[CupcakeDolly]

~ Solar Winds ~

[CupcakeDolly]

Here's How It Is ~

The Earth got used up. We found a new, much larger solar system and used terraforming technology to create new inhabitable planets. In the Asgard system, the civilized planets on the Edge live in a strained peace with the harsher planets of the Core. Navigating between the dozens of planets are spaceships of all sizes – those who keep the peace, those who attempt to break it, or those who will simply do anything to earn a living. A ship can find you work; a gun can help you keep it.

A captain's goal is simple: Find a crew, find a job, keep flying.

[CupcakeDolly]

~ Laws of the 'Verse

I. I am the thread master. Either obey me, get out, or speak with me privately for spankings.
II.Treat your fellow players with respect. No flaming or trolling. Unless they're really asking for it.
III. No god-modding. Never. EVER.
IV. Any issues with the story, characters, or other players can be brought up with me via PM.
V. Questions, discussion, comments, and general tom-foolery go in the OOC thread located →HERE. ←


...Also, I can kill you with my brain.

Have fun!

[CupcakeDolly]

Characters ~

Skeleton Profile:

If you'd like to apply with a character, fill out the blank form below and send it to me in a PM for approval.

Your character's occupation is either what they do for a living or what they specialize in (pilot, medic, armed combat, flying monkey trainer, etc). You can have a maximum of two occupations per character.

Traits are skills or quirks that are unique to your character (born behind the wheel, low/high constitution, weapons expert, mechanical affinity, hopeless romantic, etc. - be creative!) Maximum of four positive/helpful traits and minimum of one negative trait per character.

For your character's history, tell us anything you think we ought to know about them.

For appearance, you can either describe your character or provide a picture (I draw characters for a small fee - contact me via PM for details!).

Name, age, height, and weight are self-explanatory, ya dumbasses.

[b]Name:[/b]

[b]Username:[/b]

[b]Age:[/b]

[b]Height:[/b]

[b]Weight:[/b]

[b]Occupation:[/b]

[b]Traits[/b]
	[b]Positive:[/b] 
	[b]Negative:[/b]

[b]Appearance:[/b]

[b]History:[/b]

Profiles:

Name: Aria

Username: CupcakeDolly

Age: 24

Height: 5' 7”

Weight: 110 lbs

Occupation: Human Petri Dish

Traits:
Positive: Instant death on contact (in combat situations), Accelerated learning, Enhanced agility/acrobatics, Strong constitution.
Negative: Instant death on contact (in social situations), Scrawny and physically weak, Royal pain in the ass.
The Blight housed inside of Aria's body affects approximately 98% of the population, especially in the Core. While there's a chance that one might be immune to the virus, it's an extremely small one, and immunity wouldn't be apparent until after Aria had attempted infection.

Appearance:


History: Approximately ten years after the Solar War, planets of the Core fell victim to a deadly virus known as “the Blight.” Victims experience a painful shutting down of their internal organs, and die in as little as one day. The origins and cure of the virus are still unknown.

Before the virus' sudden and violent introduction to the Core, a research facility known as ZevenGen on the planet Freyja had begun a long-term project involving the creation of biological hosts for certain diseases. Seventy-two human fetuses were genetically engineered and raised for the sole purpose of serving as hosts. Twenty-three years later, only one of the hosts remained: A female they called Aria.

Though obviously very bright, Aria's erratic temperament was difficult for the doctors and scientists to handle for most of her life. Around her twentieth year, she suddenly became very complacent and cooperative, under the direction of a newly hired doctor. It wasn't until three years later that ZevenGen realized they'd been infiltrated by an enemy spy and had the doctor captured and put to death. By that time it was too late; the second generation of human hosts still in the process of growing had been tampered with and destroyed, and Aria – the only remaining host for the Blight – had escaped from the facility.

Aria processes information quickly, and can learn new skills with very little effort. She doesn't easily associate with other people, and expresses disdain and jealousy for the freedoms and joys that they take for granted. The Blight living inside of her spreads through touch, so she wears thick clothing and gloves to prevent killing everyone she encounters.

Aria remains at large and three different sources – ZevenGen, the Edge Council of Seven, and an anonymous group somewhere in the Core – all offer an enormous bounty if she is delivered alive and intact.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Name: Jack Axton

Username: Salone

Age: 32

Height: 6'

Weight: 198 lbs.

