Salvage

Discussion in 'ROLEPLAY GRAVEYARD' started by Iris the Many-Eyed, Dec 29, 2014.

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  1. Some Info! (open)

    [[Before I give this a go, hey! First try at an RP here. The setting is a fairly open sci-fi/horror setting, though kind of on the lower tech side of things. Think the Alien movies, or the recent Alien: Isolation. Kinda clunky technology, no fancy laser weapons or anything. Beyond humans and alien wildlife, humans are the only intelligent life (that we know of). We're playing a salvaging crew, currently out on a mission to recover the flight recorder and research data from a derelict research vessel in orbit of a possibly habitable planet. All characters should be above 18 and somewhat experienced in their line of work. Shoot me a PM if you're wondering what kind of role you could fill on the ship. Of note, a few military personnel were sent with the crew in case of any danger.

    Our vessel is a kinda small one, similar to the Nostromo (mostly do to lack of creativity on my part, though I wasn't going to feature any Xenomorphs!), and we're approaching a much larger ship.]]


    Lauren leaned back in her captain's chair, twisting her chair side to side ever so slightly as she crossed her hands in front of her mouth. Her eyes focused on the display in front of her, a radar showing their approach to the UCS (United Colonial Ship) Roanoke, and the massive green blip that their much tinier green blip was approaching. Lauren didn't know much Old Earth history, but she did know that with a name like that they were asking for trouble... Then again, everything about this mission seemed to be "asking for trouble". Ever since being assigned to the job Lauren had felt something was off. Not enough info on what was being researched, the Roanoke having been unknown to her and her crew before the mission, the Marines that they sent with them. It all seemed so wrong. She frowned deeper, and shook her head as she spun her chair around.

    Lauren sighed and scratched her head, pulling her fingers through her black dreadlocks. She kept them tied back, kind of fanning out behind her head. It was a haircut probably more suited to a pirate, but for a salvage crew leader on the edge of Colonial space it wasn't that out of place. Her skin was dark, showing off her ancestry from Africa of Old Earth, and her eyes brown. She had a stern look, a good look for a captain who often had to boss around the less cooperative sorts that often ended up on salvage crews. Still, she tried her best to show compassion to her crew... Even if her own unique way. She stood up from the chair and walked across the bridge and into the halls of the ship, boots tapping against the metal flooring and arms crossed behind her back. She furrowed her brow and frowned even deeper, thinking of what she knew of the mission, wondering if anything had gotten past her in the initial briefings that might shed a little more light on the coming endeavor.
     
  2. Khan tried to ignore the unpleasant hiss of the cluttered machinery as he made his way through the lower levels of the little salvage vessel, inspecting all the tiny cogs and bolts that kept the damn thing running. He was sick of this place; before now, he had scarcely spent more than two weeks on any one vessel, much less the month or so he'd been on this thing. Well, the pay was good, and the rest of the crew were nice enough. The captain was.....interesting? He hadn't seen her much down in these levels. Being an assistant engineer didn't hold much glamor, though that was just the job description; Khan was more of an impromptu chaplain around here.

    He tapped the last of the engine blocks, seemed they were all in working order. So far, he didn't really need to do much, these things were pretty sturdy, and chances were he probably couldn't do much in the event of a failure......but he was gonna keep that knowledge to himself. With a glance at the machinery, Khan took a turn out of the engine room, attempting to get the grease out of his black hair. He pulled a little steel mirror he'd kept out of his pocket, using it to try and find the places where the grime was worst. His icy blue eyes stared back at him as he scratched the gunk off his face, his oriental heritage easily showing in the orbs. Khan would probably have to do something about the ship sooner or later, but right then, a drink would be great.
     
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