Solar Winds {Open / Accepting Applications}
 

Characters ~

Skeleton Profile:

If you'd like to apply with a character, fill out the blank form below and send it to me in a PM for approval.

Your character's occupation is either what they do for a living or what they specialize in (pilot, medic, armed combat, flying monkey trainer, etc). You can have a maximum of two occupations per character.

Traits are skills or quirks that are unique to your character (born behind the wheel, low/high constitution, weapons expert, mechanical affinity, hopeless romantic, etc. - be creative!) Maximum of four positive/helpful traits and minimum of one negative trait per character.

For your character's history, tell us anything you think we ought to know about them.

For appearance, you can either describe your character or provide a picture (I draw characters for a small fee - contact me via PM for details!).

Name, age, height, and weight are self-explanatory, ya dumbasses.



Profiles:

Name: Aria

Username: CupcakeDolly

Age: 24

Height: 5' 7”

Weight: 110 lbs

Occupation: Human Petri Dish

Traits:
Positive: Instant death on contact (in combat situations), Accelerated learning, Enhanced agility/acrobatics, Strong constitution.
Negative: Instant death on contact (in social situations), Scrawny and physically weak, Royal pain in the ass.
The Blight housed inside of Aria's body affects approximately 98% of the population, especially in the Core. While there's a chance that one might be immune to the virus, it's an extremely small one, and immunity wouldn't be apparent until after Aria had attempted infection.

Appearance:
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b8.../ariasmall.jpg

History: Approximately ten years after the Solar War, planets of the Core fell victim to a deadly virus known as “the Blight.” Victims experience a painful shutting down of their internal organs, and die in as little as one day. The origins and cure of the virus are still unknown.

Before the virus' sudden and violent introduction to the Core, a research facility known as ZevenGen on the planet Freyja had begun a long-term project involving the creation of biological hosts for certain diseases. Seventy-two human fetuses were genetically engineered and raised for the sole purpose of serving as hosts. Twenty-three years later, only one of the hosts remained: A female they called Aria.

Though obviously very bright, Aria's erratic temperament was difficult for the doctors and scientists to handle for most of her life. Around her twentieth year, she suddenly became very complacent and cooperative, under the direction of a newly hired doctor. It wasn't until three years later that ZevenGen realized they'd been infiltrated by an enemy spy and had the doctor captured and put to death. By that time it was too late; the second generation of human hosts still in the process of growing had been tampered with and destroyed, and Aria – the only remaining host for the Blight – had escaped from the facility.

Aria processes information quickly, and can learn new skills with very little effort. She doesn't easily associate with other people, and expresses disdain and jealousy for the freedoms and joys that they take for granted. The Blight living inside of her spreads through touch, so she wears thick clothing and gloves to prevent killing everyone she encounters.

Aria remains at large and three different sources – ZevenGen, the Edge Council of Seven, and an anonymous group somewhere in the Core – all offer an enormous bounty if she is delivered alive and intact.


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Name: Jack Axton

Username: Salone

Age: 32

Height: 6'

Weight: 198 lbs.

Occupation: Captain, Pilot*

Traits:
Positive: Resourceful and resilient, not easily bought. Able to maintain a positive outlook in a variety of situations. Can take a large amount of both physical and mental punishment.
*
Negative: Has wrecked every vehicle he has ever piloted. Has had too many prosthetics and implants than is legally allowed to replace damaged limbs and organs, and owes quiet a large sum on them. Occasionally has issues with said limbs due to their 'shady' procurement and installation, and lacks the technical aptitude to keep them functioning by himself. Is also too curious for his own good and can be astoundingly oblivious at the same time. Also has a slight addiction to alcohol to make him forget the overwhelming amount of debt he has.

Appearance:
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b8...axtonsmall.jpg

History: Jack got his start in bad luck in the cockpit of an ancient crop duster. After crashing and losing a leg in the aftermath, he applied for military service. Given a synthetic replacement, he signed on to fly fighter craft. After crash landing due to faulty maintenance, he was badly wounded and had to receive a synthetic lung and half a set of prosthetic ribs. Not knowing where else to put him, military brass selected him for their 'Experimental Craft' division. After several other crashes due to ship failure or human error, he was given a medical discharge on account of his numerous transplants. Left without a right arm, he took his last bit of earnings and bought a used ship.*

And promptly lost it when the engine blew in low atmo.

Left with no money and in even worse condition, he borrowed a large amount from unscrupulous sources. Using back alley surgeons to put him back together and conning his way in to used shipyards, he was able to secure another vessel. Now he's been busy securing a crew who can do the flying for him, and help him secure enough credits to pay off the rather large debt he owes on his very life and ship.


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Name: Omega Sentus Valeran
Nicknames: "Meg", "Maggie", "Mag", "Mega", "Mags", "Omi"

Username: Arrikanez

Age: 25

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 129 lbs

Occupation: Chief Medical Officer / Star Private Detective

Traits
Positive:
- Young for the Job: Most doctors are not out of medical college until they are at LEAST 30. Omega has shaved TEN years off of this by being brilliant, and it shows in his work.

- "Elementary, My Dear": Omega has a near Sherlock Holmes level of observation and intellect. He can tell a great deal about someone just by putting two-and-two together in his head. For example, when he met Jack, he could tell he had been to the poorer parts of town, that he was looking for a crew, and that a good deal of his ventures went awry - just by observing the way he held himself, some dirt on his boots, and the way his hair was disheveled.

- Cool Head Under Pressure: Almost a requirement for a doctor, Omega has the ability to remain calm and collected during a crisis, even when he doesn't exactly know what he's supposed to do.

- Medical Miracle Worker: Because of his lack of job, and an under-challenging career planetside, Omega has had a lot of time to do research, and brush up on techniques and usage points for instruments that most other doctors shun as 'too dangerous' or 'will never work'. As a result, most anything that's wrong with you, he can fix. It just takes some time, effort on his and your part, and a whole lot of trust.

