BELT Out in the Sticks

Discussion in 'Open Roleplay' started by Corvus Dravere, Nov 25, 2017.

  1. Corvus Dravere

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    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Ice Trawlers were the lifeblood of the Belt. It's people could pride themselves on their work all they wanted, but water was king. Water and oxygen, but... he always figured water begat oxygen, if only because water fed the plants that helped them recycle and create their own air.

    It was why he always greeted an Ice Trawler when it came into dock.

    He was doing it now, standing with his mag boots locked onto the decking, watching as the trawler corrected itself with small bursts of it's thrusters, easing it's way into cradle to begin unloading the gigantic blocks of ice that would help feed the station and then the Belt.

    He was proud to say that they didn't have to ration water here - at least not to the extent other stations like Ceres did. The benefits of a small population and abundant supply. They'd have to keep an eye on it, though, lest they burn through it too quick.

    "Welcome home." He murmurs into his helmet, letting out a short sigh of approval at the beast slipping in to berth.

    This water would be fed through the pipes and into the rest of the station; a station crawling with people in search of work an entertainment. He turned, disengaged his mag boots, and pushed off towards the airlock above him.

    Perhaps he'd go take a jaunt through the shopping areas - see the station as it lived and breathed. Catching himself on the rail as he reached the airlock, he cycled it open and went inside, using the handholds to correct his orientation towards the floor before engaging his magboots again.

    Clamping to the floor, he began the process of cycling, and waited as the oxygen and pressure normalized before taking his helmet off. "Another day in paradise." He says, to no one in particular. "Let's go see how the workers are doing."
     
  2. Kay

    Kay Lancaster

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    89
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    “Oh my god, yes.” Her voice rumbled with an ecstatic growl before she swallowed the food that she had let linger on her tongue. “Food. Real food. None of that pasty, powdery, whatever food packet crap Daniels shoves into our laps every other day or so.”

    “It works for the rest of us.” Her friend seemed to chuckle as he threw a wary eye over his shoulder. “Should work for you too.”

    “It just doesn't seem to do it quite like this real stuff does it.” She deflected the comment and took another bite of her meal. “My god, this is made of- of- I don’t know,” She took another bite. “It’s good.”

    “It’s probably made from the very same stuff but with better flavoring.” The man gave her a dry gaze as a grin split his lips.

    “Well maybe Daniels should get himself some spices to pass around the crew then.” Kay perked her brows at the man with a hint of amusement, taking his statement less as a fact and more as a joke. Lee was the one person on the crew that she had bonded with the most. The others were like a big dysfunctional family too — or well, maybe not — but Lee went beyond what she shared with the rest of the crew. He was like a brother or a guardian angel to her. He was just kind of always there for her when she needed it and she often offered the same. This break, even if it was by many means looking to be shorter than either of them would have liked, was just one of many that they had shared together.

    “Yeah, maybe.” Lee turned on the spot and wrapped his hands around his own burrito and took a hefty bite. It became the woman’s turn to keep an eye out and she would twist around to lean her lower back against the metal counter of the food stand.

    “Daniels sure as hell could stand to liven it all up a bit. At least we can agree on that one.” Lee came through with the follow up. “I still think you’re just being picky though.”

    “Oh, an Earther being picky and wasteful.” Kay threw him an amused side glance. “Is that prejudice I hear?”

    The man grinned back and shook his head. “Screw you, Lancaster. It ain’t prejudice if it’s true, and especially not when we are talking about you.”

    A smirk spread on her lips. Perhaps she was picky, or perhaps there actually was something about the food packets that made her stomach churn. Nonetheless she took the hit to her ego and let her back straighten out against the counter again while she continued to look out over the crowds.

    Not that she knew what to really look for. Lee was the paranoid one out of the two.
     
  3. Solaris

    Solaris McClane

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    306
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    @Corvus Dravere @Kay
    Kehlani
    Protogen Shuttle


    The clink of mag-boots brought a red flash by Solaris's heels. The sensation was still something to get used to; the sudden latching to the floor a firm jerk. Strands of blonde hair went dancing around her head, wisps coming to flow in front of her face before quick fingers went to comb them back.

    Beside her, the internal comm system gave a crackle. It was Michigan's, their Captain's gravely voice.

    [ Alright everyone, going to be docking on Politian for a very quick stay. Don't wander far. Once we figure out what is wrong with our navigation we'll be moving on through. ]

    "This ought to be good." came her soft murmur, the woman finger combing her hair up into a ponytail at the nape of her neck. The Kehlani had been in route to Ceres from Earth, a Protogen's shuttle with the next rotation of research scientists at Europa. For some, like Akima, this was their second or third cycle. For Solaris, it was her first.

