S1:Ep1 - Time is Flea-ting

Started by Lomari, October 11, 2018, 09:06:17 PM

Rian Carpenter

February 20, 2019, 05:14:57 PM #80 Last Edit: February 20, 2019, 05:19:40 PM by Rian Carpenter
As the ship approached, Rian assembled his gear on the exterior of the ship. He let it hang in zero G within reach. The proximity to dead bodies, stripping a ship for all its worth. The space-walk. The hard parts behind him now, there was practically a spring in his step if he weren't magnetically attached to the exterior of a dead space vessel. He naturally unwound as the lingering danger was no longer present. Just the adrenaline and excitement of a man on a remote island who just spotted sails. A sort of familiar discomfort, he started the day anxious as hell, stomach practically in knots. Now, he felt like just another Joe punching the clock to end his work-day. Any lingering anxiety pitched distinctly in the direction of getting this job over and done with.

The "cook" tossed the derelict's cortex unit at the cargo bay. His pitch underhand, he lobbed it no harder than you'd toss a ball across a small room, but all he needed was for it to start going in the right direction. Then the auto-pilot drive behind it. He was psyching himself up to jump across the divide when he noticed Riot's the fogginess in her helmet. A flash of self awareness came over him. They were essentially in a graveyard and Rian had just been pluckily picking the bones practically whistling as he went, as their own possible demise and that of their crew loomed as a distinct possibility. Maybe it was insane it didn't bother him. Or the only way he's remained sane through the life he'd led. Proximity to death, his own, or others', it was a constant presence in his life.

Risking his life for a legal salvage operation seemed like the sanest way he'd ever risked his life. Carpenter actually suppressed a smile. He was happy to be working with good people again. People who felt some pause at the gore and surreal presence of the departed, people who cared what happened to their crew. Too much of his life, too many of then Rian Russo's immediate company was some shade of psychopathic. If they weren't born that way. They lived a life that rewarded the mindset. A pang of guilt for his casual attitude, but not wanting to bring attention to the fogginess of Riot's helmet, Carpenter tried to distract from the situation with another in his long line of bad jokes.

"Any you reckon I can get myself across the gap if I let this fart that's been building up since dinner out?"

God damn it, Rian.

He let out a half chuckle at his own middle school joke and tucked his rifle around onto his back, tightening the harness so it wouldn't flop about.

"Nahh, I'd have to open up like a hole..."

Rian motioned towards his posterior as if he needed to explain how he'd create a breach in his suit for the gas from his body to reach the black of space, but stopped. Another flash of self awareness he kinda waved his hand as if to dismiss the whole thing.

Momentarily considering just tossing himself off into the black out of embarrassment, he turned back towards the Darling and ran as quick as he could towards it in his awkward boots. At the last second he turned off their magnetic locks and went off the side of the derelict and towards the Darling. Novelty crate in his arms, he flew across the gulf between the two ships a little over-speed.

"One jackass, incoming."

Self deprecating to the last he smacked helmet first into the airlock door, probably giving the preacher and the doctor a good scare or laugh. Rian connected one of his magnetic boots to the ship before he could drift off and managed to salvage his terrible landing. He quietly made a note to himself to check the cortex for a decent set of directional jets for his suit, as he was not proving to be the king of thermodynamics so far.


Mona Heyerdahl

"Any you reckon I can get myself across the gap if I let this fart that's been building up since dinner out?"

Mona's eyes rolled in her helmet as her shook slightly. "Not very likely, I think. But maybe you should go ahead and try it."

"Nahh, I'd have to open up like a hole..."

"Well, at least you've got some experience in opening holes. Erm... Ahem." Mona's eyes slid to Riot's position. Her self-consciousness brought heat to her face, but if the other woman caught the unintended innuendo she made no mention of it. In fact, she made no mention of anything. Mona looked back behind herself as the Darling maneuvered itself around and loomed closer and closer to their position.

Looking toward the cold emptiness of the derelict, Mona felt as if she were standing at the edge of a recently opened crypt. She knew Barnaby wouldn't be too interested in trying to store all those bodies on board or putting in the effort to track down their rightful resting places. Thankfully, they had a vicar on board and she figured she trouble him for some final rites and direct their souls toward some final destination even if it might not fit their individual beliefs.

"Better than being a ghost..." she muttered softly. Mona felt a massive shadow washing over the trio and turned back to see the Darling approaching as close as it could come. She waved at the airlock windows as Rian made his way across.

"One jackass, incoming."

The Valkyrie smiled as she watched Rian make the awkward jump. Not that she meant to take pleasure in the man making a bit of a fool of himself, but after the potential crisis the Darling family just escaped she found his antics refreshing. "Nice landing, Rian." Mona's playful smirk carried through in her voice. She turned her head toward Riot. "Time to go home. Go on. It's okay. I'll be right behind you." Mona looked back at the airlock. The crate of novelties raised and fell in her arms as her shoulder shrugged from the sigh of relief. Home. Mona thought of St. Albans, and decided to send her check-in wave a little early this month.
When the battle is lost And the slain ones are chosen The Valkyries will guide us home
We'll heed the final call A call to arms The Valkyries will guide us home
Blind Guardian. "Valkyries"


Rian and Mona bantered back and forth a little as the three of them waited for The Darling to get into position. Ordinarily Riot would have joined in. Ordinarily she would have jumped on the innuendo Mona had made, but Riot was definitely not herself at the moment.

"One jackass, incoming."

Rian made his jump, and slammed head first into the airlock door. Riot winced. She opened her mouth to say something snarky, but nothing came.

"Nice landing, Rian." Mona said, and turned her head toward Riot. "Time to go home. Go on. It's okay. I'll be right behind you." She turned away to look back at the derelict.

No! You have to go first, I don't want to leave you here. Everyone else needs to be safe before me. Its my fault... Riot had to consciously stop herself from spiraling further down that line of thinking. She gritted her teeth until they hurt. "Right. Here I go... You Better be right behind me Mona." Riot pushed off, the Grav-Exchange held tightly in her arms, and sailed across the intervening space. She landed a fair bit more gracefully than Rian had. The second her mag boots had her secured to the deck she turned around to look for Mona.


Ship time: 0700
Planet time: 1015
Ship time: 1015
Location: An hour out from Aphrodite's orbit.

From their position between Meridian and Aphrodite, it had taken the Darling another five days to get to their next destination. Five days of repairing, organizing, and enjoying each other's company without the immediate threat of death and oxygen deprivation. The cargo was tightly secured in the cargo hold, scanned into the ship's manifest as was proper procedure for shipments that weren't necessarily meant to be hidden. There had been no contact from their current employer other than the coordinates for a meetup sent five days ago when the salvage had been brought on board and the ship and its crew brought to order. Since then, there had been radio silence, and it was increasingly unclear if this was all part of the plan or if perhaps something else was afoot.

About an hour out from the planet's orbit, the blessed silence of the Darling was interrupted by a cacophony coming from the cargo bay and echoing through the halls of the ship. It was loud, incessant, almost rhythmic, and after a moment to focus in on the sound it became confusingly apparent that the sound was clearly...barking? It appeared, from the sound alone, that the ship had picked up a pack of stray dogs, all of them crooning and barking together in a bark...bark...howl...bark...bark...pattern.

Charity ~ Melody ~ Tabitha

Darling ~ Iscariot

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