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In The Black - Aboard Adventure Galley - Sarah McFarlen - 06-14-2015
ITV Adventure Galley
![[Image: PXK02wt.png]](http://i.imgur.com/PXK02wt.png)
One of hundreds of freelance transports roaming the tradelanes and the stars beyond them in search of a profit, the Adventure Galley is an unremarkable second-generation Serenity-class medium hauler. Registered in Liberty and captained by one Leslie Durant, the ship is notable on files only by the meagre crew under whose careful hands and caffeine-fueled minds she flies.
Internally; however, the ship is festooned with a handful of personal effects and keepsakes that mark it as something more than another steel and iron cell in the endless parade of commerce that rumbles along the jump network. A handful of old-style paperbacks lie scattered about the ship in defiance of modern datapads and a watercolour painting of a bear atop a raging stream – work of a little-known Kusari artist – hangs in pride of place in the crew walkway.
Only two of the ship's six crew cabins are occupied, one labelled 'Leslie Durant' in bold copperplate, and the second wearing a facsimile of an Rheinland ID card. Someone had crossed out the original name and scrawled 'Sparks' above it in black marker. Adventure Galley's remaining four cabins serve as little more than glorified storage areas, packed with items too fragile or too personal to risk to the rigours of the cargo bay.
Internally; however, the ship is festooned with a handful of personal effects and keepsakes that mark it as something more than another steel and iron cell in the endless parade of commerce that rumbles along the jump network. A handful of old-style paperbacks lie scattered about the ship in defiance of modern datapads and a watercolour painting of a bear atop a raging stream – work of a little-known Kusari artist – hangs in pride of place in the crew walkway.
Only two of the ship's six crew cabins are occupied, one labelled 'Leslie Durant' in bold copperplate, and the second wearing a facsimile of an Rheinland ID card. Someone had crossed out the original name and scrawled 'Sparks' above it in black marker. Adventure Galley's remaining four cabins serve as little more than glorified storage areas, packed with items too fragile or too personal to risk to the rigours of the cargo bay.
Adventure Galley is operated by a skeleton crew of two:
• Leslie Durant - Captain & Pilot
• Sarah 'Sparks' McFarlen - Engineer
• Sarah 'Sparks' McFarlen - Engineer
Serenity-Class Medium Transport
| Speed: | 3 | AC: | 6 |
| Armor: | 4 | Power: | 10 / 5 Free |
| Hit Points: | 20 | Mass: | 15 / 0 Free |
| Crew (min/max): | 1 / 6 | Hardpoints: | 2 / 1 Free |
| Base Hull: | Free Merchant | ||
| Fittings: | – Extended Stores x 4 | ||
| – Fuel Bunker x 4 | |||
| – 40 tonnes of cargo space | |||
| Weapons: | – Dulzian Array (Screening Lasers) |
![[+]](/forums/images/collapse_collapsed.png "[+]")
Maintenance ScheduleTimetable
| Date | Location | Thread(s) |
| 7th June 822 | Heisenberg Research Station, Koeln | Nostalgia for Infinity |
| 8th June 822 | Travel: Stuttgart, Rheinland | In The Black |
| Classifieds | ||
| 12th June 822 | Arrive: Planet Cambridge, Cambridge | - |
| 14th June 822 | Planet Cambridge, Cambridge | Stars Unending |
| 16th June 822 | Canary Wharf Station, New London | The Bottom Line |
| 17th June 822 | Planet Cambridge, Cambridge | In The Black |
| 21st June 822 | Travelling: Tau-31, Border Worlds | In The Black |
| To: Lisa Jaeger | ||
| 23rd June 822 | Arrive: Battleship Nagasaki, Tau-29 | - |
| 30th June 822 | Arrive: Barrier Gate Station, Coronado | Dubious Company |
| 1st July 822 | Barrier Gate Station, Coronado | To: James Arland |
| 5th July 822 | Interplanetary Space, Coronado | Derelict |
RE: In The Black - Aboard Adventure Galley - Sarah McFarlen - 06-14-2015
8th June 822 – Stuttgart System, Rheinland
Sparks - No, Sarah again, now - woke up to an unfamiliar ceiling and the screech of her terminal. She floundered at the bunk straps like it had bitten her, wrapped the pillow around her hand and threw it across the tiny room towards the point of light that had to be the screaming datapad. It floated like some monster of the deep in the microgravity for a moment before it struck the datapad with a hollow thud and drifted towards the ceiling.
Just to spite her, the terminal kept bleating.
“Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Don’t get all worked up.” Sarah groaned, struggled free of a particularly clingy sheet and pushed her way across the room like a swimmer pushing off the blocks. A drugged and exhausted swimmer, perhaps, but a swimmer. Finally, mercifully, the terminal slipped into her fumbling hand and she silenced the machine with a swipe of her hand. She gave the screen a cursory glance, tapped the flashing message indicator and struggled to stifle a laugh. Oh, Leslie was going to love this. Only then, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, did Sarah pause to take in her surroundings.
Save for the pale ring of light seeping around the room’s one door and the glow of her manic terminal, the room was pitch black. There were no windows, no screens on the walls broadcasting happy fantasies of a life in the country, nothing between her and the businesslike plastic grip on the metal floor except for empty air. Sarah floated nonchalantly halfway up the wall, a single bunk behind her and a footlocker strapped into place at its base. Bit by bit, the events of the previous day waddled their way into her brain as she shook the remnants of the night’s sleep from it.
She wasn’t aboard Heisenberg. The fact she could sit up without smashing her head into the top of her waist-high coffin bed was evidence enough of that. Thank heavens for that. She’d developed an impressive bruise over the course of a few weeks on-station, concealed beneath her untidy mop of auburn air. No. She’d signed up. She was an engineer now, on an honest-to-God legal freelance boat, drifting somewhere between Stuttgart and the Omegas. Sarah flashed a grin in the dark. The knowledge was more invigorating than a hundred winter swims.
