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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 Tavey » Wed Jun 30, 2010 11:45 am

With cinnamon goodies duly handed over, and passengers, crew and well.. one hoped no dead bodies around, the Monarch finally docked at the battleship.

It dwarfed them.

It also reeked of Alliance red tape and infinitely annoying rituals to ensure that everyone knew who was in charge.

Kynthia walked the Alliance officer to the ramp to see him off. He nodded sharply to her as he stepped off the ship, to be met by several ranking officers. Inwardly, she groaned. Outwardly, she kept her face neutral and polite.

"Captain Talland?" one of them stepped forward. That was enough to make her concerned. "Thank you for letting us use The Monarch for transportation."

Thanking? What the gorram hell was going on...

"We would like to know the whereabouts of Colonel Armstrong."

Ahhhhhh..... that explained it.

"Well, last time I heard, he was assassinated in his sleep back on his little planet out near the rim." She replied. "'Course, given his history of wrigglin' out of places he don't want to be, wouldn't surprise me if he turned all snake like and found a way out. I ain't seen the body myself."

There was silence. "I see." said one of the ranking officers. She didn't care what his name was so didn't ask. "Also, we have been asked to pass on a message from someone you know."

Kynthia strode off the ship with a serious frown creasing her face. "A message?" she demanded. "You mean you was honestly choosing my ship for this little jaunt for a reason?"

The officer snapped his fingers and one of his minions scurried forward holding a clipboard type piece of equipment. The minion tapped the clipboard and brought up a short terse note.

"To Captain Kynthia Talland of The Ship Monarch. From Abbot Jeremiah Voght. Be free Captain. Your contract is finished."

Kynthia stood numbly as the message was read. She nodded and requested to be allowed to leave the Tully and head out into the black. After some questions about the direction she was planning on heading (Lilac, of course..) permission was granted.

Kynthia returned to the interior of the ship. She closed the ramp and grabbed the internal mic.

"This is the Captain. We're buttoned up. Get us away from this here blockade at a respectful pace. Next stop, Dandelion Station. No detours."

TAG - all on the ship.

((OOC - we'll be heading into the next adventure soon.. wrap up anything you want to regarding Hera while we're still within range!))
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Quamie » Wed Jun 30, 2010 8:58 pm

Even though she was by trade a medic, Ameri relished the times when she had no medical work to do. It meant everyone was healthy and whole, and she liked that. She enjoyed the times when the chances of violence were low- or at least, lower.

Ameri was, at the moment, spending her time in the galley working on a small painting. She'd finished painting the galley and lounge area, and the paint was fresh and new, barely dry. She smiled, looking around. It looked homey, and smelled homey with Tarra's cooking. So she lounged, enjoying the peace and quiet while Kynthia got the Alliance off the ship, and Addy and Tarra talked, half paying attention, half painting.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Thu Jul 01, 2010 12:25 pm

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

Looking up at the tall passenger, Tarra nodded and smiled. "Surely. Pull up a chair and I'll put on the kettle. Won't be a moment."

As she fussed with the water and they approached the Tully without any incident, she stole a couple of glances at him through her long bangs that had fallen in front of her face. She opened the tin; banged up and well-loved and sealed almost tight enough to struggle with. But the top popped off with a gentle tinging sound and she spooned a few of the leaves into a small diffuser hanging it inside of the pot.

Process. Completion. Each step as measured and practiced as the first. His talent for music was a refreshing one aboard; no dead cats screeching or flutey tones of a recorder, but a smooth and melancholy tone that was almost like a voice. It had a story to tell, his instrument, as did the owner. It seemed appropriate in that moment that both were hidden in plain sight, and silent. But it was almost like a palpable silence, as though any moment longer and it would have to be filled by voice, or tune.

The docking clamps settled in place and she listened to the docking procedure, glad to stay in the Kitchen and fuss over tea. She didn't need to see the Alliance or its uniforms again. And certainly didn't need to be reminded of a former life that was never to return. What she left behind each place they landed was getting to be a little more important every time. Truth, said the Monk.

Oh, Tarragon Hunter could show him truth. Pain was truth, and the only thing that made it easier to bear was her cooking. THAT was truth.

And that each new thing she cooked filled a hole in her that seemed to never be satisfied. THAT was truth too.

