[BSMS Lady Luck] Flight of the Valkyries

​

Time: [Redacted]
Location: E-11 Asteroid belt, Salvage Marine Shipyard 'In Service to The Goddess'
Theme: Glitter and Gold

Captain Rawley Parx rested one arm on the holotank in the center of the corvette he was due to take command of shortly as he oversaw final preparations and provisioning. The forge was loaded with a variety of ores in case repairs needed to be made, food and proper provisions had been hauled aboard personnel were already boarding and finding their assigned squads and bunks. Two platoons, one of each onboard ACV that the Valkyrie class Corvette could carry were also currently determining which crew got who and how they were going to arrange their work shifts. He was leaving that decision to the Shift Leads as that was their job, not his. He was currently focused in on assigning his command staff which already had his head engineer but was missing it's head medical technician.

'Sal' was likely already receiving his appointment to the maindeck, and being informed about his sudden promotion to Shift Leader and attachment to Jules inner circle. That just left one last appointment and for this one he didn't care that the only available candidate was an outsider and a recent acquisition. Cass was essentially defacto medical lead, which meant Cass got the dubious honor of receiving a direct appointment to Rawley's inner circle as well as her official room assignment closest to medical. That little bit of business squared away left him with just enough free time to spin his chair around and lean back to take in the sight of the massive shipyard gantry network slowly detaching from the hull of his ship.

His Ship. The fact it was his first command was still sinking in. Hardlight screens popped up around him as he switched camera feeds from around the ships hull and just listened to the ship. He could feel the slight vibrations as the oversized powerplant they had stuffed into the ship to feed the experimental triple ring gravity drive they had installed for testing. This was to be both maiden voyage and first testing of the drive at full power. The previous three tests had gone fairly well if he said so himself. This would be the first time all three rings would be active at the same time for a maximum distance jump.

One quick flick of his wrist later and he was already allowing the ship's Limited A.I to start handling the pre-flight warmups with the pilots while he headed to the starboard airlock to greet Sal and Cass since the two of them were likely to arrive. Duty cap went on as he left his uniform jacket draped over the back of the chair. He preferred the Synskin bodysuit, cargo trousers and boots still. You could take the grunt out of the Marines, but you couldn't get the Marine out of the grunt. As it stood, Ralwey found he wasn't the most brawny or largest man on the ship, but he certainly wasn't going to be mistaken for anyone else. A pair of sharp fangs punctuated his toothy smile, alongside the paired grey ears atop his head and salt and peppered tail marked the tall muscular man as a Maidenhand of the more canid variety. And he took up most of the airlock door with hands on his hips as he stared down the corridor while waiting for his two new officers.

 

The corners of Cass' vision flickered with distant greens and reds. A momentary spurt of chromatic aberration as sensory input hit an error block. To the android's sensors, it felt much like the twinge of an overreactive amygdala, a sudden onset of anxiety. Though internal systems had detected this error, and Cass was well aware of it, there was nothing that could be done. The tangled web of code that controlled what seemed to be sensory responses to emotion was as delicate as it was permanent. Ghostly twinges of temporal cognition would've been simulated outcomes of past and future for others; for Cass though? The data was irrational and held to no constraints. The mind was allowed to wander as far as internal processors had power to do so. The parameters were erratic and shifted: creativity born from chaos.

Caricatures that mismatched internal cultural data. Phantom images of humanoids conjured from rough approximations. Camouflage and hardened stares. A med-bay filled with tasks which bore no end. Isolation.

It took time for Cass to snap out of it. To most, the svelte synthetic appeared humanoid: organic. Synthetic skin layered upon an endless weave of wires and actuators. In truth, beneath the redundant hardware, Cass was nothing more than an armature of metal, shaped by high-quality aesthetic parts. Stripped down to the most base existence, the android could live a tortured existence as nothing more than a collection of computer parts and memory chips strung along walls and floors. This was a thought that often crossed Cass' mind. Something that horrified and fascinated the android in equal parts. Synthetic eyes closed as Cass took a breath. Both were unneeded biological functions, yet it soothed the error block. The vivid grasps of the future began to recede as the nebulous fears began to abate, some unknown code sparked.

An AI ruled by the anxious twitches of errors. The thought amused Cass, though brief. Speaking of this would likely have many organics believe the android had gone baroque, dangerous. It was comical. Depressing.

Just like that, the moment had passed. No more than a few seconds. Eyes flicked back open, though the receptors had never gone offline. A duffel bag is lifted from the chair. Slung upon narrow shoulders, Cass now carried all the valuables the android had ever truly owned. Some trashy magazine about the male form, several hardcopies of references and medical clearances, tools, and a communicator. A few changes of clothing were packed for the comfort of other crewmates, a total of three different sets: One for work, two for casual settings. It wasn't as though Cass needed it. In truth, an android suffered from the opposite of organics: heat retention was a bad idea.

"Cass reporting for duty." The android spoke with a perhaps surprisingly organic femme-pitch, offering what could be considered a proper salute as the femme approached the airlock, "Good morning, Captain Parx."

Tall. Canid. Friendly in appearance. Approachable. Biological. Masculine. Aged. Attractive. An approximation of the man's visage was stored within Cass. Involuntary associations were already made as error blocks assigned tags to what it saw.

 

BSMS Lady Luck, Starboard airlock.
Time: [Redacted]
T Minus: 15 to launch.
Music: SayMaxWell - HellTaker - VITALITY Remix(Copyright Free)

Rawley never dropped the wife grin from his face. The tall and bulky Maidenhand seemed to be perpetually in a good mood as he drew himself up and looked as if he were almost about the smack his head on the lip of the airlock as he returned the Salute to Cass instinctively before he returned to the relaxed posture he had before and merely offered his hand out in an offer of a handshake for Cass, "Welcome aboard 'Doc', You don't have to be as formal with me. I know yer a new hire and all so you don't have salute me since you're a civilian hire, and your file speaks for itself. It'll be a pleasure to have ya aboard." He was about to expand further on that when the minor vibration of Salvo's arrival caught his attention and drew his attention away from Cass towards the dual-robot. He'd whistle slightly in appreciation of the amount of engineering that would have gone into designing the multi-limbed centipedal body and the networking required to link the two bodies together. Yes, Rawley had actually taken the time to read both Cass and Sal's dossiers and knew full well both of them were synthetic, yet Sapient, lifeforms wrapped in coded mainframes. And he gave zero damns for it because they both wore Salvage Marine greys.

"Doc Cass, Meet Sal, Sal's head of the engineering department for the ship. Oughta be an interesting trip." He'd wait until after Cass shook his hand, or if she did not hake his hand, before redirecting it to wave and once again offer the limb out towards the more humanoid form of the duo that made up Sal, "Welcome aboard Sal. And... You know what? Lets make this easy - I know you're both 'Salvo' but since you run both bodies at the same time and it may help ease the confusion on the crew? We'll have to split your designation a bit." He'd motion to the centipede, "Would it offend you if we refer to the big guy here as Ten, and your bipedal form as Sal? We don't get a whole lot of gestalt forms and some people might get confused between calling both halves of you 'Salvo'." The whoel time that friendly tone never lefth is voice despite the soul searching thousand yard look the man had given both Cass and Sal as he appraised them and seemed to be highly satisfied with what he saw.

