STORY: We open as Alejo and Tueller, along with Alejo’s disciplined crew, approach Masa Docks on Mars. It’s a cold and rainy night, like many on Mars, and you both pull your jackets a bit closer to resist the chill. You’re standing across a busy intersection from the main gate into Masa, and you can see dozens of small- to medium-size ships docked, spread out over an acre and reaching hundreds of feet into the sky. Outside the gate is a small guard station, inside which sits a single uniformed guard, currently resting his hand on his chin as he stares into a holonovel.
STORY: Tueller, what’s the condition of the fence?
TUELLER: The fence is high and imposing, but appears to be merely made out of cement made from the Mars soil, so it’s a dusty red.
STORY: It’s crumbling in a few places, leaving spots where the chain link is loosened, and is generally in worse condition than most structures you’ve seen in the few days you’ve spent on Mars. Masa must be suffering as a corporation – no matter. Alejo, what’s the plan for your approach?
ALEJO: One of our crew will move towards the guard station, keeping an eye on him and distracting him if necessary. Since he’s looking pretty distracted already, our man will hang back and merely be watchful. The rest of us will scan for other security along the fence line and look for a good spot to breach.
TUELLER: Tueller looks ready to go, and he’s compulsively waving his hands like he’s loosening up his fingers, ready for whatever.
TUELLER: –Not compulsively compulsively.
STORY: The merc crosses the street silently, ducking behind a car and getting a clear line of sight to the guard, signaling to you once he’s in position. One of your crew nudges your shoulder. “There, boss.” She points to a spot two stories up where the rock wall is broken, most likely from an aircar collision, and has not yet been patched, leaving an area on the fence bent back and large enough for a human-sized individual to slip through.
STORY: What do you do?
ALEJO: Alejo nods to her then turns to Tueller. “I’ll slip inside and have a look. I’ll signal when things look clear.”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs and waves him on.
TUELLER: “Your plan, your lead.”
STORY: Alejo, just as you step forward to make your way to the wall, you are bumped into from behind.
STORY: Millicent, your ship awaits you in the Masa docks, ready for departure as soon as your grad students arrive later tonight. You have your passcard and credentials, and the gate is manned by a bored-looking guard.
STORY: What do you do?
STORY: — also please describe yourself
STORY: — also alejo and tueller please describe yourselves when you next act
STORY: — forgot that part
MILLICENT: Dr Millicent Breedlove, a short, attractive woman whose age is indeterminate, anywhere from her early thirties to late forties, shoulders Alejo aside from behind a stack of white office cardboard boxes taller than her head The eye you can see clearly glints with excitement while the other is covered by a thin, lit visor panel with a scroll of information you can barely see passing quickly by. “Oh, excuse me! Pardon me, just trying to.” Millicent shifts her balance so she can quickly glance at Alejo. “Pack these. Final boxes. Excuse me!”
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: Dr Breedlove hurries toward the gate. “Noma, be a dear and make a note. I want to make sure we’re recording a shipwide scan of standard measurements daily. Temp, barometric pressure…” You hear her distractedly greet the guard and get waved through the checkpoint.
STORY: Dr. Breedlove disappears through the gate as it clicks shut behind her.
STORY: Alejo, what do you do?
STORY: — “What do you do” is the prompt i’m supposed to use as GM, expect to hear it more or less constantly
TUELLER: —Not that I have something right now, but what’s our protocol if we want to preempt someone’s “What do you do?”
MILLICENT: —like if you’d wanted to tailgate with Dr Breedlove?
ALEJO: Alejo watches, uncharacteristically but only momentarily distracted by this passerby. Alejo turns briefly back to Tueller and the rest of the crew and offers a quick shrug and then moves to the hole in the fence line, swiftly and quietly.
STORY: — i don’t know if we have one! should we invent something?
ALEJO: — yep.
ALEJO: — I was going to jump in, but I didn’t want to preempt the …
TUELLER: “She’s as good a target as any. Get in there and see if she has a ship worth a damn.”
TUELLER: Tueller says, under his breath to Alejo.
TUELLER: Going to assist Alejo up the wall.
STORY: When the two of you get close to the fence, you hear a faint but distinct hum – it’s electrified, likely hooked into some kind of security system. You catch sight of a small box a dozen yards away from the guard post that may be a power or control panel.
STORY: Tueller, what do you do?
STORY: — going to go back and change my intro so you aren’t already specifically after the Peregrine, I should have asked if you were looking for a ship or this ship
TUELLER: Tueller signals a halt to the crew when he hears the hum with a raised fist.
TUELLER: “‘Ejo, any of these scrubs we’re paying for good with wires?”
ALEJO: Alejo freezes. “Nothin’s easy, is it,” he mutters. “Yeah, Jac.” He turns back to the woman who spotted the fence breach and motions for her to move up to the black box with them.
STORY: http://www.mondojohnson.com/blog/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/vlcsnap-283044.png
STORY: Jac creeps behind the pair of you, reaching into a pack on her belt to grab some tools and get to work on the box.
STORY: Alejo, make a Command Move (Roll+Influence)
ALEJO: 10
STORY: Nice
ALEJO: — two six-sided, yes?
STORY: — yep!
ALEJO: — I did read the rules, but it was a while ago.
TUELLER: Incidentally, as I forgot, Tueller is an impeccably dressed black man, with the height of someone who grew up in less than full G, who almost always has a not-exactly-friendly smile on his face and tends to stand very still until he gets ready for action.
ALEJO: — Oh right!
TUELLER: 6’8″ in height, and solid muscle.
STORY: Jac fiddles with the lock on the outside of the box, sticking various thin metal objects into it and giving everything a good wiggle, until there’s a momentary spark and Jac lurches back, shaking her hand and smiling at you, a bit embarrassed. “Sorry bout that, sir, we’ll be in in a jiff.” She pops the box open and, peering at the wires for a long moment through the light of a flashlight held in her teeth, appears to be doing math. Her eyes dart back and forth.
MILLICENT: —jesus giant bones christ
STORY: — this is where i’d make a james comey joke but instead i’m just going to say JESUS
TUELLER: People get tall in low gravity!
STORY: She mutters something under her breath and blows air from between her lips, pushing a hair behind her ear before taking out a pair of pliers and, after a brief hesitation, snipping a wire.
STORY: The hum gets deeper as the fence powers down, and she drops the pliers back in her belt, satisfied. “Sorry for the wait, sir.”
STORY: She gestures toward the fence as if welcoming you to climb it.
STORY: Millicent, you’re a bit lost. The guard said it was level six, the third pathway on the left, the one marked G-22, but you’re at that pathway and it’s clearly marked D-14.
STORY: What do you do?
