[Center][color=silver][h3]The Gray Dynasty: Victor, Abigail, Finn, Reika, Mdazi[/h3][/color]

[color=silver]Current Deployment:[/color] Venus [/Center]

The door hissed open as a slightly bedraggled and winded young woman came stumbling into the briefing room, holding a black handkerchief to her mouth as she coughed a couple of times. She took a deep breath, pointed at Victor and grinned. 

“[i]Told[/i] you I’d be on time,” she reported triumphantly as she made a beeline for her luggage. It was clear which ones were hers - the suitcase was horribly beaten up and there was… something else; it was a clunky metal thing, approximately the size of an ice box, covered in stickers with a suitcase-handle. It looked almost industrial and was just as battered as the suitcase.

Victor shot Abigail a warning scowl before turning to address everyone else present in the room. 

“We can leave getting acquainted for later.” he indicated, hinting that he’d be starting with their briefing now that the entire crew had assembled...

“My name is Victor Strade, I’ll be taking on the role of your tactical officer for this hunt. As you’re all aware, you’ve been hand selected by Grays for the purpose of discovering the late Emily’s treasure, which, according to the remaining heirs, is believed to be rightfully theirs.” 

He paused and placed a folder on the table, opening it up to reveal a hard copy of Emily Gray’s will to use as reference. He then continued, “This is an important expedition with a small crew to accommodate our strategy. Due to the contents of the will hinting towards an investigative treasure hunt, a full scale search of our system would be a cost of resources and time. 

"Instead, we begrudgingly have to play Emily Gray’s game and follow the clues which I require [i]all[/i] of you to participate in. We have close to no intel regarding any other crew on the hunt, but we have to expect force to be used against us by any and all of them. From here on out we’re all we have; trusting others can be up for discussion, but ultimately something we want to avoid."

He stopped once more, allowing everyone to take everything in and simultaneously taking this time to get another good look at everyone present before continuing. "Any questions so far?”

“Yeah, I have a question...” Reika, the asian woman in black clothes, spoke up. “It’s pronounced ‘White’, but it’s spelled nothing like ‘White’. It'd got a ‘g’ and an ‘h’, like in, uh, ‘enough’. That’s dumb.” She fell silent looking pointedly at Victor as if she expected something from him.  

“That's 'cause it's not white - it's [I]Wight[/I],” responded Abigail patiently. “Y’know, like a ghost, a spirit... something that's invisible to the naked eye and evades normal men.  A 'g-h' like in 'might', 'slight’, 'fight’, 'light’....” She trailed off quietly, twiddling with her handkerchief before suddenly perking up. “Is our ghost ship on its own or do we get special privileges for trying to bring the Gray's fortune back home?”

“Okay, Ms. Dictionary,” Reika responded, glancing over before someone could answer her pragmatic question, “Got any more words for me?”

Finn shot a worried glance at Strade and the Havikka, hoping that an argument wouldn't break out between the two young ladies.

Victor cleared his throat before the two could further their conversation. “Maybe with the reward we get, you can buy yourself English lessons, Saigyo,” he chirped before continuing with his briefing. 

“I’m glad you asked, Harlow. Our strategy will primarily be covert, that means we have to stick with this mining ship. That also means we don’t want to go around flashing any badges and bragging about our task to people that have nothing to do with it. We can get support here and there, clearance… supplies… yadi-yadi-ya...” he trailed off, wafting a hand to gesticulate the final remark.

“Lovely, our high priority support involves skipping toll booths and avoiding speeding tickets,” quipped Abigail with a smile. “And that's miss Abigail 'Dictionary’ Harlow to you, miss Saigyo,” she retorted jovially, pointing a couple of finger guns at the pilot. Saigyo frowned.

“Yeah, well, good. We got rooms in here?” queried Reika.

“Aye, this better not be another case of us all bein’ crammed into some small room,” Finn chimed in, “I've been in too many ships where all I've got is a tiny bed; it's not good for my back and everyone gets grouchy,” he said as he leaned back against the wall and lit his pipe. 

Reika nodded in agreement. “Hear that, Victor? Everyone gets grouchy.” Saigyo repeated sagely.

Victor furrowed his brows at being called by his first name, responding, “Yes. Harlow has a copy of the ship plans. Harlow, could you kindly?” he asked her, motioning at the table before the group for everyone to see.

“How come she's able to call you Victor...” muttered Abigail tetchily. Raising her voice, she reported, “Whilst I was ogling the ship I found the plans on the database too, so I can send it to anyone that wants a peek.” 

There was a crumpling noise and a slap as she slammed the mess of blueprints down on the table facing the others. “For those who aren't able to interpret the data, I'll give a quick overview - someone gutted a mining Ship and hid a royal class cruiser inside. Must've taken a lot of work to do since the only giveaway are the thrusters on either side, but they could've easily been salvaged for all anyone knows. Everything in here is state of the art... but what I really want to draw your attention to is the Comms system.”

Abigail pointed at one particular paragraph of supplementary print so small that it was hard to read. This was unsurprising, given that some poor engineer had to cram all of the information onto a single A1 sheet of paper for printing. “As it stands there are terminals in every room, corridor and chamber you can think of - even the toilets, be mindful of that - but it looks like I can hook up a set of earpieces for easy communication. Given enough fiddling, I might just be able to extend the range so you can talk amongst yourselves planetside and still send messages to the ship.”

“Very similar to the military hardware we were issued years ago, when I performed combat duties…” the Havikka mused, while sitting on a nearby bench, lowering her cases to the floor. “Will be very useful, presuming the communication antenna does not short-circuit.” 

She turned to the engineer, tilting her head back to look her in the eye. “If your ability to mend wires and metal is of the same proficiency of my mending of bones and flesh, I would doubt that such a thing would happen.”

Reika, still leaning against the wall, looked down at the extraterrestrial, a bemused look on her face. “Wait, [i]you’re[/i] the doctor?” 

Abigail shifted in her seat, giving Reika a dirty look and a quick eye-roll before attempting to busy herself in her blueprints.

Victor quickly chimed in, noticing some minor tension, “Yes, she is. And judging by the personnel file I was given about her, she’s more than competent; something I’ve done with all of you, as well. The importance of this mission is grave, so I’m expecting none of you to faff about. Pick your quarters, set up your luggage, and meet back here to discuss our first course of action,” he practically demanded, eager to get moving. 

Reika shrugged in response, before Abigail spoke again. “I'd call dibs on the big room but their dimensions are exact to the micrometre,” Abigail remarked as she hefted her luggage with a grunt. “Try not to miss me too much, Boss,” she jibed. 

With a polite nod of her head and an equally respectable “Gentlemen,” Abigail made as swift of an exit as her entry into the briefing room at the start.

Saigyo picked up her cylindrical bag and followed after Abigail, giving the Havikka doctor that she [i]still[/i] didn’t know the name of a sidelong look as she went.

The Havikka doctor picked up her cases, and hefted the giant backpack once more. Quizzically, she pondered the girl’s words as she made her way aft to the lower deck access. “I am not gentle, nor a man…”

Stunned by the sudden disappearance of his colleagues Finn let out a puff of pipe smoke before slowly collecting his things and meandering down the corridor after them, with only a quick glance back at Strade to check that he was doing the right thing by leaving.