But the biggest truth of all was that Tarragon Hunter, formerly known as Serena Johnson, dealt with loss every day and was tired of losing. What she could decide by herself in that kitchen as The Monarch pulled away from the Alliance Cruiser Tully was that losing was part of life. She just needed to find other things that would comfort her in those moments of quiet desperation.

The water had boiled and she smiled as she poured the water of the leaves. The smell was a reminder of what had been, and she inhaled the steamy aroma as she looked up. "Sugar and milk, Mr. Addy?"

~Tag Addy / Kitchen Folk

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Thu Jul 01, 2010 10:20 pm

"Hello again folks. This is your pilot. We have been cleared to resume the next leg of our journey." He glanced over to see the ramp light go out. "Final preparations are being made by the Captain and crew."

"Although we will be departing at near idle speed you may experience a slight loss of gravity. This is normal. However, please remain in your seats as the power shifts to other systems. Once the cabin lights brighten again, " He had his fingers crossed on that one. "You'll be free to move about the ship."

It was time for the plugs.

"We'll keep you updated on conditions as they develop. To make your trip aboard the Monarch a little more comfortable. There are complimentary cinnamon coated almonds available courtesy of our chef, Tarragon Hunter. "

"And for nicks and scratches. Don't forget to check out our fine medical room. Our internist Ameri provides personalized care and attention."

"While you're walking around ship you might notice one or two of our intrepid crew hard at work fine tuning a minor non-vital piece of equipment." He knew his tongue would turn black from lying. " as part of our routine maintenance schedule."

"The First Mate aboard ship will gladly answer your questions and provide you with important information." He pause briefing before continuing remembering the little exchange between Sam and Shoddy on the bridge. Lots of direction too, but he didn't say that. "So sit back and enjoy the rest of your flight aboard Captain Talland's Monarch. We hope you'll fly with us again soon."
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sat Jul 03, 2010 5:45 am

Pilot and flight attendant, was there little that the man up front could not do?

Apart from calling upon all the wee folk at Fates command to do all manner of evil things to the Monarchs delicate constitution that is. Shoddy was a firm believer that if you treated the gods, goddesses, and the pantheon of lesser spirits with the proper amount of respect, you could make a lump of coal fly like a sparrow. But goading them with promises of mortal competence...

Highest folly, surely.

He rubbed his hands on his stained workers coveralls resplendent in sewed on patches and symbols, swapping them for the brightly coloured shirt and kilt upon seeing real work needing his attention. He felt the subtle flutter in the ships gravity as power flowed to and from one system to the other. What he did not feel after that slight flutter, was gravity returning...

Uhoh.

Before he knew it items not properly secured to the deck or the walls came free, the slight bump created by the Monarchs thrust enough to give everything a slight tumbling spin. This also included one over active Scot, now getting a close up inspection of the engine rooms pipe riddled ceiling. Zero gravity wasn’t new to him in any way shape or form, he’d grown up with it and found it easy enough to remember how to twist and move without sending himself flying off.

Reaction, counter reaction, followed by concussion if you didn’t watch out, which he did.

As he pushed himself down off the ceiling, he passed the closed door to engineering, seeing through its thick vacuum sealed glass porthole the galley and dining room. Folks walked about the right way up, and place mats on the table stayed put. So, it would seem the fates were picking on the grease monkey today for the incident with the wrench on the flight deck.

Better the gremlins giggles than the captain or first mates wrath, still-

That was when there was a loud guttural hum, and with a splutter of returning power the engineering sections gravity plating ramped back up to full power. No steady adjustment to the local metric, no warning at all, just a instant one gee of gravity...which Shamus hanging five feet off the deck. Words were spoken in hate to a certain trickster god, and followed quickly by the sound of falling debris and a loud splashing noise.

The thing that staggered into the dining area looked like Shamus, but again didn’t look like Shamus. Instead of boisterous Scot in loud colours, there was a rather subdued fellow coated nearly head to toe in a thick, and dripping, layer of oil slick brown vacuum lubricant. He tried using the sleeve of one arm to move the substance away from his eyes, but only succeeded in removing it to another place on his face.

“Best not be askin’.” He said in way of explanation to his new declaration of war on fashion “Readily expect the wee devils are waiting for the word to do some more mischief if we give’m call for it. Anyone got a handkerchief, towel perhaps?”

