VIRAL

[CraftyJongleur]

Hakeem rolled his eyes once more. His initial impression was correct, this troll was definitely mentally handicapped in some way. Perhaps a lobotomy way in order? He would have to make a note to consider it once he got his tools back. "Calm down. Don'd pishsh yourshelf. We're a mediocre colony ship, we don'd haff anyfing worff dhem going afder ush."

In truth, he had no idea what the significance of the other ship could be. He had been on ships plenty of times, but he never cared enough to pay much attention. What he did no was that whatever it was would be worlds more interesting than talk to this wretched troll, so he turned away from Vulpes. "I'm going do dhe Shendral Hall do shee whad'sh going on. Feel free to shtay here and cower like a padhedic wriggler." He makes to move towards the door.

[armoredSkunk]

Of course there would be another ship.

The soles of Tugric's heavy boots clopped loudly against the tile floor. His footsteps reverberated poorly against the corridor's furnishings, in some spots more thoroughly than others. But with each step he made, more notes were jauntily thrown into the frenzy, until the dissonance easily made up in irritation what was before lost in the absorbent furnishings and decorations.

He wasn't sure why he was surprised. No, rather, he wasn't surprised in the least. It didn't matter that this was a small vessel, or that it was scheduled to transport a handful of trolls to some unimportant new colony out in the boonies. It didn't matter that the sheer amount of unoccupied space between ports was so great that the chances of happening upon anything at all out here should have been a scarce six parajillion to one. No, as far as he was concerned, only one thing mattered, and it may as well have been the reason the Ios was potentially endangered.

Tugric rounded a corner, and his feet came with him. The poor man's orchestra rose to an all time high, and there was no conductor in sight. His pace hung awkwardly between a brisk walk and an all-out sprint, and the tension only seemed to add to the fiasco of sound. He was headed for the Bridge, as to speak directly with DAIMINN and to get a better vantage point of the situation. Since before the flight had even begun, Tugric was making rounds throughout all layers of the ship, inspecting every inch he could see with the utmost diligence (for how long, who knows. No one saw him board all day.) Were something to go wrong during this flight, it was he who would be held responsible. And rightly so, for the trolls here were now his responsibility. Tugric wasn't quite used to that idea yet, but he was never a troll to second guess himself, least of all in times of possible emergencies. Those times are for action, and Tugric was good at action. It was with this thought that whatever hesitation remained, was fully dropped. The drag in his walk seceded entirely. He was definitely running now.

Around another corner. The room was spread wider now, like a cave. A thousand percussionists rain fire upon their drums. Tugric's feet fell mercilessly on the victimized floor, and the stairs were next. In a heartbeat, Tugric is up them, and stands before the entryway to the Bridge. He thinks? He never memorized the map. However, it is apparent the door requires some heavy-duty verification, so he assumes this is it. Out of breath, he fumbles with the contents of his jacket pocket before extracting his card and slides it into the computerized lock, huffing all the while. Not that he cares.

The time for easy breathing has passed. Tugric McRuss has arrived now.

And that's all that matters.

*click*

[Thunder Reign]

A ship?

Orlath shot up from his horizontal position, accidentally dinging his head against the steel of the bunkwork frame in the adrenaline-fuelled rush. "Fuck!!" The limeblood gripped the site of the sore, a lump rapidly forming underneath his fingers, but the momentary pain was nothing compared to the white hot panic flooding through his thinkpan. A ship. Ships need pilots. What if the pilot is that person?! What if what if what if-
He curled up into a ball, chin wedged between his knees as his latent ability slowly worked it's magic on the noggin bump, and focused his attention on getting his heartrate back to normal. Snippets of other troll's conversation and movement started to filter back into his hearing as the terror subsided, the sound of rushing blood in his ears diminishing by the second. Breathe in, breathe out.

