|
Post by Game Master on May 23, 2015 13:10:27 GMT -6
"You are clear for departure, Valiant. Safe journey and godspeed."
The docking clamps unlatched themselves from the refurbished Turian frigate, allowing the Valiant to smoothly float backwards away from the Citadel. The engines lit up, executing a flawless 180 degree turn before flashing... allowing the Valiant to fly off at sub-light speeds towards the relay.
"Ladies and gentlemen," the Valiant's PA came to life with the sound of the pilot's voice. "Turian and Krogan, Asari and human, and any hot stowaways in the vent. This is Thomas Torrez, pilot extraordinaire and your humble guide on our journey through the galaxy. If you look to your left of the vessel, you'll see jack shit since there's a lot of stellar gas out there. If you look to the right, you'll see even more jack shit, since there's a lot of stellar gas out there. But if you're up here with me, you would see me flipping off the Destiny's Ascension as we pass her on the way to the relay."
Torrez tilted the Valiant away from the Destiny's Ascension, making sure not to get too close to one of the largest ships ever in Citadel space. He smirked.
"We'll be hitting the relay in ten seconds, so hold on tight and let's get ready to get the hell outta here!"
-----------------------------
[GM Note] Hello all
This is our downtime just before the coming mission. This is when we'll be preparing. Try to figure out how you want to approach it. We all have played Mass Effect 1 and know what to expect on that frosty planet. So when you're imagining the place, try to picture your character there on that world rather than Shepard. Try to plan with that in mind. I think it'll make it all much more fun.
There will be a little in-game event to happen in this section, but not for a little bit. It's important for PCs to have their downtime!
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 23, 2015 13:42:17 GMT -6
Naetilia wasted no time in putting herself to work. After stowing her gear in her private sleeping area, she went to the medbay.
“This is Doctor Naetilia Bolanis, I wish to speak with the VI,” she said.
“Voice recognition confirmed,” said an emotionless male voice. “Bolanis, Naetilia, Doctor. Duty position: Medical Officer. This unit is ready to process commands.”
“What is your designation?” she asked.
“This unit’s designation is ‘Gin’,” it said. “How may I assist you, Doctor?”
“Activate graphic interface display,” she said.
The air shimmered, and a holographic human male appeared.
“Within the confines of the medbay, alter the configuration so that it appears as a turian male,” she said.
The air shimmered again, and a turian male now stood in place of the human male. “Is this configuration within your designated parameters, Doctor?” Gin asked.
“Yes,” she said. “Implement the following security protocol: No medical supplies are to be accessed without my direct authorization.”
“Protocol enabled,” the VI said. “Do you have further commands for this unit?”
“Yes,” she said. “Bring up an inventory of all onboard medical supplies.”
[AUTHOR NOTE: All interactions with VI and modifications have GM approval.]
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 23, 2015 14:29:09 GMT -6
Maelstrom glared again at the opposing landing pad on the far side of the bay, as he left Vengeance after its post-docking systems check. Apparently since the Collector base mission, Bridges had seen necessary to retrofit certain systems on the Valiant, including the shuttle docking system. There was now a track on the floor and a pair of armatures which moved one of the two pads from their storage area on the wall and down onto the floor of the hold when a shuttle was docking or launching. By putting auxiliary craft on an angle instead of flat on the floor, they were able to safely dock two craft instead of just one, but Maelstrom had doubts about how the system would work in an emergency.
The major concern for him was the way the landing pads rested at an angle. To keep the vessels stationary in the event of a power failure, two pairs of clamps secured the craft to its pad. Emily assured him that the clamps were on a separate power system that could easily be overrode, and that even without an override, a powered shuttle could escape without damage. Still, it was a change he did not care for. Aside from that, the two platforms had variable gravity generators, like the cell block in the Collector base. If those went out, then someone would have to climb the rungs on the floor to make it up the moderately-severe angle to get into the shuttle. Again, though, Emily assured him those generators had a separate system for backup power.
Maelstrom was carrying a sizable container. He had been looking forward to enjoying its contents for some time, but the small quarters on the Vengeance made preparing and savoring a meal like this problematic. As he made his way to the kitchen, he mused that he might have enjoyed the meal more if he were not wearing his armor, but he did not feel entirely comfortable around the new mercs or Fischer at the moment. That meant the Collector armor and his geth SMG stayed with him.
