[Game Thread] A Simple Long Haul

[A7ice]

Nova Frost Nova watched as the pirate’s fearful plea echoed through the hold, his pitiful words doing little to sway her cold exterior. His nervous fidgeting and the stench of sweat and fear that clung to him made him all the more pathetic. When he begged not to be spaced, a slow, dangerous smile spread across her lips. “Ah, you make me laugh,” she said with a soft, mocking tone, her accent thick as she let the threat of death hang in the air. “But no, I don’t space you. Not yet. Instead, you lock yourself up like good boy.” She moved closer to him, her body radiating both sensuality and menace as she kept the barrel of her SMG steady against his chest. With a sharp motion of her head, she indicated the crew quarters. “Zere,” she ordered coolly, her voice dropping into a more commanding tone. “Pick a room. Lock yourself in. Make sure we don’t have to come find you again, or I promise, your last view will be stars, but not from inside ship.” Her words were laced with dark amusement, and the pirate didn’t need to be told twice. He scurried off, all too eager to get away from the barrel of Nova’s gun and the piercing, icy stare of her glowing blue eyes. Nova followed him at a leisurely pace, her finger never far from the trigger, making sure he obeyed her command. Once he was locked away, she activated the locking mechanism, satisfied when the heavy door clicked shut. There. The problem was contained… for now. As she turned back, Nova’s gaze found Fatima, who had been watching silently with that calm, collected demeanor. There was something undeniably striking about Fatima’s presence—her dark skin, her poised strength, that only made her more alluring. The contrast between her own pale, platinum-blonde features and Fatima’s deep, rich skin was a sight that Nova found exotic and irresistible. “You know,” Nova began, stepping closer, her voice soft but teasing, “I think he likes you, krasivaya.” Her gaze flickered toward the locked door where the pirate now sat in his cell. “Or maybe it’s me.” She smiled, amused by the power they both held over him. She took a step closer to Fatima, their bodies almost brushing, her eyes lingering on Fatima’s dark, striking features, the subtle curves of her form, and the undeniable confidence in her stance. Nova found herself more drawn to her with every passing moment—the professionalism, the quiet strength, and the way she handled herself with the same kind of ease that Nova valued in herself. It was rare to find someone who matched her, let alone someone who intrigued her like this. “So,” Nova said, her tone shifting to something more serious, though still flirtatious, “I’m going to check on bridge. See what rest of them are planning. Feels like zey might want to take zis ship for themselves. It’s a good prize, after all.” She paused, her glowing blue eyes locking onto Fatima’s, her expression thoughtful but laced with that playful edge. “But here’s the thing…” she continued, voice dropping to a more conspiratorial whisper, “I haven’t seen anyone good enough to lead. Not better than me, anyway.” She shrugged slightly, a smirk playing on her lips. “But I’m not looking to fight over it. Nyet. I’d rather keep us working together. Force them, if I have to. Pragmatism, da?” There was no aggression in her words, no hint of power-hungry ambition. Nova was a realist, and she valued efficiency and survival over ego. If things fell apart over petty power struggles, it would weaken them all. That was something she had no intention of letting happen. But leading? She wasn’t about to just let chaos take over, either. “So question is,” she said, her voice softening again as she looked directly at Fatima, her eyes narrowing playfully, “when we take zis ship—because we will take it—are you flying with me? Or with someone else?” There was no threat in her words, just curiosity and maybe a hint of playful challenge. Nova was already fairly certain of the answer. Still, she loved the dance, the game of it. She smiled, her fingers lightly brushing Fatima’s arm as she moved toward the corridor leading to the bridge. “Come, krasivaya,” she said over her shoulder, giving Fatima a wink. “Let’s see what trouble we can find together.”

---< More about Nova Frost >---

---< Nova Frost - Character Sheet >---

[ratchett]

Rukia Torres | Pilot | Zelbinian Bridge Good thing those slip fighters aren't moving up, Rukia mused. Since no one seems in a hurry to get their butts up here. She went to hit the internal comms channel again and that was when she noticed the MUTE indicator was on. She shook her head in a private admission of her own mistake. Still getting used to you, Zelb. Soon you'll be like an old pair of gloves for me, girl. Soon. Soon. Soon. Now that the presence of the other fighters seemed less of a threat, she continued to familiarize herself with the ship's controls. Menus re-appeared on the readouts. She lingered over them "Look like our gonk let you down, amiga," Rukia said to Maia with a smile. "But I guess the day is not done, neh? That some good news on the front turret. Least them boyz know which end of the torch to hold. Maybe they be some use." She didn't seem to have much conviction in the last statement. Maybe it was a hopeful comment. Maybe not ... "You any good at fixing weapons? We should get todos launchers back online." She hit the UNMUTE button for the intercom so her query could be heard throughout the ship. "Boss! You coming back to the bridge? Found some things and needs to talk to you."