Sarah pulled her hair away from her eyes and ran a hand along the wall, found a dial, and twisted it until the strip lighting in the ceiling glowed a dull yellow. She could have just adjusted it from her terminal but, after the rude wake-up, she wasn’t sure they were on speaking terms just yet. Instead, she tugged her cargo pants and long-sleeve shirt from the footlocker, pulled her battered green flight suit over both and floated out into the hallway.
Adventure Galley’s bridge was dark this early in the ship’s day, lit only by the dull red glow of the emergency lighting. Sarah drifted along the silent corridors and past empty crew compartments like a bedraggled wraith, glowing datapad throwing crazy shadows on the walls. She found Leslie slumped in the pilot’s chair, straps securing her to the cushions, auburn hair floating about her head like a halo. On the screen in front of her, the serenity’s course pulsed a dull blue. Sarah jetted over to the coffee machine secured in the bridge corner, a small surrender to luxury on the otherwise bare ship, and put together a bulb for the Galley’s sleeping captain, and one for herself.
“Morning skipper.” Sarah settled down in the second chair on the bridge,strapped in and powered up her instruments, and set the coffee drifting towards Leslie. “You’ll never guess who’s sending me comms.”
Leslie started awake, glancing around quickly in surprise and relaxing after seeing it was just Sarah. She patted her hair, a futile exercise considering the gravity situation, and gave her a tired smile.
“Morning, You caught me napping I guess,” She said, grabbing hold of the bulb sent her way. “Thanks.”
She glanced in Sarah’s direction, her curiosity piqued but muffled due to not being fully awake. “What is it?”
Sarah just grinned, undid the harness securing her datapad to her wrist, and offered the pad to Leslie. “Have a look at this. Not bad for a first day, huh?”
Leslie started reading, and as she read her eyebrows climbed higher and higher into her forehead, straining to break free. After a minute, she grinned and tossed the datapad back at Sarah. “Looks like I recruited you just in time. The big boys want to hire you now, huh?” She punched Sarah in the arm,a light blow. “You run in high circles indeed, O mighty Engineer.”
Sarah rubbed at her shoulder, moaned in mock-pain.
“Hey, careful. I’m a valuable commodity now, apparently.” She lazily reached out of her chair to grab the datapad as it floated past. “It’d be nice if they spoke up a while back. I could’ve done with a clean bedroom and a nice uniform instead of drifting.” Her smile said otherwise. “I’m thinking it could be worth looking into. I mean, they bothered to send the comm, they’re obviously interested. Could be some work there.”
Leslie stopped smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to join their ranks? It’s a pretty hefty offer for anyone, and I won’t hold it against you if you do.” She said.
“Not a chance.” Sarah turned the datapad over in her hand, dimming the screen to a dull lantern glow. “Seriously, I feel like I just got out of that rat race. I’m not about to throw myself back in for any money, no matter how nicely they type the invitation.”
Sarah paused, glanced nervously towards the back of the bridge. “Unless you’re about to run out of coffee. You’re not about to run out of coffee, are you?”
Leslie snorted. “The day I retire, maybe. Some businesses run on parties, I run mine on Coffee. My way is probably more economical.”
“Give me a week. You haven’t seen the rate I go through beans.” Sparks tapped the screen, cycling an engine readout. “I’m thinking that it’s probably worth dropping them something, though. We might be able to snag some contract work. I’m not in any hurry to work for them, but hey, it’s not like Bowex have shallow wallets.”
Leslie gave that suggestion some thought, looking out into space. After a few moments, she looked back and nodded briefly. “Back in grad school, Bowex was nicknamed the Grandma company. Wanna know why?”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t because they liked to hand out fresh-baked cookies and reminisce about the good old days?” Sarah cocked an eyebrow.
Leslie laughed at the mental image. “Not really, although the latter is true now. It’s a reference to the fact that they’re government owned, so their work ethic is a bit more...relaxed than the borderline slavery going on the big three. Liberty’s bigwigs look at them askance and ask under their breaths if that’s any way to run a business.”
She spotted something on her display and made a quick correction with a button push. “What that means for us is that there’s only a small chance they’ll screw us over, so I say go for it. Inform them of your situation and make sure to mention you have a plus one,” She pointed at herself.
“Sure. I could do with a minimal chance of being screwed over.” Sarah grinned, emptied the last dregs of coffee from her bulb and settled it down beside her, the last remnants of exhaustion slipping away as the caffeine drifted into her blood. “It’s got to beat working in Liberty. Doesn’t quite feel right without someone trying to get the one-up on you, though. I’ll shoot them a note after breakfast, see if I can line up a meeting once we get in. See if I can get us a ride, too. I mean, I like the Galley, but if they’re offering to burn the fuel to get us there…”
Leslie merely pointed an imperious finger at Sarah. “Get it done, Engineer,” She said, her tone trying but not quite matching the authority she was looking for.
“Yes ma’am.” Sarah raised a hand to her forehead in mock salute. The effect was only slightly spoiled by the empty bulb clutched in her hand. “Right after breakfast.”
Sarah unbuckled, pushed the terminal aside and floated up from the chair. “I’m just heading down to take a quick look at the number three. Exhaust velocity's a little high. We're compensating for it, easy, but if I’m not back in half an hour send a rescue party.”
Leslie had already fallen asleep again, but she smiled with her eyes still closed and raised a thumb up. “I’ll be up in twenty when the coffee hits”, She murmured, leaning back in her chair again.
Just to spite her, the terminal kept bleating.