MILLICENT: “Well, now where.” Milicent looks around a few times and finally puts the boxes down. Apparently talking to thin air, “Would you pull a schematic and locate us, please? I’m quite turned around.”
STORY: “One moment, Millie. Shall I use public records, or do you need more detail?”
MILLICENT: “Public records should be sufficient to help us find our dock, I believe.”
STORY: “Acknowledged. I believe I’ve located the correct path – I’ll light it for you on the HUD if you like.”
MILLICENT: “Oh, do, yes, thank you, dear. Would you bring up a map of the complex while we’re at it? I want to make sure I send the remainder of our staff a wave with the correct directions.”
STORY: — i like that there’s a heist going on while dr breedlove gets directions to her computer friend
STORY: “Done. Follow the blue line, and–” a light turns on and illuminates the ground from your shoulder lamp, “please be careful where you step; some of these ships are in disrepair and there is quite a bit of detritus on the ground.”
STORY: Back to the fence. Tueller, Alejo, what do you do?
ALEJO: Alejo smiles broadly at her. “You’re indecently good at this. Thanks!” He then turns to the fence and quickly scales it.
TUELLER: Tueller has moved to boost Alejo up.
STORY: Jac blushes a little, then puts her game face back on.
STORY: Ok, let’s have a Get Involved Move from Tueller, that’s Roll+Physique since you’re lifting a man
ALEJO: Alejo is lean and authentic, a good half a foot shorter than Tueller, so he appreciates the boost.
TUELLER: Don’t Get Involveds happen after?
STORY: Typically yeah, but you’re doing it already, so we’ll just assume a bonus or penalty based on what you get
STORY: Then a Face Advertisy from Alejo with Mettle to climb up to the opening and slip through undetected
TUELLER: Roll(2d6)+2:
1,6,+2
Total:9
STORY: Ok! Alejo?
ALEJO: Right. 5+6=11 then +2 of mettle.
STORY: Well, damn!
TUELLER: –I assume he’s now boosted right into the cockpit.
ALEJO: — Capper is off to a good start.
TUELLER: —caper.
STORY: So since he already succeeded, we don’t need you to Get Involved, Tueller – so the cost you’d have incurred we’ll just negate. You stand back a bit and are impressed at your partner’s slickness. Jac is downright flushed.
ALEJO: — Yeah.
STORY: Alejo, describe for me what happens please
TUELLER: —Alejo has definite romance possibilities so far.
STORY: — since you got well over a 10, you just straight up succeed at whatever you were attempting here and you can tell us how it goes
ALEJO: Alejo jumps up from the ground onto the fence and effortlessly scales it in a few seconds, slipping through the hole. He pauses briefly to scan the area for any security and get a lay of the land from a higher vantage and then, seeing that things are clear, drops silently and almost instantaneously down the other side.
STORY: Now inside the dock area, you’re flanked by two 100-foot ships, providing you good cover from the guard station. The metal catwalks, lit now and then with street lights, are slick and a bit noisy, but the city traffic provides good sound cover as long as you move carefully. Alejo, what’s inside that can help you get the rest of your crew through?
TUELLER: Tueller stands calmly, eyes moving back and forth between each member of their team, cooly evaluating them and making eye contact a second or two longer than each member is totally comfortable with.
STORY: You become aware that Jac is afraid of you. It’s not an unfamiliar sensation, but it’s still a bit sad.
STORY: She flinches under your gaze.
TUELLER: The only thing moving besides his eyes is his fingers, fidgeting.
ALEJO: Alejo spots a tie off point for a rope ladder. He slips off his kit bag slung over his shoulder, quickly ties the rope ladder and connects a single tow rope to it. He swings the tow rope’s heavy end and launches it over the fence.
TUELLER: The moment the ladder is over the fence, Tueller is straightening it out and going up without a word.
STORY: Jac follows, then the rest of the crew. Your lookout stays in position, keeping an eye on the guard and nodding to you that all is clear, Alejo.
TUELLER: He looks like he’s been waiting for this moment his entire life.
STORY: Millicent! You are getting a call in your earpiece.
MILLICENT: What’s the caller ID say?
MILLICENT: There’s no way I don’t have caller ID in my visor
TUELLER: Tueller gives Alejo a friendly pat on the shoulder as he joins him. The pat tingles just a little bit.
STORY: Tariq Guosin, your research lead.
MILLICENT: Millicent nods, opening the call. “Good evening, Tariq. How are you settling in?”
STORY: http://cimg.tvgcdn.net/i/2017/06/27/6c685a17-b727-440d-8aee-95740447b2da/izombie-news.jpg
ALEJO: — Robbie!
MILLICENT: —yeah, dude!
STORY: He sounds impatient. “This guy at the gate says our passes don’t work.”
STORY: — ravi! god, ravi. ravi.
STORY: — raaaaaaavi
STORY: — sorry i only cast super hot NPCs , everybody, not sorry though
ALEJO: — Ravi. I’ll blame Amanda, ‘cause I can’t remember anyone’s name, my own included. But yeah, I should have known that.
TUELLER: —Who’s Ravi?
STORY: — iZombie
MILLICENT: “That won’t do at all, give me a moment.” Millie opens a conference call to the front gate.
TUELLER: —-ah.
STORY: The guard sounds disinterested, unsurprisingly. “Masa Docks, front gate.”
MILLICENT: —this is a hot tv show da doy
MILLICENT: “This is Dr Breedlove. I understand there’s a misunderstanding regarding my research assistants.”
STORY: “Send through your credentials please, ma’am.” You hear Tariq in the background, distantly. “–you serious, this is ridic–” “Come on, you know who–” and so on. He’s clearly annoyed.
MILLICENT: Millie gestures, sending the credentials through in a wave.
STORY: The guard clears his throat. “It’s not coming up for me, ma’am. I’ve got you cleared here, plus your cargo, nothing about any additional crew.”
MILLICENT: Joshua Anderegg mutes, then laughs at herself, “I understand there’s a misunder-“ clicks the line back on.
STORY: In the background of this call, Tariq again. “–expect her to crew a ship by herself, this is a research vessel, for the love of”
MILLICENT: “Well, we’ve got an interesting problem, don’t we, sir? Because I have a vessel and cargo, but no crew.”
STORY: “Sorry ma’am, not my problem, you’re going to have to address this with main office.”
MILLICENT: “So, if you were me, what would you do to expedite the release of your crew from able hands of security?”
STORY: “They don’t pay me to think about that sort of thing, ma’am.”
MILLICENT: “No, I suppose they don’t.”
MILLICENT: “Please hold.”
MILLICENT: Millie puts the call on mute. “Noma, would you be a dear and pop into the security mainframe and send a wave releasing our crew? I don’t want to wait for the provost to wake up and check his messages.”
