thought she was the average drunk, or maybe the reason that this ship seemingly friendly with the Alliance was at the anniversary, but didn't pay her any mind other than that. Until Shoddy walked in with a large wrench, hollering, squeaking, and dropping said wrench.

Now Sam had an acceptable non-Alliance officer outlet for her anger. Poor Shoddy. She stood up quickly, tottering just slightly, and grabbed Shoddy by the brightly blazing shirt and pulled him over close to her. "Bizui, Ben tian-sheng de yi dui rou!" She snapped, "I will use your wrench to break every bone in your body, to match Monarch, if you EVER threaten Grey Bruehl with a wrench again. Ky knows theses engines well enough to fix 'em if she has to, I can shove you out an airlock. Ky and I are the only ones who get to decide if he gets beaten to a pulp or thrown out an airlock. Now, ignore these fine purplebellied officers and go play with your engines before I decide assault charges are worth your hide."
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Sun Jun 06, 2010 6:41 pm

Grey Bruehl turned at the sound of the brogue. Saw the wrench and felt the anger. He would have dropped to his knees if he wasn't sitting down at the pilot console. He calmly put his hands behind his neck, interlacing his fingers in Sit Present while everything went into slow motion. He could hear his heart beat in his ears. See the kid spit out hate with each word. Knew "It" was coming.

He hadn't thought he would end like this. Dying because he told some frog eyed kid he understood how crippled the ship was, that he appreciated the additional warning and he'd be careful, very gorram careful.

This wasn't his first trip up in a wounded bird. Hell, in the war he took one up with half a thruster and the cargo bay on fire. That was a bird that was seriously not making another trip. Next to that and a few others the Monarch was practically brand spankin new.

And it was because the boy hadn't seen the war Bruehl fought that he had no idea what kind of pilot Bruehl was. What made Bruehl turn against the side he was fighting on and how he wound up here, on the injured Monarch with a kid pretending to be the best engineer ever, welding pretty patterns on every place he thought was a crack in the sub structure. And now Grey Bruehl was about to die at the hands of a 19 year old grease monkey.

Nothing he wanted. But it was coming anyway. He saw the wind up. The piercing gaze, and then.

He watched it all the way down and bounce once, twice. He watched the wrench fall to the deck.

He stared at the wrench as it lay near his foot. From somewhere nearby Sam's voice was raised and she was speakin pinyan. Cursin, and layin down the law right quick.

Grey Bruehl turned back to his work and tried to pretend like nothing had happened but he made a mental note to close and lock that bridge hatch from now on when he was piloting. One day Sam and the Alliance wouldn't be there when the engineer got a little more agitated than what was good for Bruehl.

He looked up to the overhead and was grateful that the cargo bay ramp light had gone green. His hand automatically went to the mic. His voice rolled with the practice of hundreds of dust offs.

"Welcome to the Monarch folks, this is your pilot. We are making final preparations to launch. Please stow your equipment and bring your seats to the upright position. Ship's crew please check and clear the flight deck," He briefly glanced at the wrench before continuing. "We'll be jetting into atmo in approximately five minute. We hope you enjoy your flight while aboard the vessel. Once we're in the black the no smoking lamp will be extinguished and you'll be free to move around the ship. Thank you and please consider flying the Monarch on your next trip into the Black."

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Sun Jun 06, 2010 10:17 pm

Kynthia's eyes widened at the announcement that came through the speaker set into the wall. She placed a hand immediately over her mouth, desperately trying to remain aloof and calm and.. well.. all captainy.

It didn't work.

The laughter bubbled out of her no matter how hard she tried to keep it locked away. It was priceless. She could only lean against the wall and place her hands on her thighs, and allow the laugh to come.

((OOC - beautiful moment chaps. ))
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby popcornman » Mon Jun 07, 2010 1:03 pm

Addy sat in the kitchen when an Alliance Lieutenant walked through the corner of the kitchen from the stairs and toward the bridge. If Addy had been leaning back in his chair, he would had certainly fallen backward from the surprise but he wasn't, he was in the middle of drinking from his mug when he looked up to see the alliance officer. He managed to stifle his chocking until the officer was out of the kitchen. What the hell was he doing here on the ship? He thought as he finished the remainder of the whiskey.