Occupation: Captain, Pilot*

Traits:
Positive: Resourceful and resilient, not easily bought. Able to maintain a positive outlook in a variety of situations. Can take a large amount of both physical and mental punishment.
*
Negative: Has wrecked every vehicle he has ever piloted. Has had too many prosthetics and implants than is legally allowed to replace damaged limbs and organs, and owes quiet a large sum on them. Occasionally has issues with said limbs due to their 'shady' procurement and installation, and lacks the technical aptitude to keep them functioning by himself. Is also too curious for his own good and can be astoundingly oblivious at the same time. Also has a slight addiction to alcohol to make him forget the overwhelming amount of debt he has.

Appearance:


History: Jack got his start in bad luck in the cockpit of an ancient crop duster. After crashing and losing a leg in the aftermath, he applied for military service. Given a synthetic replacement, he signed on to fly fighter craft. After crash landing due to faulty maintenance, he was badly wounded and had to receive a synthetic lung and half a set of prosthetic ribs. Not knowing where else to put him, military brass selected him for their 'Experimental Craft' division. After several other crashes due to ship failure or human error, he was given a medical discharge on account of his numerous transplants. Left without a right arm, he took his last bit of earnings and bought a used ship.*

And promptly lost it when the engine blew in low atmo.

Left with no money and in even worse condition, he borrowed a large amount from unscrupulous sources. Using back alley surgeons to put him back together and conning his way in to used shipyards, he was able to secure another vessel. Now he's been busy securing a crew who can do the flying for him, and help him secure enough credits to pay off the rather large debt he owes on his very life and ship.


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Name: Omega Sentus Valeran
Nicknames: "Meg", "Maggie", "Mag", "Mega", "Mags", "Omi"

Username: Arrikanez

Age: 25

Height: 5'8"

Weight: 129 lbs

Occupation: Chief Medical Officer / Star Private Detective

Traits
Positive:
- Young for the Job: Most doctors are not out of medical college until they are at LEAST 30. Omega has shaved TEN years off of this by being brilliant, and it shows in his work.

- "Elementary, My Dear": Omega has a near Sherlock Holmes level of observation and intellect. He can tell a great deal about someone just by putting two-and-two together in his head. For example, when he met Jack, he could tell he had been to the poorer parts of town, that he was looking for a crew, and that a good deal of his ventures went awry - just by observing the way he held himself, some dirt on his boots, and the way his hair was disheveled.

- Cool Head Under Pressure: Almost a requirement for a doctor, Omega has the ability to remain calm and collected during a crisis, even when he doesn't exactly know what he's supposed to do.

- Medical Miracle Worker: Because of his lack of job, and an under-challenging career planetside, Omega has had a lot of time to do research, and brush up on techniques and usage points for instruments that most other doctors shun as 'too dangerous' or 'will never work'. As a result, most anything that's wrong with you, he can fix. It just takes some time, effort on his and your part, and a whole lot of trust.

Negative:
- Can't Resist A Challenge: Like Holmes, Omega becomes bored very easily. He needs something to occupy his mind and body almost constantly, or else he tends to 'invent' challenges for himself. This means that when a mental challenge DOES come along, he pretty much HAS to follow it. His mind won't allow him to ignore it.

- Not Good With Guns: Despite training himself how to fight in hand-to-hand, Omega is NOT good with firearms. He can aim and shoot in a calm, steady manner - with a lot of time to line up the shot. In a combat situation, he might just shoot YOU without meaning to. However, he's good with other weapons.

- Doctor, Heal Thyself: Omega doesn't exactly have the best constitution in the world. He gets sick very easily, and - while he deals with pain alright - isn't USED to pain. There are parts of his body [his heart, his lungs] that don't work at full capacity due to the dubious origins of his birth, [explained in 'History] but he tries his hardest to keep up.

- From The Core / From A Freak: A social stigma that far outweighs his young age, is that he was born on the Core - and when he's angry enough, his carefully cultivated manners and accent slip back into the backwoods, almost southern twang of his birth. Added to this, both of his parents were male, and one of them was genetically engineered to be able to give birth BEFORE he found Omega's 'Mother'. So not only his parents, but he himself, is often regarded as a freak.

