Look On The Bright Side
Jul 01, 2521 - 05:46:36 Invictus - Cargo Bay =>Invictus<=
This is the largest area of the Dragonfly class: a huge, cavernous room nearly the full length of the ship minus the Engine Room. The reinforced metal floor is littered with quick release clamps to easily attach or detach standard cargo containers. The huge cargo ramp is broad enough for the MULE parked on it to head in and out to load cargo. To conserve space, the MULE is usually parked on the ramp, causing it to be halfway outside the ship when it opens, although there's enough space left to park it inside when the ship's bay isn't fully loaded.
Beyond an airtight bulkhead to the aft is the ship's Engine Room. To the front, closer to the ramp, a stairwell leads up to the crew deck; and just beside it is some equipment for the crew to work out and exercise. Apart from that, the cargo bay contains shelves and lockers for the ship's own supply of parts, food and other things, along with any cargo onboard.
Grey runs up from the Cargo Bay, still wearing his flightsuit, and completely drenched in engine oil - yet again. "Fucking fuck fuck fucking fuck!" he yells as he runs, his right eye twitching. "Somebody get me a gorram cloth or a rag or a friggin towel or something!" he yells as he comes up into the Commons, hoping that somebody is close enough to hear.
Wren is close enough to hear, popping her head out from her cabin long enough to stare out at Grey as he bursts into the commons. There's a little yelp of alarm, and then her door slams shut, her small figure disappearing behind it. A beat. Another beat. And then she reappears, clutching a towel as she pads over to the cursing Captain.
Isabella hears the commotion out in the hallway and she opens up the door, looking out to see what her husband was yelling about. Seeing him covered in the oil, she gently shakes her head, rolling her eyes at him. "I don't know why you mess with that stuff. Why don't you leave the repairs up to the prefessionals." She turns and looks back into the room, taking a quick peek at the girls, before pulling the door shut. "Alright. Where's the mess?"
Grey lets out some strings of impressive language, just dripping grease and oil everywhere in the Commons until Wren arrives with the towel. "You are a goddess amongst... non... goddess-y... people," he says as he wipes off his face and hair. "I definitely completely forgot to replace that stupid, /STUPID/ part. At least we didn't friggin' explode in flight. Gorram. Now we're gonna hafta hire a mechanic on-world ta fix it 'fore we go back ta 'Seph..." His voice trails off as Isabella comes out of their room. "Down in the Engine Room," he says to Isabella, wrinkling his nose. "The thing from the big square block-y lookin' thing goin' to the other big chunky part of the engine there, the one that spins, it's busted. Turns out my skills with Capital ships don't translate to any amount of skill with Transports."
Wren stares at Grey as the stream of language seems to flow right over her, barely focusing on him as he wipes his face and hair with the provided towel. Her eyes turn rather blankly to Isabella as she speaks for a moment, and then she just backs up next to a wall, presses her back to it and stands there.
"Yeah. Great. Like I said, why don't ya just leave the ship fixing to those of us that know what we're doing?" She grins, continuing to shake her at him. "I'll go down to the engine room and fix the mess you made. There's no need to hire any sort of mechanic. I can fix it, just give me a little while. Just, keep an ear out for the girls. They're both awake, but they're watching some movie or something, on the Cortex." She shrugs gently and starts to make her way towards the place where she last left her tools. Which, she really isn't sure where that is.
Grey wrinkles his nose again. "That smell ain' oil," he comments as he holds the towel up in front of him, examining it. "What...?" He looks at Wren. He starts stripping out of his sopping wet flightsuit, just in boxers and a plain T-Shirt underneath. "Ugh. That's wasted now. I'm gonna hafta get a new one now." He grins sheepishly to Isabella. "Well, I didn't wanna pull you away from the girls or anything, I thought I could jury-rig it. Sorry. I'll be down in a sec once I get decently cleaned off and in my coveralls?"
Hazel green eyes shift from Grey to Isabella and back again, still not entirely focused on either one. But the towel seems to finally fully attract her attention and she stares at it for a long moment. "Ummm..." she begins, and then stops, hands fluttering weakly at her sides.
"And what have we learned from this?" Isabella calls out over her shoulder as she turns back and looks at her husband. "Get yourself all cleaned up and then once you have the girls put into bed, come find me. I'll show you the *real* way to fix things. But, even after I show you. Please, *please* don't try and fix them anymore." She grins, turning back around to head off towards the engine room again.