STORY: You hear Tariq again in the background, “Got to be kidding–” “I’m having a smoke.” His voice gets more distant as he continues to complain and walks off.
STORY: Millicent, please make a Command move (Roll+Influence) to enlist Noma’s help clearing your crew.
MILLICENT: 8
MILLICENT: —by the way, I am going to try my damndest to make Google Wave the communication platform of the future
MILLICENT: —I MISS YOU, GOOGLE WAVE
TUELLER: —-Oooof.
STORY: Noma beeps cheerfully. “It will take some time to reach a live agent, the Masa system is quite outdated and byzantine. Please hold, Millie.”
TUELLER: —-I hope Google Reader went on to form the Collective.
STORY: Your visor goes back to the default view as Noma exits your system.
MILLICENT: haha that’s the AI they collected
STORY: Tueller, as you climb the rope, you catch sight of your lookout, signaling to you and pointing towards the fence.
TUELLER: What’s up at the fence?
MILLICENT: —goddammit there’s an incubator that took control of Google Wave and according to Wikipedia “Currently, there are not any demo servers available”
TUELLER: —Never used Wave.
MILLICENT: —it was the tool we would be using right now
STORY: A tall, brown-skinned man with a super beautiful beard and hair is stalking angrily towards your group. He wears a long white jacket and carries a backpack and his arms are full of folders. He puts his stack of papers on the hood of a car as he digs into his back pocket. He does not appear to see you.
STORY: Really just the best beard and hair.
STORY: Can’t stress that enough.
STORY: He takes out a small leather case and begins rolling a cigarette, spinning around as he lights it and leaning against the car, and catches your eye as you lurk near the ladder.
STORY: He raises an eyebrow. You get the sense he’s seen crime before and is measuring his response. He waves hesitantly.
TUELLER: Tueller looks him in the eye, and gives a slight nod.
TUELLER: Tueller also stays on the balls of his feet, ready to jump down and charge if necessary.
STORY: His eyes dart back towards the guard post. He takes a few hesitant but friendly-looking steps toward you. The rest of the crew is out of sight, so he’s only approaching you. His hands are empty.
STORY: He juts his chin toward the top of the ladder and smiles. “Your paperwork messed up too?”
TUELLER: Tueller stares at him for two seconds.
TUELLER: ….
TUELLER: Shrugs.
TUELLER: “You know how it is on the dirt planets. Paperwork here is actual paper. Goes anywhere but where it’s supposed to.”
TUELLER: “Your papers? Off in the wind?”
STORY: He smiles broadly, looking back at the guard station where half a dozen young people stand around impatiently. “Messed up somehow, not sure. Masa tech’s garbage anyway, I bet it got eaten by a virus.”
TUELLER: Tueller shifts so he’s not actually blocking the ladder.
STORY: “You mind if…?” He gestures toward the ladder with his cigarette.
TUELLER: Tueller gives him a long look. “Huh.” And then that slight nod again.
TUELLER: He turns back to the team on the ground. “Ejo. Got an interesting wrinkle.”
TUELLER: —You know, after Contino, it’s nice to play a character who isn’t careful at all.
TUELLER: “Don’t papercut him.”
STORY: He smiles broadly again, flicking his cigaratte into the street as he relaxes and approaches you, clapping you on the shoulder as he passes. It’s an awkward motion, given that he’s fully eight inches shorter than you, but he makes it work all right. “Beautiful, thanks man.” He climbs the ladder and picks his way through the fence opening, tearing his white lab coat on a loose wire.
MILLICENT: —Yeah. It’s fun after Luke to not be trying to think as such a chain of command tactical guy.
STORY: He hops to the ground about ten feet from you, Alejo, but you’re hidden if you want to be. What do you do?
MILLICENT: —I am a little afraid of playing the Brains, though
MILLICENT: —I think technobabble will be really helpful in that regard
TUELLER: Tueller stays on the wall for the moment, looking as unobtrusive as a tall-ass man in a nice suit can look.
MILLICENT: —but still it’s intimidating
TUELLER: —The notion that we’re improv-ing the entire universe is the intimidating part for me.
ALEJO: “Well hi. You’re new.” Alejo steps forward, with broad smile, sizing the man up. Alejo cautiously closes the distance between them, ready to act fast if need be.
STORY: His eyes widen. “New? I’m… I’ve got a job.” He gestures behind him, towards Tueller. “You’re that dude’s boss?”
ALEJO: — It is a bit intimidating. I’m glad to hear that I’m not the only person feeling a bit like that.
MILLICENT: —haha the improv is way more comfortable to me
TUELLER: Tueller pops down behind him and looms. “Maybe I’m the boss.”
STORY: He jumps slightly, but stays cool. “I’m sure you are. Definitely. Both the boss. Everyone but me is the boss.”
STORY: “I’m… I was just hoping to use your ladder, sir, if you… can I go?”
ALEJO: Alejo nods. “Bossing is overrated.”
MILLICENT: —oh, here’s an easier way to put it. I find the playing part of playing an educated person easier than the educated part
TUELLER: Tueller laughs, not cruelly. “I’m the money and the muscle. Who are you?”
STORY: “…I’m a grad student.”
TUELLER: “Here for a ship?”
STORY: He nods.
ALEJO: “Why the ladder, then?
TUELLER: “She a good ship?”
STORY: He laughs as you speak over each other. “Uh.” He gestures to each of you in turn. “I don’t know about the ship, I haven’t even met the captain, and…” Gesturing to Alejo. “Something wrong with my paperwork. I don’t like waiting.”
TUELLER: “That’s a healthy attitude. I hate waiting too.”
ALEJO: Alejo smiles again. “Dirt planets, right?” He then gives Tueller a knowing but quick glance.
TUELLER: “I’m looking forward to getting off of the dirt.”
STORY: He nods, and you both sense he’s trying to be cool more than he actually is cool. “Yeah, dirt planets are the worst.”
STORY: “Let me get into space, where there’s… yeah, no dirt.”
TUELLER: Tueller laughs again. Says nothing.
STORY: Millicent, Noma beeps in your ear, a friendly tone. “Millie, I’m still on hold with Masa customer service, but if my readings are correct, Tariq is no longer being held at the gate. His GPS shows him inside the facility. I know you disapprove of privacy violations, but I was attempting all possible solutions.”
ALEJO: “So, this paperwork mess. Does that mean that you’re the last person to get to your ship? Running late?“
STORY: “Most likely first.” He peeks around the bow of the ship you’re hidden behind. “They’re all still standing around at security. Well, oh, and Dr. Breedlove is somewhere around here.”
MILLICENT: “Well, that’s certainly some good news! And I doubt Tariq will mind just this once. Please put him through.”