OOC Action:

Stat Block   Crewmates Entry: Rukia Torres, Pilot, Nomad Hit Points Serious Death Save HUM (45) of 45 23 6 42 INT REF DEX TECH COOL WILL LUCK MOVE BODY EMP 7 8 5 6 4 7 0 (8) 4 6 4 (7) Perc Athletics Stealth Pilot Can be used to Dodge ranged attacks as REF = 8Evasion Autofire Handgun Heavy Weapons 9 9 7 14 9 10 12 10 Armor Head Body Legs Armor Jak -- 11 -- Leather Jacket -- 4 -- Leather Pants -- -- -- 4

[NoizePollution]

Fatima Watching Nova play with her prey, Fatima turns her amusement inward while keeping her face locked down. The blonde's decision not to space the pirate is not reflected in her features at all. She wants him to understand his position very clearly. That he was spared a fate that Fatima would have happily hung on his shoulders. Let Nova be the good cop here, she has the prowess for it. Following close behind her as she made easy pursuit of the man, Fatima maintains that cold professionalism until the door locks hiss closed, and only then does she let the smile pull at the corners of her lips. "You know your stuff. I'd probably have spaced him just to clear the stink." She turns away from the door only to find herself trapped in Nova's gaze again. The way the other killer looks at her...no, looks into her, lights fire in the very center of her being. Whatever happened here on this ship, however they all collectively detached themselves from this situation, there is no dispute in Fatima's mind about what comes after. A glance between Nova and the locked door and she allows a light chuckle at the observation. "Of course he does. Look at us." As if she isn't doing plenty of that already. In the all-too-brief period that they are close, soft voices exchanging further intentions, Fatima has to make actual effort to keep the topic of discussion in the front of her mind. The issue of captaincy was definitely going to need a resolution and she is quite content to not be up for the role. Everyone would need to come to an agreement to accept a single leader, that's how all ships worked as far as she knew. And Nova makes a compelling case. "I think your only concern there is the guy desperately bolting the guns back on this thing." As they speak, Fatima takes very slow steps around Nova to come up on the other woman's left side. It puts the side of her own body that lacks a holstered pistol toward the other woman, and she leans in enough to let her hip bump against the blonde's. "If he got that job done, you both made a big push to keeping this thing going. Could have convinced a few people his way same as you did yours." But there is no denying the truth of the woman's words. If they break into factions here they'll end up cold corpses in a space junk coffin. From what Fatima has seen so far, Nova is the right pick. She's collected, she was there when they took the ship back, and she knows how to take charge. "I'm a real 'best person for the job' kind of gal. Right now, that's you until I see otherwise." As Nova starts toward the bridge, her fingers grazing the skin of her arm, Fatima drags her nails with similar pressure across the other woman's back in search of any exposed skin. "You've got me. Until you don't." Her brow arches up and her smile is a sly one, the tease and innuendo in her words amusing to herself. She falls in step behind Nova as the woman takes the lead toward the bridge. "Besides, I've always wanted to bed a ship captain." Her grin vanishes as they walk back onto the bridge, pulling that stoic facade back over her features. "Who's got good news up here?"

[Drifter One]

Maximillion Ford. " Zero "

A job well done, as usual. Max thought to himself as he and his fellow crewmates made their way back to the bridge. Boran, in his own way, tried to persuade Max that he was the right guy to captain this hunk of bolts. Max had assumed the role anyway, for he had always been captain of his ship, the only issue was he didn't normally have anyone else to "captain", so to speak. He never had to answer to anybody and noone elses fate was ever in his hands. His decision making had only directly affected himself; well, indirectly his decisions have affected many, many people, but he never stuck around long enough to notice. Nevertheless, he was glad these chaps had his back.