Appearance:

Omega looks a bit odd at first glance. A lot of this is because of his genetically altered father, but some of it is just plain inexplicable. There have been theories that his "Mother" had been ingesting poisonous plants during his pregnancy, or some curse or another was laid on him - but whatever the case, he looks how he looks.
Omega's hair is literally a myriad of colors. White as the base, but Red, Orange, Yellow, Blue, Indigo, and Violet throughout, with black tips. That being said, his hair is really the most complex part of him. His complexion is fair, and his eyes are bi-colored. One eye is a pretty gray-silver, and the other is golden [not uncommon for the part of the planet on which he was born]. He keeps his hair short, but it seems to be impossible to tame, always giving him a shaggy 'just got out of bed' look that no amount of gel or combing seems able to fix.
Clothing-wise, he almost always wears his white labcoat, and a fancy stethoscope around his neck [old earth-standard, as it was given to him by one of his favorite teachers]. Whatever else he wears under that is usually casual, and he is generally wearing boots.

History:
Omega means last, and this boy was supposed to be the 'last' child his "mother" would have. Eight kids later, that's not exactly true. However, despite his name, Omega has become the FIRST in his age-range to become a full-fledged Chief of Staff in the medical field, and the FIRST of his class to receive an invite to work aboard a vessel. This is also an amazing feat, because the Valeran family - inhabitants of one of the planets of the Core - has always refuted space-travel as a waste of time. Omega doesn't exactly find this true.
The boy was born to two males - one of whom came to the Core planet to escape testing, and had already been genetically engineered to be able to give birth. It was a natural to DO so, when he fell in love with another man on that planet, and thus Omega was born - the second out of ten children born in this manner - although most of the others stayed with their parents.
He studied at a backwoods medical school until a visiting dignitary from one of the other worlds caught him treating a group of kids for an infectious bacteria [without tools, mind] and offered him the chance to attend a real college for medicine, with himself as the patron. His concerns were for his family, which were taken care of quite nicely by a large stipend given to his out-of-work father, which allowed them to move out of the slums, and into one of the more populated cities on a planet of the Edge. Once that was taken care of, Omega gladly accepted the chance to become 'A real doctor, capable of doing good for everyone'.
The boy graduated with honors far sooner than anyone else his age, and was almost immediately snapped up by one of the high-class hiring agencies, nearly the moment he graduated at the tender age of twenty. He worked first for a cargo ship, then progressed up the ranks in skill and command, until he was working as Chief Medical Officer on a large passenger ship. He was on 'Planetside Leave' to visit his parents when the ship was attacked and destroyed by pirates. Amazingly, most of the crew and passengers survived through use of lifecraft, but the ship itself - and the job aboard it - was summarily defunct, and he was forced to look for work again.
Now twenty-five, it has been a year since he's worked aboard a ship, although he has been keeping himself busy with a small practice on one of the inner planets, tending the wealthy for illnesses real or imagined.
Somewhere in that year, he discovered that he has insane talent not only as a doctor, but as a near-Sherlock-Holmes level detective. His skills of observation rank up there WITH that famous fictitious private eye, and not all of the clients through his doors approach for medical reasons....


~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~


Name: Liam

Username: Espy

Age: 19

Height: 5'3

Weight: 120

Occupation: Mechanic, Pirate Artifact Collector

Traits
Positive:

Mechanicking: Liam loves to tinker with and fix things, especially rather ancient-looking gadgets he steals finds.
Observative: Especially with regards to rich-looking and/or gullible people.
Decently agile: Although not as fleetfooted as he would like to be, Liam can still weave his way through crowds to shove his overly-confident self in front of unsuspecting ship captains in need of repairs. Of course, that's not at all due to his small frame...

Negative:

Mechanicking: Is also prone to blowing things up, and usually makes it out of the wreck in time to escape angry captains/patrolling guards. Usually.
Compulsive Liar: His lies get him into more trouble than out of. Perhaps it's because of their sheer ridiculousness?
Physically weak: If you threaten to beat him up, Liam will probably give you what you want. Or at least an imitation of it. In any fistfight, if he hasn't knocked the opponent out in the first half a minute, he's in deep shit.
Lazy dreamer: Instead of actually working, Liam can often be found asleep inside whichever ship he's supposed to be fixing. He's also been caught several times by his employers, just gazing off into space. Ask him enough, though, and he might tell you of the rainbow bunnies and swirling taffy he's been dreaming of.