When he got to the mess room on the Valiant, he first found a large pot, into which he emptied several large portions of the frozen base. As the broth-like liquid and the suspended vegetables and thin pieces of beef thawed, he got another pot and set to cooking the rice noodles. With both necessary pots over heat, he set up his bowl and the assortment of stasis-preserved fresh herbs and limes and his rack of sauces and pastes used to flavor each batch. His favorite part, the fried garlic, was in its own container which he set out with care. Then out came his chop sticks and oriental soup spoon.
The final piece of the puzzle required a small pot to prepare the boba and a kettle to prepare the tea. He pulled out blender and got ice from the fridge. By memory, he poured out the correct amounts of honey, cream, and taro powder into the blender, to be mixed with the tea once it was finished. Then the whole concoction could be poured into his large cup with its over sized straw.
I haven't had a meal like this in ages, he thought, remembering an old friend and a time back before he was the man in black armor. I hope my tolerance for oriental chili hasn't gone down too much...
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on May 23, 2015 15:26:03 GMT -6
“All systems functional,” Bon said.
“That’s great, Bon,” Joe said. “But it took you thirty seconds to run a diagnostic, when it normally takes you five. You sure you’re okay?”
Another long pause.
“I’m fine Joe,” his VI finally said. “And I’m touched by your concern for my well-being.”
It’s not yours, it’s mine, he thought. You do this in combat, I’m taking harp lessons.
He began removing his armor.
*****
He had reached the living area deck of the ship—part of his reacquaintance tour—when he smelled something unfamiliar coming from the dining area.
He smiled as he thought back to Enaya and the mysterious concoction she had made. He had meant to get the recipe from her, but kept putting it off.
And now I’ll probably never get it, he thought.
*****
He took one step into the dining area and stopped when he saw Maelstrom’s unmistakable profile moving about the kitchen as he prepared the mystery meal.
Despite the intensity of his discussion with the man, he felt no lingering hostility towards him; he often found when he unloaded on someone, he invariably felt better, regardless of how the discussion went. The only time he got tense around someone he had an issue with was if he hadn’t unburdened himself.
Besides, I told him my concerns, he thought. How he deals with it is up to him. And it’s not like I insulted him personally.
He slowly approached the biotic, stopping by the counter a healthy distance from him and with his hands in full view.
“What’s cooking?” he asked casually.
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 23, 2015 17:42:01 GMT -6
“What’s cooking?” Fischer asked, walking into the mess casually.
Maelstrom kept his eyes on what he was doing, stirring the noodles and using a pair of tongs to see how close they were to being done. He considered not answering, but he didn't want to be that guy. He simply said, "Pho."*
Leaving the noodles, he checked the timer on the boba. They were swollen to three times their normal size once cooked. A few more minutes, then. "And bubble tea."
He moved back over to the base. There were still some frozen chunks, and Maelstrom used the spoon to break them up, increasing their surface area so they would melt faster. He was glad to see there were enough slices of beef in this batch, especially since he did not have any thinly-sliced beef on hand to add to it. He turned it up a couple more settings on the range.
The tea kettle whistled, and he grabbed it and poured the water into the teapot, already warmed and filled with two teabags. He put the lid back on the teapot and set a short timer on his omni-tool. "If you don't get the tea right, no matter how you adjust the proportions of the rest of the ingredients, the bubble tea is worthless."
Motioning toward the cabinets, he said, "Grab a cup and a bowl if you want. I was planning on sharing with anyone who came in anyway." Jokingly, he added, "But so help me, if you use a fork instead of chop sticks, I'll have an obligation to you flying into the nearest bulkhead."
(*"Pho" is pronounced "Fu." A friend of mine once got in trouble at school for talking about an actual restaurant called "Pho King Palace.")
|
|
|
Post by spartan560 on May 23, 2015 19:29:27 GMT -6
Izahm was sitting lotus style in the center of his cargo bay meditating as Niniah taught him his biotic field softly glowing, couple more minutes then I'll see what fruits they have maybe make a Matriarch Special, as he meditates data scrolls across his Archon Visor the servers all around him glowing softly, Hmmmmm I can't find anything on Maelstrom, lots on Joe, a couple of interesting events involving Naetilia and someone who appears to be her brother in several medical practices, hmmm and almost nothing on Karn though as a Krogan he would rarely leave survivors. He makes a hand gesture and the servers slowly die down. Once they quiet down Izahm closes his eyes and begins truly meditating letting his thoughts flow, Maelstrom though is very.....intriguing. Absolutely no records exist of him, judging by the altercation in the docking bay he must have a specialized VI like me that eradicates all records of him. And then there's his shuttle, I've never seen that model before but it's clearly a unique design.
