Beyond the Farthest Star: Deep Black Sea

[Atlas Drake]

[SIZE=11pt]MISSION[/SIZE]

• [SIZE=11pt]Traverse the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Nagai Trade Spine[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] across 150,000 light-years of intergalactic void to colonize the satellite galaxy known as [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Firefist[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt].[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]VESSEL[/SIZE]

• [SIZE=11pt]The Gossamer[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Lotekk-class Deep Space Transport, heavily modified[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Length: 1500 meters[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Armament: Low[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Defenses: Very High[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Hangar: 3 [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]two-seater starfighter[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] squadrons, colonial runabouts, assorted shuttles/freighters/small craft belonging to various crew members[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Maneuverability: Low[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Speed: Moderate[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Hyperdrive Rating: 0.5, backup 10[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]CREW MANIFEST[/SIZE]

• [SIZE=11pt]Captain: Atlas Drake[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Executive Officer: [member="Dax Fyre"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Security Officers: [member="Noah Corek"] (quartermaster), [member="Davin Skirata"] (local guide), [member="Subject 5"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Medical Officers: [member="Rian Taske"], [member="Nida Perl"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Tactical Officer: [member="Bryce Bantam"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Science Officer: [member="Bella Rimini"], [member="Corvus Dravere"], [member="Tess Sparrow"], [member="Orin Hawke"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Communications Officers: [member="Kaiah Nihl"] (diplomat/local guide), [member="Faye Irithiel"] (diplomat), [member="Kirie Ito"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Navigators: [member="Tera Highwind"], [member="Kaia Starchaser"], [member="Aeshi Tillian"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Shuttle/Fighter Pilots: [member="Tera Highwind"] (secondary role), [member="Cinara Vencu"] (secondary role), [member="Kyle Farnes"], [member="Andan Solo"], [member="Aeshi Tillian"] (secondary role)[/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Engineers: [member="Vuie 'Srahum"], [member="Cinara Vencu"][/SIZE]
• [SIZE=11pt]Other: [member="Yusuf Dar"] (stowaway), [member="Sedge"] (deckhand)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]CAPTAIN'S LOG / 855 ABY[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I thought I had prepared myself, poured over every byte of data from the original expedition, but the truth is there is nothing quite like being out here. Companion Besh. Firefist. After months of FTL travel we're less than a week away from its spiral arm and the outer limits of Maccabree space. I've called a planning session to [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]determine the safest course[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] from here, whether it would be more practical to [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]negotiate[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] with the squid-like cyborgs or [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]avoid[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] their territory entirely. I hope I can rely on my officers to provide me with guidance in this matter. (Suggested crew roles: Communications Officers, Navigators, Tactical Officer, Local Guides)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]We've just docked with the last automated Silk Holdings refueling station along the Trade Spine, fresh supplies and hypermatter were ferried ahead months in advance via HALCYON space train and should be awaiting our arrival, but already there have been problems. The station's automated fuel rig is inoperable, so an [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]EVA mission[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] is required to [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]repair the station[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] and [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]replenish our fuel reserves[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] before we can continue. As long as everyone obeys safety protocols, it should be a routine if time consuming procedure. (Suggested crew roles: Engineers, Science Officer, Pilots, Volunteers)[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]To make matters worse, the first team aboard the station reports that somehow an [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]aggressive breed of mynock[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] smuggled themselves out here, probably hitching a ride on the HALCYON. I'm dispatching a second team to [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]eradicate the threat[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], and [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]evaluate our supplies[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] so we can asses the damage they've caused in food spoilage and spent power cells. Our reserves are running low, and if this pick up is a lost cause it will mean rationing what remains and delays while we scavenge along the Maccabree border for resources. (Suggested crew roles: Security Officers, Medical Officers, Engineers, Volunteers)[/SIZE]

 

[Vuie 'Srahum]

LOCATION: Silk Holdings Station Airlock . . .

Vuie strode down towards the station's airlock in her Ranger gear, taking it upon herself to repair the fuel rig, feeling that she was the most qualified for such a task. The Captain had noted to her to keep within safety protocol, but she didn't really pay him any mind; there was a task to do and she wasn't going to let some protocol tell her how to complete it.

The way in which Vuie had actually attained the position was something of interest. She had just finished her last job with an unsavoury Shell Hutt, and was on the search for something a little more professional. Unfortunately for her, the only well-paying jobs were ones where she'd have to work on a team, and Vuie does not get along with people the best...though she tries. Swallowing her immense pride, she had found her way to Gossamer where it's captain, Atlas Drake, was overseeing some final repairs before the ship was ready for it's long voyage. While her Galactic Basic skills did not impress, Vuie managed to score her position as an engineer by reassembling a nearby life support system that was pulled apart with ease. Immediately she found herself joining the mechanics, assisting in getting the Gossamer in top shape.

