conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: jebob: The Exotlay Starport bustles with activity and commerce; cargo 'bots shifting cargo back and forth, the sound of voices amongst the roar of engines, and the smell of fuel and sweat as an army of dockhands slave to repair, refit and refuel the ships that pass through the port. There are ships of all shapes and sizes from the largest megafreighter to the smallest shuttle. Nesting between a pair of salvage vessels lies the  Gallifrey , a Type-A free trader.
  
   
   Spoiler 
  OOC Thread:  http://www.giantitp.com/forums/showthread.php?p=9183135 
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Fortuna: Muffled cursing, or possibly differential equations, comes from a small hatch in the back of the engine room.
  
    "muttermuttermuttermutter"  
  
  Lights flicker on and off and sparks fly from the control panel nearby.
  
    "muttermuttermuttermutter"  
  
  Suddenly, the lights go out entirely. The muttering stops for a moment, then the lights flare on accompanied by a shriek of pain.
  
   "Bloody hell!" 
  
  A man leaps out of the hatch, wearing a vacc-suit and swearing extensively. He extracts a tool from his pocket and twiddles something just inside the hatch, then closes the hatch and screws it in place.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Malfunctioned: A mountain of man sits in the one of the chairs on the bridge of the ship, his feet propped up on the control panel and a somewhat worn combat helmet pulled over a his head. A slight rumbling sound is coming from that chair, which is quickly identified as snoring, that snoring is swiftly interrupted by a loud shout coming from the engine room.
  
  His sleep interrupted, Olen walks over to the source.
   "What in the name of the Emperor are you doing now?"  
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Heatwizard: Travis slides his fingers across the display of the ship's astral map, updating the jump routes displayed on it. As small lines between hundreds of planets appear, disappear, and change a variety of colors, the lit display suddenly darkens, matching the rest of the ship, before coughing back to life. Travis' eyebrows furrow in irritation, not relishing having to restart the update; it had been downloading for ages. All the software already installed on this old boat was at least months out of date. Scott cursed in the next room, interrupting Olen's slumber in the pilot's chair. It was just as well; he was putting his feet up on the wheel again.
  
   "What broke?" , Travis calls into the next room, voice tinted by exasperation.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: jebob: Jean Durst drops down from the hatch leading to the passenger area and stumbles sideways. He rights himself, and asks,  "When are we a'leaving? Father wants the dogs delivered as soon as possible." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Malfunctioned: "Just as soon as Quinn and Crake show up. Until then find some way to keep yourself busy." 
  
  He presses a button on the intercom.
  
   "This is Olen, I'm going to see if I can calibrate the hardpoints. God knows we need some kind of weapon systems on there...." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Blue Guard: The aforementioned Crake was leaning against the hull, his head pressed against the cold metal because of his antics the night previous (planet time). Y'see last night Crake had decided to celebrate the coming departure with a few dock workers he'd gotten friendly with, and one drink led to another which led to something which was still fuzzy. Unsteadily he stumbled into the crew commons through the airlock and tried to ignore the sounds of the rest of the crew until he was somewhere comfortable.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: jebob: The cargo is loaded aboard, the ship fuelled, and the protective patch on the paduch disk is found. After a bottle of cheap wine is smashed against the prow, you leave for the stars and profit beyond your wildest imaginings.
  
  The ships handles badly, but functions well enough. You claw your way upwards, ascending through the atmosphere towards the jump limit when you detect a distress call coming from a vessel in orbit...
   
   Spoiler 
  Parlity hasn't posted in a while, so I'm moving on the plot.
   
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Heatwizard: Comms ( (2d6+1)[ 6 ] ) to investigate?
  
  (edit) I blame this relic of a communications system. Who still uses transmodal switches in these? Seriously.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: jebob: Message reads as follows:
   "Theres something gone wrong with the fusion plant, and theres a bunch of alarms going off so its probably serious. I need immediate technical assistance."  It repeats.
  
  The voice is male with a Vargr accent.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: The Blue Guard: By the time the ship broke atmosphere Crake have downed a half-dozen pills, and was approaching a sluggish mental pace when Travis piped in the distress call.  " Frak. "  Law was that they had to respond to those messages.  " How far away are they? "  Moaned Crake roughly as he struggled to the doorway leading to the bridge.  " And does he know if it's external or internal? "  Internal and Monty could deal with by himself, leaving Crake to stay very still on the settee.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Malfunctioned: "I'll come with whoever is going. Just in case." 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: jebob: Sensors detect a small craft (&lt;50 dtons) at a distance of about 15,000km. It's course indicates the engines are not accelerating. ETA is 25 minutes, should you choose to intercept.