Appearance:


History:
Picked up off the streets by a kind captain who he had been attempting to rob, Liam lived the next three years of his life aboard a ship as an apprentice mechanic, learning the trade from the crew. Then they stumbled upon some rather difficult times, and, unable to keep up with the repair costs of the ship and getting on in years, the captain sold the ship, with the whole crew, to an old merchant whose spoiled son sought to live the life of a rich captain. Only two months afterwards, the crew had all but deserted, and Liam was once again left to fend for himself.

...But with the added knowledge of ship repairing.

And only another year later, he has been kicked off as many ships as he has contracted (as a mechanic), and now seeks to simply repair docked ships...while scrounging through their contents and picking out the shiniest baubles, which he hawks around docking points, hoping someone gullible enough will buy them.

[CupcakeDolly]

~ The Asgard System

The Edge

The outer Edge planets reign over the Asgard system. On the Edge, life is good, flush with technology. The rich and prosperous have laser guns, holo-scanners, and flying cars. Food, shelter, and health care are readily available – which gives people time to think on more than the basics. Their culture focuses on science and knowledge, and their superior weaponry makes them the reigning military force. They rely primarily on lunar and wind power for their computerized machines.

The Core

On the innermost worlds, known as the Core, folks have to make due with the most basic technologies. Having been closest to the harsh sun, planets on the Core were the last to be populated, and its pilgrims have had to learn to adapt to the heat. The newest of the terraformed worlds use machines that run on coal and steam, rather than microchips. Lacking hovercars, people ride horses and trains. Lacking lasers, they make due with bullets. Survival and innovation take precedence over education and manners.

Government

Though the Core is given a sense of power over its own territory by assigning independent governors to each planet, the Edge – ruled as a whole by the Council of Seven, and backed by an impressive armada of high-tech fighter ships – hold true power over the Asgard system. The two territories rely heavily on each other. The Edge provides medical supplies, access to the Cortex and other vital technologies, and factories for refining raw materials. The Core provides agriculture and mines with precious minerals. Both wish to avoid any disputes, despite their differences, though the Edge seems intent on keeping the Core planets from becoming too self-reliant.

The Cortex

Strung between the Edge and the Core is the Cortex – a system-wide information network that can be accessed on ships or groundside with a terminal or dedicated sourcebox. News, communication, law enforcement bulletins, and online shopping are all available. Nodes are placed throughout the system, allowing for unrestricted information to be accessed just about anywhere by just about anyone.

Cults

Religion has all but vanished in the process of settling the new system, and in its place small but powerful cults have risen. The two primary cults are the Circle of Light and the Sons of the Dark, named so for affiliation with either the Light or Dark beings. The Light beings are said to be on the side of the humans, and provide miracles and assistance through the use of their superior powers. The Dark beings despise humans, and their followers seek to rise above their humanity while destroying those they find unworthy.

Ships

Ships come in all sizes – from giant space stations to tiny single-passenger shuttles – and they serve just as many different purposes. Most are used for shuttling passengers or cargo between planets. Most combat ships are commanded by the Edge military, though smaller mercenary vessels are not uncommon. Special documentation and permission is usually required for transport between the Edge and Core territories. Landing illegally on a foreign world, transporting illegal cargo, or simply picking a fight with the wrong people automatically brands a ship and its crew as pirates – a crime punishable by death.




Everyone has their motivations, a place to go, and a story to tell. It's a big world out there.
Freedom is waiting.

[CupcakeDolly]

{Open and Still Accepting!}

Come join us, kiddies!

Form a line! One at a time, please!

[CupcakeDolly]

Repairing a wrecked ship on Limbus was no easy task. The little moon orbiting like beautifully tuned clockwork around the border planet of Hubur served as a port for all ships entering or leaving the Edge and Core territories. As such, there was very little emptiness to be found on its surface, only a sea of bodies and machinery filling the landscape with constant motion and activity. For a newcomer, navigation through the winding roads and massive crowds was made impossible without assistance from a portable Cortex device. Mechanics set up shop at every intersection, merchants peddled food and wares in loud shouts, and Edge Units patrolled languidly in groups of two or three in front of every row of docks. Most everyone did their business - whatever it may have been - with a gun in hand or hidden from sight.