"Lads, Im grateful for the endorsement but there is one problem. "He said, realising for the first time, in perhaps many years, he would have to manage other people. A daunting prospect for someone so free spirited and care free as Max. He began to feel quite uncomfortable at the notion. "I don't know how to lead..." he muttered, struggling to admit the confession.

Max suddenly stopped walking and turned to Boran and Fourteen his eyes widened.

"Yeah man, I mean, I know my sh!t, but i've always been kinda...y'know, a lone wolf type 'o bloke, y'know? I can convince people, no problem, but those girls on the bridge. Especially that hot chica, I don't think they are in any mood to buy it. I don't wanna make any more enemies, I have enough of those..."

Max had said his piece, and in truth he felt a little better getting it off of his chest, and his confidence suddenly returned.

"Anyway, let's get back. I've got a ship to run, boys!" He said with a dashing smile and began to jog down the corridor.

They soon reached the bridge where the rest of the crew were doing there business, be it making pirates wet themselves, negotiating or piloting the flying mass of metal. Max felt he had to announce his arrival.

"Right-O, Captain Max is here!" he said as he entered the bridge, clapping his hands together. He looked around as silent eyes fell on him. "Errm...ok...you," he said pointing at Rukia. "Uh....status report?"

 

Maximillion "Zero" Ford

[A7ice]

Nova Frost Nova entered the bridge silently, her presence alone enough to draw the attention of anyone paying even the slightest bit of attention. She moved like a predator, every step deliberate, her body language fluid yet full of controlled power. The soft leather of her boots barely made a sound on the metal flooring, but it was impossible to miss the weight of her aura. Max had already started talking—throwing around titles that didn’t belong to him. Nova didn't have to say anything; her eyes, cold and calculating, fixed on him like a sniper’s scope. There was no need for words. She had already established herself before, when Max had tried to bluster his way into the captaincy earlier. He might have thought that little power play was over, but for Nova, the game was far from finished. She positioned herself just off to the side, arms crossed under her chest, emphasizing the toned muscles visible even under her fitted jacket. Her posture was relaxed, almost casual, but her eyes never left Max. Her gaze was like a quiet storm, brimming with an unspoken threat—she was assessing him, watching his every move, waiting to see if he would make another mistake. The tension in the air was thick, like the calm before lightning strikes, but she kept her expression neutral, even playful. As the silence stretched, she made no move to interfere with his conversation, no words to undercut him directly. But she remained there, an ever-present reminder of the power dynamics at play. She wanted him to sweat, just a little. To know he wasn’t in control here, not as long as she was around. After a long pause, Nova’s eyes slid away from Max and softened as they landed on Rukia. Her posture loosened, and the slightest nod was given, acknowledging the other woman. It was subtle, but enough to show that her tension wasn’t with everyone—just the man in the room who had delusions of grandeur. “Rukia,” she said, her voice smooth, the faint traces of her Russian accent adding a velvety edge to her words. “Let’s hear vhat you have.” The shift in tone was notable. With Rukia, Nova’s demeanor was far more open, a professional softness that replaced the cold detachment she'd reserved for Max. This wasn’t the time to openly challenge him. Not yet. But he needed to understand—there was no captain until the ship’s crew earned it, and she had yet to see anyone capable of leading. Certainly not him. She stepped closer to the console, arms still folded but her stance now relaxed, more approachable. Her attention shifted to the information at hand, but the threat she carried lingered, just out of focus, in case anyone forgot who was really holding the power in the room. For now, Max was simply... tolerated.

---< More about Nova Frost >---

---< Nova Frost - Character Sheet >---

[ratchett]