“Okay. Okay. I’m coming. Don’t get all worked up.” Sarah groaned, struggled free of a particularly clingy sheet and pushed her way across the room like a swimmer pushing off the blocks. A drugged and exhausted swimmer, perhaps, but a swimmer. Finally, mercifully, the terminal slipped into her fumbling hand and she silenced the machine with a swipe of her hand. She gave the screen a cursory glance, tapped the flashing message indicator and struggled to stifle a laugh. Oh, Leslie was going to love this. Only then, as she rubbed the sleep from her eyes, did Sarah pause to take in her surroundings.
Save for the pale ring of light seeping around the room’s one door and the glow of her manic terminal, the room was pitch black. There were no windows, no screens on the walls broadcasting happy fantasies of a life in the country, nothing between her and the businesslike plastic grip on the metal floor except for empty air. Sarah floated nonchalantly halfway up the wall, a single bunk behind her and a footlocker strapped into place at its base. Bit by bit, the events of the previous day waddled their way into her brain as she shook the remnants of the night’s sleep from it.
She wasn’t aboard Heisenberg. The fact she could sit up without smashing her head into the top of her waist-high coffin bed was evidence enough of that. Thank heavens for that. She’d developed an impressive bruise over the course of a few weeks on-station, concealed beneath her untidy mop of auburn air. No. She’d signed up. She was an engineer now, on an honest-to-God legal freelance boat, drifting somewhere between Stuttgart and the Omegas. Sarah flashed a grin in the dark. The knowledge was more invigorating than a hundred winter swims.
Sarah pulled her hair away from her eyes and ran a hand along the wall, found a dial, and twisted it until the strip lighting in the ceiling glowed a dull yellow. She could have just adjusted it from her terminal but, after the rude wake-up, she wasn’t sure they were on speaking terms just yet. Instead, she tugged her cargo pants and long-sleeve shirt from the footlocker, pulled her battered green flight suit over both and floated out into the hallway.
Adventure Galley’s bridge was dark this early in the ship’s day, lit only by the dull red glow of the emergency lighting. Sarah drifted along the silent corridors and past empty crew compartments like a bedraggled wraith, glowing datapad throwing crazy shadows on the walls. She found Leslie slumped in the pilot’s chair, straps securing her to the cushions, auburn hair floating about her head like a halo. On the screen in front of her, the serenity’s course pulsed a dull blue. Sarah jetted over to the coffee machine secured in the bridge corner, a small surrender to luxury on the otherwise bare ship, and put together a bulb for the Galley’s sleeping captain, and one for herself.
“Morning skipper.” Sarah settled down in the second chair on the bridge,strapped in and powered up her instruments, and set the coffee drifting towards Leslie. “You’ll never guess who’s sending me comms.”
Leslie started awake, glancing around quickly in surprise and relaxing after seeing it was just Sarah. She patted her hair, a futile exercise considering the gravity situation, and gave her a tired smile.
“Morning, You caught me napping I guess,” She said, grabbing hold of the bulb sent her way. “Thanks.”
She glanced in Sarah’s direction, her curiosity piqued but muffled due to not being fully awake. “What is it?”
Sarah just grinned, undid the harness securing her datapad to her wrist, and offered the pad to Leslie. “Have a look at this. Not bad for a first day, huh?”
Leslie started reading, and as she read her eyebrows climbed higher and higher into her forehead, straining to break free. After a minute, she grinned and tossed the datapad back at Sarah. “Looks like I recruited you just in time. The big boys want to hire you now, huh?” She punched Sarah in the arm,a light blow. “You run in high circles indeed, O mighty Engineer.”
Sarah rubbed at her shoulder, moaned in mock-pain.
“Hey, careful. I’m a valuable commodity now, apparently.” She lazily reached out of her chair to grab the datapad as it floated past. “It’d be nice if they spoke up a while back. I could’ve done with a clean bedroom and a nice uniform instead of drifting.” Her smile said otherwise. “I’m thinking it could be worth looking into. I mean, they bothered to send the comm, they’re obviously interested. Could be some work there.”
Leslie stopped smiling. “Are you sure you don’t want to join their ranks? It’s a pretty hefty offer for anyone, and I won’t hold it against you if you do.” She said.
“Not a chance.” Sarah turned the datapad over in her hand, dimming the screen to a dull lantern glow. “Seriously, I feel like I just got out of that rat race. I’m not about to throw myself back in for any money, no matter how nicely they type the invitation.”
Sarah paused, glanced nervously towards the back of the bridge. “Unless you’re about to run out of coffee. You’re not about to run out of coffee, are you?”
Leslie snorted. “The day I retire, maybe. Some businesses run on parties, I run mine on Coffee. My way is probably more economical.”
“Give me a week. You haven’t seen the rate I go through beans.” Sparks tapped the screen, cycling an engine readout. “I’m thinking that it’s probably worth dropping them something, though. We might be able to snag some contract work. I’m not in any hurry to work for them, but hey, it’s not like Bowex have shallow wallets.”
Leslie gave that suggestion some thought, looking out into space. After a few moments, she looked back and nodded briefly. “Back in grad school, Bowex was nicknamed the Grandma company. Wanna know why?”
“I’m guessing it wasn’t because they liked to hand out fresh-baked cookies and reminisce about the good old days?” Sarah cocked an eyebrow.
Leslie laughed at the mental image. “Not really, although the latter is true now. It’s a reference to the fact that they’re government owned, so their work ethic is a bit more...relaxed than the borderline slavery going on the big three. Liberty’s bigwigs look at them askance and ask under their breaths if that’s any way to run a business.”
She spotted something on her display and made a quick correction with a button push. “What that means for us is that there’s only a small chance they’ll screw us over, so I say go for it. Inform them of your situation and make sure to mention you have a plus one,” She pointed at herself.
