Rusty
Purveyor of Fine Weaponry
The conference room was large, but somehow cluttered. Crates of datapads, stacks upon stacks of the things, lined the walls. Just about every conceivable bit of scientific knowledge gathered in the last 3,000 years and not buried behind corporate or government firewalls had been collected for this meeting. Loose sheets of flimsi were scattered across the table in the center of the room, to the point that they were in serious danger of covering up the holoprojector in the center. A dry erase smartboard on the wall was covered with tiny figures and equations, while another on an easel was densely covered with meticulously scrawled diagrams of weapons and technology.
Rusty had been by himself in this room for nearly a week, his mechanical body working nonstop. He never chased any one idea for more than a few hours, instead letting his mind wonder from concept to concept. As Koko, his assistant, had pointed out, he'd been working far too hard on the business end of things as of late, and it had been ages since he really sat down and designed anything along the lines of the crazy early products that had put RCFC on the map. And after the falling out with the Captain and the incident with the pirates, he was sorely overdue for a break from reality.
Koko, however, was pragmatic to the extreme. She knew she could lock her boss in a room for a week and extract dozens of workable concepts from the aftermath, and she'd do exactly that with the notes. But she also knew that, if RCFC was going to keep growing, they needed a big project, something that could showcase just how mad their chief designed, owner, and pet curmudgeon really was.
To that end, she had called in some experts. Maybe expert was the wrong word. Mad scientists was closer to the truth, though if you really wanted to get technical, they were more mentally unbalanced engineers than mad scientists. Engineers built things, while scientists mainly stuck to experiments. She was hoping to lock enough crazy in the room with the boss to congeal into something wonderfully, dangerously insane to show the galaxy. RCFC's next big project would be born here. Hopefully it wouldn't die here as well.
[member="Grudge The Grutt"]
[member="Ostanes"]
[member="Olom Grihk"]
Rusty had been by himself in this room for nearly a week, his mechanical body working nonstop. He never chased any one idea for more than a few hours, instead letting his mind wonder from concept to concept. As Koko, his assistant, had pointed out, he'd been working far too hard on the business end of things as of late, and it had been ages since he really sat down and designed anything along the lines of the crazy early products that had put RCFC on the map. And after the falling out with the Captain and the incident with the pirates, he was sorely overdue for a break from reality.
Koko, however, was pragmatic to the extreme. She knew she could lock her boss in a room for a week and extract dozens of workable concepts from the aftermath, and she'd do exactly that with the notes. But she also knew that, if RCFC was going to keep growing, they needed a big project, something that could showcase just how mad their chief designed, owner, and pet curmudgeon really was.
To that end, she had called in some experts. Maybe expert was the wrong word. Mad scientists was closer to the truth, though if you really wanted to get technical, they were more mentally unbalanced engineers than mad scientists. Engineers built things, while scientists mainly stuck to experiments. She was hoping to lock enough crazy in the room with the boss to congeal into something wonderfully, dangerously insane to show the galaxy. RCFC's next big project would be born here. Hopefully it wouldn't die here as well.
[member="Grudge The Grutt"]
[member="Ostanes"]
[member="Olom Grihk"]