MILLICENT: “They thrive on adventure, Emma! Their meat is combat and their drink is…other kinds of combat!”
STORY: She looks down at your hands. “Obviously.”
TUELLER: “Whiskey, actually.”
MILLICENT: “And whiskey!”
MILLICENT: “The tall one drank the Scotch we were saving!”
TUELLER: “It was alright.”
STORY: Her jaw drops, an unusual show of emotion. “You’re kidding me.”
TUELLER: “You’d be better off with a scotch from Enceladus, if we’re being honest. I’ll see if I can get you some next time we’re in port.”
TUELLER: “It was overcasked.”
STORY: “The Balvenie Nikka… my father rescued that from his commission when they broke apart in the Nier asteroid belt.”
TUELLER: Shrugging. “Overcasked. You’re better off without it.”
TUELLER: Tueller raises an eyebrow at Millie’s “executions” comment.
TUELLER: He starts absentmindly wiggling his fingers.
STORY: Millie, Tariq has a split lip. He dabs it with the corner of his scrubs as he moves in to assist you and pulls a mask over his face. The soldiers remain at attention, guns not pointed directly at anyone but ready to be so.
STORY: The rest of the crew is standing or sitting awkwardly about the cargo bay area, as if they were rounded up and told to assemble here. A soccer ball someone had made the week before out of a jumble of plastic bags and used tape lies in the center of the area.
MILLICENT: Loudly, to the soldiers, “We need to take it to the lab. Do you intend to stop us?”
TUELLER: Tueller is moving to assist our alien friend whether they move to stop us or not.
TUELLER: Tueller is not acting threateningly other than being nearly seven feet tall.
STORY: A few soldiers glance at each other. One young woman lowers her gun and steps forward. “Where’s the lab?”
ALEJO: Alejo looks around at the crew, trying to size up if they are all alright. Assuming so, he gestures for someone to help carry the stretcher.
TUELLER: “I got her, Doc. Let’s go.”
MILLICENT: Millie hands her end of the stretcher to Tueller.
STORY: “Hey!” The soldier points her gun toward, but not at, you, assuming a ready position. “I said where’s the lab?”
MILLICENT: “Up the central column before the galley.”
STORY: She looks around at the others, then nods. “Okay. Let’s go.”
MILLICENT: Millie leads the way, striding confidently up the stairs.
STORY: The soldier follows you, checking corners as the four of you go.
TUELLER: “Careful with that gun, fella. We’re in space, after all.”
MILLICENT: “Take it to the science lab.” Millie stands at the door to the armory/med lab.
STORY: Tariq looks confused. “To the sci– yes, Doctor.”
TUELLER: —It’s official. I ate too much.
STORY: She looks at it briefly, then at the walls. “She’ll hold. Most bullets can’t pierce a well-made hull.”
TUELLER: “Most.”
MILLICENT: To the soldiers, “I’m going to need some medical supplies from here. Please be careful not to shoot me while I retrieve them.”
ALEJO: — Did Admiral Randd order Alejo to someplace for questioning?
ALEJO: — Cause unless someone is stopping him, he’s going with the group to the med bay.
STORY: — yeah, to the galley, also upstairs. I forgot that this was supposed to be taking place in the med lab, I’m gonna retcon that to say everyone was hanging in the cargo bay to make it easier
ALEJO: —right.
MILLICENT: Millie steps into the armory/med lab. Loudly, “Will anyone be shooting me for retrieving medical equipment?”
STORY: The soldier looks flustered. “No, just –”
MILLICENT: —sorry I musta goofed it
STORY: She leans over the rail to call down. “Can I get some help up here?”
MILLICENT: “Good!” Millie grabs a few handfuls of things and starts handing them in bundles to the soldier.
MILLICENT: After a few handfuls she’s through and heads back over to the science lab, past the soldier.
STORY: Two male soldiers come walking upstairs at an easy pace, one flanking the edge of the stairway, one near the door towards the galley. The one near the galley raises his eyebrows toward Alejo. “Weren’t you asked to speak to the Admiral?”
STORY: The female soldier does her best to help you carry equipment, looking a little overwhelmed while she does her best not to drop anything, her rifle dangling on its strap at her side.
ALEJO: Alejo shrugs. “They needed help moving the patient. Where’s the Admiral now?”
STORY: He juts his chin back. “Galley.”
MILLICENT: Back in the science lab Millie gets back to work on her patient, pushing up her elbows and talking to herself
MILLICENT: “No one dies on this ship that I don’t specifically wish to die,”
ALEJO: Alejo moves over to Millie. “You got his?”
TUELLER: Tueller helps out, keeping an eye warily on the rifle.
ALEJO: “I’m being summoned, apparently.”
TUELLER: “Yell if they’re trying to kill you.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods with a wry smile. He then turns and heads to the galley.
MILLICENT: Millie nods. “Yes, yes. No one dies.”
TUELLER: “Try to avoid it, at least.”
STORY: Alejo, you step into the galley just as Admiral Randd is walking back in from the kitchen area. She moves smoothly and with long strides. A deep, ragged scar runs along her jawline and down below her collar on the right side of her neck. She is carrying two mugs of steaming liquid, and places one down in front of you.
STORY: She untucks the box of tea bags from your kitchen from her elbow and takes out two bags, dropping one in hers and gesturing to you before doing so. “Tea?”