Negative:
- Can't Resist A Challenge: Like Holmes, Omega becomes bored very easily. He needs something to occupy his mind and body almost constantly, or else he tends to 'invent' challenges for himself. This means that when a mental challenge DOES come along, he pretty much HAS to follow it. His mind won't allow him to ignore it.

- Not Good With Guns: Despite training himself how to fight in hand-to-hand, Omega is NOT good with firearms. He can aim and shoot in a calm, steady manner - with a lot of time to line up the shot. In a combat situation, he might just shoot YOU without meaning to. However, he's good with other weapons.

- Doctor, Heal Thyself: Omega doesn't exactly have the best constitution in the world. He gets sick very easily, and - while he deals with pain alright - isn't USED to pain. There are parts of his body [his heart, his lungs] that don't work at full capacity due to the dubious origins of his birth, [explained in 'History] but he tries his hardest to keep up.

- From The Core / From A Freak: A social stigma that far outweighs his young age, is that he was born on the Core - and when he's angry enough, his carefully cultivated manners and accent slip back into the backwoods, almost southern twang of his birth. Added to this, both of his parents were male, and one of them was genetically engineered to be able to give birth BEFORE he found Omega's 'Mother'. So not only his parents, but he himself, is often regarded as a freak.

Appearance:
http://i17.photobucket.com/albums/b8...-san/omega.jpg
Omega looks a bit odd at first glance. A lot of this is because of his genetically altered father, but some of it is just plain inexplicable. There have been theories that his "Mother" had been ingesting poisonous plants during his pregnancy, or some curse or another was laid on him - but whatever the case, he looks how he looks.
Omega's hair is literally a myriad of colors. White as the base, but Red, Orange, Yellow, Blue, Indigo, and Violet throughout, with black tips. That being said, his hair is really the most complex part of him. His complexion is fair, and his eyes are bi-colored. One eye is a pretty gray-silver, and the other is golden [not uncommon for the part of the planet on which he was born]. He keeps his hair short, but it seems to be impossible to tame, always giving him a shaggy 'just got out of bed' look that no amount of gel or combing seems able to fix.
Clothing-wise, he almost always wears his white labcoat, and a fancy stethoscope around his neck [old earth-standard, as it was given to him by one of his favorite teachers]. Whatever else he wears under that is usually casual, and he is generally wearing boots.

History:
Omega means last, and this boy was supposed to be the 'last' child his "mother" would have. Eight kids later, that's not exactly true. However, despite his name, Omega has become the FIRST in his age-range to become a full-fledged Chief of Staff in the medical field, and the FIRST of his class to receive an invite to work aboard a vessel. This is also an amazing feat, because the Valeran family - inhabitants of one of the planets of the Core - has always refuted space-travel as a waste of time. Omega doesn't exactly find this true.
The boy was born to two males - one of whom came to the Core planet to escape testing, and had already been genetically engineered to be able to give birth. It was a natural to DO so, when he fell in love with another man on that planet, and thus Omega was born - the second out of ten children born in this manner - although most of the others stayed with their parents.
He studied at a backwoods medical school until a visiting dignitary from one of the other worlds caught him treating a group of kids for an infectious bacteria [without tools, mind] and offered him the chance to attend a real college for medicine, with himself as the patron. His concerns were for his family, which were taken care of quite nicely by a large stipend given to his out-of-work father, which allowed them to move out of the slums, and into one of the more populated cities on a planet of the Edge. Once that was taken care of, Omega gladly accepted the chance to become 'A real doctor, capable of doing good for everyone'.
The boy graduated with honors far sooner than anyone else his age, and was almost immediately snapped up by one of the high-class hiring agencies, nearly the moment he graduated at the tender age of twenty. He worked first for a cargo ship, then progressed up the ranks in skill and command, until he was working as Chief Medical Officer on a large passenger ship. He was on 'Planetside Leave' to visit his parents when the ship was attacked and destroyed by pirates. Amazingly, most of the crew and passengers survived through use of lifecraft, but the ship itself - and the job aboard it - was summarily defunct, and he was forced to look for work again.
Now twenty-five, it has been a year since he's worked aboard a ship, although he has been keeping himself busy with a small practice on one of the inner planets, tending the wealthy for illnesses real or imagined.
Somewhere in that year, he discovered that he has insane talent not only as a doctor, but as a near-Sherlock-Holmes level detective. His skills of observation rank up there WITH that famous fictitious private eye, and not all of the clients through his doors approach for medical reasons....


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Name: Liam

Username: Espy

Age: 19

Height: 5'3

Weight: 120

Occupation: Mechanic, Pirate Artifact Collector

Traits
Positive:

Mechanicking: Liam loves to tinker with and fix things, especially rather ancient-looking gadgets he steals finds.
Observative: Especially with regards to rich-looking and/or gullible people.
Decently agile: Although not as fleetfooted as he would like to be, Liam can still weave his way through crowds to shove his overly-confident self in front of unsuspecting ship captains in need of repairs. Of course, that's not at all due to his small frame...

Negative:

Mechanicking: Is also prone to blowing things up, and usually makes it out of the wreck in time to escape angry captains/patrolling guards. Usually.
Compulsive Liar: His lies get him into more trouble than out of. Perhaps it's because of their sheer ridiculousness?
Physically weak: If you threaten to beat him up, Liam will probably give you what you want. Or at least an imitation of it. In any fistfight, if he hasn't knocked the opponent out in the first half a minute, he's in deep shit.
Lazy dreamer: Instead of actually working, Liam can often be found asleep inside whichever ship he's supposed to be fixing. He's also been caught several times by his employers, just gazing off into space. Ask him enough, though, and he might tell you of the rainbow bunnies and swirling taffy he's been dreaming of.

