ROLEPLAY HQ - starbreak

OG STARTER: https://discord.com/channels/843262375083769898/1070798725594750986 TRIGGERS: TBA

Ada squinted at the read out, her fingers drumming against the pilot console. Huxley flinched with each dramatic tap of her gloves against his precious interfaces, looking more and more annoyed with every passing second. “You really called me all the way up from the trenches for a Junker?” Ada asked. Maybe it was petty, but she tapped her fingers just a tad harder, meeting her pilot's squinted scowl with a look of her own. “That 'Junker' is an Appolyon Mark IV, likely built between 2340 and-” Ada interrupted “Yeah, Like I said. Junker. Since when are we in the business of picking up scrap metal from deep space, Hux?” Huxley did that thing where he inhaled deep and long, leaning back into his chair and pitching his tone. The more professional he got, the more annoyed he was, a contradiction that had earned him his spot on her crew in the first place. “With deepest respects, Captain,” Ada smirked, feigning innocence, “If you could direct your attention to the starboard side.” (edited)

12:04

Huxley didn't just direct her attention. He went ahead and pulled up several other screens to illuminate the cockpit. With all the outboard cameras all pointed at the same side of the craft, her lackadaisical attitude fell to the wayside. She frowned, squinting. Hux had the grace to not shove the obvious in her face. Considering it was already in high def on four other screens, it would take an idiot to miss it. “Oh,” Ada said simply. There was no mistaking those barcodes. “What the hell is a ship from the Orion Penal Colonies doing way out here?” 'Considering her pilot's got the credentials for a ship half her weight, I'd say it's pretty obvious,” Huxley replied dryly. One of the screens flickered and in moments, Huxley had pulled up the ID tag he must have co-erced from whoever was flying the thing. She leaned against his chair, peering at the still image of a surly looking man, and a very VERY long list of misdemeanours and felonies listed beside him. Ada whistled under her breath. “That's quite a dance card,” “Almost as bad as yours,” “Yeah, keep talking like you didn't get banned from an entire planetary system,” But she was frowning at the screen, attention flickering from the ID information, to the ship, then back. “We're on the clock. Do we really have time for this?” Huxley shrugged. “Your call, but I already told him to prepare to dock,” “Of course you did,” Ada sighed, but didn't comment. She was still thinking. “Fine. That ship could be useful if we can get the records and do some tweaking. As for our friend...” That, was a problem she didn't have a solution for just yet. The bounty was GOOD...- If she was still starting out and desperate for even the slightest recognition. Since coming into command of the Super Nova, she had become more judicious with her choice in work. The jobs couldn't just be good. (edited)

12:04

They had to be worth it. She had a crew to think about and a ship that was not cheap to keep afloat. Schlepping halfway across the system to claim a bounty for someone who amounted to a glorified scrapper, did not count. Huxley was quiet as she did her pondering. He cleared his throat. “We could always keep the ship and throw him out the airlock,” Ada glanced at him. Not for the first time, it was difficult to tell if he was joking or being dead serious. “No, no. I don't want to waste precious air.” Ada straightened to her full height (all 5 feet and 4 inches of it) and brushed her coiled brown hair from her face. “Initiate docking. I'll make sure to give our new friend a tour of the brig. Maybe if he plays nice we'll drop him off somewhere he won't get arrested on sight,” She was pleased when that earned a tiny snort from her pilot. “As you wish, Captain.” Checking that her pistol was in place against her leg and her shots where primed, Ada reached above her head, stretching out her arms. The exosuit she wore cracked and whirred, expanding out from where it was compressed tight against her body and letting sheets of metal slide out to cover the surface of her arms and chest. She let her arms fall back against her sides, rolling her shoulders and testing the manoeuvrability of the quick armor. (edited)

12:04

“I'll be on channel 4. I want you to lock down the bay after I get down there. If I have any problems with our new pal, then I might give your air lock idea some consideration,” “Cool. Try not to die on your own ship,” “Smartass,” She retorted, flashing a smile. She left Huxley to yell more commands at the ship through the comms as she headed down to great their 'guest'. (edited)