For a ship such as Vera, parked precariously on her belly (after her landing gear had been stripped away by a hasty landing), getting airborne again among the cluster of people and activity would be a long and tedious process. If there were any outskirts of civilization to be found on Limbus, Vera had certainly found it - though huge crowds still filled the area, and the people within them were more questionable in their intentions and values, and the presence of Units was more noticeably scarce. Mechanics and parts brokers alike hovered near Vera and other nearby wrecks, pacing impatiently and waiting to swoop in at the slightest hint of vulnerability.

All the while, hidden from the physical world, the Cortex flashed with news and bulletins on local screens and handheld devices, faster than any human could reasonably see. Among the usual highbrow stories from the social elite, sales and advertisements from shopping networks, and the occasional nonsensical gibberish from cult groups, a network reserved specifically for law enforcement and bounty hunting showed a multitude of faces and statistics in quick succession. Among them were a thirty-something man with a scarred face and neck, and a gaunt young girl in a hospital gown.



Though all of this might have been crucial knowledge, Aria knew nothing about any of it.

Because Aria was inside of a box.

[Salone]

The front hatch to Vera lowered lazily, as if the hydraulics were about to give. A battered figure emerged from the battered ship. Jack Axton coughed, trying to clear the smoke from his lungs. He took a moment to get his breath back, surveying the suspicious crowds before him and speaking to no one in particular.

"Well, we stuck the landing. And got stuck landing. Not the best landing in the universe. But we landed, and that's what matters."

He leaned against the side of the hatch, looking up towards the rest of his ship. It was a banged up wreck, coated in more scorches from batched reentries than it was replacement metal to cover said burns. The actual ship had never been pretty, but it didn't need to be. It was an 03-K64 "Albatross" class transport. The class name had been fitting for the series, as they took a lot of the bird's characteristics. The upfront cockpit dipped down a bit at the front to give full view to the pilot. It was a medium size transport, but appeared squat due to the size of the fuselage. Two small overhung wings protruded from each side, ending in thrusters that seemed almost comically large for the small ship. The end of the ship grew smaller as it progressed, tapering off before flaring up in to a tail section, with a middle fin and twin angled wing portions on either side. The sides of the fuselage bulged at the extreme edges, rounding out before flattening to the bottom part of the ship. And at the moment, the ship was resting on its actual bottom. The landing gears had been lost in Jack's horrid landing, and weren't the only things that would need to be fixed. He certainly had his work cut out for him.

He grinned as he looked away from the top part of his ship. He let out a small chuckle, as if someone had told him a joke.

"Yep, will have to grab that too. Guess I should tell the doc. But what would a note say, Vera? 'Mechanic's dead, details later.'? He's busy doing...doctor things. I'll be back, don't let anyone in unless I would. And that's them who can pay."

With a press of a button he slipped in to the crowd, not bothering to make sure the front hatch raised this time. He melded in to the hustle and bustle to find what all captains need at one point or another: parts, people, and money.

And this time, Jack Axton needed all three.

[CupcakeDolly]

The nearby vultures working on the crusty edges of Limbus were still chattering about the ship that had half-landed, half-crashed into port, but Orel Shaw had been fortunate enough to be close to the heap when it gave out. The man had little, if anything, going for him - he wasn't particularly bright or talented, and his body was lengthy and face scarred with pockmarks - but his fantastic luck was indisputable, and likely the only reason he could hold a job working for a famous (and infamous) local tradesman.

When the ship's hatch had opened, Orel pounced, pushing aside another vulture to step up beside the man that had just emerged, matching his pace as he walked. "Howdy, traveler! I was just over there admiring your landing. Looks like you've got a bit of a..." he paused to search for an appropriate term, "...steaming heap of shit to deal with there. If you've got a need for spare parts, my boss's set up not too far over. Maleady's his name, and he's got everything you could need." Orel paused here to take a deep breath from his tireless banter then continued on in a rush. "Tools, armor, nav systems, engines, compression coils - those little suckers give out on everyone, but Julius' the only one for miles who's got 'em - we can even find you cheap labor, and if we don't got it, we can get it! What do you say, sir? I can walk you over there now and get you all fixed up and on your way."

