The Time and The Place

[Ecthelion]

Sigbjørn Sigmarrson speaking. Docking permission requested. People of the big asteroid right there, anyone awake? This is the pilot requesting for a cold beer and the Raghnilldr looking for a nice dock to sleep.

[Thumper]

Tiv wipes sweat from his forehead as he’s heading to his cabin to shower.

Serpent, open a Comm link to the watch Officer.

Hey, Remington! You fall asleep? Ya have an incoming call and fighter craft. Ya gonna answer him?

[The Bindoner]

Blackrock Traffic Control cuts in, a calm female voice that is clearly another robotic system:

Fighter Ragnhildr, registered to merchant vessel Myrgjǫl Skyldr-Byrding, of Clan Ásgeirr. You are cleared for approach.

No prior docking arrangements have been made.

Please move to and remain in the allocated zone for vessel Myrgjǫl Skyldr-Byrding.

Docking facilities are available.

Shuttle facilities are available.

Coordinates for a parking orbit "above" Blackrock are transmitted to the fighter, and a beacon appears on the craft's radar screen.

OOC: "shuttle facilities" consist of robotic "taxi" craft that transport personnel between ships in orbit and the station.

[Tiglath]

As the Serpent begins to slowly stir with the first signs of diurnal life Raven softly steals through the darkeness of the ship's artificial night. Stealthily padding barefoot into the warriors' hall she carefully places Battle Hag and her boots next to her cot before climbing in. The renowned Raider and "Name" of repute among Oghman warriors allows herself a contented smile in the darkness.

[Ecthelion]

Copy that.

I hope this dandy transport service doesn't cost too much. I said to Raghnilldr.

[Tiglath]

Hearing Tiv's comm cast Raven reasons that since she's awake and now back where she's expected to be it seems only reasonable for the day to catch up with her. She gives an uncharacteristically mellow smile and then grabs her own comm and calls the Serpent herself "Serpent, on my authority, open the hangar to admit the fighter Ragnhildr".

She then casts her call to all bridge stations "Remington Many Names! If you are practicing Freyja's rites with your young acolyte then you would do well to look to the sensitivity of your ears! If I find you are asleep on watch you can look forward to communing with Rán - in person!"

Raven decides that her hangover is tolerable and since it seems that the day has chased her down she may as well get on with it. She freshens up and then dons her gear before heading to the bridge.

[Thumper]

Hearing Raven’s rant to Many-Names, invokes a smile on Tiv’s face.

“Serpent, please wake Kar with a rousing and loud playing of Ozzie Osborne’s- Crazy Train! First 10 seconds only. Then inform him that he has a ship and pilot to meet.”

[The Bindoner]

The Serpent responds with a clipped Acknowledged before adding Asss you command, Raid Leader Sssorrow.

Sigbjørn recieves a series of messages:

From the Cunning Serpent:

Prestr Sigmarrson, of the Ragnhildr, Raid Leader Sorrow authorises your entry to my lairhangar


From Blackrock:

Registration of craft Ragnhildr transferred to Oghma vessel Slœgr Ormr.

Docking authorisation confirmed.

Flightpath confirmed.

Coordinates sent.

For safety, please remain within within the assigned course parameters.

Welcome to Blackrock.

The console in front of Sigbjørn displays a pre-plotted route, and radar beacons light up on his screen as waypoints. It is a simple task to fly under minimal thrust to the point on the asteroid indicated, where the outer doors are already open. The tiny fighter enters the airlock designed for 500dt warships and waits, holding station with its Grav-thrusters as the outer doors close, atmosphere is pumped in, and the inner doors open. Beyond is the hangar proper, with the Cunning Serpent at rest. Sigbjørn recocnises it, of course, it is one of the oldest Clan Ásgeirr ships, and distinctively decorated.

[Ecthelion]

While waiting for someone, Sigbjørn decides to take a photo of the Cunning Serpent, printing it right away with his instant camera, to add it in his collection of ship's pics on the wall of his fighter.

[Gorethirster]

Remington had come to the conclusion that being the watch officer in the dead of night was not only stupid, it was also dumb. They were parked in a hangar on a friendly-enough space rock. He didn't need to sit his ass down and stare out the windshield to watch for hazards, and he wasn't going to spend his time watching porn or fantasizing about murder or whatever the rest of the barbarians did when they had nothing to do. He figured that the dead of night was the perfect time to catch up on the projects down in engineering that weren't strictly necessary, but were starting to make him itch.