STORY: Alejo and Tueller, a friendly and too loud chime comes from the man’s pocket.
STORY: He jumps and pulls out his phone, muting it and holding it hesitantly. “It’s Dr. Breedlove, can I, uh. Are you guys gonna jump me if I answer?”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: Tueller smiles. “No. That wouldn’t make us jump you.”
STORY: He nods and answers the phone. “Dr. Breedlove.”
TUELLER: Tueller gives Alejo a look.
ALEJO: Alejo nods once.
MILLICENT: Millie puts down her box and laughs, begins a comfortable pace around a docking hallway. “Tariq! I understand you made it through the blockade!”
STORY: “Yeah. Wait, how do you know that?”
MILLICENT: “I’d be happy to explain later, over drinks, in my executive cabin. As soon as we’re both settled.”
MILLICENT: “I hope that sounds fair. Now, where are you?”
TUELLER: —lot of flirting going on so far.
STORY: He raises an eyebrow while he adjusts the phone, giving Tueller a hesitant look.
TUELLER: Tueller raises an eyebrow.
STORY: He covers the mouthpiece with one hand. To ALEJO: “Where are we?”
ALEJO: “A few minutes away.” Alejo whispers.
TUELLER: “Coming with you.”
STORY: Alejo, let’s have a Command move on that one
STORY: (roll+influence)
ALEJO: —Right. Sorry, hold on, my dice app closed. Just a sec
ALEJO: 6+1=7 +2 Influence
TUELLER: Am I assisting with my bulk?
STORY: You can Get Involved as a +physique roll for being generally a guy one doesn’t want to cross!
ALEJO: — Right, I like that.
TUELLER: Roll(2d6)+2:
4,4,+2
Total:10
STORY: Nice!
ALEJO: — Damn!
TUELLER: –FYI, https://www.wizards.com/dnd/dice/dice.htm has a good dice roller that handles modifiers and can easily be copied and pasted.
STORY: The man keeps his hand over the mouthpiece and smiles conspiritorially at the two of you. He extends a hand. “Tariq.”
STORY: “Are we… stealing a ship?”
TUELLER: Tueller takes his hand and squeezes very briefly but also hard. “Tueller. Ya’Makasi.”
STORY: His smile completely disappears.
STORY: He swallows and nods seriously.
STORY: “Mm hmm. We’re stealing a ship. Okay.”
TUELLER: —hah
STORY: He removes his hand from the mouthpiece. “I’m a few minutes away. What’s the dock location again?”
TUELLER: “Yes. We are.”
ALEJO: Alejo pats Tariq on the shoulder in a friendly way, while Tueller still has his hand.
ALEJO: “Time to say goodbye,” Alejo whispers to Tariq.
STORY: He’s broken out into a flop sweat, but he smiles meekly at Alejo.
TUELLER: Tueller lets go of his hand.
MILLICENT: “Berth 38, don’t bother knocking, I’ve got too many boxes to put away.“
STORY: …
ALEJO: This message has been removed.
STORY: — josh has an edit
STORY: He nods to you Alejo, halfway between frightened and excited. “See you in a few, Doctor.” He hangs up.
STORY: His shaking hands replace the phone in his pocket. “B–berth 38. Please don’t hurt Dr. Breedlove, it’ll look terrible on my academic record.”
ALEJO: “Well done, Tariq. Well done. No one needs to get hurt. Not our game.” With that, Alejo gestures to the rest of the crew to fall in and head out.
ALEJO: To this point, they have been in cover.
STORY: As Tariq sees the other half dozen trained crew appear as if out of the shadows, his fear intensifies and his eyes widen to dinner plates.
TUELLER: Tueller reels in the rope ladder and wraps it up.
STORY: “Oh,” he says quietly.
STORY: Millicent!
TUELLER: “Not our game at all.”
STORY: You’ve reached The Peregrine. It’s a refurbished standard mid-bulk transport, with a few modifications per your specifications. The workrooms have been outfitted into science and med labs, complete with cold storage and chemistry labs, and the forward cargo bay has been refitted into a dormitory to hold your grad student staff, with a dozen bunks in the relatively cramped area. Your quarters are still extensive, and as you tour the ship, you remark at how much space you have to yourself up on the top deck, shared only with the escape pods and the bridge. It’s relatively clean, though evidence of its past use as a transport shuttle is evident in the deepest corners of the corridors, which you naturally inspect as you review the deck layout.
STORY: Noma requests that you allow her access to the ship’s mainframe so she can begin calibrations and prepare for your departure.
MILLICENT: The first thing I do is find and examine the computer console, allowing Noma to jump in and poke around.
MILLICENT: The second thing I do is start a list of work I don’t want to do for Tariq: assigning bunks and chore wheels, etc.
STORY: Noma leaves your suit, coming in over the ship’s speakers to greet you, her familiar voice a bit tinny on the outdated tech. “It’s a bit cluttered in here, Millie, but I’ll get us cleaned up and ready for departure shortly. Remember to lift with your shoulders for those boxes. Ooh, there’s a power loader in the cargo bay!”
MILLICENT: “Oh! Is that? Oh!” Millie dashes for the cargo bay
STORY: It’s a full EVA Walker suit, a single-seat power loader that you can stand inside and use to do work outside the ship in zero-g and non-atmpsoheric conditions. It also serves as decent armor in a pinch, and you spend a few minutes getting acquainted with the controls. You’re disappointed to see the machinery is too primitive for Noma to operate for you.
MILLICENT: I lock it down to a passcode anyway. Don’t want to let the grad students mess around in this kind of dangerous equipment.
STORY: — i lost track of time and we’ve got five minutes left! 10:30 is turn into a pumpkin time for everyone, correct? sorry for not checking in sooner
STORY: — i can go at least until you crazy kids meet up if you guys are cool with that, but i don’t want to keep anyone up later than planned
TUELLER: –I’m fine until whenever
MILLICENT: —I could go a little farther tonight to get to a satisfying button, honestly
ALEJO: —Yeah, I’m cool.
STORY: — ok, i’ll push us along, thanks
STORY: Tariq is having trouble understanding exactly where to go, and looks both nervous and frustrated. He doesn’t seem to be a very patient man, and the stress is showing.
STORY: He reaches a third dead end and swears, pulling out his cigarette pack and rolling one. “I give up, I’m sorry, I don’t know where the hell they expect us to go. As far as I can tell, we’re supposed to be somewhere up there–” he gestures two levels above you, “–but I can’t even find a stairway.”
STORY: Alejo, what do you do?
ALEJO: “Grad student, eh? Of?” Alejo moves next to Tariq and asks for a cigarette. He then nods to one of the crew to see if she can figure out where ….
ALEJO: “Berth 38 is.”
