BELT Bad Guys

Discussion in 'Open Roleplay' started by Tadgh, Jul 15, 2018.

  1. Tadgh

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    [​IMG]



    Captain Argylle had shared some rather colourful words when expressing his views on Tadgh leaving the crew. His view had been that Tadgh owed the ship a great debt for his experience there. Tadgh's view was that Argylle was an unhinged ex-pirate who preferred to let his first and second mate do all the work whilst he quietly drank himself to sleep. That view had not been shared verbally.

    Argylle had demanded another meeting the next day. Tadgh had quietly packed up and shipped out on a transport to Pallas to find another ship. An ignominious way to finish a two year tour on a vessel.

    And then he'd found Glen Colson on his heels. The young belter had apparently decided to follow him. Glen was ecstatic about it. Tadgh was not so excited about the teenage OPA sympathiser. He could muster enthusiasm for almost anything and never stopped talking. To top it off Glen had boldly pronounced that he would use his OPA contacts to find them work. Tadgh had just nodded and smiled. Inside his own head he weighed up whether or not he was going to help Glen find work too.


    [​IMG]

    Meanwhile at Pallas, the Azimuth had seen better days but was a well made machine. It wasn't built for comfort. At some point in it's life it had been converted from cabins of six to individual cabins or rooms of two bunks, but they were small and spartan. Despite being fifty years it didn't feel lived in. As if it refused to let go of that clinical MCRN vessel feeling. Less of the ship was broken, or perpetually on the edge of failure than typically privately owned belt freighters. Most ship hands would take an uncomfortable living space over a chance of being spaced

    It had changed hands recently and the new crew were still learning to mesh into a functional team. Some had clearly worked together for longer than others. The Azimuth had no set routes or cargo contracts. The crew would be doing a variety of job to earn their pay. Some transport on the books, some goods moved off the books. Anything that paid, they would do. The number of heavy rifles locked up on the third deck suggested that sometimes that was going to be dangerous.

    Not that there was anything to do today. They had docked at Pallas and the crew given some shore leave. In part that was so they had a break to get a few drinks in and bond, in part it was because they didn't have another job lined up and there was only enough spare cash to pay for two weeks of docking fees.

    [​IMG]


    Pallas

    Tadgh always found that the areas around the Pallas docks seemed unnaturally dingy. As if the rocks themselves were leaching away the light. Spotting his fellow crew member at a table with a terminal propped in front of himself Tadgh made a beeline through the crowd. The area might have been dark and grimy, but it was also the best place to find work on a ship.

    He could see that Glen was sitting away from anyone else with an earphone in. He was talking to the heavily tattooed face of a man over his terminal. Just as Tadgh reached the table the call was cut off. Seeing him, Glen looked up and beam. There was a look of distinct pride on his face.

    "Mi found some work boss!" he said so quickly that Tadgh had to isolate each word in turn in his mind and piece it back together.

    "Fook off!" Tadgh said as he took a seat. He didn't doubt that the lad thought he had found a job, he just expected to find that someone had taken advantage of his enthusiasm.

    "Mu fosho! Told you! Mi have kopeng in da OPA!" Glen whispered this conspiratorially and tapped the side of his nose.

    "Oh come on Glen you d..."

    Looking hurt the young belter interrupted him. "Really. Job is on Callisto. Some Pinkwater scum been taking money to harass belta. Three belta didn't work hard enough for an inya bossmang last week and ended up in hospital. Dey wanya hire us to grab their boss for a chat about taking money from da wrong people sasa ke?"

    Tadgh raised an eyebrow. "Sounds dangerous. That lot don't fuck about."

    "They're gonna make a scene, keep em busy for us. Just a small outpost, like ten men. Dey have kapawu heading out dis week and need more people.”

    “kapawu?”

    “Ship.”

    Tadgh took a few seconds thinking it over. “Who have they hired for it?”

    Ship …called…azeemuff?”

    “Azimuth?” Glen didn't like having his English corrected but Tadgh wasn't in a patient mood.

    “Maybe,” Glen said with a shrug.

    “So we start this job by…”

    “Oh!” went Glen, clearly remembering an important detail. “If da captain takes it on, mi contact send him mi details.”