ALEJO: “Please.”
STORY: She drops the second bag into your mug. Then, raising an eyebrow at you, she steps back into the kitchen briefly before returning with a tea towel and handing it to you. You remember your face is covered in a not negligible amount of orange Maitri blood.
STORY: “Admiral Randd, Erde-Maris Navy. I’m afraid you have me at a disadvantage – Peregrine’s computers are locked down to us, somehow, despite this being my ship. My overrides aren’t functioning, which means you’re either very smart or very dangerous. But I’m ahead of myself. What shall I call you?”
ALEJO: Alejo takes the tea towel and wipes away some of the blood before answering. “Admiral, huh. I thought that this was a civilian academic ship?”
ALEJO: “And I’m Alejo Soto.”
ALEJO: He then reaches out and takes a swig of the tea.
STORY: “Dr. Breedlove is a civilian, of course. We own the ship, on loan to her through the university. It was going to be a collaboration, until you stole my ship.”
STORY: “So Mr. Soto, why don’t you tell me why you did that?”
ALEJO: Alejo raises his eyebrows at this. “Trust me when I say that we really didn’t.”
STORY: She takes a sip of her tea. “I’ll bite.”
STORY: “Who did?”
ALEJO: Alejo tilts his head slightly, sizing her up over the mug of tea. “Honestly?”
ALEJO: “It was more a joint venture sort of thing.”
STORY: She laughs, a genuine smile accompanying it, and leans back in her seat a little.
STORY: She sighs. “I had suspected Dr. Breedlove wouldn’t enjoy working within a military structure.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods thoughtfully. “She doesn’t seem to be much for structure. Of any sort.”
STORY: “No, she doesn’t.” She takes out a small device with a backlit screen, taps something onto it. “All right, Mr. Soto. While I find out who you are, why don’t you tell me what we ought to do with you.”
ALEJO: “Give me and my crew a huge bonus for helping the Doc and keeping your ship intact?” He says this with a self-conscious smile.
STORY: Let’s see how this is going to go – let’s have Face Adversity + Influence
ALEJO: 6+3=9 + 2 = 11
STORY: She smiles, keeping eye contact. “I don’t think I can do that, Mr. Soto, but I do have some ideas. What do you intend to do with her?”
ALEJO: “The ship? Well, see we didn’t realize she was yours, so looks like our joint venture has just expanded a bit more.”
ALEJO: “What’s your understanding of what the Doc was going to do with the ship?”
TUELLER: —You got a good roll! You’re persuasive! Persuade her!
STORY: “Research and acquistion.”
ALEJO: “We’re a little more into the acquisition part of that. Seems like that could be beneficial for everyone.”
STORY: She looks down at her pad. She laughs, then straightens her face. “You’re famous.”
STORY: She turns it around and shows you a picture of yourself, fifteen years ago.
ALEJO: “I had a moment in the spotlight. As a kid.”
ALEJO: “Terrible picture.” He shakes his head.
STORY: “I thought I recognized your accent – Titan? You were one of those kids whose parents died. Roti paraded you around to recruit. Am I remembering this correctly?”
ALEJO: Alejo nods.
ALEJO: “That’s me.”
ALEJO: “And my sister.”
STORY: “I wrote my thesis on Roti dan Garam’s recruiting methodology. They’re very smart.”
STORY: “Sorry about your parents.”
ALEJO: “Thank you.” He says this softly.
STORY: “Anyway.” She straightens up. “Reassure me you and your crew are no danger to my ship or to Dr. Breedlove, please.”
TUELLER: —Is Roti Dan Garam named after an Indian snack?
ALEJO: Alejo straightens up as well. “Admiral, my crew, Tueller and I are absolutely no danger to you, your ship or the Doc. To the contrary, we’ve gone to pretty great lengths to keep everyone safe and sound.”
STORY: — bread and salt
MILLICENT: —haha shit that’s dark
TUELLER: —Heh.
STORY: She looks at you for a long moment, making some kind of decision.
STORY: Then, a small nod. “All right. You’re free to return to your crew. Please send in the tall one next.”
ALEJO: Alejo smiles, stands and picks up his tea to finish it. “I appreciate it.”
STORY: “And Mr. Soto.”
STORY: “You were never of any danger to me.”
ALEJO: He then heads back to med to check on how things are going there.
STORY: Back in the med bay, Millie, let’s have a Patch Up roll now for the Maitri
STORY: Who is, it should be said, not doing well.
TUELLER: Tueller is assisting. He’s got some experience in combat medicine, but nothing too specialized.
STORY: Tariq is scrambling to close all her wounds, temporarily clamping what he can. He gestures to the female soldier, pulling her over. “Here – hold this. Push hard.” He presses her hands onto a cloth on T’chololl’s side.
MILLICENT: This is my first Patch Up roll
MILLICENT: Is that Expertise plus Patch Up bonuses?
TUELLER: (You patched up the Canary when you were drifting off into space)
STORY: Roll + expertise. You have bonuses?
MILLICENT: I think so. We’re (near) a med bay
MILLICENT: I think I get a bonus for equipment
STORY: Oh, that just gives you the opportunity to make this roll. Normally, she’d be dead without a hospital.
TUELLER: I don’t think we get bonuses for equipment. I think we just get to make rolls if we have equipment.