TAG-Galley folk, apparently BP make gravity in the future :)

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Ships Engineer and Grease Monkey
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 Jul 04, 2010 1:57 am

Addy act as casual as he could, while Tarra put the pot on. He barely heard the docking clamps lock and then later unlock. The wonderful smell woke him from the trance.

"Sugar and milk, Mr. Addy?"

"No but thanks for offering." He picked up the cup and sipped. The warm liquid slid down his throat gracefully. "Now that is a good cup of tea." The later he said as under his breath. The smell was delightful as it made its way to his nostrils and then lingered there.

A voice broke over the speaker. It was the happy pilot again. The words "we have been cleared to resume" relaxed him almost as if a switch had been thrown. He was free from another close call. It was interesting that most people avoid you if you look like you belong. As he relaxed his guard lowered a little. He listened to the rest of the message before turning to Tarra again. "Who is the cheery fellow who's piloting? In all my travels, I have never had the wonderful announcements like that on a ship this small. It's nice. A lot like the luxury liner announcements."

Tag Tarra/galley folk

A shape moved out of the corner of his eye. He turned slightly and looked. A man stood covered in lubricant.

“Best not be askin’.” He said in way of explanation to his new declaration of war on fashion “Readily expect the wee devils are waiting for the word to do some more mischief if we give’m call for it. Anyone got a handkerchief, towel perhaps?”

Addy looked at the man for a long moment. "I do not think that either of those would help too much," but he removed a handkerchief from his pants pocket and offered it to him. "I don't believe we have been officially been introduced, I'm Addy."

Tag Shoddy
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sun Jul 04, 2010 6:03 pm

Squelch.

Not the most beautiful sound in all the worlds of man, but in this circumstance appropriate. Shamus gripped the man’s hand firmly with both of his, the hand shake being the universal indicator of male superiority in a group dynamic. With wolves it was who was the biggest bad ass, in the branches of the armed services it was who had the biggest stick to beat the other guy over the head with, but in civilian circles it was the good old hand shake.

It just didn’t help that Shamus’s hands were coated in thick industrial hydrocarbons used in the lubrication of the Monarchs numerous moving parts that existed outside the ship’s pressure holding hull. In the total vacuum of space, where even simply going from shadow to distant sun light could mean staggering temperature differences of hundreds of degrees, normal oils just couldn’t hack it. They either froze up, or combusted, due to the temperature differential. Even the lack of gravity was a problem.

Vacuum lubricant on the other hand was a god send: its freezing/boiling points were so fantastically buried in either end of the spectrum as make them perfect for the rigors of space travel. It also had a peculiar trait allowing for a slightly piezoelectric effect, which gave it a minute magnetic field, enough to allow it to cling to a hydraulic ram attached to a engine pivotal or docking arm.

Though as Shamus’s oil covered hands released Addy’s, it turned out to have another interesting side effect: it was nearly impossible to clean off. It simply moved from one surface to another, going from handkerchief to hand, hand to handkerchief, and hand to hand, in a seemingly unending circle that could give anyone a compulsive disorder.

“Shamus McDonald. Though most get by with callin’ me Shoddy on account of me home folk.” The Scot said with a smile, dabbing the still white, then black, and then back to white handkerchief to his cheeks “Supposed head bottle washer on this fine old lass, though tis days like this I feel more like her nurse maid than not.”

A pipe from somewhere gurgled as trapped gases moved hither and yonder.

“Now...ya know I didn’t mean that, ain't got nothing but the sweetest affections for you my painted lady.” Shamus stated, looking at the ceiling as he confided in Addy by leaning close and speaking in hushed tones “She’s not in the best state, but like Mr Prozac up front says we got me and Bug working on putting right as many wrongs as we can find.”

He frowned for a moment, before his face brightened.

“Oh that reminds me!” he said, clicking his fingers and sending ball bearing sized blobs of oil flying off into the dining room, pulled faster and further than inertia alone would allow due to its unique magnetic attraction “Don’t used the head down in the passengers section. We had to monkey about with the artificial gravity, lighten some load bearing struts by movin’ the weight from one part’oh’the’ship to the other. The porcelain goddess down there is currently experiencing 2 gees of gravity. Would make any call you had to take...well...interesting. And...er...er....’cuse me, Miss Hunter....”