    Tadgh nodded slowly. He doubted the offer was genuine to start with and even if it was it sounded dangerous. He hadn't come out to the belt to get shot on the job. He'd been clipped by an over enthusiastic UN marine on Ceres and wasn't keen to experience it again.

    The offer, as it would turn out, was genuine. One of @Alric's lieutenants had just closed the call from his own terminal on Io.




    OOC/ There is a crew list with open positions here: https://www.theexpanse-rp.com/wiki/Ships/Azimuth Once you've posted here edit the wiki to add your name to the crew!
     
    #1 Tadgh, Jul 15, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 18, 2018
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  2. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

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    Two weeks, muttered Captain Steven Maguire to himself. Such bullshit. I'd sell body parts to have two weeks of docking fees in the bank.

    More or less the only reason they had even granted docking permission was because Dockmaster Volodin had put in a word for him. Reluctantly, he was sure, and he'd have to pay it back somehow, but at this moment he didn't care. They were down, his crew could relax and enjoy themselves, and he could go about finding the next job that would keep them all flying just a little bit longer.

    Business as usual. Speaking of business...

    "All I'm sayin' is, last time Volodin put us on a job was the time he bailed on you and left us for dead. I can't believe we're gonna crawl back to him and beg for a job."

    Beside him, keeping pace with a true Belter's easy lope, Lyla made the bare minimum of an attempt at not rolling her eyes.

    "Hey, we need this, remember. We can go beg whatever pirate happens to stumble across us once we're drifting, if you'd prefer?"

    Steven ran a hand through his graying hair and rumbled through a sigh.

    "Man's having a moment of self-pity, and you gotta kick 'im while he's down. I'm telling ya, we'll be regretting this before we're through."

    "That's why you're the captain, cap'n."

    He was about to utter a devastatingly scathing remark that had not yet come into his mind (but would do just in time) when they came to Volodin's office. Two muscled and tattooed thugs gave them severe stares and made them wait before letting them in. The Dockmaster himself, wiry and thin even by Belter standards, unfolded himself into a standing position as they came in. The two men shook hands briefly, while Lyla nodded in wary recognition.

    "Captain Maguire! Ms Cienfuego. It's been too long; welcome back."

    "Oye, Dockmaster Volodin. I'm not sure I agree, but let's save time and get to business."

    If the Chukchi-descended man was offended, he made no sign, but instead sat down and motioned for them to do the same. He opened his hands wide - placating, welcoming.

    "Na du-showxa? Beratna, sesata - milowda ke milowda na imalowda aber tudiye wowk kowmang milowda."

    No chat? Brother, sister - we all know we aren't friends, but today we have work to do.

    "Imalowda, fosho fosho. What's the job, Volodin?"

    Friends? Sure, sure.

    The Dockmaster switched back to English, which was the sign he was getting serious. There could be no misunderstandings.

    "Callisto. Bunch of Pinkwater dzhemang jumping our boys. Two boys got ribs smashed deniable-like sasa ke? Bosmang needs to send a reply. Also deniable-like. If was belta, would be war. Someone else, mebi could avoid upscalating."

    "And you want us to deal with the situation."

    "Sasa?"

    "I think so. What's in it for us?"

    "Standard rates. Belta gut fosho, ya?"

    Captain Maguire let the moment drag, just to rescue some sliver of pride in the situation, then nodded stiffly. It wasn't like they had much choice. He got up and turned to leave, signalling Lyla away from her position against the wall.

    "Ey, Maguire. Ke na hard feelings for last tim ya? Fees, air... on us. Wang gut job, dass. Busi-ness, ya?"

    The Martian shrugged. They had paid up in the end, which had been more than expected. It could have been worse.

    "I'll be seeing you around, Dockmaster."

    "Et tu, inyalowda."
     
    #2 Steven Maguire, Jul 18, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 18, 2018
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  3. Lyla

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    While Lyla had put on a brave face when she'd made her quippy remarks, heading straight to the loathsome dockmaster made her skin crawl. Unfortunately, there was little other option for the crew of the Azimuth. If she couldn't avoid a meeting with Volodin, she might as well make the most of it. And by make the most of it, she meant stand quietly in a corner and hope that the captain didn't put his foot in his mouth -- which to her mild surprise, he didn't.