STORY: Right.
STORY: Tariq directs you a bit, Tueller. “Unwrap those, lay them out on the tray for Dr. Breedlove. Bring up fresh bandages from there -” pointing at a drawer in the bottom of the cart Millie brought.
MILLICENT: Sorry, I’m looking it up
TUELLER: Tueller does as Tariq requests.
ALEJO: Alejo moves into the bay, trying to stay out of the way but wanting to observe.
STORY: There’s a lot of orange, Alejo
TUELLER: Tueller is all business when it comes to this. He takes it seriously.
STORY: Nothing gives you a bonus, Millie, let’s roll
MILLICENT: Yeah, no bonus
MILLICENT: 10
STORY: All right! Choose from list:
• Treat a single minor, major or severe injury/damage
• Treat a malfunction or minor debility
• Stabilize a major debility
• Perform a medical/technical procedure
MILLICENT: I’d like to use Surgery to treat critical wounds
STORY: (this is a critical injury, so you should choose the last one)
STORY: Yep
STORY: Ok. It’s going to take you an hour or so, but you should be able to get the bullets out and most of her wounds closed. It’s going to be shitty, tiring work, and she’s going to need a long time to recover.
MILLICENT: Can you tell me the problem? I’d like to come up with some weird science.
MILLICENT: Like, the area?
STORY: She has many holes in her and very little blood left. Why don’t you come up with a way to get Maitri blood or a good substitute?
MILLICENT: I send Tariq to get some spare parts and a cannister of EVA fuel.
ALEJO: At the most opportune moment he can see, Alejo will slide up near Tueller and whisper, “When you get free, you’ve been summoned to the Admiral. She’s smart but I don’t think she’s interested in spacing us. Play it business-like.”
MILLICENT: I’m going to give this Maitri inert jet fuel for blood and install a filtration system in her chest to help the rest of her body accept it.
STORY: He starts to leave, then the female soldier sort of objects, and he shakes his head and pushes past her. She looks torn on whether to follow and let the Maitri go back to bleeding from this hole in her side.
STORY: Holy shit, a filtration system, like with metal parts?
MILLICENT: YES
STORY: You’re going to Tony Stark her?
MILLICENT: I am going to make this Maitri a cyborg
STORY: Jesus, okay. Making robot people over here.
STORY: She’s already eight feet tall, damn
STORY: Okay. Millie starts to do… strange things involving metal parts elsewhere in the lab, leaving Tueller and this soldier behind to hold closed the wounds. She looks up at Tueller nervously.
MILLICENT: Now she’s going to have a glowing triquetra in her chest
STORY: 
/
STORY: To Tueller: “Is she… going to be okay?”
TUELLER: Tueller smiles at the soldier. “Your first Maitri?”
MILLICENT: —lol
STORY: She nods.
MILLICENT: —damn near choked on my bourbon
TUELLER: “This is my second. I beat the first one to death. They’re tough. She’ll be fine if the Doc gets her way.”
STORY: Her eyes widen and she blows air out of her mouth, looking down, eyes wide.
TUELLER: “The orange tint to their blood means….well, probably something that the Doc’s figured out.”
TUELLER: “Maybe they’re silicon based. Maybe they’re cold blooded. Something like that.”
MILLICENT: To herself, mostly, “It’s non-linear plasma chains, I think.”
MILLICENT: “It better be, anyway.”
TUELLER: “She seemed sweet, while she was conscious. Helped us out, at least. Not voluntarily, but she did it.”
MILLICENT: Millie smiles excitedly at Tueller, then back to the Maitri.
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs.
STORY: The soldier’s eyes widen further. She’s sweating a little.
STORY: Blows hair out of her eyes.
TUELLER: “Relax. She’s in good hands.” She’s literally in Tueller’s hands right now.
TUELLER: Tueller smiles at the soldier, being…charming? Maybe?
STORY: She smiles back.
STORY: Hesitantly.
MILLICENT: To the soldier, “Speaking of plasma, I’m going to need to do some welding later. You can hold a gun to my head while I do if it helps your nerves,”
MILLICENT: Millie smiles her most comforting smile. It’s terrifying.
STORY: She looks at you like you might bite her. “Just… doing my job, ma’am.”
STORY: — is tueller going to talk to the admiral?
TUELLER: —Has anyone told him to go yet?
TUELLER: —If so I missed it.
MILLICENT: —alejo did
ALEJO: —Yup.
TUELLER: —Give him a reminder.
ALEJO: Alejo moves back towards Tueller and whispers, “Admiral’s patient, but, you really should try to get in there soon. I don’t want to burn whatever goodwill I managed to get us.”
TUELLER: “Pardon me, ummm…what’s your name?” To the soldier.
TUELLER: As an aside, to Alejo. “You ready to step in here?”
ALEJO: “Remember, business-like. Use some of that new-found charm.” He says this with a smile. “Yeah, I think I can take over.”
TUELLER: Tueller’s waiting for the soldier to tell me her name.
ALEJO: Alejo steps over, ready to take Tueller’s place when he’s ready.
STORY: “Jenny.”
TUELLER: Tueller smiles at Alejo and says “Of course!” before turning back to the soldier with a smile. “I’ll see you in a little bit? Take care of these guys, Jenny.”
STORY: “Wait, no. Ensign Nilsson.”
STORY: “Damn it.” She says to herself.
