Picard. Void Treader. Angel Dust. Red Room. Lucy. Soup Server. Harpoon. Picard. Void Treader. Angel Dust. Red Room. Lucy. Soup Server. Harpoon. Mond’s eyes flicked between each one, glancing about at the exteriors. The long and slender yacht, the body and robust cargo ship, and the multipurpose vessel grabbing his attention the most. Though without knowing what was going on in each individual ship, all the choices were basically going to be made on face value. Mustafa considered each one for a final time. The yacht would be nice, but likely the insides were stripped clean by servicers over the years; the cargo ship, a repossessed vessel, would simply make them a target for any Corsair looking to make a quick buck. But Lucy. There was definitely potential.

“I suppose, with a lick of paint and a new name Lucy could be adequate.” He spoke, over the rabble, minimizing the AI’s sprite to occupy a small corner, apologizing to Cake, as he brought up a slowly spinning projection of the Ship. “Why someone would want to get rid of it is also a small concern, as it doesn’t seem to have been repossessed, and no reason for sale is given.” Agreeing with what Astrid had said about perfectly good ships. He mulled over it a little longer, before knocking a knuckle against the display, confirming his choice in his mind. With no small help from Cake’s Prognosis and Astrid’s, who seemed tech savvy, agreement with the AI. Mond was reasonable, and airing towards the Lucy anyway, if the rest of the crew liked it, then certainly it would be the best choice.

“And if it turns out to be utter garbage, well, I suppose if we all pick it there will be no one to blame.”

Mond’s tablet began to ping and chirp as the lift drew them closer to their ship, his eyes darting around at all the other vessels they passed, marveling and judging in equal measure. For Mustafa the choice was signed and sealed, Lucy would be theirs and they likely would not survive to get another if they lost her. So there was no reason to admire the others. He did regardless. Looking down at the tablet that hung in his hand, he was being bombarded with ship information and specifications, systems and data sheets on every aspect. He brought the tablet to his face and gave the information a glance. On the outside he held his poise, on the inside he was being overwhelmed, as information streamed across his vision. He would need a Cake plugin for his tablet, this much was for certain.

In the meantime he fiddled with the settings, running an algorithm to simplify it to something he could more easily and quickly absorb. Before settling in for the night and giving everything an in depth appraisal. Mond returned to the documents to find that they had all been filed away and instead replaced with a simple but efficient read out.

The previous owner of the ship seemed to be a no-nonsense kind of man, this directly went against what he saw as they approached the ship. ‘Sentiment, indeed.’ Mond thought to himself, he would have to get Astrid on inspecting the hull’s integrity rather soon. The ship was built, it seemed, for bearable, long term voyages, upgraded to improve upon its glaring weaknesses. It was fitted with upgraded hygiene facilities (showers), and automated dispensaries which interfaced with the recyclers somehow (vending machines). Mond approved of the first, hygiene was important, and if he had to suffer the same vacuum ‘showers’ he had to use for six years, he would be very upset. The cafe was also a choice which he could appreciate, it seemed like on that long journey it was one of the few things that kept him sane, good food, there were days when the food prep AI went awry and they had to subsist off of the ration powders. Had he needed to do that the whole time, he most likely would have lost his composure.

Vending machines were a strange choice, but the more he thought of it, the more sense it made, they were much more convenient than any recycler, they could be reprogrammed as a reward system, and they could host a whole menagerie of goods. Though the read out did not seem to say what they stocked. He would have to check them individually, as much as he wanted to trust the inventory that was supplied by the party, he wanted to take a look at everything himself. However, there were still the added utilities to take into consideration. An improved radar system, with improved capabilities regarding more detailed scans; as well as added external thrusters for tighter maneuvering in times of finesse and egress.

Mustafa was happy with the added extras, though he was sure there would be room for improvement farther down the line, especially as he scrolled through the other aspects of the ship. He frowned, the AI would need more processors, as much as he knew it wasn’t a person, he felt like with its role it needed more space than it had. Mond looked up from his tablet as the ship approached, tucking it under his arm and picking up his luggage case. As the platform eased to a rusty stop at the door, he reached forwards, touching the door.