They weren't there for him or he would already be in custody. Addy took a deep breath. Big mistake, the mixture of the sudden intake of air and the booze made him light-headed. "Just stay calm, and act normal..." He muttered to himself. He looked back to the empty mug in front of him before standing. He wanted two things, more whiskey, maybe just the bottle so he wouldn't have to get up again and his baby.

He returned and deposited the bottle on the table in the lounge area just as a voice came over the speaker. Addy listened to the message and could not help but laugh as he sat down setting the violin next to him.

Still chuckling, he poured more of the whiskey into his mug.

Tag anyone in the kitchen/lounge area
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Mon Jun 07, 2010 3:09 pm

Tarra had calmed down some as she saw the Old Monk toddle off safe and sound, almost as though he hadn't really been there at all. He hadn't shared his truth with her over tea, but certainly had given her much to consider, and even more to think on.

Breathing in the last of the air from Hera, she stepped back, watching the ramp close on a rather whirlwind tour. Closing her eyes for a moment, she said a silent blessing for the those left behind on the planet: those that had chosen to remain and those that were still searching.

It was a bit disconcerting, but she took another breath and moved to the kitchen to clean up the remainder of the tea as well as prepare something for the Alliance Officers. Bug had come with her and they had been standing when the livid Shoddy bent on destruction had marched resolutely through the Kitchen. Exchanging a look with the young lad, she put a hand on his shoulder and shook her head. "Leave him be," she whispered. It wasn't a place anyone wanted to be when a wrench was removed from its proper place aboard.

~Tag Bug

Showing him where things were in the kitchen as she whipped and fussed to get something simple done for them, she smiled down at Bug and asked, "So how are you doing? Did you like Hera?"

~Tag Bug

Addy had sat, sipping whiskey until he caught sight of the Alliance officer that had passed by before Shoddy. It would be an interesting scene in the cockpit, but it was even more interesting as she watched the new passenger almost inhale his liquid. That didn't sound too healthy, and the rest of his innards seem to agree.

It was tense aboard the Monarch, like you could cut it with a knife. It seemed to be building to something until Tarra heard the wrench drop and Sam's voice raised in anger. Then the intercom went. She heard the voice and couldn't help but smile a bit; he didn't sound the least bit like a slave then did he? And her cautious lips curled wider into a big grin. They were an official liner now, weren't they?

She chuckled as they worked in the kitchen, feeling lighter and certainly thankful for the lifted mood as they worked.

~Tag Bug / Addy / Anyone really

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Tue Jun 08, 2010 12:51 am

"Leave him be," Tarra whispered.

Burton Sifton was all about leaving violent men to themselves, mostly. He merely nodded his acquiescense and went about his duty, trying to be helpful while staying out of the cook's way. She was far from resenting him, it seemed to him. Showing him where things were in the kitchen as she whipped and fussed to get something simple done for them, she smiled down at Bug and asked, "So how are you doing? Did you like Hera?"

"Well, yeah," he replied, "kind of. I didn't see much, what with trying to get the ship ready to fly again. I think I tagged most of the stress cracks in the frame, so I'm sure she'll hold together. Anyway, it looked mostly like a fogey party out there, anyway."

Bug got into his work so much he barely noticed the announcement from the slave pilot. Soon he was ready with two oblong divided plates to take to the men below, complete with a pair of self heat coffees. Balancing the burden expertly he smiled his thanks at Tarra and headed below.

He had only set the meals before the men when the ship gently shuddered as the engines lit one at a time and began to wind up to speed. A few words of service were exchanged as Bug got to his own lift station, upstairs at the back of the ship, in the hot engine room.

Tag Shoddy?
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Quamie » Tue Jun 08, 2010 8:48 am

Ameri heard Kynthia's request and vanished after a quick, polite nod to the Alliance officers. Kynthia knew what she was doing, and Kynthia allowed them on the ship. They wouldn't hurt them. She ran off to find Titan.