TUELLER: He looks at Alejo, and they wordlessly smoothly switch off without easing up on pressure on the Maitri’s wounds.
TUELLER: “See you, Jenny.”
TUELLER: Tueller heads off to find the Admiral.
ALEJO: Alejo smirks at this slip and gives Tueller a quick nod as he takes Tueller’s place. “Hello. Ensign Nilsson.”
TUELLER: ….
TUELLER: As Tueller leaves, he says “Take it easy on her, Ejo. It’s her first Maitri.”
TUELLER: Okay, he leaves the room then.
STORY: Tueller, when you enter the room, Admiral Randd looks up at you and begins to gesture toward the seat, then furrows her brow and stands up quickly, cocking her head slightly to the side.
STORY: She moves to the other side of the table and pulls out a chair for you.
TUELLER: Tueller reaches out his hand to shake, only then realizing they’re covered in orange blood.
STORY: She does not make eye contact, looking down at the seat, waiting for you to sit.
TUELLER: “Pardon me.” He walks over to the bar towel and wipes it off.
TUELLER: “You want a drink?”
STORY: She is still just standing next to the chair, holding its back, waiting for you to take it, looking down. You realize she is showing deference.
STORY: It was familiar to you in a past life, less so since you struck out on your own.
TUELLER: “I’m going to have a drink. You’re welcome to one if you want.” Tueller pours himself a drink and then takes his seat, nodding in thanks.
STORY: She disappears quickly into the kitchen, coming back a moment later with the electric kettle, a clean tea towel, and a clean mug and spoon. She bows to you as she enters, puts the items down on the table, and begins to clean the spoon and the mug. You know the deal here.
STORY: She rips open one of the bags of tea and pours the leaves into the mug, then pours the water over top, running the spoon along the rim of the mug in a ritual fashion, before stirring it three times, removing it, wiping it again, and offering it to you, bowing a second time.
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: Tueller takes the mug and sets it to the side. “Cut the horseshit and have a sip of this Tritan vodka instead.”
TUELLER: “I appreciate the gesture, but I also don’t.”
TUELLER: “You know who I am. I got it.”
STORY: She sighs, finally looking up at you, and nods. “All right. Mr. Ya’Makasi, I apologize for the reception earlier. I hadn’t recognized you, and forgive me, I did not expect you to be onboard my ship.”
STORY: “I’m hoping… your presence here is in an unofficial capacity?” She takes the vodka and pours out the tea on the deck, filling the mug with some of the vodka and taking a sip.
STORY: “Erde-Maris and Consolidated Jovan have thus far enjoyed a policy of, to put it simply, leaving each other the hell alone.”
STORY: “Are you here as a representative of the families?”
TUELLER: “Cut the deferential shit. I am Ya’Makasi. You know my family. You know the consequences of abuse of a Ya’Makasi family member. But beyond not being murdered, I would prefer that you treat me like any other very talented and capable man you meet in the system.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “I am, as you say, not here as a member of the Family.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “That is a good policy, as you say. Leaving each other alone. I will remind you, just casually, that my family has a tendency to drop rocks on people who kill members of my family.”
STORY: She nods. “Excellent. Then I shall forget we had this conversation and make no mention of your presence here in my report.” She stands. “Please pass on my best wishes to your sister.”
TUELLER: “Which sister do you deal with?”
STORY: She laughs. “Typically, none of them. But I was referring to Esinam.”
TUELLER: Tueller sighs. “Esi. Okay. Yes. I shall do so, Admiral.”
TUELLER: “Shall we do business, then?”
STORY: She looks confused. “What sort of business did you have in mind?”
STORY: “Wait – did you recover something from the base on Mercury?”
TUELLER: “That’s for the Doc to determine. I mean simply: why is an E-M Admiral here for a wayward ship?”
STORY: “Quite honestly, Mr. Ya’Makasi, Dr. Breedlove departed before we were finished retrofitting the ship. I am here to install the armaments. And to find out who stole her.”
STORY: “I seem to have an understanding of the latter. Are you aware of Dr. Breedlove’s choice in the former?”
STORY: “Or your choice? Who is captaining this ship?”
TUELLER: “In reverse order: We’re an anarcho-syndicalist commune, currently. It’s our choice. The Doc….has not been terribly forthcoming about her choices thus far, but our goals are not terribly far apart.”
TUELLER: “We are merely borne on the solar wind, to wherever the universe takes us.”
STORY: “Well then. We can wait until Dr. Breedlove is finished with her work or you can come with me now and let my soldiers know what to install.”
TUELLER: —by “her work” does she mean the surgery?
STORY: — yep
TUELLER: “Well.” Tueller leans forward. “What’ve you got?” He smiles in a not entirely friendly sort of way.
STORY: She pulls out a pad and taps it a few times. Some images come up, and she swipes through them. “Energy cannons – forward only. Good stopping power, capable of damaging shields and hull breach. However, small craft will have no problem dodging them.”
STORY: “Point defense turrets. We can install two, it’ll cover you forward and aft from being boarded. Swift weaponry, not heavy enough to do anything to a ship, but it can take out debris, asteroids, missiles, and small enemy craft.”
TUELLER: “And people, of course.”
STORY: “And people.”
STORY: Swipe. “Launchers fire single high yield payloads. Good if you’ll have a source of missiles, bad if you get into fights with more than one craft at a time.”