"Ummm... What?" Grey asks Wren, not yet decided on if he wants to wipe down quickly with the towel before jumping into the shower, or if he's going to just leave a trail of oil from the Commons to his Quarters to be cleaned up later. He starts kicking the dripping flightsuit back to his quarters, not wanting to pick it up or leave it just lying there. "Oh, come on," he says to Isabella. "You know I'm gonna try. So why even tell me that?" He grins almost boyishly as he heads toward the Captain's Quarters where he /knows/ Wolf is going to jump on him just so he'll have to give her a bath later. "I'll get cleaned up fast and put the girls to bed. And then I gotta clean this mess." He nods down to the trail of oil coming up from the Commons and leading right into their room.
Alabaster Smith emerges from the crew quarters, and takes a look at the mess Grey has made. "Ah'm not cleaning all that up," he says with a chuckle. "Ah only clean up reasonable messes, and the kitchen. But anyway, greetings, everyone."
"Well, umm, I was... There was... See," Wren starts and stops, looking entirely flustered and as if she desperately wishes to sink into the hull of the ship and disappear altogether. "I didn't KNOW you were gonna come runnin' up here, and be all-- all..." she flails a little at him with her hands, reduced to wordlessness.
Grey stops right in the doorway, a chill setting in at Wren's flustered words. "Out with it now," he says quietly, knowing he's not going to like it. "There was... what?" He looks up when the preacher arrives. "Clean up? This don't need clean up. Just drop a match, problem solved."
Wren turns her head to look toward Alabaster as he arrives on the scene, and fidgets for another moment before allowing her gaze to drop. "You're gonna glow," she mumbles to the floor, shrugging her shoulders up around her ears.
Alabaster Smith quirks an eyebrow at Grey, then looks to Wren. First, he informs Grey that, "Settings things on fire may be a quick, all-consuming manner of cleansing, but a mite impractical on a spaceship." Then he offers Wren a comforting smile. "It's okay, whatever it is."
"I'm gonna /what/?" Grey asks, looking at the towel with skepticism. "What the hell kinna towel makes a man glow? Are ya sure?" He shakes his head, looking dubiously at the Shepherd. "Like hell it's okay. How is that okay? I don't wanna glow!"
Taking a little sidestep, Wren sidles closer to Alabaster, the reassuring one. "Pretty sure. I was 'sperimenting with alternative light sources, and, well, it kinda spilled, and the towel was kinda there, and then you were kinda there, and it was an ACCIDENT," she tells Grey, darting quick worried glances at him between looking at her feet.
Alabaster Smith blinks. "See?" he points out to Grey, recovering from Wren's statement quickly. "Glowing isn't so terribly bad. You won't need a nightlight for a while. You can read in the dark without necessarily disturbing your family."
"Yeah. Without disturbing my family. Except my daughters will NOT go to sleep when I try to put them to bed tonight, because I will be bioluminescent, and my wife is gonna send me to sleep in another bed." Grey rolls his eyes and pushes through into his room.
Wren goes back to fidgeting uncomfortably while trying to press herself into the bulkhead, keeping her eyes firmly positioned on the floor.
Alabaster Smith glances back to Wren, and shrugs a little. "Ah thought it was amusing. Are you okay, mah dear? Do you need help straightening things up?"
Wren brushes at her cheeks with quick swipes of her hands, refusing to look at Alabaster. "Don't really got all that much stuff," she mumbles, shrugging her shoulders again. "Shouldn't take too long to get it all together..."
Alabaster Smith nods to her, and offers another comforting smile. "Then everything's okay? Nothing you need help with? Now's the time to say so, while Ah'm available."
Trandyr walks down into the Cargo Bay from his quarters and sees the Captain, XO, and Hydroponics Engineer gathered. Sauntering over, he waves and smiles at the group. "How's everyone doing? Glad to see no one was any worse for the unconventional landing."
"No, it's not okay," Wren bursts out with. "Capn's glowin', an' I'm fired, an' it's all gone wrong again," she tells him in one long exhalation of breath, shaking her head. She glances over to the pilot, but doesn't say anything, only giving him a strained, forced smile.