Vuie slipped her helmet on, ensuring it properly connected to her suit; without delay, the HUD flickered to life with displays of vitals, sensors, and even a built-in commlink. She pinged the Gossamer's communications to allow her to patch directly to the captain.

Her mic crackled to life, "Kyaptain, 'Srrahum beginning E. V. A. , on way rrepair fuels rrig." Galactic Basic was not Vuie's strong-suit. She was perfectly intelligent, capable of complex problem solving and smarter than the average person...she just couldn't grasp new languages well enough.

With the airlock depressurized, she opened the exterior door and made her way out into the open expanse of space. She ensured her toolkit was fastened to her suit properly and kept her fusion cutter strapped to her forearm at ready. Outside the station, Vuie was unable to discern which structures were the fuel cells, and the on-station layout guide refused to download to her HUD, leaving her a bit lost.

She spoke into her mic again, "'Srahum in needing of guide."



[member="Atlas Drake"]

 

[Subject 5]

Fives spun the pistol around on his finger, watching the weapon rotate on his digit, with a bemusement not quite becoming of a security officer. Or at least, whatever the hell he'd signed up for. Bounty hunting was very old hat, and the potential pay for this outsized any bounty. Even the twenty or so grand he had safely tucked away in his effects, would be eclipsed by the pay dirt. Plus, it got him out of the sights of the CIS, Mandalorians, and any others he had trespassed against. So, really his presence was twofold, but he nonetheless kept the reasons for his departure on this journey to himself.

The bounty hunter, attired in his traditional leather vest, slacks, and plastoid weave undershirt, and sunglasses, approached the elevator before the cargo bay. Pest control, seemed he was going to be protecting a heap of the other staff as they ran a quick check on supplies. Apparently someone hadn't sealed it properly, or something. Fives hadn't been listening, but he knew it was time to flex his own credentials in front of the other staff, and more importantly the security team. He could already sense a sort of animosity. Perceived or otherwise, that he wasn't serious, that he was some joker and small fry. He would prove them otherwise. Fives looked around the faces of the crew assembled before him, preparing to sweep and keep inventory.

"Y'all ready for this?" He drawled, sliding his glasses halfway down the bridge of his nose, an eyebrow raised at the rag tag group before him. He holstered his pistol, stopping the rotation of it, and then took out a cigarra from his black jacket pocket, and lighting it. "Just give me the go, and I'll go blow those bastards to kingdom come."

[member="Atlas Drake"]

 

[Bryce Bantam]

On the Gossamer - Ready room

Bryce sat back into the worn high backed seat a goofy smile upon his face. He loved exploring, seeing new things, interacting with new cultures; the life of a rogue suited him well. This uniform he had been issued did not however. I mean he was a marshal of the outback, lead folks in battle. But all this formal command stuff was SO not him. Still to get invited to the party he had do fudge his invitation a little. Take this role of tactical officer and he would do his part and keep up his end of the bargain.

The cyber-squids seemed like in interesting puzzle. Problem was they were trying to solve it without seeing all the pieces. From a tactical perspective they simply didn't know enough to make an informed decision. Were the Maccabree still hostile, is so, how hostile. Should we avoid their territory, how big was their territory? Would avoiding them be and insult and create the conflict they sought to avoid.

No if Bryce had his say we need to explore, but do so without risking the Gossamer and the colonists. He had ideas, plans within plans. But he would keep them to himself till the meeting began.

So for now he sat in his chair, playing with a 3D projection of one of the two seater fighters safely tucked away in the hanger.

 

[Jeanne-Marie Antoinette]

Location: A small office aboard the Gossamer


"Highly aggressive"

Faye stared at those two words. They were the words that made it clear, her job was going to be difficult. Over the years Faye had found herself working as a freelance diplomat. Faye lent her voice, and reason to people who wanted to find more...peaceful solutions to critical problems. Such was the case today. Faye had been asked to join a expedition to Maccabree space. Her task was to assess the Maccabree race, give guidance on how to deal with them and if need be, speak to them herself. Step 1, Assess the Maccabree had been completed and it did not look good. Earlier on, Faye had been given a data-pad filled with what little information about the Maccabree was known. The data-pad did not offer much aside from a detailed description of their biology and, their aggression.