STORY: Swipe. “And mine layers, for leaving behind a cloud of proximity traps. They can move a little, but mostly they’re good for keeping someone off your tail. If you launch them in atmo, they hit whatever’s below you.”
STORY: “Not that you’ll be needing any of these, but you’ve got room for one on the standard install. What’ll it be?”
TUELLER: Tueller does not hesitate at all. “Point Defense Turrets.”
TUELLER: “People have already shot missiles at me once today.”
STORY: She nods. “Crew will get started. If there’s nothing else, Mr. Ya’Makasi?”
TUELLER: “Admiral, go easy on the Doc.”
STORY: “Oh? Why’s that?”
STORY: “As I understand it, she stole my ship. A ship I was already lending her.”
STORY: “Why on earth would she do that?”
TUELLER: “Because I’d like her to relax a little bit, and she won’t do that if you come down hard on her.”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs.
STORY: “Understood. You’re free to go, Mr. Ya’Makasi.”
TUELLER: “As are you, Admiral.”
TUELLER: Tueller nods, and goes to leave the room.
TUELLER: —I have a cat who is aggressively trying to get on my keyboard right now.
STORY: Randd follows you out, and nods to the soldiers standing with you as she heads down the stairs without greeting anyone else. “Nilsson, get your hands out of that alien please,” she says as she descends.
STORY: Jenny looks up at Tueller, panicked. “Can you..?”
TUELLER: Tueller walks over and takes over for her, touching her hands as he guides his own to where she was applying pressure.
TUELLER: “My pleasure, Jenny.”
STORY: She jumps a little when you do, then looks up at you blushing. “Thanks. Um, sorry.” She steps back and wipes blood off her hands by wiping them awkwardly on her legs, then takes up her rifle again.
ALEJO: Alejo shakes his head at this. Once the Ensign is gone, he looks up to Tueller: “How’d it go?”
TUELLER: To Alejo. “It went fine. We’re getting some guns.”
TUELLER: “PDTs. In case we get more missile fire. So you don’t have to outfly it all.”
MILLICENT: “Good, Tueller, very nice. Just hold them there a moment…” Millie is hunched over a work table welding something. She finishes and her body blocks the installation process, but there is a soft hum and a light orange glow coming from where she is elbow deep in an alien chest cavity. Tueller feels his hands holding the alien bits together move together with a soft click.
MILLICENT: 
STORY: aw.
MILLICENT: The Maitri’s chest now has a triquetra pumping inert jet fuel through it’s system
MILLICENT: Iron Man style
TUELLER: “That’s unexpected, Doc.”
ALEJO: “Wow. That’s some fix, Doc.” Alejo admires the work.
MILLICENT: Millie slumps back into a lean on a counter.
MILLICENT: “Her third heart was almost gone. Needed a pump and some back-up blood. So.” Millie grins. “Jet fuel.”
STORY: Tariq starts to close up.
ALEJO: “So, guns?” Alejo’s interest is piqued. He turns to the Doc. “I really thought this was an ‘academic’ mission, at least as it originally was billed.”
ALEJO: “What am I missing?”
TUELLER: Tueller steps in to whisper so only Millie can hear. “They don’t know about Noma?”
ALEJO: “Why’s this Admiral even here and why’s she now offering us guns?”
MILLICENT: Millie shakes her head at Tueller and Alejo. “Time and place, gentlemen.”
MILLICENT: “It wouldn’t do to keep the admiral waiting, I’m sure.”
TUELLER: “The admiral is here to check up on a misplaced ship. She’s offering us guns because I am Ya’Makasi.”
TUELLER: “Also the ship was supposed to have guns.”
ALEJO: “My point.”
MILLICENT: Millie started to correct Tueller and drops her finger as soon as he says the last thing.
MILLICENT: “Oh.”
ALEJO: “Why’s an academic mission ship supposed to have guns?”
MILLICENT: “This ship was always intended for a mission of research and.”
MILLICENT: Millie looks embarrassed. “Ah. Aquisition.”
TUELLER: “We just acquired it too soon for the acquisition installation.”
MILLICENT: “I just didn’t want to leave it to beaureucrats.”
MILLICENT: Millie walks out on that line.
TUELLER: Tueller follows.
TUELLER: “Coming, Jenny?”
MILLICENT: “I believe I’m meant to have a private interview, dear.
ALEJO: Alejo also leaves, but heads to check on the rest of the crew.
STORY: For clarity: Randd went back downstairs to the cargo hold where everyone is
MILLICENT: oh
STORY: So you’re probably all going to the same place, except Tariq, who is still closing up and getting an IV for the Maitri.
MILLICENT: well
MILLICENT: nevermind
TUELLER: No interview was requested.
MILLICENT: —haha whoops
MILLICENT: Millie goes downstairs
STORY: Tariq gestures to Jenny. “Can I get a hand please?” He looks ready to lift the cot T’chololl Thasht lies on.
STORY: Jenny grabs two handles and lifts, starting to carry the Maitri to the med bay.
TUELLER: —You’re distracting my NPC!
STORY: She shrugs at you, Tueller. “Sorry!”
TUELLER: “Later, then.” Tueller smiles.
STORY: So the three of you head downstairs?
TUELLER: Indeed
ALEJO: That’s where Alejo is headed, yes.
