Elite roleplay: The docks

THE DOCKS (Dockyards)

The Docks is where all pilots berth their ships. It is the first place that pilots find themselves upon landing their ship. Docking and launching is controlled by the Citi Gateway’s Traffic Controllers while each individual dock is controlled by a dockmaster and a team of orange clad dock crew workers.

The Docks is a sparse and desolate, 0.1G environment, littered with service vehicles, cranes and landing pads. While cool, the air is dry and lightly filled with the smell of burnt metal and ship grease. Public Service Announcements blare across the the docks reminding all pilots of station regulations. The docks contain 45 individual ship docks, several warehouses storing massive tank of hydrogen fuel, and standard shipping containers of cargo, the dock’s traffic control tower and the local pilot’s market which resides in one of the warehouses.

Ship docks
Each specific dock has a landing pad, a ship hangar and adjoining terminal. In each terminal there is a passenger waiting area, the dockmaster’s control tower and several dock crew vehicle bay.

Warehouses
If the docks were already unpopulated, warehouses would be completely vacant of anyone if not for a small handful of security staff. Warehouses are completely automated and highly guarded facilities as they contain massive amounts of valuable and flammable material.
"Loitering is a crime punishable by death" - Station Announcements

Pilot's Market
The pilot’s market is best described as a tourist trap for pilots. Every person who’s not a pilot is trying to guile a pilot to part with their credits.

"The station administrators would like to remind all pilots that transactions in the pilot’s market are not protected by Citi Gateway or The Bank of Zaonce" - station announcements

General Roleplay Etiquette:

1. Control only the actions of your own character(s). (AKA: God Mode)
This doesn't matter how small the action is, even if it is as simple as scratching their nose or a direct reaction to something else that just happened. This applies to everything from casual conversation to full blown fight scenes. If you'd like someone to do something specific, PM that person, however keep in mind they are completely within their rights to say no. Especially if said action is inappropriate to their character and/or circumstance.

2. Don't brute force your way into another persons RP.
Approaching with a conversation starter is fine, or indeed some other small action. However charging in, guns blazing and disrupting the flow of another person/pair/groups conversation/arc is about as rude as doing so in real life. If something is going on that you'd like to participate in, be subtle about it. Put out a gentle hook for someone to take, but again, be aware that said hook may not be taken. If you fear it was simply unnoticed, PM the person or people it concerns. Or even leave a message in the OOC forums.

3. Good grammar and spelling is preferred.
We're not asking you to be perfect, but please at least demonstrate willingness. no1 iz gna tak u srsly usng txt spk. There's a wide variety of people here, many who speak English as a second, or even third language. There are even some with varying degrees of dyslexia and/or likely other issues that affect spelling/grammar. We accept them all here. However, people who aren't accepted, are those unwilling to accept polite correction. Remember that even a small thing like the placement of a comma, or the wrong use of there/their/they're can completely change the definition of an entire sentence.

4. Accept constructive criticism gracefully and politely.
If someone spots an issue with your writings, they may wish to help you improve that writing. They may do this through PM or even publicly air their thoughts on the OOC forum. If they have taken the time to be polite and explain what is wrong with your writing, the best way to behave is to respond in kind, using the same manner they have approached you with. It means they have taken an active interest in what you have written and wish to see more. Basically, you have a fan!

5. Don't take the actions or opinions of things done IN RP, to be directly relevant to the writers thoughts or opinions.
Basically, if some ones character calls your character a jackass, it doesn't mean the writer thinks you are a jackass. It's a ROLE they are PLAYING. Watch a movie. The argument between the characters isn't an argument between the actors involved. The same applies here.

6. It's not a popularity contest.
Your RP might be bustling with participants. You have 3 people off station in a fire fight, while another 2 are infiltrating the darkest areas of the station, meanwhile a group of 4 others are tracking your movements in an effort to stop you. Good for you, I'm sure it will be a thrilling read! But you know what? Sometimes the absolute BEST work, comes from two RP characters having a simple heart to heart. Both are valid, both are great, but NEITHER is categorically better than the other. Period.