    When the Dockmaster opened his mouth about not having any hard feelings about the last job, Lyla wanted nothing more than to chuck her hand terminal at the man's face. The anger was plain as day on her face and she parted her lips to say exactly how many hard feelings there were, but Maguire's look cut her off before she could say something they both would regret.

    Clicking her tongue, the belter pushed herself off the wall and stalked towards the exit after her captain.

    At least they had a job. She thought bitterly to herself.

    "Are you still having a moment of self pity, Cap'n? Or would now be a good time to point out that you just took a job shaking down Pinkwater?" She asked in a sardonic tone, glancing over to Macguire out of the corner of her eye. It wasn't that she didn't trust the martian, no, it was the dockmaster that had her worried. If anyone deserved to be tossed out an airlock, it was that useless lump of human refuse.

    Though Macquire hadn't said exactly where they were headed, Lyla followed along nevertheless and she didn't give the action much thought. Her thoughts drifted back to the unsettling job they'd been assigned, but she didn't voice her concerns further.
     
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  4. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

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    Captain Maguire huffed. He didn't like the OPA, and Lyla normally did most of the go-between work. If even she didn't like Volodin... well. Her instincts were irritatingly accurate.

    They headed in the general direction of the food courts. He needed a stiff drink, a hot meal and a decent bed - no particular order required.

    Just a few items to tick off the list before I can do that.


    They threaded their way through growing crowds. It was shift change, and the weary off-shifters mixed in with the harried and late on-shifters.

    "Does it look like we had a choice there, Red? I don't like it either. He's bad news and we both know it. We just gonna go, do the job, get paid. Quicker that happens, less likely the forgotten arm's gonna hit us."
     
    #4 Steven Maguire, Jul 18, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 19, 2018
  5. Alanna Marston

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    Pallas Station
    Eastern Docks


    The bay smelled like metal and gasoline. It was the same sort of grungy smell as the machine shops on MCRN ships, though truth be told Alanna had spent most of her time in the service sitting in the Ops Deck, so she had little experience with the deep and mysterious rooms where engineering took place. The sweat and heat and grime permeated the air and tickled her nose when she breathed in. The quintessential atmosphere of the Belt.

    Berth C42 was the bay listed on her hand terminal. The ship docked there — the one she’d signed a contract on a few days ago — was registered as the Azimuth, though judging by the pictures she’d seen of the freighter, Bumblebee or Banana Peel might have been more apt choices. It looked like an Earther ship with its six-drive rear section and its blocky, stuck-together design, but Alanna knew better. She’d instantly recognized the “freighter” as an MCRN prototype frigate, scrapped decades ago. Nothing even resembling it had ever entered service, but she’d heard about the project that generated it — the Future Combatant program, or something like that — at the Naval Academy while learning how not to royally fuck up spaceship design and operation. Hey kids, make sure you clean your torpedo tubes or you’ll end up like these old ships: stripped down, abandoned, and sold to pirates.

    Alanna sincerely hoped the person who owned the Azimuth was not a pirate.

    Unfortunately, it seemed she would have to wait to find out, because upon arriving at Berth C42 she found that the boarding area was empty. The berth was definitely correct. Clearly, nobody was home. Alanna sat down and waited for one of her new shipmates to arrive.
     
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  6. Lyla

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    A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lyla's mouth at Maguire's retort, and she clasped her hands together behind her back. "Not arguing that, Cap'n. Although, I'm not sure this technically counts as the forgotten arm, sasa? Seeing as we pretty much know that it's coming." Her tone, as always, had a certain dry quality about it, though that did little to hide the amusement in her voice. Another glance was spared towards her captain as she strode beside him through the swarms of people as they made their way to and from work.

    Her curls bounced merrily around her face in the low gravity with every step that she took, and she would reach up every so often to swipe a stray lock out of her hazel green eyes. "On another note, we are going to need more men. Unless, of course, you have a brilliant plan for bluffing our way through this job? Which, don't get me wrong, has worked for us before; I just wouldn't be opposed to tipping the odds a little more in our favor this time."
     