[Salone]

Jack's eyebrows shot up as the man had pounced in to his very close personal space, climbing higher and higher as he continued talking and were in great danger of packing up their things and moving to just under his hair line. He gave the man a moment to catch his breath before he replied, his facial expression settling in to a devilish grin.

"Well now, that's a mighty fine offer. Problem is these parts I need aren't spare. It's what I need to fly. But you got what I need, and if the askin's fair, I think we can deal."

As he spoke, his eyes darted quickly through the rest of the hustle and bustle, looking for the other man that this haggard fellow had shoved out of the way. He had half a mind to give his business to the unlucky hawker out of sheer principle, but he didn't want to stray far and he was slightly afraid that this unseemly person might explode if he were to turn down his sales pitch.

[Rainbowfox Ari]

Omega heard, felt, and smelled the rough landing from his little doctor's office in-ship, and waved away the smoke and steam that came pouring inside. He had been working on a new set of prosthetic limbs, as well as trying to form some semblance of order to the medical records he had on file for the... well, they couldn't really be called a crew yet, could they? The rainbow-haired genetic freak of a doctor had hooked up with Jack about a year ago, and they had been traveling, just the two of them and various mechanics, since then. It was high time the ship gave out though. As he was always fond of telling Jack: 'I put PEOPLE together, and sometimes robotics. I'm no doctor for this piece of junk you call a ship'. Harsh, perhaps, but without new parts in most every port, the thing had been giving them trouble from the get-go.

Sighing and putting down the scalpel he'd been using to fasten a tiny screw, he pushed himself up, and flipped on the air vent system before grabbing his stethoscope off one of the counters, hanging it around his neck, and shoving his hands in his pockets. It was time to find the wayward Captain. This time planet-side, he knew Jack planned to pick up personnel, and there was no way any of them were coming aboard the craft unless Omega had a good look at them. Physically, it was to reduce the cost, or calculate the cost, of medicines he'd need to buy and supplies he'd need to salvage. But there was a mental factor to it too. That was simple; if he couldn't stand the man or woman? They weren't coming along.

He exited the ship amid smoke, and noticed that the mechanic appeared to be limp and lifeless. A quick pulse check confirmed the obvious.

"Dammit Jack..." he muttered under his breath. "That's the third one this hunk of junk has claimed."

He kicked the ship for good measure, upon which one of the pipes that had been hanging on for dear life above, fell two inches in front of him with a clatter.

"Yeah. New parts, new people. And this time..." he trailed off as he caught sight of the Captain weaving his way through people, and raced to catch up to him.

"THIS time let's not kill anyone!" he said as he reached the man. "You know that's the third mechanic in a year? That's a bit much. That hunk of junk is a flying death-trap. I'd just gotten his records in order too. Who's this?"

He finally seemed to realize he was interrupting Jack talking to someone, and his eyes immediately narrowed. A broker, most likely. Judging by the planet they were on, possibly a swindler too. Most swindlers were wary of a genetic freak like Mega - it was why Jack kept him around, probably.

[CupcakeDolly]

Orel grinned at the newcomer, both at his appearance and out of friendliness. "Welcome to Limbus, stranger. Both ya'll follow me, it's just over here."

"Just over here" happened to be about half a mile away from where Vera had landed. It was an unassuming structure comprised of a shaded warehouse and a large dock for accomodating anything as large as a cargo ship. Outside of the building, a man stood with a scowl on his face and watched a vanship driving away, leaving unwanted cargo and a trail of dust. The large man turned to a smaller, oriental worker (a quiet man known only as 'Beetle') who'd set about loading their new cargo onto a forklift. "I know that says 'struts,' but it ain't. Set it aside from the rest." He saw Orel returning with fresh prey and the man tensed, cracked his neck, then worked up a half-smile and walked up to greet them.

"Orel, get your ass over t' helping Beetle with that cargo. Gentlemen!" He addressed the scarred man and the freak with the colored hair. The former seemed familiar somehow, though he couldn't place why, and was obviously the easier mark. The latter, however strange he looked in appearance, seemed sharper than his companion. "I'm Julius Maleady, The Tradesman." He said the title in a way that emphasized its capitalization. Julius was a well-built, muscular man. He could have been handsome if his face had not been ruined by what must have been several sharp and heavy objects. He carried himself and spoke in a way that asserted his dominance and control, and promised pain and suffering should anyone choose to ignore either. However, his words were warm and welcoming when he spoke, perhaps even genuinely so. "What can I help you folks with?"