MILLICENT: yes
STORY: Randd is downstairs, finishing up some orders to three of her soldiers, who sling their rifles onto their backs and head to the airlock.
STORY: The rest of the crew looks a little more relaxed, given that no one is currently pointing any guns at them.
STORY: She looks up at the three of you. “Ah. Finished, Dr. Breedlove?”
MILLICENT: “I am, admiral. I believe my patient will live.” She looks justifiably proud about this.
STORY: She juts out a lip, impressed. “Hm.”
STORY: “Would you rather speak in private, or with your comrades?”
STORY: She gestures to Alejo and Tueller.
MILLICENT: Millie takes a long moment.
ALEJO: Alejo studies her in that moment.
MILLICENT: “I think we should talk here, Admiral.” Millie’s voice is maybe overly formal.
STORY: The Admiral nods, leaning back to sit on a cargo container nearby. “Well then! Why don’t you catch me up.”
TUELLER: Tueller relaxes off to the side, leaning on the Gregor.
ALEJO: Alejo stands in the informal circle, easy but alert.
MILLICENT: Millie’s facade breaks and she grins hugely. “I found pirates, Emma! Real, actual thieves!”
MILLICENT: “They snuck on to my ship in an Erde-Maris yard! How could I resist?”
STORY: She buries her head in her hand.
MILLICENT: She laughs, three peals of genuine laughter
STORY: “The upgrades weren’t even finished, Millicent.”
STORY: “You took off without armaments. Do you know what could have happened to this ship?”
MILLICENT: “Do you think I could have gotten my bold pirates to sit around and wait for checklists and procedure?”
ALEJO: Alejo sighs and shakes his head, more bemused than surprised.
TUELLER: “There were lots of ships in that yard, Admiral.”
MILLICENT: “They thrive on adventure, Emma! Their meat is combat and their drink is…other kinds of combat!”
STORY: She looks down at your hands. “Obviously.”
TUELLER: “Whiskey, actually.”
MILLICENT: “And whiskey!”
MILLICENT: “The tall one drank the Scotch we were saving!”
TUELLER: “It was alright.”
STORY: Her jaw drops, an unusual show of emotion. “You’re kidding me.”
TUELLER: ….
TUELLER: “You’d be better off with a scotch from Enceladus, if we’re being honest. I’ll see if I can get you some next time we’re in port.”
TUELLER: “It was overcasked.”
STORY: “The Balvenie Nikka… my father rescued that from his commission when they broke apart in the Nier asteroid belt.”
TUELLER: Shrugging. “Overcasked. You’re better off without it.”
STORY: She takes a deep breath, resets.
STORY: “Tell me the plan, Dr. Breedlove.”
TUELLER: “I’ll see if I can find an Enceladus 25. It’s very peaty from the cryovolcanic activity.”
TUELLER: “Those Jacobites know how to make a whiskey.”
STORY: Randd rubs her temples.
ALEJO: “Peaty from the cryovolcanic activity? Seriously? You’re the worst, you know that right.” Alejo says this lightly.
MILLICENT: Fast, excited, “It’s mostly the same, but not we’ve got resources, options we never had before! This crew, they’re not.” Millie pauses, weakly smiles at the soldiers surrounding her. “Dutiful?”
MILLICENT: “Tied down! Asleep! They’ve got skin in the game! They’re not working out a pension or following a rulebook! We couldn’t have created this kind of opportunity!”
TUELLER: Tueller shrugs at Alejo, noncommittally. He clearly does not believe he’s the worst.
STORY: Randd tilts her head back, seems to examine the catwalk above her, exhales deeply. “Details, Millie. How do you want this to work?”
STORY: “I cannot have an Erde-Maris navy ship under the command of these two.”
ALEJO: Alejo winces, a mock show of pain and hurt.
MILLICENT: “Oh, well. That’s why they stole it.”
TUELLER: “Oh, no one is in command. I told you, we’re an anarcho syndicalist crew.”
MILLICENT: “Can’t you, you know, keep the search for the ship purely theoretical?”
ALEJO: He then nods at Tueller’s comment, in agreement.
STORY: “Fine.” She takes out her pad, tapping some notes. “I’m going to mark this ship as stolen, chopped and destroyed in the Erde-Maris database, and you and Dr. Guosin as never having been on board. In exchange for this extraordinary act of largesse, you are going to take this ship outside of our system, get it modded and the serials wiped, and bring me the interesting alien tech you find before you show it to any other buyers, agreed?”
TUELLER: Tueller looks up at this.
TUELLER: Not saying anything, but looking intently.
MILLICENT: “That’s going to be a wrinkle. How about, very often I’ll bring you the interesting alien tech I find before I show it to other buyers, but sometimes, as market forces out here in the wine dark sea of space dictate, I will occasionally bring the interesting alien tech to other buyers slightly before you?”
TUELLER: “I will remind you who my sister is.”
STORY: “Don’t push me, Millie. Our agreement was that your pursuit was for the advancement of humanity.”
STORY: “I’m not a godsdamn arms dealer.”
MILLICENT: “Erde-Maris isn’t all of humanity, Emma.”
STORY: She looks exasperated. “Do I have your word any new tech will be offered to humans first?”
TUELLER: —props for “wine dark sea,” btw.
TUELLER: “Do you consider my sister to be human?”