"Shhh. Just being paranoid. Shhhh." He murmured that to himself, far too quiet for anyone else to hear, until the panic had gone away. There was an impossibly huge amount of trolls in space. The chances of the one troll he never wanted to see again being on that ship was astronomically low. And, considering they were a universally awarded Fleet pilot, they most definitely wouldn't be on an unauthorized ship. He had more chance of running into a galactic musclebeast than his ex-matesprit where he was going; there was nothing to fear. "....Ugh." Orlath groaned, shifting himself so that his feet dangled over the bunk, and leaned up against the locker next to his bunk. He was starting to sorely miss his subscription to Troll Netflix already.

[Ayaka]

"H-H-High---"

Pleuis was more than grateful for the DAIMINN's interruption. It gave her more time to organize her thoughts and compose herself from the initial shock of what she had seen when she had located the voice that had responded to her call. The lowblood had been petrified upon realizing that the Mitera she was assigned to bunk with was a highblood. A highblood! Just the thought of it boggled her mind. Why ever would she want to bunk with filth like them? Various scenarios bounced around in her head as she stood there, but she eventually came to the conclusion that she would not question this situation in the least. A highblood wouldn't bunk with lowbloods unless it was their own decision, right? And if it wasn't, she was hardly the person to provide aid in such a situation. It would be pointless to ask if there had been some mistake made. Pleuis cleared her throat, adjusted her glasses and strode forward towards the bunk bed Mitera had slammed her bag onto and unloaded her own bag onto the bunk not currently in use.

The redblood thought it would be wise to give her space, more for herself than anything else. The thought of bunking with a highblood had given her quite a shock, and although it still lingered, it had been somewhat replaced with excitement. Being so close to a fabulous higher blood for the rest of the trip? Such a thought gave her the shivers! She certainly wouldn't fair well closer to the highblood in question.

"Pleuis", she uttered out eventually, her gaze fixed on Mitera. "I-If there is, perhaps, anything you ever find yourself n-needing aid that I could, or would be able to provide, I would be beyond pleased to be permitted to help". Smooth.

[momatoes]

PLOT POINT

Out there, only a few hundred miles away, waited a ship enshrouded in the darkness of space dust. A young red sun, only slightly more than half a lightyear away, gave birth to the occasional flare which, travelling through time and distance, glinted in the ship's windows.

The ship's windows glinted back with frost. Space was cold, so very cold.

___

> DEAR PASSENGERS
> I HAVE DETECTED AND CONFIRMED ZERO THREAT FROM THE UNAUTHORIZED SHIP
> MAY THE REST OF YOUR JOURNEY BE PLEASANT

__________________________________________________

The next plot point will occur after the 86th post.

[TurtleZombie]

Arenya Demios was not shocked to hear about another ship. There were always going to be other ships, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. The news, however, of the said ship being harmless was music to her ears. To celebrate, she did what she always does.

Read.

She steps out of her quarters, minding the small door way and ducking to avoid the very tip of it, with a book in her hand. It was her Limited Edition copy of 'The Diaries of the Blue Blooded Baroness of the Sea: Based on a True Story', with all of the years of worn and tear that any old book in her thick hands would have. It was also, without a doubt, the one book that she would never be found dead without. Oh, all of the romantic twists and turns, the exciting and explosive sea battles, and a protagonist that you can hate so much, but feel so much sympathy for her in the end. There was never such a book as heart turning as this one, and you doubt that there is. But enough about the book, there will be plenty of time for that later. You have a job to do. You, need to check up on the crew.

As you are reading, of course.

With no fanfare, and even less subtlety, Arenya ducks into the main bunks, placing herself against the closest wall, and traces the room with her eyes. With not a single word being said, she flips open her book, and starts to read, without a second wasted. It was getting close to her favorite part, where the protagonist is attacked by a fire breathing dragon, ridden by her black-prospect, a blind legislacerator. Oh, to imagine that ship burning makes your poor heart cry, to see such a beautiful piece of woodwork go down in flames. It's a time like this when you realize how much you loath creatures like dragons, and fire in general. Destroying everything precious to you, all of which is extremely flammable. Especially the pages that you flip through as time goes by. Every once and a while, she pokes her head out from the book, to dart her eyes to each of the room's inhabitants, to remind them just who is here.