After a few more minutes of silent meditation he gets up removes his Archon Visor but keeps on every other piece of armor and grabs his Disciple on the way out. He then closes and locks his shuttle and walks through the docking bay to the mess hall humming an old earth movie theme song (Star Wars). Arriving at the mess hall he sees Maelstrom and Joe engaging in tentative conversation. Not one to ignite two potentially destructive powder kegs he simply goes over to the fridge grabs the necessary fruits for his drink and begins mixing them turning to face the two, arms crossed on his chest observing the pair talk.
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on May 23, 2015 20:56:42 GMT -6
Joe cocked an eyebrow at Maelstrom, surprised at the man’s seeming casualness. He had fully expected a response with polite words but an undercurrent of hostility, yet the way he responded seemed like he had put the confrontation aside.
Well, if he’s willing to let it go, so be it, he thought as he pulled out several cups and bowls and set them aside for anyone who may come later.
“Pho, huh? Never heard of it,” he said, edging closer to the biotic. “Most of my experience is with Japanese food.
“On my last team, there was this Japanese girl, an infiltrator, one of—no, scratch that, THE best I’d ever seen,” he said. “There wasn’t a security system she couldn’t breach, no sensor she couldn’t hide from, no target she couldn’t take down, but talking to her…”
He shook his head.
“You’d get a better conversation from a brick wall,” he said. “I mean, she literally did NOT talk. I knew her two years, I can count on one hand the number of words she said.
“But anyway, the only thing she did besides train was cook, and she was damn good at that too,” he said. “Every week, she’d make something new. We’d always ask her what it was, but all she’d do was just nod at it, like she was saying, ‘You want to know, try it.’ Damn, I miss her…”
He looked away for a moment, pushing down the emotion that welled up, and saw Izahm had come in. The reporter went to the fridge and got some fruit, watching the pair but keeping his distance.
Fucking kids, always interrupting our private moments…
“So, pho, huh?” he said. “Never had it, but what the hell, it can’t be any worse than that ryncol you served me at the meeting.”
[Insert reaction/reply]
“You forgot the number one rule when fighting me: leave nothing standing, because if you don’t, I will rise up and kick your ass,” he said. “I spent most of my leave working on my tolerance for the stuff, no way was I going to let Karn beat me again. So, is the pho ready?”
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 23, 2015 21:26:09 GMT -6
Maelstrom bristled at the reporter's presence and the way he just silently took to a corner. As though we'd forget we're being watched.
“Never had it, but what the hell, it can’t be any worse than that ryncol you served me at the meeting.”
Maelstrom laughed openly. "They must have replaced your liver with some special kind of unnatural tech to keep on your feet after that."
“You forgot the number one rule when fighting me: leave nothing standing, because if you don’t, I will rise up and kick your ass,” he said. “I spent most of my leave working on my tolerance for the stuff, no way was I going to let Karn beat me again. So, is the pho ready?”
Maelstrom checked the base. It was all melted, but there was no steam rising from the top yet. Probably still lukewarm. Best give it a few more.
"Not quite. Can't imagine the stuff would be good cold," Maelstrom said. Moving on, he drained the boba and watched as they shrunk instantly down to the correct size. He dumped them into a container of cold sugar-and-water syrup and stuck them into the fridge to let them cool. "Can't say I'm versed in Japanese food. All I know about it is those folks eat a bunch of raw seafood. Not really my style." He checked the tea. Ready. He quickly took the brew and poured it into a special receptacle. Using a trick he learned years back, he took it to the flash-freezing unit meant to preserve meals for future consumption. He set it to one tenth power, instantly making the tea just a couple degrees above ice-cold. It went straight into the blender, and he pressed the button.
"What about you, newbie?" Maelstrom asked. "Feel up to taking your life in your hands?"
[Insert reply.]
The elements of the bubble tea were ready, and Maelstrom poured out one for each of the takers, though he poured his into his own cup. Going back to the pho base, he was pleased to find just a little steam coming off the top, and he reduced the heat on the stove to low. He put some noodles in each bowl person's bowl, then poured the soup with its thin slices of beef over the noodles.