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  7. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

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    Captain Maguire rolled a shoulder that suddenly ached with half-recalled pain.

    "How the forgotten arm works, ain't it? Everyone remembers it 'til they don't."

    They fell into a brief silence after the redheaded Belter's second point. Steven felt a niggling thought at the back of his mind and, after a little more effort than he would have liked, pulled that mental file out of its cabinet.

    Lyla was... well, it defied easy definition. Friend, acquaintance, comrade - all of those in different proportions. She had enough smarts to make herself useful anywhere. Enough courage to get herself into trouble anywhere.

    Hell, she wasn't too different from how he'd been back in the day deep down. He liked her - more than that, he trusted her. So, after Hikaru had moved on... why hadn't she asked about being his second officer?

    Does she not want it? Is she planning on leaving?

    He had to say something before she did. He drew breath -

    There was a buzzing from his pocket. With a movement that was more muscle memory than conscious thought, he flicked the hand terminal out to see the message - and then stepped towards the wall to keep reading. Lyla turned to him expectantly.

    "We got a coupla hits for our open spots. You mind staying on a bit longer today, Red?"
     
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  8. Lyla

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    Lyla had been on board the Azimuth long enough to recognize the thoughtful expression on Maguire's face, but she didn't know what it was that he was preoccupied with. At a guess, she figured that he was trying to work the logistics of the coming job. That's where her mind naturally drifted to in the comfortable silence that had stretched between them.

    Volodin had proven to be untrustworthy and a two timing conman. If there was a profit in screwing them over, he would do it again without a moment's hesitation.

    This would be a job that required more muscle than just small crew that they currently had. That meant there would be new faces on the Azimuth. If that was the case, maybe she should ask about the currently vacant second officer position? It would only make sense for her to fill the role, and she felt as though Maguire trusted her enough for the job...

    Her thoughts were interrupted by the captain's question, and she softly cleared her throat to cover up the fact that she had been distracted. "Can't have you going off to meet the newcomers all on your own, can we? Besides. I can always just log it as overtime." She winked teasingly, knowing full well that 'overtime' was not exactly a thing when it came to this line of work.
     
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  9. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

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    Captain Maguire shook off her wink with a huffed chuckle.

    "Yeah, well, maybe I'll make it up to you. Omar said he's got his hands on red kibble, so this goes well and we get our second mate, I'll cook."

    He checked the hand terminal again - two guys, looked like they were applying together. Previously of... the Goldtail? The name didn't ring a bell, which was a good thing. He scrolled down to their applications. Ship's hand and... ah.

    Second mate.

    Well, that's that. Next time, Red.

    He shook it off - down to business. He straightened his collar, smoothed down the front of his shirt and tapped his handgun in its leg holster. Not the superposed-load machine pistol he used when he really needed compact heat - too conspicuous - but a decent manstopper nonetheless. It never hurt to be safe when you headed towards a new rendezvous. And on that note:

    "Martinez, you there? We got two hits for our open jobs. Me and Fuego gonna go and check 'em out. Oughta be back like, an hour from now. Them in tow or not."

    After a moment he noticed Lyla had drifted behind a bit.

    "You comin', Red?"
     
    #9 Steven Maguire, Jul 19, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 19, 2018
  10. Oz Sanchez

    Oz Sanchez Belter Militia Pilot

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    After several weeks out in space, jumping from station to station, Oz Sanchez finally came to his destination, Pallas Station. A few weeks after the attack on Thoth, the militia sent him out into the belt to recruit more pilots and send them to Eros, while he continued on to the next recruit. His mission was to last a year or two, partially to help bolster the ranks, and partially to give him some time to relax. From Thoth, to a destructive and bloody murder investigation, he needed some light duty.

