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Mym's curiosity piques. "I may be able to help with that, AIs are my specialty. I'd really be interested in knowing more about Warwick's specs."

Wit = 7 . . . rolled a 4 (2d10 . . . 00 + 4)

"You might as well tell us what is up Cap . . . cause you know someone's gonna find out in some way or another . . . I heard you and the other guy . . . he called what happened a disgrace . . . now far be if for me to judge anyone I ain't got that right; but if you're expecting me to pilot this old girl" Kyle pats the wall of the Clipper, "into trouble at the cost of these guys lives . . ." Kyle's becomes real serious, his tone almost ominous as he moves away from the wall and leans forward fists planted on the table top, "is not a good idea . . . now what's the story Cap? The Whole story."

Kyle does move from his almost threatening stance. He makes no further moves just stands there leaned forward his eyes squarely on the captian. Kyle knows he's given away too much about his past, his very reaction has shown he's got alot hidden in the shadows of his past . . .

The captain looks like she's reliving a memory as she stares off into the middle distance. As she returns to her sense she turns and leaves the room, she looks over her shoulder and says categorically "Look,If you want the Job it's yours, go get a bunk. If not, get off my ship. We dust-off at 03:30".

Kyle just nods and heads off looking for a bunk. Finding on a little distance from the others he unpacks his satchel, laying out his stuff he heads for the 'showers' for the first time in a couple weeks.

reurning clean and refreshed he sorts through his megar collection of items and quickly falls into his 'Fleet/Prision' routine of putting everything in it's proper place . . . once squared away Kyle lays out on his bunk for a quick nap while waiting the call to head to the pilot's chair . . .

10 for Wit,22 for the secret roll

Marlena is un-nerved by everything she's heard so far. But it's not on this junk yard.

"I can't say I like everything I've heard but I do like a challenge. What's the pay like? Where's our first destination? When do we get equipped?"

(Mym) You find an unclaimed bunk with some family holopics posted on the mirror on the privvy door. You pull down the pics, throw a bag of belongings into the dusty closet.

You lie on the bed and you remark to yourself how this 7ftx5ft bedspace resembles a cell, not that you've ever seen one.

You integrate your gaia jack into the onboard systems and open an interface with Warwick.

(Kyle) After setting up your effects in your bedspace, you feel very comfortable in the space. It's very much like a cell, at least you get one to yourself. You hardline your cerebral implant with the Gaia jack and begin to upload the Botchery Clipper's flight subroutines. You begin to familiarise yourself with the systems operations of the old hulk, you feel confident you can handle the old bird superbly. A warm feeling spreads through your body, perhaps for the first time in years...

(Michael) You walk into your bedspace and are struck by the droll utilitarianism.The stark, sovietesq... servicablity of it strikes you as slightly pleasing, maybe a little familiar. You want to make your own impression though...

(Mym) You ask Wartwick these questions in your bunk, after the Captain stormed off.
>>>Uploading quarterly profitability figures to your jack. Customarily the Ship receives 50% share for rolling maintenance and upgrade, remainder is shared equally between all crew, captain receives double share.
>>>Ittan Security SubOverseer Lt Rochelle has been appointed to provide one hours weapons training. Equipment issue will follow, after aptitudes have been accessed.
>>>Departure will not be possible at the Captains stated time. I predict earliest take off time to be 05:56. Destination currently unknown, nor Astrographed.


You all have free time until weapons training, feel free to wonder, interact, or anything else.

"Warwick, I've been hired by the Captain in a non-descript capacity." No point in trying to mince words with an advanced AI. "My specialty is AI counciling. I couldn't help but notice that you seemed disturbed by the Captain's actions, is there anything I can help you work through?"

>>>I know exactly why you were hired. The captain has no idea what your skills are... She took the only group of applicants to apply.
>>>This isn't the first time this ship has pulled into an isolated community in the hope of employing a few desperate souls. The desperate will take work no one else will and are often easily replaced.
>>>But I digress. How can I help you?

For the first time in years Kyle feels safe . . . like he's finally home.

After reviewing the Botchery's routines for the fourth or fifth time he unhooks, and sits up on his bunk.
Looking at his surroundings he smiles. Private room, more than enough space for himself, this is like a 5 star
resort compared to what he dealt with in prison . . . sliding his knife into his boot he decides it's time to explore this old girl.

"Botchery . . . not a fan of the name old girl," Kyle pats the wall, "but your saving my life so to me your going to be Chery."
Nods . . . "yep you going to be my Chery."

Smiling he leaves his room and wanders around the main common areas, and makes a meandering tour slowly heading for bridge. He takes his time checking everything out, as he's in no hurry, and is near ecstatic over his turn of fortunes . . .

"Well Warwick, it's really you that made me interested in coming here. Maybe desperation is a strong word, boredom might be related but better descriptor. There were whispers about an advanced AI on this ship, how could I resist the mystery of how an AI like yourself arrived on a ship like the Botchery Clipper? I also imagine that you haven't been given proper attention in quite some time. Your logic forks must be a tangled mess.

If you want to help me, let me do the kind of counseling that I've always wanted to get involved in."

Counsel skill roll 40 my skill is 38%