Tonight's project was to fix a particle leak in one of the jump accelerator coils which would, given another 20 or 30 years, mildly irradiate part of the sub-decking structure. The official repair was to disassemble half the coil and replace the shielding and support structures. That took the drive offline for almost two weeks with a good manual labor crew. Aside from the other drive slaves, Remington had no faith in the help he'd get from Blackrock. The unofficial, but perfectly effective, solution was to to heat a metal-resin matrix and apply repeated coatings to the leaking shielding area. That's why when the comm went off Remington was upside down under the floor of engineering, slathering solder all over the outside of the jump coil.

The comm cought him totally off guard, and he dropped the soldering iron, only to catch the hot part, swear viciously, and drop it again. He then frantically scrabbled around for it before it melted something important, smacked his head on a beam, burnt his fingers again, and got it. He then began the nine-foot slither from where he was under the dect to the access panel. (Had he followed protocol he would have simply taken out the floor panel, but by the jump lords there are so many damn bolts!) In the process of speed slithering though a live engineering space he acquired a lovely selection of bumps and bruises, which his undershirt and work pants did nothing at all to pad.

Burnt, bruised, bleeding slightly, and intensely frustrated that he'd need to crawl all the way back to finish the job, Remington picked up the comm.

With acid in his voice, Remington greets the caller:"Incoming fighter craft, you have permission to dock. Though where we're going to put a fighter inside the Serpent only the Lords know. Your cold beer is somebody else's problem. If you want that sort of thing, maybe you could try showing up some time that isn't in the dead of night. But please, enjoy your stay on our lovely vessel. Try not to scratch any paint, we just touched it up. Will there be anything else, or can I get back to keeping this craft flying?"

Remington is vaguely aware that he probably shouldn't be mouthing off to anyone who's specifically requesting permission to share their dock, but he figures he can hide out under the floor in engineering long enough for it all to blow over. So with one more venomous litany he returns to the sub-deck, bringing the comm with him this time.

[Ecthelion]

With acid in his voice, Remington greets the caller:"Incoming fighter craft, you have permission to dock. Though where we're going to put a fighter inside the Serpent only the Lords know. Your cold beer is somebody else's problem. If you want that sort of thing, maybe you could try showing up some time that isn't in the dead of night. But please, enjoy your stay on our lovely vessel. Try not to scratch any paint, we just touched it up. Will there be anything else, or can I get back to keeping this craft flying?"

For the Jotnar, I could share some alcohol I made, if this can relax your spirit. What do you think?

[Gorethirster]

Heading the reply, Remington realizes he was a little more bitter than was called for. He takes a deep, steadying breath before he keys the comm again.

"A drink might sooth some of the bruises I just picked up. I'll take you up on that when you land. Just let me finish some work on the drive coils."

Remington is assuming the pilot doesn't know his status yet, or he wouldn't be offering him a drink. But he may as well drink it if it's on offer.

[hardrocks]

“Serpent, please wake Kar with a rousing and loud playing of Ozzie Osborne’s- Crazy Train! First 10 seconds only. Then inform him that he has a ship and pilot to meet.”

Kar is uncermoniously awakened, not by some god awful loud "music", but by Regina repeatedly thumping him, almost in time with the bass, demanding he turn the fracking alarm clock off.

Having done so and ascertaining the reason for the unwanted disturbance, he makes a tactical decision to go back to sleep for a bit and leave guest relations to Many Names.

[Thumper]

Not knowing what the response was to his wake-up call, Tiv showers and dresses quickly. He heads out to meet the new kid on the block.

**Edited**

Holding his hand out to Ecthilion, Tiv says:

Ecthilion, Welcome to the Cunning Serpent! It has been quite some time since we have crossed paths! Nice fighter you have there. How’s she running? Maintained well?

[Ecthelion]

Not knowing what the response was to his wake-up call, Tiv showers and dresses quickly. He heads out to meet the new kid on the block.

Holding his hand out to Ecthilion, Tiv says:

Ecthilion, Technical Commander Tivali Thingvallir. Call me Tiv. No, I’m not the Skippare. Honestly, we haven’t really figured out yet my roll on the crew. You see, I only came aboard yesterday.

Nice fighter you have there. How’s she running? Maintained well?

Once the two are walking around and talking about the fighter, Tiv says:

I tend to know of most of the Corsairs in the clan’s service…at least if they’ve been around a while. There are not nearly enough of us! How is it I have never heard of one of our clan’s pilot’s. You don’t appear to be too young.