Shamus put on his best smile, in fact his only smile, that showed of nearly every tooth he had and strained every facial muscle known to medical science.

“Is that tea? I...I couldn’t trouble ya for a just a wee little cup, but a thimble’s worth really...”

TAG-Addy, Tarra, nd a plumber apparently.

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 KendleRJ » Mon Jul 12, 2010 5:08 pm

Tarragon Hunter had no other choice but to smile. In fact, it was her dear and fluffy god-given right since the man, covered by globules of some lubrication tried to chase them around his being with a small square of fabric that was the size of a polite piece of paper. And the kid, put together apparently by spit, engineering grease and the clumpy pieces of leftover goop that rested on the underside of someone's chair cushion, wanted tea.

"I'm afraid, Shoddy, we don't have a thimble," she said, lips quivering with humour as she fussed about for a cup. "But I think that this mug should do you just fine." Handing it over after filling it with tea, she looked him squarely in the eye. "Milk and sugar?"

~Tag Shoddy

Trying to size up how much she would have to wash that cup, keep the runoff out of the drains if they intended on having a fully running kitchen... And glad that she wasn't going to be washing that handkerchief, because she'd just as soon write it off as collateral damage as try to use it ever again. Because, it wouldn't ever clean anything completely ever again in its short career.

"So, I should be careful in the passenger area then, huh?" she said, glad that she had her own head in the larger quarters. It helped as she needed to water her own plants and keep herself clean. And also, apparently, to avoid an anti-grav head that must be one HELL of a mess.

"Hope you have your own head too, Addy," she said and smiled. "Need a top up?"

~Tag Addy and Kitchen Folk

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Mon Jul 12, 2010 8:30 pm

The Monarch flew into the Black away from Hera at a respectable speed. Nothing too fast that would get the attention of the Alliance. Kynthia stared grimly out of one of the windows at the ships behind them. And the huge planet behind that. Somewhere on that planet was her other shuttle.

She turned to the nearest cortex screen and punched in Titan's Ident code to send him a message. She had to see if she could get it back before too much longer.

Message sent, she settled back into her chair, linking her hands behind her back and thinking about Dandelion station. The secrets it held. The shops, people and most importantly, the work.

=================

Deep inside the engine something stuttered. Far below the normal spaces that could be fixed and easily taken care of, something gave up and melted into slag.

The engine did it's best to compensate, so much so that it was just about impossible to tell that there was an issue. A minute drop in power to certain circuits in order to compensate was all. One of the food freezers turned off, among other things. Nothing drastic. ......

===================

TWO DAYS LATER

The ship was working on normal ship running routine now, making a straight line for Dandelion Station. There were no obvious detours that they had to make in order to avoid troubled areas, so it wouldn't take long to get to the space station.

TAGs all.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Tue Jul 13, 2010 10:49 am

Enough of the ship had been repaired that Bug had revolved in his duties and was now going methodically through the ship, room by room, cleaning from the corners. He used a virtually scentless cleaner patented for shipboard use. He seemed quite at ease and fully happy to be at work.

Right up untill he opened the door on number three cold storage.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Quamie » Wed Jul 14, 2010 10:45 am

Ameri sat listening to the others, observing but not interacting- the way she liked. So it was easy for her to see the tension in Addy and how it relaxed when they were away from the Alliance. Tarra made her smile, they way she so easily put the others at ease- even Shoddy, covered in lubricant.

Then all at once, she.... felt something. Something break. Something very small, but very ominous. What was the source? What could she do about it? She froze, hands clutching the seat below her as if the ship might fly apart at an instant. No one would believe her, but she felt as if something had suddenly gone very very wrong.

Over the next two days the feeling plagued her. She couldn't sleep, she ate like an automoton, she seemed uncharacteristically distracted- too distracted to be shy even. It was like she was in another world. Her hands trailed on the walls of the ship wherever she went, and it was rare the times when she wasn't touching some part of the Monarch.

Finally she went to Kynthia. "Something's wrong!" The confession sprung tears to her eyes and she held her breath, trying not to let the panic welling up inside her escape. "Something's wrong with the ship. She's dying!"

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Thu Jul 15, 2010 6:06 pm

It was official: the Monarch had a gremlin on board. Or possibly one of the fae folk, it was hard to tell.

Might have been Oni for all the warriors on board.