He huffed softly, tugging off the oxygen mask and tossing it aside. Sighing and rubbing his face, he tsked feeling the calluses of his hands. He got himself out of his pilots seat straps, shifting himself forward enough to unstrap his legs. He tucked his booted feet back together. Fuck it's heavy... he grunted gently as he took hold of a handle he'd put into the ceiling. He had these handles throughout his ship, giving him holds in Zero-G or a way to get around when his back went on the fritz. He knew his current ID would connect to his newest identity, but his fingerprints would pull up his government identification. 'Icarus Orion' was also 'Icarus Noct', 'Iggy Faust', and in some places just 'Scrapper'; Enough names to use interchangeably in his travels. Hands tucked into the handles and carefully dragging the tips of his boots behind him, he made his way to the unload door. His ship was small compared to most live in vessels. He'd shoved what he owned into the tiny sleeper cabin and slept in his chair 6 out of 7 nights. His cargo bay had cargo of metal tanks, a shipment of dormant stardust that had been bound for an outlier production facility until he'd scalped the captain for a bounty. He debated covering it, but knew they'd find it anyway. They'd rip his ship apart for their own curiosity. His door was wedged shut by a faulty system so he had to wedge in a prybar, his mechanical arm whirring as he used a pully and the bar to get it open slowly. His gun belt and weapon implant for his arm was tossed to the floor of the bay when the other arrived, him sitting in his doorway of his ship. It felt strange being in such a large space after so long in the barely shoulder width halls and tight cockpit of his ship.

@Mel

Ada watched from behind the airlock as the ship pulled in. As per usual, Huxley was on the money. It was indeed an Appolyon Mark IV, from sometime in the 2340's, a Class E ship with modest longevity that served the systems well until it hit obsolescence. Most Appolyon style ships ended up recycled back into the bureaucracy of running prisons and mines- They were useful for short term flights, but you rarely saw the older ships venture far from a maintenance hub. Ada tuned her radio to channel four. The great bay doors of the Super Nova closed off behind the flagging scrap ship as it touched down in the wide garage. The space was about the size of a small arena, with the Appolyon vessel currently the lone occupant amidst a sea of secured cargo. According to the data Huxley had exported to her datascreen, Iggy Faust was wanted in three different sectors for crimes ranging from pilfering and scrapping to grand larceny in four different degrees. Aside from the fact that that name was fake as all heck, there was no real way to know the true capabilities of the person lying in wait on that ship. In her experience, cornered people were not to be underestimated.

16:15

So she watched and waited. The door to the Appolyon creaked and shuddered, popping open in a shower of sparks. There was a silhouette standing in the darkened interior, framed by the mist of smoke and shorting wires. For the briefest of moments, something shined in the dark, and Ada felt a brief disappointment in the predictability of man, going straight for the goddamn guns...- A pistol and weapon mod went flying out to the far corners of the hanger. Eyebrows raised, it took a moment to realize she'd been following the glint of a mechanical arm and not a weapon, as the rest of the arm's owner exited the craft. Ada figured that was as good a sign of any. She entered the airlock, the bay doors clicking shut behind her. Huxley would be tuned in to her movements across the ship. She heard it lock just as intended. Up close, the Appolyon looked much worse for wear. Hell, was that a prybar by the door? “Well, they say any crash you can walk away from is a good one, don't they?” The woman grinned, fixing her attention upon Icarus. “Let's keep this simple. This is not a negotiation. Your ship now belongs to the Super Nova,” Ada said airily. “It's a fair bargain, I think, for your life. You'll be deposited at the next port. Any questions?”

"Depends on the port." He tsked carefully settling to sit. He was visibly using the entirety of his upper body on his biological arm to lower himself. His legs were visibly useless and limp. With a grunt from the effort he dropped onto his ass in the doorway and organized his feet. "As well as you're not stealing my ship. It's my fuckin' home not just some clunker for you to pop into a furnace for scrap." He crossed his arms across his lap and, tucked between his mechanics and his stomach, flicked on his stun gun in his arm. Other than a quiet hum that one could barely hear, no one would notice it was on. Forming a fist and pressing it to the skin could pack enough punch to make most second guess what they were doing. "I have enough cargo in my hold to pay for my ship, I'll give ya that but you'll let me back out once it's offloaded." He stretched out his shoulders with a soft sound, "I'm in no mood for a fight. I want to go my own way and the only benefit you can scrape from me is my cargo." 'Iggy' was a visibly tired man but was clean thank the stars. The one thing he did keep working on his ship was his shower, out of a disdain for filth. The main thing he stopped for was cleaner, moreso than he did food or water. His black hair was cut short out of need to keep out of his face, his clothes simple and comfortable common for pilots. He visibly was distracted making him look almost unconcerned, fiddling with his wrist joint. Unscrewing the bolt then putting it back and it appeared to be a habit based on how wore out the screw was. "I'm concerned being on a ship called 'Super Nova' considering its a star engine. Five or a 10 cannister?" He noted spinning a finger in the air. Despite wording it as a question, he didn't give the time to answer nor did he fully care. The more he dominated the open conversation the better off he'd be. People didn't like being ignored and he found being annoying could help at times.... His eyes flicked from Ada them to the s

16:52

paces behind, skimming the area. Locked door, air vent. False Gravity but strap downs means they can turn it off.... Newer ship or well cared. Larger crew needed, bad for me. Massive airlock, less chance of me getting tossed to space. Less... Multi-mode exoskeleton.... his eyes jumped about as he thought, Damn it I'm really fucking stuck now.

@Mel

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