Step 2, guidance. Faye was now lost. Her head throbbed as she tried to think of a way to turn what she thought was inevitable conflict, into a peaceful expedition. She knew that she would eventually have to present some sort of plan to the captain, so time was not really on her side. Faye decided that it might be a good idea to pick the mind off some of the other people on board, perhaps the security personnel? After all, they would be the ones getting their hands bloody if things went south. Perhaps their constant dealings with conflict has opened their minds to different solutions.

With a soft sigh, Faye rose from her seat and made her way to the door of the office. Her makeshift office has no comm-link in it, so she had to use the one located in the corridor. Faye looked very out of place as she made her way down the narrow corridor. Unlike most other people on board, Faye kept up with her usual elegant and formal attire. Dressed in a simple white gown with her hair held back with a simple white headdress, she looked more like a handmaiden than a crew member.

Spoiler

Ignoring the people who glanced at her, knowing they were thinking about how out of place she looked. Faye reached the inter-comm, cleared her throat and pressed the button that would send her voice down to the hangar. She knew there were members of the security/tactical team down there.

"Greetings...This is Miss Faye Irithiel, one of the diplomats from the communications division. I was wondering if could perhaps speak to a member, or members of the Security/tactical team regarding the upcoming mission"

[member="Atlas Drake"]

 

[Kaiah Nihl]

Kaiah Nihl
Diplomat / Local Guide
S.S. Gossamer - Crew quarters
[member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Faye Irithiel"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"]

​

She watched the engineers drift through space, their movement appearing slow and slumberous as they drifted towards the expansive space station. She stretched, the water dripping from her head and flinging onto the glass of the window. She stood there, frozen in thought, the slow drip drip of her wet hair soaking into the shoulders of her shirt.

Kaiah rubbed her eyes and let out a small yawn. She was tired, restless ever since they entered the new space. She had told herself over and over that she wasn’t nervous about returning home, but she couldn’t fool herself any longer. She had been gone for a long time, and she was not the same little girl anymore. Nagai were a very family-orientated people, and she wondered what her mother would think about her fleeing to another galaxy. The older woman was proud and traditional. Kaiah doubted it would go well. ‘Don’t forget about him’ a small voice whispered in the back of her mind. ‘Maybe he will kill you, when you return…’

She shook her head to clear her dark thoughts and moved away from the window. She grabbed her towel from her bed, drying the last bit of moisture in hair and tying the mess into a ponytail. She approached her desk, scolding herself for mess of papers covering the surface. Atop one stack was a large file on the Maccabree, with large sections of text highlighted on each document. Just looking at the file made her head ache and she let out a sigh of relief as the comms unit next to her buzzed.

She moved over to answer the call, listening as a stiff male voice came from the other end. “Hello Ms Nihl” he began, sounding more robot than human. “In reference to your earlier call, Miss Fay Irithiel is the only other serving diplomat aboard. She’s currently located in the office module”. The was a pause of the other end before the man continued, hesitation in his voice. “I’ve been told to issue a warning about your number of showers you’ve been having, Miss. As you know, there is only so much water on the Gossamer and everyone should strive to-” Kaiah let go of the button, cutting the officer off. She stared down at her garb, a simple shirt and pants with no shoes, and decided she was decent enough to go for a wander.

- - - - -​

The metal floor was cool underneath her bare feet, providing a stark contrast to the two hot cups of caf in each hand. Her wandering had taken her through a small mess hall, where she picked up the beverages before continuing on her mission. The office module shouldn’t have been difficult to find, the starship had signs everywhere, but she had a habit of getting lost. Thus, it was luck she arrived at Faye’s door with the caf still hot.

She debated knocking but decided the task would be impossible without spilling hot liquid all over her. She moved towards the door, hitting the open button with her elbow. “Hullo Miss Irithiel” Kaiah said. “Cup of caf?”. She placed the woman’s cup on the desk and took a long swig of her own, making a satisfied noise as she felt the heat travel down her throat and into her chest. “Oh, but where are my manners!” she exclaimed. “Kaiah Nihl: Nagai, Diplomat”. She stuck her hand out to shake. “Atlas Drake hired me to act as a local guide for the system. I’ve been told we have a Maccabree problem”.

 

[Kirie]

The Gossamer, Personal Quarters.

Her head hurt. Not particularly noticeably, more of a dull pulse, something one would barely notice, provided they were busy with other things. As she was, lying on her back in her too-small quarters, on a stiff mattress, the ache was bothering her greatly.