"Of course, anyone can handle it straight. The real question is if you boys want it authentic," Maelstrom said, taking his bowl over to the impressive rack of additional ingredients. To stay non-threatening, he started by squeezing in a lime wedge, sprinkling in a spoonful of fried garlic, and adding a few of the fresh herbs. "If so, I'll prepare yours like mine."
|
|
|
Post by Maricus Caenilus on May 23, 2015 21:58:53 GMT -6
Maricus was walking the ship for the first time since its retrofit. Before Bridges ever set out for Barce, Malicus had felt the need to look over the ship their financier was providing. Now, though, he felt the need to examine it again, given how much time had passed and how much the ship had changed in the interval since. He had started in the bridge with the rather impertinent pilot. Bridges spoke highly of him, though, so Maricus left well enough alone and moved on.
All in all, he found the ship impressive for a private craft, but it was not what he would like to see for the business. He wanted their own craft, the sole property of the company and appropriately insured. That was a dream for the future, though.
"The real question is if you boys want it authentic," he heard Maelstrom say. Entering the mess, he saw Maelstrom adding more ingredients into a bowl that smelled rather appealing. "If so, I'll prepare yours like mine."
Shame, Maricus thought. Half a galaxy of delicacies I'll never be able to sample.
The real surprise was that Fischer and Kanokah were in the mess as well. It looked as though Maelstrom had made enough to feed the entirety of the levo-based crew.
Huh. Either he gets over things quick, or payback is coming some other way, Maricus mused. So long as it doesn't involve any fights, we should be good. He took a moment to remind himself of what he told Naetilia; it was all positioning, whether they realized it or not. Such things did not tend to cause lasting divides between men who had saved one another's lives.
He made his way over to the faucet and got himself a glass of water, before going to the fridge and getting himself a troizen- a type of meat from a large mammal-like creature on Palaven that had been ground, seasoned with spices, and then shaped into a sausage-like shape. They could be heated, but they were fine at any temperature, and soldiers often liked to sneak them in as contraband on missions, as an addition to their military rations. Bridges had once smelled one of them before Maricus ate it and said smelled spicy. Where Maricus grew up, it was pretty standard fare, and even most children would have considered it palatable.
He nodded to each of the men present, then took a seat at the far corner of the table, not wanting to get in the way of the others readying their meal.
|
|
|
Post by spartan560 on May 23, 2015 22:13:37 GMT -6
"These fruit drinks I make are also my meals," Izahm says in reply to Maelstrom, "As a fledgling biotic using my biotics drains me faster than an experienced one like yourself. These fruit drinks are a basically highly concentrated nutrients and vitamins and the blend creates unique flavors so it isn't all that bland," he then takes out a pair of mixers normally used in making alcoholic drinks pours the mixed fruits into the mixers then adds a few more ingredients then mixes them for half a minute by hand then pours the whole mix into the thermos he brought, "Care to taste?" He offers grabbing a cup from the cupoard.
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on May 24, 2015 2:36:08 GMT -6
Joe was about to reply when he saw Maricus enter, take something out of the fridge and grab a seat at a far table.
Wow, getting quite an audience, he thought.
Then Izahm piped in about how the fruit he had helped him recover from using biotics, and once again he felt annoyance at the reporter rise up in him.
What is it about him? he wondered.
As he thought about it, the main reason had to be his occupation. He always thought that for journalists, it was more about getting their name out there and telling the story the way they saw it than telling the truth, regardless of what they said about "journalistic integrity".
What was it Gunny Fisk called them? he thought to himself. Oh yeah, glorified snitches.
He opened his mouth to tell him off—Maricus be damned, he doesn’t sign my paycheck—but then closed it; the kid was part of the team, and as long as he looked out for the others and could handle himself in a fight, then he could tolerate him.
“Come on over and sit at the adult table, kiddo,” he said, gesturing at the open seat next to him.
He turned back to Maelstrom.
“I know that question wasn’t directed to me,” he said. “I’d like to think you know me a little better than that. We N7s laugh at danger…and then shoot it in the face with a big fucking gun. Do your worst.”
He held out his bowl.
Famous last words…
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 24, 2015 7:02:34 GMT -6
"Care to taste?" Izahm asked.
"No thanks," Maelstrom said. "Never got into the whole 'drinks as a meal' thing. Besides, a man needs good, old-fashioned protein if he's going to be a fighter. Only time I use that energy drink stuff is when I'm actually on a mission. Got a little rig in my helmet that can dispense the stuff on-the-go if I've got to fight for a protracted period."
Maricus entered and acknowledged each with a nod, before sitting at the far end of the table. Maelstrom almost offered him a bowl, before remembering that it would probably kill their dextro-based employer. The turian seemed content to sit silently and watch, so Maelstrom went about his business.
Fischer invited Izahm to come sit, before addressing Maelstrom's question. “I know that question wasn’t directed to me. I’d like to think you know me a little better than that. We N7s laugh in the face of danger…and then shoot it in the face with a big fucking gun. Do your worst.”