She got on the comm and rang both Titan and Nakali's links. "We're lifting off soon, transporting some Alliance soldiers."

It was short and sweet, and she hung around, waiting for a reply. The engines began to hum, and she knew they would be lifting soon. Grey's voice rolling through the ship just confirmed it, and made her smile. The homey words were so out of place to the Monarch, as first glance. Until the Monarch became home. Ameri leaned her cheek against the smooth wall, holding on in case of turbulence. Would Titan and Nakali get there in time?
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Sun Jun 13, 2010 11:03 am

Slowly the ramp closed behind the officer. As it did, Kynthia shot a look at the nearest Browncoats with a look of "Oh holy fu** what now?" Some looked sympathetic, others not so much. There wasn't much she could do to defray the damage the simple act of following orders would do.

Ah well. Time enough for that later.

She hurried to the bridge, snagging the intership comm as she did. "This is the Captain. Strap in and settle down. We'll be taking off in a moment."

TAG - all on board.

She would have to worry about her missing shuttle and missing crew later. Once they were free of the Alliance side trip at any rate.

Nodding to Grey, she slid into the second seat. "Take off please Grey. Straight to the co-ordinates that the officer has given. She'll complain. A lot. Ain't been all that happy in a while this ship. Guess it was that tornado after all."

TAG - Grey.

The Monarch fired her engines, an odd secondary rumble coming from one of the pivotals and thrusters along the opposite side. She listed for a moment, then straightened up. Kynthia watched Grey work the controls as if they were part of him. She smiled briefly. Then her eyes narrowed again as they broke atmo. The number of Alliance ships had increased. They might be one of the few ships to make it clear. She prayed it was so.

Ahead of them, the massive battleship Tully loomed over all the ships nearby.

TAG - all.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sun Jun 13, 2010 5:20 pm

So far...they weren’t dead.

Yet.

There was always the chance the ship would simply come to pieces at some later point in time, giving each man and woman on board the chance to feel the wonders of explosive decompression whilst they tried to suck vacuum. Shamus didn’t tend to let such negative thoughts cloud his mind, and when they did gather in number it was for a short spell of time like clouds on a windswept day.

But not today.

Shamus tended the tea kettle that was the beating heart of the Monarch the way an overly protective parent might a sick child. He administered what aid he could, adjusting the artificial gravity settings to shift the Monarchs mass quotation away from buckled support struts to more sturdy areas. He even sang a little ditty, well he hummed it, and seeing as they were so far in one piece he was deeming it a raging success.

He patted the engine covering, the blistering heat from within leaking through as a pleasant pulsating warmth. It felt like a heart beat, steady and strong, but he could hear a faint murmur from deep within. A worry for tomorrow, should it come.

“Ya done right grand girl, ya done right grand.” He whispered to the machine “Now we’re set to take it easy, no need to fret. Cap’n knows what ails ya, she’ll look out for ya no worries.”

He gently lifted his hand away, seeing that the paint he’d used before liftoff to imbue the ship with every blessing he knew had melted, leaving behind the impression of his smudged hand print upon the casing. He looked down on the hand, seeing the white and blue paint smeared with engine grease and rust clinging to his skin.

If a ship could bleed...

“Bug!” he called out, still looking at his hand “How we doing on those stress readings, we ain’t gone lost a wing or nuttin’? Cap mite not be happy if we did that. Got a feeling she'd be a might riled.”

Cap might not be too happy when her first mate gets about the telling of the morning of the mad wrench swinging engineer, he thought to himself.

TAG-Bug, anyone else.

Shamus ‘Shoddy’ McDonald
Ensign Keth Soban, Medic on the USS Legacy

Fellow Crew Injured By Keth: X


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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby popcornman » Sun Jun 13, 2010 6:36 pm

Addy looked at the speaker as the Captain's message tore through the ship still smiling from the pilot's brilliant commentary. He looked up through the window above for a moment before looking down to the little case at the side of the chair which he still occupied. He looked around for a moment, Tarra was still in the kitchen and the boy who had saluted the Alliance Officer had just gone below with a tray of food and what not. He looked back to the case feeling the rumble grow as the ship moving skyward. He extracted the violin expertly from the case. He plucked the four stings. Turned one nob and then the violin was home under his check.