    Protogen hired Solaris a few months after testing out for her Doctorate. They offered a program that allowed tax incentives and benefits for scientists who were willing to staff their research programs in the Jovian moons.

    A sacrifice for benefits that her parents had done years earlier when they gave up having another child to give their daughter a higher chance of being selected for access to education. With unemployment and the population the highest it has ever been, giving Solaris a higher viable chance at success had been the priority. Even if that included leaving Terra behind to live with a family friend to continue her education while they emigrated to Ganymede.

    All in all, if she had to leave Earth and head off to Jupiter a satellite away from her parents, Solaris counted herself lucky.
     
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  4. Corvus Dravere

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    Corvus stepped out of the airlock, making his way down the hall and towards what he called the 'Vac-Room.' It's where everyone tended to keep their suits for this dock, and he did the same. He actually had a vac suit for each doc but he didn't tell anyone that. Making sure his shirt and pants were square, he pulled his jacket out of a locker and tugged it on around broad shoulders.

    His Martian pistol was tucked into a holster on his right hip, and the jacket was pulled around it. Carrying was legal here - the Marshals weren't going to stop anyone from packing. Most justice here was meted out by the wronged, but should anyone step too far out of line, the Marshals existed for a reason.

    For the most part, each section of the Station elected their own Marshal - though 'elected' was generous. It was usually a consensus peacekeeper who ruled the roost, and for the most part that honor system had turned out alright. There was no law on Politian, just like there were no laws on Ceres.

    Pulling out a cigar as he walked, he tucked it between his lips, moving out of the docking bays and out into the immediate concourse surrounding them. Here was the lap of luxury, at least as it existed on Politian. If you weren't going far, you'd find plenty of food and beverage options, plus a few brothels and hotels, all relatively reasonably priced. A little further past them got you to the ritzy stuff, but if you were going that far you already lived here.

    Digging into his shirt pocket, he pulled his glasses from where he'd tucked the stem into his collar and placed them onto his face, blinking away a few notifications from his daughter; mostly about meetings she'd taken minutes on. Exhaling a cloud of smoke, he stopped, checking his communicator for a moment before scanning the crowd.

    A meaty thunk caused his head to turn, and he found the Marshal of this particular Docking Bay giving someone a 'racooning.' That is to say, they knocked 'em on the ground, and gave 'em one solid punch for each eye. When you woke up with two shiners, people knew you'd goofed. Sighing, he moved over, shaking his head as he lifted his gaze to a nearby restaurant, catching the eye of @Kay for a moment.

    "What'd he do?" He asks in the characteristic drawl of his Martian heritage.

    "Harassin' a lady what don't want harassin'." The Marshal replies, slamming the man's head off the decking. Corvus grunted.

    Reaching down, he grabbed the now unconscious man by his figurative lapels and hefted him onto a nearby bench, setting him upright with his head rolled back as though taking a nap. Giving him a pat on the cheek, he turned back to the Marshal, a cloud of smoke erupting from his nostrils. "Was it necessary to give 'em the double black?" He asks quietly.

    "First time offender. Just a little drunk, s'all." Corvus nodded, clapping the Marshal on the shoulder. "I trust ya." He says, lifting the left corner of his mouth into something approaching a smile. "Just remember this is a docking bay. We don't want people walking in to watching a man get beat."

    Casting his attention back to the perp, he let his glasses run a facial. "He's part of the crew of the Frankfurt. Notify the captain, let 'em know where to find his engineer." The Marshal nodded, digging into his pocket for his communicator. "And try not to beat up too many of our hoppers, yeah?"

    @Solaris
     
    #4 Corvus Dravere, Nov 26, 2017
    Last edited: Nov 26, 2017
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  5. Astrian Callus

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    15
    @Corvus Dravere | @Kay | @Solaris
    Curte-Cursor: Docking ~>
    -Politian Station

    Hot air filled the airlock, condescension secreting the edges of the airlock viewport. Astrian pulled tight his grey collared uniform, a rugged and worn variation of his old formal uniform. He had removed every piece of patchwork that carried any semblance of United Nation identity. He'd reserved the colours and replaced much of the fabric of his uniform. It still had an inner layer of Kevlar, he felt like him self wearing it. But it was old, outdated and almost unrecognisable to the untrained eye. Even still, he threw a long black trench coat over his broad form. The coat also served to cover his 12-50G strapped to his left thigh. The airlock opened and Astrian disembarked from the Curte-Cursor, he was here to refuel. That was it, no business, no trouble.

    But even with the comforting weight of his personal sidearm on his leg, he had a discernible gut feeling that he'd find trouble all too quickly. Astrian lifted his Hand Terminal, calling his crewmate Caleb; "Keep her primed Caleb, I've got a bad feeling about this stop." Astrian stored his hand terminal in the inner pocket of his coat, shifting his eyes about the docking platform as he headed for the registry centre.