Appearance:
http://i610.photobucket.com/albums/t...psd2ded056.png

History:
Picked up off the streets by a kind captain who he had been attempting to rob, Liam lived the next three years of his life aboard a ship as an apprentice mechanic, learning the trade from the crew. Then they stumbled upon some rather difficult times, and, unable to keep up with the repair costs of the ship and getting on in years, the captain sold the ship, with the whole crew, to an old merchant whose spoiled son sought to live the life of a rich captain. Only two months afterwards, the crew had all but deserted, and Liam was once again left to fend for himself.

...But with the added knowledge of ship repairing.

And only another year later, he has been kicked off as many ships as he has contracted (as a mechanic), and now seeks to simply repair docked ships...while scrounging through their contents and picking out the shiniest baubles, which he hawks around docking points, hoping someone gullible enough will buy them.

Repairing a wrecked ship on Limbus was no easy task. The little moon orbiting like beautifully tuned clockwork around the border planet of Hubur served as a port for all ships entering or leaving the Edge and Core territories. As such, there was very little emptiness to be found on its surface, only a sea of bodies and machinery filling the landscape with constant motion and activity. For a newcomer, navigation through the winding roads and massive crowds was made impossible without assistance from a portable Cortex device. Mechanics set up shop at every intersection, merchants peddled food and wares in loud shouts, and Edge Units patrolled languidly in groups of two or three in front of every row of docks. Most everyone did their business - whatever it may have been - with a gun in hand or hidden from sight.

For a ship such as Vera, parked precariously on her belly (after her landing gear had been stripped away by a hasty landing), getting airborne again among the cluster of people and activity would be a long and tedious process. If there were any outskirts of civilization to be found on Limbus, Vera had certainly found it - though huge crowds still filled the area, and the people within them were more questionable in their intentions and values, and the presence of Units was more noticeably scarce. Mechanics and parts brokers alike hovered near Vera and other nearby wrecks, pacing impatiently and waiting to swoop in at the slightest hint of vulnerability.

All the while, hidden from the physical world, the Cortex flashed with news and bulletins on local screens and handheld devices, faster than any human could reasonably see. Among the usual highbrow stories from the social elite, sales and advertisements from shopping networks, and the occasional nonsensical gibberish from cult groups, a network reserved specifically for law enforcement and bounty hunting showed a multitude of faces and statistics in quick succession. Among them were a thirty-something man with a scarred face and neck, and a gaunt young girl in a hospital gown.



Though all of this might have been crucial knowledge, Aria knew nothing about any of it.

Because Aria was inside of a box.

The front hatch to Vera lowered lazily, as if the hydraulics were about to give. A battered figure emerged from the battered ship. Jack Axton coughed, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs. He took a moment to get his breath back, surveying the suspicious crowds before him and speaking to no one in particular.

"Well, we stuck the landing. And got stuck landing. Not the best landing in the universe. But we landed, and that's what matters."

He leaned against the side of the hatch, looking up towards the rest of his ship. It was a banged up wreck, coated in more scorches from batched reentries than it was replacement metal to cover said burns. The actual ship had never been pretty, but it didn't need to be. It was an 03-K64 "Albatross" class transport. The class name had been fitting for the series, as they took a lot of the bird's characteristics. The upfront cockpit dipped down a bit at the front to give full view to the pilot. It was a medium size transport, but appeared squat due to the size of the fuselage. Two small overhung wings protruded from each side, ending in thrusters that seemed almost comically large for the small ship. The end of the ship grew smaller as it progressed, tapering off before flaring up in to a tail section, with a middle fin and twin angled wing portions on either side. The sides of the fuselage bulged at the extreme edges, rounding out before flattening to the bottom part of the ship. And at the moment, the ship was resting on its actual bottom. The landing gears had been lost in Jack's horrid landing, and weren't the only things that would need to be fixed. He certainly had his work cut out for him.

He grinned as he looked away from the top part of his ship. He let out a small chuckle, as if someone had told him a joke.

"Yep, will have to grab that too. Guess I should tell the doc. But what would a note say, Vera? 'Mechanic's dead, details later.'? He's busy doing...doctor things. I'll be back, don't let anyone in unless I would. And that's them who can pay."

With a press of a button he slipped in to the crowd, not bothering to make sure the front hatch raised this time. He melded in to the hustle and bustle to find what all captains need at one point or another: parts, people, and money.

And this time, Jack Axton needed all three.

The nearby vultures working on the crusty edges of Limbus were still chattering about the ship that had half-landed, half-crashed into port, but Orel Shaw had been fortunate enough to be close to the heap when it gave out. The man had little, if anything, going for him - he wasn't particularly bright or talented, and his body was lengthy and face scarred with pockmarks - but his fantastic luck was indisputable, and likely the only reason he could hold a job working for a famous (and infamous) local tradesman.

When the ship's hatch had opened, Orel pounced, pushing aside another vulture to step up beside the man that had just emerged, matching his pace as he walked. "Howdy, traveler! I was just over there admiring your landing. Looks like you've got a bit of a..." he paused to search for an appropriate term, "...steaming heap of shit to deal with there. If you've got a need for spare parts, my boss's set up not too far over. Maleady's his name, and he's got everything you could need." Orel paused here to take a deep breath from his tireless banter then continued on in a rush. "Tools, armor, nav systems, engines, compression coils - those little suckers give out on everyone, but Julius' the only one for miles who's got 'em - we can even find you cheap labor, and if we don't got it, we can get it! What do you say, sir? I can walk you over there now and get you all fixed up and on your way."

Jack's eyebrows shot up as the man had pounced in to his very close personal space, climbing higher and higher as he continued talking and were in great danger of packing up their things and moving to just under his hair line. He gave the man a moment to catch his breath before he replied, his facial expression settling in to a devilish grin.

"Well now, that's a mighty fine offer. Problem is these parts I need aren't spare. It's what I need to fly. But you got what I need, and if the askin's fair, I think we can deal."

As he spoke, his eyes darted quickly through the rest of the hustle and bustle, looking for the other man that this haggard fellow had shoved out of the way. He had half a mind to give his business to the unlucky hawker out of sheer principle, but he didn't want to stray far and he was slightly afraid that this unseemly person might explode if he were to turn down his sales pitch.