It had been a tradition for every ship in his father's fleet to either play over the PA or play a song as more of a good luck charm. He smiled to himself as the bow and the strings touched. He played a more upbeat song then his previous. It had been a a favorite of his Father, and it also reflected Addy's own view on leaving the planet and heading into the black.

Tag anyone
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Sun Jun 13, 2010 9:31 pm

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Wed Jun 16, 2010 7:42 pm

Well, they were underway. Another planet and another few people gone again. Some as said goodbye with a nice send off. And others? Well... not so much.

It was kind of important to find out if Nakali had left his gear aboard. After all, he had once put her in charge of it and it seemed only right to make sure he would have it. So on top of trying to make nice with the Alliance while not giving them the best of their food for a short jaunt to their cruiser in orbit, she had other chores to complete as well.

The feeling aboard was strained. But there wasn't a need to have it spread too quickly through the ship. What atmosphere could she create with minimal ingredients and some time to kill? Poor choice of words to be sure, but still... Cinnamon was prized, but it did waft. So... cinnamon toast? Buns? Perhaps just some... cinnamon nuts. Didn't they have some almonds somewhere that she could capitalize on? Not sugared... but just baked cinnamon. THAT... would work.

~Tag Any

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Thu Jun 17, 2010 10:41 am

Bug looked at the readings. They were not quite as bad as even he expected.

"That pilot must have a pretty good feeling for her already, Shoddy. I think we're going to be alright." He went on to eplain the readings in detail as he began gathering his tools for another round of welding amidst the structures if the hull he could reach by crawlspace.
~Mike Heywood~
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Fri Jun 18, 2010 8:37 am

“’Bout as much as we could expect...” Shamus replied, musing over the readings Bug had rattled off. The Monarch was most definitely space bound now; another trip through the atmosphere would be a one way affair. And odds were they’d not be landing in piece in any case.

“Now ya just be careful out there Bug, we’re in vacuum now. Ya hear any whistles out there when you’re working, you run and shut the door after ya. Okay?” he ruffled the young boys hair, and directed him towards the door “Now get, I gotta sweet talk a miracle or two out of the ol’girl, and it requires me using old Clan McDonald secrets.”


TAG-Bug

Shamus 'Shoddy' McDonald
Ensign Keth Soban, Medic on the USS Legacy

Fellow Crew Injured By Keth: X


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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Sat Jun 19, 2010 1:42 am

Bug scampered out the door just in time to avoid a concussion as it shut. he was in a good mood, evidenced by his smile, his swagger under the weight of his kit, and the tune he sang, an old Chinese drinking song he really didn't understand and was consequently murdering the lyrics of.

He stopped short passing a bit of paneling in the entrance to the galley and dining room, and not even looking around, gave out a cheerful, "Mind your eyes!" He took off the panel exposing the metalwork underneath, and spotting what had seemed to tell him was there, he put his welder up to the hairline crack running two thirds through the beam. A moment later, a briliant burst of blue light and a crackling hiss burst from the little machine.

"Not to fret, folks," the boy related to the people that he thought were sure to be about. "No kind of problem we can't attend." And with that he put down the welder, picked up the panel, and banged it back into its customary place. Then he wiped his grubby face with a rag except for the two circles bound to be left under the goggles now resting on his forehead. With a grin, he scanned the room, looking for any other tell tale skewd panel or whatnot.

~tags in the galley. Get em while they're hot!
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Sat Jun 19, 2010 6:21 pm

Tarragon had the nuts blanching in the stove, a small mixture of butter and cinnamon bubbling on the top for brushing. Buttered cinnamon almonds would do for stress, and tasty besides. So, when Bug came into the kitchen, she was all ready to share. Excepting he wasn't there for food. He was... repairing things as they flew, as though they were about to fall out of the Black and he was placating them.