[MostlyHarmless]

A furious Sileia stormed down the ship's corridors looking even more foul tempered than she usually did. Her footsteps were fairly loud considering that she wasn't wearing any shoes. This was the price she paid for having bootkind in her strife portfolio. Despite her protests security refused to allow her to keep the boots on her feet.

Finally she arrived at her sleeping quarters and haphazardly threw her bag to the floor. It seemed that her bunkmate was out at the moment. Just as well really since she wasn't in a particularly sociable mood. She plonked herself down on the bed completely ignoring DAIMINN's announcement. She couldn't care less about unidentified ships if she tried. The only thing she cared about right now was a good smoke. She lit herself a cigar and took a long satisfying drag.

[Blank]

Danaus listened to the public announcements with interest. She crossed the large room to other side and peered out the windows, looking for any sign of the ship. She scanned the distant star field. The fate of an unauthorized ship not sanctioned by her Imperious Condescension would make great footage for her documentary.

She thought she saw a light twinkle and snapped her camera on it, zooming in as far as she can go. It still looked like a dot of light just like any other star. For all she knew it was a star she was looking at. That doesn't matter. Once the footage is edited it will be whatever the voice over says it will be. The magic of authoritarian cinema.

With that done, she skipped out of the rec hall and into the corridor to start taking a video tour of the ship.

[BenevolentDemon]

"Yes..." Mitera trailed off as she unzipped her bag. It was mostly dresses and a few books, along with her husktop and phone. It was a short voyage, after all, not much would be needed. Still, although her cargo was practically worthless, she would be heartbroken if any of it went missing. She was more than a bit concerned that it would be stolen. Lowbloods couldn't be trusted, after all. She began to pack her things into a locker as DAIMINN's message chimed, conversation forgotten until her lusus gave a little yip and scratched at her leg. The little dog was used to keeping his absentminded charge on track.

"Ah, yes, right, right." Mitera shook her head and shut the locker with a slam, turning back towards Pleuis. "Do you know anyone important? I need to speak them. Sort things..." She stopped talking, distracted, and turned her attention to Sileia, crossing her arms and glared very pointedly at the lowblood. Mitera did not approve of smoking indoors. Or out of doors, for that matter. It was improper, especially in the presence of a highblood.

[MostlyHarmless]

It didn't take long for Sileia to notice the highblood giving her the evil eye. What was she even doing here? Weren't these supposed to be lowblood sleeping quarters? As hilarious as the idea of nobility being forced to bunk up with the lowly common folk was, the thought of sharing a room with a damn highblood didn't sit well with her. She guessed that the little yappy thing was her lusus. Pretty runty looking custodian for somebody of her caste.

She took another long drag from her cigar just to rub it in her face, before she finally adressed her. "WAN7 ME 7O OPEN A WINDOW?" She asked sarcastically.

[Ayaka]

Beaming at the answer she received, Pleuis busied herself with unpacking as the conversation began to dissipate. She flinched as she glanced up and around to notice another highblood! The seadweller didn't seem to be bunked there, but was rather peering over her book regularly to check on them. The redbloods heart pounded in her chest, and she kept her eyes to her bunk in order to eliminate the possibilities of maintaining eye contact. As much as she'd love to run over there and talk to the superior being, it would be rude to seemingly flee from the company of Mitera, even if their conversation had faded. The seadweller probably did not require her assistance anyways, as her current position seemed to be quite vigilant, and all she possibly needed out of Pleuis was to observe good behavior. That was doable.

The reblood was so focused on her train of thought that she almost didn't notice Mitera speaking to her again. She looked stricken for a moment before returning to her regular 100-watt smile which was, of course, specifically for highbloods. "Well...," she began, her gaze flickering to the highblood leaning against the wall. Would she qualify as a solution to Mitera's problem? Oh, there was no hurt in trying. Any highblood was someone important, after all. Pleased that she had a solution, Pleuis was about to inform the indigoblood on where she could find such a person when she heard the sarcastic inquisition of a certain cigar-wielding lowblood.

