Cantenelli remained quiet, letting his eyes probe Kala's as she tried to justify herself before him. She was a mechanic, something that he needed more of to keep the Acheron in prime shape. Without the rest of the small army that he had to keep the Acheron in order, he found himself more open to the girl than he would have at an earlier point in time. And her eyes held no lie, none that Cantenelli could discern, though he was hardly a master on the subject. What he did see, though, was a hint of pride, a sense of her appraisal of her own talents. Even insulting the ship that she was working aboard, she was adamant at her sole ability to keep it working. Such confidence was a needed thing in their line of work.<br/><br/>The airlock opened behind Cantenelli and everyone's attention shifted. It was the Turian, Firas. He had apparently decided to come back to the ship anyway. He remarked at Kala being alive, and Cantenelli's eyes darted to the side, as he acknowledged the Turian's presence in his mind. Then Firas, mirroring Cantenlli's own thoughts, commented on the girl's capable exterior.<br/><br/>After Firas offered to find use for her, the bridge fell quiet. Cantenelli kept his eyes fixed on Kala while Falkris, the Quarian, the Human pilot, the Asari, and the Salarian all looked at Firas.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Girl,</span>Cantenelli finally spoke to Kala,<span style="color: Blue">This ship may look sleek and efficient out there, but in here, beneath your feet, is a machine that requires constant attention. Keeping a flying pile of shit in the air is an easy task when placed beside trying to keep a wild machine like the Acheron functioning.</span>Cantenlli kept his blue eyes fixed on Kala's.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Mickey, damage report.</span>He said, louder.<br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Uhh,</span>The Human in the pilot's chair looked back at the swathe of consoles before him.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Couplings... A, B, and C are all fried.</span>He paused,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Uhm, actually, uhh, you better make that Alpha D and Bravo D as well. Actually, ye know what? The whole assemble is just shot to shit. We're probably going to need to replace the lines too. Uhhh... Also, the internal heat syncs weren't vented after weapon's discharge so panels 3, 4, and uhh... 8, on sections 3 and 4 of C deck are all warped out of alignment. We're going to have to replace those as well. Fuck, and that's just the weapons. Something tore up the whole goddamn fuel assembly. It's got a bunch of replacements parts on it, and not a god damn one of them are of the correct specs.</span>The pilot, Mickey, threw his hands up in the air and sat back in the chair.<br/><br/>The chair rotated and pulled away from the console so that Mickey was facing the crew.<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">It's going to take Airea and me at least two or three days to straighten this mess out.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Navy">What about the engines?</span>The Asari, a moderately attractive woman with a purple skin tone and white marks on his cheeks and above her eyes asked.<br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Ye know...</span>Mickey said, looking back at the console briefly before turning his eyes on her,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Let's just assume that the whole mess is fucked up. The dispersion grid is showing a pretty sharp spike across all four so... yeah. They probably, uhh, they probably need to be rotated at the very least.</span><br/><br/>The Asari mumbled an expletive under her breathe and lowered her head slightly.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Mickey,</span>Catenelli said again, his eyes having remained on Kala's the whole time.<span style="color: Blue">What caused this damage?</span><br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Well, uhh, without pulling up the logs, I would guess uhh... </span>He said, darting his eyes around a little,<span style="color: MediumTurquoise">A discharge of the gun at full power... uhm, an activation of the stealth system without recalibration and registry of ol' Makey's patch job...hence the locked heat emissions... and probably flooring this bird from near stop.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Thank you Mickey.</span>Cantenelli tilted his head slightly.<span style="color: Blue">Hear that, girl? All of that from firing the gun, and accelerating. Imagine what happens when we get hit. Now, you say that you kept a rust bucket flying. Good for you. But do you think you can keep a multi-billion credit experimental warship flying?</span>He asked Kala.<br/><br/>The girl's answer to the positive prompted a short nod from Cantenelli who stood and offered her a hand.<span style="color: Blue">Well, then. I'm Captain Cantenelli and this is the Acheron. </span>He shook her hand, and tightened his grip slightly.<span style="color: Blue">Try to access any restricted information in the ship's security network and I'll kill you myself.</span>He released her hand.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">This is our pilot. He goes by Mickey.</span>Cantenelli introduced, gesturing to the Human in the chair who waved.<span style="color: Blue">And the Asari is Airea. She is our chief flight engineer and technology officer. She and Mickey are in charge of maintaining the Acheron. The Salarian,</span>Cantenelli  gestured to the Slarian with pale green skin,<span style="color: Blue">Is Dr. Benuut Mordus. He's our medical officer and biochemical specialist.</span><br/><br/>The Salarian nodded curtly.<span style="color: YellowGreen">A pleasure to meet you.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">The lovely Quarian to your right is Shira'Va. She's... our specialist.</span>Cantenelli paused as he introduced her, not quite sure of what title to award the Quarian.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Keela Se'lai</span>She said and  tucked the shotgun back onto the small of her back.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">I am Falkris, the Captain's Bridge Officer and Gunnery Chief.</span>The Turian introduced himself, sticking the pistol back to his hip with a rough click.<span style="color: Red">Do not expect the Captain's pleasantries from me... Human.</span>He growled, letting his final word grind form between his mandibles in suppressed disgust.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">And Firas.</span>Cantenelli introduced.<span style="color: Blue">He's the head of our ground team, who are presently absent.</span><br/><br/>The airlock behind Firas opened again, revealing a startlingly attractive Asari in tight black.<span style="color: Purple">I'm sorry... did I miss something?