Shamus slowly lowered the service panel, humming softly to himself, and then ripped it back open and bit down on the pen light clenched between his teeth. Harsh LED fed illumination filled the wire filled innards of the bridges damage control board, which for the eighth time in the last day and a bit, was ironically damaged. It kept reporting voltage surges through circuits that were either off line or easily measured as well within spec, and had scarred the living gum drops out of Shamus twice by announcing a sudden fusion reactor melt down and the sudden venting of all ship board atmosphere.

As the Monarch had not turned into a smudge of greasy blue light flickering across the heavens, and no one had yet to report feeling the chill of vacuum whilst enjoying their morning coffee, both reports had been false. Thusly it was the damage control board that was busted, and it was a wee little fae trickster or malcontent gremlin that was responsible. That made sense to Shamus, that was logical.

But there was no flicker of unearthly magic, or the pungent scent of brimstone, as granny had taught him to look out for when dealing with the wee folk who did the God’s biddings. He frowned, dogged the panel shut and flicked the buttons to yet again power up the damage control board and see what new disaster awaited the Monarch this morning.

“’Cuse me, Mister Bruehl?” Shamus asked as the computer began to boot back up to full power, attached as it was to the wall behind the pilots station, his mind focused on the task and not the man he’d been ready to bean with Enola the hefty wrench “But would ya mind if I put down some mouse traps round 'bout the bridge? Got me a feeling that it’ll make the Old Lass a bit more willing to do the bidding if ya get me ways of thinking?”

TAG-Grey Bruehl! Time for round two :)

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Thu Jul 15, 2010 10:11 pm

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Sam Crerar » Thu Jul 15, 2010 10:25 pm

Sam was about to go the the bridge to check on Slaveboy, then he heard Grey say "The Captain has the final say of course, but this Bruehl is all for mouse traps." He hesitated briefly. "Sir, if this Bruehl may ask, has anyone suggest a séance?" She cringed slightly. Everyone could feel the change in the Monarch.

"No séances!" Sam snapped, "Gonna jinx us all with talk like that. If the engine dies suddenly, we'll keep enough forward thrust to get to Dandelion Station, assumin' we don't run out of air or freeze to death, but that's only gonna happen if you jinx us!"
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Fri Jul 16, 2010 2:16 am

"Yeah..." Shamus said, shrugging in Sam's direction "...er...what she went'en said. Nah ooky spooky."

Shamus nodded briefly to Sam, frowning as yet again the Monarchs damaged damage control board began its long list of faults, defects, and its party trick, a number of 'Primary Thrust Regime Failures'. He bumped a foot against the panel where it joined the floor, and smiled as the board flickered once and...

"Ahh there we go." Shamus beamed, patting the now less populated screen that reported only minor maintenance issues "See, all she needed was a wee bit of TLC."

But still no sight of that misbegotten gremlin, and no doubt a fae would now be in the pantry somewhere gorging itself on sweet treats and ambrosia. And God help them all if the wee little demon found a gun of all things! But still, at least the major error had been righted: no séances.

A séances, piff! That just sounded crazy.

TAG-Sam.Grey

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Fri Jul 16, 2010 8:46 am

Cleaning day in the kitchen. It was as though everything had become a little more difficult, a little more sluggish, a little more challenging. After all, their morning in the Cargo Bay had gone well; katas done and mats cleaned and rolled up. And it was her day for chores... someone else in the kitchen. Or no one. It made no nevermind to her and she knelt beneath the counter to scrub some of the lube that Shoddy had been spreading like sunshine all over the floor.

There was a smell, like stagnation under there and she opened the refridgeration unit that should have been keeping everything cool, and fresh, and ready for cooking. Crinkling her nose up, she noticed some mold on one of the items in there. Now that wasn't right... Taking out the offending items, she noticed something else. The refridgeration unit should have been colder. And the hum that told her it was running had been strangely silent. Pulling out a few salvageable items, she placed them into a container and then in her makeshift cooler. Space was damned cold indeed, and so was the air lock where she suspended it.

Making a list in her head, she intended on letting either Bug or Shoddy know about that as she continued. Until she reached the secondary filtration unit in the kitchen. It wasn't difficult to clean since she kept it up every other day. But it also seemed to be working sporadically. A cooling unit inside the ship on the fritz could have been an anomaly. However, not the filter. That stood between them and clean water. It wasn't that they weren't getting any; it just didn't seem that something in the works had the gumption to keep it going. Her chores had just taken a back seat as she moved to stand and headed for the Engine Room.