Recycled air circulated in lazy vortices around the cramped space. A small closet was open, and a few sets of clothes dangled from hangars over a rumpled duffel bag, in it somehow were packed all the worldly possessions Kirie deemed of enough work to bring to another Galaxy. Needless to say, it didn't amount to much. Otherwise, the room was bare of personality or even sign of habitation. She’d been hesitant to unpack anything really. Even after all this time spent aboard the vessel, it still felt like intruding, squatting in a place that was not hers.

In fact, one of the only items in the room that would tie the quarters to Kirie was the modified droid, a mini-protocol setup that hung around her like a shadow whenever she left the security of her own room. It wasn’t so bad once you got used to it. Besides, it was a necessity. Even if the crew could all speak sign, which they couldn’t, the droid provided vital assistance in her role aboard the ship. That is, it was her personal translator.

Sighing, Kirie sat up. She’d have to find something to do, something to distract her from the dull pounding behind her eyes. Something to stop her wallowing in her thoughts with only the thrum of the ship to keep her company. With her legs dangling over the bed she pondered what to do. Her shift on comm duty wasn’t for several hours. Really, she should be sleeping, Kirie still had two hours of mandated rest time left. She almost shuddered at the prospect of trying to get back to sleep, having just awoken from her fitful and restless doze. She had to at least get out and walk around.

No doubt she could make herself useful somewhere. It was a busy day aboard The Gossamer, with a number of missions, meetings and projects running concurrently. Kirie was sure her help would be appreciated somewhere. Or at least she hoped so.

Pulling a jacket over her uniform, Kirie made sure she was presentable, pulling her hair into a tight, simple bun, and squinting at the figure reflecting the room’s dim light. All in all she looked fine. Good enough to leave her room without embarrassment. Inside, she felt hollow, lonely even. But so long as she looked okay on the outside that was all that mattered, right?

Opening the door and stepping into the hall, Kirie squinted as the light shifted from a dim beige to a harsher, clinical blue-white. Out of the corner of her eye she saw the droid rise smoothly from its perch and takes its place on her shoulder.

Kirie swept her eyes left and right. She knew that the navigators and guides were having a meeting about the Maccabree, maybe she could listen in, and learn what their next steps would be. It was better than wandering aimlessly on languishing in her quarters.

Nodding to herself, Kirie got her bearings, and began walking to the Ready Room.

| [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Bryce Bantam"] | [member="Faye Irithiel"] | [member="Kaiah Nihl"] |​

 

[Tera Highwind]

Location: Bridge
Objective: Figure out a path out of trouble
Job: Navigator

A ship was a little like a living breathing organism, the engines moved it, the crew the blood that got everything done and the bridge, well that was the nerve centre of the whole operation. It was from the bridge that the commands flowed down the ship, the commands that pulled a crew together, that sent them scurrying and hurrying. The commands that would send this ship hurtling through the cold depths of the void, leaping to explore new lands, to see things that no-one had ever seen before. Or at least that was the plan. Only, it wasn't going to happen if they didn't figure out the best path to take to their initial destination. Oh, the captain would choose the final path, advised by diplomats and engineers, logistics personnel and well every member of the crew would want a say, would have some titbit to include that would affect the final choice. But now, now the board was empty, this wasn't about building the best path to absorb everyone else's input. Right now the board was empty and all that needed to be done was pure mathematics, pure navigation, to pick out the best path possible. The woman grinned, baring her white teeth as the reached up to touch an errant lock of hair behind her ear, eyes focusing on the nav board.

"Ok then, let's see now."

 

[Bella Rimini]

​

Silk Holdings Station
Repair Fuel System

From the command deck of the Silk Holdings Station, a woman in a strange black bodyglove touched her delicate eyepiece. Connecting her voice com to [member="Vuie 'Srahum"] outside.

"Engineer Srahum. This is Science Officer Bella Rimini from the Gossamer. We have you on the station's cam network and we'll be guiding you out to the tower from here."

The woman turned around and nodded to the station's crew and her task-droids. Then she returned her eyes to view screen and it's camera feed. Touching her ear once again.

"Engineer Srahum. Head up the ring past the sensor array. You're looking for the large tower with the blue docking lights. The admin panel should be at the base of the tower's exterior. You should be able to see it from there. Stay safe and let me know when you've found the panel access. Rimini out."

She let go of her earpiece and tapped the computer panel in front of her. Switching easily between cameras on the station's exterior. So far, so good.

.

 

[Nida Perl]

The Gossamer—Supply Closet

“Fifty-two, fifty-three, fifty-four…”

The supply room had been jam-packed with all manner of provisions, many of them deemed necessary for this journey. The young healer was one of two medics on duty, so it was important that they took proper stock of their supplies and used them wisely. The manifest had listed Nida as a medical officer, but that term implied some measure of power or rank, neither of which she felt she had.