    An old women sat beyond a semi circular plain of glass. She wore a purple jumper that she'd clearly sown herself, with old beaded reading glasses hanging loosely on her wrinkled nose. She looked very much the archetype, with a perpetual frown that implied a lack of visitors at whatever care home the Politian work force had dug her out of. Astrian got in line behind five others, hearing muffled voices and terminals chiming in response to commands being keyed in. He dug his hands into the depths of his pockets, being greeted by a small cold shape. He stretched the width of his pocket, looking down into it.

    Steel knuckle dusters gleamed in his pocket, he'd thought he'd lost them. He dug his right hand into the pocket, forcing his fingers through the individual holes. A sudden feeling of security reigned him in as he looked around; he saw no threat, no danger. Astrian's broad frame relaxed, allowing his stretch a little. Four more still stood in front of him.
     
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  6. Alanna Marston

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    68
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Caleb Orson
    Long Haul Passenger Transport


    Politian Station loomed massive on the transport’s grimy, stuttering screens. It was a relief. This time of year, the station was almost at the opposite end of the solar system from Ceres, and the trip over had been, long, crowded, and expensive as hell. After a lifetime on Martian starships, Alanna couldn’t — and probably never would — get used to the comparatively disgusting Belter vessels.

    The ride was almost over, though, and, though she had never been there, Politian was supposed to be a nice place. Especially for Martians. That was certainly a nice bonus.

    She checked the “fasten seatbelt” light before standing up, though frankly she didn’t entirely trust the crew of the transport to care about details like that. Pushing past a family spilling into the aisle, she made her way to the head. Door closed and locked, water flowing slowly from the tap in the light thrust gravity, nobody would hear her take out her handgun and place it securely in an inner pocket of her coat. Firearms were banned in carry-on luggage, but Alanna wasn’t about to take chances in new territory. Some of the questions she asked for a living had gotten her in trouble before.

    Besides, she didn't really have qualms about breaking the rules here. It was a very good gun, and wouldn’t blow up or go off unexpectedly. Smart lock, rapid-fire, recoilless…Martian made, of course. She had bought it immediately after moving to Ceres and it had been her trusty companion ever since.

    A beeping noise let her know that her water rations for the session had nearly run out. She turned off the faucet and left the room, slipping back into her crash couch and pulling out her hand terminal to see if she could get a link to Politian yet.

    An hour later the ship had docked, descending into the yawning maw of the station and clamping to the side like some sort of tooth. The spin gravity was weak and the Coriolis was very strong, but compared to the musty, cramped atmosphere of the transport, it was a paradise. But before her work began, Alanna had to take care of something much more important: food. She wandered through the station, searching for a good looking restaurant and taking in the sights of the place she would be calling home for the next few months.
     
  7. Kay

    Kay Lancaster

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    Bio
    “Hm.” She let out a half-worried sound as she caught the eye of a man who seemed to be built for security. She could only assume such was the case too. Lee turned his head to look at her between chews.

    “What?” He asked as he caught glance of the scene from between the crowds. “Oh.”

    “Yeah…” She sighed. “Guess some things never change.”

    “You still got the gun the captain provided you with?” Lee spoke with the drawl that his kind had become so associated with.

    “Yeah, of course.” Kay reached for the gun in the holster by her waist. Her hand wrapped around the handle and her finger slipped onto the trigger.

    “Finger off the trigger, Lancaster.” The man sighed. He had already told her this so many times before, why didn’t she listen? By the slight shifting bulge poking out of the side of her leather jacket he could only assume that he had been right in his assumption and it only made things even more frustrating. “I keep telling you-”

    “Yeah, yeah, yeah.” The blonde shook her head and rolled her eyes.

    Lee turned around and leaned back on the counter himself, both crewmembers figuring it was a safer bet to assume that security didn’t want to be involved in whatever was going on with the man who seemed to have not just the one but two black eyes. Kay had seen one of the members of the Ortega, the ship she worked on, come by her and Doctor Karlsson’s office with an injury like that and considering the effort one had to go through to make it happen she could only assume that the person now seated on the bench had done something to deserve it. The crew member had certainly deserved it. It was a punishment that had let him off the hook perhaps a little bit too easy considering what it was he had tried to steal in the first place.

    Looking back out over the crowd she couldn’t help but look at all the people passing her by.

    “There is a brothel a bit further way in, you know.” Lee said and pointed deeper into the station.

