2020.11.27 "Come on guys, it's OK."

"Come on guys, it's OK."

A terrible idea occurs to me as I listen to the professional goon begging in the airlock. It is most definitely not OK, and I repress a grin as I slip out my tool kit.

There's a reedy inflection in comm that I'm not sure is accurate or affectation. "You sure didn't look like things were OK back there."

You could almost hear the goon's shoulder's slump. "Yeah, it was pretty tense."

"You're, ah, looking pretty zarking unscathed. You know. Considering."

"...Yeah. I don't know how I'm not dead."

This pause in the conversation sure sounds like other people conversing off-circuit. I wonder if it's accessible...

"Guys....?" Ooop, sounds like the goon is thinking the same thing as me.

"Just hang on a moment, Garvek." Ah, goon's name is Garvek. Or, at least that's what the reedy-voice being calls the goon. Might not be a reliable source.

"Not to be too pushy, guys, but I think we should get out of here before my luck catches up with us."

Oh, I think they're over there...

"...and it's bad for recruiting if we just ditch a crewman." Don't recognize that voice.

"Recruiting? Are you zarking with me? Potential security personnel on another planet aren't going to give a flying zark about what happened to this idiot." Well, at least reedy-voice is just as unpleasant with others, and not just poor Garvek.

"For any old lump of cannon-fodder while we're still making a name for ourselves, sure. But once we start needing really top-notch people, this sort of shit will stain us for a long-ass time to come." Hm. I think I like this guy.

"Shut the zark up, Krunks." Ouch. Someone knows they're wrong. Wonder if Krunks is going to stuff a fistful of righteous insight down Reedy-Voice's throat...

"As you wish, captain." Disappointing, but I guess I don't know the circumstances here.

"Orders?" That's a third voice, reptilian, who sounds like they were having trouble with the awkward pause.

"Gah! Let the impossibly-lucky goon in."

There might have been a grunting noise, but immediately afterwards we can feel and hear the heavy ship bulkhead door cycle. I wish we could get a peek into that big central corridor...

It's a bad idea: too many eyes. Moving carefully would have at least one of them glance over me, and a couple stages of mathematician would have me rooted out in no time. Moving swiftly might flash in-between their glances, but if not then it would definitely flare up their motion sensitivity. I carefully tamper the maintenance shaft access to seal again, and try the next node.

There's a heavy set of steps that ramp down from rushing in the door to end stepping demurely into the space with the rest of the crew. At least, it's all the crew I can smell - so far. "Whew - thanks guys. Had me seriously worried there for a minute."

"Don't thank 'the guys' - thank me. I'm the one that decided to let you back in. Nav: Get us the zark out of here."

"Thanks captain."

The gravitic controls of the ship give a lurch as they try to compensate for the ship disengaging from the spaceport and accelerating hard. Looks like this gambit is officially into "no backsies" territory.

"Get to the med bay to treat those suspiciously superficial wounds and tell Krunks in detail what you can. Those Zarkers were not zarking around, and I'm going to ping some contacts back on Ematoes Station to find out if there's anything we can dig up on them." Reedy-voiced captain asshole stalks towards what is doubtlessly some secluded portion of the ship. Maybe to not reveal it's contacts to the others, in typical insecure commmand-and-control leadery style. Makes for a dilemma - try to stalk the lone captain, or try to listen into the conversation that Garvek has with Krunk.

Best to not be too rash, and gather more information about our cast of characters. I'm not too bothered by having any background checks on my team. At least, not yet.

This crammed maintenance shaft doesn't have a lot of options here - I'll have to head back to that last node and see if there's another direction with the right smell. Ouch, dammit: I'm stabbing myself with my own quills turning around in this tight of a space. And I'm leaving talon-marks on things. I might be quiet still, but they'll definitely be able to track me in here.

That way.

"Your wounds are very clean."

"Well, I didn't stop to rub grime on them or anything while i was running back to the ship."

"No, I mean that the beam weapon used very carefully avoided hitting anything that might have slowed you down very much."

"...Uh. What? Are you saying that they were toying with me, so they could shoot me more?"

"Maybe. It is possible that they planned on shooting you more - after they had scared you and let you lead them back to us."

"OOOOOOOOOH! Shit. OK, that's such a relief. I thought you guys all hated my guts for something I did wrong and that's why you weren't letting me in."

"I'm not sure why you're relieved, Mister Garvek. The captain undoubtedly still suspects that you are working for or with those surprise assailants on Ematoes, and the superficial nature of your wounds does not disprove that."

I wish I could see Garvek's face; it's probably priceless. Honestly, the way my partner shot THROUGH this guy to drop two other goons was a masterpiece of snipery goodness. I certainly couldn't have done it. Of course, my filament rifle doesn't cut through things very well. There's something about Krunks here that has me pondering. If my mini-Mizzie-enchanted blaster and force blade hadn't freaked out and fled me when I insisted on entering this ship, I might have been able to more directly detect if the coldly logical Krunks was actually an active-metal shapeshifting monster. Alas - it's probably better that they're not here when this all plays out anyway.

...STILL in process...