Rukia Torres | Pilot | Zelbinian Bridge Rukia looked at the finger pointed at her. A calm expression filled her eyes - like watching the ripples on a pond settle after a pebble hit its surface. She flicked a control on the pilot controls, and unfolded herself from the couch. She stalked across the deck toward Max. Her gait screamed "Void Born" as she balanced on the balls of her feet, like a cat, or someone accustomed to gravity suddenly failing or changing direction and needing to be ready to adjust and fall in a different direction. It may have been hard to tell when she was in the pilot's couch, but standing now, her petiteness was obvious. She barely came up to Max's shoulder as she approached him - holding eye contact with him the whole time. Stopping just inside his reach she looked up at Max. "Here's a status update for you: You. Not. The. Captain. You do no give me orders. Right now - we a bunch of peoples trying to stay alive out in the Black. Until we decide we a crew and somehows you captain - you want some things from me? You ask. Polite." Rukia paused. "Es claro? We clear?" Still locking eyes with Max, she continued. "Now Zakaria-san and Frost-san, they asked polite, and I tell you all - we got three more slip fighters in our wake. Maybe they wait to see what the gonk doing? I dunno. I think if we don't turn and head back soon, they come knocking. Is what I would do. So we gotta decide soon what to do, I think, me. Turn back? Try to fix our guns fast? If someone else can fly the Zelb, I can fly the slip that gonk brought us." She finally broke eye contact to scan the bridge and found Nova standing near the console. "The gonk - the pilot - he still alive, boss?" she asked Nova. "Or he learning to breathe vaccuum like the last captain of the Zelb? Be good to know what he knew or maybe get him to tell us if he was going to chat with his coyos." Having said her piece. Rukia waited.

OOC Action:

Stat Block   Crewmates Entry: Rukia Torres, Pilot, Nomad Hit Points Serious Death Save HUM (45) of 45 23 6 42 INT REF DEX TECH COOL WILL LUCK MOVE BODY EMP 7 8 5 6 4 7 0 (8) 4 6 4 (7) Perc Athletics Stealth Pilot Can be used to Dodge ranged attacks as REF = 8Evasion Autofire Handgun Heavy Weapons 9 9 7 14 9 10 12 10 Armor Head Body Legs Armor Jak -- 11 -- Leather Jacket -- 4 -- Leather Pants -- -- -- 4

[A7ice]

Nova Frost Nova watched Rukia's petite form stalk across the deck like a cat on the prowl, her eyes glinting with amusement as the pilot confronted Max. There was something satisfying in watching the small, fierce Void Born put the self-declared "Captain" in his place without so much as raising her voice. Nova didn’t need to say anything; Rukia was handling it, and quite beautifully at that. A slow smirk crept onto Nova’s lips, the only outward sign of her approval. When Rukia finished and asked her about the pirate, Nova uncrossed her arms and gave the pilot a nod, the faintest gesture of acknowledgment for the show she had just put on. “Da,” Nova started, her voice smooth but carrying that thick Russian accent, “pirate still alive, for now. I locked him up in one of ze quarters. He might prove useful later, no need to waste him... yet.” Her tone was casual, as though it was just another day deciding whether to space someone or not. She leaned against the console, her posture relaxed but her eyes sharp, taking in everyone on the bridge before continuing. “From him, we learned he sails under Captain Kane Courso. Zey have five more slip fighters, plus ze flagship—a refitted freighter with plenty of guns.” She glanced back at Rukia, knowing the pilot would appreciate the tactical details. “Zey use Jun-Sing and Jun-Liang stations to dump zere loot and... make trouble. Typical pirate scum.” Nova’s voice turned icy for just a second, her distaste for men like that evident. “We’re not out of ze woods yet. If zose fighters back zere decide to check on zeir friend, we’ll need all ze guns online, fast. Maybe zey’ll play nice, maybe not. We plan for worst, da?” She pushed off the console and gave a quick glance around the bridge, her eyes lingering on each crewmember briefly, measuring their readiness without a word. Then, with a slight tilt of her head and that playful smirk tugging at her lips again as she scanned the bridge, gauging the reactions of the others. With one hand resting casually on her hip, she turned her attention back to the group, her voice carrying a bit more weight now as she addressed everyone, her accent thickening slightly. “Courso—Kane Courso,” she repeated, letting the name hang in the air for a moment, “any of you heard of him or his little band of pirates?” Her tone was still casual, but there was an edge to her question, an invitation for anyone who knew more to speak up. “Or maybe you know somesing about Jun-Sing and Jun-Liang stations?” She raised an eyebrow, watching each of them carefully. Nova wasn’t one to underestimate anyone on this ship—they all had their secrets, just like her. There was always more to a crew than met the eye, and now was as good a time as any to see if anyone had useful intel. “Would be helpful if someone knows what we are dealing with,” she added, her voice softening, almost as if she were coaxing them to share. “Ze more we know, ze less surprises. And I don’t like surprises.” She straightened up, giving the console another quick glance before her eyes found their way back to the group, waiting for anyone to step forward with information.