    “It’s no fun to hunt when you pay them to stand still.” Kay perked her brow at the man. “But hey, if that’s what you have to do to attract your so-called ‘gentleman callers’…”

    “I don’t know, man. It beats to walking up to every woman you see while hoping they’re both available and down for it.” Lee perked his brow right back before he too caught sight of the ranger and the man with the two black eyes.

    “... It’s hard sometimes though.” He said and continued looking at the man. An earther from the looks of it. “Very hard.”

    “Ew.” Kay put on a mock grimace and motioned towards a passing redhead. “No. Her, that’s who you want.”

    Lancaster gave the redhead a lingering look that diverted elsewhere as soon as she stepped out of sight.

    “I should go over there and say hi...” Lee continued to look at the older one of the two. Hey, age was just a number, right?

    “Lee, he’s security. At worst he’s a goon and at best he’s a nice goon.” Kay shook her head. “I think you might just be better off staying away.”

    “Buzzkill.” The man gave her a mock frown and continued to look back out over the crowds again.

    “You’ll thank me one day, Lee.” The blonde-haired woman snickered.

    Lee’s head shook. “Don’t count on it.”
     
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  8. Astrian Callus

    Messages:
    15
    @Solaris | @Kay | @Corvus Dravere | @Alanna Marston
    Politian Registration ~>
    - Restaurant

    Astrian felt a buzz in his pocket, with a gruff expression he pulled his Hand Terminal out of his rightmost pocket to inspect whatever the notification was about. It was Abbie; one of his crew, his eyes shifted in front of him. Two people to go, he still had time. He accepted the transmission, lifting the hand terminal closer to his mouth. "Hello?" Astrian pulled up a status view of the ship, inspecting it to see if anything had gone wrong already. But it seemed nothing was amiss. "Abbie?" He asked again, checking the volume on his device.

    "Hey boss man." A light voice came from the device, she almost consistently surprised Astrian with her cheerful nature. Abbie was a Martian girl, tough as nails and could work her aware around a ship or a BL16 Automatic Carbine better than most. But still her voice was chipper and soothing, sometimes it made him smile, sometimes it made him reflect on his own less than pleasant countenance. "I'm at the register, what do you want?" Astrian didn't intentionally sound entirely standoffish, he'd just twenty years of practice to perfect that particular form of self defence.

    "Well, we were kinda hoping you might pick us up Chinese or maybe some Tia food? There's a food stand right beside you boss. I'm looking at it, through the cockpits viewport."

    "And what? You couldn't just, get up and get it yourself?"

    "But you're cloooooser."

    "....Fine. I suppose the whole crew will want a portion?"

    "Unless you want someone feeling left out."

    "You lot make this barely profitable."

    "Thanks boss man."

    The call cut cold as Astrian hung up, switching to the D&R Politian app to pay for his fuel. The old lady looked at him with cynical eyes that already screamed of disapproval at his gruff and unkempt countenance. He had heavy bags under his eyes, inserting his Hand Terminals neon blue interface into the Payment slot. "Full refuel, standard." The woman didn't speak a word, her eyes simply lowered as she keyed in his request and took the appropriate amount of funds from his account to cover the fuel. -Service Complete- The machine rattled, pushing out his Hand Terminal back at him. He gave her a fiendishly fake grin and sauntered off, heading in the direction of the nearby food stand.

    He stopped for a second, seeing a man and a women with Burrito's in hand; chowing as they joked loudly. Astrian briskly passed between them, his broad frame having to slide in side the space. A thickly gloved hand passing between them as tapped on the metal of the stand, getting the attention of the owner. "Eight, to go. Make it nine, actually. Extra meat on two of them, one with no meat and one with no veg."

    He hoped he'd accurately recalled their preferences. Mikel was a vegetarian and he knew Caleb didn't eat his greens. The rest was guess work.


     
  9. Corvus Dravere

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    Over the years, he'd found that many people had a sixth sense - it was the sense that said someone was watching you, and that didn't change in space. Perhaps it had come from their ancestors, when they'd traveled the savannah in search of food. Wherever it came from, it didn't really matter; it was there all the same.

    It was that feeling that drew his attention towards the nearby burrito stand, @Kay and her compatriot. He locked eyes with the man for a moment, and Corvus turned to the Marshal. "You get ahold of the Frankfurt?" He asks, and the Marshal nods, still on the communicator.

    Satisfied things were in hand, he moved through the crowds toward the stand, his tall, farmboy broad frame feeding down to a narrow waist that said he was as trim as many spacers. There wasn't exactly a ton of excess calories in paste and void-ready food. His glasses were already running their faces against the crew manifests that had come in, and he watched @Astrian Callus step up to the stand to place an order he couldn't hear.