Finding it empty, she curled around the corner and pressed the communicator. Taking a breath, she swallowed calmly and called to the Cockpit. "Mr. Bruehl," Tarra said. "I got a couple of things not working proper in the Kitchen. Found 'em while I was cleaning. Either Bug or Shoddy up there with you?"

~Tag Mr. Bruel / Them people up there... :)

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Fri Jul 16, 2010 10:57 am

Like the aparition of some spirit summoned by mention of his name, Bug darted across the passage not ten feet from Tara, his eyes fixed on something obscured to hers, a cleaning rag in one hand and a roll of duct tape in the other. Seeming to chant under his breath in long strange sylables of mixed chinese and english, but mostly tech. "Now there's where the main flux splits off to the forward life support subsystems, but where is the calibration gaguehead?" came out in fairly understandable isolation among the lower chanting as the boy stopped long enough to pry up a panel. Then he turned as he finally noticed the sound behind him.

~tag Tara

"So that's another one, then. Inevitable, really, but it disturbs that it's happening so fast. Might have to shuttle off at dandylion as the monarch sails past deadstick. Couple trips would do it, dong ma." he rattled off in an unbroken monotone.

Then he looked right into the woman's eyes and smiled, adding, "Not to fret! Got any cookies?"

~tag Tara

Then he went looking for the captain to say it was going to be shortly out of hand. Even he with his limitted knowledge and abilities could feel the acceleration of the demise of the ship. The difference really boiled down to whether they could keep the mains running long enough to stop at the station or, as he had mentioned, jump off there as the Monarch went drifting. It meant either selling the old ship for enough to get another or being station bums till something turned up.
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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Sat Jul 17, 2010 11:11 am

Like she had conjured him herself, Tarra noticed Bug and she almost started. "I was just telling Mr. Bruehl... asking him really, about either you or Shoddy. How odd!" A smile stole across her face and then evaporated as she recalled the reason she needed to speak to an Engineer. "It seems as though we've lost some power to the Kitchen. One unit has given up the ghost, but I'm most concerned about our filter on the sink..."

"So that's another one, then. Inevitable, really, but it disturbs that it's happening so fast. Might have to shuttle off at dandylion as the monarch sails past deadstick. Couple trips would do it, dong ma." he rattled off in an unbroken monotone.

Then he looked right into the woman's eyes and smiled, adding, "Not to fret! Got any cookies?"


Evacuate? Get off The Monarch? "You tell the Captain your theories, Bug?" she asked, a little breathlessly. "And of course I have cookies. I shouldn't fret about having to get off the ship?"

But it seemed that his idea to go tell the Captain over rode everything else. Turning back to the comm, she wasn't sure WHAT to make of it. Was he going to look at things or not? Or should she busying herself packing up her belongings to get off? And where the hell might she go...?

~Tag Anyone

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Sun Jul 18, 2010 3:47 pm

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Sun Jul 18, 2010 6:23 pm

“Ya see,” Shamus began gesturing to the panel not knowing no one was even paying attention “Old tech like this uses binary linkages in its solid state chip sets, pretty snazzy stuff back when my da was in suckling the teat of my gran, but they tend ta get a wee bit sticky with age and use. Good swift kick tends to upset the sediment in the chip sets, breaks’em up, and allow the BL layers to begin to interact properly again, giving us a somewhat corrected view of the ladies ills...”

Apparently Shamus often auditioned for the part of ‘Mr Wizard’ in his off hours. He turned and smiled at Grey.

“And its Shoddy, or Shamus. Mr McDonald, well that’s either me Da or my brother Remas, and I don’t think I got the smarts to run a sky mine of all things. I can tell ya the idiots guide to fusion but business one-oh-one is a bit beyond my kin, ya know?” He shrugged "But those are better than some of the names ya hear being hollered after a Scottish Rock Rat, but I be digressing.”

He clicked his fingers, apparently his way of telling the world and those close to him he was having a revelation, or just had rhythm.

“Reminds me, er...Sam I been meaning ta ask, well...when we get to Dadelion, well there’s this enclave there of Scots from the outer halo, real good spare part traders from what I hear, McLoeds mostly but solid Scot's one and all. I was thinkin’ maybe I could trade for some spares. Ya know...ceramic insulators, inducer panels...”