STORY: He rolls you one, smiling nervously. You note that you put him at ease, while Tueller makes him tense up. It’s, again, not an unfamiliar observation.
ALEJO: Alejo takes the cigarette with a gracious nod.
TUELLER: Tueller, seeing the effect he’s having, fades into the background. He’s towering, but when he gets still he’s easier to forget.
STORY: “Xenobiology. I’m technically postdoctoral, but this position was too exciting to pass up.”
ALEJO: “So I can call you Doc?”
STORY: He smiles broadly. “Sure, if Dr. Breedlove doesn’t mind.”
STORY: https://scifanatic-wpengine.netdna-ssl.com/wp-content/uploads/2017/10/dsc-latiftheory-head.jpg
ALEJO: “Well, sounds like you’ve earned it, so I’m sure she won’t mind.” Alejo looks back casually, seeing if the crew member is back yet.
STORY: Your lookout catches up with you, a lithe mercenary, hard to rattle.
STORY: He nods professionally, then gestures to his earpiece. “Berth 38 is this way, sir.”
Alejo, name this man please.
STORY: —I am so bad at names.
TUELLER: Kahn Vespertine.
STORY: —that’s so good
ALEJO: — Great!
STORY: He jogs ahead of the group, keeping an eye out for anyone else.
ALEJO: “Thanks, Kahn. Lead the way. Come on Doc, let’s get to the ship.”
TUELLER: Tueller takes second.
TUELLER: Keeping an eye on Kahn, and not looking back at all at the group
STORY: With Kahn leading the way, you find the Peregrine within a few minutes. The lights inside are on, and the gangway plank is open. For the record, the main entrance to this ship is through the back of the cargo bay.
STORY: Kahn takes a post near the entrance and nods to Tueller. “I’ll keep watch, sir.”
STORY: What do you do?
TUELLER: Tueller is first going in, waiting only to make sure that Alejo is following close behind.
ALEJO: He is. He pauses only to point to both sides of the ship, giving silent instructions to the rest of the team to fan out.
TUELLER: Tueller goes in fast.
TUELLER: And not stealthily at all.
TUELLER: He looks even bigger on a ship
STORY: The crew covers the area behind you, and Tariq walks in carefully, adjusting his backpack as he steps into the cargo bay. “Uh. Dr. Breedlove?”
STORY: Millicent, Noma opens a channel into the galley where you are poking through the rations. Tariq’s voice comes through, calling your name.
MILLICENT: “Oh. It’s about time!”
MILLICENT: …
MILLICENT: “I’m sorry, we should do this properly.” Millie straightens. “Welcome aboard the Peregrine, Mr. Guosin. You have my permission to enter the ship.”
TUELLER: Tueller smiles.
STORY: “Um, thank you doctor, I think… are you. Could you meet me in the cargo bay please?”
MILLICENT: “I’m sure you’ll say I’m being aspirational, but if we can’t aspire to soar as the peregrine, then, my boy. I’m sorry. Then, my dear and appreciated research assistant. Then how will we ever find ourselves as at home in the sky as our namesake?”
MILLICENT: “I’m pretty sure that was circular, but I have to admit I’ve found the cookies, the. Sorry. The cargo bay?”
STORY: “Yes, uh. Sir? Ma’am? What are we doing for captain titles?”
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyes and smiles back to Tariq and Tueller as they continue to move into the cargo bay. “She likes you,” he whispers to Tariq.
STORY: “Anyway yes, could you come down here please.”
MILLICENT: “I thought we’d decide once we found a captain.”
STORY: “She doesn’t know me,” he whispers back. “I think she likes talking.”
MILLICENT: “Oh, are you admiring the EVA? Gorgeous, isn’t it?”
ALEJO: Alejo nods exaggeratedly.
TUELLER: Tueller goes to stand near the door to the cargo bay.
TUELLER: Off to the side.
MILLICENT: Millie heads for the cargo bay
ALEJO: Alejo too slips off to the side, just out of sight.
MILLICENT: “She, actually. Let’s be clear. That marvel of engineering is as much a woman as any nautical ship.”
STORY: Millicent, you arrive at the cargo bay of your precious new home and find it occupied by a dozen strangers, and standing in the center is the man you realize from his university dossier, Dr. Tariq Guosin. He looks embarrassed, and tilts his head “aw, shucks” style as you step into the cargo bay.
STORY: “So, uh.”
TUELLER: Tueller steps in between Millie and the door to keep her from running.
TUELLER: Not threatening beyond that.
STORY: “I’m not really sure what the plan is here, to be honest. Guys?” He looks over to Alejo and Tueller, back and forth.
ALEJO: Alejo steps beside her. “Hi, Dr. Breedlove, I understand.”
TUELLER: —https://media.giphy.com/media/rVZEejvVWEbug/giphy.gif
ALEJO: “Pleasure to meet you.” He holds out his hand warmly.
STORY: — LOL
TUELLER: Tueller bows elegantly.
STORY: — if there were a way to give you a plot point for that, stu, i would
MILLICENT: Millie shakes his hand warmly. “You understand correctly.” Millie smiles hugely. “And pleased to meet you!” The pause is evident.
MILLICENT: http://i.imgur.com/ZLcbn.jpg
STORY: Millicent, you notice that these people do not dress like grad students.
ALEJO: “Alejo. Alejo Soto.”
MILLICENT: An impossible smile
STORY: They’re significantly more… equipped.
MILLICENT: “Pleased to meet you, Mr Soto.”
ALEJO: Unknown.jpeg
ALEJO: “Anyone else here yet?”
MILLICENT: Millie shakes hands confidently, then her hands twitch for a moment.
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head for a second, to clear it.
STORY: A short, dreadlocked woman slides past the four of you, nodding efficiently to Alejo on her way past. “I’ll check her out, sir.”
TUELLER: Tueller is elegantly dressed in a suit, with no tie or pocket square, though his coat is pushed back to show that he has a knife on his belt, in a standard rig for space-going crew for quick access.
TUELLER: (If you really look closely, you’ll see the knife has a wooden handle, which means it’s incredibly valuable, but that’s neither here nor there)
MILLICENT: Millie keeps smiling, looking with a question in her eyes to anyone who will answer, ESPECIALLY Tariq
TUELLER: “Is the ship…sorry, is Peregrine ready for departure?”
STORY: Tariq is not explaining, he just looks halfway between nervous and excited.
ALEJO: Alejo lets go of her hand but keeps a friendly look.
MILLICENT: “Oh, very nearly. What a kind question!” The pause is deeper.
TUELLER: “Good. Good.”
ALEJO: “Steady, Doctor Breedlove.”
STORY: The lights flicker and dim.
STORY: And the gangway door begins to close. It’s on a motor, so you’ve got maybe fifteen seconds.