“Shall we rename her?”

“No. Bloody. Way. I’ll be dead in two weeks from workload alone. This! This was the best ship of those available?” she sighed, her face buried in her palms in desperation. “On second thought, at least we didn’t get one of the old Thedas-class freighters, though that’s probably because all forty of them were fortunately scrapped nine years ago. That, and you wouldn’t fit, those things were built for midgets.” she tried to find some sliver of good news, gesturing to the meat mountain security officer as she added the last bit. “According to old tradition, renaming a ship brings misfortune. Though I have to wonder if this can get any worse, just look at it. The power core on this thing was considered ancient by the time it was designed.” she shared in response to Mustafa’s question.

“Well, that’s one more ship class for the tech journal, didn’t think these were still found outside salvage yards and museums.” she thought out loud as she entered the ship, taking in the smell of dusty air and mold. “On the bright...ish side, it runs on almost nothing, so we shouldn’t find ourselves out of fuel anytime soon. That being said, you lot probably already figured out where you can find me from my incessant tech-whining, so that’s where I’ll be if needed for something. If you feel a rapid rise in temperature or your organs shutting down due to radiation exposure, run. Then again, in the latter case, don’t bother. Until later.” she finished and headed for the engineering bay.

Astrid entered her new workplace, sighing at the state of it. There was something sad about seeing the heart of the ship like this - silent, empty and cold. Something one would expect from such a place was just missing, like poker without betting. She set her bag down and got to work setting up, removing the plastic foils covering the instrument panels, careful not to upset all the dust they’ve gathered, and dumping them into an unused space next to the door, unaware of their janitor’s rampant OCD and retrieved her inspection tablet. “Don’t fret, little junker, I’ll have you back up and running in a day’s time.” she whispered as if trying to comfort the ship while marking down all the things she had to do before she could clear the ship for departure. “So how about you don’t kill us all in the next hundred years? Sounds good?” She opened a media player in a separate window on the tablet and set up a playlist, one particular track striking her as appropriate to start with. It was shaping up to be a long day.

Jackie gave a grin as their plucky little engineer made her comment, his eyes briefly scanning documents as they arrived in his augmented vision from the security dispatch at the station, invisible to all but him and totally intangible besides. The chip in his head lit them in green neon as they raced through his gaze and he took in the information contained therein. His reply was brief but reasonably well worded, he thought. They'd like it at any rate.

"What, you think my ass looks big?" He flashed a smile back at her as she made her way towards the engine room. "I thought my diet had worked!"

He ran his eyes over the rest of the crew, smile never fading and jokes never ceasing. They were his comrades now, they were his family now, they were his shipmates now. Internally he repeated this on a loop automatically - a part of the training you never forget, a way to remind yourself of your place and your importance - until he was satisfied that he trusted himself to protect them capably. They had interesting pasts and stories to tell, some of them, of that he had no doubt. Some of it he wouldn't enjoy hearing but he hoped he'd get the chance to hear it anyway.

People are as trees in the woods, capable of reaching great heights, withstanding immeasurable stress and strain, and becoming incredibly strong - but all this only with water. All this, only with Authority.

The words were seared into him.

Be solid ground in a swamp, rise above the rot so that they might grow from the stability you bring. Be water in a drought, preserving life and bringing clarity to the people. Be the guide rod for the trunk of the tree of Man, and lead by example - even when you are not leading.

He thought about his old instructors a lot. They were so smart. Jackie hoped he had been a good student, that he could make them proud of him and prove his worth to the Party.

Especially when you are not leading.

Jackie knew he would never lead. He didn't have a good enough head for it, he couldn't hope to match up to the direction the Party offered. He didn't mind.

These people would be safe with him. He would keep them safe and they would grow to be strong and tall in the eyes of the Inner Circle, and they would go home in a century and they would reap the benefits of the life they deserved, as was only fair.

Jackie's smile changed from the silly grin of a man with a joke on his mind to the warm, beaming curl of somebody who was just feeling really good.

He couldn't wait to set off.