“Sure. I could do with a minimal chance of being screwed over.” Sarah grinned, emptied the last dregs of coffee from her bulb and settled it down beside her, the last remnants of exhaustion slipping away as the caffeine drifted into her blood. “It’s got to beat working in Liberty. Doesn’t quite feel right without someone trying to get the one-up on you, though. I’ll shoot them a note after breakfast, see if I can line up a meeting once we get in. See if I can get us a ride, too. I mean, I like the Galley, but if they’re offering to burn the fuel to get us there…”
Leslie merely pointed an imperious finger at Sarah. “Get it done, Engineer,” She said, her tone trying but not quite matching the authority she was looking for.
“Yes ma’am.” Sarah raised a hand to her forehead in mock salute. The effect was only slightly spoiled by the empty bulb clutched in her hand. “Right after breakfast.”
Sarah unbuckled, pushed the terminal aside and floated up from the chair. “I’m just heading down to take a quick look at the number three. Exhaust velocity's a little high. We're compensating for it, easy, but if I’m not back in half an hour send a rescue party.”
Leslie had already fallen asleep again, but she smiled with her eyes still closed and raised a thumb up. “I’ll be up in twenty when the coffee hits”, She murmured, leaning back in her chair again.
RE: In The Black - Aboard Adventure Galley - Sarah McFarlen - 06-17-2015
17th June 822 – Cambridge System, Bretonia
“I hate you.
I mean, people have started wars-” Sarah gasped, swallowed a mouthful of air, and staggered forward another pace. God. Her legs felt like she’d run over them with a steamroller and put the pulpy remnants in a microwave for half an hour. Her lungs weren’t feeling so much better. “And wiped out. Cities. And salted the earth. Twice.” She puffed, forced herself to keep moving. “But really. That’s peanuts compared. To how much. I hate you right now.”
Underneath her, the treadmill hummed like a satanic nun. Straps secured the harness wrapped around her torso to the body of the treadmill in a crude approximation of gravity, preventing her from smashing into the Galley’s bulkhead. Which, at the moment, was starting to look like an attractive option if it meant that she got to stop running. Sarah gasped out another breath, heart jackhammering in her chest. Sweat beaded on her face, her hair, between her shoulders and the jumping straps. There was no chafe quite like zero-G chafe.
A short distance from her, Leslie was stretching out her limbs, humming to herself wordlessly. She was trying to remember all the basics the Kokutai had taught her. Tried to, at least. The shrill voice of their drill instructor, a short unassuming man by the name of Shinji still echoed in her head. ”Pay attention to all your limbs, Gaijin! All your muscles need to be worked before you can begin!”
She’d changed into appropriate attire for the situation, at least. An old black T-shirt with the Brabant logo and symbol on them and matching shorts. Sparing a glance in Sarah’s direction, where the Engineer was grumbling away while working out in the same clothes she had joined the ship with, Leslie smiled beatifically.
“You seem to be enjoying it.”
Sarah grunted, too busy not falling off the treadmill for a more coherent response. After a few more agonising moments, she slapped the ‘stop’ switch like a drowning woman presented with a glass of water. Torturously slowly, the machine slowed to a walk. Between the two of them the Galley barely had enough hands to qualify as a skeleton crew. All the extra space came with dubious upsides, and the pair had converted one of the empty crew quarters into a low-tech gym. When enough air seeped back into her lungs for speech, she shot Leslie a glance.
“You know, I don’t recall physical torture being included in the job offer.” Sarah pulled in another breath. The air was dry, pumped through the recycling systems more times than she could count, but right then it tasted as sweet as a spring breeze. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d actually welcome not being able to feel anything below my waist right about now.”
Leslie did not respond immediately, concentrating on the basic motions Shinji had tried to teach her. Those would form the basis of any style she wanted to learn in the future, he’d said. She’d been slacking off on this, but after bullying Sarah into a fitness regimen, it’d be hypocritical for her not to join. She kept her motions slow and balanced, anything too energetic would have negative consequences in low-gravity. After doing a brief split, she got up and patted Sarah on her shoulder.
“It’ll be fine. We both need to keep to a regimen of some sort if we’re to keep our muscles in good condition.” She spared Sarah a brief glare. “You of all people should know this.”
“I know, I know. I think I can remember why I stopped in the first place now.” Sarah yielded a pained grin as the treadmill finally rocked to a stop. She rubbed at sweat-stained leg and gingerly started unclipping the straps from the harness. “What are you doing down there? I didn’t know you practised yoga.”
Leslie shook her head, trying to send her left leg directly up in the air. She put too much force in the motion, and span out of control. “Ah shi-” Her cry was cut short as her head hit the floor once. She grabbed a nearby strap for balance and rubbed her head. “That didn’t go according to plan, did it?”
Sarah grinned, all innocence.
Leslie pulled herself up by a strap, floating upright once more. “I guess that calls for a break.” She sniffed the air dubiously. “You should get some gym clothes, you’re gonna smell for a while.”
“Thanks for the support. Nice to know that someone cares.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. Cargo pants and a t-shirt had many uses, but she was starting to suspect that gymwear was not one of them. The long streaks of sweat down the back of her trousers seemed to agree. “I’ll find something next time we pull in, I guess. Unless you feel like sharing.”
Leslie nodded. “Once I give you your first paycheck, we’re going to pull up at a Planet and you’re going to stop acting like a hobo.” Her look turned sly. “You’ll need them if you’re to impress James.”
“Stop acting like a hobo?” Sarah unclipped the last strap and pushed off the treadmill, floating above it and trying very hard not to move. “But I’ve been working at it for years. My mother would be so disappointed.”
The grin slipped a little at the mention of James. “What, you don’t think I made enough of an impression locking him in the airlock? Damn. I’d hate to see the Durant-First-Date technique. Besides, come on. You saw the way he was looking at you. I wouldn’t want to get between him and a gun, and I’m definitely not about to go throwing myself between him and you.”