"Wh..." Pleuis murmured, her instincts urging her to lash out at the yellowblood for even daring to talk to a highblood in such a tone. With a clenched jaw, she gave herself a mental kick in the rear. There were two highbloods here. They could handle it.

[BenevolentDemon]

Mitera hadn't noticed the seadweller's entrance, nor had she noticed Pleuis' attempts to draw attention to it. A mind as singular as hers could only focus on one thing at once, after all. She turned fully towards Sileia, arms crossed, lips pursed in a tight, false smile. "You are going to put that out," she said slowly, as if talking to a moron. Her voice was falsely cheerful and calm. "Do you understand me?"

[MostlyHarmless]

Sileia spotted the other highblood from the corner of her eye. This place was really starting to stink, and it wasn't because of the cigar. She did indeed put it out, but not before taking one last good puff just to spite her. She then forced a little smile of her own "SO WHA7 BRINGS YOU HERE MISS HIGHB7OOD? INSPEC7ING 7HE 7ROOPS? OBVIOUS7Y YOU WOU7DN'7 BE ASSIGNED 7O 7HE 7OWB7OOD S7EEPING QUAR7ERS RIGH7?"

She punctuated her sick burn with some rather deliberate laughter, as though she had just told some utterly ridiculous joke and was expecting Mitera to laugh along with her at such a preposterous notion. "I MEAN... JUS7 HOW BAD7Y WOU7D AN HONORAB7E HIGHB7OOD 7IKE YOURSE7F HAVE 7O SCREW UP FOR SOME7HING 7IKE 7HA7 7O HAPPEN?" More deliberate laughter soon followed. Sileia's claws were out on full display. She may not have been able to relieve her stress through smoking, but it seemed as though she'd found herself another outlet.

[BenevolentDemon]

The highblood's smile broadened, despite the fact that she was gritting her teeth in barely-restrained fury. This had not been a good night. This had not been a good night at all. It had been dreadful. Not only had she been called a lowblood, she had nearly been sick during takeoff and had been sent to the lowblood's quarters. This disrespectful scum might just be the last straw, the final thing that drove her to utter insanity. This was not how things were supposed to work.

Mitera took a few steps toward her adversary, ignoring her tiny lusus as he grabbed onto the hem of her skirt with his teeth and tried to pull her back. He was far less concerned with status than she was, and a bit more concerned with keeping his charge safe. "I don't think you understand who you are talking to," she said, working very hard to keep her voice level and calm. "I can make your life very difficult, lowblood."

[Sandvich King]

==C Hm...

Nordin pauses to think for a moment. ==C That other ship probably doesn't mean much, but it'd be prety col if we do aproach it. Do ya think we wil end up trying to board it if it's hostile? Probably not. As interesting as that'd be, I don't think we're wiling or able to engage in full combat during a transp-

Nordin's sentence is cut short by DIAMINN's second announcement. ==C Guess that answers that. Oh wel...

He glances around at the equipment in here. Looks like he's seen it all for now. ==C What was it you were sayin before? You gona stick around in here or do ya want to check out the rest of this weirdly-painted ship? That's what I'm gona do for now.

[TurtleZombie]

Arenya, the ever-watchful bastion she is, closes the book with a single hand, her eyes locked onto the two trolls exchanging words. Looks like this evening was just about to get just a bit more exciting. At a very slow, methotical stroll, she made her way to the two ferocious purr-beasts with their claws out. It your duty to make things run smoothly, Arenya, she thinks, the fate of ship security is in your hands. At the end of that thought, she found herself towering over the bickering trolls, arms crossed over her chest.

She uttered, in her stern, yet soft voice, "Is there a problem, shipmates?"

[CaptainZaven]

Najake grunted as he lifted his head from the bed. Takeoff was never an easy time for him. The g-forces from the take-off were never (too) bad for his stomach, but definitely messed with his legs. After finally hitting a stable velocity, Najake took care to re-wrap his leg bindings. He was glad that all of his bindings and ointments were in his carry on instead of down with the rest of his possessions in the cargo hatch, because it would be a long flight without them. Unfortunately, all of the bandages made little room for other things. That's the price he had to pay to keep his legs useful. As he finished up his painstaking routine, the first announcement came in over the broadcast.