He took in a breath and said the next word very quickly.

“Chocolatecoveredrasins. And a new damage control board, ya know, one that works.”

TAG-All

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Tavey » Mon Jul 19, 2010 8:31 pm

It was around then that everything failed.

Badly.

The engine groaned and shuddered as some of it's secondary power couplings failed completely. The thrusters blasted on, knocking them off course. Navigation failed.

The Monarch went dark. Suddenly.


Kynthia scrambled for the nearest wall and felt her way along until she could find a cupboard, hoping to find a flashlight. She swore loudly at every god who'd ever existed.

"Everyone keep calm and safe." She yelled right as she jammed her fingers against something sharp. "Monarch is holdin' her own. We ain't venting gas. Long as we ain't venting we're safe."

She stopped and took a very deep breath. "SHODDDYY! BUG!! REport!" She bellowed, hoping they could hear her wherever they were on the ship.

TAG

The Monarch's thrusters continued to fire, sending them off course badly. She spun out into The Black.

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Jake Sjet » Tue Jul 20, 2010 6:14 pm

Shamus’s pen light was bright, almost to the point of blinding, but it lit his way as he made his mad dash from the bridge back to engineering. And all the while he couldn’t help but think, if he’d just stayed put, and tended the Monarchs tea kettles like a good mech should...they’d have been okay.

This was his fault.

As he raced through the galley he saw a glow of light from the sky light, the steady electric blue hue of a fusion flame burning in the starry night. That was good, and that was bad. Good because it meant the problem was not in the inaccessible plumbing of the ship’s radioactively hot fusion core, but somewhere between where the controls ended and the rocket motors began.

And it was bad, because now the fusion process was outside of human control, and the Monarchs engines were gulping down more and more reaction mass to fuel itself. The tanks were large, and in an emergency they could siphon off some of the ships running water to feed the reactor on a diet of cracked H2O. But without some way of guiding the process, of tempering the beast of uncontrolled nuclear reaction, they were just along for the ride.

Not good when hitting anything at this speed would be as close to a quick death as anyone could get, not to mention the whole lost in space angle.

He reached the engine room and pulled the heavy pressure hatch open with one hand. The scent of burning metal assaulted his nose, and a thick fog of smoke clung to the ceiling and coiled out from beneath the madly spinning drive core. He didn’t see flames, which was good, and there was gravity, which was good. Flames in zero gee were no fun, and brought with them to many bad dreams.

“Okay...work the problem. Solve the problem.” He gulped down a lungful of clean air from outside, pulling the neck of his coveralls up and over his mouth, and stooped under the worst of the cloud of burning insulator casing and solder. The pen lights bright circle of snow white clarity played across the interior of the room, making shadows dance and flicker here and there.

His eyes stung and tears ran down his face, as he knelt down and looked to the source of most of the haze. He couldn’t see a lot of where the noxious fumes were coming from, but he could see enough of one arm thick wire. The wire was one of the Monarchs smaller power couplings, the secondary set if he had to guess, and judging from the amount of bare wire and melted inch thick insulator he had a thought as to what had happened.

Something had just removed the word ‘super’ from the term super conductor, of which the power coupling was made of, just before it had ceased to be. God only knew what other wreckage had been strewn throughout the bowels of the Monarchs drive assembly. But in space there were only two types of accidents: ones where you die instantly, or ones where you will die eventually but only after having a nice cup of tea and a biscuit.

This was jammy dodger time.

He nodded, coughing again and staggered from the engine room and dogged the hatch closed, and gave into a heft hit of lung clearing coughs as the burning plastic irritants were expelled.

“Bug! Anyone!” he coughed, racking his lungs over hot coals and regretting not finding a breathing mask or some such “Find the cap’n, tell her we’re flying two ships: one with a pilot and one with an engine, but never the two shall meet.”

He kept on coughing.

TAG-Bug, galley folks.

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

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Grey Bruehl » Tue Jul 20, 2010 8:44 pm

Grey Bruehl listened politely as Shamus spoke. Not once in any way did he indicate a disbelieve in what Shamus was saying.

That was not to say that Bruehl believed any of it for a minute. Instead he got the distinct impression that he was observing an industrial waste facility full of livestock excrement.