Inara RP Etiquette:

1. Respect the setting and rules of the universe.
Inara is an Elite: Dangerous 3rd Party Tool. The RP Forums are set in the Elite: Dangerous universe. Elite: Dangerous has rules, as any fictional universe does from Lord of the Rings to Star Wars, or Game of Thrones to Star Trek. If you intend to RP within the Elite: Dangerous universe you are bound by the history and rules of that universe. Simply put, this RP forum is bound by the same rules as the game, so if it can't be done in the game, it is not permitted here. This applies to things from a 50Ly Jump Range on a normal, unmodified Sidewinder, to the destruction of entire stations.

2. Respect the characters created by others.
We have a wide variety of characters already here. It's expected that some will be similar, just as it's expected that two characters will be vastly different. Opinions of each persons character will naturally be varied, but all are valid provided they follow the rules of the universe. You are allowed to interact with, or avoid interaction with, any character in the RP forums. But you have no right to belittle others for their creation. You are not an authority figure on writing, nor are you directly affected by another persons imagination. You might not like it, but you MUST respect it.

3. Be caught up on current events before joining in.
You need basic things like character descriptions in order to interact with them. You also need to know what's going on in the surrounding areas. This is simply because the people you are hoping to RP with, might be gearing up to something that you might not want to be part of. Or simply that the most recent post, out of context, could leave a different impression on the goings on than if you gather that context. We don't expect you to read every single post from the beginning of the forums, just enough to get that basic understanding.

4. Either subscribe to, or frequently check, the Roleplay: Q&A and OOC forum.
People may be discussing something relevant to you there, or even discussing you directly. Perhaps someone asked what the general consensus on the existence or non-existence of a certain object. Or we're just chatting about random gibberish. Either way, be aware of it and use it. If you're unsure about something, such as how guns would look and or behave, or even the music selection, use the OOC forum to ask. We don't have all of the answers, but the collective knowledge and logic usually allows us to overcome an issue and come to a decision on what should be allowed. Frontier Developments, and even David Braben himself, don't have the answers to every possible question that can be asked.

5. Large Scale events exploding out of nowhere are a complete no go.
We get it. Everyone wants their character to be noticed and for people to be tripping over themselves to interact with them. In some audiences, an introduction involving you blasting in for landing in a fiery wreckage of a ship, before cart wheeling out and sword fighting 35 Ninjas before whisking off with the local celebrity for a glorious night of passion, is in fact, cool. This is not one of those audiences. It is generally considered better to build your character up slowly over time. Eventually, you might even have a legitimate excuse to fight those Ninjas. Maybe even with other RP participants by your side.

6. Perfect characters are boring.
The point of a character arc, is that it is in fact, an arc shape. One who is morally unquestionable, fully kitted out and an infinite fountain of knowledge, cannot go through an arc. Give your character flaws. Be it a tendency towards befriending the wrong people, or a bad knee that frequently gives out at inopportune moments. It gives readers something to latch onto and empathise with. You can give your character exceptional capabilities at something, but it requires balance. She's a damn good pilot with no equal, but can't drive an SRV for peanuts. It can lead to some very interesting moments between characters, be it heartfelt or comedic.


Other Notes:
It should be noted that there can be exceptions to these points. For example, good grammar when a character is speaking is actually rare. Few people in real life actually speak with perfect eloquence after all. Or previously arranged actions during a fight scene, such as someone stumbling back after a punch. What's key to remember is context.

All in all, remember this is purely for fun. We have some seriously talented writers here, and others whose writing history starts and ends at high school. But many are willing to help out in whatever way they can. All it takes is that you ask nicely.

Also keep in mind that many people who RP here, also have logbook stories related to the character, or characters, they portray. If it looks like there's an "in joke" going on that you're unsure of, it's probably in those.

In fact, some users have even gone to the trouble of creating "alts" to RP with. If you read back far enough, it's usually pretty clear who has and hasn't, and which ones are the "alts". It's therefore not unheard of to see the apparent seizing of control of other characters. If you do spot one, point it out in the OOC section. If intervention is needed, it will be sorted quickly and (hopefully) politely.