    Stepping off the transport, he threw his duffel bag over his shoulder and followed the throng of travelers onto the docks, a woman’s voice over a PA welcoming them to Pallas in English, Belter, and Mandarin. His next step was to find another boat, and try to secure a job on it. From there he’d try to recruit from the places they docked, see the system a bit, and have a little adventure while he was at it. Easier said than done. After two hours of asking around, no one had accepted his offer. One drunken captain had even started a fight with him, which Oz won in short order. He didn’t want to fight, but three of his crew members walked out of the ship just as he was slamming his fist into their captains— well it doesn’t matter, there were four sleeping belters on the dock, and hopefully he would be long gone by the Rome they woke up...

    He looked up and saw one last ship, a yellow and white old veteran his hand terminal labeled Azimuth. She was beaten up, ragged, scarred, but one could see that she could take a serious beating and still stay in the sky. As Oz continued on past, he saw a grizzled, gruff looking man, and a very attractive redhead calling him “cap’n” come from the dockmaster in his direction. That was the man to speak to, it seemed, sinc she was the only captain he hasn’t spoken to yet. Oz quickened his step, and intercepted them as the captain was in mid sentence.

    “Excuse me, captain? Sorry to interrupt, but since you’re the only captain I haven’t spoken to on this dock, I’m assuming you fly the Azimuth? Oz Sanchez, I’m a recruiter for the Belter Militia.” He stuck out his hand to shake, and continued. “I’m I’m traveling the Belt looking for men to join the Militia but I need to sign into a boat to get around. I won’t try to recruit any of the crew, and I can earn my keep as a pilot or in combat. Any chance you need another hand?”
     
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  11. Tadgh

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    A few hours ago

    "What do you mean it's perfect?" Tadgh asked. "It doesn't sound like it to me."

    Glen had been doing some searching on the net and found out that the Azimuth wasn't just short for this mission. They were looking for more full time crew. Empty bowls sat on the table between them. Tadgh had offered to foot the bill, small as it was, but the proud kid had refused up until he looked at how many yen he actually had in his pockets. The kid wasn't making his life any easier, but Tadgh didn't feel he could just dump him and run.

    "We could get full time work off this yeah?" Glen replied. His expression suggested he didn't understand why this was not a good thing.

    Tadgh sighed. "Think it through Glen." He opened his left hand, face up. "If we go to them from your contact then they think of us as OPA henchmen brought in by someone else. We offer to stay on and they get suspicious that the paymaster is putting some insurance on board." Tadgh opened the right hand. "If we don't tell them and then they find out that the OPA got in touch with you for this job then... well, if I was them I would probably space us."

    Glen mulled that over for a few seconds. He gave a wide belter shrug. "We apply for da job an tell em we also heard about da pinkwater job through anodda belta friend? Unless da other job app went well Kearney?"

    With pursed lips he eyed the young belter across the table. His plan was as simple as it came, but now Tadgh was going to have to admit that it actually solved the problems. "The other job...turns out the captain knew Argylle and gave him a call."

    "Oh."

    "Yeah so that isn't going anywhere."

    "So mi apply fo dis? Or...Keting to wanya?"

    "I'll apply for this because I can write properly. You tell me what you've worked when I'm typing, but none of that belter shit."

    Glen grinned. When he most wanted to provoke a reaction he would call the earther by his second name or slip into belta. "Sounds gut"



    Now

    There were small meeting rooms around the docks that could be hired out. A nice little side earning for the dockmaster. Convoys would use them to plan the next trips, captains would use them to interview potential staff. There were plenty of folk out in the belt looking for work. Tadgh had done some reading up on the Azimuth. Changed hands a few times over the years but was in private ownership.

    That was the belter dream. Scrounge enough capital together to buy or rent a ship and start flying. Freedom from any corrupt UN corp. Following the dream. Tadgh just wanted to get by. Kicked out of his job at Bush shipyards, the belt was just where the work was.

    "I hope they talk to me first," Tadgh sighed.

    "What? Mi da most likeable of us eh?"
     
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  12. Lyla

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    Just before she was able to respond to the captain's question, another man stepped out of the crowd and addressed him directly. Her head tilted curiously to the side at the bold introduction, a few of her curls falling into her face from the gesture. Irritably, she swept the stray locks behind her ear as she listened.