MILLICENT: “Oh, I’m doing quite well, sir. I was just about to put on some tea. I find an evening tea just smoothes the whole day over. Would you lot like some?”
MILLICENT: “Or are you leaving?”
ALEJO: — We’re in the ship?
TUELLER: Based on our experience on a ship, would you say that’s a bad sign?
STORY: —you are
TUELLER: Cargo bay of the ship.
STORY: — i mean, it means the door is closing
STORY: — typically the door has to close before a ship takes off, but also it could just be the door is closing. it’s weird that it’s happenign now without any notification, though
STORY: Jac comes on the intercom. “That’s not me, boss.”
TUELLER: “Who else is here?”
TUELLER: Tueller asks urgently.
ALEJO: “I like a good tea.” Alejo steps back and surveys the area as he says this, looking for any evidence of what’s happening.
STORY: Jac, still on the intercom: “This system’s tight, way more security than I was expecting. Gonna need a few.”
STORY: Tariq looks around nervously.
ALEJO: “No problem, Jac. Anyone else on board, so far as you can tell?”
TUELLER: “Ejo, you handle her. I’ll secure the bridge.”
STORY: “No way to know until I’ve got access, sir, a manual sweep would be faster.”
TUELLER: Tueller spins out of the room and starts up towards where the bridge should be.
STORY: Tueller, give me an Assessment move, +mettle
ALEJO: Alejo nods and slips his stun baton off his belt.
ALEJO: “Doctor Breedlove, mind telling me who else is here?”
TUELLER: \Roll(2d6)+1:
2,1,+1
Total:4
MILLICENT: I’d like a deduction roll, I’d like to know who or what is most dangerous.
STORY: You move quickly through the ship and find that not only is it empty, but the security is more than you’d anticipated. Your’e able to reach the central column, a courtyard that extends up through the three levels of the ship, but every door beyond that one is locked and you’re not able to reach the bridge.
STORY: Millie, it’s without question Tueller.
TUELLER: —damn straight.
ALEJO: —Dude’s huge.
MILLICENT: “I wouldn’t, but you’ll need to join me for a cup of tea. How does that soud?”
TUELLER: “We’re locked down!” yelling down the hallway.
STORY: The cargo bay door finishes closing and you hear the airlock bolts snap into place as the ship thrums to life.
STORY: It’s a smooth sound, but unmistakable – this ship is powering up and readying for departure.
STORY: Alejo, what do you do?
ALEJO: “Jac, talk to me.”
MILLICENT: Millie starts walking toward the mess.
ALEJO: Alejo steps in front of her. “Just a minute Doctor.”
ALEJO: He’s not treating but also not asking.
STORY: “She just turned on, boss, I didn’t do anything! I”m–” a brief pause, then the intercom squeals back to life. “I’m stuck in this damn engine room.”
MILLICENT: Millie stops, unperturbed
TUELLER: Tueller gets up to the bridge and quickly figures out he can’t quickly get in anywhere and also that the doors are all way too thick to breach by hand.
STORY: Jac: “What the hell is going on??”
STORY: Tariq takes a deep breath through his narrowed lips, shaking his head.
TUELLER: Tueller quickly starts back towards his team.
ALEJO: “Great question. I guess I’m gonna find out a bit more over some tea.” His eyes are locked on Millie’s. “Right Doctor?”
STORY: Kahn has slipped inside and is covering the cargo bay, looking for hidden crew.
ALEJO: “Kahn, keep things under control here, will you?”
MILLICENT: “Right!” Big grin. Millie takes his arm and leads him to the mess.
ALEJO: Alejo allows her to lead him by the arm.
STORY: Any of you who have left atmo before recognize what happens next: the ship backs out of its space and begins to ascend. The inertial dampeners cover most of the movement, but the movement and light through the windows reveal the ship’s ascent, leaving Mars behind and rising somewhere towards the mesosphere.
STORY: Just as suddenly as the ship powered on, it halts, hovering near a small satellite relay. The lights of Mars at night twinkle in the distance thorugh the small porthole.
ALEJO: “Peculiar.”
MILLICENT: Dr Breedlove makes tea
TUELLER: Tueller joins them. “Well. We’re off the dirt at least.”
STORY: Tariq sits down on a crate and rolls a cigarette. “Jac? Are you able to tell whether it’s ok to smoke?”
STORY: There is no answer.
STORY: Tariq and Kahn remain with the crew in the cargo bay, Jac is locked in engineering, and Alejo and Millie sit down for tea in the mess. Where’s Tueller?
ALEJO: — With us in the mess.
TUELLER: I tried to come back to Alejo.
STORY: Got it.
TUELLER: Alejo’s the only one who’ll talk to me without shitting himself.
STORY: You are 6’8″
MILLICENT: Millie makes a tray of teas, 5, and says to Alejo, “Why don’t you bring the the smart one, the scary one and my assistant to my quarters for some tea?”
MILLICENT: Then heads there
ALEJO: He stops her with the tray of tea. “I think here is fine. Let’s not wander too far.”
MILLICENT: She shrugs, sits down at the mess table
MILLICENT: “Bring them in, please, and anyone you consider essential to this conversation.”
STORY: Tueller, Alejo, you both notice a habit of Dr Breedlove’s to fiddle with her fingers while she sits. She wears thin gloves that appear to be integrated with her suit, and the visor with its HUD is still active.
TUELLER: —everyone fiddles with their fingers in this crew.
ALEJO: “Well, since I’m not sure what this conversation is, I’m not sure who’s essential, Doc.”
STORY: Alejo, you hear alarmed shouts from the cargo bay.
ALEJO: “Why don’t you just start and we’ll figure that part out.”
MILLICENT: Dr Breedlove sits back and waits
ALEJO: Alejo moves quickly to the door. “Kahn, you alright?”
STORY: There is a general kerfuffle from down the central column. Then, finally, you hear Tariq call out. “His arm’s fucked, half frozen! Tell Dr. Breedlove to open the doors to the med bay, please!”
TUELLER: Tueller looms threateningly. “What’s going on here?”
ALEJO: Alejo turns to Millie. His look is severe.
ALEJO: “Doc.”
MILLICENT: “Sir?”
STORY: There’s some scuffling downstairs as people move about. It sounds like someone’s coming up to the middle deck.
ALEJO: “I’m getting tired of playing games here.”
STORY: You’re on the upper deck, for the record.
MILLICENT: “Oh good!”
MILLICENT: “I’m so glad to hear it!”
MILLICENT: “Should we drop our pretenses?”
ALEJO: “Let’s.”
MILLICENT: “You’re on my ship and you haven’t had the courtesy yet to tell me we’ve been stolen away by bandits.”
