[hr][hr][color=#cc66ff][center][h1]Tryke Lockley[/h1][/center][/color][hr][center]Location: Repair Dock 17 ---> Main Docking Bays[/center][hr][hr]Tryke nodded at the security team her thanks, with a few of them remaining behind to guard the ship. She smirked a bit to herself, imagining the pilot's surprise when he goes to use his ship, and breathes in helium gas. Chuckling a bit to herself, the thought was almost as great as the event itself, she suspected. 

It'd be a lesson to him, and also, to anyone who [i]dared[/i] jeopardize a ship for something as stupid as lust. Some in the Tower suspected that Tryke cared more about the machines than she did people--in her mind, they weren't wrong. She could understand machines, she could fix them, and she marveled at them.

People? They didn't follow anything logical, they rebelled against order and sense. Tryke could never comprehend them. She couldn't even comprehend herself.

Her PDA alerted her to a message from Craig. Holding her hand to her ear, Tryke nodded, receiving his message. "Hey, Tryke, listen when you get a minute can you do me a favor? Actually, can you do the new T1 a favor? She wants me to get a list from all the department heads on your staff. Things like how long they have been on shift currently, how long since their last leave was granted, if they would like a transfer off the planet to another tower. Those that do, she is asking if they would be willing to wait thirty days before putting in a request. I think she wants time to see if she can get this place in order a bit. I dunno,"

[color=cc66ff]"Right...Yeah, yeah, I'll get on that,"[/color] Tryke murmured. The T-1 had gotten them a new crystal drive, but it still made Tryke feel uncomfortable. The repair crew was a family--she wasn't going to let any new scheme blow up on them.

"Oh and it seems that our little pilot has a new assignment. Tristan's private pilot. Could you see that the ship is outfitted with Tristan's things and such? Move them over from the current ship to Ragari's. Make sure they both will feel right at home,"

[color=cc66ff]"On it, boss,"[/color] Tryke answered, before turning off the PDA. [color=cc66ff]"Fuck, fuck, fuck!"[/color]

Dousing a no good pilot in helium was one thing--but [i]Tristan[/i]?! That was another thing entirely. Tryke ran into the ship, past the guards, making some excuse about needing to fix the ventilation. Standing on one of the seats, she grabbed the helium tube out of the main vents, and then dashed over to the pilot's chair. Installing the helium tube in the vent that would blow on the pilot and the pilot only, Tryke let out a deep breath. 

She walked off of the ship, and motioned to her crew. [color=cc66ff]"His Highness is going on this ship--we need to start moving his stuff over, people!"[/color]

The repair crew stared at her. They all knew exactly what had been done to that ship. None of them dared to voice it, however. There were cameras on the ship that'd need to be installed--but Tryke was fairly confident that Tristan would be amused at the plight of his pilot, as long as he didn't share in it. 

[color=cc66ff]"Now, come on!"[/color] Tryke repeated. She went to the elevator, scanning her card and punching in her code, heading for the main docking bays. The elevator doors closed on her, just moments after the rest of her team joined her. She paused, glancing around at all of them.

[color=cc66ff]"I need to know which ones of you want to be transferred, who needs time off, and how long you've been on shift,"[/color] Tryke added. [color=cc66ff]"The new T-1 is making changes around here."[/color]