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Thread: |M| {Stellar by Starlight} |1x1| Alura x J'Von |

  1. #11
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    With her hands still folded behind her back, Daisy regarded the abstract holopainting afixed to one wall of the office. It was the same image one might find in a thousand offices like it on Earth and in ships alike. Squinting her eyes along the lines, the captain corrected herself. Perhaps one of the benefits of the Confederacy was its support of independent spirits. That extended to artists and, she thought, maybe this starliner boasted things like this a shade more refined than the copious prints that were mirrored on similar screens in places like the Academies.

    The screen made a soft tone, indicating that the security expert had an incoming call. It would have been polite to excuse herself, but for no reason in particular Daisy decided she was not finished with their conversation. Ignoring the tone, she strolled along the wall and replied.

    "I see. They really have pulled out all the stop to make Stellar's mission a success, haven't they? Intelligence operatives with combat experience rarely run commercial from what little I've gathered about it. I wonder what Cork offered to make it worth it to you...?" She let the question trail into the air, not particularly caring if the woman chose not to answer it.

    She read in the hung head the same feeling she herself knew well: displaced aboard a ship this large, in a role that was not as exciting as she might have hoped. Folding her arms, she dropped a hip onto the edge of the woman's desk, picking up a stylus and twirling it through her fingers absently.

    "Did you bring your own team with you, or is that new to you also?"

    Half of Daisy's attention remained in the conversation, curious to know more about the woman. The other half of her mind was turning over what she had already said. Delphi-XIII should be a relatively peaceful stop, unless one counted aggressive acts of celebration as a crime. Her mouth quirked up again in a half-smirk, but she cleared her throat and schooled her face. "Let's hope the natives are not too restless, then. I'd hate to die before settling my accounts."

    She ran her eyes over the desk, taking in any details she could about the woman who sat behind it. Security was everywhere, and while it might seem like there was little use to them, a spare set of hands or someone willing to visit the less attractive engineering spaces of the ship during an emergency could always come in handy.

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  2. #12
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    The sound of hard press cold steel shook around her. She wore her combat uniform armor with a light helmet with a eye visor attached. She carried a energy pulse rifle with both hands. She looked at her weapon while sitting down on a bench with a few other soldiers. She looked at each of them as they talked and laughed while music was blaring in the background. She heard a thump or two from the metal wall around her. Figured it was enemy fire shooting at them.

    "All vehicles halt! Enemy target distance three hundred feet. Gunners short burst rounds, suppressive fire!"

    The Gunner in her vehicle started firing with the large caliber machine gun turret. The machine gun outside of the vehicle was muffled but still loud for her to hear. Then she heard her name being called. "When is it our turn?!" Cpl. Stone said waiting impatiently.

    "Easy there soldier. Your smart enough to get through the tests, don't be dumb to get killed." She replied with a smile. She heard the radio call on her head set and gives a nod. "Guess it's our time boys. Weapon safety off and at the ready." She yelled. Checking her safety and kept a grip on her rifle, she looked at the rear end of the vehicle and sees the ramp opening.

    She looked at the Captain after hearing her questions. She smiled slightly. "I had a total of forty seven missions and had forty seven successful missions. I've only lost sixteen good men.....and one squad on one successful mission." She leans back in her seat with her chin on her hand. "I was sent on a mission to hold off a large pirate force that somehow shot down one of our supply ships. The Captain of that ship was a moron so I took command and ordered his men to gather up arms and be ready to defend themselves. My squad was the only group close and we defended that ship for nine hours....nine long hours. I survived with only an hour left before reinforcements had shown up." She cleared her throat. "With zero civilian casualty."

  3. #13
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    So, you've lost more than a third as many men as you've had missions. I suppose, as they say, 'two out of three ain't bad'... Assuming you're not part of the dead third. With a smug lift of her brow, Morant eased herself off the edge of the desk, still twirling the stylus in her fingertips. She kept her thoughts to herself for once despite her expression. The XO had lectured her about being nice to the rest of the crew enough to sink in... at least a little.