Most, if not all RP participants here have Logbook stories pertaining to their character(s). These are for the reading pleasure of anyone who wishes to do so. While it can be useful to read them in order to gain a bit of backstory on a character you wish to interact with, it should not be assumed that your character shares that knowledge. Within the E:D Universe, these Logbooks either don't exist, or are private diaries kept by the characters. Either way, without explicit statements to say otherwise from the writer, your interactions should reflect that your character is in the dark about any information you, the writer/reader, have gained from reading the stories.
Cartlidge1000
05 Nov 2016, 12:59am
Cartlidge and Ten finally run into Nick as he struggled to keep from getting lost again. Now reunited, the three made their way to Nick's Eagle, careful not to draw any attention to themselves.

Once they were on the pad, Nick climbed inside to get the ship up and running while Cartlidge watched for any unwanted eyes.
Luke3107
08 Nov 2016, 8:11pm
It had taken a while, but Luke had finally marched himself... No... Stomped his way through the crowds of Citi Gateway and arrived back at his Asp Explorer, the Insert Name Here. Punching in the access code to the pad, he continued his angry walk up the access ramp, threw his jacket into a locker and slumped to sit down onto his bed.

Reaching across to his cabinet by the bed, he pulled out a half bottle of Scotch and cracked it open. He was about to grab a glass but realised he wouldn't need it, instead opting to drink directly from the bottle.

A few hours later the Asp departed the station with a very inebriated CMDR at the helm.
Red Jester (Heathen)
16 Nov 2016, 5:40pm
The door opened to the python where the young man and the group of unruly people disappeared into.

"I... I wasn't expecting her to be in that way. What happened to her?" Tove looked down on the young but tired face in front of her, wondering whether someone so innocent could do such a thing.

Muninn just stood there and traced the tattoos on his arms, surveying the docks around him. "I needed answers, she was going to give them to me. Problem?"

Tove stood aback and grabbed the 20 something by the arm. "We're going for a drink."
User1355
19 Nov 2016, 8:22am
The Seren Du makes a gentle landing on pad thirty-three; exhaust gasses hiss as the docking clamps secure the Python freighter, before it descends into the hangar below.
Rex Snipes
22 Nov 2016, 7:07am
Upon securing the Darkfire, "Deadeye" makes a full sweep of the Corvette and instructs the XO to be on alert for their contact. I'm gonna go get a drink. He kept his wits about him, never having been on Citi, but pulled up a local map on his helmet HUD. These damn stations all look the same on the outside, but they suck inside. Walking down one of the corridors, he saw a sign for the INGABA. He headed in, thinking it wasn't the worst place he's ever had a drink.
User41023
23 Nov 2016, 9:52am
Core Dynamics, Foxtrot, Alpha Li-- , with a annoyed, quick flip, Falter cuts the hails from Flight Control, and starts the decent towards the port,

The left holographic panel, quips up with a display of Eden, as she shows her disdain for Falter's lack of patience, she understood, probably better than anyone one person, his lack of trust and overall disdain for regulation, but still decided to show off her newly updated, firm-warred personailty,

"You know XV," her hologram daudling in place, much akin to an energetic, child, than the woman she always portrayed herself as, "a little trust, will eventually work out if you give people the benefit of the doubt? Open up, the past is the past, ya' know?"
She remarked with a hint of playfulness in her tones.
Falter glances at the hologram, his heavily personalized, flight helm, showing no sign of his emotions; behind the black polarized HUD. He knew she meant well, but time never heals the sorrow or loss,
he spares a quick glance towards a picture obscured by the glare of the station.

With a slight, swish Anna Weisz, enters the cockpit area, and yawns, as she leans over the flight panel, "Here already, XV? Man, i wanted some more rest, pulled an all night' er, fixing that, busted antique rifle you own.
Eden twirled and danced excitedly as Falter, gracefully navigates the Firepray with ease, as it floats through the port towards a far pad.

"You never even told me what we were here for, XV, you'd think - as you're only crew member, and with our long work history and contract, you'd let me in on our regular routine schemes?" Anna quips as she flips through the holographic transactions pane, one hand poised on her hip, the other flitting back and forth between her tangled Blonde hair, and the list of oustanding contracts.

With a small lurch, the docking clamps lock the Firespray in place, and Falter cycles down the systems. With a quick, and fluid motion, he grabs his gear, and unpolarizes his helm,
"Anna, you are staying here, no gambling or misadventures this time, Eden, link with me, This job was by request."
Falter's quick and curt orders, were in step and stride while he worked his way down, through the belly of the ship., all the while Anna tagging along like a lost puppy.