</span>Ashana asked. Everyone turned and looked at her. Ashana glanced briefly at Firas for an introduction.<br/><br/>Cantenelli nodded a brief hello.<span style="color: Blue">As much as I would like to extend pleasantries further, we need to get to work. Mickey, find us a docking yard for repairs. Airea, get to damage assessment. I want a a list of requisitions within the next four hours. Benuut, get me an assessment of medical and engineering wings. I want a complete requisition list of all needed supplies. Shira, assess the armory. We're accommodating a ground crew now, so see to it that we can support one. Falkris, you have the bridge.</span>Cantenelli shot out the orders in rapid succession, each crew member's sounding off in affirmative response and heading for the elevator or their designated areas.<span style="color: Blue">Kala, I suggest you gather any personal affects from your previous ship if you have any. If you wish to escape here and survive, this will be your only opportunity. If not, then join Airea down in the engineering deck.</span><br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">Firas, Ashana... let's go for a walk. We have a great deal to discuss.</span>Cantenelli said and made for the airlock.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>It was a long walk before Cantenelli decided to speak up. The three made their way through Spire 21, lead by the Human Captain, who apparently knew where he was going. He dodged the crowds of Asari and Volus with ease, passing shops and stock parks on their way to whatever destination the Human had in mind. As the went, Ashana began to notice the landmarks. They were all on the way to the shipping yard that she had chosen as the crew's rallying point before they split up.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">We're going to need to get a few things straight.</span>Cantenelli finally announced as they passed a diner filled with Asari patrons.<br/><br/>Left of them was the edge of the tower, with an extended balcony looking out over the vast city. It was night, at last, though no one could notice. The city was so illuminated by glittering lights that it felt more alive than ever it was beneath the sun. Ashana's eyes lingered on the sight, still marveling at the immensity of what was ultimately a tiny piece of the vast world.<br/><br/><span style="color: Blue">We both have a great deal to fill each other in on. If you have any questions for me about that ship, I suggest you ask them now. I'm sure Makarot left you with a great deal of questions.</span><br/><br/>Ashana frowned. What the hell was he talking about? Makarot had barely even mentioned his name.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Shira'Va tallied up more inventory data on her datapad. The Quarian's mostly sleek black, tight fitting suit was accented with textured and red, meant to evoke a sense of fabric. It was trimmed in gold, a touch that Shira had added herself. The visor was also tinted red, to match the rest of the suit. She always imagined the criss-crossing fabric patterns over the tight, sleek black of her suit made her look sexy. At least, that's what she had in mind when she was having it redesigned. It was tight across all the right places, and she liked it like that.<br/><br/>The Vindicator assault rifle on her back was heavily modified. It had everything from laser sightings to advanced thermal optics and scram rails. It hardly looked like a vindicator anymore. It was sleeker, less like the bullet spewing brick that the gun normally resembled. The shotgun on her back was no different. It was built from a standard Scimitar, but heavily modified. She had managed to reduce its spread and increase it's thermal clip's capacity as well. The gun itself stuck right at the small of her back above her ass. Right below the weapon were the linings running across her hips and pelvis front and back. It resembled the small underwear that was common among dancers in the Galaxy. It wasn't uncommon for her to catch men, and even the occasional Asari, letting their eyes drift onto her or her weapons. She welcomed it.<br/><br/>The inventory that the Captain had ordered her to take was long overdue. They certainly had enough guns to repel boarders, but they completely lacked armor. It was an exciting prospect, having a ground team.<br/><br/>The inventory notes ended up turning into a series of notes to herself. The Captain was going to send her to collect the needed armaments and maintenance gear anyway. Taking inventory was just a formality.<br/><br/>She left the armory shortly after. Falkris had taken up his place at the command post. He looked over the bridge like a perched eagle, holding his arms behind his back. He was always intimidating, and never once had his presence not commanded respect.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">I'm going to go order what we need.</span>She announced as she passed the galaxy map display.<br/><br/><span style="color: Red">Your orders are to take inventory.</span>Falkris spoke up and turned that gaze that could cut glass upon her.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Captain was going to send me to go get it anyway.</span>Shira protested and continued walking. She kept her tone playful, moving with a slight spring in her step.<br/><br/>Falkris growled slightly in frustrated futility.<span style="color: DarkOrchid">Promise not to stare?</span>She asked over her shoulder as she reached the gangway and walked toward the airlock, swaying her hips as she went. Falkris rolled his eyes.<br/><br/><span style="color: MediumTurquoise">Hate to see you leave!</span>Mickey shouted as Shira reached the airlock.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">But love to watch me go!</span>She shouted back as she stepped through the door to Illium. Mickey chuckled as he ran his hands over the console.<br/><br/><br/>***<br/><br/><br/>Shira'Va always liked Illium, even despite the rampant racism and over inflated Egos. It was a pretty planet, and Nos Astra was among the nicest space ports in the Terminus. It was always nice for shopping, especially for guns. Illium, being in the Terminus lacked Council Space's restrictions on weapons exchange. As long as you knew where to look, you could get anything you wanted, and Shira always knew where to look.<br/><br/>She was on her way to talk to one of her 'friends' in the weapons exchange black market when she noticed something distinctly out of place among the Asari. Another Quarian. Shira had a compulsion to talk to other Quarians when she met them, as she rarely did. It was the only thing she really had to remind herself of the world she left behind.<br/><br/><span style="color: DarkOrchid">Keela sa'lai.</span>She announced as she approached the Quarian.<div class="messageTextEndMarker"> </div>