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You can always say he passed out from the booze. :)
“No. Bloody. Way. I’ll be dead in two weeks from workload alone. This! This was the best ship of those available?” she sighed, her face buried in her palms in desperation. “On second thought, at least we didn’t get one of the old Thedas-class freighters, though that’s probably because all forty of them were fortunately scrapped nine years ago. That, and you wouldn’t fit, those things were built for midgets.” she tried to find some sliver of good news, gesturing to the meat mountain security officer as she added the last bit. “According to old tradition, renaming a ship brings misfortune. Though I have to wonder if this can get any worse, just look at it. The power core on this thing was considered ancient by the time it was designed.” she shared in response to Mustafa’s question.

“Well, that’s one more ship class for the tech journal, didn’t think these were still found outside salvage yards and museums.” she thought out loud as she entered the ship, taking in the smell of dusty air and mold. “On the bright...ish side, it runs on almost nothing, so we shouldn’t find ourselves out of fuel anytime soon. That being said, you lot probably already figured out where you can find me from my incessant tech-whining, so that’s where I’ll be if needed for something. If you feel a rapid rise in temperature or your organs shutting down due to radiation exposure, run. Then again, in the latter case, don’t bother. Until later.” she finished and headed for the engineering bay.

Astrid entered her new workplace, sighing at the state of it. There was something sad about seeing the heart of the ship like this - silent, empty and cold. Something one would expect from such a place was just missing, like poker without betting. She set her bag down and got to work setting up, removing the plastic foils covering the instrument panels, careful not to upset all the dust they’ve gathered, and dumping them into an unused space next to the door, unaware of their janitor’s rampant OCD and retrieved her inspection tablet. “Don’t fret, little junker, I’ll have you back up and running in a day’s time.” she whispered as if trying to comfort the ship while marking down all the things she had to do before she could clear the ship for departure. “So how about you don’t kill us all in the next hundred years? Sounds good?” She opened a media player in a separate window on the tablet and set up a playlist, one particular track striking her as appropriate to start with. It was shaping up to be a long day.
Cold? You know how hot it gets when the reactor starts melting?
Ship picked, we got the PMs, not much to do but launch.
”No, most people aren’t stupid enough to alienate the top ten students. But even if that were the case, at least I went to school.” she shot back at Josk in the most friendly tone anyone’s ever heard her speak, and even with a smile, ”And point defenses cannot target it if it goes fast enough, hence the gravity assists. Shields…?” she shrugged with her hands, ”Acceptable variable, we won’t know unless someone tries. Or someone gets their hands on the Spire specs and bothers to do the math. Not me, I have stuff to do. And I’ll have you know I was quite good at navigation. At least better than I was at coding, those… those were dark times of my education.”

The cap caught Astrid’s attention by suddenly answering his own question after watching them bicker drunkenly. She didn’t know what he thought about them at that moment, but she would feel confident betting it wasn’t flattering. She didn’t envy his situation at all. He wasn’t just a part of a crew of idiots - he was supposed to lead a crew of idiots. As much as she - under normal conditions - disliked the Satasi, even a sober, clear-minded Astrid would have to agree with the pilot’s assessment of the universe. Dumbies everywhere, indeed.

”Oh, joy, another sorec- soc- witch, damn it, that can mess with brains. Because we needed more of those around.” Astrid groaned before brightening up as an idea passed through the alcohol haze and into her mind, ”But that means she can work for her meals without dragging Tony or a datapad around for communication all the time. Frees her hands up for a broom or… whatever she can do. Five by five, and indeed no static.” Astrid tried to accompany the last sentence with a hand gesture showing five fingers, but her motor controls utterly failed her, resulting in something that could at best be considered a weird wave.
Enjoy your vacation. Going somewhere interesting?
I've given my chioce and reasoning IC, but to recap: Lucy, jack of all trades since they don't really know what they'll be doing for the next 100 (riiiight...) years.
No, we haven't even picked a ship yet, let alone gotten anywhere.
+1 for Discord.
“Oh, I like her already. Her excuses to avoid work are almost as good as mine, if a little more grounded in reality.” Astrid commented once the AI joined the conversation, “Not to worry, we’ll teach you to swear and lie and you’ll be one of us in no time.” She was about to add something when ‘the coffee guy’ said something tech-related that made sense. “Good. You are correct, BUT you are assuming they hadn’t simply prettied up the hull, fixed the basics and towed it here. Half of the ship’s guts could be fried. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard ‘just make it look presentable, I’m selling it anyway.’ back in the day. I’d stay away from the Angel Dust regardless, Party ships have more advanced tech in them, which means more work for me. Unless there’s some hidden problem with the Lucy, I’d go with that. Small, jack of all trades, master of none, and — as Cake pointed out — will be the easiest to modify.” Or kitbash back into working order once something goes wrong, she thought to herself, but didn’t say out loud.

When the Puppet left, she took a deep, theatrical breath. “Ah, clean air, at last. Shall we move on with the selection? You’ll excuse me if I don’t take the word of a party lackey at face value and the more time to double check everything, the easier — or longer — we’ll be able to breathe.” That’s when a big hand landed on her shoulder. She didn’t even have to look to know who it was and her nervous tic returned. Fortunately, his words were friendly and not even directed at her, but at the group as a whole. Still gave her quite a scare though. “Can you not, please?” she turned her head to look at least in the general direction of the mountain’s eyes.
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