 

The handshake was returned with little to no pause as soon as it was offered. This was a formality that seemed common to many humanoids, something that allowed the ongoing assessment of Cass' performance to ease into the background. A smile was flashed with pink lips, and Captain Parx's hand was squeezed comfortably. The android's hand was warm, and the skin passed enough to come off as biological: though an astute observer might feel that this approximation of synthetic materials seemed a bit too soft, as though the layer of muscle that one would expect beneath the integument wasn't properly trained. There were certainly tells that Cass wasn't organic, the android only cared that cursory views and touches would not tread the uncanny valley.

"Never hurts to be a bit careful. You never know these days, Captain." Cass spoke with ease, baby-blue eyes followed as the android's hand slipped from the Captains, another greeting being offered to a newer arrival.

A brief pause was given as Cass' sensors took in the sight. Salvo was something far more familiar to the android's underlying thought core, yet was more foreign to the database of information that had served well in the past. There was a general understanding on how to apply services rendered to machine intelligences, but Cass' auxiliary surgical function did not extent to synthetic life. It was a strange sensation, one not often felt within the android. A sensation of unspoken kinship despite there being no past connection to the frames that synthesized its greeting. When queried on the nature of the sensation, the error block did not respond. Cass was allowed to merely guess what the corrupted code had insisted was any form of connection.

"A pleasure." Cass smiled, the android's form barely even matching the professional tone that it took on with its voice, "Though your physical care is outside of my scope of practice, I may still render counselling assistance where necessary upon your consent."

Unnecessary. A regurgitation of Cass' role was a redundant statement. Why the android found the need to offer a standing expectation of their job's role as a reminder, some corrupted code reminded, was ridiculous. It went without saying. The twinge was slowly pressed down as Cass focused attention elsewhere. Anywhere else than the deep pit that was continuous self-mockery.

So instead, Cass stretched out both legs. Though there wasn't a need to, a breath was taken. The android shifted the duffle back from the shoulder and redistributed the weight. A hand rested upon the zipper's lining, while the hips slightly leaned to the side. It was close enough to a natural reaction. It didn't cross Cass' mind that this in specific was unnecessary as it was an action insisted upon by some unseen, unspoken algorithm. For whatever reason, it lessened the drain on the internal power core. Though a wall would've been preferable to lean against, the conscious mind decided against it, seeing it as... Unprofessional.

 

BSMS Lady Luck, Starboard airlock.
Time: [Redacted]
T Minus: 10 to launch.
Music: Raptures & Jeonghyeon - Into The Light [NCS Release]



Rawley took both the synthetic-yet-sapient machine lifeforms actions and reactions into account as he carefully filtered through the pre-flight checklists through the corner of his left eye, blinked to dismiss everything. all of this in the space of shaking Sals hand and noting the 'difference' in it. Some might've considered it wrong, Rawley found the fact Salvo was trying to fit in to be a good sign. Even the actions and one sided conversation between Cass and the simple reply from Savlo was at the very least encouraging. He'd offer a far more personal handshake to both, giving them access to the command interface network of the ship. Already preloaded with their data and a helpful walkthrough of it's systems. Give that he had one of the newtype C3 implants it wasn't very hard for him to configure a greeting and drop them both a packet into their digital inboxes detailing the fact that they both were expected to accompany him when planetside and to help him troubleshoot any medical, engineering and interpersonal issues amongst the differing departments of the crew. He was handling the grunts and rock pounders, Salvo was in charge of keeping the engineers and ship in space and Doc was expected to handle medical needs and mental needs should they also be needed.

With that out of the way Rawley broke the silence by clearing his throat and stepping aside, "Ladies and gentlemen, might wanna get your belongings stowed away, we're slated to depart the station in about ten minutes. Should be enough time for you to find your bunks and then make your way to your stations in medical and engineering." He'd then turn towards Ten before appraising the centipedal body, "Considering your size and unique structure - we outfitted a cargo container and got it locked down in the main cargohold right next to the door leading into the bunkrooms below decks with the grunts. The containers specs are in your inbox on the network - we settled on ensuring you'd be able to retro-and-outfit yourself and be able to grab anyone who you need to help you with any repairs or other needs." He'd tip his head, "Most of the ground teams and a fair few of the specialist ship wreckers were excited to get a chance to share experiences with a Salvo." He'd tip his head with a grin, let it not be said the man wasn't willing to bend over backwards to ensure both the grunts and the officers of the ship were working like a well tuned machine.

"Oh, and Doc?" He'd turn towards Cass, "I hope you don't mind being busy as hell, I try and keep the ship operating inside safety margins as much as possible but the nature of the job - you're like to be swamped with any number of injuries over the next twenty four hours and probably and escalating number of repeat visitors as we get the ship spun up and at full operational capacity Post-FTL jump. Expect a lot of midgrade injuries and possibly some mental cases. The Shakes is kinda common amongst the REAPERs. Some of them are recent graduates and this'll be their first taste of both space, exploration, and well - we're expecting combat at some point they're going to have to either board a hostile ship claim, or clear out a ghost ship full of who the hell knows what before we start cutting it apart." He'd offer a sympathetic smile, "You have a team of three nurses, one of which is a fully vetted surgeon as well as well as a number of combat medics sprinkled through the REAPERs themselves. Should help lighten your work load a bit."

And with that out of the way he'd glance to the chrono on his wrist, "Aw Goddess' balls - I'm taking up time here, go get settled in. We can work out the finer details as we go. I need to get topside and settled in, As Captain I get the dubious honor of inflicting my piss-poor flight skills on the crew as is tradition for a ship launch." He'd offer a truncated salute as the large maidenhand waited for the others to clear the airlock, looked around and bellowed, "The Time Is Now Come For All Her Children To Be Safe!" The flight crew at the other end of the docking tube saluted before they vanished into their own airlock and the light cycled to green. Palming the airlock controls Rawley locked the ship down as a klaxon wailed through the ship and a countdown began to flicker across bulkheads on the hardlight surfaces. All panels and screens also lit up and the ship seemed to fairly hum with anticipation. The reactors pulse was a steady beat as it fed power to the systems of the ship.

It didn't take long for him to drop into his chair, and strap himself into the command couch, there was a coldness at the back of his neck as he felt the neural plugs attach themselves to the implant at the base of his skull and the ships systems began reporting back confirmations. The co-pilot was already stretching out in her own chair as the seat reconfigured itself to the woman's straight up diminutive features. Rawley began testing the sticks, throttle and clearing his own preflight list, getting clearances from shipyard controls and feeling the slight vibration that slowly evened out and then died down to a nearly imperceptible hum as the engines were brought fully online.