Omega heard, felt, and smelled the rough landing from his little doctor's office in-ship, and waved away the smoke and steam that came pouring inside. He had been working on a new set of prosthetic limbs, as well as trying to form some semblance of order to the medical records he had on file for the... well, they couldn't really be called a crew yet, could they? The rainbow-haired genetic freak of a doctor had hooked up with Jack about a year ago, and they had been traveling, just the two of them and various mechanics, since then. It was high time the ship gave out though. As he was always fond of telling Jack: 'I put PEOPLE together, and sometimes robotics. I'm no doctor for this piece of junk you call a ship'. Harsh, perhaps, but without new parts in most every port, the thing had been giving them trouble from the get-go.

Sighing and putting down the scalpel he'd been using to fasten a tiny screw, he pushed himself up, and flipped on the air vent system before grabbing his stethoscope off one of the counters, hanging it around his neck, and shoving his hands in his pockets. It was time to find the wayward Captain. This time planet-side, he knew Jack planned to pick up personnel, and there was no way any of them were coming aboard the craft unless Omega had a good look at them. Physically, it was to reduce the cost, or calculate the cost, of medicines he'd need to buy and supplies he'd need to salvage. But there was a mental factor to it too. That was simple; if he couldn't stand the man or woman? They weren't coming along.

He exited the ship amid smoke, and noticed that the mechanic appeared to be limp and lifeless. A quick pulse check confirmed the obvious.

"Dammit Jack..." he muttered under his breath. "That's the third one this hunk of junk has claimed."

He kicked the ship for good measure, upon which one of the pipes that had been hanging on for dear life above, fell two inches in front of him with a clatter.

"Yeah. New parts, new people. And this time..." he trailed off as he caught sight of the Captain weaving his way through people, and raced to catch up to him.

"THIS time let's not kill anyone!" he said as he reached the man. "You know that's the third mechanic in a year? That's a bit much. That hunk of junk is a flying death-trap. I'd just gotten his records in order too. Who's this?"

He finally seemed to realize he was interrupting Jack talking to someone, and his eyes immediately narrowed. A broker, most likely. Judging by the planet they were on, possibly a swindler too. Most swindlers were wary of a genetic freak like Mega - it was why Jack kept him around, probably.

Orel grinned at the newcomer, both at his appearance and out of friendliness. "Welcome to Limbus, stranger. Both ya'll follow me, it's just over here."

"Just over here" happened to be about half a mile away from where Vera had landed. It was an unassuming structure comprised of a shaded warehouse and a large dock for accomodating anything as large as a cargo ship. Outside of the building, a man stood with a scowl on his face and watched a vanship driving away, leaving unwanted cargo and a trail of dust. The large man turned to a smaller, oriental worker (a quiet man known only as 'Beetle') who'd set about loading their new cargo onto a forklift. "I know that says 'struts,' but it ain't. Set it aside from the rest." He saw Orel returning with fresh prey and the man tensed, cracked his neck, then worked up a half-smile and walked up to greet them.

"Orel, get your ass over t' helping Beetle with that cargo. Gentlemen!" He addressed the scarred man and the freak with the colored hair. The former seemed familiar somehow, though he couldn't place why, and was obviously the easier mark. The latter, however strange he looked in appearance, seemed sharper than his companion. "I'm Julius Maleady, The Tradesman." He said the title in a way that emphasized its capitalization. Julius was a well-built, muscular man. He could have been handsome if his face had not been ruined by what must have been several sharp and heavy objects. He carried himself and spoke in a way that asserted his dominance and control, and promised pain and suffering should anyone choose to ignore either. However, his words were warm and welcoming when he spoke, perhaps even genuinely so. "What can I help you folks with?"

Jack put out his left hand to shake Julius'. He grinned, believing in earnest that this was his quickest way of getting airborne again.

"Jack Axton, a pleasure. Now what I'm needing is a whole mess of things. Compression coil and a spare for an 'Albatross' class freighter is the single biggest thing I need right now."

He nodded, seeming pleased until an afterthought reminded him of all the other things he needed.

"No, I'll be taking that back. There's a few other things. Going to need two sets of aft landing gear struts, a tube of mylar hatch sealant, power-applicators, and a temp regulator. And one of those long stick things with a claw on the end that you use for grabbing stuff in hard to reach places."

He nodded again, feeling good with himself and not realizing how idiotic he looked at the moment.

"If you can get me all that, get me flying again, then I think we're in business,'Jules'."

"Now wait just a minute." Mega interrupted, having smelled a fish. Genuine although this man's demeanor may be, he had a keen eye, and was fairly sure some of those parts WEREN'T. Namely, the parts they were being shown just now. He may have been a doctor, but he was pretty well-versed on ship-parts. He'd gone over the blueprints for the Vera more times than he'd had patients. That is to say, a lot.

"Alright, Julius. My Captain may be a bit desperate for parts, but as I'm not the one flying the hunk of... " he trailed off quickly, then continued in a different vein. "Because I am not the one flying her, I can afford to scrutinize. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that compression coil is missing a socket, isn't it? The 'cargo bay' struts you're selling are too short for any cargo bay, and I'm imagining came off a single-passenger craft. No way they'd take a landing of our ship. Not to mention some of these things aren't exactly the real deal. They appear to be cobbled-together bits of other ships. Now...."

He steepled his fingers. "Because my Captain is too nice a man to ask himself, I will be blunt for him. If you don't show us the REAL parts, I imagine we will have to take our business elsewhere. So where are you keeping them?"

Julius was taken aback for a moment, and he glanced at the merchandise lying around them. Then he let loose a gigantic laugh and slapped a large hand on Omega's shoulder. "'Course, doc, how do you think we keep our prices so low?" He'd assumed the man was a doctor from the lab coat and stethoscope, but perhaps he was dealing with an eccentric mechanic instead. "I won't bother with any swindle, doc. I respect a man 'knows his ships, and I'll get you what you need. We'll just have to talk creds with your captain, and then -"

A loud clatter and a yelp sounded from the warehouse, and Julius turned to see Orel in the distance, staring dumbfounded at something on the ground. "Orel, what in the-?"