    Much like Lee, Corvus' jacket bulged at the hip, but as they scanned the crowds they'd likely find most people carrying. They didn't confiscate pistols around here - but you weren't getting anything bigger on station, at least not legally.

    "Y'all havin' a nice meal?" He asks as he comes up, giving his jacket a bit of a tug down over his shoulders. "Sorry for the disturbance. Marshal was just makin' a point about taking no for an answer." There was no hiding that Martian drawl, just like there was no hiding the scar over his eye or the unkempt hair and beard that was just starting to twinge with gray.

    His hand always seemed to hover near his weapon, like a gunslinger of old, but it wasn't threatening in so much as it seemed to be the natural resting state of his body.

    "I'm Corvus, by the by. I'm what passes for the Governor around here." He flicked his chin to Lee and felt the left corner of his lips pull into something approaching a smirk. "Saw yer friend starin', figured it best to clarify. First time here?" He asks.
     
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  10. Irys Akane

    Messages:
    144
    Discord:
    Raziel
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Irys was reminded of the old curse: may you live in interesting times.

    She was living in interesting times right now. A month ago their coalition task force, comprised of both UN and MCRN patrol boats, had been running the shipping lanes. They'd engaged pirates, picked up smugglers and Irys had interrogated potential OPA terrorists. The UN was soft on the belt, worried about their investments. And now the belt had apparently armed enough ships to take out the flagship of the Jupiter Fleet. Irys wasn't so certain. There was a reason they weren't flying with UNN ships any more and Johnson's story had seemed more convincing.

    She passed several typical belters and then a pair of earthers who stood out. The belters seemed tall and slender to her, the earthers short and stocky. She could respect the tenacity of the rockhoppers, but they were also proud people. But what had they really built to be proud of when compared to Mars? They clung to their rocks. Rocks full of priceless isotypes. At least they weren't lazy and entitled.

    The war was coming. It was going to start in the belt. It would end with Martian boots on terran soil.

    The fleet was mobilising but they needed eyes on the ground too. That was why her shuttle had pulled in here. She'd been in zero-g for nearly an hour as it maintained a constant velocity that matched the spin of the rock. From her perspective the swinging arms of the dock had come around to catch her. A few disorientating moments later and she wasn't spinning but under a very light gravity being pulled up into the main docks.

    As the strolled along her implants flashed up some information on several faces the system recognised. Unlike several other intelligence officers she preferred the old fashioned implants that took a feed from her optical nerves and could display information on her view. It could process micro-expressions in near real time, but most of her peers preferred the less invasive focus drugs these days.

    Leiutenant Akane found a seat where several disparate groups had settled for some food. They had a contact on the station and she needed to get an update. It wouldn't take long. Rather than risking a transmission or open conversation she'd just take a copy of his report and skim it overnight. Then she would find a way to ask follow up questions and provide further instructions tomorrow if necessary. If not, she would just be on her way and back to the Strident
     
  11. Astrian Callus

    Messages:
    15
    @Kay | @Corvus Dravere | @Alanna Marston | @Irys Akane | @Solaris

    Astrian was waiting for his order, minding his own business while the other two spoke. Things we're generally on edge in the Belt, given the recent quarantine of Eros; belters weren't particularly fond of U.N or M.C.R.N interference. But, it happened everywhere. Empires meddled, that's just the way of things.

    His ears perked up, hearing that old Martian twang in the aged voice of a man behind him. He felt the space between his shoulder blades tense, like the tip of a rifle had been pressed against his back. It was an age old reaction built into his system from fighting M.C.R.N soldiers in some short skirmishes, funnily enough he felt more on edge around them than Belters. He'd fought belters, detained belters, killed belters far more often than Martians. But maybe that was why, M.C.R.N were far more dangerous than Belters.

    Even if the man behind him wasn't military, he still felt a great unease that convinced him to listen in; slowly tilting his head to listen to the man behind him. Governor, the law of Politian. It was strange having the people he pulled wool over the eyes of on a regular be so close. Astrian focused on the stand in front of him, trying his best to ignore the Governor. His hunch seemed to be right, if he wasn't careful he could be in for some trouble.
     
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  12. Alanna Marston

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    68
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Politian Station
    Food District


    The food district was less crowded than the docks, but the sea of tall Belters wandering throughout was still dense enough to impede Alanna’s view. She kept a tight hold on her duffel bag as she pushed through, eventually arriving at a small burrito stand. Several people were already clustered nearby, including a loudly talking man and woman and a broad-shouldered Earther. With the recent tensions between the UN and the MCR, she decided it would be safest to avoid eye contact with him and mind her own business.

    “One beef-flavored to go, please,” she said to the worker at the front, holding up her hand terminal to pair it with the register. Back on Mars, she’d been able to get real burritos with real beef. Synthetic meat was a close approximation, but, unfortunately, she doubted it would ever be as good as the real thing.