With that, the former N7 held out his bowl.
Maelstrom smiled widely.
He set his bowl and Joe's side by side, so the man could watch the process, both in case he ever found himself wanting to make the dish in the future and so he could see that Maelstrom was making them identically. First the lime wedge, then the herbs and garlic. To both, he added a small handful of bean sprouts and a small spoonful of beef paste. From there, Maelstrom added the jalapeno slices. A generous portion of sriracha. A small bit of the chili and tomato sauce. Finally, he used the small spoons on the rack to get each of them a half a spoonful of the fried garlic and chili paste, then added it to their bowls.
After handling the garlic and chili paste, he washed his hands, remembering the one time he forgot to and his eyes had burned for days. Back during his training days, he'd manage to smuggle a little in with him wherever he went and would add it to the less flavorful foods he was served. Once or twice, the other people training with him had asked for just a tiny bit to mix into their eggs or mashed potatoes. They rarely asked twice, even when he provided only the smallest amounts. If they had paid closer attention, he thought, they would not have asked. He told them point blank early on that the way he had gotten rid of the ants which tried invading their barracks was by dipping his finger in the jar and drawing a line across every access point they used that he could find.
When he returned to sit down, he reclaimed his bowl and stirred everything together with his chop sticks. The once-amber liquid was now a bright, deep red color that, to Maelstrom, signified its readiness for consumption. With his chop sticks, he lifted a tangle of noodles and slice of beef clear of the bowl. Stopping halfway to his mouth, he added, "Make sure you have your bubble tea ready."
Then he took a bite and relished the burn.
I sure hope Fischer can handle it. Took my buddy almost a year to build my tolerance to this point.
|
|
|
Post by spartan560 on May 24, 2015 7:23:09 GMT -6
Izahm smirked slightly then with a final twist of the thermos goes over to their table and watches Maelstrom make their meals, I certainly hope Joe has that bubble tea ready, Sriracha is quite potent. Izahm then sips at his drink watching Maelstrom and Joe eat, wish I could join them but my double implants and nodes mean anytime I use my biotics I get tired really fast, these Asari fruit drinks are all that have worked so far in keeping me awake. He then watches Maricus come in and sit nearby eating his own dextro based food, and then there's Maricus, I bet it's hard finding a place that serves dextro and levo food.
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on May 24, 2015 17:03:08 GMT -6
"Make sure you have your bubble tea ready," Maelstrom advised just before downing some pho.
Right then Joe knew he wouldn’t. Maybe because he was one of those people who would do something right after being told not to, or maybe he wanted to prove to the biotic he could handle the dish or maybe he was just a stubborn macho jerk.
The more things change, the more they stay the same, he mused, thinking the endless ways males had tried to prove their dominance over each other through the millennia.
He swirled up a hefty helping of the dish with surprising deftness and popped it in his mouth.
He had never been burned before, but this was probably what it felt like: his lips felt like they were being jabbed with a thousand fiery needles and his tongue wanted to rip itself from his mouth and jump into space to cool itself off.
Don’t scream, he thought as he locked his jaws tight. Put your mind somewhere else.
He looked over at the biotic, forcing himself to slowly chew and swallow even when every instinct was telling him to spit it out.
Don’t scream—and don’t drink your tea until he does, he ordered himself as the burning intensified to a level that had no words to describe it.
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 24, 2015 17:34:39 GMT -6
As soon as Maelstrom finished his bite, he remembered something he had forgotten, rising to his feet. He was glad to see Joe had taken his first bite and seemed to be handling it well. Moving over to the counter area, he went rummaging around for his objective. First he checked the drawers. Then on top of the fridge. In the cupboards. Finally in the pantry.
Dumbfounded, he scratched his head. They were not on a krogan mercenary ship. Napkins should not have been that hard to find. Then he spotted them, poking out from behind the blender full of bubble tea. Grabbing the whole stack, he returned to the table.
"Pho always makes your nose run," he explained, sitting across from Fischer. He took another bite. After swallowing, he added, "Can't believe I forgot them."
He looked up and found the N7 sitting there with fists clenched to the point of being white-knuckled. His chop sticks were both snapped in half, and his face was as red as a beet.
He thought about asking if Joe was okay or if he was having an allergic reaction and needed help. Then he remembered the N7's tendency to take even insane challenges and stick to them no matter what. If he alluded to the fact that he thought Joe could not handle it, he expected the man to either be humiliated or to become irate.