Alabaster Smith quirks an eyebrow. "Funny, you don't seem fired to me," he replies. "If there was firing involved, there'd be a whole lot more yelling, Ah suppose. So just you relax."
His broad smile becomes a startled frown in an instant at Wren's words.
"Wait, back up a minute. You lost me. Can we replot this course? I have no clue what you mean by the Capn 'glowin, and how'd you get fired?"
Looking confused, Trandyr hits himself lightly in the shoulder, as if trying to wake up.
"You aren't playing a joke on the new guy, are you?"
"There was a lotta yellin'," Wren counters dubiously, finally looking up at Alabaster, eyes bright with unshed tears. She turns her gaze to Trandyr and shakes her head. "Cuz I made the Cap'n glow," she informs him dully, "with a towel."
Alabaster Smith reaches over and pats Wren's shoulder, comfortingly. "Trust me," he says, "unless he outright says you're fired, you're fine. Ah mean, so what if he glows a little? That's new and interesting, not job-threatening, around here." He looks over, and gives Trandyr a smile of greeting.
Trandyr turns and really looks at Grey's Cabin for the first time, then back at Wren, then back at Grey's Cabin. After a long, silent moment he turns to the XO and Engineer and an odd look overcomes him...then he doubles over and begins laughing uncontrollable. For over a minute, he keeps laughing, until finally he is able to straighten. Turning to the Preacher, he quips, "Pray for me, that I never have to eat her food, alright?" Then he collapses into gales of laughter once more.
"I'm not fired?" Wren repeats, looking at the Preacher hopefully. "Really? Cuz, usually, I'm fired when somethin' like this happens," she notes before turning to look at the suddenly laughing pilot. "But... He didn't eat my food..." she says, a look of utter confusion covering her face.
Alabaster Smith smiles broadly. "See? You have to give it some time, mah dear. Settle in. Don't worry about the little accidents. We all make mistakes." He nods to Trandyr. "Ah do the cooking, but she's the one who'll be growing mah spices and herbs."
Trandyr continues trying to contain his laughter, but finally manages to control himself enough to ask, "Wouldja be too offended if I brought my own food aboard?" Oddly, that sets him off into a whole new peal of laughter. Finally though, he calms himself down completely, and turns to face Wren. "Begging yer pardon Ma'am, I really wasn't laughing at ya. Well, ya, okay, I *was* laughing at ya. But I didn't meant nothin' by it. I hope ya took no offense?"
Sniffling, Wren manages a smile in return to Alabaster, scrubbing at her face with one hand. "An' peppers. An' tomatoes," she adds with a nod, regarding Trandyr with continued puzzlement. "But it wasn't the food," she insists, not appearing offended, simply very confused.
Trandyr says in English, "Then what was it, ma'am?"
Alabaster Smith arches an eyebrow at Trandyr. "You're welcome to supply your own food, but Ah promise, what Ah serve is generally quite good, and home-cooked." He grins. "Not that Ah can force anyone to eat mah cooking."
"The towel," Wren answers. "Well, the powder that was on the towel, that he rubbed all over his face an' hair an' stuff," she clarifies a bit.
Trandyr steps over and pats Wren's shoulder lightly, trying to comfort the poor girl. Hoping she's soothing down a bit, he says, "Look, Wren, I know you made the Cap'n glow. And the door to his Cabin. But how? That's what I want to know. How can *I* make him glow whenever *I* get angry with him? Unless you tell me that, I can't help ya much, now can I dear?"
"Oh. People are making the Cap'n glow?" Tyr appears at the threshold between the cabins and the commons. "Maybe that's something I shouldn't be here lookin' at." He looks ready to head back.
Alabaster Smith grins. "Ah don't think any of us really need to make the Captain glow. It's not a recommended practice. Once is fine, but after that..."
Trandyr somehow manages to continue containing his laughter, as he looks at the XO in an expression of mock seriousness. "S'okay Preacher, I promise you won't be implicated at all. We'll blame it all on..." Looking around for a victim, he settles on the new arrival. "TYR! We'll blame it all on Tyr. And when I rule the world, I promise you can be Cap'n on the ship. How's that sound?"