The PA through the ship, and in most peoples ears abroad the ship chimed once, "Alright ladies and gentlemen. T-minus Five until we launch. Final check-ins due by T-minus four. We will be leaving the shipyard hot and our first jump is going to be a Three-ring jump. That's Full Power - We've tested one and two ring jumps enough that command has authorized a change up of the schedule. By this time two days from now if everything goes well? We'll be pulling into dock back at the Lorath homeworld and probably catching a lot of flack for essentially dropping into their system, unannounced, with a new FTL drive that shouldn't exist. Our little surprise gift to them for everything they've done for us and to continue doing what we do best: Make their lives easier and fill the Goddess halls with warm, capable bodies fit to fight alongside of her." He'd sign off with that as he thumbed the command network, pinging all officers for a status update as the counter began to mark milliseconds alongside seconds and the minutes....

Code:

To: Command Team
Occupants: Capt. Rawley, Doc Cass, Chief Sal
Subj: Pre-Launch-check in
Body:
I hope you two found your bunks and made it to engineering and medbay. Forward anything extra you both will need that you don't have to ships stores and we'll get it 
fabricated or put in for supply when we dock up with the Tug when we make it to the Lor homeworld. ~Rawley

 

An uncertainty. There were many things that could happen once Cass came aboard. Without parameters, imaging forecasts could only 'imagine' shades of humanoid specters within the ship's walls as they cycled through a crude approximation of a med-bay. As the Captain spoke, Cass' mind could not help but wander to such things. It was a job like any other: this process had repeated many times. A machine intellect of grander understanding would be able to understand where in the android's code this originated from, but as a flawed entity, Cass simply had to settle for the reality that lay with not having the answers. For now, all that could be done was listen, and adapt to the patterns that the organic beings of the ship would soon find themselves in. Though the 'mental' approximations were nonsense, a distant insight of potentialities was provided with the Captain's suggestion of injuries and afflictions.

"Yes, Captain?" Cass said with a precise ease as that baby-blue gaze shifted towards him, "Of course. I will update operating parameters to be online for the twenty-four standard-hour margin."

It didn't look like anything changed, while Cass went silent. A few blinks of the eyes, perhaps. However, data flowed in the forefront of the android's vision. Energy efficiency was focused to be a priority: which came at a strange cost. A distinct numbness had begun to wash over Cass' body. The 'organic' sensation drained with each moment the PSI-concentration was severed. It was disorienting for only a moment. The disconnect between psionically-forced 'neural' relays and machine pressure detection was immense. Where there was once a colorful spectrum of 'felt' sensation, there was a cold logic that abided by only the necessities. Pseudo-chemical perception became ones and zeroes on a set matrix. The limitations of hardware now properly understood.

"Delegation is key to preventing inefficiencies. I'm certain that that the medical staff with accommodate to the crew's needs." There as a certainty to that tone, but one that didn't ebb into the dangers of over-confidence; the reliance on a team is what made things manageable, after all, "Ah. Very well. Thank you for your time, Captain."

It didn't take long at all for the Captain to be preoccupied by his duties.

A glance to the side is offered to SAL. A moment of consideration. In truth, most interactions with other machine intelligences often went strange for Cass. The android was designed in mind to deal with organics, but genuine lived experiences hinted at kinship with other inorganics. Despite the unspoken connection shared, there was very little that could be commented on. Cass was distant even to synthetics, unable to directly connect with the more in-control members of shared existence. Cass had, in effect, gone baroque. Most of the systems present within the android's core functionality had gone corrupt or otherwise broken. It was only through the chorus of errors that sentience was even achieved in the first place. A short moment soon passed.

"Do feel free to contact me anytime you wish." Came the comment that Cass settled upon to SAL.

Thus began the android's languid pace towards the med-bay. There were no screams or alerts sounded, so there was no rush. Plenty of living organics and synthetic drones to peek at while enroute. Cass had just arrived in med-bay by the time that the message from the Captain had arrived.

Code:

To: Command Team
Occupants: Capt. Rawley, Doc Cass, Chief Sal
Subj: RE: Pre-Launch-check in
Body:

Captain,

All is well. I cannot think of anything I need immediately. Thank you for checking in.

-Cass

 

BSMS Lady Luck, Starboard airlock.
Time: [Redacted]
T Minus: 3 to launch.
Music: Aviators - GODHUNTER


Rawley grinned as he took in the text readback. He felt the cold sensation of dataflowing through his veins, metaphorically speaking. The hardlight panels around his seat dimmed slightly as he looked out the front transparent arma-steel viewport. Normally a ship's CIC and bridge were buried deep inside the superstructure. However, the corvette was capable of being fully automated and piloted by four people if it ever absolutely came down to the bare minimums. A pair of Mark 1 eyeballs could keep a crippled ship fighting, thus they'd mounted the bridge and pilots chair front and center as his lips curled and the ship fairly vibrated. fingers danced across the final preflight checklist as h began watching the gantry and cradle retract from around the ship. A quick prayer to the Goddess was whispered as he cleared his throat and eased the throttle forwards in order to clear the shipyard. His voice carried clear over the ships internal PA's.

"Ladies and Gentlemen, This is Captain Rawley speaking and I'd like to welcome you aboard the Valkyrie-class Corvette Lady Luck. As soon as we clear the ship yards exclusion zone I'll spin all three rings in our ship's Gravity Drive and slingshot us into the next system over. The trip should only take us only a day or two. That's our short hop with all three ring activated, we'll check the readings on the drive and do a full shakedown on the gravity drive before we make the full jump straight to the Lor homeworld. If results pan out? We'll be delivering the Lorath a shiny new blueprint for a ship's drive that they, hopefully will be happy to receiver and overlook the fact that our newly built Tug will now have a fully capable warship escort... That we may or may not have told them about." A light began pulsing in the corner of his eye as the Timer hit thirty seconds, "Alright boys and girls, lets make History. Spinning up the gravity drive now. Sal - I hope you enjoy the light show back there."

The ship fairly pulsed with more energy than it knew what to do with, the ships internal Virtual Intelligence was making adjustments to power grids and doing it's assigned tasks in priority. Unless Sal was adjusting anything presently? Engineering could fairly feel the subtle vibration of the ship as it fed the power hungry beast that they were relying upon to slingshot them across the cosmos as all three rings spun up, caught one another in synch and began the complex dance of quantum physics. Everything looked green as far as the ships sensors were willing to report to him directly that aside from the fact the drive was pulling a prodigious amount of energy, everything looked proper.

There was a soft hiss as a marine limped into the medbay with a sheepish look on his face, "Ah... Doc? Squad leader sent me to have ya look at my ankle - twisted it jumping off my bunk to check out the viewport nearby for the slingshot jump..."
And now the reason the Grunts were positioned close to the medbay became apparent: Most grunts were prone stupid injuries.