"It weren't me, boss!" Orel held up his hands. "It was this shit-for-brains Coreiental hurt his own self!" To which Beetle let out a string of something sharp and angry in a foreign language.

Julius stalked over to the pair, cursing loudly as he did, and shoved Orel backward. "Go deal with them," he barked and knelt beside Beetle, who was on the ground nursing limbs that may or may not have been broken. Orel threw up his arms in frustration and stopped to tilt the crate that had fallen onto Beetle's leg back into an upright position. He fixed the lid back into place and banged it tightly shut with his fist, all without having noticed the human arm that had been hanging limply from the box only moments before.

He approached the two men again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout that, folks. I'll gather your goods and get you on your way in no time. What was it you needed now?"

Jack's eyebrows rose in alarm once more, feeling entirely too awkward. He leaned close to Omega after the Tradesman had gone to help the hired hand, whispering in to his ear.

"Keep talking like that and maybe he'll give you a discount on account of you being so nice."

He grinned as he straightened up. He caught the tail end of the commotion that was going on, catching Orel's question to him.

"Like I said to Jules over there, I'm gonna need two sets of aft landing gear struts, a compression coil with all its parts, a tube of mylar hatch sealant, power-applicators, and a temp regulator for a thermometer. And one of those long stick things with a claw on the end that you use for grabbing stuff in hard to reach places. Lost an arm under the engine carriage and I haven't been able to get to it to space it out the airlock yet. Not attached to it anymore anyway, got me a new one here."

He chuckled to himself, grinning at both Orel and his own stupid joke.

Omega shrugged a bit, and gave his Captain a bit of a grin. "Just making sure you don't get cheated by this fellow." he murmured back into his ear. "Don't make such a big deal out of it, and you might even get a fair price. Remember I have meds to buy yet, and new supplies for the infirmary. Unless, that is, you want me treating your pain with under-the-table painkillers. As I recall, last time that didn't go so well for you."

He respectfully drew back to let Jack talk business, but found himself interested in the commotion from earlier. Truthfully, he was bored out of his mind these last couple weeks, and the lure of a mystery of any kind - be it benign or not - was just too powerful to resist.

Breaking away from the two, he headed, discreetly, toward the hangar where all the commotion had been. Something was up. That 'crash' had been a bit suspect. After all - isn't a worker like Orel there supposed to know his stuff well enough to avoid dropping things and the like? Or at least well-versed enough in the handling of his wares to make sure OTHER people didn't cause clattering and banging about....

Frowning with concentration, Orel took down a list of the requested items (drawing several question marks next to the "long grabbing thing" item on the list) and nodded to Jack. He handed over a slip of paper with an estimated total circled at the bottom. "You look over that, and uh..." He glanced behind him and saw that Julius was still otherwise occupied, "I'll start gathering your things."

The lanky worker jogged off and began gathering items onto a pallet for delivery, very nearly dropping - for the second time - the box marked "STRUTS, 03-K" as he misjudged its weight while moving it. Meanwhile, still crouched behind several crates, Julius spoke in a hushed voice to Beetle in a foreign tongue as he wrapped the injured man's wounds in preparation for moving him. Julius' voice had to started to raise in volume when Beetle stopped talking and stared at the approaching doctor.

Julius looked up at the man, his expression carefully blank and indiscernible. "I'll take your creds over here, son," he called out and began helping Beetle toward a small office set to the side of the warehouse.

Jack followed Julius towards the office, fumbling through his pocket for something. As they entered, he produced a credit chit. He ran his fingers over it, keeping it pressed close in to his palm. In his other he looked at the list of parts and the total credit sum. He winced a bit, thinking about how much his bottom line was about to be dwindled. Fiddling with the credit chit, he struck up small talk with Julius.

"Alright Jules, let's crunch some numbers. Talk turkey, if you will. I need a ship airborne and you need money. Now this number here is a bit high. Number like that might lead a captain to have doubts. That leaves me with a ship on the ground and no credits to your credit. Now I was thinkin'. If this number were to be shaved by about fifteen percent. Then...then I think we'd have a deal. What do you say to that?"

He put on a grin, betting that they'd argue for a bit before haggling and eventually agreeing on a ten percent or even five percent discount, and Jack would be separated from the credits loaded to the chit that he held.

While Jack spoke, Julius was busy helping Beetle into a slumped position against the wall of his office. The man's gaze lifted instantly when he stood straight again, and though there was a slight smile on his lips his eyes were hardened and cold.

"No."

Julius sat at a desk and flipped through holographic screens on its surface, his eyes scanning charts, orders, and various other documents. After a moment he chuckled softly, as though Jack's offer were a mildly amusing joke. "You see, the figure we've drawn up for you is already a discount. Our trading methods ensure that inventory stays high while cost stays low. You're welcome to shop around and try to find a better price - or even someone who happens to have everything that you need in stock - but I assure you, we are the best." He lifted his eyes to meet Jack's again, and he hid a message within them, a sense of dangerous knowledge and leverage that swam in their depths. "But since I'm not an entirely unreasonable man, what I can offer you is free labor for repairs to your vessel. Now... If that suits you, I can go ahead and tell Orel to take your order to your ship and start work on it. It's up to you, Mister Axton."

"Well then. You twisted my arm. I'll take that help."

He grinned, throwing a small bag of silver credits across Julius' desk. With a quick turn he made towards the door. Outside he walked briskly towards Omega, grabbing his arm and spinning him around as he continued.

"Well Sunshine, it appears we'll be leaving our good friends here. We're squared away and soon enough will be in ship shape!"

He whispered to Omega, keeping his voice low enough just for him as they walked.

"You'll have to get your supplies next time, we're jumping off world as soon as possible."