Wren frowns at Trandyr. "I was 'sperimenting with alternative light sources," she explains before nodding emphatically with Alabaster. "No flambe, no glowing," she states definitively. One more thing added to her list of Things We Should Not Do. Her gaze slides over to Tyr, and then back to the plotting pilot. "Bad. Very bad," she declares solemnly.
"Wait. Do I get to be the Cap'n on the ship, or does the preacher?" asks Tyr. He seems confused. "Because if I get to be Cap'n, it might be worth it, but I dunno if being the person whose fault it is is so shiny if I don't get to be."
Alabaster Smith holds up a hand. "No flambe, no more making the Captain glow, and no replacing the Captain," he declares, setting down some ground rules. "Now, does everyone here know everyone else, by the way? Ah haven't been around as much as usual, so Ah don't know who knows whom."
Trandyr turns away from Wren and back to Alabaster. "No, I don't think Tyr has met me yet, but you mentioned him to me." Turning to Tyr he holds out his right hand for the gentleman to shake. Over his shoulder, he tries one last time to convince the XO. "Are ya sure, Sheppard? I really would make ya Cap'n. Or at least first mate. That'd be a good promotion, right?" Grinning in mock maliciousness, he turns back to Tyr. "Great to meet ya. I'm Michael Trandyr, Pilot...when, that is, I'm not plotting to overthrow somebody or another."
"No replacing the Captain," Wren echoes the Preacher, nodding once more. She's in complete agreement with the rules, just occasionally in violation of them. "Haven't met, just seen," she adds, nodding to Tyr.
Tyr shakes Trandyr's hand and then offers it over to Wren. "Uh. Hi. I'm Tyr Bannik. I do -- all sorts of stuff, really, but not any of them real well or anything. I think the Cap'n took pity on me or somethin'. But it's shiny to meet you both."
Alabaster Smith nods cheerfully. "Tyr Bannik, general deckhand and security, meet Wren Pearson, our Hydroponics Engineer, and Trandyr, our new pilot. And so on, and so forth. Everyone, do play nice. Ah'd hate to feed malcontents to the pirates."
Trandyr says,"Wait, aren't we the pirates? I signed up to be a pirate." Suddenly, he's laughing all over again.
Wren takes Tyr's hand tentatively when offered, as if not entirely certain what to do with it at first. "Shiny," she repeats with a vague nod, blinking at the Preacher for several moments. "Pirates," she mouths, not vocalizing the word, but simply considering it.
Tyr smiles a little oddly at Wren for a moment, but takes his hand back. "Hydroponics, huh?" he asks. "That sounds real interestin'. What sort of things do you do with that on a place like this?"
Alabaster Smith grins at Trandyr. "No, Ah'm afraid we're not quite pirates. But trust me, we're a lot less likely to get shot on sight by the Alliance." He shakes his head, looking amused. "Lot less likely indeed."
Trandyr bites his lower lip, as if barely containing laughter, then lowers his head into his hands at about chest level. After a minute, he balls up his fists and rubs them against his closed eyelids, as if trying to wake up, or gain control of himself. After a minute, with everyone staring at his sudden change, he looks up to Smith. "Preacher, I don't think those treats I got before we left Persephone were exactly...kosher. I know that our Doc ain't in at the moment. Could you direct me to a nearby hospital?
"Same as anywhere," Wren responds to Tyr, warming to the subject automatically. "Just in a bit smaller space and with a few less resources," she continues with a nod. "I've got some herbs growin' just now, but soon as I can get a wheel rigged up, I'll get some peppers an' tomatoes growin'... A few pepinos, too," she adds, looking as if she might just continue on rambling about fruits and vegetables, until something Trandyr is saying penetrates and she turns to stare at him. "What?"
Alabaster Smith furrows his brow, and looks concerned. "What manner of symptoms are you feeling?" he asks. "Ah'm no doctor, but Ah might be able to find you something in Med Bay if you're feeling sick."
Trandyr starts to answer the XO's question then, as a laugh begins to form, thinks better of it. Rushing back up to the bridge, he comes dashing back in momentarily, waving a pad of paper and a pen, upon which he begins to write.
Cannot Stop Laughing
Everything Hilarious
Can't Breath
Choking
World Dark
!!!Think it was the candy from Persephone!!!
He hurriedly throws the paper at the Sheppard and lowers his face back into his hands, his shoulders bouncing up and down as his body is wracked with laughter.