As he decends the final steps out the gangwalk, he polarizing his helm again, and he spares a backwards glance, at the Firespray, its majestic Black and Red paint, standing in stark contrast to the bleak undertones of the staion.

As he walks briskly by the flight crew, swarming around the Firespray, Eden chimes one last time, "You are too nice to Anna you know, I know you already transferred her, her stipend, and we both know she can't sit still that woman." she sighs over audio in an attempt to be more human,
"but, we both knew the risks when we took this job, it's always hard, when 'She' asks you for favors, and of course you can never refuse. A gentleman to the end huh?"

Falter taps on his helm, as he wraps his long, ragged black cloak around him, and moves into the shadows, quick as the whipsers

Last edit: 23 Nov 2016, 11:36am
User4296
23 Nov 2016, 3:53pm
A white Cobra Mk. III with green markings slipped through the mailslot, and slowly made its way toward one of the docking pads. The ship appeared to be in bad shape: the right rear thruster was barely functional and occasionally sputtered out, and much of its paint job had worn away. Every system on the ship seemed to intermittently toss out a small shower of sparks. The most puzzling thing was that the hull was still fully intact - whatever had damaged the ship hadn't been caused by hostile weapons fire.

Finally, the reverse thrusters fired and brought the ship to a stop, where it hovered over its assigned pad for several long moments before it gently lowered itself onto the deck, and the docking clamps mercifully took hold of the ship. The repair crew for that pad quickly surrounded the vessel, and began trying to diagnose the full extent of the damage.
Stryker Aune
23 Nov 2016, 9:05pm
Stryker had work to do.

In the small work space on his Federal Drop Ship, he was building two small devices. He held the soldering gun in his hand as a word of smoke curled upward from a small circuit he was working on. The thing was done, and he placed the tiny tracking device inside. He closed it up, and tested it. He smiled.

He reached over and took a bite out of a protein bar he had picked up on Mars. The rep said that yellow was the best flavour and he decided to try it. That rep wasn't lying. Yellow was fantastic, and he hard a hard time putting it down.

Next he had to make modifications to the costume he bought. He pulled out a pair of scissors and started cutting away. He removed large swaths of the brown fabric, dumping them unceremoniously into the 0 g environment and they floated gracefully off.

The ship was in autopilot, and he felt the frame shift drive spool up. The ship lerched as it made another jump. He continued on with his modifications to the costume. Finally satisfied, he took it all to his quarters and stowed it, along with the newly concealed tracking bugs. He made his way up to the cock pit and took the command chair. The last few jumps were uninteresting.

He was in Inara. He plotted his course to Citi Gateway.

Why does it have to be so far away. he thought. Time passed and he dropped out of super cruise.

"Core Dynamics,  Sierra tango Romeo. You are cleared for landing pad 34, expect heavy traffic." Came the flight controllers voice.

Stryker guided the ship through the mailslot and landed with all the grace of an albatross.
Luke3107
23 Nov 2016, 10:08pm
The elevator slowed to a halt with a small clunk as the mag-locks activated, holding it in place as the door silently opened and the monotonous computerised voice chimed in. "Doors Open. Docks."

Lilith made sure to exit first, hoping that the bottleneck created by the door would slow any potential tails as the multiple passengers made their exit and split off in different directions. Making sure to walk quickly, she made her way down the corridoors towards pad 20 where her Python was parked.

Mentally cursing the security for confiscating her weapons. Without her guns and knives, she felt naked, but she was still capable of fighting bare handed if necessary.

Taking a look at the signs hanging from the roof, she spotted one that read "Pads 17-20" with an arrow pointing left and promptly dipped down the appropriate corridoor.

Last edit: 23 Nov 2016, 11:24pm
Isaiah Evanson
24 Nov 2016, 2:05am
As the doors parted, Isaiah made a mental note of the woman's appearance. Though he knew he might lose track of her in the bay itself, having a keen idea of what she looked like, as well as her general location, narrowed things down enough to make reacquiring her somewhat easy. He made no rush to exit from the elevator, going with the flow of traffic. He went in the opposite direction of her, heading along to where his own ship was berthed.