Omega sighed and did a mental calculation about how many of each type of medication he had left. He had enough to get them through another month, but if he didn't get more bandages soon, he was going to have to start making his own out of the clothes of the dead mechanics. He gave Jack a sideways glance.

"You realize this is going to mean I'm going to have to cobble things together again? I had hoped to get a new set of scalpels here. Maybe some of that new fancy self-cleaning stuff. I have creds myself, Jack. but not enough to restock the entire ship's infirmary. We have, at best, a month's worth of painkiller left, and that's ONLY with no flare-ups."

He walked a little faster to keep up with Jack. "You alienated someone again, didn't you? See, this is why you need me around." he chuckled, joking with him to try and lighten the mood. "I know... Why don't I use my last few creds to get us a drink, and you some entertainment. You know I don't go for women, but how long has it been for you?"

"Oh, it's been long enough. Too long. I'd be liable to jump the gun a bit too quickly, if you know what I mean."

He chuckled to himself, weaving through the traffic outside as he directed Omega and himself back towards their ship.

"Going to have to pass on that though. I think that Jules character might have been tipped off to something. We got to talking numbers and things got cold. He knows something that I don't. That's not saying much, but this was different. Besides, while we're off having fun with girls and boys I'm sure he'd be chopping our ship apart, so 'our inventory stays high and our costs stay low'."

He wiggled his head back and forth, mocking Julius' manner of speech with the last part. Internally, he was a bit worried. He had next to nothing left, and jobs had been few and far between. He knew Omega's concerns were genuine. Jack himself had spent enough time bandaged up to become acquainted with the quickly diminishing supplies. If he didn't find a break soon, things were going to definitely turn sour for the both of them.

After watching to make sure both men had left the premises, Julius stashed the payment and hit the intercom to call for his workers. While he waited, he brought up a bulletin on the holographic desk interface, and the picture of the man who had just left stared back at him. "Wanted," it said, listing a slew of debt-related crimes and advertising a reasonable bounty. It was just as Beetle had suspected.

Julius had his hands clasped in front of his face in a contemplative pose when two repairmen and one engineer entered his office awaiting his instructions. "Meet the cargo at dock 42D and start work on the repairs... but make sure they don't leave too easily." He would have to settle for a more indirect approach. Having a bounty walk straight onto his property was too convenient to pass up, but as far as he still knew, Julius had a bigger score in his possession whose security took precedence over everything else.

Omega blanched a bit when he heard that, and sighed, walking even faster to keep up with his captain's frantic pace.

"Look... We have enough fuel to maybe get to the next town, but if we keep hopping, we're not going to have enough to get us out of here, and we'll be dead-ducks out there in the big black and empty."

He motioned widely to the sky. "We need to get an upgraded fuel tank, and there are three ways I know to do that. One, we buy one. Legit, with the creds I have in reserve. Two, we steal one. Three... you let me do the talking, and we might be able to run away with enough creds to get ourselves a new hull, let alone replacement parts."

He stopped Jack for a moment, and turned him around. "There are a lot of rich, sick, people - not on this world, but on one of the worlds closer to where I grew up. I interned there as a student, and I know several faces. Many of which might be willing to overlook... I dunno...." He dropped his voice several decibels. "A few smuggling and gambling charges, as well as massive debt. The faces I'm talking about might even be able to CANCEL those debts. Before we landed, I intercepted an urgent message from one of those planets. I was about to ask you about it before we landed here, and I figure now's a good time as any to bring it up. But we'd need two things before we zip offworld to answer these summons. YOU would need a medical corps uniform... and I would need a not-expired licence. And some other things besides. If we can't find them on this world, we should find them on the next. Also..."

He looked behind him quickly to make sure no one was following or listening to them. "We might be able to get that parts dealer in a great heap of trouble - enough for us to skip planet, and leave the cops something other to worry about than a debt-laden outlaw. You know I was walking around in the back to find some hull pieces... I saw part of his warehouse. I'm ninety-percent sure that a good deal of that warehouse is stolen goods. And there's one package in-particular I'd be interested to get my hands on. I THOUGHT I saw a human-shaped box. Or a coffin-shaped box. If they're trafficking dead bodies, I'm pretty sure that's against the law... But I'd need to get into the warehouse again to check."

"Squealing is a good way to wind up in that box. But I like the way you think. We definitely need something, and soon."

He stopped as he saw Julius' people had already beat him to his own ship, working quick to facilitate the repairs to his ship. The new gears looked rather slapped on, but they seemed amazingly almost done. A host of things that could go wrong ran through his mind, and were immediately forgotten about as he spied several other crates that had been brought on the repair run.. Grinning, he waved as he strolled past the repair crew. Amongst the chaos of crates containing parts, one or two boxes could easily go amiss, and not be missed too quickly.

Jack waited until the group had started to make a weld. Motioning to Omega, he mouthed to keep an eye on Julius' men. Under the cover of the light and noise, he quickly shoved the box amongst the various crates of trash in his own hold. Whistling to himself (Although there was no point as the sound of metal and sparks overpowered all), he mixed in his own random boxes to add to their own.

------------------------------

"Well gents, it's been shiny."

Jack waved the crew off of his ship, hurrying to get off planet. He had started the engine sequence before they were finished with welding the gear covers back on, earning a few swears and nasty looks. Locking the cargo bay door shut, he quickly spun to flash a devilish grin to Omega.

"Let's get off planet and in to trouble, shall we?"

Aria woke with a start.

For however long she had been put into artificial sleep, she had experienced nothing but constant and vivid dreams, and at first there was no way for her to know that this was not just another vision in her head. She felt her heart start up in a fast beat in her chest though, which was something that was not supposed to happen until she awoke.

After the confusion and delirium had lifted away the girl began troubleshooting the situation. It was still dark and cramped, and therefore she was obviously still secured in her transport container. A hissing noise by her left ear indicated that some hose or another had been knocked loose from her complex setup (she couldn't say what it did, but it must have been important because it came complete with an ominous flashing red light at its connection origin). Reasoning that - were she being properly cared for - somebody would have come to check on her status by now, and in fact wouldn't have handled her container so brutally as to knock her setup into disarray, Aria could only assume that something had gone wrong.