--Another ship? Should just some scrap-heap sailing off into space.-- Sighing, he walked over to the restroom to relieve himself. He sighed. Of course the guy with bum legs would have the room furthest from the restroom. At least the tiny ship meant that he didn't have much walking to do, though. He sighed just thinking about how much money was sunk into this widely regarded failure of a ship. Well, that's why trolls need someone to keep an eye on the finances. Najake knows that the funding to this project would have been scrapped as soon as it started looking like it did now. Actually, that may have been part of the issue, he mused to himself. Noting the small, hi-tech camera in the upper corner of the restroom, he dismissed that notion. Nope, just plain old incompetence. Stepping out of the restroom, he heard DAIMINN's voice announce that the other ship was of no threat. --That's sensible, it probably shouldn't even have a shipment in stow.--

He figured that it would be as good a time as any to go on "patrol." While part of him thought that his duty as a highblood to keep the peace was vastly overstated, he did know of ships that had broken into bloody closed circles, with only one or two survivors left afterwards. Loss of capital was never good, and every usable set of arms and legs carried at least some value. Just because he had to observe didn't mean that he should have to do a lot of moving though. The Mess Hall was right next to his quarters anyways, it would be silly of him to not at least stop in before retiring.

Stepping into the mess hall, he noted two of the lowbloods engaged in what seemed to be amicable conversation. One of them seemed to be a good part metal. Najake nodded to himself. Not bad prospects for a lowblood, even being able to afford biometric enhancements. The other lowblood was just that, a lowblood. Nothing notable about her. That spider though... It looked familiar. He'd need a closer look to be sure, though. Their proximity to the snack machine was as good an excuse as any, though, and so without introduction he slithered over as they were talking. --Esscuse me, I was just snagging a snack,-- he said, facing at the machine. He pretended to be looking intently at the choices offered by the machine while trying to sneak a look at the spider out of the corner of his eye. Damned redblood kept on holding it back though. Well, he had time. Still avoiding pleasantries, he eventually just snagged the nut bar that had already been dropped into the chute, walked over to the nearest table and bit into it.

It had cranberries.

He hates cranberries.

[Captain Whosit]

Delfis barely heard Nordin as he spoke, still imagining a campaign of glory against a hostile ship. It was actually DAIMINN's follow-up announcement that snapped her out of her reverie. She tried to cover up her look of disappointment--and a slight blush when she realized that she hadn't been listening to what the green-blood had been saying at all--and respond to the question she was being asked.

"Oh. Um. III wasn't planniiing to stiiick around here," she began, giving the armory one last look-over. "III'm goiiing to--" She abruptly fell silent and her eyes became unfocused, staring out into space. A moment later, she began to shiver and wrapped her arms around her body.

Meanwhile, Deflis' lusus gazed at her with knowing eyes, all three of them.

[MostlyHarmless]

Yep, she definitely hit a nerve there. Sileia's smile had now reached positively shit eating proportions. She found it very difficult to take Mitera's threat seriously considering her sleeping arrangements. Even if the highblood could make good on it, she was being shipped off to the boonies with no shoes. If she honestly thought she could make her life anymore difficult then she was welcome to try.

Before she could make her snappy comeback however, the other highblood finally decided to step in. As fun as this was, Sileia knew better than to let this escalate any further. "NO MA'AM. NO PROB7EM A7 A77" she replied, still oozing smug.

[Orlist]

"it'sh justh routineh, noh needh toh geth jitteryh," Morita responded whist intentionally completely ignoring the presence of the food she ordered. She was incredibly embarrassed that she accidentally did that, but Annisa hadn't commented on it, so maybe she didn't notice? Just to be safe, Morita shifted over a bit, hoping to hide the nut bar from Annisa's line of sight. Why did it have to be a nut bar of all things, anyways? She hated nuts. Well, best not to dwell on it. Keep talking Morita, keep her distracted. "nowh ifh theh shiph happensh toh beh abandonedh, orh ifh ith wash emittingh ah distressh signalh, thenh youh ca-" She was cut off by DAIMINN's second message. Well that was a bit disappointing, she had been hoping for something interesting to happen. "wellh thereh youh goh, nothingh ath allh." She shrugged.