Bruehl actually considered looking for a shovel just before the lights went out and the bridge was pitched into total darkness of the blackest kind.

There was a pause of several minutes. It might be said the ship had never run so well or so quietly. The tranquility was momentarily interrupted by the sound of the Captain's urgent take-command voice shouting in the dark.

A small pause of silence before the click as the intercom activated.

"Hello Folks, this is your Pilot speaking. You might have noticed the lack of lighting in some parts of the ship. (Absolutely going to hell for lying.) We've had several calls to the bridge. I want to assure you that our competent engineering crew is on top of the situation. We apologize for any brief inconvenience. (So much for karma in the next life)

We remind everyone who may be experiencing a brief period of flickering lighting (or in absolute darkness) to remain calm and take a moment to refresh yourselves with the location of the nearest emergency exits to the nearest shuttle hatch.

Once power is restored to your area (not a hair lips chance in hell) you are welcome to join the crew and other passengers in the galley. (Prayer rugs and rosaries beads are not included as part of the complimentary in-flight features).

Again we hope to have the ship back on course, (oh did I forget to mention that. My bad) and lights on shortly. Thank you for flying the Monarch."

Grey Bruehl placed the mic in it's proper location. After all it was part of standard training for pilot to fly without instrumentation of any kind. And in the dark. So he did not panic. What was the use.

But Grey Bruehl did have two things on his mind and one of them was séances.

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby KendleRJ » Tue Jul 20, 2010 10:04 pm

Boom, boom. Out go the lights.

The briefest of moments, and she closed her eyes, going over her necessities in her head and the location of each one. Quick calculations on where each item was and how long it might take to pack as her mode of survival kicked in.

First item she touched was a symbol of where her mind went immediately. Then placed it on top of the things that snapped together. Pots on walls fit easily one into the other. Knives came out in their containers and slipped snugly into the top saucepan. She had already finished that process before she was aware of the faint emergency lighting (aka glow tape) on the floor of The Monarch which gave everything an eerie glow.

And despite the fact of her NOT asking if things could get worse, there was an acrid smelling smoke now pouring out from the engine room. So instead of doing anything more in the kitchen, she moved out toward her bunk, away from the pall and toward fresher air. Fresher for the moment, anyway, thanks to her plants.

Packing seemed so much more reasonable than running around like an idiot or adding to the tension. After all, she was a chef. And it was time for Bug and Shoddy to do things, and Bug had already mentioned the possibility of having to vacate the premises despite there being no other premises sorta being around... So, now she was in vacating mode. And there was a lot to vacate. That food carton from Titan... It came with her as she curled the bowl under her arm and piled everything else on top of the rolly, then moved quickly to her bunk.

Following the line of faint lighting, she quickly packed her clothes bag, and her garden bunks. This lighting would do little for the plants... being green and all. She cleared her mind and took a breath.

Nothing in her head, just a prayer, and then, almost like an answer to it, she heard a calm, clear voice over the intercom. Picking it up, she squeezed the bowl a little tighter. Seemed he was calling for everyone to head back to the kitchen. But she would have business elsewhere on the ship. With everything she owned and was beholden to look after...

~Tag them as is in the dark...

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Re: A Spark of Light.

Postby Galifestus » Tue Jul 20, 2010 11:11 pm

Sure, he could have stayed on Silence, where the most exciting thing to happen was the change in work schedule as the year progressed through its mild seasons, but he wanted adventure.

Bug was up to his eyeballs in adventure.

In pitch darkeness, he felt around him for the light stick he had dropped. He heard Shoddy somewhere shouting at him to go find the captain and reveal the obvious truth. Well, it was something to do. He finally found the plastic cylinder and snapped the glass inside, and a gentle yellow green glow began to fill the darkness around him. He was in one of the many small spaces in the cargo bay, having been there when the fun happened, looking to trace the conduit that powered the inoperative food coolers.

Out he scrambled coming into the cargo hold on all fours, then looking around. Out the windows fo the main ramp, he saw stars stream past in changing directions. His engineer talent told him the simple truth, they were no longer headed anywhere in particular.

Bug ran to find Captain Talland. When he did, he blurted out a long series of pseudotechnical jargon and then sumarized, leaning very close to her, and up on his tiptoes, in a whisper. "In a word, Captain, humped."

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