MILLICENT: “We have been, haven’t we?”
TUELLER: “Of course.”
TUELLER: “Well. That was the idea, at least.”
ALEJO: “Seems like our caper hasn’t exactly gone as planned though.”
TUELLER: “That take-off wasn’t my idea.”
STORY: The intercom crackles to life again, briefly. “Boss, I figured out why the security system’s giving me so many problems.”
TUELLER: Tueller’s eying Millie, but watching the doorway for whatever’s moving around out there.
STORY: This message has been removed.
ALEJO: “Good to hear, Jac. What’s up?” Alejo’s voice is calm but his eyes are intently fixed on Millie.
STORY: “It’s not a system. The ship’s being run by an AI.” A long pause. “I can’t do anything with this.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods.
TUELLER: “You have a goddamn Ghost on this ship?”
TUELLER: Tueller sounds almost frightened.
STORY: — that’s a VERY good word, wow i’m stealing all your jargon
MILLICENT: Millie frowns. “That’s a pretty ugly slur between new friends, sir.”
ALEJO: “Well this just got a whole lot more interesting.”
TUELLER: “Fuck.”
MILLICENT: Millie laughs full throatedly, from the belly.
ALEJO: “Tell you what, Doc. Now that we’re dropping pretenses, open the med bay door. I’ve got an injured crew. Since we’re friends and all.”
STORY: A professional, bland female voice comes through the intercom. “I’ve already done so, Mr. Soto. Neither Dr. Breedlove nor I wish your crew any harm.”
TUELLER: Tueller looks downright antsy.
STORY: “But to be fair, you did board us.”
MILLICENT: “She’s right.”
MILLICENT: “You did board us. Rudely, I might add.”
STORY: “Very rudely.”
MILLICENT: ….
ALEJO: “I thought we were rather friendly about it, actually.” He seems genuinely stung.
MILLICENT: “Not as much a ‘by your leave’.”
MILLICENT: …
STORY: — i like that while this conversation is going on there’s a dramatic life-and-death medical drama happening offscreen
MILLICENT: “Well, the situation’s changed since your first assessment, Mr. …”
MILLICENT: DOT DOT DOT
MILLICENT: —Also that your best doctor is sitting for tea while it happens
STORY: The intercom answers. “Soto.”
TUELLER: “Ya’Makasi.”
STORY: “And Ya’Makasi.”
STORY: You speak in unison with the offputting computer voice.
MILLICENT: “Soto. Hello Mr. soto. Mr. Ya’Makasi, I already had your name.”
MILLICENT: “Oh. See?”
STORY: “My apologies for interrupting.”
MILLICENT: “That’s what I get for trying to. No, you’re fine.”
MILLICENT: “Gentlemen!”
TUELLER: “You listened in on your man?”
MILLICENT: Millie laughs.
STORY: “Is he maligning my research skills?”
STORY: “He is, isn’t he? How rude. Very rude, these two.”
TUELLER: “You’re my first Ghost.”
MILLICENT: “But maybe useful, No.”
STORY: “Millie, no.”
STORY: “We discussed this.”
MILLICENT: “Let’s. Let’s just. Let’s drop that particular usage, if you don’t mind.”
MILLICENT: “No.”
ALEJO: “Useful?”
MILLICENT: “Do you want some beribboned Scoutmaster?”
MILLICENT: “On this mission?”
ALEJO: Alejo gives a puzzled look to Tueller.
MILLICENT: “Do you want a chest full of commendations, a closet full of single purpose uniforms and a head full of the handbook?”
MILLICENT: “Because I think I might like a bandit, instead.”
STORY: “And if Erde-Maris wants their ship back when they find out what you intend for it?”
STORY: “And if your bandits here are not interested in your pursuits?”
MILLICENT: “Then we’re halfway to the Ark and they’re what? Going to deny that we’re above board? They wouldn’t dare, with our ship’s insignia?”
TUELLER: Tueller sits down and leans back in a crash chair.
MILLICENT: “And these bandits sat down to tea. They’re amenable.”
STORY: “They sat down to tea because they knew I’d throw them out of the ship if they didn’t.”
MILLICENT: Millie is talking to the ship without embarrassment.
MILLICENT: “So they’re clever bandits?”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “To be fair….ummm….ma’am, we came up to tea before we knew there was a Mind on board.”
STORY: You’re watching a doctor argue with a ship who is treating it very much like a concerned parent.
STORY: It’s an odd scene to witness.
ALEJO: Alejo nods.
MILLICENT: “Oh yes, of course, my apologies.”
MILLICENT: “Gentlemen.”
MILLICENT: “Why did you steal this ship?”
MILLICENT: “Presuming your theft had gone according to plan?”
TUELLER: Shrugging. “I didn’t want to be on Mars anymore.”
MILLICENT: —points for stu
ALEJO: Alejo smiles. “We . . . needed some space.”
STORY: “I can give you quite a bit of space if you’d step closer to the door, Mr. Soto.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “No spacing!” Closest to panic you’ve seen from him.
ALEJO: Alejo rolls his eyes. “I’m sure you can.”
MILLICENT: “I’ve got this Noma.”
MILLICENT: …
STORY: “Thank you for appreciating my humor subroutine.”
MILLICENT: “Gentlemen. I don’t believe you and I control the airlocks.”
STORY: — i love the disparity in responses to that “joke” threat
TUELLER: —Tueller has issues with hard vaccuum.
ALEJO: “I suppose you do, but you’re also in here with us, so maybe threats aren’t the best way to get us ‘bandits’ to talk.”
MILLICENT: —I mean, everyone OUGHT to have issues with hard vaccuum
MILLICENT: Millie leans forward. “I made you tea and I want to know what you want to steal.”
MILLICENT: …
ALEJO: “So far, we’ve leveled not a single threat, at least expressly. That could change. But let’s all be friends, as you said.”
MILLICENT: There’s an intensity in her gaze. She REALLY wants to know.
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “As for why we wanted to get off Mars…well, my family’s reputation has made it difficult for me to do so legitimately on the dirt planets..”
ALEJO: “And I’m stealing a ship to buy some time and, yeah, space. I owe some debts that I am not looking forward to paying right now.”
MILLICENT: Millie leans back, considering
TUELLER: “That’s not much of an excuse. I don’t have any place I need to be, but I’d prefer not to be down a gravity well for the moment.”
STORY: The speakers open a channel. “Millie, from what I’m finding here these men… could be amenable to your goals. I still advise against your plan, but they could be allies.”
STORY: “If you insist on angering Erde-Maris you will need someone to help you.”
STORY: “But I really think we should turn around and go pick up your grad students. I can still space everyone with 88% likelihood of success.”
TUELLER: —Probably should have spent some time thinking about what my character wanted to do with his life before five minutes ago.