Nervous as ever, she’d holed herself up in a cramped room and set to work taking inventory. It was a menial task that forced her to divert her attention away from the nerves causing her stomach to do flips. Oh, she’d flown plenty of times, but here she was without her mother, sister, or brother. Venturing into the Nagai Trade Spine of the Outer Rim in a colonization mission with a motley crew. Yula would have been so proud, if slightly horrified for her baby sister’s safety.

“Fifty…” Her voice paused, already lowered softly so as to not attract any attention from passers-by. Lowering the bacta stim into its box, she sighed in frustration. This was the third time she’d forgotten her place in counting, so Nida simply grumbled to herself and started over.

“One, two, three…”

 

[Atlas Drake]

Mission: Determine the Best Course
Location: Gossamer Bridge, Captain's Office

---

"...it will mean rationing what remains and delays while we scavenge along the Maccabree border for resources. Mister Corek continues to report shortages in our supply inventory, I'd suspect a mynock infestation of our own but there are no other obvious signs of tampering. I've told him to have his fellow security officers keep an eye out for now ([member="Yusuf Dar"]), however I'm concerned-"

A glance at the nearby chronometer made him pause.

"End personal log," Captain Drake recited, and the holopad in front of him stopped recording.

He still had a few minutes before he would be late for his own strategy session, but Atlas had subconsciously kept himself sequestered away from the crew either in his quarters or the astrometrics lab, studying his own notes on the previous expedition for the dozenth time and making last minute adjustments here and there. They had been together months, and still his fellow explorers were strangers to him. No doubt many of them felt that way, the prolonged isolation of hyperspace travel did funny things to a sentient being's willingness to socialize, but as the leader of this voyage he should be striving to set a better example.

It was a short walk from his office to the main ready room, and he resolved to get an early start. With a smile and a nod to each of the officers on the current bridge shift, including [member="Tera Highwind"], he passed by the turbolifts on the way where he encountered [member="Kirie Ito"].

"Miss Ito," Atlas fell into step alongside the young comm officer. This wasn't a military operation, so despite his own standing in the Kathol Navy the captain had dropped all pretense of rank among his officers. Only he and his second in command Dax, who the crew had taken to calling Commander Fyre, were referred to as anything other than mister or miss.

The ready room was just large enough to fit a conference table with space enough for ten or so officers to sit comfortably. At the center of the table there was a holodisplay terminal which allowed them to project relevant mission data such as system maps or starship schematics for mission briefings. Only [member="Bryce Bantam"] had arrived before him, but he was certain the others would be along shortly. The meeting wasn't scheduled for another fifteen minutes or so.

"Mister Bantam," ordinarily he would have preferred to address Bryce by his honorific as a Coalition Marshal, but he did not want to give the appearance of favoritism among the crew, many of whom were foreign nationals, "Punctual as always."

Taking a seat at the head of the conference table, he set down a small stack of holopads and began rifling through them to ensure they were properly organized. Everything about the Maccabree suggested they were an aggressive species, antagonistic towards strangers, but records from the Merill expedition indicated they might be willing to negotiate if the Gossamer could provide them some valuable technology in trade. It was a calculated risk, but the alternative of circumventing their territory would mean adding weeks to their journey, weeks they would be burning additional supplies. Maccabree space was not vast, but positioned as it was on the edge of the spiral arm it was the closest gateway to Firefist.

"We'll wait for the others to begin," Atlas said at last, glancing up now to make eye contact with Bryce and Kirie, "It's almost hard to believe that after all this time, we're just a few days away. Ready to start exploring?"

 

[Vuie 'Srahum]

LOCATION: Silk Holdings Station; EVA

"'Srrahum copy," Vuie confirmed over her mic. She peered around the emotionless structures of the station, panels gleaming in the light from a nearby star.

Finally she spied the top of the tower, a little past the sensor array that Science Officer Rimini had said would be there. Vuie could make out the faint glow of blue lights from the tower, confirming it was indeed the one she needed to get to. Using the maintenance rungs along the station's hull, she pulled her way through space towards her objective. Without much delay, Vuie found herself looking at the fueling tower jutting out from the relatively flat station exterior. The docking lights were clearly visible now and shone a cool blue hue onto the surfaces surrounding them; a small panel lay near the base...hopefully the one she needed to get to.