STORY: — he’s been reading the Odyssey
STORY: “Of course.”
TUELLER: “I question that myself from time to time.”
MILLICENT: “Absolutely!”
MILLICENT: Enthusiastic
STORY: Randd shakes her head, disappointed. “Fine.” She points to Millie. “You owe me.” She moves her finger over to Alejo, passing by Tueller. “And you owe me.” She crosses her arms. “All right?”
TUELLER: “Let me know where I can ship a case of the Enceladus.”
MILLICENT: Contrite, but excited, “All right, Emma.”
MILLICENT: “Admiral.”
STORY: “That won’t be necessary, Mr. Ya’Makasi. Dr. Breedlove, my men will be done in a few hours. Until then, why don’t we talk about Mercury.”
STORY: “Which we are currently in orbit around.”
STORY: “Why’s that?”
MILLICENT: Millie nods discreetly to Tueller about the Scotch.
MILLICENT: “Oh! We robbed the joint!”
STORY: She rubs her head. “Of what.”
MILLICENT: “Great question! I’m going to need some time in my lab to figure that out. I think it’s a new kind of battery, but I can’t be sure without running a battery of tests.”
MILLICENT: Millie lights up
MILLICENT: “Battery of tests!”
STORY: She sighs, then reaches for a radio on her hip, pushing the button. “Mueller, what’s your ETA on the install?”
STORY: A fuzzy voice comes through. “Three hours, maybe four, sir.”
STORY: Randd nods to you, Millie. “You’ve got that long, then I’m going to want to know.”
STORY: “Until then, may I impress upon your hospitality for my men to relax?”
TUELLER: “Of course!”
STORY: She waves a hand. “At ease, men.”
MILLICENT: “You know I just got out of surgery on an alien being?”
STORY: They collectively relax, hanging their guns back over their shoulders by the strap.
MILLICENT: “The first successful Maitri heart transplant by a human surgeon?”
STORY: Randd nods. “You’re a busy woman.”
MILLICENT: “I built a-okay fine.” Millie grins. “Work work work.” Hits a comm button on the side of the ship. “Tariq! Get my tools and clean out the science lab!”
STORY: As soon as the soldiers drop their guns, Kahn pushes past the one closest to him and moves quickly for the stairs, heading up.
STORY: The intercome crackles, and Tariq sounds exasperated. “I’m getting this patient set up for long term care, Doctor, you mind giving me a minute please?”
MILLICENT: “You heard the man, Emma. My science lab is an ICU at the moment.”
MILLICENT: “I didn’t want any of your jarheads getting itchy trigger fingers so I didn’t even use the med bay.”
MILLICENT: To the soldiers, “Sorry.”
TUELLER: …
TUELLER: “The Jarheads aren’t bad, Doc.”
TUELLER: “Speaking of which, Admiral? Ensign Nillson. Is she tasked to anything particularly…needed for E-M? Because we could use a soldier of her calibre in the greater verse. One who’s comfortable around aliens. And who can help us do our thing for humanity.” Tueller gives a big friendly smile.
STORY: Photo on 1-2-18 at 10.16 PM.jpg
STORY: That’s the look Randd gives you.
STORY: She takes a long pause.
ALEJO: “Speaking of crew,” Alejo smiles, “I’m going to check on our current bunch. Admiral,” Alejo says and starts to walk off.
MILLICENT: Good look!
STORY: “You’re trying to enlist my Ensign to join your pirate crew?”
TUELLER: 
TUELLER: “She’s already gotten her hands dirty, and can help us with the Maitri’s recovery.”
TUELLER: —Tueller clearly has already forgotten the Maitri’s name.
STORY: She raises one eyebrow, then to Millie: “He usually like this?”
STORY: — josh is making me a manhattan, let’s see what Alejo is up to
ALEJO: Alejo has checked in with the crew in the cargo area and is now headed after Kahn.
STORY: Alejo, upstairs you find Kahn with a mop and a basket of rags, cleaning up the science lab. Tariq and Jenny are in the med bay, working on the Maitri, getting her fluids, hooking her up to machines.
STORY: When you catch Kahn’s eye, he stops, holding the mop upright and wringing his hands. “I’m sorry, sir. We couldn’t stop them boarding.”
STORY: “They’ve got control over the airlock, the navigation – Jac tried to evade, but the ship just shut down.”
ALEJO: “Sorry? You kidding me? I’m just glad no one’s hurt.”
ALEJO: “This whole thing has been a circus ride, hasn’t it?”
TUELLER: —brb
ALEJO: “You alright?”
STORY: He nods. “One of the men cracked Tariq when he tried to leave. I kept the others calm. It sucked.”
ALEJO: Alejo nods, an “I can imagine” sort of nod. “Sorry.”
STORY: He shrugs. “Part of the job.”
TUELLER: —back.
ALEJO: “Where’s Jac?”
STORY: “Bridge, with an armed guard.”
STORY: “She was fine, they told her to go up to keep an eye on comms.”
ALEJO: “Right. Good. I’m going to check on her and Tariq. Let’s catch up when the craziness passes. We’ll find some whisky or something on this bucket.”
STORY: He nods.
TUELLER: —almost definitely not.
TUELLER: —sorry.
ALEJO: Alejo heads to check on Tariq and Jac. Assuming everything is alright with both of them, he’ll make his way back to the cargo area after looking in on the Maitri.