[Salone]

Jack put out his left hand to shake Julius'. He grinned, believing in earnest that this was his quickest way of getting airborne again.

"Jack Axton, a pleasure. Now what I'm needing is a whole mess of things. Compression coil and a spare for an 'Albatross' class freighter is the single biggest thing I need right now."

He nodded, seeming pleased until an afterthought reminded him of all the other things he needed.

"No, I'll be taking that back. There's a few other things. Going to need two sets of aft landing gear struts, a tube of mylar hatch sealant, power-applicators, and a temp regulator. And one of those long stick things with a claw on the end that you use for grabbing stuff in hard to reach places."

He nodded again, feeling good with himself and not realizing how idiotic he looked at the moment.

"If you can get me all that, get me flying again, then I think we're in business,'Jules'."

[Rainbowfox Ari]

"Now wait just a minute." Mega interrupted, having smelled a fish. Genuine although this man's demeanor may be, he had a keen eye, and was fairly sure some of those parts WEREN'T. Namely, the parts they were being shown just now. He may have been a doctor, but he was pretty well-versed on ship-parts. He'd gone over the blueprints for the Vera more times than he'd had patients. That is to say, a lot.

"Alright, Julius. My Captain may be a bit desperate for parts, but as I'm not the one flying the hunk of... " he trailed off quickly, then continued in a different vein. "Because I am not the one flying her, I can afford to scrutinize. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that compression coil is missing a socket, isn't it? The 'cargo bay' struts you're selling are too short for any cargo bay, and I'm imagining came off a single-passenger craft. No way they'd take a landing of our ship. Not to mention some of these things aren't exactly the real deal. They appear to be cobbled-together bits of other ships. Now...."

He steepled his fingers. "Because my Captain is too nice a man to ask himself, I will be blunt for him. If you don't show us the REAL parts, I imagine we will have to take our business elsewhere. So where are you keeping them?"

[CupcakeDolly]

Julius was taken aback for a moment, and he glanced at the merchandise lying around them. Then he let loose a gigantic laugh and slapped a large hand on Omega's shoulder. "'Course, doc, how do you think we keep our prices so low?" He'd assumed the man was a doctor from the lab coat and stethoscope, but perhaps he was dealing with an eccentric mechanic instead. "I won't bother with any swindle, doc. I respect a man 'knows his ships, and I'll get you what you need. We'll just have to talk creds with your captain, and then -"

A loud clatter and a yelp sounded from the warehouse, and Julius turned to see Orel in the distance, staring dumbfounded at something on the ground. "Orel, what in the-?"

"It weren't me, boss!" Orel held up his hands. "It was this shit-for-brains Coreiental hurt his own self!" To which Beetle let out a string of something sharp and angry in a foreign language.

Julius stalked over to the pair, cursing loudly as he did, and shoved Orel backward. "Go deal with them," he barked and knelt beside Beetle, who was on the ground nursing limbs that may or may not have been broken. Orel threw up his arms in frustration and stopped to tilt the crate that had fallen onto Beetle's leg back into an upright position. He fixed the lid back into place and banged it tightly shut with his fist, all without having noticed the human arm that had been hanging limply from the box only moments before.

He approached the two men again, rubbing the back of his neck. "Sorry 'bout that, folks. I'll gather your goods and get you on your way in no time. What was it you needed now?"

[Salone]

Jack's eyebrows rose in alarm once more, feeling entirely too awkward. He leaned close to Omega after the Tradesman had gone to help the hired hand, whispering in to his ear.

"Keep talking like that and maybe he'll give you a discount on account of you being so nice."

He grinned as he straightened up. He caught the tail end of the commotion that was going on, catching Orel's question to him.

"Like I said to Jules over there, I'm gonna need two sets of aft landing gear struts, a compression coil with all its parts, a tube of mylar hatch sealant, power-applicators, and a temp regulator for a thermometer. And one of those long stick things with a claw on the end that you use for grabbing stuff in hard to reach places. Lost an arm under the engine carriage and I haven't been able to get to it to space it out the airlock yet. Not attached to it anymore anyway, got me a new one here."

He chuckled to himself, grinning at both Orel and his own stupid joke.