Just then a seadweller walked into the room. "oh heyh lookh, ah highbloodh," she said in a soft tone, "andh he'sh comingh thish wayh." She grinned at Annisa. "quieth nowh, don'th sayh anythingh rebellioush," she winked at her. When the seadweller got to their location, she quickly scooted to the side, replied to his remark with a quick "ofh courseh sirh," and went to Annisa, sitting down beside her. That's odd, thought Morita, he seems to be sneaking glances at Annisa. Holding back a chuckle she turned and whispered to her partner. "heyh Annisah, ih thinkh he'sh goth theh hotsh forh youh."

[Sandvich King]

==C Well I was just thinkin' we could both...

Nordin noticed Delfis space out. ==C Uh... You okay? She was now shivering. He rushed up to her. ==C What's goin' on? Aw no...

He was not exactly frantic, but his expression showed that he was concerned. His question wasn't entirely aimed at Delfis herself, since she may or may not be responsive. He looked over at Delfis' lusus when he finished the question, almost expecting some sort of additional reaction from her.

[Captain Whosit]

Delfis' lusus met Nordin's gaze and made a motion that approximated a shrug. Then she let out a brief "caw," ruffled her feathers, and started preening herself.

Moments later, Delfis came to her senses. Her breathing was heavy and slightly ragged, she felt chilled, but when she put a hand to her brow, she noticed that she was sweating slightly. It was then that she realized Nordin was looking at her with a concerned expression. Somehow, she found that more bothersome than all the strange looks she was used to getting. She put out and arm and took a step back to distance herself from the green-blood.

"No. Um...." She stopped to take a deep breath and tried to focus. III'm fiiine, she said quickly. She looked around the armory until she spotted where she left her lusus' cage. Letting out a sigh of annoyance, she stalked over to the cage and picked it up. "And what do you thiiink you're doiiing?" she grumbled. The crow just responded with a quick caw and went back to preening itself. She looked back at Nordin. "III...." She had to pause. She wasn't sure what she wanted to say or do. So she just decided to abandon the situation. III should go.

Without waiting for Nordin to respond she hurried out of the armory with her lusus in tow. The hallway's paint job made her especially ill right now. Not sure where to go next she just picked the closest door she was authorized to open, which happened to be the door to the showers. Setting her lusus' cage down with a clank, Delfis slumped back against the wall and slid to the floor. Dimly, she retrieved her ship communicator, wondering who, if anyone, she should contact.

[armoredSkunk]

Tugric steps through the door and is greeted by the flashing lights and beeping machinery that powers the Bridge. Overhead, a pair of speakers crackle to life as DAIMINN adresses him.