Leslie shook her head. “We get along, but behind that that beautiful hollywood-superstar exterior lies a troubled and worn man. And he probably liked the airlock stunt. He’s been badgering me about security measures for a while, and he was happy to know that someone has an eye out for it.”
Her smile faded and she retracted her hand from Sarah’s shoulder. “He’s probably right, though.”
“Oh, absolutely. The book was definitely an inferior gift to state secrets but, you know, give him a chance. I’m sure he can do better.” Sarah smirked. “Oh. Probably had a point on security too. I mean, it could easily have been someone else out there. I don’t know about Bretonia, but Rheinland could be downright nasty as far as piracy went.” I should know. I was doing it. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into anything already, honestly.”
Leslie shrugged. “I tend to keep to the safer areas of Sirius, and fly in the shadow of corporate and military patrols when I can. It’s worked so far and kept the money flowing.” She looked away. “I don’t know, honestly. This is a six-man ship and it’s supposed to have at least one guard against boarding. Lots of people keep telling me I’m playing with fire and I’ll get burnt at the altar of greed.”
“Beats freezing in the gutter of poverty, though.” Sarah conceded. “It’s a fair point. I mean, a ship this big, someone comes in amidships like James did while one of us is off-duty… It’s not exactly going to be a huge fight for them, is it?” She glanced self-consciously at her hip. “I haven’t carried a gun in years. Call me weird, but I never liked having something like that on me. Maybe it’s time to think about it again. Unless you’re planning to fight boarders off yourself. What is that you’ve got in your quarters, a broadsword?”
Leslie quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve been spying about my quarters?”
“Not spying.” Sarah shrugged, a difficult exercise floating four foot above the floor. “Just checking the serials on the access panels. It’s not like you’ve got it well hidden, I could see it from the door. A little big to keep under your pillow, isn’t it?”
Leslie sighed. “Just a gift from the Kokutai. It’s a ceremonial Katana and I have no idea how to use it.” She held up a hand to ward off further questions. “That’s a story for another time.”
She rubbed her forehead in thought. “A guard in particular would be nothing but a money-sink guarding against a threat that may never arise. So I’m compromising by trying to teach myself some basic hand-to-hand skills and pistols.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not any good at either, but you just need to look threatening, right?”
“See, I told you the hobo look had advantages.” Sarah grabbed at a rail and swung herself back to something approximating a standing position relative to the ship. Her head was still swimming from the run. “Looking threatening is a nice start, but if anyone’s serious about coming aboard I don’t know that even a guard would make that much of a difference. I mean, once someone’s alongside it’s pretty much all over.” She nodded toward the engine room, nestled at the rear of the serenity. “Always preferred just running faster than the other guy, but that’s not exactly a great option out here. And, as you might’ve guessed, my running’s a little out of practice.”
Leslie laughed and leaned on Sarah a little. “It’s nice to know people care though.” She straightened, pushing an errant lock of hair away from her eyes. “My plan was that we both do what we can to cover the ship against attack, pick up at least enough skill to look somewhat threatening.”
“Me?” That got a laugh from Sarah. She doubled over and chuckled until her lungs started aching again. “Both of us in combat? God, we are in trouble, aren’t we?” Slowly, the laughter died down. “I’ll do what I can, sure. I mean, I’d prefer to avoid getting into a punch-up in the first place, but if that’s where we’re going… I’m as keen on avoiding a shuttle to Malta as the next person.”
“You’d probably end up in the harem,” Leslie quipped absently, focusing a moment later. “This is just a stop-gap thing, really. What I want to do once we secure some more contracts is hire more people, or at least some Mechs to cover against that.”
“A harem, you really think so? Gee, you say the nicest things to me.” Sarah frowned, rubbed a hand across her forehead in thought. “People are always the better option. Mechs are vulnerable in a dozen other ways. EMP, hacking, anti-material weapons. There’s a bucket of issues with those things in combat, besides being as dumb as bricks. There’s a reason warships still run with human crews.”
Leslie nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It depends on our contracts situation though, Mechs are the cheaper, disposable option.” She placed both hands on Sarah’s shoulders and looked at her seriously. “I do want to prioritise this, Sarah. I’m looking for contracts where I can, but if you have any old or -new- contacts that might help, talk to them. Or let me talk to them.”
Sarah paused. The Widerstand didn’t exactly specialise in drones, but she knew of another organisation that did. Whether they’d been in the mood to talk to her was another question altogether. “I might know some people. They might not want to talk to me, but I can ask around. No promises, but I can ask.”
Leslie frowned. “I can talk to them if you like. Mask your involvement.”
“Thanks for the offer, but it’s not quite that straightforward. I wish it was.” Sarah glanced away, wiped some of the sweat off on her arm. “Look, I don’t even know if my contacts are still taking calls. It’s been a long time since I talked to anyone that wasn’t a client. Let me do a bit of digging and I’ll let you know what turns up.”
Leslie responded by pulling Sarah into a quick hug, releasing her a moment later. Sarah tensed at the contact, a new spasm shooting up through her legs, but after a moment the engineer relaxed.
“That’s all I can ask.” Inwardly, Leslie felt satisfied. Her initial impressions of the Engineer had been right, the woman did have a past, and now it was leaking out. She had no intention of using this against her, but if Sarah McFarlen was more important than she seemed, she needed to leverage it somehow.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Sarah said. No promises that either one of us is going to like it. She pushed herself past Leslie and retrieved a pair of faded towels from a locker. “Now, are you taking first shower or are we going to stand here fouling up the air all day?”
Leslie smiled. “Captain’s rights. I’ll go first, naturally…” She floated past. “And then I can tell you about the Katana and how their Leader blushed when I told her what I intended to do with the pommel…”
A laugh escaped her lips as she drifted up the staircase.