    “Might take a few minutes,” replied the cashier. “Just got a big order.”

    She nodded and leaned against the wall to wait, watching the foot traffic go by. The station’s visible diversity reminded her of Ceres, a sort of melting pot of ethnicities and cultures held together by the common hardships they had to endure to survive. Here on Politian, though, there were more outsiders — she could see a good number of Earthers and Martians, even one person whom she guessed was current or former military by the way she carried herself, though she passed out of sight fairly quickly.

    Alanna also knew that these upper levels of the station were known for being well maintained, often home to wealthy Inners who had decided to come make themselves more of a fortune in the Belt. If she descended lower — or higher, depending on how you thought about it — towards the core of the asteroid, the proportion of Belters would increase. The people in those areas were the ones she was most interested in for her latest piece of journalism.

    Perhaps, though, she would be able to find someone worth talking to up here.
     
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  13. Solaris

    Solaris McClane

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    306
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Politian Station
    Food District


    The hatch gave a creak as it slid open, revealing the docking corridor that led towards a small gathering area. Politian Station wasn't Ceres by any means, but it was large enough to warrant several docking stations for those passing on through or who made it their home. A few transport ships came to refuel along with Belter miners. There were more Martian ships than Solaris would expect, but word had it that Politian was Martian friendly.

    To each their own, I guess, the blonde thought to herself. Beside her Amareis, a dusky skinned woman of forty years gave Solaris a stern expression.

    "One hour. We do not want to spend any more than that here." Amareis did not veil her distaste at having to make an emergency stop at Politian.

    "Alright. I'll have my hand terminal with me." a small wave of the thin, crystal clear rectangle shone bye the South African native's face.

    "Be careful. You don't know what these Belters will do."

    A roll of green eyes came then, Solaris commencing her walk towards the main terminal, making sure Amareis didn't catch it. She had another month with the woman and who knew what else once they reached Callisto? Solaris didn't want to start her new position with a bad start.

    "I'll keep a level eye out." the blonde woman said, giving a half smile over her shoulder to placate the older woman.

    "See that you do." came back right after her, the hatch closing shut.

    Right.

    There was only a slight spin to Politian Station to give it an artificial gravity, so the mag lock boots were mandatory. The walk over to the main terminal wasn't anything to call back home about. There were a few dock workers, their clothes stained with the sweat of a day's work and hair a mused mess. One of the many differences from Luna or Earth. Curious eyes couldn't help but sweep over the show of tattoos that would peak from pale flesh. Eyes that quickly glanced away as soon as any came to swivel at her direction.

    If anything, she would likely stand out the most. She wore the silver and dark grey uniform of Protogen, with their distinct yellow and green patch along her shoulder, First. Fastest. Furthest in script right under it. With her hair back in a ponytail and her face scrubbed clean of any makeup or grime, practically screamed 'Fresh faced Earth Girl'. Not the best state to remain inconspicuous for an hour.

    It was the scent of food that would lead Solaris towards the food district. This is where Solaris would walk alongside @Alanna Marston. Truth be told, it was likely that the young woman would have continued to move along had it not been for the sudden lurch of a child's body running past them at full speed. He knocked right into Solaris, prompting her to lose her balance and step to the side, threatening to bump into the brunette if she were not quick enough.

    "Whoa, hey! Watch it!" Solaris cried out, hands coming up to find her balance.
     
  14. Alanna Marston

    Messages:
    68
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Politian Station
    Food District


    Alanna was about halfway through eating her burrito when the woman walking next to her lurched sideways without warning. Instinctively, her hand flew into her jacket for her weapon, feeling for the rough plastic of the grip and drawing it about halfway out of her pocket before she registered the small child that had just run by. Realizing that the stranger was not in fact making a threat but merely falling over, she reached out to catch the woman’s shoulders and steady her before she got trampled by the crowd.

    “I got you!” she grunted, struggling to keep her footing. It was easy to stop the fall in Politian’s low gravity, but the that also meant it was much easier to slip.

    As she pulled the other woman to her feet, Alanna noted her short stature and uniform. Probably an Earther, then, and recently arrived from an Earther ship.

    “You okay?” she asked, giving a friendly smile. “Everything in one piece?”

    @Solaris
     
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  15. Cpt_Buttersworth

    Cpt_Buttersworth Moderating the shipping lanes

    Messages:
    170
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Captain Buttersworth gurgled and burped uncomfortably as The Saxon lumbered towards Politian Station, last nights beer fueled shenanigans coming back to haunt him. Adjusting himself in his crash couch, he tried and failed to reach for the comms mic dangling from the console above him. Heaving his hungover and beer bloated frame out of the seat, he snatched the microphone from its perch in preparation for announcing to his crew their imminent arrival at the station. Instead, as he pressed down on the activation button, a monstrous burp escaped his mouth, amplified by the ships communication system it bellowed through the vessel for several seconds before he coughed out a spluttering apology and keyed off the mic...