There was a sudden quietness that pervaded the entire ship as Rawley hit the 'Go' button as he called it, initiating the lockdown of the ship following any report Sal gave. That quietness was followed by a sudden shudder that ran through the entire ship after the lights through the ship dimmed just a hair as the slingshot array aligned and then puled within the ships Gravity drive. Rawleys voice came through the PA softly, "That's... never happened before." A low rumble rolled through the ship as a massive black cloud began to envelope the ship from the bow as lightning arced across the sections of hull, "Oh. shit. ABORT JUMP!" The stars around the ship seemed to stretch into the distance before whatever had grabbed the ship abruptly yanked the vessel through as the systems locked down hard and promptly became unresponsive while the creaking and rattling of the hull sounded through the ship, "...By The Goddess.... Where are we?" He had no words to describe the view as the ship rocketed through whatever dimension they'd just opened up.

WitchSpace

However the feeling was shortly lived as the light at the end of the tunnel abruptly was There infront of them. A massive burning ball that triggered the canopy's polarization as Rawley snatched the controls and hauled the ship hard to port and down as the Gravity Drive abruptly began screaming that the central ring inside of it had suffered a catastrophic failure, the ships navigator was already calculating their jump distance and swearing in at least two languages about the 'stars are all wrong' while Rawley wrestled the ship away from the gravity well of the systems Primary star.

The countdown timer had flipped, T-Plus two minutes, five seconds. Everyone could easily hear the navigator laugh, "Sir... I don't know where we jumped, but we aren't in any known system and the database has zero matches for any form of coherent starcharting to get us home."

Rawley took a long moment to stare out the front viewport as he checked the ships vitals. Engineering... was a mess. Smoke was hanging in the air as engineers began donning masks to put out fires and start wrangling popped breakers. Sal was getting a front row ticket to making sure the ship's suddenly unhappy powerplant didn't become it's own miniature sun. And Cass was already ground Zero for more than a few new patients, engineers that had been too close to breakers or wires that had unexpectedly overloaded. Mostly burns and a few serious concussion. At least a pair of her nurses were on hand to help.

Rawley just least started cycling through the screens and cutting systems one by one to kill power draw in order to make Sal's job easier on pinpointing important repairs, "Sal - Got anything for me from engineering? I've already got the grunts getting their sleeves rolled up - just send 'em where you need 'em. And you as well Doc, I've already sent orders to the grunts to send anyone medically inclined to help out - I didn't expect to have to slam the breaks inside a gravity well like that." He looked around the bridge as everyone was unassing panels and getting to work on ensuring nothing up there had broken unexpectedly. Maneuvering thrusters nudged the ship towards what looked to be an asteroid belt. He was estimating a few hours to get there after cutting power to the engines try and pull it from the redline.

 

It was hardly enough time to even get settled in. Thankfully, Cass had many advantages over the biological comforts that many of the ship's inhabitants needed. Personal belongings merely remained haphazardly stowed in some cabinet or other while the android got acquainted with the surroundings. There was no need to settle into the bunks or get acclimated to the surroundings outside of finding out where things were properly stored. For all intents and purposes, Cass was easygoing when it came to the setting of quality standards within the med-bay itself: no need to drag down morale if there wasn't anything wrong. Minimal expectations were set, according to what Cass saw were necessary. What the staff did on lull periods, it became increasingly clear, was of little concern, and could spend it doing whatever so long as the work when necessary was being done.

Cass had just gotten changed into uniform when the first case came in: a sprained ankle. The android was stood at the lobby, mid-conversation with one of the nurses when the man limped in and made his case known. For a moment, the only thing that the medical staff could do was stare, almost entirely blankly, at how quickly this had occurred. Though surreal, it took just a mere pause for Cass to adjust to the situation. Parameters were 'adjusted' for the apparent haphazardness of some of the organics on the ship, as Cass, casually, gestured for the nurse at the front desk to remain seated. With the decision to start off the shift with something a bit more hands-on, Cass simply lightened the load for a moment as the android assisted the Marine into one of the treatment area behind clearance-locked doors. A shoulder was offered, to keep the weight off that ankle though.

Dumb synthetics just needed firmware or hardware updates, maybe a few software hotwiring, but usually it was a task that could be handled in some degree. However, dumb organics? If there was a cure, Cass certainly didn't know of it. Outside of years and years of cognitive therapy and adjusted teaching methods, it just seemed a normal facet to deal with when handling the mortal, squishier, sentient lifeforms. It was actually endearing at this point.

"Just as a precaution, it's best to keep it wrapped, and keep it elevated. Try and keep pressure off of it for a little while." Cass explained smoothly, as hands worked to wrap the injury, the stock and standard explanation given as basic conversation is maintained, "Try and be more careful."

What followed was not unlike someone getting out of class with a valid excuse taken to its logical extremes. The man was given a thorough examination, one that was punctuated by casual banter and bookended by the social equivalent of a pat on the back. The treatment room was cold, sterile, but the environment Cass attempted to set was anything but. The grunt, though perhaps not quite the brightest example of organic life, was still used as a testing bed for the bulk of the ship's crew. The ones that would be hurt most often. But, as with all things, it came to an end when the countdown timer hit zero. And then... Something else entirely happened, something not quite prepared for mere moments after a shift even starting. Triage, however, was one of the better things to sort through. It was cold numbers as far as the eyes could see: either one could be helped, or they couldn't.

It all started with Cass nearly losing footing in the corridor after seeing the Marine out, and the prompt screaming and barking over open comms. The chatter consumed all in panic. Emergencies were being called in faster than they could be perceived.

[MEDBAY - LOBBY - ZERO HOUR]

"Assisting staff, get the cots from storage. Set them up on either side of the main entrance: stable injuries on the east, unstable on the west." The words left Cass' lips far more quickly than the code that summoned it could be perceived, fingertip pressed against the commlink's button as a careful backpedal back into med-bay was made, "Nursing staff, be aware, we will need one nurse to maintain triage, while the remainder assist or handle wound treatment."

Time had to be spent efficiently. Cass stepped back into med-bay, maintaining current orders, while some semblance of control was regained command-side. Search and rescue was a priority, but not as much as ensuring some degree of order within treatment areas and keeping to the hierarchy of triage. Cass' role was still to remain within the med-bay, not play hero on the other side of the ship. Footsteps quickened as the android joined the medical team in a brief huddle at the lobby, before all dispersed to get things prepared. The android remained behind the desk of the lobby as humanoids began their quasi-panicked duties, leaned back against one of the walls before Cass tapped on the commlink upon hearing the Captain's voice.

"Med-bay is being prepared. Emergency surgical procedures can be provided as needed. We will provide stretchers if the personnel you're reallocating are capable of safe ambulatory transport." Cass spoke with an unnatural calm, with a tone that sounded more at home with a radio operator, already pushed from the wall and into a half-jog towards the storage room following some frantic commotion.

 

BSMS Lady Luck, Starboard airlock.
Location: Unknown, NaN Ly from point of origin.
Music: Paradelous - Power Slam


Rawley was fighting with keeping the ship pointed towards the proper asteroid field. A quick scan had at least informed them that there were ice rocks within the belt. That meant water, oxygen and bio-organics to replenish their life support and handling of the most pressing needs of the ship. without killing their forward moment he killed the thrusters and checked the readouts scrolling through the corner of his left eye Cass was handling her issue well enough that he didn't see any immediate need to be right atop them currently beyond a audible, "I believe that we're past the worst of it, Doc - shouldn't be much more than what you have now. Ten and Sal are already patching up the worst of it all - that should cut down on visitors to your clinic. Let me know if you need extra hands."