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-- iosDaiminn [ID] began messaging musselsAplenty [MA] --
ID: > GOOD EVENING TUGRIC
ID: > WHAT CAN I DO FOR YOU
MA: !!!-HELLo, DAIMINN.-!!!
MA: !!!-I hEard yoUr annoUnCEMEntS ovEr thE intErCoM SyStEM and fELt it nECESSary that I CoME hEar what thE nEwS iS.-!!!
ID: > I HAD DETECTED AN UNKNOWN SHIP APPROXIMATELY 34 MINUTES AND 13 SECONDS AGO
MA: !!!-HavE yoU bEEn abLE to dEtErMinE thE ShipS' originS?-!!!
ID: > YES I HAVE
ID: > IT IS THE _HIC KLEDON_
MA: !!!-OnE of oUrS?-!!!
ID: > AN ALTERNIAN SHIP THAT HAS GONE _MISSING IN ACTION_ 4 MONTHS 3 DAYS 19 HOURS 24 MINUTES 30 SECONDS ACCORDING TO _RECORDS_
ID: > IT IS ALIGNED WITH THE ALTERNIAN ARMY YES
ID: > I COULD NOT RULE OUT THE POSSIBILITY IT HAD BEEN HIJACKED AND REPURPOSED
ID: > THE SHIP COMPUTER DID NOT RESPOND TO MY QUERIES
ID: > IT SEEMED TO HAVE BEEN COMPLETELY DISABLED
ID: > TO THE POINT THAT THE ENTIRE SHIP IS INCAPACITATED
ID: > IT MUST HAVE BEEN DESTROYED IN AN UNRECORDED CAMPAIGN
MA: !!!-So thE Ship diSappEarS off thE grid for MonthS, and thEn SEEMingLy rEappEarS nEarby oUr fLight path CoMpLEtELy dEaCtivatEd?-!!!
ID: > YES THAT SEEMS TO BE THE CASE
ID: > FOR ALL INTENTS AND PURPOSES HIC KLEDON IS DEAD
MA: !!!-I SEE.-!!!
ID: > I HAVE REPORTED THE SITUATION TO THE ORIRI PORT CONTROL BUT THEY HAVE PROVIDED NO FURTHER COMMENTS OR ADVICE
ID: > IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW
MA: !!!-I MUSt Say, thiS bodES poorLy. I apprECiatE yoU indULdging My qUEStionS, DAIMINN. I SUppoSE at thiS jUnCtUrE...-!!!
MA: !!!-My onLy ConCErnS arE that whatEvEr broUght thiS dEStrUCtion on thE KLEdon, wiLL rEappEar to thrEatEn oUr own vESSEL.-!!!
MA: !!!-WhEthEr or not thiS iS LikELy, iS thErE SoME Sort of ContingEnCy pLan of dEfEnCE or aLErtnESS wE ShoULd bE pUtting into pLaCE?-!!!
ID: > I CAN ACTIVE THE SHIP FORCE FIELDS IN PREEMPTIVE DEFENSE MODE
ID: > I CAN ALSO LOCK DOWN VITAL AREAS OF THE SHIP TO ALSO PREEMPT THE POSSIBILITY OF HIJACK
ID: > WOULD YOU LIKE ME TO DO SO
MA: !!!-WELL, it May bE a bit EarLy to pUt any ShiELdS Up. ShipS LoSt to SpaCE Can drift qUitE a wayS, aftEr aLL.-!!!
MA: !!!-HowEvEr, it iS good to know aboUt thE option for thE fUtUrE.-!!!
MA: !!!-What, if any, drawbaCkS woULd LoCking down thE Ship havE?-!!!
ID: > EVERYTHING ELSE WOULD BE LOCKED DOWN EXCEPT THE BUNK AREA QUARTER ROOMS
ID: > ONLY HIGHBLOODS IN THE BRIDGE CONTROL ROOM MAY TOGGLE ACCESS TO ANY OTHER ROOM
ID: > _AUTHORIZED_ HIGHBLOODS
ID: > ELEVATORS BAY AND ESCAPE POD WOULD ALSO BE LOCKED
MA: !!!-HMM, I SEE.-!!!
MA: !!!-AnothEr tooL to pErhapS SavE for a highEr StatE of aLarM. ACtivating SUCh MEaSUrES woULd onLy inConvEniEnCE thE paSSEngErS, aS wELL aS ContradiCt thEir aSSUrEd SafEty.-!!!
ID: > I UNDERSTAND
ID: > IS THERE ANYTHING ELSE YOU WOULD LIKE TO KNOW
MA: !!!-That wiLL bE aLL for now, thank yoU for thE inforMation!-!!!
MA: !!!-I ShaLL go baCk to patroLLing thE intErior of thE Ship.-!!!
-- musselsAplenty [MA] stopped messaging iosDaiminn [ID] --

Both somewhat relieved and perplexed, Tugric excuses himself and steps back into the hallway. He involuntarily peers out the windows into the darkness of space. Perhaps if he were to stare long enough, and squint hard enough, the mysteries weighing heavily on his mind would sort themselves out and put his nerves at rest. But alas, it was not meant to be. His attention is instead drawn by a muffled buzzing in his breast pocket. His communicator? He answers.