As the crowd dispersed, he made his way into the hangar where the Bloodfeather waited. The boarding ramp lowered from beneath the ship's fuselage, lights warming to his presence as he quickly surmounted the incline and entered the ship. Wasting no time, he went to the cargo hold and started pulling things from storage lockers: a set of three surveillance microdrones the size of thumbnails, flexcuffs, and other small odds and ends that a bounty hunter would find useful. 

He changed his clothes as well, going with something more subdued - a navy blue button-up shirt and grey trousers. Below the shirt he'd opted to wear a low-profile ballistic vest, just in case things got messy. A trauma kit was stowed away in one of his trouser pockets, 

Topping off the ensemble was a tiny earpiece that connected him directly to his ship's computer.

"Hello, sweetheart," he said calmly, tucking his sidearm holster back into his waistband.

"Hello, Commander," the ship replied in a cheerful but not-quite-human manner. "You have a new k-cast message from Caitlin Shaughnessy."

Huh. That's a new one.

"Play it," Isaiah said.

"Hey shithead, hope you're having fun wherever you are. Bored off my ass again, as usual. Hope you're staying out of trouble - though I think I know you well enough by now to know you're probably eyeball-deep in some action hero bullshit. Whatever. Don't get killed. Talk soon."

He managed a half-smirk - he and Cait had a mutual antagonism that punctuated their interactions. She'd tried to kill him once - in fact, that was how he'd lost the Dark Matters. Though they were both Elite, she had years of experience on him, and typically he was the one trying to keep up with her. 

"Would you like to send a reply?"

"Nah. Not now." Isaiah checked his handgun, making sure there was a round in the chamber and that his magazines were loaded to capacity. "Do me a favor though: check my current transactions. See the current task?"

"Yes."

"See if you can get access to station traffic control and monitor the comings and goings for me. Pull up facial recognition and tap into security cams if you find some wiggle room. Be discreet though."

"Unauthorized access of docking records and security feeds could incur fines."

"We'll pass those costs along to the employer. I just want as many eyes out there as possible looking for this woman. I'm going to send up a few drones too."

"Will this be done the easy way?" Although the ship was incapable of feeling or even reasoning beyond its algorithms, questions like that always reminded Isaiah that force was his last resort. Little things like that put him in a different state of mind.

"Hope so," Isaiah said, tucking the handgun into its holster and pulling the hem of his shirt down to cover it, leaving the cargo hold and descending the ramp. "I don't like getting my hands bloody if I can help it."

Last edit: 24 Nov 2016, 2:51am
Luke3107
24 Nov 2016, 4:17am
Keeping an eye on the people behind her, Lilith breathed a small sigh of relief as the small group from the elevator dispersed and she was left to wander the corridoor on her own.

*Still can't shake the feeling though, can you.* Lilith thought. Despite the complete absence of other people, she knew to trust her instincts. *It's not the last of it. Trouble is brewing...*

Reaching the sliding door to her pad with a big 20 splashed across it, she punched in her access code and they slid open, revealing her Python, The Spearhead, sitting peacefully. The station crew had completed the repairs and rearming, and although the refuel had surely also been finished, there were still several large pumps and cables attached to various ports on the underbelly.

Frustration welled up inside her, and several members of the station crew quickly buried themselves in odd jobs knowing full well what was coming. Approaching one of them, he quickly pointed in the direction of a more senior member dressed in cleaner overalls currently directing another, younger man towards another job. Assuming this was the Pads Foreman, she stomped over, her frustration visible both on her face and in her walk.

"You in charge??" She demanded, voice raised but not quite shouting.

"Yes Ma'am, we've been trying to contact you, there's a problem with your vessel." Replied the foreman, his calm indifference only winding Lilith up further.

"A problem... Really... You don't say!!" She scoffed, "And do I not pay you to FIX problems??"

"That you do Miss. But they still take time to fix. This one could take a while too I'm afraid." He responded, still calm.

"Hmph... Alright fine. What's the problem?" She huffed, raising her hands in frustration.

