“That bottle sittin’ by your bedside. Real good story teller, and loud too. I heard it from here.”
Brella reached under the controls and snagged a shot glass and her whiskey, holding out the glass to the crew, “No more than five shots of this size a day, unless we’re in port. That goes for everyone.”
Pouring herself a shot for good cheer, she set the ship on auto, getting it up to speed for a warp-punch. She sighed happily and waved the shot around, “Tighten in, we’ll punch here in about 30 seconds.”
(A warp punch is the sudden shot into hyper-existence/speed.)
Zav chuckled softly, and put on his seatbelt, stretching for a moment. He wondered if and when the other two crewmen would comment on his race. Or look at him askance, narrow their eyes, clutch belongings closer. He sighed softly, drumming his fingers on his pant leg.
20, 19, 18, 17…
Brella threw back the shot and and laughed before buckling up. She looked over her shoulder at her crew. A fighter, a tech, and a tiger.
Tack on the butterfly, and you've got the beginnings of a bad joke and a helluva ride, Brella thought with a smile, We're gonna make a difference. Straighten up.
12, 11, 10…
Shay said nothing, but the grin that appeared across his lips promised a bit more than innocent mayhem. His people were nomadic warriors, yes, but that didn't mean that you couldn't have a little fun along the way. And something was telling him that this little trip wasn't going to go exactly as anyone had planned.
He buckled himself into his chair with practiced ease, excitement beginning to course through his blood. He was ready.
9, 8, 7…
Her sister’s voice rang in her ears. Be the best, She had said, You’re already the best sister. Now be the best Mechanist.
Little Eliziethara, I will. I’ll be the best Mechanist, and you’ll be right there beside me, soon enough.
Brella closed her eyes and continued counting in her head.
6, 5, 4…
Zav was silent, watching and waiting. He had done these before, of course he had. Just not…from the cockpit. Usually from the belly of the ship, pressed against the wall because no one wanted to give a seat to a Sha'liss.
The Calgrien was silent as well, although his eyes were fixed on the stars outside the ship. His fingers flexed once and then twice as the countdown reached it's completion and his lips stretched into a wider grin over his fangs. "Here we go!" He crowed.
"Three! Two! One! Punching!"
The world went white. The chairs of the cockpit locked down automatically as Brella and her crewmates were hard-pressed into them. With the small console on the armrest Brella reduced the speed a bit, and maintained the field of warp.
Eventually the white began to gain streaks of color, and the crash-seats released the crewmates, allowing them all to rise up and stretch.
Brella began to laugh quietly to herself as she turned towards the pole connecting the workshop deck to the cockpit.
Zav made a face. He wasn't used to being in a chair for the punch. He was used to being huddled down in a room, pressed against the wall. He sighed softly. Oh well. He'd have to get used to this crew being different. He glanced around at the group, stretching lazily with a soft yawn.
(Oh shit. School really does suck.)
(Is everyone still here?)
(indeed school does. I am, idk about anyone else XD)
(Glad you’re keeping it light…. I was having a stroke when I realized I had left this for so long….)
( :) it's totally fine, don't worry too much. I think I've seen @FaeEris around the forums, idk about the other person)
(also I gtg to bed now, so I should be back sometime tomorrow)
(I am present! :D Although I no longer suffer the long irritating days of school, I do sympathize.)
(Hey guys, I'll be here but ve very spotty because Un8 is about to start and I'm really stressed.)
Brella slid down the pole to land in the workshop deck. Now that they were on their way, Brella could get on to her project. Her special Mechanist project.
Cloaking.
The concept had been the subject of several scientists’ research, but none of them realized that the answer was staring them right in the face. So, Brella decided that it would be her to hold the achievement in her hand. And she’d add a special Mechanist touch, as well. She hadn’t figured that part out yet. But she would.
Zav hummed softly as he pulled something out from his bag, tapping at the older device. It was probably a good ten years old by now, but still worked well despite the cracks.
Iris looked at the map in her hand then at the navigation centre and sighed. It would be best to sleep for a trip of this length. She folded the large sheet and put it in one of the many pockets adorning her outfit before flying up to her quarters and resting.
Shay adjusted his chair into a more comfortable position. Opening up a compartment under his seat he took out a few knives and a whet stone. He chose the smallest of the knives, tutting disapprovingly at the edge before meticulously beginning to sharpen it against the stone. Shay did this before every mission as a way to relax, he just couldn't help himself.
Brella began to feel some form of energy thrumming upstairs. She nodded approvingly, the crew was keeping busy. The scraping of a whetstone followed, then yawning joined. Around her the machines of the workshop began silently whirring to life as energy into them from Brella’s pink energy wings.
She opened her cabinet of projects and took a small chip from one of the drawers, and set to work on it on a nearby, with a brand new set of electrical tools and components by her side.
Zav hummed softly as he kept working on the tablet, sending out notes and such, encrypting the data before he sent it. God, this stupid ass. I've already sent him everything he needs, but now I have to walk him through it, too?? And he calls himself a hacker…
(Door creaks open Hello?)