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-- sharpeyeSoldier [SS] began messaging musselsAplenty [MA] --
SS: Tugriiic Mcruss?
MA: !!!-YES, that iS ME.-!!!
MA: !!!- What Can I do hELp yoU with?-!!!
SS: You're the hiiighest ranked person on the shiiip, riiight?
MA: !!!-That iS CorrECt. AS SUCh, I havE bEEn taSkEd with Maintaining thE pEaCE dUring oUr voyagE.-!!!
MA: !!!-If yoU havE any iSSUES, I woULd bE happy to hELp Sort thEM oUt.-!!!
SS: Well III miiight.
SS: III'd liiike to talk to you as soon as you can.
MA: !!!-WE arE taLking now, arEn't wE? BUt of CoUrSE, if yoU woULd prEfEr a faCE-to-faCE, I aM CUrrEntLy LEaving thE BridgE and hEading down to thE LowEr qUartErS.-!!!
MA: !!!-IS thErE SoMEpLaCE yoU woULd LikE to MEEt?-!!!
SS: What about the conference room?
MA: !!!-ThE ConfErEnCE rooM? VEry wELL, I'LL bE thErE ShortLy!-!!!
SS: Thank you.
-- sharpeyeSoldier [SS] stopped messaging musselsAplenty [MA] --

She cuts off before he can reply. Tugric places the device back into his pocket and begins to head down the stairs. What could SS want to talk to him about? Delfis, is her name, he recalls. A rather decorated soldier before being demoted, if the records he's read are accurate. The fact she seems intent to go to the very top, instead of just handling it herself (as many a troll are wont to do) or getting help from a bunkmate raises a flag in his head. He spent all that time patrolling, and yet things still feel like they're hanging by a thread. Were he a weaker troll, Tugric McRuss would already be feeling the stress. But even so, something begins to form deep in his chest. A feeling that, for now, eludes his awareness; and so it would for quite some time. Later, if he has time to think back on it, he may come to see it for its' true nature.
Dread.

[BenevolentDemon]

Mitera flinched at the interruption, glancing over (and up, damn, this troll was tall) at Arenya. She did a double take. Another highblood in the lowblood quarters? How had she not noticed the seadweller?? Her eyes widened in shock for a moment until she managed to regain control of her emotions. Never show surprise, surprise lets your inferiors know that there are things you don't know. One cannot afford to show weakness in the Fleet.

She gave Sileia a smug little smirk (that's right, scum, grovel) before turning her attention toward the far more worthy seadweller. "Right, highblood," she said in a tone that may have been a little too rushed and clipped to be considered entirely polite, "we must speak privately. Walk with me." Without even pausing to consider the fact that her superior might not follow her, she turned on her heel and began walking towards the door. Her lusus paused, giving Arenya what was meant to be an apologetic look, before trotting off after her, long nails clicking rhythmically on the ground.

[pseudoParadox]

Even if she had noticed a certain accidentally ordered nut bar, Annisa wouldn’t have had anything to say about it. What, honestly, could be said about that? At the moment, she was more concerned with how she had just made herself look like some whimpering little wiggler. Being weaponless was not doing good things for her nerves. “wouldn’t dre∀m of it.” She was perfectly serious.

She scooted over when Solvex took a seat on the bench, leaving a good two or three foot gap between them. Annisa’s need for personal space was a relic from her youth; she’d never quite adapted to the close quarters of the fleet in that respect. “you think so?” She did her best to keep her voice disinterested, but she wasn’t sure how successful she was. Catching the attention of a highblood was the last thing she wanted, and the furtive glances were unnerving.

Regal eventually returned to his place on her shoulder, watching the highblood with milky blue eyes then scrabbling across her shoulder to peer at the other redblood. His movements were oddly clumsy to one who knew anything about his kind.

Annisa decided she had little patience for games tonight. “there something you need, highblood?”