    Sanchez, as he had introduced himself as, was a recruiter for the Belter Militia. Interesting. Her eyes narrowed slightly, as though skeptical of the man's intentions, but she didn't put her thoughts on the matter to voice. Instead, she turned her attention back to the captain and gestured towards Oz with her right hand with a clearly amused smirk on her lip. "Looks as though they're coming to us, Cap'n." She murmured, throwing on a mock martian drawl for the last word.
     
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  13. Omar Martinez

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    Omar had finished his last supplies stop and was now headed back to the ship. He had to haggle for almost every last item but he got most of what they needed. He pushed a simple cargo hauler down the station's halls, giving sly smiles to a couple of women who passed him by. The universe may be upside down, their ship account may be almost zeroed, but he was alive and docked somewhere. These days, you couldn't ask for much more than that.

    His hand terminal bleated out a comical noise that he had replaced the standard chime with. He checked it and listened to Maguire's message. He hit record and began his reply, "Sounds gut. Tengo los suministros y la comida. You cooking tonight, ya? No "Lyla special" dis time." He ended the last part with a smirk. He was referring to an incident the last time they made port and Lyla had tried her hand at using some new ingredients to try a recipe she had found on the network and nearly melted one of the food prep machines in the process. "Mi heading back to ship now. Will see if this new pilot there yet." He gave a minute nod and sent the message off.

    He reached the berth the Azimuth was parked in and turned the cargo hauler through the entry. Upon entering the berth he saw a slightly younger woman, who looked like she matched the picture of the new pilot that was in the profile they had received, sitting against a wall perusing her hand terminal. She looked up, presumably at the sound of the cargo hauler's wheels squeaking. "¿Que pasa, sésata? You Alanna, ya?" he said, raising his hand in the Belter greeting.

    @Steven Maguire @Alanna Marston
     
    #13 Omar Martinez, Jul 19, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 20, 2018
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  14. Alanna Marston

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    Alanna looked up from her hand terminal when the door to the berth slid open and a man pushing a load of cargo entered. Definitely not the captain of the ship — she knew what her new boss looked like from his profile on the job listings. No, this guy was probably a crew member, or maybe just a dock worker. She hoped it was the former, because the ground was getting a little uncomfortable.

    "¿Que pasa, sésata? You Alanna, ya?" He raised a hand in the traditional Belter greeting, and she returned the gesture, getting to her feet with little effort in the low gravity. The fact that he knew her name seemed to suggest he worked on the Azimuth, which was a good sign.

    “Yeah, that’s me. I showed up a little early, but I guess you’re the first one home. Should I wait here for the Cap, or is it alright if I go on in with you?”

    @Omar Martinez
     
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  15. Omar Martinez

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    "Na na, you can come with mi. I'll get you all set up. Name's Omar Martinez, I'm the XO. Fo keng to im gut." he said as he slowed the cargo hauler to a stop and extended a hand to her. "Read a lot about you. Seen some of your reporting on The Belt. What makes someone like you want to sign up with a rust bucket like us? It ain't for the captain's looks that's for sure." a goofy grin lighting up his face.

    @Alanna Marston
     
    #15 Omar Martinez, Jul 19, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 19, 2018
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  16. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

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    Captain Maguire kept his expression polite, if perhaps a little distant, while he worked on his response.

    It reeked of a setup. Volodin getting them into dock to put them on a job - fine. The man was slippery, but he was straightforward where it counted. That was one of the few reasons Maguire still worked with him.

    But putting people on his crew to keep an eye on him? Either Volodin had learned to play a whole different game or someone else was pulling the strings. The Captain decided he liked neither of those possibilities.

    Nevertheless, he wrapped his large hand around the Belter's bony one and shook.

    "Mr Sanchez. I'm Captain Maguire, and this here is Lyla. The Azimuth is my lady, to be certain, but it ain't a charity. You can either pay your fare or earn it, and I ain't particular which, but I don't do credit. Matter of fact, we're on our way to talk to a few potentials now, and you may as well come with us."

    It wasn't quite phrased as a suggestion, but then again it wasn't one. He moved off with the kind of powerful stride that only someone born of the Inner Planets could summon, keying the hand terminal to reply to his first officer.