---< More about Nova Frost >---

---< Nova Frost - Character Sheet >---

[Drifter One]

Maximillion Ford. " Zero "

Man these are hard-nosed women! He thought to himself as he felt the tension on the bridge. It didn't help at all with Nova's eyes burning a hole the size of an Industrial Hauler into the back of his head. Yeah, he felt it alright. He looked to his two companions, Fourteen and Boran, but he knew that there was little they could add.

Max shuffled uncomfortably when Rukia unfolded from the couch and walked towards him, as majestic as a prancing cat. Max gulped, but smiled the best smile he could under the circumstances, for he knew Rukia was right. He held up his hands defensively.

"Hey, hey...no harm intended, love. I just couldn't remember your name, thats all. We only met a small while ago."

He coughed into his fist before offering an extravagant bow.

"My apologies, ma'am. I meant "Could I have the status report...please"."

Max bit his lip, he hoped Fourteen would find his pack of cigarettes soon, he was dying for one in this pressure cooker, yet, when the need arose, he could think with clarity and he could achieve a fair bit. He surprised himself quite often.

"Look, this heap of junk wont outrun a fart in a shoebox. And if those fighters start firing, we are gonna be toast soon, and I don't care much for breakfast."

He met Rukia's gaze. "Three fighters? Jeezus christ on a bike..."he muttered as he thought. "Listen, I think 3 vs 1 are terrible odds without those guns. I can fix 'em, but there also ain't no ship I cannot fly. I reckon we stick this bad-boy onto autopilot, repair those guns whilst you prepare the slip-fighter. Only go out there once the guns are back online. I'm hoping it might be a quick tinker with the circuits, but we'll see. We can then use those to support you out there and I can pilot this damn hulk!" He motioned towards the blackness of space beyond the bridge. He then stuttered and bowed again, "if of course, you are willing ma'am."

 

Maximillion "Zero" Ford

[NoizePollution]

Fatima Fatima tries her best to be both silent and impassive during the exchange. It would do no good to add an unnecessary voice to the clamor when they were all aiming for the same thing, an intact escape. When Rukia lays the law down on Max, though, her facade cracks wide and she laughs enough to have to steady herself with a hand on the nearby console. "Damn, Rukia. You are a pistol. Strike that, you're heavy ordinance." She forces a steadying breath to let the words flow more easily. "I bet when your ire is up you spit lead and piss fire, Arabic - Killeralqatil, and I am so here for it." She looks between Rukia and Nova as the concerns run between them. She doesn't have a lot to add. Fatima is worthless when it comes to matters of piloting. She's always had a corpo provided transport on jobs so all her training went to making people dead, or close to it. When Max suggests a way that he can help she turns to face him and her brow lifts a bit as a smile touches her lips. She doesn't hate this guy, and she doesn't want the job so there is no threat there, so she can afford to see the value in what he says. "Careful, Arabic - Friendsadiq. You're treading dangerously close to a good suggestion there. Making yourself useful might start becoming a habit." She turns to look between Rukia and Nova then. "That name isn't familiar but this wasn't exactly Mt usual area of operations. I wish I had more to offer here but I'm really just a 'slip in and kill/maim/kidnap' kind of girl. I wouldn't know where to start on the kind of guns these ships carry. But I do have two good hands so if something needs loading I can load it." She steps in a casual path along the wall as the others continue to hash out the best course. This walk brings her up next to Boran. "I know you, right?" She studies him for a long moment, resting her chin in her palm and tapping a fingernail against her teeth as she considers. "I have seen this face before. I'm sure of it."

[Iron Signet]