Her neck hurt, and her limbs were stiff, but that didn't stop her from violently kicking open the lid of the box.

The clatter resounded through the cargo bay. Aria stood - a thin, sterile white suit clinging to her body (leaving nothing about what was underneath to the imagination), double-thick black gloves on her hands and a black gas mask over the lower half of her face; her burgundy-brown hair dripping with some bio-fluid or another. She immediately bent down and picked up a long metal bar with a vaguely crescent shape on the end. She couldn't have named the object or its function, but based on its weight she reasoned that it could be used as an impromptu weapon, which was exactly her intention should things prove to be dangerous for her here. Looking around at what "here" entailed, Aria showed the usual minimal emotion in her eyes. Then she sighed, a sound that was unnatural and almost robotic coming from her.

"What in the ass-fuck of hells am I doing in this dump?"

Walking stiffly and tentatively, Aria began searching for an exit.

Omega had been down in the Cargo bay, dealing with opening some of the suspicious containers. He'd found some medical supplies, some clothes, someone's diary and a lot of junk... but nothing overtly useful. The medical supplies were a bit too 'high end' to work with what he had in stock, but he'd hang onto them just in case... and he was already starting to tear up the white shirts to make bandages when the lid came flying off the container that had been near him. To say he was surprised would be an understatement.
Omega flew out of his crouch, grabbing the stethoscope around his neck as if he were going to swing it at someone, before he realized that standing before him was a very confused, very angry, very unstable, and possibly very about-to-kill-him young woman. He slung his stethoscope back around his neck, and put up both hands to show he was unarmed.

"Relax! Relax! No one's going to hurt you. My name is Omega, and this hunk of space-junk is The Vera. She's not going to hurt you either. Relax! Put down the wrench?" He raised the volume of his voice after another couple moments. "JAAACK! GET YOUR ASS DOWN HERE! PRONTO!"

And now back to the 'calming doctor's influencing voice'. "Just... settle down. Jack's the captain here. But he's not going to hurt you either. He might be tempted to, if you were to hit me with that wrench, though. My name is Omega, and I'm a doctor - See?"

He held up the stethoscope slightly so she could see. "No weapons, just tools of the trade. What's your name?"

Jack came running, stumbling a bit as his prosthetic knee gave way under the sudden stress. Righting himself, he whistled as he took in what was in front of him. He fought back a chuckle at the spectacle, trying not to laugh as he fumbled for the pistol at his side.

"You know Omega, I've seen a few movies that started out like this. Didn't peg you for the type."

He looked back and forth between Omega and the woman, not really sure if he should raise his pistol. Throwing caution to the wind, he snapped it back in to its holster before closing the distance between the two. He stammered over a few words as he tried to size her up.

"Name's Jack. Yep...Jack. Guess you knew that by now."

He strained to keep his eyes at hers, sliding towards Omega and whispering in his ear.

"You lucky bastard. Last time I opened anything with a prize inside it was a cereal box. I got a sticker."

The sudden movement and voice of the rainbow-headed man was unexpected and registered milliseconds later than it should have in Aria's mind. She blinked several times and wondered if she had been drugged or was simply still shaking off the effects of cryogenic transport. She'd had little experience translating emotion or intent in the words of others, but it was obvious that she was being treated as a threat. That was all very well. She was perhaps the greatest threat these men had ever seen.

"...'Space vessels are uniquely different from sea transportation in that their names do not start with 'the'.'" Her words were as stiff as her limbs, and she glanced around with the intensity and curiosity of a feline. "'In a craft where men must survive for months or years at a time, being on a first-name basis with their home encourages familiarity and comfort.'" Her gaze settled on each of the men in turn.

"Vera." She shook her head in disapproval, whether at the ship or the two men or at her predicament in general. "Have I been sold to this crew? I think you should know, your pieces of imaginary currency have been wasted. I am going elsewhere, and it would be disastrously stupid of either of you to try to stop me."

Omega quirked his mouth into a smirk as the implications of the fact that he referred to the ship as 'The' sank in. Well, he really DIDN'T like girls all that much, did he? Even if they were ships.

"Yes, well... Manners and all that." he said. "At any rate... If you could PLEASE put that wrench down, I'm sure we can talk some more..."

He was making his way around behind the girl, now that her attention was on Jack. He was going for his set of supplies that he'd left on the stairwell. The extra bandages were there, and his medication for Jack... but there was also a pre-filled syringe of sedative - if he could just get her attention distracted enough to sneak up behind her....

Snagging the syringe, he motioned to Jack to keep her busy and concentrated on HIM, so that Omega could sneak up in as stealthy a manner as possible.

In the brief silence of the man who identified himself as the captain, Aria was able to see, out of the corner of her eye, the small object in the doctor's hand. She whipped around, lunged, and smacked the syringe from his fingers with the crescent-shaped tool. She gritted her teeth in frustration. Her motions were slower than usual, and she wasn't exactly fast or strong to begin with.

"Stupid man! Did you think I would not expect needles from a doctor?" Her words were louder than they had been until then. "Doctors! You are a pack of hypocrites. You whispers lies to calm your victims before sticking metal into their flesh!"

Aria's vision went white then, and her eyes rolled momentarily back into her head. She stumbled, but managed to stay standing. The wrench fell from her grasp and clattered to the ground. If she tried to retrieve it she would surely not be able to stand back up. Her breathing became heavy through her mask. One syllable left her lips when she attempted to speak, but it was silenced by the sound of a gun cocking and whirring to charge its laser.

"Gentlemen." Julius stood at the entrance to the cargo bay with four men flanking him on either side. They all held identical rifles, three of which were pointed in their direction. "I thought I'd misplaced some cargo, and it seems I was right. Thank you kindly for finding it for me."

