Truly UnderwayFood Supply StoresConway turned to look at the pilot with consternation on his face. He seemed to have not heard the man's request, glaring back at Supply Officer Gante for another few seconds before he sighed. "Aye, that'd be a grand idea. Arright, Krauss, permission granted. Make sure ya fill out the necessary paperworks. I'll--"
He broke off as Sigrund the medic came barrelling in. "Oh, blast it all," he muttered to her demands. "Ya, ya, we got a spare medical room prepared, if ya can believe it. After tha last ship hit a hundred footer, we had that same issue. Same deck, same place, but on the port side. Ya got it?"
"Conway, sir," broke in Gante. "With all due respect, I'd like to get your approval for the ration plan. We lost one of the small refrigerators when that lightning hit. But with a little finagling, we'll be able to eat just fine. Gotta eat, don't we Cap'n?"
The captain returned his gaze to Gante. "Approval granted. Without full bellies we'll not be gettin' far, will we? I trust yer judgement, Gante. Remember: no preferential treatment to rankin' officials. Crew's got enough to worry about without playin' fav'rites."
"Aye, sir. Thank's for being patient." Gante sighed as he stepped out of the room. "At least someone is. God only knows if the rest of the crew'll stay as calm."
With the supply officer gone, Conway led Krauss out of the supply room by the arm. "Arright, lad. Hop on over to tha hangar. We'll get that reporter over t'ya as well." He frowned, as if in deep thought, before shrugging. "We'll send Holloway, too. Getter off tha ship fer a while so we can get some peace an' quiet."
Main Deck --> Aircraft HangarEdward glanced at Constance with a mix of laughter and confusion. "This is the Red Sector," he began. This was the stuff he'd done his research on. "Since we've been exploring radially outward from the DOC, the UINC divided the exploration directions up into eight sectors. They used to just be called, North, south, whatever, but then the ship captains started coming up with their own names. Now the west region is called Red Sector, because it's where the sun sets each evening. There's also Gazelle Sector, Echo Sector, and others besides." He couldn't think of the names off the top of his head.
"Basically," he continued, shaking his head with a bit of a dry grin, "we have a ways to go before we can start naming things. You'll get your chance, I'm sure. Just not yet."
Samick and Holloway to the aircraft hangar. Faster the better. You're going for a ride.Edward jumped from the sudden PA announcement. It startled him out of his oceanic trance, and he lurched into motion with a gasp. The hangar was at the back of the ship, right next to the helipad. He realized about ten seconds later that he had left Constance in the dust, but he was already halfway there. No point in stopping now.
When he finally found his way into the hangar, he stopped to look at the giant machine with awe. It was magnificent, of course: this entire god damn trip was a collection of miracles. "Uh, hi." He said, getting the attention of someone who looked to be in charge. "I was told to come here for a ride? Are we going up in that bird?"
Main Deck - The HoleA pair of sailors hauled up the rope and canvas to Armas. "Here's yer rope, kid," said Danzig, hefting the coils and knots onto the deck beside the hole. "Nasty business we're in, innit? Rast, hand the man his canvas. And here," The redheaded man pulled a bulky machine off his back. "The machine shop gave us this here chop-saw for the raggedy edges. Can't geddit covered when it's stickin' up like that, eh?"
The man laughed hoarsely and handed the saw to his companion, Rast, who fiddled with the machine until it came to life with a screech. Danzig put an arm around Armas's shoulders and led him away from the screaming sound of metal on metal.
"Now listen 'ere, buddy," said Danzig. "A coupla us sailors are thinkin' we don't much care for how Cap'n Conway has been running things so far. Could'a got us all killed, and whatnot. That just don't seem right, do it now? You see what I'm getting at here?" Behind them, the saw wailed louder as it bit into another little rivet of steel. Talk of mutiny always needed some kind of cover.
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