Wren continues to stare at the pilot as he dashes about. For once, she's not the person acting oddly, but that doesn't really seem to occur to her or afford any comfort. "What's wrong?" she wonders, standing on tiptoe to try and read over the Preacher's shoulder.
Alabaster Smith says dryly, "It seems our poor pilot has been the unknowing recipient of what some people might call... space brownies. Ah should have realized it sooner. In some remote parts of the community where Ah grew up, marijuana is still a healthy cash crop." He shakes his head, and sighs. "Ah don't think we'll be flying anywhere until he recovers." He looks to Trandyr. "And unless your symptoms get a lot worse, Ah think we might want to keep you away from a hospital. They ask uncomfortable questions."
Trandyr sighs and shakes his head, then replaces it in his hands. Mumbling through them, his words barely recognizable, he mutter, "Can you put me somewhere I can't mess anything up?"
Wren bobs her head up and down emphatically with Alabaster's recommendation. "Hospitals suck," she declares fiercely. "Better off stayin' here," she advises, glancing to the Preacher. "How long's he gonna be like this?" she wonders.
Alabaster Smith furrows his brow. "Hopefully not too long... a few hours? Ah'm not exactly an expert on this sort of thing, alas. The best place for him is either right here where we can keep an eye on him, or in his own cabin."
Suddenly, without any kind of warning, Trandyr faints, falling face-first down on the deck.
"Okay," Wren starts and then pauses to watch the pilot face plant onto the deck. "That's bad, right?" she wonders at Alabaster, crouching to peer at Trandyr without actually touching him.
Alabaster Smith mmms. "That's definitely abnormal," he agrees. "Ah hope he didn't hurt himself." He sighs, and crouches down to turn Trandyr over, so at least he's on his back. "Ah'm debating whether to leave him as he is, or drag him to a bunk."
Wren scuttles backwards, maintaining a distance between herself and the downed pilot as he's rolled over. "He looks heavy," she says dubiously, glancing back to the Preacher.
Alabaster Smith eyes the bloody nose, and makes a face. "Ah can tell it's going to be one of those nights," he says dryly, as he goes to get a damp washcloth. "Wren, be a dear and find something to shove under his head for a pillow?"
There's a slight pause while Wren blinks rapidly at something, and then she nods slowly. "Something... for his head," she repeats, rising from her crouch to raid one of the couches for a pillow.
Alabaster Smith smiles. "Much obliged, Wren. It's been quite a while since Ah had to take care of someone this... incapacitated," he says wryly.
Trandyr suddenly jerks his head back and groans loudly. Flopping himself over, akin to a fish out of water, he stares up at Wren and Alabaster, his eyes slightly gazed and no longer filled with mirth. Rubbing his head, he murmurs, "What the hell happened?"
She's no Florence Nightingale, that's made certain as Wren returns and shoves the pillow unceremoniously under Trandyr's head, still avoiding touching him as much as possible. His abrupt return to consciousness doesn't help matters, and she gives a yelp of alarm at his sudden jerk. Scrambling backwards, she stares at him wide-eyed and silent.
Alabaster Smith smiles at Trandyr. "You fell over. It was rather sudden and surprising. Ah must say, you haven't been having the best of nights, mah friend. We were just about to drag you to your bunk."
Trandyr rubs his sore nose, his palm coming away bloody, and holds up the pillow under his head. Holding it out towards the Preacher, he gives him and Wren a suspicious glare. "Drag me to my bunk, eh? Seems you made me pretty comfortable down here." Rubbing his nose a few more times, he slowly struggles to get up.
Yelling, glowing, collapsing, and glaring. Suddenly it's all been too much in one evening for Wren, and without a word she flees to the safety of her room, bare feet beating a rapid retreat across the ship's deck. There's a slam of her door shutting with resounding finality.
Alabaster Smith watches Wren go, and furrows his brow. "Oh yes," he says, "Ah can tell we're going to have an interesting time as the crew settles in around one another." He glances back to Trandyr. "Ah thought about leaving you where you were, but then realized someone might trip over you in the morning."
Trandyr groans again, having finally struggled to his feet and starts to walk away. Turing back at the last moment, he mumbles in Smith's general direction, "You know I'm keeping this pillow, right?", then walks off to his quarters.
