Log:A Two Second Tour
With the salvage operation mere days away, Idan has requested a look at the best (only) ship owned by the members of the Traders Union: the Doaba Hermi. "I have always preferred the Ghtroc aesthetic to the Corellian style," the Neimoidian admits idly as he looks at the ship, awaiting the owner's arrival.
The arthritic boarding ramp descends with all the vigor of a mummified corpse and agony of a gorg that's been stuck to the heel of a Ronto for three days. It doesn't sound good.
- CTHUUUUUN....* The last half meter is a loose one and strikes the tarmac soundly.
"Blasted, borker-janked, no good--" *CLANG* a little can of some lubricant gets punted out of the Ghtroc's neck and skids around the pad below. "Piece of grime." The rag sails on after, but only makes it a fluttering few feet. And then there's silence. Maybe the voice inside has caught a glimpse of the fancy robes lingering around down there?
"...Yeah?" Muri's face emerges, legs dropped into a low crouch to peer out. "Oh. Hello there! Come to see this magnificent vessel of happy sailings?"
Idan Jensa's left eye twitches as the groaning ramp limps its way to the ground. He draws a slow breath once it has thudded to the duracrete underfoot. When Muri appears, the Neimoidian answers, "Despite all else, the ship that carries us all on this enterprise will be magnificent, indeed. Hello, Muri. Yes, I.. would like to see your ship, if I may? The cargo capacity, whether you have need of repair tools we might need.. load lifters, if we must turn to salvage, and so on." He pauses. "Is this.. a bad time?"
"Nah, c'mon up," Netep wipes her hands on her slacks and motions for him to set foot on the complaintive ramp. And while he's doing that, she scurries down to hastily collect her littered items and trots them back aboard the ship like a good port steward. "Just uh...y'know. Housekeeping stuff. Lemme drop this and I'll give you the grand tour!" She finds an length of entry way(central foyer) that looks remarkably unremarkable and just as good as the next to serve as a dumping ground for the empty lube can and oil rag.
Idan Jensa bends down to pick up the errant can of lubricant, handing it back to Muri as she descends, before ascending the ramp along with the ship's owner. "Of course," he notes simply to talk of housekeeping. "Where would you like to begin?" Idan wonders lightly.
Aft of the entry ramp in the "neck" of this testudinal-shaped craft, the central foyer is little more than a lengthy strength of corridor running fore-aft and becomes largely occluded when the ramp compartment above descends to grant access to cockpit. About a meter of the no-skid tape stickies the slate-colored deck plating off the entry ramp but the rest of the foyer is smooth and polished. Save for the occasional ding in the pale gray bulkhead. Cool, blue-white light strips illuminate the way along the floor-wall junction and ceiling.
A pair of crew bunks and both Forward Mechanical rooms are accessible from here via the intersecting aft-star corridors. The cockpit and miscellaneous upper level functions (fuel and consumables, life support, reactor, weapons control compartments, and docking arms) are reached here - via the retractable ramp above. The ramp is fully sealed, preventing depressurization between decks. Continuing aft will lead into the ring corridor and access to other public areas and the two-deck cargo holds.
"Guess you might as well see her brain before her body, eh?" Muri waggles a pointing finger at the general aft-ward stretch of corridor. "Back up that way 'bout four more steps," she advises and moves to do so herself before keying a little code into a tiny wall panel. A second ramp appears! This one is much more quiet and emits a soothing hum as it lowers from a hatch in the ceiling. The incline's an easy thirty-eight degrees, doable enough for most droids to ascend. "Watch your hat at the top."
"As you say," Idan agrees with dry amusement. When advised he backs up four steps as instructed, then adds a fifth, just to be sure. "Ah," he muses in approval. "I.. thank you for the warning. Forte?" he bids the 2 meter tall droid, "Perhaps you had best wait here."
"Hey, J'ni," Muri greets as she climbs through to the next deck and steps into the cockpit. Seated in one of the rear stations is a J9 worker droid and it barely looks up from its task to register the entry. "We need to talk about your last PO from lubitube, yeah? Later, though."
The droid blats something in Huttese then swivels its head around to stare blankly with multifaceted eyes at the Neimoidian.
"J'ni, Idan. Idan...J'ni." Muri strides forward between the rows of consoles to the primary pilot seat and folds her hands possessively over the back of the chair, scans through a quick something on her screen, then turns about face to shrug at her guest. "Well, this is it. Bit of work in progress, far as the interior's concerned," a nod to the skeletal chairs in that back row, "But it's gettin there."
"J'ni," Idan greets in another moment of dry amusement upon finding another J9 Worker. His regard passes over the remainder of the cockpit quickly, taking note of a few details. "Capacity of one hundred thirty-five tons.. A stock hyperdrive, which I imagine you will use a measure of your profits to upgrade in the future.. the critical systems seem in good repair. Engine output looks to be well maintained. How does the vessel maneuver?" he asks the pilot.
"She's nimbler than she looks. Great on the swivel, just not the sprint. But yeah...plan to install some better muscle sooner than later. Took me three years to save up the cred to /buy/ her, replace my old wings. Since then, the income's been a bit more stable so won't be long, we hope." Netep's lips press into a thin smile.
"It is prudent to note, for the record, that I have only been a part of this 'we' for three days," the J9 informs."
"Recent purchase," Muri whispers to Idan on her squeezed way around him to the ramp and down. "C'mon. Numbers are numbers but it takes a good /look/ to really appreciate how big an arse she's got."
