With nothing to do except get situated, Ianthe boarded the cruiser and made her way to the crew deck. She selected one of the smaller cabins, quarters that likely would have been assigned to a junior officer during the vessel's heyday. While she'd tended to operate solo since escaping the Program, she'd spent enough time working with teams that she was acutely aware of the need to earn the respect of her new shipmates. Presuming, as the newcomer, to claim one of the roomier cabins would probably be unhelpful.<br/><br/>She unpacked just enough to be able to describe the cabin as "hers": coat hung from a hook near the door, armor and spare clothes stowed in a locker adjacent to the shower, and sword and guns left on a nightstand within easy reach from the bed. Her coffee addiction alone merited some ritual: she arranged her newly-purchased vacc-sealed whole beans, her grinder, and her French press on the little desk near the door. Then, dressed in a well-worn set of surplus military coveralls, she set back out into the ship to explore.<br/><br/>Her first stop was the bridge, to link her wrist-comp with the ship's computer and comms.  The fussiness of the dated systems left her cursing the air blue; tech was not her forté. But<i>finally</i>she was rewarded with a prompt, and after giving one of the wall panels a scolding tap with a toe, announced,<span style="color: mediumturquoise">"Ianthe, online here,"</span>into her mic and began heading down toward the mess.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>