    Clearing his throat he tried again, speaking with a surprisingly clear British accent, "We'll be making port in a few minutes ladies and gentlemen. If you have any business here, see that you are at the airlock in 5, everyone else have a pleasant time and make sure you are back on The Saxon in 6 hours time. Cargo crews please prepare the produce for transport. Buttersworth out."

    The Saxon had been burning at a leisurely pace for the last week on it's usual course through the belt; delivering high quality plant products, grown and manufactured on New Providence to the Belt and beyond. Whilst it was once a warship of the UN Navy, it's guns had not fired in almost 3 years, Buttersworth preferring the safer business of the manufacturing an distribution of beer & cannabis, to holding up colony ships and Earth freighters. Since the flip and burn however, Buttersworth had been burping up the remains of last nights liquid dinner, much to the discomfort of the rest of the bridge crew.

    "This is Saxon to Politian TC, requesting permission to dock." One of the bridge crew, a small woman by the name of Lei spoke into her headset. Lei had been with part of the crew for the last 6 years and as such was one of it's first members. She had grown used to Buttersworth's personality traits and tried her best to keep the vessel running smoothly during it's long haul missions. "Saxon this is Politian TC you are cleared for docking bay 3, offload crews are standing by, welcome back."

    "Acknowledged Politian TC, bringing her in."

    ----

    The docking ring hissed and with a low groan slid to the side. Buttersworth walked out into the humid, warm air of the station, standing at the head of a column of loaders, packed to the brim with kegs of beer. After a moment of absorbing the noise and bustle of the dock, he took a deep breath in and waved the column forwards, handing a terminal to Lei on the front loader. "You're heading to warehouse d65, call me once you've dropped off the produce and are heading back to the ship."

    "Yes Sir, and you?"

    "Hangover cure." With that he turned on his heel and stumbled off into the throng.
     
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  16. Aurelia Juarez

    Aurelia Juarez Hammer and Nails

    Messages:
    91
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers, someone who cares.
    Your own personal Jesus, someone to hear your prayers, someone who's there.
    Feeling unknown, and you're all alone flesh and bone by the telephone.
    Lift up the receiver I'll make you a believer.

    Politian Station
    Food District


    Cinnamon eyes with hazel flecks adjusting to the light provided by the station. Brown skin hid beneath the thin layer of clothing. A flimsy muscle shirt that clung to what little curves her body provided. The shaved hair on the right. Fingerless gloves accented the shrug jacket that bore a small MCRN mark, it was faded but enough to make it known. Twin belts crisscrossed their way across her small hips, combat boots that had seen better days added to the already noisy and crowded food district. From the corner of her eyes, she watched a small bit of commotion from @Solaris and @Alanna Marston but paid them no mind.

    Aurelia's eyes shifted as she turned the corner, her back to the crowd as she marched down the district. A woman on a mission you could say and her mission was a solid bowl of noodles. Keeping her head low there was a glint in her eye as she ran her hand through the small thin patch of hair that curled over the left side of her head. As she let her hands fall to her side she lifted her gaze and walked with that Martian swagger. The swagger of the hardy, tough Martian folk who had to work for all that they had.

    She spotted a noodle shop that was crowded, better than an automat any day she figured. As her boots pushed their way through. Her hands were out first as she squeezed between the bodies that crowded the door. Hands to her jacket as she tugged on it, the recycled denim texture felt good between her fingers.
     
    #16 Aurelia Juarez, Nov 27, 2017
    Last edited: Dec 6, 2017
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  17. Kay

    Kay Lancaster

    Messages:
    89
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    “Oh sh- sorry!” Kay panicked and blurted as the man stepped between her and Lee. Her face contorted into a small grimace as she looked over at Lee from behind the man’s back. Passing around the man to place herself in a far less obstructing position and gave the man a small nod and an an awkward smile to truly emphasise her own embarrassment at what had happened. Lee meanwhile raised his brow at her and she looked right back.

    “Don’t see why-” He tried to say something.

    “It’s polite.” Kay tried to say something as well.

    “No, it makes you look like an awkward, indecisive seal cub.” Lee shook his head.

    Meanwhile Lancaster’s attention had shifted from Lee and to the man approaching them, an unspoken ‘oh no’ evident on her as he came ever closer. Lee got curious at the sight, turned around and offered a nearly pitch-perfect mirror of the expression that had taken over Kay's features.