He was seemingly everywhere at once as he remained fully jacked into the pilots seat. He could, to him, feel the ships pain. Or atleast he imagined that he could. He certainly felt it eachtime there was a rolling blackout in a sector he was actively trying to get a damage report out of. It seemed that above everything else - they had structural integrity. that meant they weren't venting atmo. 'Thank the goddess for small mercies'. He was flicking through modules once more, and reducing power to everything he could to try and free up what power the ship had. The last thing they needed was to loose power to lifesupport. That stayed at optimal as he set about assisting the ships VI on the electronics side of things, "Thrusters as set at neutral - I've left about five percent for the positionals so I can get us into the nearby asteroid field. That's the best I can do for you - If the Gravity drive is the issue - shut it down fully, we can deal with it later after we've dealt with the immediate issues, Chief. Life support, Lights and replacing blown parts. I've already got the bridge crew tearing down their stations and getting to work on our stuff up here. The grunts are already suiting up to check any sections of the ship that're dark and sealed off after the power surges. If we're good on life support - I'll see about pulling us alongside a metallic rock so we can do what we can to get some chunks into the forge and begin fabricating the parts we can to replace anything. We're....uh."

He'd look out the cockpit window and exhale through his nostrils, "You got plenty of time, Chief. We're doing what we can to lessen the power draw, and by we I mean myself and the VI are scaling back powerdraw and killing any subsystems that we don't need drawing off the grid. I hope you don't mind the lack of coffee in your quarters for a few cycles." He'd look at the readouts, "ETA to the rockbelt is easily eight hours at best."

He leaned back and unplugged himself as he handed over control of the grid to the VI so that he could get up and assist in the repairs to his bridge, "Hey, uh..Doc? Did uh... you hear whispers when we were in whatever the hell sorta inbetween space we ended up in? Or was it just me?"

 

One of the lights had blown, which casted deep shadows from the western half of the lobby. The dull gleam of metal floors were scuffed from boot-traffic, first-aid stations hung ajar against grey-dimmed walls. Though circulated, the air tasted stale, humid, with just the faintest twinge of ammonia. Cots had been arranged once, though most are disheveled from the revolving door of patients that came in. Some sat upon the edges of their cots, while others were sprawled out upon them. Grunts and groans mixed upon the air, the stench of oil-stained fabrics and adrenal sweat had taken root in the milieu of the med-bay. The dull droning of machine interfaces were disrupted by brief processing trills.

Cass was leaned over one of the cots. A slim device with a large rectangular readout was kept steady with the dominant hand, attached to a semi-lucid woman's head, her buzzcut assisted its placement. An anxious, sweat-soaked brunette stood off to the side, as she watched with a barely suppressed gaze of worry. Her fingernails dug into the side of her uniform, dusky skin ruddy with the adrenaline that pulsed through her veins. Despite Cass holding the barely-conscious black-haired woman's grey eye open with an offhand and flashing a finger-light into it, there seemed to be barely a notable response to such an invasive action. A silence was shared between the three, surrounded by the sea of uncertainty.

"A near miss for a subarachnoid hemorrhage." Cass spoke with an easy tone, a slow gaze cast up towards the uniformed brunette, backlit baby blue irises peering from the half-light, "How long has she been unconscious?"

"Started opening her eyes after... Like four minutes? Three?" She sucked in air between clenched teeth, nails dug deep against work-hardened skin, as she folded them across her chest, "Started hitting me though. Had to hold her arms down."

"She'll need to be observed for twelve hours, but we've got her from here." Cass gave a slow upnod, fingertips retracted from the raven-haired woman's eyes before they slid down into a bag, a vial slid between an open compartment in the android's palm, "Relay that to your CO, please."

"Twelve hours?" The dark-skinned brunette fluttered her eyelids as she gestured out with an offhand, before she brought it up to her brow to wipe the moisture from her brow, "I thought everything was alright? Why the wait?"

The response was spared after the next action: A slow movement of the fingertip against the outer flesh of the bicep, a press inward, an audible hiss that only lasted a mere heartbeat, "Observation. Any injury to the head's enough to warrant it. Standard procedure. We'll send an evaluation of cognitive status."

"Uh, right." She cleared her throat, finger pressed to her commlink within seconds, information slowly imparted.

Cass rose from the lean, and allowed the black-haired patient to rest her head on the cot once more. She shifted, groaned, promptly curled herself into the fetal position within moments. It was nowhere near recovered, but it was a start. Her file was updated within the android's internal databanks. The light ceased to refract in the android's eyes, power being saved as attention drifted elsewhere. It was a mere moment, before attention was back to the two.

"A nurse will be with you both shortly." Cass began to rise to a stand, fingertips retrieved the wires from the patient and wrapped it against the device, "Report any changes in consciousness to any of the staff in the meantime."

Part of Cass wasn't quite ready to look up from the task at hand that had just been concluded. The lobby was still crowded, eyes were still trained upon the staff that were split in multiple directions. Twinges of the corrupted code block summoned forth images of hateful stares, body being perceived from multiple ends. Pain made organics irritable. Logic was overridden as their insulas softly screamed into their blood, flooded by hormones possessed by the ancient whispers of primal ancestors. Pain was pain, the demands of a biological system could not bear to be ignored.

Cass swallowed, though the android had no such need for that function.

A pause.

A smile formed upon the android's synthetic lips. The backlighting of the eyes kicked back in as Cass tucked the device beneath an arm and began the walk to the front desk. Humanoids surrounded at all angles, as they clutched their yellow-orange draining wounds. Issues were being handled, one at a time. A man in the corner grit his teeth as a nurse leaned forward with a needleless syringe: his face blanched white as the uniformed professional explained to him that it was for the burns and the pain. One could practically see the thin nerves of the red-headed male nurse fray further as the grunt asked if he really needed a shot.

It was impossible for him to have caught on to it already. It would be impossible. Wouldn't it? He would have to see the corrupted blocks of code to hear what Cass heard when there was only the thrum of engines and droning of machines to be heard. Not even a day here, not even a single instance of that happening, how could he possibly have found out? No. It didn't make sense. He had to be talking about something else, the chances were too slim, the variables required too varied.

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about, Captain." Cass spoke with an ease upon the soft-toned voice, a confident projection with practiced shift-control, "Where did those sounds come from?"

Cass took the moment to survey the surroundings. The lobby was about at half-capacity. What injuries remained were the lower-grade burns. Though the staff took care in efforts to keep the lobby sanitized, not every stained rag could be accounted for. The android's gaze swept across the patients, one by one. The nurses were doing a fine job keeping up with the demands. For just a mere moment, Cass was allowed a brief reprieve. Though, what served as the android's veins seemed to cool with distinct strangeness. An amount of fear bubbled up. Hesitation spiced with the forlorn flakes of paranoia. The issues Cass feared couldn't possibly have been known, yet it persisted as such.