Planting her feet against the station, Vuie pushed hard with some force and shot herself towards the tower. Gently floating along, she had a great view of everything and began subconsciously evaluating the integrity of the station's exterior. Spying some carbon scoring, she took mental note and decided to investigate that upon her visit to the maintenance panel. Slowing her glide with her jetpack, Vuie grabbed a nearby bar and positioned herself in front of the panel before activating the magnets her boots, securing her to the station.

"At panel now," she barked over the comms, simultaneously throwing the panel open.

Vuie scanned over the access panel, but there was no indication of failure anywhere, with exception of a small light that would indicate that the automated systems are operational. She snatched a small tool from her kit, and unscrewed the interface plate, and gently pulled it away from the panel. Circuitry ran back and forth between the interface and the relays, but again, nothing seemed out of order. Vuie prodded and felt for loose or damaged wires to no avail. It became obvious to her that the problem lay elsewhere.

"Prroblem not here," she spoke again, "'Srrahum check otherr arrea."

Haphazardly closing the panel, Vuie deactivated her boots, and made her way towards the carbon scoring she had spied just a little earlier. It was on the corner of the station, she could make out what looked to be two or three marks where some gunfire must have struck the surface. Making her way closer though, Vuie noticed that the damage was much worse than it appeared. On the other side, was a very large hole where some type of explosive ordnance must have made contact. She could see some pipes amongst other wiring and similar internals....Vuie could only hope that it was only the automation which had suffered from the damaged hull.

Vuie took a snapshot with her HUD of the damaged components and sent them to the Gossamer, typing an accompanying message.

Hull damaged.
Automation repairable.
Unknown pipes damaged.
Inquire > fuel pressurization pipes?

Vuie followed up over the comms, "Big prroblem, rread myessage." She hoped Rimini would tell her that the damaged pipes were not the ones to pressurize the fuel. While it could be a simple fix, if the pipes were pressurized when the damage was done, they might not be able to transport the fuel from the station back to the Gossamer...at least, not without spending valuable time and resources coming up with a solution.

[member=Atlas Drake] | [member="Bella Rimini"]

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Sometimes it was easier to just go your own way. Not that Kaia Starchaser was leaving her post, no never that. She was a Starchaser, that meant she had duty to the galaxy, or something. Duty to space lanes? But when she heard about the Flight of the Gossamer, that was something that dinged into her mind, in the most ancient and natural feeling for anyone who was part of her line.
Exploration.

She had heard there was recruitment and had signed up, offering her services as a pilot and a navigator. She had the Force, and with who she was, it meant she could get a ship through just about anything.

Well, she hoped. The Gossamer so far had spent time in hyperspace and now it was coming to Besh. And it was such a large ship… Still, the dark haired Starchaser was making her way up to the bridge. Seemed [member="Tera Highwind"] was already here.

“Whats it looking like out there?” She ran a hand through her long hair to tie it back as she took a seat at the Navigation Board.

 

[Bella Rimini]

​

Silk Holdings Station
Repair Fuel System p2

Bella stood over the shoulder of a crewmember, watching his screen. From her position on the Silk Holdings command deck she still couldn't see what [member="Vuie 'Srahum"] was looking at. The station's camera network obviously couldn't capture everything. So it seems they were still in the dark about a hole in their station's hull. Bella pursed her lips when Vuie didn't immediately describe what was happening. She was kind of hoping the engineer would either solve the problem immediately or tell the command crew how they could help. Then suddenly her phone beeped. Incoming message from the Gossamer. So she pulled it up.

"Ah. Okay." She nodded to the message and it's attached image. This, she could work with.

"C-70. Take a look at this image. Can you tell if this damaged section in the picture is connected to our fuel problem?"

A tall saucer-headed droid lumbered over and peered down. Scratching it's dome with a shrug,

~ "Uh? How should I know?" ~

Bella closed her eyes and shrugged. Ugh. Apparently a hole in the station's hull was the least of their problems now. Bleh.

"Right. Okay. Plan B. ...C-70. Pull up the diagnostics of this station's electrical system again. ...Good. Now run that scan. I want to see the problem on this end too. I need to know where that hole is and what it broke."

The droid returned to his station and ran the scan. Meanwhile, Bella touched her ear to talk to [member="Vuie 'Srahum"] again,

"Engineer Srahum. We can't identify those pipes from here. The computer still says that everything is fine with the refueling system. Just like the admin panel you looked at. So, I'm going to call up the station's digital map and run a local diagnostic for electrical faults in that section. Should give us a better idea of whats busted down there and where we need to look to fix it. Meanwhile, I need you to either identify what those pipes are for manually or return to the airlock for resupply. After all. You'll need a metallic patch kit and a slinky to fix that piping anyway."