I mean, people have started wars-” Sarah gasped, swallowed a mouthful of air, and staggered forward another pace. God. Her legs felt like she’d run over them with a steamroller and put the pulpy remnants in a microwave for half an hour. Her lungs weren’t feeling so much better. “And wiped out. Cities. And salted the earth. Twice.” She puffed, forced herself to keep moving. “But really. That’s peanuts compared. To how much. I hate you right now.”
Underneath her, the treadmill hummed like a satanic nun. Straps secured the harness wrapped around her torso to the body of the treadmill in a crude approximation of gravity, preventing her from smashing into the Galley’s bulkhead. Which, at the moment, was starting to look like an attractive option if it meant that she got to stop running. Sarah gasped out another breath, heart jackhammering in her chest. Sweat beaded on her face, her hair, between her shoulders and the jumping straps. There was no chafe quite like zero-G chafe.
A short distance from her, Leslie was stretching out her limbs, humming to herself wordlessly. She was trying to remember all the basics the Kokutai had taught her. Tried to, at least. The shrill voice of their drill instructor, a short unassuming man by the name of Shinji still echoed in her head. ”Pay attention to all your limbs, Gaijin! All your muscles need to be worked before you can begin!”
She’d changed into appropriate attire for the situation, at least. An old black T-shirt with the Brabant logo and symbol on them and matching shorts. Sparing a glance in Sarah’s direction, where the Engineer was grumbling away while working out in the same clothes she had joined the ship with, Leslie smiled beatifically.
“You seem to be enjoying it.”
Sarah grunted, too busy not falling off the treadmill for a more coherent response. After a few more agonising moments, she slapped the ‘stop’ switch like a drowning woman presented with a glass of water. Torturously slowly, the machine slowed to a walk. Between the two of them the Galley barely had enough hands to qualify as a skeleton crew. All the extra space came with dubious upsides, and the pair had converted one of the empty crew quarters into a low-tech gym. When enough air seeped back into her lungs for speech, she shot Leslie a glance.
“You know, I don’t recall physical torture being included in the job offer.” Sarah pulled in another breath. The air was dry, pumped through the recycling systems more times than she could count, but right then it tasted as sweet as a spring breeze. “I never thought I’d say this, but I’d actually welcome not being able to feel anything below my waist right about now.”
Leslie did not respond immediately, concentrating on the basic motions Shinji had tried to teach her. Those would form the basis of any style she wanted to learn in the future, he’d said. She’d been slacking off on this, but after bullying Sarah into a fitness regimen, it’d be hypocritical for her not to join. She kept her motions slow and balanced, anything too energetic would have negative consequences in low-gravity. After doing a brief split, she got up and patted Sarah on her shoulder.
“It’ll be fine. We both need to keep to a regimen of some sort if we’re to keep our muscles in good condition.” She spared Sarah a brief glare. “You of all people should know this.”
“I know, I know. I think I can remember why I stopped in the first place now.” Sarah yielded a pained grin as the treadmill finally rocked to a stop. She rubbed at sweat-stained leg and gingerly started unclipping the straps from the harness. “What are you doing down there? I didn’t know you practised yoga.”
Leslie shook her head, trying to send her left leg directly up in the air. She put too much force in the motion, and span out of control. “Ah shi-” Her cry was cut short as her head hit the floor once. She grabbed a nearby strap for balance and rubbed her head. “That didn’t go according to plan, did it?”
Sarah grinned, all innocence.
Leslie pulled herself up by a strap, floating upright once more. “I guess that calls for a break.” She sniffed the air dubiously. “You should get some gym clothes, you’re gonna smell for a while.”
“Thanks for the support. Nice to know that someone cares.” Sarah wrinkled her nose. Cargo pants and a t-shirt had many uses, but she was starting to suspect that gymwear was not one of them. The long streaks of sweat down the back of her trousers seemed to agree. “I’ll find something next time we pull in, I guess. Unless you feel like sharing.”
Leslie nodded. “Once I give you your first paycheck, we’re going to pull up at a Planet and you’re going to stop acting like a hobo.” Her look turned sly. “You’ll need them if you’re to impress James.”
“Stop acting like a hobo?” Sarah unclipped the last strap and pushed off the treadmill, floating above it and trying very hard not to move. “But I’ve been working at it for years. My mother would be so disappointed.”
The grin slipped a little at the mention of James. “What, you don’t think I made enough of an impression locking him in the airlock? Damn. I’d hate to see the Durant-First-Date technique. Besides, come on. You saw the way he was looking at you. I wouldn’t want to get between him and a gun, and I’m definitely not about to go throwing myself between him and you.”
Leslie shook her head. “We get along, but behind that that beautiful hollywood-superstar exterior lies a troubled and worn man. And he probably liked the airlock stunt. He’s been badgering me about security measures for a while, and he was happy to know that someone has an eye out for it.”
Her smile faded and she retracted her hand from Sarah’s shoulder. “He’s probably right, though.”
“Oh, absolutely. The book was definitely an inferior gift to state secrets but, you know, give him a chance. I’m sure he can do better.” Sarah smirked. “Oh. Probably had a point on security too. I mean, it could easily have been someone else out there. I don’t know about Bretonia, but Rheinland could be downright nasty as far as piracy went.” I should know. I was doing it. “I’m surprised you haven’t run into anything already, honestly.”
Leslie shrugged. “I tend to keep to the safer areas of Sirius, and fly in the shadow of corporate and military patrols when I can. It’s worked so far and kept the money flowing.” She looked away. “I don’t know, honestly. This is a six-man ship and it’s supposed to have at least one guard against boarding. Lots of people keep telling me I’m playing with fire and I’ll get burnt at the altar of greed.”