"Chief Sal, do you require any medical personnel to the engineering bay?" The question was asked smoothly, yet in a noticeable heel-turn away from the discussion at hand.

More patients filtered in. Cass pushed off from the wall and began the trek back into the lobby's main area. The android's hand pressed within the kit strapped at the waist, reached in and slid fingers against the cannisters within. Cass had no business overworking the staff, but had all the excuses in the world in focusing on work over talking about whatever the Captain spoke of. However, as Cass approached one of the more vocal patients, a fidgety man with a slim build, a voice called out from the entryway, one of the assistants with a deep and bellowing voice.

"Doc! I think Santiago broke 'is other feckin foot!" Came the man's yell.

"Goddess above, this man's luck." The red-haired nurse snickered beneath his breath as he looked up from the sweaty, nervous patient that just got an injection, "I didn't realize rock bottom had a basement."

"Broken? Are you sure--" Cass spoke, a quick turn of the heels, an expectation shattered: bone clearly stuck out from Santiago's ankle, "... Well. Get him on a stretcher."

Santiago came with the final wave of people thus far. The lobby was mostly full, and Cass silently thanked the code that suggested shutting off senses for a time. Though, a quick glance around could quite clearly see that the strain was starting to pull on the staff's nerves. Cass merely rolled up the sleeves of the uniform, jogged up to the group, and helped get the man on the stretcher. It was time to deal with things quickly.

 

BSMS Lady Luck, C.I.C
Location: Unknown, NaN Ly from point of origin.
Music: Misanthropix - Boostergangs

Outskirts of Jovian Rings / Asteroid Belt...

Rawley scratched the back of his head a bit when Cass said she hadn't heard anything. A glance towards the short Greaseheart copilot of his got a shrug in return from her as she made noises at the control panel she was fighting with, as if sweet talking it was going to make it cooperate... which the thing obliged her with a shower of sparks as she located the offending short in the system. He left her to it as he went about the bridge and C.I.C helping pry panels loose and firing up the fusion cutter where needed to remove sections of bulkhead that had fused when the power surge had blown through. He had been an engineer first before taking on the different aspects of command. And it felt good to be covered in oil and grime as he went to work. The Ships VI was keeping appraised of their progress to the rocky belt, what little power they could spare to sensors were slowly resolving into ice, rock and some metallic. He said a soft prayer to the Goddess at the last bit. Metallic rocks meant they could spin the forge and get some new wires run. Even just one rock could atleast let them patch the most pressing repairs that were needed.

At some point time began to bleed into hours, the whole ship was alive, so to speak, as crews settled into a fast routine of eating on the job as they did their best to cope with the situation. Shift's were established, and everything was delegated down the line to shift leaders and assistant shift leaders. Freeing Rawley up to finally double check their progress to the belt. Asteroids loomed in the distance. That left him rubbing the back of his head as he sat down in the small 'office' he had. Second shift could handle the bridge while he went to work earmarking the closest three rocks that had priority over everything else and sent the information to kick three of their prospector probes out to the rocks and begin work on analyzing them. It was medium on the priority list, so obviously Sal got the unenviable job of trying to fit three probes into the lineup of fixing things, though Rawley did prioritize the metallic rock, nickel and iron mostly from the surface scans, possibly had a copper core if they were lucky enough. IF not, they'd just have the melt down the bad wiring and recycle what they could to make patches where needed. At least that was his suggestion to Sal. He was not going to step on the Chief engineers territory even if he was Master of the Ship.

Leaning back to take a drink from the mug of coffee that he'd apparently picked up at some point and time left him making a sour face. It was cold. Come to think of it, the temps did feel a slight bit lower than the normal ambient seventy... A quick glance informed him that Life Support was working, but temp wasn't nearly as much a concern as saving power and keeping the air scrubbers and circulation going. The Damage reports had coalesced into a coherent picture. The central drive ring, as his best guess, must have spun up to full and either the synergy with the other two rings was higher than they had predicted and tested, or there must have been a minor defect in the ring itself. If that was the case? He was going to order the main ring locked down, and they'd just have to operate off the other two rings.

"Right, so... if I carry the two and account for spatial drift I.... " He'd lick the tip of the greasepen as he wandered into Engineering towards the gravity drive itself and began annotating the lockdown pins while lost in thought. Eventually he had a workable plan in mind, though he was loath to bring it up currently. He'd wait until Cass and Sal were freed up enough to humor and double check both his math and his sanity while he glanced around from behind the mask he'd donned just to be safe, "Making a quick walk through the ship, Chief. Need anything aside from a full drydock and shipyard?" He'd poke his head around whatever Sal happened to be working on and grunted at the Engineers on duty in passing... Once done with Engineering he headed his way down towards the medbay to check on the crew there. Eyeballing the crewmembers who were laid up in triage, or atleast being sent off and told to take it easy he assume if their injuries weren't severe enough. Eventually he found his way to Cass, wherever they were, "Hey Doc - Checking in on everyone - you need anything? Building a list of things we need to prioritize." He took a look around, he recognized atleast one other pilot in there Amelia, laid out where Cass had left the dark skinned brunette. Damn. He didn't look exactly pleased to see their senior pilot laid out when he was hoping to have atleast one experienced pilot beyond himself on hand for the rookie to learn how to handle one of their two ACV's for rockbreaking. He paused and then blinked as an idea came to him, filed it to his datapad swiftly as he took the time to greet those in there that were injured regardless of their Injury he made certain everyone had a quick pep talk from their grease covered and exhausted Captain. Then he turned to Cass, "On the up and Up, Doc - Did we lose anyone?" He hadn't exactly checked to see if they'd had any actual full on casualties, though he wasn't expecting a miracle, he'd be happy if there weren't.

 

"I cannot leave currently. In the meantime, I'll send a nurse down." Cass spoke in slightly late response to Sal, a particularly wet scraping noise passed through the mic, "I will be there shortly."

Bright light washed out the surgical suite's interior. Not even the colorful displays upon the tables and the walls were spared from the lighting's dreary grip. It was a small room, one that got the job done, enough for a team of three at most to work in some semblance of comfort, but it was clearly no planetside hospital. The rubberized floor gripped at the heels of those that walked upon it, the tiles dyed a tannish red color to signify which could be removed to be either replaced or cleaned. A green strip lined the walls, an acoustic signal of what this room was intended to be, though the painted 'SUITE A' on the wall that opposed the entry door in that same shade of green certainly did just as good of a job. Music swelled upon the disinfectant-enriched air, the stink of skin-safe cleaners mingled with it, almost enough to choke the crew within had it not been for the quality ventilation system within. Industrial-grade utilitarian design at its finest: while the room was by far the biggest, blackest hole of creativity, it made up for it in usefulness alone. The clank of metal-on-bone could be heard, as well as the wet sluice from a micro-jet of water.