    The Confederacy was ragtag enough that a mixture of fighters and civs was common, no need to ask why they had been present. She was curious, though, "What was the cargo you were defending for nine hours?"

    Flipping the stylus into the air, she caught it again and continued to weave it through her fingers. She had found few worlds she cared to spend much time in, though she prefered that to the crowded Gaia ships that were the cornerstone of human colonisation. Flying cities, they were sluggish and housed a strange assortment of technological advancement and aging systems and processes required to keep their populations alive and trained well enough for future generations to settle on their destination worlds. Some worlds were less lucky, springing up from capsules before the Gaias were even a set of blueprints and a heap of parts in aerial dock. That was Delphi X... Her mind flitted to the hub of innovation that planet had become from meagre roots. She supposed the security officer might actually be awake for that. Delphi XIII might be calm, but... Well, it would be interesting to see.

    "Earth-born? Spend much time in any of the colonies?"

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

  4. #14
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    She thought for a moment before saying her answer. She remembered every part of that mission. Who died first and how. One of them was shot in the neck and lasted only several minutes before finally passing on. When the reinforcements arrived and drove off the remaining pirates. She was called a Hero. To her that was a empty title.

    She leans back in her chair and sighs softly. "Believe it or not it was mostly furniture." She answered. "Built modern and highly expensive furniture. They were meant to be transported to corporate business. Someone wanted their custom built made mahogany table."

    She gets up and slowly walks around the table and stood in front of the Captain. She examined her uniform from head to toe and noticed something was a bit odd. She reached up and gives a small tug on the neck collar. "And as our captain you should really take care of your uniform. First impression is usually the first priority."

    She takes a step back and walked over to where a large cabinet file filled with empty folders and organized small boxes. "Looks like I'm gonna have to start getting busy with the small details." She mumbled. "I want to take a look around the ship. I wanna know where the exists and emergency air locks are located. If we run into anything out here, at least we'll be prepared." She walked over to the other side of the room and pressed her hand on the weapon lock scanner. The door opened and it was empty as well. "Hmm...no weapons?" She asked with her head looking at the Captain.

  5. #15
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    Morant gave a silent humph of amusement, nodding. It was fitting, really, both because of the nature of the Confederacy's common jobs and missions and the irony of costly life given up for costly furniture. She supposed depending on where they had been it might have cost the buyers more than a lifetime of caring for a human to purchase... Strange that even far removed from homeworld some of the worst qualities of people still carried forward. The Confederacy was about opportunity and grit - and it profited and took care of its own with the funds that came in from exploiting more rigid systems.

    She admired the adherence to duty, but not being one particularly interested in the letter of the law she was unsure how that might have gone if she had been in the other officer's shoes. Letting out a low whistle, she rocked back on her heels, the stylus never stopping its twirl.

    "Real mahogany, eh? Must've been some windfall."

    Morant's grin grew the longer the woman surveyed her, not at all offput by the close-up once over or the woman's fingers adjusting her collar. She nagged just like the XO. Maybe that meant she was destined for promotion.

    "First impressions can be deceptive. Besides, I may rate Captain, but I'll be your humble navvie on this run." She watched as the security officer moved about efficiently, shrugging at the empty weapons locker. "Don't look at me. That'll be the weapons officer you'll want to make that face at... I can help with the tour, though..."

    Stepping through the threshold and tucking the stylus behind one ear, she looked back impatiently. "Well? Step lively, Sergeant Sky, we have first impressions to make." Smirking she strode out into the hall on a course towards the nearest engineering hub, voice already lifting to shout for the attention of the poor beleaguered engineer she had been speaking with before the conversation with Jesse.

    Spoiler: Completely Unsolicited, Contextual Praise Definitely not Acquired via Torture 

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