    "Aya, Omar. Gonna need to grab some greens for that. But first, picked up another hopeful along the way. See you back on board, ya?"

    He drew out a small sum, wincing at how little remained, to put on Lyla's account.

    "Hey, Red. You good to grab some food for us while I meet with the two from the job listings?"

    She pulled out her own hand terminal to check the transfer, which was his cue to type a lightning-fast message.

    Call some favours, ask about these "Oz Sanchez" and "Glen Colson" characters. I'm not having any of Volodin's hitters on my ship.

    Also, extra black bean sauce on mine. Please.
     
    #16 Steven Maguire, Jul 20, 2018
    Last edited: Jul 20, 2018
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  17. Oz Sanchez

    Oz Sanchez Belter Militia Pilot

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    After hearing his speech, and his subsequent command, Oz pivoted on his meek and took a space opposite Lyla, getting in step with the pair. He looked over at her and smiled warmly but briefly, then looked ahead again. Looks like I have a new home, Oz thought to himself. He liked the look of the ship, but older models like that were uncomfortable and hard to maintain. They took a lot of love.

    When he saw the captain pull out a bit of cash, Oz stopped for a second and reached into his bag. He produced a smaller bag, that contained several thousand in various currency; new yen, UN dollars, poker chips, several bits of platinum, which represented a hefty chunk of his life savings. “Hey Cap, since I’m on this crew, I’d like to share my bit. How much you need bosmang?”
     
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  18. Alanna Marston

    Messages:
    68
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Alanna took the outstretched hand and shook it. “Good to meet you, XO. Guess you’ll be the one making sure I don’t crash the ship.”

    Martinez’s next comment surprised her. She’d always been a small-time journalist; her piece on the UN supply scandal had garnered some attention, but most of her other stories had — she’d thought — faded into the background. It was gratifying to have some recognition, even if the man had probably only stumbled upon it while doing background research on her. She grinned, partly at the quip about the captain and partly at the thought of being known for some of her reporting.

    “You know, the usual: I’m broke and want to get off Pallas. Isn’t that why everyone signs onto a crew?” She paused a moment before continuing to speak. “Honestly, the real reason — I mean, apart from being broke — is that I miss space. Didn’t realize how much I did until I got caught up in a crew a few months ago. That fell apart, but…eh, I guess I’ve always been a sailor at heart.”

    @Omar Martinez
     
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  19. Steven Maguire

    Steven Maguire Gotta keep flyin'.

    Messages:
    54
    Discord:
    HSAR
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Captain Maguire shook his head gruffly. Money was money, but there was a way things were done. The guy wasn't going to buy his good graces - not yet, at least. But he awarded points for trying.

    "I'm glad to hear it, Mr. Sanchez. Perhaps you can buy the next one. Or we always appreciate donations for dinner."

    He lapsed into silence just as they reached the place where they were to meet - he checked the applications - Tadgh Kearney and Glen Colson. It was a small meeting room, of the type where captains did their flight paths, held councils, or caught forty winks away from the flight deck.

    The pair were already there. A Belter kid and an Earther, nothing he hadn't seen before - and that was just fine. Average people tended not to attract trouble - and that was worth a whole pile of his non-existent money.

    "Mr Kearney, Mr Colson? I'm Captain Maguire of the Azimuth. This here is Mr Sanchez. Hope you were expecting us."
     
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  20. Lyla

    Messages:
    111
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Lyla noticed that Oz had offered her a quick smile when he fell into line, and she returned the greeting with a friendly smile of her own. Though her attention quickly shifted down to her hand terminal and she nodded along as she read over the message that was displayed on the screen.

    "Noodles and beans, coming right up, cap'n." She said brightly, glancing over to Oz after he'd pulled out the bag of money. Her large hazel eyes blinked twice at the brazen display. Was he trying to get them mugged? If this guy was a plant by Volodin, he wasn't exactly discreet. A hand passed through her curls, brushing them out of her face.

    "I'm going to run and grab us something to eat. Would you like anything, kopeng?" She asked Oz curiously. Though the woman was clearly a belter by her physical appearance, her accent and manner of speech did not quite match what one would expect from a casual rock hopper.
     
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