"Well, I don't know how familiar you are with FSD mechanics but I'm going to put this simply for you. Currently, your ship is pulling in too much fuel per jump. Normally there's a variation of between 0.2 and 0.5 Tons. However your ship is burning in excess of 1.5 Tons extra per jump. This can lead to severe malfunctions with the drive if you continue to use it. There are other factors at work here but I'd need to go into the science to explain them." Responded the foreman, barely breaking a sweat under Liliths cold hard stare.

"What if I want to leave right now?" Came her response.

"You can if you so wish, but it's a long wait for rescue if you drop out of Witchspace between systems" He replied matter of factly.

Contemplating for a moment at the choice laid before her, Lilith glanced around her. Each worker was seemingly very engrossed in their task. Obviously they had been watching and listening but didn't want to be seen to be doing so.

"Alright fine... How long?" She grumped.

"Around 3 to 4 hours, once we get the parts shipped in from Bachman Observatory. It's a local station but it could still be a while nonetheless. That's out of our control I'm afraid." Rattled off the foreman, apparently barely noticing Liliths attitude.

"Ok... Right... Whatever.... I'll be in my quarters..." Lilith said, turning on her hees and marching up the access ramp of her ship.

*Just my goddam luck* She thought to herself as she hit the switch to shut the access hatch behind her.
Isaiah Evanson
24 Nov 2016, 9:43am
From the balcony of the passenger waiting area near his pad, Isaiah peered down at the crowds below him - and above. The inside of the docking bay was a dizzying thing to behold. He never struggled with maintaining his perspective, but it still boggled his mind to see ships and people above him. It reminded him of being a child, sitting on a piece of furniture upside down, wondering what it would be like to walk on the walls and ceiling.

He pulled the case holding the three microdrones from one of his trouser pockets. They weren't extremely expensive pieces, but they weren't exactly cheap either. They were pioneered by deep-space explorers and surveyors who wanted to have a minimal impact on local flora and fauna, but these had been specially adapted for surveillance. High-resolution optical sensors enabled the little drones to observe targets from great distances. The only downside was the limited battery life.

Isaiah removed one and set it down on the railing, next to his data slate. "Okay, have at it," he said quietly.

"Link with drone established," the voice of his ship's computer told him. The little drone buzzed to life, then quickly shot upwards out of sight.

Isaiah glanced around at the crowd of people behind him, all of them busying themselves with some distraction. Seldom did the average person pay attention to what was happening around them; virtually everyone in the waiting area was preoccupied. 

If they only knew what they missed while they were staring down at their slates.

"I took the liberty of running the photo of the target through some criminal databases," Bloodfeather said over the comms. 

"It scares me when you take liberties, sweetheart," Isaiah replied. "It makes me think you're becoming sentient."

"Maybe I am." There was a slight pause, and Isaiah wasn't sure what to think. Then there was a vague approximation of a laugh. "Of course I was programmed to say just such a thing. Would you like to hear what I found?"

Sometimes she creeps me out.

"Go ahead."

"I still don't have a solid lead on a name yet - most of them are aliases. But the photo yielded multiple bounties in several systems. Sending them to your slate."

"Good work. Keep looking for other leads."

"Of course."

"And Blood?"

"Yes, Commander?"

"Turn off the humor algorithm while we're working on this."

"Certainly. I'll be more straightforward from now on."

Isaiah peered down at the slate and scrolled through the list of systems and bounties attached to the face. None of the names stood out to him as familiar, but if the woman in the photograph was a highly-sought-after criminal, it looked like this was going to be a bigger payday than he'd first thought. But that also meant it was going to be dangerous, too.

Now we wait.
Luke3107
24 Nov 2016, 2:54pm
Lilith leaned against the bulkhead as the hatch hissed shut behind her. She beat her fists on the steel behind her, trying to vent some of the frustration built up inside her. She waited a moment until she'd calmed herself down then exhaled slowly and made her way to her quarters.

Hanging her trench coat over the chair she had there, she looked at herself in the mirror to assess the damage. Pulling her ruined jumper off and chucking it in the trash, she could see the full extent of her injuries. Despite everything, she had to hand it to the Doctor, there was only a faint scar on her left shoulder blade, on the front and back. But her hand was another matter, although that was her own doing, having refused the course of treatment the staff had recommended.