Hello Technical Commander Tiv. I think you are waiting for someone else. My name's Sigbjørn and I'm very doutbful right now. People without cold beer, strange Echtelion pilot, captains awake in the middle of the night,people without a role in the crew. And you guys said you haven't cold beer? Sigbjørn laugh.

what about my pilot clan, master?

[Thumper]

**Edited**

Ah, Sigbjorn. You’re too late…We drank all the ale last night..among other stuff. Of course, most of the crew is sleeping last night off. Drink has an opposite effect on me. Can only sleep a few hours if I go to sleep buzzed…unless totally soused. But that hurts! My days of binging are long past. We’ll see how today goes. May be another celebration soon…big one.

Things are going to get busy today, and I needed to get a few things done before starting. For instance, you see that floating security disk over there? She needs a grenade launcher installed in her empty slot. And, I need to arrange a thing. Should have that done by the time Eno has breakfast ready.

I’m assuming you’ll want a room. Most of the hangar bay staterooms are open. Let me check…yes, feel free to settle into room 5. Kar will work out a on-board stateroom assignment. As you probably know, Kar Tolerson is Skippare of the Cunning Serpent….and Raven Sorrow is Raid Leader. I take it both are still sleeping off hangovers. They’ll be around soon enough. You’ve lucked out getting assigned to them, but don’t ever tell Raven I said that...

[Ecthelion]

Things are going to get busy today, and I needed to get a few things done before starting. For instance, you see that floating security disk over there? She needs a grenade launcher installed in her empty slot. And, I need to arrange a thing. Should have that done by the time Eno has breakfast ready.

Ah need some help? Maybe we can finish it quickly together. Also, who is Eno?

I see Skippare Kar Tolerson and Raid Leader Raven Sorrow…your new superiors, are still sleeping. They’ll be around soon enough. You’ve lucked out getting assigned to them, but don’t ever tell Raven I said that. .

my new superior? I did not know about any assignment. Maybe I should talk to them.
And...why am I lucked out? So terrible? Sigbjørn is confused enough and he starts to touch one of his stone rune with his hands to calm down.

[Thumper]

Sorry about the slight. Good to see you have truly given up your priestly name and go by your real name again, Sigbjorn.

Am I to understand you have cut ties with the Priesthood. I pray that is true!

If you are up for it, I could use a hand making the install. I ordered it last night. A station robot should be around any time now to deliver it.

Oh yes, Eno is our very hospitable Stewardess slave. She’s excellent.

If you want to stow your gear in your temporary hangar stateroom, you can assist me in a few.

[Tiglath]

As Tiv and Sigbjørn continue their conversation they hear a sound from the darkness below the crouched form of the Cunning Serpent. Technically described as a "mechanical transient" the sound comes again from the darkened work area and is recognised as whetstone being drawn over carbonsteel. A female Oghman raider emeges partly from the darkness but due to her sable hair and dark attire the shadows seem to cling to her form. The warrior is clearly a veteran. She bears many sidearms holstered at waist, hip and even in an Imperial shoulder rig but it's the length of the naked single edged swordblade that somehow captures and reflects the little available light. Both Tiv and Sigbjørn recognise it - and therefore its bearer.

Raven Sorrow's voice sounds across the hangar "This is a day set for blood and so Battle Hag bade me rise early".

Sigbjørn recognises the young raider who earnestly sought his instruction as a priest on the gods and their ways. She was an attentive learner but, perhaps to his dismay, turned her knowledge not to the benefit of the church of the Aesir but instead to steep herself in dark renown and thereby increase her reputation. It seems that the driven and ambitious young raider Sigbjørn once knew is now very much the finished article - seemingly every ruthless inch a Raid Leader.

"Prestr Sigbjørn Sigmarrson the Serpent knows you and I greet you... one more. It seems you have chosen a different path and now fly fighters? Well, we have room for fighter pilots aboard - but none for heretics!" She glances at Tiv "That position is filled". She states levelly and with emphasis "The young wolves of my warband are guided by their faith and my Shaman "Many Names" shares the insights of the gods. It is known". She pauses as if to establish her last statement as a given. She then continues "So, unless you are here to dissuade folk from their proper faith, welcome aboard". She gestures inside the ship "Come and eat. Eno is making breakfast". She defty passes the hand and a half kreigsmesser that Sigbjørn recalls she apparantly dedicated to the goddess Hel into her offhand and offers the other to him in greeting.

[Thumper]

Tiv rolls his eyes, then stands with a bemused grin upon his face enjoying Raven’s theatrics. But he does nothing that would overtly undermine her stage. He just enjoys the show.