She had nothing to say as he moved throughout the kitchen and lounge area; her mouth was open in surprise and a bit of concern that had to be clearly written on her face. As though some words spoken as he went on his personal adventure might make her feel a little more secure. Open flames and such in a ship that was closed tight as a drum. With issues regarding the frame, and could spring a leak as soon as spit.

How reassuring.

As she caught Bug's eye, she smiled a little and came back to herself. "No fretting here, Bug," Tarra said. "Hope you don't find what you're looking for and that it's all done." Because this type of activity might attract the attention of their unwelcome Alliance passengers. And it made her rather uncomfortable. A lot didn't sit right with her, and she hoped that when they docked with the cruiser that THAT would be the end of it. But if there was more to their fussing over the Monarch... Well, time would tell. Or maybe SOMEbody might.

~Tag Bug and Kitchen folk

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Mon Jun 21, 2010 7:51 pm

Kynthia sniffed. Then stifled a groan. She wasn't the only one who sniffed.

Olsen looked around a slight smile crossing his face.

"Get me some of whatever smells good." he demanded. Kynthia merely stared at him, crossing her arms and leaning back in her chair.

"Say please." she said. " I ain't your servant. That food is made for my crew an' passengers." Just because the man had commandeered her ship didn't make him almighty ruler of said vessel. Judging by how still Olsen became, he was aware of exactly that too.

"Captain, I would appreciate some of whatever smells so good." He waited a beat. "Please."

Kynthia's mouth quirked in a wry grin. She nodded and stood up. "Grey, keep us on heading. Should only be a few minutes now afore we're getting instructions from the ship. Be so good as to send whatever identification this officer wants when they ask for it. Please."

She walked from the bridge, heading quickly towards the lounge and galley. She stopped in the doorway, watching for a moment. Then strode over to Tarra.

"Alliance wants some of that cinnamon stuff." she said quietly. "Hand us over a plate would you?"

TAG - Tarra

She looked around the rest of the group in the lounge. "Listen up. We're about to dock at the battleship. Be on your best, an' we'll be making happy trails right shortly afterwards. Dong ma? I want to get to Dandelion Station sooner instead of later."

TAG - all in the lounge.

Hidden deep in the ship, far away from eyes that might know something was wrong, a small connection finally broke in the wiring. In a ship that was known for it's power fluctuations, the microvolt that dropped on certain circuits wouldn't even be noticed.

For now.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Tue Jun 22, 2010 6:13 pm

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Thu Jun 24, 2010 12:36 am

"Alliance wants some of that cinnamon stuff." she said quietly. "Hand us over a plate would you?"

Tarra looked up to the Captain and nodded. "Of course," she said and spread the sunshine on top of the blanched almonds. Plenty left for the rest of them. Everything she was making had a limited shelf life, and eating now was better than holding onto something that might be considered off in a few days.

"If you're feeling peckish, I've held quite a few back, Kynthia, so's you don't have to give 'em all to the Alliance." It wasn't a good smile she gave as she mentioned the purple bellies. Handing over a small plate, she nodded to her and indicated the baking sheet with the almonds, clarified butter and cooking cinnamon.

Ky looked around the rest of the group in the lounge. "Listen up. We're about to dock at the battleship. Be on your best, an' we'll be making happy trails right shortly afterwards. Dong ma? I want to get to Dandelion Station sooner instead of later."

Nodding, Tarra turned back and slid the sheet into the oven to let the heat sear everything together in a golden, tasty treat. After all, in her case, there was nothing more than her best. And moving on was preferable to staying there. Hera had been... a challenge. It heralded more changes to the crew and she busied herself before putting too fine a point on it.

Enough harping, she chastised herself, and she used her time in the kitchen as therapy, pushing the emptiness out and filling it with the joy of cooking.

Besides, it was Dandelion Station. They should be there soon enough, and looked at the rest of them in the Lounge.

~Tag Kynthia / Everyone in the Kitchen and Lounge

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sat Jun 26, 2010 5:52 am

Shamus waited a moment to be sure Bug wasn't going to double back or nothing, having discovered he'd left behind some important so-and-such. He then quickly tip toed around the humming engine block to where his small bag of personal effects was hung, and ripped it open.