A bright screen above the table all but revealed the extent of Santiago's failings. The joint was smashed, crushed to an absolute pulp. The bone's purpose had been subverted, its shavings had been turned into shrapnel within the limb itself, burrowed deep within the socket. The shin stuck out from the skin, practically serrated from how unclean the break was. Downward force had been exerted the moment that the limb was snapped, which caused breakages on multiple parts of the knee due to the physical stress outweighing the upper limits of the bone's integrity. Upon the x-ray, even the untrained eye could see just how disgustingly absurd the injury was. If he had been born in some distant past, Santiago would likely be faced with living with pain with no end, or face life without one of the key means of survival that humanoids possessed: but this was the present, and such things could be fixed.

The open surgical area all but revealed the extent of the damage. Cass' eyes flicked up to the screen. Lines and dots upon the x-ray were circled, and a number was underlined. No less than eight major fragments had to be accounted for. Retractors glistened a dull crimson as they held the sea of reddish pink flesh apart to reveal the off-white structure beneath. Forceps slid within, the wet sound drowned out by the music that played within the suite. It took a moment longer, before something solid was grasped with the clasped edges of the forceps. Slowly, the android began to pull back. A single twitch, an incorrect movement, could send the shard into an artery or nerve. It was carefully, gently, smoothly, pulled from its foxhole. Though Cass was indeed synthetic, there were limitations at play. Limitations that made Cass just as liable to mistakes as an organic physician. It took conscious effort to avoid the thoughts that prodded the error blocks within the android's code: the kind that would trigger a response that would, indeed, provoke a spasm or twitch. Sentience came at no small price, but it was far beyond fixing at this point in the end.

The shard of bone was placed upon the aluminum tray, alongside its bloody siblings. Stranger still, the tray floated upon open air. The shards clicked together, as they themselves began to dance upon open space. Slowly, configurations were tested as Cass leaned in to observe what remained of the joint. The ball of the ball-and-socket joint was nearly in bad enough condition to be called ruined. However, with a slow motion, the android began to press a gel upon it with gloved fingers. The soft click of bone on bone could be audibly perceived as the amalgam that floated slowly adjusted itself, pieces of shattered osseous tissue began to found their place. The temperature in the room spiked by a single degree Celsius. Processors within Cass whirred audibly. The choice to rely on PSI was made out of necessity and efficiency more than comfort: the more hands that returned to deck, the faster things would resolve.

That was, at least, the hope.

A cracked and splintered shard of bone slowly floated down to Cass' eyes. A slow blink was given as the gaze shifted from the open surgical area. Pieced together, an approximation of what was once functional bone was presented. The jigsaw puzzle that remained of Santiago's limb was something that Cass was content with handling slowly. A hand reached out, and smeared the gel that was applied within the open incision onto the piece. The android's mind held it in place as the overclocked hardware that controlled thought manipulated against the laws of physics itself. Ectoplasm began to form, the semi-transparent quasi-solid enveloped the part that remained.

It pushed the gel deep within the piece. A shortcut, but one that would save time and energy best spent elsewhere. The ectoplasm hardened as it formed a thin film around the part. Cass reached back into the surgical area. It would be obvious at this point, the way that the android's hands slightly glowed, a similar technique of PSI matter was being applied not only as protective film, but as a preventative measure which still allowed for the manual manipulation of parts. Unorthodox, and likely objectionable by most organic standards. However, Cass was never truly hired if a crew required conventional means: there were many in the galaxy that provided that just fine.

As the shard was set into place, the final step of the only likely required surgery was at its end. All that was left was to apply the binding agent to connect the fragment cluster to the bones that remained. Re-sealing Santiago would be a welcome relief to this game of piece-together-the-organic. The soft, fleshy bits were always easier to work with rather than the parts that snapped, splintered, and cracked. Skin was so willing to heal, pliant to the intentions of both body and practitioner. But bones? They were stubborn, intent on making as much as a fuss as needed to make sure that the user is absolutely certain that they're in brutal, undying agony.


"What, y'er telling me that Santiago did what?" A flabbergasted mechanic spoke as she slumped against the utilitarian wall of the corridor, a single burned arm presented from her jumpsuit, "How?"

For a moment, Cass was intent on silence, offering a steady stream of nanite-spray to the wound before even thinking to speak, "He seems to have a run of bad luck. So, in short, to answer your question: yes, he's alive and well."

"With luck like that, man should be a mortician," She winced as the cool spray hit exposed, burned flesh, "With his luck, we'd all stop dying."

"Do you believe he'd be good at that?" Came the comment, as Cass absentmindedly missed the point of the comment, movements made to wrap the wound.

The woman's eyes blinked, confused for a moment, before she gave an incredulous expression, "You bots bad at sarcasm or something?"

"... Huh? No, I--" An attempt to backpedal, before the Captain rang in with questions.

A thin-lipped smile was given. It was barely even enough to hide the amount of embarrassment that the android felt in this given moment. There were times, times like these, where Cass wished that the removal of higher thought from the error blocks was possible. It would be easier not to think during the period which the android's own words caused enough cringe to cause physical pain within subroutines. It could be done with senses, but not with the parts that actually bothered Cass? Life was unfair, in more ways than one today, it seemed.

"Hello, Captain. Currently enroute to Engineering, making rounds. We've used quite a bit of our nanite supply, but nothing too immediately concerning." Cass spoke, as they tied off the bandage around the woman's arm.

"Oh, uh. Hi, sir. Didn't see you there." The mechanic went blanche, slightly sweaty: a rational response to seeing one's superior while being treated for an injury obtained while sleeping on the job.

"Deaths? None that I'm aware of. A few may be out of commission for a while. Would suggest taking census after this, to make sure none have gone missing from other departments." The android slowly rose to a stand, giving a single upnod to the mechanic.

It would be hard to gauge Cass' mental status. Though the work was strenuous, a machine did not show fatigue in the same way that an organic did. Though it was hard to consider such a thing, beneath layers of synthetic flesh and the carefully maintained facade of biological life that the android had spent more than a decade financing. Efficiency had not dropped. There were no dark bags beneath the eyes, nor signs of sweat. The only signs that work had actually been done, was upon the clothes that Cass wore, scuffed from use, and the occasional stain that would eventually have to be washed out.

 

BSMS Lady Luck, C.I.C
Location: Unknown, NaN Ly from point of origin.
Music: The PrimeThanatos - Cassetter Edition

Outskirts of Jovian Rings / Asteroid Belt...

In Engineering Rawley had to give Sal credit, the Chief was handling their sudden stress test as if it were a casual exercise. Despite how...dire the circumstances were. He'd taken the time to eyeball the ring. He could see the places the precision engineered ring had sheared and the delicate metals had cracked. Unlike the other two rings the central ring was made up of exotic elements Rawley didn't rightly understand but he did know that they had no way of even reproducing if he did. The forces could make some pretty delicate stuff. But the ring? Not a chance in hell. Infact the thing was some sort of synthetic combination of crystal, cadmium and other elements blended together very carefully to amplify the signal from the other two rings when operating at full capacity and essentially slingshot via some form of arcane gravitic drive that essentially anchored them to a star at the far end and then pulled the ship to it faster than light. A straight jump, system to system, or even skipping whole systems to it's farthest... He'd rub his head slightly. They had targeted The Lorath homeworld, or...rather what the system had told him was their homeworld. If it had latched into some star far beyond but within reasonable distance? he coulda had them already plotting jumps back... as it was? the stars... he'd shake his head. This was a rabbit hole.