“Beats freezing in the gutter of poverty, though.” Sarah conceded. “It’s a fair point. I mean, a ship this big, someone comes in amidships like James did while one of us is off-duty… It’s not exactly going to be a huge fight for them, is it?” She glanced self-consciously at her hip. “I haven’t carried a gun in years. Call me weird, but I never liked having something like that on me. Maybe it’s time to think about it again. Unless you’re planning to fight boarders off yourself. What is that you’ve got in your quarters, a broadsword?”
Leslie quirked an eyebrow. “You’ve been spying about my quarters?”
“Not spying.” Sarah shrugged, a difficult exercise floating four foot above the floor. “Just checking the serials on the access panels. It’s not like you’ve got it well hidden, I could see it from the door. A little big to keep under your pillow, isn’t it?”
Leslie sighed. “Just a gift from the Kokutai. It’s a ceremonial Katana and I have no idea how to use it.” She held up a hand to ward off further questions. “That’s a story for another time.”
She rubbed her forehead in thought. “A guard in particular would be nothing but a money-sink guarding against a threat that may never arise. So I’m compromising by trying to teach myself some basic hand-to-hand skills and pistols.” She smiled wryly. “I’m not any good at either, but you just need to look threatening, right?”
“See, I told you the hobo look had advantages.” Sarah grabbed at a rail and swung herself back to something approximating a standing position relative to the ship. Her head was still swimming from the run. “Looking threatening is a nice start, but if anyone’s serious about coming aboard I don’t know that even a guard would make that much of a difference. I mean, once someone’s alongside it’s pretty much all over.” She nodded toward the engine room, nestled at the rear of the serenity. “Always preferred just running faster than the other guy, but that’s not exactly a great option out here. And, as you might’ve guessed, my running’s a little out of practice.”
Leslie laughed and leaned on Sarah a little. “It’s nice to know people care though.” She straightened, pushing an errant lock of hair away from her eyes. “My plan was that we both do what we can to cover the ship against attack, pick up at least enough skill to look somewhat threatening.”
“Me?” That got a laugh from Sarah. She doubled over and chuckled until her lungs started aching again. “Both of us in combat? God, we are in trouble, aren’t we?” Slowly, the laughter died down. “I’ll do what I can, sure. I mean, I’d prefer to avoid getting into a punch-up in the first place, but if that’s where we’re going… I’m as keen on avoiding a shuttle to Malta as the next person.”
“You’d probably end up in the harem,” Leslie quipped absently, focusing a moment later. “This is just a stop-gap thing, really. What I want to do once we secure some more contracts is hire more people, or at least some Mechs to cover against that.”
“A harem, you really think so? Gee, you say the nicest things to me.” Sarah frowned, rubbed a hand across her forehead in thought. “People are always the better option. Mechs are vulnerable in a dozen other ways. EMP, hacking, anti-material weapons. There’s a bucket of issues with those things in combat, besides being as dumb as bricks. There’s a reason warships still run with human crews.”
Leslie nodded. “I suppose you’re right. It depends on our contracts situation though, Mechs are the cheaper, disposable option.” She placed both hands on Sarah’s shoulders and looked at her seriously. “I do want to prioritise this, Sarah. I’m looking for contracts where I can, but if you have any old or -new- contacts that might help, talk to them. Or let me talk to them.”
Sarah paused. The Widerstand didn’t exactly specialise in drones, but she knew of another organisation that did. Whether they’d been in the mood to talk to her was another question altogether. “I might know some people. They might not want to talk to me, but I can ask around. No promises, but I can ask.”
Leslie frowned. “I can talk to them if you like. Mask your involvement.”
“Thanks for the offer, but it’s not quite that straightforward. I wish it was.” Sarah glanced away, wiped some of the sweat off on her arm. “Look, I don’t even know if my contacts are still taking calls. It’s been a long time since I talked to anyone that wasn’t a client. Let me do a bit of digging and I’ll let you know what turns up.”
Leslie responded by pulling Sarah into a quick hug, releasing her a moment later. Sarah tensed at the contact, a new spasm shooting up through her legs, but after a moment the engineer relaxed.
“That’s all I can ask.” Inwardly, Leslie felt satisfied. Her initial impressions of the Engineer had been right, the woman did have a past, and now it was leaking out. She had no intention of using this against her, but if Sarah McFarlen was more important than she seemed, she needed to leverage it somehow.
“I’ll see what I can do.” Sarah said. No promises that either one of us is going to like it. She pushed herself past Leslie and retrieved a pair of faded towels from a locker. “Now, are you taking first shower or are we going to stand here fouling up the air all day?”
Leslie smiled. “Captain’s rights. I’ll go first, naturally…” She floated past. “And then I can tell you about the Katana and how their Leader blushed when I told her what I intended to do with the pommel…”
A laugh escaped her lips as she drifted up the staircase.
RE: In The Black - Aboard Adventure Galley - Sarah McFarlen - 06-28-2015
21st June 822 – Tau-31 System, Border Worlds
“So, I’ve been thinking. What’s the deal with you and Lisa?” Sarah was nestled in a cocoon of displays on the Galley’s bridge, straps zig-zagging across her chest like a madman’s straightjacket. Leslie was strapped into the pilot’s seat next to her, eyes raking her own displays. Adventure Galley was within spitting distance of the Gallic frontline, and Sarah had abandoned her usual ceaseless circuit of equipment checks and replacements to keep an extra set of eyes on the world outside the Serenity. As far as Sarah was concerned, it was a day out of the stifling confines of the engine room.
“Thank the Gauls for giving me a day out, by the way. I’m looking forward to eating lunch somewhere that doesn’t get me classified as a radiation worker.” She jerked her head toward the floor and the reprocessed protein and worryingly-nonspecific cubes that masqueraded as lunch on the Galley, secured in a plastic bag and elastic strap under the chair. They had topped off the serenity’s bunkers on the way through New London, but fresh food remained tantalisingly out of reach. “I mean, you guys all signed on together to go fight the good fight together, right? James is the pointman, guns and dirty-deeds, I get that. Lisa’s the systems tech, but where did you fit in? No offense, but you’re not even Bretonian. How did you end up mixed up in all that?”