MILLICENT: “Thanks, Noma. I’ll take your advice under consideration.”
STORY: “Most likely the big one will be hard to get through an airlock in one try.”
TUELLER: “I’ve faced worse odds.” Tueller shrugs.
STORY: — nah, he’s more flexible this way
MILLICENT: Millie eyes Tueller
TUELLER: “Nor would it be my first time out the door.”
MILLICENT: “Gentlemen.”
ALEJO: “Doc, I’d really appreciate it if Noma could ease up on the threats. They are disturbing my friend’s calm. Bad things happen when his calm is disturbed.”
MILLICENT: “Fair enough.”
MILLICENT: “Noma, would you please direct your attention to the autodoc in the sickbay and save their friend’s arm?”
STORY: “Yes, Millie.” Somehow, the robotic voice sounds annoyed, and the intercom shuts off.
MILLICENT: Millie stands up slowly, with her palms extended, half joking, and makes her way to a white cardboard box that hasn’t been upacked yet.
MILLICENT: Millie pulls out a bottle filled to the top with brown liquid.
MILLICENT: —tradition!
STORY: You hear a shout from downstairs. “Did that robot arm just move by itself??!”
MILLICENT: She pours herself two fingers of the liquid and offers the other four around the table.
TUELLER: Tueller serves Alejo first.
ALEJO: Alejo accepts with a smile.
TUELLER: then hands the bottle to Alejo so he can pour for Tueller.
TUELLER: (Obviously a weird tradition)
ALEJO: “Thanks.” He then returns the pour.
TUELLER: Tueller lifts his glass so he can smell whatever it is.
ALEJO: — Excellent detail! You’re a rockstar at this.
MILLICENT: —it’s whiskey of some kind
ALEJO: “What’s the occasion, Doctor?”
MILLICENT: —I’d like to believe it’s very good borboun
MILLICENT: “Our new partnership.”
TUELLER: “With Earther liquor? This is quite auspicious.”
MILLICENT: “I finagled this starship for a mission that Erde-
MILLICENT: Maris doesn’t really care for, but they can’t deny.”
MILLICENT: Millie stops, composing her thoughts.
ALEJO: Alejo glances at Tueller, trying to assess his sense of the situation.
MILLICENT: “That’s where you come in.”
TUELLER: Tueller is still and unresponsive so far.
MILLICENT: “If we’re an Erde-Maris ship, well, we’d be technically on a diplimatic learning mission to gather whatever education and intelligence the generosity of the galaxy could give.”
MILLICENT: “But if this ship were stolen from dock, well, then if it stole alien technology and returned it, covertly, to Erde-Maris scientists, then it could be denied extensively.”
MILLICENT: ….
MILLICENT: “I imagine you’ve got your own cause or pockets to line, which sounds to me like the cost of doing business.”
MILLICENT: …
TUELLER: “Hmmm. That sounds…profitable.”
MILLICENT: “I need a captain and crew who can pull off the theft of actual alien technology.”
MILLICENT: “Or at least get me close enough to alien science to observe and report.”
TUELLER: “Well shit.”
MILLICENT: “I don’t think I’m going to get that with the stuffed shirts in the Erde-Maris.
TUELLER: “That’s much less boring than Mars.”
MILLICENT: “But outside contractors might be able to do it.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods.
MILLICENT: “I could use a partner.”
TUELLER: “I don’t work for my family, you understand.”
ALEJO: Alejo smiles. He picks up his glass, looks to Tueller and then lifts the glass. “That’s not what I expected.”
TUELLER: “I’m not here under official cover for the Ya’Makasi.”
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “I AM here under official cover for the Erde-Maris, but I don’t mind enriching you or the gas planets while I’m at it.”
ALEJO: “And I do work for his family, but . . . I’m also not here under official over for the Ya’Makasi family.” He smiles sheepishly.
TUELLER: “I am, however, a Ya’Makasi.”
TUELLER: ….
TUELLER: “8th son of my family, but a Ya’Makasi nonetheless. And as a member of my family, I am afforded certain…leniance in any port my family has dealings with.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “A certain amount of diplomatic immunity. Anyone not openly at war with my family, as part of a solar system wide understanding, under threat of war, will pass over my section of the cargo.”
TUELLER: “And a threat of war from my family is very very real.”
MILLICENT: “I’m not good at politics. Is that a yes?”
TUELLER: “This is the only truly interesting offer I’ve received inside the Belt.”
TUELLER: “Of course it’s a fucking yes.”
MILLICENT: “That’s great news! Are you the captain?”
TUELLER: “I hit things and I buy and sell things.”
MILLICENT: “You’re certainly the tallest! I understand these things are determined by height.”
ALEJO: “He’s very good at both.”
ALEJO: Alejo smiles at this, uncertain if it’s a joke or not.
MILLICENT: It’s definitely not
TUELLER: “Out in the gassers I am average height.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “I am, however, above average strong.”
TUELLER: Shrugs. “Good genes, and a home that kept me reasonably radiation free.”
TUELLER: “I’m no captain. Your Ghost, she the captain?”
MILLICENT: “I don’t think so. Noma, do you want to be the captain?”
STORY: “I do not. Thank you for asking.”
MILLICENT: “Of course! Thank you for your help this evening.”
MILLICENT: …
STORY: “At least two members of our crew have experienced increased heart rates when encountering Mr. Soto. I recommend he serve as captain.”
MILLICENT: “Oh!”
MILLICENT: “He IS handsome!”
ALEJO: Alejo rises his eyes at Noma’s statement. And now at Millie’s. “Ahh, thanks.” He says quietly.
STORY: “I wouldn’t know.”
TUELLER: “Hath not a Ghost eyes?”
STORY: “A fool thinks himself to be wise, but a wise man knows himself to be a fool, Mr. Ya’Makasi.”
TUELLER: “Your Mind has a classical education, Doctor.”
STORY: “Your spy’s arm will recover, Mr. Soto.”
ALEJO: “Glad to hear it. Thank you, Noma.”
MILLICENT: To Alejo, sweetly. “Would you like to be captain, dear?”
ALEJO: “Well, I’m not sure what that would entail, honestly. But the crew is mine. Don’t get me wrong, we all have a healthy respect for Tueller here.”
MILLICENT: Millie laughs.
MILLICENT: “Oh good, a healthy respect is very useful.”
MILLICENT: “I’ll need an assistant, of course. One who won’t fall over himself doing my scut work would be best.”
MILLICENT: “See that you send someone down.”
ALEJO: “Isn’t Tariq your assistant?”
MILLICENT: “Set a course for Mercury and send my assistant to my quarters,” Millie says as she exits to the science lab.
STORY: SWOOSH