~ "Actually!" C-70 jumped up with delight, "We can send out the repair kit with a Ball Drone. Deliver it right to her. She won't have to keep going back and forth between the station's interior and the outer hull that way. Saves time. Less radiation that way too." ~

"Good. Excellent." Bella exclaimed. Then touched her earpiece again, "Scratch that last one Srahum. The command crew is going to send out a Ball Drone to deliver the supplies to you directly. Hold your position and the supplies will be out directly. Bella out."

Bella sighed and stood up straight. Towering over the computer console. She watched slowly as the computer continued to search the whole station for broken parts and faults. Very soon, they would know else was broken down there. But until then? Well. Bella just hoped that Engineer Srahum was in the mood for patching pipes in zero G.

.

 

[Samara Raine]

Gossamer​

Main Engine Room​

___________________________​

​

When Cinara wasn't in the Gossamer's hangar maintenance bay (her favored spot) working on the starfighters and shuttles maintaining their readiness, the flight engineer could be found in the ship's engine room.

With [member="Vuie 'Srahum"] out making an EVA repair of the Silk Holding Station's seemingly damaged fuel rigging, the mechanic had been tasked to change out all the fuel rod filters, lube, and oil as well in anticipation of a new supply of the precious mojo juice the Lotekk-class Deep Space Transport would need to continue on their exploration journey as planned. Though they had fuel converters on board, it would be best to use the 'good stuff' as long as possible to get the best performance out of the ion engines.

It by far was not Cinara's favorite job to do as it was messy and time consuming, but the born greasy monkey still did the mundane chore with pride, skill, and efficiency the Mando woman was known for. Well, when the blonde wasn't drinking, and even then she was damn good... at many things.

"Engineering to Bridge... " Cin keyed over the comm from the work station. "Fuel Core maintenance complete. Green lights across control board. Ready to receive fuel at will."

[member="Atlas Drake"]​

​

 

[Jak Skirata]

Objective: Solve the Mynock Problem
Location: On the Station

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Qbed8OuyXdI

A garbled and especially pissy stream of words came out over Fives' com. The words weren't intelligible, but the accent and aggressive tone at least made the language easy to identify. A stream of Mando'a curses came over the com before the same voice switched to basic.

"Hurry up and open the door! Be ready to shoot, we've got company!" A click, and the voice was gone.

Somewhere on the other side of the airlock that connected the Gossamer and the deep space station Davin and a small group that comprised the remnants of the first team were sprinting through the halls. Their boots clacked on the aged durasteel with a cadence that expressed a sense of dread. Shrieks from the mynocks echoed behind the group as they rounded a corner. One of the crew tripped on himself and fell over with a shout. Cursing under his breath Davin, who had been bringing up the rear, allowed himself to slide around the corner, leaned over mid step, grabbed the man by his shirt, and tossed him back to his feet.

"Go!" he hissed between clenched teeth, though his expression was hidden behind the T-shaped visor of his helmet. The man nodded and ran after the others. Another Mandalorian waited to receive the crew mate and took up Davin's position guarding the group's rear. Davin on the other hand was slammed into the wall by the thick, long tail of one of the mynocks. Another, unable to stop its forward momentum in time, slammed into them as well. He was in a mess of tentacles, teeth, and fleshy wings. Davin struggled beneath the weight to reach his lightsaber hanging on his belt. When he felt his hands wrap around the hilt he smirked and in a flurry of green the mynocks fell in hissing thick chunks around him. One of them managed a dying scream before another plunge of Davin's blade ended it.

A tingle in his spine and he knew it wasn't over though. Another pair of mynocks had picked up the chase further down the hall and were headed right for Fives' group at the door.

[member="Subject 5"]

 

[Kyle Farnes]

The Mandalorian followed [member="Cinara Vencu"] here. It was one of those things. They were… what, maybe bonded now? And well, he had her back, she had his back. That was why he boarded the Gossamer, and sign up as a shuttle pilot. He was used to flying his Pursuer, and he knew that a larger vessel would do him better than a fighter. But for now, he was just kind of… messing around.

Blame having a nap and then trying to find Vencu for a bit of R&R and stretching. He stepped in as she was calling the bridge. He yawned before shaking his head and giving the other Mando a smile

“Did I miss the fun? Or is that just the start?”

[member="Cinara Vencu"]

 

[Vuie 'Srahum]

LOCATION: Silk Holdings Station; Fuel Charger Unit Ext; EVA

Vuie grabbed the torn edges of the blast hole and pulled herself in closer to the damage. It appeared that the siding at taken the brunt of the explosion, though it didn't stop the pipes and wiring to get blown to bits along with it. She spied a bright yellow wire, which she knew many shipbuilders use as diagnostic signal wires...though this one had been split along with the accompanying pipe. Vuie scanned over the exposed internals, but couldn't seem to find the other half of the wire that lead to the admin panel.

