SleepyWrites
PrinceAlexus
Festive
Cyrania
Izurich
Pilatus
Days
MrSkimobile
FourtyTwoDarien had just finished up the final line of the reel he had been playing about a historic and ancient train back on Terra, the train had been used in a now famous and classic young adults movie series about magic and adventure. Pre-Market collapse holos and video disks of the movies still sold for millions I'd you were lucky to find them. As he's blazing the last notes of the song and into the ending drone, his pipes humming above him, he spots thr captain head I the hall door. He gives the young man a nod as the old Scot bobcat starts to put his great pipes away. As he's doing so the young captain speaks. And the old cat quirks a brow, "Och captain ah kin sum it a' up in a few wee wurds if ye lik'. Or a list tae kin tak' a paukit bit langer. Bit a list yi'll waant a list ye wull git aye." Darien carefully put his pipes back in its protective, reinforced and shielded container and pushes it out of the way. Then turned back to the captain, "Gimme a short bit 'n' ah will follow ye back tae th' fankle wi' a list captain, bet yer fuzzy pumpin' tail ah wull. Gang oan catch up in a short paukit wee bit."
After the captain left the great kilted bobcat sat at his desk in medical and began to draw up a list of supplies. In his mind everything was right damned important. But things like bandages, painkillers, disinfectants, antisceptics and drugs came at the top of the list. Splints, break healing apparti and crush damage solving items were up high too. Space sickness drugs. A new supply of hibernation fluid wouldn't hurt the stuff they had would go rancid in a few trips and no one wanted to come out of the pod smelling like 19 day old cheese and unwashed underwear. Nausea aids might be nice too. On down to getting a crew to come in and assess the ship for medical hazards. Though technically Darien could do that assessment, why do the work, when you can get the Rook or a good team to do it for you? "If you're not cheating, you're not winning" was the motto of the corpsman Corp of Alphabet security after all.
A short time later Darien drifted into the mess hall, still wearing his great kilt tartan and travel short kilt, Macpherson colors, the same colors his family wore, still draped over him. He smiles, "Gie a guid scotsmans yin thing, th' kilt kin seem streenge, bit th' breeze o'er mah baws is sure something let me tell ye." The scottish feline gave out a proper chortle as he walked over to the you captain and handed him a data slate "That stoatin list ye asked fur sur. Itemized 'n' sorted by priority. We're richt fucked if we dinnae pick up everything oan it eventually, bit th' maist wantit is thare at th' tap. Gaun a stowed oot journey wi' oot th' tap stuff, 'n' ye kin ad weel sign oor death warrants son." The rather brutally honest medic made his way to see what kind of snot Luck had put together today.
After the captain left the great kilted bobcat sat at his desk in medical and began to draw up a list of supplies. In his mind everything was right damned important. But things like bandages, painkillers, disinfectants, antisceptics and drugs came at the top of the list. Splints, break healing apparti and crush damage solving items were up high too. Space sickness drugs. A new supply of hibernation fluid wouldn't hurt the stuff they had would go rancid in a few trips and no one wanted to come out of the pod smelling like 19 day old cheese and unwashed underwear. Nausea aids might be nice too. On down to getting a crew to come in and assess the ship for medical hazards. Though technically Darien could do that assessment, why do the work, when you can get the Rook or a good team to do it for you? "If you're not cheating, you're not winning" was the motto of the corpsman Corp of Alphabet security after all.
A short time later Darien drifted into the mess hall, still wearing his great kilt tartan and travel short kilt, Macpherson colors, the same colors his family wore, still draped over him. He smiles, "Gie a guid scotsmans yin thing, th' kilt kin seem streenge, bit th' breeze o'er mah baws is sure something let me tell ye." The scottish feline gave out a proper chortle as he walked over to the you captain and handed him a data slate "That stoatin list ye asked fur sur. Itemized 'n' sorted by priority. We're richt fucked if we dinnae pick up everything oan it eventually, bit th' maist wantit is thare at th' tap. Gaun a stowed oot journey wi' oot th' tap stuff, 'n' ye kin ad weel sign oor death warrants son." The rather brutally honest medic made his way to see what kind of snot Luck had put together today.