STORY: Yeah, Jac’s all right, she’s just scanning for nearby anythings.
STORY: Tariq is in the med bay with the Maitri, who is unconscious and now about a third robot. He’s also fine, going to stitch up his lip later.
STORY: Jenny looks exhilarated.
ALEJO: “Thanks for your help,” Alejo will say to her, as he leaves. “You were great.”
STORY: She fully blushes and turns away.
ALEJO: When he gets back to the cargo area, he’ll make the rounds once more and join Tueller, wherever he’s at.
STORY: So Doc!
STORY: What’s the plan with this fuel cell?
MILLICENT: I think today Millie is going to give Erde-Maris the first ever Maitri heart transplant plans
MILLICENT: Getting a medical breakthrough featuring the alien race who has an active base closest to Earth? Seems like a good breakthrough.
MILLICENT: Millie makes notes on a pad, drawing diagrams and making lists.
STORY: how about you Face Adversity + Expertise please
MILLICENT: 10!
MILLICENT: 8+2
STORY: You write up the plans very nicely! So your plan is to offer these to Randd instead of doing the fuel cell science?
MILLICENT: That’s my current plan, yes.
STORY: Okay! So you lay the plans out in front of her and explain some of your notes, and she nods. “So you stole… what, medical records, which allowed you to develop this?”
MILLICENT: Along with an option on secondary access to this tech, with the understanding that I’m trying to prime the pump here
MILLICENT: “No, I stole a different thing I can’t offer to you first.”
MILLICENT: “But this! This is first for you, my dear.”
STORY: She shakes her head. “Why the hell not?”
MILLICENT: “Because galactic pirates don’t make new friends who lead to new pirating by playing nicely with established governments first .”
MILLICENT: “So you get this for now. You get more, later.”
STORY: “You’re a real pain in the ass, Millie. Fine.”
MILLICENT: Millie smiles. “I missed you, Em. It’s dark out here.”
STORY: Millie! Roll barter + 1 for your offering
MILLICENT: Ha! 8+1=9
STORY: She nods. “Fine. I don’t like this, but fine. I’ve got a crate of Chongqing pottery aboard, by chance. Best I can offer.”
MILLICENT: Millie spits in her hand and reaches over the table with a huge shit-eating grin
STORY: Randd rolls her eyes and shakes.
MILLICENT: “We made a deal!”
TUELLER: —Pottery?
STORY: She stands, then turns to the remaining soldiers. “Crew, get it loaded. Dr. Breedlove, I trust you’ll transfer that data to my ship before we arrive back?”
MILLICENT: “Of course, Admiral!”
MILLICENT: Millie makes a data transfer
STORY: She depresses the button on her radio. “Erde-Maris crew, we’re disembarking. Airlock now, please.”
STORY: She looks at Tueller. “I’m starting to like the idea of leaving Nilsson here, to keep an eye on your… adventures.”
STORY: “You’ll make sure she gets back to us?”
TUELLER: 
TUELLER: “Of course!”
MILLICENT: —I did a genuine laugh + small hand clap at that
STORY: “Fine.” As Nilsson is coming down the stairs, “Nilsson. You’re on assignment here for the foreseeable future. Report back regularly, sectornet or otherwise. I’ll be in touch.”
STORY: Jenny looks surprised. “B– what?”
STORY: Randd turns back as she is leaving. “See the universe, Jenny.”
TUELLER: “Welcome to the crew, Ensign.”
TUELLER: “Jenny.”
MILLICENT: “We have an ensign!”
STORY: Randd steps into the airlock and turns back as the door begins to close. “Oh, and Dr. Breedlove? Don’t pull another job in the Sol system or you’ll find my generosity to be rather short lived. Are we understood?”
MILLICENT: Mille nods like a cartoon. “Crystal!”
STORY: A satisfied nod from Randd, and the door hisses closed. She boards her shuttle and it zips off, carrying her crew with her.
STORY: You stand alone with your crew in the cargo bay, a large metal crate full of what you can only assume is fine china just behind you.
TUELLER: “So the inner planets are off limits for a bit, now?”
ALEJO: “Thank gods. Let’s get outta this joint.”
MILLICENT: “Yes.” Millie’s eyes light up. “We’ll have to…expand our efforts.”
MILLICENT: To the other two. “Do we have a pilot at this point? Or a helmsman?”
STORY: Noma bubbles in on the intercom. “You have me, Millie.”
TUELLER: “Welcome back, Noma.”
STORY: And then Jac, also intercom. “I can move her when Noma’s not onboard.”
MILLICENT: “Ah yes! Noma, take us out of the system, if you please.”
STORY: “Aye aye, co-captain.” The ship powers up and you hear the engines start to spin up to break orbit.
ALEJO: Alejo turns to Jenny. “Welcome aboard. Alejo Soto,” sticks out his hand.
ALEJO: “Don’t think we properly met before.”
TUELLER: “And I, of course, am Tueller Ya’Makasi.” He takes Jenny’s hand and kisses it.
STORY: As the ship moves forward and the intertial dampers activate, you all feel a familiar smooshing feeling that indicates you’re about to move. It’s a normal part of takeoffs, that is, normal until Alejo is suddenly slammed against the aft wall of the ship, his arm still extended.
STORY: SWOOSH