Jack's eyebrows shot up at the arrival of Julius and his men. Plastering his face with an artificial smile, he feigned relief at seeing the armed group.

"No problem at all Jules, no problem. Was checking the goods and found one that wasn't on my receipt. You know I wouldn't lift what wasn't mine."

He stepped a few paces forward, raising his hands to show that he wasn't hiding anything. If anything, he would have to keep them distracted.

"Tell you what, Jules. You train your rifles off my pretty little face, and I'll walk your little princess here off my ship. You got business that I have no business sticking my nose in, and I respect that. No need for blood."

He desperately tried to search his mind for an excuse. Anything to get them off his ship. Anything to set them on solid ground so he could close the bay doors and just lock them out. From there it was just a matter of lifting off before they could cut their way back in.

Of course, the many prosthetic limbs and implants that kept him going were a testament to just how many of his ideas had never worked.

"'Long as you've got your pistol still on you, captain, I'm going to have to insist that we keep you in check. Now if you wouldn't mind herding the girl back into her box, we can finish our repairs -" He waved to a mechanic at his left side who held up their catalyzer, most likely rummaged from the engine while they had been busy with Aria, "- and you can be on your way. And I would suggest that you tell her to put her gloves back on before you do that."

While they had been talking Aria had slipped off her gloves and let them drop to the floor. The white suit underneath covered everything but her fingers, but that was all she needed. As far as she was concerned, every man around her at that moment was her enemy. "This deformed fool does not intend to let you leave here alive. I hope you are astute enough to realize this." She shot a look at Jack that clearly said she doubted he was.

Julius neither confirmed nor denied her comment, only waved the gun in her direction. "In the box, darlin'."

"Fuck you." Aria reached down to pick up the crescent wrench again, her knees shaking as she did so. As expected, the men held their fire. They needed her alive.

"Easy, easy!"

Jack hobbled quickly towards the men, making a mental note to never shop with Julius again. He had wanted to get off this rock a good hour ago, and chances were starting to look like he might die here. The servos in his knee began to whine due to the stress.

"Look, can we just put the guns down? Can't we all just be rational and reasonable? Can't we settle this like nor-"

He was cut off in mid sentence as his knee gave out, putting him in a fall to the floor. As he fell he drew his pistol, shooting wildly at the group before he crumpled behind a pair of steel crates. Whatever slim chance he had of escaping unscathed was surely gone now.

Creeeeaaaak.

"...Well," Liam started, glaring down at the traitorous floorboards beneath his right foot. "I had been hoping to board this ship with less of a ruckus than I got off the last one. Seems like that's not going to happen," he added hastily, glancing up at the rifle-bearing man who was now staring at him from less than eight feet away.

"Erm...I..." He trailed off, awkwardly loading a gun behind his back while plastering a huge grin onto his slightly-devoid-of-color face.

Then another idea occurred to him, and he suddenly lunged forward two steps, drawing a rapier from his belt and thrusting it forward.

Jack leaned out from his shelter of boxes, sizing up the situation before pistol fire forced him back.

"Wait, who as that?"

He leaned back out again just in time to see a blonde youth run one of his assailants through with a rapier. He cheered, raising a prosthetic fist in the air. He only had a moment before the hand was blown away by pistol fire, forcing him to take cover once again. He cursed himself inwardly for being so stupid. Hands could be replaced. Crew hands could not.

"Is it crew hands?" he thought, "Is that what they're called? it makes sense but sounds so odd."

He crawled towards the other side of the now bullet-beaten crate he was hiding behind, firing at Julius and his men with his one good hand. Servo motors and mech fluids trailed from the stump that had been his other hand, making it appear that he was bleeding profusely.

The sound of gunfire did little to faze Aria, other than the inexplicable ringing in her ears. She ignored it and ran forward. Wrench in hand, she held her arm out to the side and aimed for the face of the man holding the engine's catalyzer. The momentum from her running and the weight of the large tool did all the work of knocking in the guy's teeth and dropping him heavily to the ground.

One of the men turned his gun on Aria as she picked up the engine piece, but was stopped by Julius shouting, "Don't! You'll get her blood everywhere!"

Aria grimaced under her mask. It was supposed to be a grin, but her face was still somewhat limited as far as expressions, and she didn't put much stock into smiling anyway. While the man with the gun was torn between obeying his boss and avenging his fallen brother, Aria lashed one hand toward him... and jabbed him in the eyeballs.

Contact with skin worked fine, but orifices worked more quickly.

The man screamed - at first, he must have thought, from the pain of being poked in the eyes - but then because something else had entered his body and was working its way through, bent on eating him from the inside out. Aria didn't stop to watch the process, but she could hear the screams as she ran deeper into the ship.

Mind blown by both the fluids dripping from the man's arm (What?! He doesn't seem to be bothered by that at all!) and the sudden violence from the girl (I hope Omega isn't acquainted with her...), Liam had accidentally let go of the rapier, which was yanked out of his hand as the body he'd stuck it through fell forward.

With little coordination and far less thinking, he spun around at the sound of footsteps behind him and instinctively pulled the trigger on his finally-loaded gun.

Half a second later, one of Julius's men toppled over backwards, his face blown apart by grapeshot. That was...less preferable, but I suppose it got the job done. At least he seemed to have a better chance at having living employers now. Seeing that the rest of the men seemed to be more concerned with the man with the prosthetic arm, Liam crept forward and started to dislodge his rapier from the corpse's ribcage.

...Omega better pay me double for this.

Jack kept firing wildly from his cover, trying to shout to this odd newcomer over the screams.

"If you kill them, I'll pay you!"

Thinking he could worry about the hole in his pocketbook if he didn't have the same in his head, he kept shouting as he returned to cover.

"You could work for me! Seeing the galaxy! Meeting new people. You could be happy here! And your own room. Lots of rooms. Get a cut of every job we take!"

He leaned back around, firing off a salvo of shots at the last antagonist. He eyed the newcomer again as he shot, looking more for a response it seemed than actually wanting to hit his intended target.