Inside were various engineering related paraphernalia, most of which were trinkets and curios form previous jobs and employment's, of which he felt sure the items would not be missed. A heat exchange vain from a terra forming rig the size of a small city, a perfect sphere of compressed titanium retrieved from the heart of a gas giant by a faulty helium dredger.

All of these items Shamus knew had little value where he found them, the first example had been broken, and the second was akin to a barnacle attached to the hull of a ship of the waves. But here and now, each scrap from someone else's trash pile, might well be priceless. Who was Shamus to question the will of the fates in delivering him spare parts?

But he wasn't after spares today, as his hand pulled and tugged the battered cortex reader from the bottom of the bag. Its casing was chipped and cracked, and its screen was scratched to within a inch of being useless, and apart from being nearly 20 years behind the bleeding edge, it was Shamus's prized possession.

It had been someone's once upon a time.

The little machine warmed to life slowly, the small screen displaying a field of colorful images marred only by the pock marks of dead pixel clusters that seemed to grow with every month. He waited a moment, looked back towards the sealed hatch way back into the Monarch, and selected the file that was saved into the little machines memory.

The screen showed a small video file Shamus could see every time he closed his eyes, and mouthed the first line he always heard. It showed a picture of a woman, decked out in oil stained overalls marked on one shoulder with the blue and white bandana of her Scottish heritage, and on the other with the logo of the Blue Sky Skymine that was home to the McDonald clan.

She wasn't a super model, with a face or figure that could launch a thousand starships or then thousand starship troopers, her's was the beauty won of a hard days labour for a better future. She'd fought for every thing she had, which Shamus could see evidence of from a small bundle of cloth wrapped up on her lap, a tiny chubby arm with nub like fingers reaching out to play with a pendant the woman held out for them.

Shamus unconsciously reached to his own neck, fingering the same pedant beneath the cloth of his shirt.

'You don't know me yet.' the image spoke, looking out from the computers small screen with a voice that a small scratchy speaker didn't do justice, and then back down to the babe at play on her lap 'But I'm your ma'm.'

TAG-No one, blame the mountains of anti histamines I'm on.

Shamus 'Shoddy' McDonald
Ensign Keth Soban, Medic on the USS Legacy

Fellow Crew Injured By Keth: X


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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby popcornman » Sat Jun 26, 2010 1:03 pm

Addy was stuck. He wanted to go to his room but he would have to risk showing his face. It was true that warrant had been last shown on the cortex four months ago but there was still a risk. He looked back to the bottle in front of him then around to the kitchen. The smell was wonderful, whatever Tarra had been making had to be good. The captain was there was well and she turned and looked at him or rather the area he was in. He looked back.

Ky looked around the rest of the group in the lounge. "Listen up. We're about to dock at the battleship. Be on your best, an' we'll be making happy trails right shortly afterwards. Dong ma? I want to get to Dandelion Station sooner instead of later."

Her words made any effects of the whiskey disappear in a heart beat. The fear of attaching to the battleship now drove him. He nodded and forced himself to take the risk he had been contemplating. Now would be a good time as any to go and disappear for awhile, maybe even change into something that better fit his previous lifestyle but nothing too flashy just something that would make him look more like a passenger and less like the photo he had last seen of himself on the cortex. He stood slowly, and as causally as he could walked down the stairs and toward his bunk.

As it turned out, the officers did not notice him as he moved quietly to his bunk, bottle and case under his arm.

He took a deep breath after closing the door, the room spun but only a little this time. He looked around the room, everything still in its place. He replaced the bottle and then took out a dark blue shirt button down shirt with a mandarin collar, and black pleated pants. He combed his hair out straight, the long brown hair fell down around his shoulders with only the one clump in front of the side of his face. He looked down at himself for a moment, straightened up to his full height, turned for a moment before walking through the door and back up toward the Lounge. The officers did not notice the change or him for that matter.

He made his way back to the kitchen, and retrieved his mug.

"Tarra, is there any of that tea you made from earlier, it was rather good?"

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