Holding it up in front of her she could see where shrapnel had exited through the back of her right hand. The surgeons had done what they could, but there was still obvious scarring. Fisting it several times, she was grateful for the tension grip as it had allowed her to regain full movement with little to no discomfort. Turning the hand to see her palm, her mouth dropped in shock.

Two lines stretched from the bottom of her thumb up to her pinky widening in the middle before meeting again either end. The flesh in between the scars was a slightly darker shade of pink, while the dead skin at either side was a sickly pale white. That would go away, but the scars might be visible for a long time, or so she had been told. Looking good wasn't a concern for her, she never considered herself to be vain, but given the crews she frequently ran with, it could be construed as a weakness, and so would need to be covered up. Fortunately, those same crews meant she stored a few of sets of black leather gloves for, less pleasant tasks.

With that thought, she peeled off the rest of her clothes and stepped into the washroom to get cleaned up.
Stryker Aune
24 Nov 2016, 5:28pm
Back on the Broken Bow Stryker sat in the command chair, in nothing but boxers. He had brought the ship up to the flight deck and was watching ships buzz in and out of view overhead. What the hell was I thinking? He knew Marra would be pissed, and rightfully so. He was pissed. Not at her, but at himself. For actually thinking there was something more to be gained by working with commander Hail. But no. She wanted him, because that gave the federation a possible mole into Black Omega.

He wasn't going to play that game, but his choices were limited. He did complete his task. To the letter. He pinned that damn device to Marra. Taking it to Deggie was more logical, but if he were questioned by the FIS for whatever reason, he could truthfully answer, he did the job.

He savagly punched a control board with his left organic fist. The metal bent in and sparks flew. His hand now throbbed like a son of a bitch. He didn't care. He took another swing. Next then he knew he was standing there panting, standing in debris. The cockpit now a mutilated mess.

Grunt was right, I am a looser. A nobody. I'll never amount to anything. I actually thought I could make it out here.... He inspected the bloody knuckles. Colonia was looking to be a better option.
Luke3107
24 Nov 2016, 8:28pm
Stepping out from the washroom amidst a thin cloud of steam, clad in nothing but two towels, one for her hair and obe for her torso, Lilith stepped into her quarters and began digging through her drawers and cupboards for fresh clothing.

Knowing full well that upon leaving her ship, she was likely to be tracked, she opted for full blown lightweight tactical gear. This meant lightweight trousers, a thin cotton jumper with holster strapped around the waste and several knife holders strapped to various limbs. She had the usual suspects, one strapped to her ankle, another to her wrist, and a third clipped to her upper thigh, but with a smile she pulled out her pride and joy.

A specialised plastic composite sheath designed to be strapped along a belt, or in this case a holster strap, that was made to block scanners designed to find metal objects. Basically, it was a knife sheathe that hid the knife from metal detectors. It wasn't unique, plenty of people like her had them, but she only brought this out on special occasions, not wanting it to fall into the wrong hands should she be caught, or indeed shot. The wrong hands, of course, being Federal or Imperial security forces. No sooner would they get their hands on it than their scientists would begin developing a countermeasure, and so the wheel would keep turning.

After redressing and securing her spare gun into her holster, she worked on her hair, straightening it out and clipping it out of her face. Before finishing off with a slight touch of lipstick and eyeshadow. Nothing too drastic, but she hoped make-up might alter her appearance enough to fool a scanner for an extra second or two. She made a specific point not to touch any red lipstick, screwing her face up in disgust as the image of herself on Dr Glaboskis computer came to her mind as she threw it into the trash. Furthering her resolve to make him pay for his perverse behaviour.

With all that done, she threw her trench coat over herself again before exiting the ship through the access hatch, looking like a member of some sort of special forces in her dark grey outfit and black trench coat. The pad was clear for now, although the various pumps and cables remained attached to the underbelly. She figured the part must still be on route to the station. A flick of a switch on the outer control panel and the hatch hissed shut and with a click, it was locked. With that, she left the pad through the doorway, input a new access code to the landing area, and turned back into the corridoors of the docks with renewed vigour and determination.

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ROLEPLAY ONLY! Respect the universe settings!
If you are new here, please try to at least partially involve in the ongoing stories and conversations instead of establishing a completely different "arc". You can always turn it to a different story later.