Boran Drago - Media - Hallway Boran does some quick mental recalculating when they enter the bridge and Max immediately puts his foot in his mouth. He'd thought he'd come up with some pretty solid arguments in favor of giving the man captaincy, at least temporarily, but it seemed he'd already aggravated two of the people he'd have to convince. But then, Boran didn't want to pull the feet out from under him either, not when he'd encouraged the idea on the way down. What they really needed to do was reduce tension, figure out a solid plan, and keep things moving from here. It’d be nice if Fourteen showed back up, the man seemed like he’d be good for dissolving tense situations like this. All that drama was really making for some great footage though. Boran was doing his best to observe the room and minimize blinking while he thought through his options. Item1: Seems like the immediate pirate problem has been dealt with. Good. Item2: Still more pirates to deal with, not so good. Item3: Seems like Max had yet another reasonable suggestion. Good. Item4: Seems like Frost was aiming for command… not sure. That thirst for command just made Boran nervous, he’d seen it all too often back in the core worlds, and the kind of things it led to. At least Max didn’t seem like he wanted to tell anyone what to do. His deliberations were interrupted when it seemed like someone had actually recognized him. It was the darker skin woman from earlier. Fatima, was it? "Well, I was just up here a moment ago, before leaving with the other two gentlemen to repair the hull." He gave her his brightest book-signing smile, "...but I jest. You may recognize me as best-selling author of the Stormy Skies and the Between False Stars series. Or, you may recognize me from my vlog." He pointed to his eye, "It used to be mostly just my book fans, but my vlog has really been growing since making my way out into the Outer Worlds here. Lots of enlightening stuff that people don’t hear much of back towards the Core." He stepped forward with a flourish and clapped Max on the shoulders, attempting to massage some of the tension out. "I also must apologize, we were talking in the hallway, and it was my suggestion that Max put himself forward for Captaincy. He doesn't even really want to have to tell anyone what to do. However, we currently are in a pressing situation and need a leader, at least temporarily until we see our way through it. Otherwise we just spend a lot of time deliberating and arguing about things. It is my observation that although Max seems to occasionally put his foot in his mouth, he has a good head for practical solutions and for survival. Also, since what he really wants is the ship, it’s in his best interest to see that we’re all happy and safe, and thus the ship is happy and safe." He darted his eyes around the room, before settling on Frost. She seemed to have gained a lot of respect while dealing with the most recent pirate situation, and she was the one who made him nervous. "I don't know much about these pirates you're talking about, but I don't think I'd have gotten where I am without being a decent judge of people. It doesn't have to be for forever, but that was a good idea he just proposed. I think it would help us all out if we can agree to follow him for a while. And at least if we're listening to him, we all know where he is, and he can't cause any trouble. Right?"

[A7ice]

Nova Frost Nova’s eyebrow arched as Boran began his smooth pitch in favor of Max, trying to slip some charm and rationale into a situation that was clearly spiraling for the self-proclaimed captain. She let him talk for a while, her amusement barely concealed behind a neutral expression, until he finally came to the end of his pitch. The grin that pulled at her lips was equal parts mocking and sharp. “Ah, Boran,” she began, her thick Russian accent laced with playful sarcasm, “I see you still trying to sell us stories, da? Very poetic, ‘keeping us happy and safe.’ But let’s look at what Max here just suggested, hmm?” She stepped forward, circling around the bridge like a predator that had already smelled weakness, her eyes cutting briefly to Max before returning to Boran. Her voice was light, almost teasing, but with a weight of authority beneath it. “Max wants Rukia to jump into slip fighter, while he flies this ship. Because apparently,” she turned to Max, her gaze sharp, “Rukia, who has done stellar job piloting us through zis mess, should now be taking orders from you after telling you—how was it? ‘You do no give me orders.’” She shrugged, offering a mock-confused expression. “So Rukia, who has already proven herself more than capable, should jump in a slip fighter, and somehow trust you to handle everything, da?” Nova stopped her pacing, positioning herself in front of Max now, the smirk fading into something more serious, but still with that sharp edge of mockery. Her eyes flicked to Boran now, her voice suddenly dripping with sarcasm. “And you, Boran. ‘Decent judge of people,’ da? Either you have very questionable judgment or maybe,” her smile widened, though her eyes stayed sharp, “you have your own little agenda here.” Nova shrugged, her tone softening ever so slightly, though still firm. “Here’s how we do zis: Max, you fix ze guns, prove you can be useful. And when you finish? You take zat slip fighter out yourself, prove you know how to fly like you claim. If you do all zat, maybe zen we talk.” She turned back to face Max directly, her tone cold and mocking. “But captain? Ah, Max, you need more than a fancy smile and desire for ship to be captain. Maybe start by showing you care about people first, da?”

