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The Cancer / A Recruitment Drive (Open)
« on: December 12, 2017, 12:36:22 pm »
"But we've always managed well enough on our own, why should we hire a crew now?" asks Neptune, arms folded in the pilot's seat of the Sanguine Scud, her hobnailed boots resting on the console.
"You're not thinking of the big picture. Do you really want to be a small fry forever?" says Triton, checking his hair in the mirror.
"Small fry? I'll taller than you"
"And uglier, but you know that's not my point. We're getting nowhere, nowhere fast."
"We're making money."
"Not nearly as much as we could. There is a vast fortune out there with our names on it, meanwhile we're skulking around for scraps."
"As your captain, I think it's a bad idea"
"As your engineer, I think we need a mechanic at least, and as your brother who was nearly blown to smithereens along with this entire junker" he knocks his hand on the rusted corridor wall for emphasis "the last time the auto-turrets failed, I say it might be a good idea to bring on a few gunners."
Neptune sighs. He's right, of course. Still, she has to be firm.
"Three, no more. And make damn sure they're reliable, because if they're not, you're all going out the airlock. Undesrstood?"
"Aye-aye, Cap'n". He didn't take her seriously, death threats were her way of having fun.
Mid-day, Cancer space-port. Neptune brought the Scud in for landing. When the ramp shudderingly descended, Triton strode out of it with a sign and a pair of folding chairs under his arms, a pair of passe sunglasses and a debonair smile on his face. He deployed the chairs, sat down, kicked his feet up, and held the sign out in front of him:
"CREW WANTED, AMPLE PAY FOR ABLE WORK"
His sister came out to sit next to him, grumpily, an SMG-style plasma gun across her waist. "I'll leave the talking to you".
"Good idea".
"You're not thinking of the big picture. Do you really want to be a small fry forever?" says Triton, checking his hair in the mirror.
"Small fry? I'll taller than you"
"And uglier, but you know that's not my point. We're getting nowhere, nowhere fast."
"We're making money."
"Not nearly as much as we could. There is a vast fortune out there with our names on it, meanwhile we're skulking around for scraps."
"As your captain, I think it's a bad idea"
"As your engineer, I think we need a mechanic at least, and as your brother who was nearly blown to smithereens along with this entire junker" he knocks his hand on the rusted corridor wall for emphasis "the last time the auto-turrets failed, I say it might be a good idea to bring on a few gunners."
Neptune sighs. He's right, of course. Still, she has to be firm.
"Three, no more. And make damn sure they're reliable, because if they're not, you're all going out the airlock. Undesrstood?"
"Aye-aye, Cap'n". He didn't take her seriously, death threats were her way of having fun.
Mid-day, Cancer space-port. Neptune brought the Scud in for landing. When the ramp shudderingly descended, Triton strode out of it with a sign and a pair of folding chairs under his arms, a pair of passe sunglasses and a debonair smile on his face. He deployed the chairs, sat down, kicked his feet up, and held the sign out in front of him:
"CREW WANTED, AMPLE PAY FOR ABLE WORK"
His sister came out to sit next to him, grumpily, an SMG-style plasma gun across her waist. "I'll leave the talking to you".
"Good idea".