Before she was able to do anything, Rimini's voice crackled over her comms and informed Vuie of the incoming supplies, "'Srrahum underrstyand."

Vuie, continuing her own investigation, pushed herself to an adjacent panel of the damaged one and clipped herself onto one of the maintenance rungs. She equipped her fusion cutter and started making a small hole. A small light show began as she was slicing through the siding of the station and before long a small, crudely cut plate had separated itself. Pulling it away, she saw exactly what she was looking for...the diagnostics wire had attached itself to another after the explosion, giving the admin panel a false positive. Feeding the wire back through to the other side, she was able to fuse the diagnostics wires together again.

Vuie happily chimed in on the mic, "'Srrahum fix diagnostyics." Planting her boots against the station, she locked them in place and awaited the supplies, "Wait supplies now."


[member="Bella Rimini"]

 

[Bella Rimini]

​

Silk Holdings Station
Repair Fuel System p3

Bella and C-70 talked and deliberated over their baffling computer screens upstairs. Meanwhile, [member="Vuie 'Srahum"] was still busy patching wire as a small drone floated out of the station's mech bay. The tiny round robot darted through space easily enough. Even carrying a very large supply box , many times it's own size, in it's tiny metal arms. The benefits of zero gravity I suppose. Weight isn't as pronounced in space as it in normal gravity. Go figure.

The tiny droid zipped around the station's hull until it found Vuie. Then it floated close by and beeped a happy beep,

~ "Special delivery. Sign here to accept the package please." ~

Holding out a mysterious third arm, the spherical robot extended a small clipboard with a yellow delivery note aboard. Alas for poor Vuie. There was no pen nor stylus around for signing. Hm? Oh dear.

Elsewhere,

Back inside the station, Bella and C-70 returned to scratching their heads. Vuie connecting that wire had changed things. But, no. Not specifically for the better.

~ "Oh dear. It appears there was something very wrong down there after all." ~

"Yes C. Most definitely. Here. Look. See these new readings. We've got blown fuses and bad backups in sectors six and seven."

The droid nodded it's approval.

~ "Oh yes. To get the fuel system working again. We'll need to patch that pipe, replace the fuses, and rewire the boxes back to their primaries in sectors six and seven." ~

"Do you think that will fix it?" Bella probed.

The robot shrugged.

~ "Sorry human. It's just a start. After all. We won't know if the system is responsive until we try it." ~

Bella nodded. One step at a time, I guess. She turned away from the glowing screens of the command deck and touched her ear,

"Engineer Srahum. Good news. Reconnecting that wire gave us a better picture up here. We've got blown fuses and bad backup grids in sectors six and seven of the station. Which, is that area you're floating over right now. So good work finding that blast hole."

She turned and scratched her chin,

"Anyway. Go ahead and patch that pipe with the supplies while you're out there. I'll take a repair droid with me down to maintenance and start replacing the fuses. Hopefully by the time you're done with that pipe C-70 will have the backup grids ready to switch back over to primaries. Then we'll go from there. ...ETA. Mmm. Thirty minutes. Rimini out."

She untapped her earpiece and sighed. Hopefully the hard part was over now. Now on to the busy work.

.

 

[Noah Corek]

[member="Subject 5"] - [member="Atlas Drake"]

Noah raised an eyebrow and rolled his eyes at the kid who was twirling his blaster pistol around his finger like some old-school Outer Rim gunslinger, of course these actions were hidden from view under the helmet of his armor. Turning away from the kid Noah checked his gear, even though this was just dealing with a mynock infestation there was still a degree of being prepared one needed. Shotgun? Ready and loaded with birdshot. Knives? Freshly sharpened and sheathed on his shoulder and the side of his shin. Pistols? Loaded with rubber bullets, to reduce the danger of possible ricochets. Finally, his Honor Blade? Freshly sharpened, oiled and sheathed on the small of his back.

"Ready? It's a bunch of mynocks. It'll be a good warm-up I guess." Noah chuckled as he began to check the magazine pouches on his armor. Most of them were filled with birdshot but he had a few magazines of double ought buck and slugs and even a couple magazines of explosive shells. Noah looked up at the kid and chuckled. "Kingdom come huh? Yeah that's a good way to cause a breach in the cargo bay and space us all. Put your blaster on stun kid."