---< More about Nova Frost >---

---< Nova Frost - Character Sheet >---

[NoizePollution]

Fatima "That's it!" Fatima's face lights up at the realization, her posture relaxing as she speaks. "I love your books. I read them on mission deployments." Her eyes narrow as she replays that in her head and her smile slips. "Did read, I guess." She looks like she is about to speak again, to launch into something long-winded and no doubt related to the series, when the topic shifts to captaincy again. Turning to look between Max, Nova and Boran as they back-and-forth further on it. A roll of her head disguises the roll of her eyes as she lets a groan ride and exhaled breath. "Are we not quibbling over details? The plan is solid and Rukia isn't asking to lead so let her decide who flies what." Crossing the distance to stand near the Belter, Fatima crosses her arms over her chest and lets her irritation settle on her face. "Max fixes the guns. Rukia flies whichever role she wants. I'll stay with Max and make sure he doesn't do something stupid." A beat as she looks the man over and frowns. "Stupider, I guess." She lays a hand on the pistol on her hip to push the point home. "Those fighters hold two, right? So that math works." A glance to Nova as she considers her role. "That puts you with Rukia. So she can make sure you don't do anything stupid." She smiles a bit and shrugs. "Can't be me. Everyone here's already read our vibe." She's obvious team Nova here and there's no disguising it. Boran has made his position known, too. How the others might lean when the need for a vote actually arises remains to be seen. "Right now we don't need a captain. We need a plan. Do we go with the one we've got?" A glance is swept to each face in the bridge before she adds. "Or we can all just die."

[Red Leper]

Back on the Bridge: Rukia recalls that both the Jun-sing and Jun-liang stations are fully funded by the Arasaka Mega-corp and are not adverse to hiring freelance ship crews to work as privateers instead of having a dedicated law enforcement force. The privateers or pirates get pretty free run of how they conduct business as long as they pay their percentage of tribute back to the corpos. Meanwhile, tensions build at the idea of who has the right to captaincy fly about the bridge, an alarm sounds from the main control panel. The proximity alert indicates movement out there just before an explosion rocks the ship, a shockwave from the front end of the Zelbinian. It would appear that the three slip fighters fell into a formation, circling back and peeling around, one under the belly and one flying upside down over the bridge and shooting a warning shot down the Zelbinian's nose while the third slip fighter has fallen back behind the larger ship's rear thrusters. They are tired of waiting for their compatriot to come through or maybe nervous trigger fingers? As if things are obviously bad, a little light on the panel now, one of the slip fighters is hailing the Zelbinian.

OOC:

[Drifter One]

Maximillion Ford. " Zero "

Max's expression suddenly changed, for despite his shortcomings and boisterous nature, there was a time and a place, and this was neither. He was becoming rather frustrated at a pointless power struggle when more pressing things were at hand. He first turned to Boran and nodded to him with a slight smile.

"Thanks man." He said, acknowledging his words of support, before turning to Nova.

"Look sweetheart, I get it. But you need to take heed of both your own words and our current situation." He said, his jovial demeanour now a distant memory. "So before you get on your high horse, it was Rukia that offered to pilot the slip fighter if someone else could pilot this thing!" he gestured to the canopy around them. S"o maybe you should start listening rather than talking!" He added with a hiss. He began to stride up and down the bridge tapping his lips as he began to hatch a plan.

"You know what? Screw all this sh!t. I can't do both - I can't fix the bloody guns and then go and launch a fighter before those three, yes three bandits start opening us up like a can of worms! So here is what I am going to do, because I want to live long enough to get on the surface somewhere and have a good 'ol steak and chips. I'm gonna go fix those guns. You lot decide what you're gonna do!"

He walked up to face Nova. "And lets get one thing clear love, I don't take orders. Not from you. Not from anyone!" He said jabbing his finger before he scurried off to repair those guns.

 

Repair the guns: 33

 

Maximillion "Zero" Ford

[A7ice]

Nova Frost "Max, if you can't take orders, you certainly aren’t going to give zem either." Nova’s voice was calm, steady, with no trace of confrontation. Just cold reality. She leaned back against the console, her expression cool and unreadable. Her eyes followed him as he stormed off, completely unimpressed by his dramatics. Once he was gone, she exhaled quietly, glancing around at the others. "Alright, any ideas?" Her voice sliced through the tension on the bridge. She crossed her arms, waiting for a response. "Because if not, I’m dragging zat merzavets pirate up here and seeing if he can convince his little friends to stop shooting at us." There was a flicker of dark humor in her tone, though her expression remained serious. "It’s either that, or we hope our guns get fixed before we’re blown to bits." She gave a small shrug, her voice as pragmatic as ever, waiting to see if anyone had something better to offer.

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