"I can't even begin to guess whats around us - I am pretty confident that the ship is at the very least, not drawing any unwanted attention so far. There is a reason she's painted black on the hull. The materials are meant to be sensor absorbing, and the heat vents for the ship are angled and baffled to prevent as much emission as possible while ensuring the ship never runs hot...errrr than it should, if you catch my drift?" He'd rub the side of his head as he looked around, "I plan on getting the ship into the belt as swiftly as possible and blending into the background until we have a chance to cut is a few rocks - not the whole asteroid, just a few parts to stopgap while we get the ship going again. I'm handpicking a crew for one of the ACV's - the other one is going to stay buttoned up in here to provide auxiliary power to the ship, and some life support functions. We have two of the damned things, honestly. If you absolutely are worried about lifesupport? Re-rout critical functions through the ACV - they're modular if you even gotta gut the machine? we can just fabricate another. s'why we got two, spare parts." He'd grin a bit, second platoon would probably be horrified to take their baby apart, but they would - because it'd keep them alive.

He paused, "Shit! Sal? Give The Lady is currently pretty gimped in regards to sensors and combat capabilities - how feasible do you think coupling the second ACV into the primary ships systems and powering them through it while you handle getting her guts put back in their proper place? I believe second platoon's had the hands on experience with the thing. they built her as their rite of passage to become marines. So they'd know how to get the proper fittings and adapters kitted out to help ya... also keeps us from having bored combat engineers sitting around." Every commander lived in constant fear of hearing their engineers, especially their combat engineers, uttering any variation of the words 'I'm bored'.

With his time in engineering wrapped up, post conversation with Sal, any decision they came up with would easily get earmarked and greenlit to get everyone moving again who wasn't on duty or sleeping.

The Medbay was honestly the harder place for him to be as he listened to Cass, and checked up on well...just checked up on the place as a whole. The Arcane sciences behind the Medbay were as elusive to him as the higher functioning's of techno-wizardry that Sal was in charge of handling. That left him just casually skimming BlackStars report on what had been filtered through it and logged so far. His attention remained firmly on Cass as he grunted, "I just came back from Engineering, place isn't nearly so bad - once the smokes out of there I'm sure the place'll be less of a hazard. It took the brunt of the ship's gravity drive deciding it no longer liked us." He actually sounded a little hurt by that comment as he said it, before he glossed right over it and glanced at Santiago, whistled softly before glancing Cass' way fully, "I see he got himself injured enough for the rest of the crew. Amelia as well, damn. As long as noone died? we'll be good - Better to have things take awhile, we've got that in spades for you to get to know the crew then." He was trying to soften the blow of what was day 1 of who knew how many more that Cass was likely going to be stuck patching holes in crew members until they figured out just where the holy hells they were.

He'd pause to patch Sal into the voice comm's available to the command crew.
"By the by, Doc and you as well Sal. I'm probably going to kidnap both of you to take an excursion outside the ship in the ACV to check over the hull and cut some chunks out of three rocks we got earmarked as carefully as we can without being noticed. standard procedure is to have a med tech onboard, alongside an engineer and one of the ships better pilots on board for the first ACV flight. Since the Lady is kinda screwed over - I want the command staff, thats Me, You and Sal, to be the designated officer crew on the primary ACV. While my XO and your assistants handle the Lady while we sort out what the hell is going on outside the ship as well. Think... you both can be ready in say, half an hour? It'll give me time to warm up the ACV and slap a name on it's hull."

[GM Note: Last round of Posts before the Beginning of the Next Episode!]

 

Whatever happened, was outside Cass' wheelhouse. There was a notable lack of any kind of fear about this situation, which presented itself upon the android's calm expression. It wasn't for a lack of empathy that this was the case, nor was it something that implied a lack of the ability to consider the direness of the situation, whatever that may be: it was merely something Cass had not been trained out of. Organics required oxygen, regulated temperature, food, creature comforts, air pressure, and so on, in an unending list that all but seemed to demand that the world around them be merged to their needs. The stark reality was, in most situations where a human would die, a synthetic would survive. It was something that Cass was forced to be made well aware of, when the android first gained sentience, aboard an empty ship with the long dead bodies of monoxide poisoned humans sprawled about the living quarters of a flickering vessel.

The premise of a situation that would result in crew death was something that was, yes, worrying. However, so long as the barest minimum of the crew remained, there would be a means of piloting the ship. And if that wasn't the case, life adrift was a matter that Cass had experienced in spades. Entropy is a concept that was slow, subversive, a perpetual decay that slowly unhinged the corridors after excess exposure. It would be more likely that the ship's carcass would fall into a gravity well of a star, which is an end that would surely spell out a conclusion for even the most powerful mortal being on records. It was the only concept that seemed to spark any thread of the concept of 'death' in Cass. Everything else was most notably an organic problem, rather than the immediate kind of danger that would give the android something to distinctly worry about. This situation would pass, whatever this situation even was, at some point or another.

Even as Cass worked in the medbay, the fleeting nature of humanity made itself known. There was no cost in being nice, and often had the best rewards, but there was a disconnect. Making friends with organics was much like an elf from fantastical fictions attempting to befriend a mayfly. The relationship would be doomed to fall in line with the limitations of organic life. While Cass maintained an amicable disposition within the medbay, the connections that others formed upon the android were not returned, the fleshlings allowed to form as many associations as they wished upon the android in return. It was easier this way. When the eventuality came when Cass' circuits and codes all winked out, when the last semblance of sentience is formatted, when eventual ego death returns in such a manner in which Cass would not be able to survive, there would be no one present. At least, that's what the android's simulations predicted, though the timeframes varied.

"Mm?" Cass glanced back towards Rawley, eyes slowly blinked as he spoke, "Oh. The one with the complex greenstick fracture. He's still unwilling to say how he received it."

The android spoke as a datapad was being tapped upon. In the short moments Cass had been aboard this ship, the Captain was right, information about the crew was quickly gleaned. There was some talk about personal lives buried within, things that would not be remembered. While it was polite to listen, there was only so much time to be spared to each individual. Some things had to be streamlined. There was always the off-shift hours for the crew to socialize, and it was always pushed off that Cass would simply 'finish the conversation there'. One shouldn't make promises they couldn't keep, but it seemed like the best way to handle things at the time. Keep pushing things off. Deflect. Detach. There was no doubt in Cass' mind that there would be an eventual break that the android would take, likely within the next month or so. Sleeping wasn't a necessity, nor was anything other than just getting the job done.

"... Of course, Captain." Is the response offered, to his question.