    “Yes, sir.” He offered with an awkward mix of his root Martian drawl that had blended well enough with a great many other accents that he had picked up along the road from a short lifetime working transports between planets and the belt. “It’s of no concern, sir.”

    And then the title was dropped and both crew members of the Ortega felt the air thicken just a little bit more. Perhaps moreso on Kay’s end, knowing full well how her friend had ogled the very same man that had now approached them. Lee always had a thing for authority, it just went to figure he had the luck of staring at the man who ran the place around here as well then. She didn’t know whether to cry or laugh at this point, but at least the man was kind enough to approach them.

    “First time for me, yeah.” Kay nodded and played it cool instead of bursting out into a crying laughter. “Pretty sure Lee here has been around at least once before.”

    “Uh, yeah, certainly have.” Lee nodded along with what his partner was saying. “Might be my third time or so? Our ship operate a business that delivers packages and other items that many people seem to forget in the interplanetary ecosystem.”

    “We’re couriers.” Kay clarified for the sake of brevity and to not let Lee overcomplicate things again. He had a tendency to do that. “And we also have the occasional food run every now and then to some of the more distant planets and stations.”

    “Right. What she said.” Lee nodded as the temperature in the room seemed to rise, or was that just him? “Is there anything we can help you with, sir?”
     
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  18. Irys Akane

    Messages:
    144
    Discord:
    Raziel
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    There was a conscious barrier that caught the stiffening of her spine before it showed. The Governor and any staff he had with him were not people to carry out this little exchange under. In a manner that was trained, but now came naturally she turned on her seat and let her gaze smoothly pan across the area. It wouldn't seem as if she was looking for anything in particular. She let her eyes drift out of focus, never settling on anyone.

    It was enough for the implant to process facial features. And the Governor had a record. MCRN, discharged after a long career. Distinguished, as much as any could be without actually having anyone to fight. Irys idly wondered if he would be the type of man to try and re-enlist when the war came, which would be soon. Unless the information was stored in a Compartment she didn't have access to - which was a distinct possibility - the man had no more official involvement with the MCR.

    Irys held up a slender finger to get the attention of someone to order some food. For now she stayed where she was. The contact would observe the situation and make a judgement call on whether to meet here or bail and find a way to rearrange. She watched and listened without seeming to do either. Within her head she formed a structure that was familiar to her: the decks of the MCRN Strident. Irys started to file away information: names, faces, mannerisms and occupations. The implant would record it all, but this came easy to her and saved committing such facts to memory in her down time when it probably wouldn't hold any further value.
     
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  19. Solaris

    Solaris McClane

    Messages:
    306
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Politian Station
    Food District


    Blue eyes swung to settle upon the face of a youthful brunette. There was a mixture of alarm that went washing over Solaris’s expression, followed by awareness and then mild amusement. Okay, bumping into someone else wasn’t grounds to start questioning everything.

    Well, unless the kid had been a pickpocket.

    “Yeah, one piece so far.” she added wryly, straightening amidst the crowd. So she wasn’t the only one wanting to get a meal. Turning back to @Alanna Marston, Solaris gave a sheepish expression.

    “Sorry about that. Didn’t mean to run into you. How about you? You alright?”


    Off to the right @Aurelia Juarez among others were looking to fill their own belly. It wouldn’t be long before @Cpt_Buttersworth might find himself nearby the female pair in his quest to find a hangover cure.
     
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  20. Corvus Dravere

    Messages:
    20
    Character Biography:
    Bio
    Corvus knew all the reactions his position would garner, and that pendulum swung the gamut from disdain to awe. Shock was the usual one, though in this case it seemed more muted, cautious surprise than anything else. @Kay and her friend - Lee, apparently - hadn't expected him to either be, well, in charge, polite, or both.

    "Corvus." He corrects, "Ain't nobody calls me 'sir' around these parts, except maybe my daughter when she feels she's in trouble." He always thought of himself as a family man, and the affable air he tended to exude would likely back that up.

    Smiling at the pair, his eyes flicked to the movement of @Irys Akane, but found little of interest and returned his gaze to the pair before him. "You're already doing plenty to help. Rock hoppers gotta eat, after all." He, of course, meant them taking food to rock hoppers rather than calling them as such.

    "Do make yourself comfortable, though. We tend to pride ourselves on a welcoming atmosphere..." he paused, then smirked, his full lips tugging wide until the barest hint of white teeth showed past the tangle of his beard, "...at least when the troublemakers aren't acting up." There was another pause, and his dark eyes - tinted by the shades he wore - settled fully onto Lee with something approaching amusement glimmering behind them.

    "You alright?" He asks, "I hope I haven't made you uncomfortable in some fashion."
     
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