Keeping an eye on him, to watch for signs of respiratory distress, in case he was wrong about allergies being the cause, Maelstrom grabbed his bubble tea and took a long sip of the sweet, icy concoction.
(Joe's actions were pre-arranged in player message.)
|
|
|
Post by spartan560 on May 24, 2015 17:54:11 GMT -6
Izahm almost almost laughed at Joe's predicament but refrained from doing so through sheer force of will he couldn't however stop the smirk that tugged at the corner of his face, "Ya know I might have a cup of that Pho," he leans forward inhaling the foods fragrance, "Smells delicious," he then takes a liberal drink of his Matriarch Special. After this I think I'm going to try out that combat sim. I've been getting rusty on my hand to hand and biotics combos, Ouranos would be disappointed in how rusty I've become since I trained with him, Niniah too now that I think about it. Izahm genuinely smiles this time somewhat lost in his thoughts.
|
|
|
Post by Joe Fischer on May 25, 2015 0:22:13 GMT -6
When Joe saw Maelstrom drink his tea, a small part of him cheered. What a wimp! it said.
But then a larger part said, Very impressive, you have guts of iron, I’m sure that will get you laid. NOW DRINK THE DAMN TEA, YOU MORON!
He drained his cup without stopping, but still kept his mouth shut; he thought if he opened it without extinguishing the fire within, he would spew flames like the dragons of myth.
He got up, staggered over to the pot of tea and drained that as well. He opened his mouth slightly, and he was very grateful nothing came out.
He grabbed some napkins and wiped down his face, then once he was sure he had regained his composure, he stood up straight and swaggered back to the table.
“Kind of bland, actually,” he said to Maelstrom. “It’s a good thing you can fight, because you suck as a cook.”
He winked at the biotic.
|
|
|
Post by Eric Lysander on May 25, 2015 15:24:59 GMT -6
Noveria was a world of ice in every sense imaginable. From its surface temperatures to the people who managed the corporations and laboratories built there.
Cold and merciless. A world of secrets.
Growing up in the Chicago megalopolis by the Great Lakes of the North American Territories, Eric was no stranger to the cold. And he was no stranger to the secrets of the activities of some of his neighbors who had emigrated from similar climes in order to continue unhindered by warfare. His thought was perhaps he might run into a couple of them on this mission as he ran into Truneyev on Cartegena Station. Or he may well come across creatures and abominations, beings that were thought long extinct like the Rachni Queen Shepard was rumored to have found. Cerberus could very well have an interest or two on Noveria as well. If this was so the frosty world would soon be removed permanently from the galactic map. That is if Maelstrom brings along a sufficiently powerful thermonuclear device.
Eric went over the cold-proofing modifications to his armor and weapons again, verifying that any hydraulics were diluted with antifreeze. Stowing the majority of his gear in his nook of the docking bay, he changed into his street clothes and headed up to the main deck. As he looked around the crew of the Valiant were busy at their stations monitoring the ship's functions, making adjustments where needed. He took note of an enticing aroma coming from the upper deck. The asari twins were at the Citadel now so it could not have been them. He then remembered that Meldom mentioned some time ago that he was something of an amateur chef. It had to have been him following up on a promise to treat the crew to one of his dishes.
As he headed to the stairwell he paused to glance at the sealed door to the medical bay. A nagging question reared its head again. Eric took it upon himself to kill two birds with one stone, getting Naetilia to join him and the others upstairs and find out if she had her FENRIS take down the merc sneaking up on him. Eric straightened up and hit the door signal, trying not to look neither too eager nor too uninterested.
|
|
|
Post by Maelstrom on May 25, 2015 15:32:56 GMT -6
“It’s a good thing you can fight, because you suck as a cook,” Fischer said.
"Yeah, I did go on the mild side this time, but don't discount it yet," Maelstrom said with a grin. "The really 'flavorful' part is when you down all that broth at the end."
He ate another large mouthful of food, then took a sip of the bubble tea.
|
|
Deleted
Deleted Member
Posts: 0
|
Post by Deleted on May 25, 2015 17:24:57 GMT -6
Naetilia was about halfway through the inventory when the door chime rang.
“Gin, deactivate graphic interface display,” she said.
The air shimmered and the holographic turian disappeared.
She looked over at the mech for a moment as it lay on the floor, apparently in a power saving mode, before going to the door and opening it to discover that it was the human claiming to be the executive officer.
“Lysander,” she said, nodding in greeting. “Are you unwell?”
|
|