Leslie threw an irritated glance at Sarah, but eventually replaced that expression with a smile. “Things sort of just happened. The Kokutai told me that Hitomi had goofed up, and I thought I’d make a few calls to a few experts I knew from earlier.” She chuckled. “I guess that makes me a facilitator, or a manager. Not much beyond that.”
“Do I want to know how you ended up playing ball with the exiles in the first place?” Sarah turned away from her screen, cocked an eyebrow. “They’re not exactly the going thing back in Liberty. At least, not when I left.” Sarah grinned. “You know, I don’t think they existed when I left.”
Leslie shrugged. “They were the first group to really seek me out for a business contract. A worn out troubled operation like theirs can use all the supplies they can get, so it fit right into my plans. I eventually ended up befriending a few people there.”
“All part of the master plan, huh? Leslie Durant, mistress of manipulation.” Sarah smirked. “I was kinda wondering if Lisa does independent work these days or if she’s all tied up. There are a few computers around that I’m getting really tempted to turn back into sand.”
“Mistress, eh?” Leslie looked at Sarah with a glint in her eye. “Someday I’ll sell you short to buy a big ol’ mansion on Curacao. At least that’s how the movies go.” She paused. “And then you’ll probably learn kung-fu and return to kill me.”
She considered Sarah’s question. “Lisa’s pretty busy with the Navy these days, they have given her a full time contract apparently. That being said, she’ll probably do a job for us or two if she has the time. What did you have in mind?”
“Are you implying I’m not already a highly-trained killing machine?” Sarah shrugged, turned her attention back to the screens. Still a whole lot of nothing out there. She noted with satisfaction that the number two engine was flying straight again. More or less. “It’s no big deal, really. Just a few old jobs that are playing up a bit. Not much I can do about it from here, so I was kinda hoping someone might be able to throw together a software fix. Lisa seemed like she’d be up for that. She did threaten to vent the cargo bay from half a sector away.”
Leslie smiled. “She can’t do that.” A brief pause. “I think.” Another pause. “I hope.”
After a moment, she sent a datapad floating Sarah’s way. “It’s got her contact details, so you can call her. If she doesn’t pick up, she’s probably in the basement again and will get back to you in a couple of months.”
“Thanks skipper.” Sarah snatched the pad out of the air and tucked it in beside her. “I’ll give her a call at lunch.” She glanced nervously behind her, down the long corridor that lead down the transport’s spine. “You don’t really think she can vent the ship, do you?”
“Thank the Gauls for giving me a day out, by the way. I’m looking forward to eating lunch somewhere that doesn’t get me classified as a radiation worker.” She jerked her head toward the floor and the reprocessed protein and worryingly-nonspecific cubes that masqueraded as lunch on the Galley, secured in a plastic bag and elastic strap under the chair. They had topped off the serenity’s bunkers on the way through New London, but fresh food remained tantalisingly out of reach. “I mean, you guys all signed on together to go fight the good fight together, right? James is the pointman, guns and dirty-deeds, I get that. Lisa’s the systems tech, but where did you fit in? No offense, but you’re not even Bretonian. How did you end up mixed up in all that?”
Leslie threw an irritated glance at Sarah, but eventually replaced that expression with a smile. “Things sort of just happened. The Kokutai told me that Hitomi had goofed up, and I thought I’d make a few calls to a few experts I knew from earlier.” She chuckled. “I guess that makes me a facilitator, or a manager. Not much beyond that.”
“Do I want to know how you ended up playing ball with the exiles in the first place?” Sarah turned away from her screen, cocked an eyebrow. “They’re not exactly the going thing back in Liberty. At least, not when I left.” Sarah grinned. “You know, I don’t think they existed when I left.”
Leslie shrugged. “They were the first group to really seek me out for a business contract. A worn out troubled operation like theirs can use all the supplies they can get, so it fit right into my plans. I eventually ended up befriending a few people there.”
“All part of the master plan, huh? Leslie Durant, mistress of manipulation.” Sarah smirked. “I was kinda wondering if Lisa does independent work these days or if she’s all tied up. There are a few computers around that I’m getting really tempted to turn back into sand.”
“Mistress, eh?” Leslie looked at Sarah with a glint in her eye. “Someday I’ll sell you short to buy a big ol’ mansion on Curacao. At least that’s how the movies go.” She paused. “And then you’ll probably learn kung-fu and return to kill me.”
She considered Sarah’s question. “Lisa’s pretty busy with the Navy these days, they have given her a full time contract apparently. That being said, she’ll probably do a job for us or two if she has the time. What did you have in mind?”
“Are you implying I’m not already a highly-trained killing machine?” Sarah shrugged, turned her attention back to the screens. Still a whole lot of nothing out there. She noted with satisfaction that the number two engine was flying straight again. More or less. “It’s no big deal, really. Just a few old jobs that are playing up a bit. Not much I can do about it from here, so I was kinda hoping someone might be able to throw together a software fix. Lisa seemed like she’d be up for that. She did threaten to vent the cargo bay from half a sector away.”
Leslie smiled. “She can’t do that.” A brief pause. “I think.” Another pause. “I hope.”
After a moment, she sent a datapad floating Sarah’s way. “It’s got her contact details, so you can call her. If she doesn’t pick up, she’s probably in the basement again and will get back to you in a couple of months.”
“Thanks skipper.” Sarah snatched the pad out of the air and tucked it in beside her. “I’ll give her a call at lunch.” She glanced nervously behind her, down the long corridor that lead down the transport’s spine. “You don’t really think she can vent the ship, do you?”