"This is good," Idan observes of the vessel's nimbleness. "Especially in operations like the one ahead, deft maneuver is preferable to raw speed." A small nod, and a quiet return of, "I see," to J'ni's newness. As Muri squeezes past, Idan shifts to accommodate, and follows. "Very well, I will look at the size of her arse." Such a dignified creature, one might wonder if he even gets it.
Muri snickers her way quietly down the ramp as a 'mature' twenty-nine year old space gypsy must do in the wake of her own jokes and plods on along aft-ward. Both arms rise up to point out the starboard and port side crew berths and mechanical rooms as they pass the hatches for such en route to the soft, blue glow of the ring corridor.
The same dark deck plating and lighter wall panels encountered earlier encircle the beating heart of this ship - the Reactor - thereby forming a 'ring'. Cool, calm lighting radiates all around and a few little plants are anchored to the wall by decorative glass capsules, full of nutrient gel, as are some texturally rich tiles of black rock. There is no direct access to the reactor here, but there are hatchways leading into the galley/lounge, the Captain's cabin, the communal fresher, and additional crew bunkrooms from port and starboard side.
"This is the most critical piece of home," she introduces, and pauses to point in either direction of awaiting curve. "Galley, Captain's cabin thataway, additional crew and passenger bunks, community fresher that way...cargo's to the far rear. THIS," both hands lay against the bulkhead directly in front of her. "Is the beating heart. Reactor core. Only accessible from the topside," a point up to the unseen level above. "Thirsty?" and on that note, she disappears into the righthand curve toward galley.
Idan Jensa follows Netep's pointing as each piece of the ship is pointed out, Reyes narrowing and hatted head tilting to a curious angle as he regards the bulkhead that contains the reactor. "What if it needs repair in flight- must the entire hold be vented?" the Neimoidian wonders quietly, before nodding to thirst. "A drink would be... most welcome," he decides aloud.
"Nah," Muri turns another corner, round and round and into the lounge/galley space. "Unless there's a fire then frankly that's the easiest way to go. I mean. If it were just me and I were up there," a point above their heads. "Hasn't happened yet, though." A smile flashes over shoulder as she roots around in the little cold storage box to find a couple bottles of Corellian ale. Deviating slightly from business, she holds one aloft and says "I got this or some Namana juice." Two forms of inebriation/debatable aphrodisiac, it'd seem. One's full of vitamins and goodness, tho! "I mean, there's always water, too." Already, her hand's putting one of the beers back while the other hand cracks the top off on reflective cabinetry.
"But back to the reactor - four different hatches on upper deck gives me plenty of wiggle room to get at it. This here floor is lower deck, see? Whole other world upstairs." Muri world.
Idan Jensa regards the offered bottles of.. unnamed drink, and weighs it against the offered Namana juice. "One of those, with my thanks," he decides, mentally rolling the dice of chance. "Drink is very prominent among humans, is it not?" He notes the manner in which Netep pops off the cap with dry amusement. Her description of the upper and lower decks draws an, "Ah. I see- and.. you have grown accustomed to residing in your own world, I expect?" he queries, deadpan.
"My 'world' is wherever I care to take flight, Sir Jensa," Netep holds her bottle briefly by the teeth while popping open a can of the namana juice for Idan. The label's got some sorta lurid cartoon on it that leers back at the drinker. She hands it off to him while taking a swig of her ale. "Which I 'spect overlaps with an infinite number of other little worlds out there, so in a word....No. And yet, yes. 'Doaba Hermi' - peaceful solitude. My sanctuary among the stars and portal to all peoples, across the galaxy. Complete immersion to the point where it's difficult to discern what /my/ culture might've been, anymore, were it not for the numerous influences of others."
Muri doubles back through the galley to the ring and finishes the 180 degree path to the cargo access hatches. Without a word, she punches in her code and the hatch snaps widely open to reveal a double decker hold. The actual storage capacity is limited to this 'ground' level space, a little over two meters in height. Above, there is a catwalk system and hoist for personnel to operate and oversee cargo exchange. Also, access points to the escape pods/docking arms located in the rear 'fins' of this turtle. "I give you - 135 tons of potenial. She loads from her belly. Pad port and starboard sides'll drop down to load, off load...even in the vacuum of space. This hold automatically locks down, seals shut in the event of lift activation, so any explosive depressurization won't bork the rest of the ship." As grand as she obviously thinks this space is, there is one elephant /missing/ from the hold. An actual loader droid or truck. Maybe that's the reason it's currently a ghost town.
"Engineering's down that way in the tail," she points waaaaay across to a hatch directly opposite theirs. "I've got a little toolkit but I'm no engineer, yeah? Decent with general repairs and the like as they pop up but for /real/ service and upgrades, I turn to the pros. Or a droid. Mine's pretty useless with manual labor and technical ability, but if one among us has got an astromech or some such that'll sweet talk to the computer better'n I can in the event of an emergency, we'll have better luck getting that derelict to fly again. An' as you can see, I'm lacking heavy equipment, so here's hopin' there's some still onboard the bulky."
Idan Jensa has a bit of a challenge in drinking out of the can, as Neimoidian lips don't work quite so dextrously as other species. He manages it without spilling on himself, as he follows Netep through the ship. "Once we are rich.. Droids. Many more droids." He eyes the can again, curious at the lewd label, before taking another taste. "I would imagine there are- the prior captain fled in a shuttle, heavy machinery would hardly be a first priority, seeing as how he abandoned the cargo in his flight. Hmm." Another taste. "Perhaps the J-9 droids will be of more use than we expected in communicating with any binary loadlifter we might find." Imaginary loot! The most exciting kind of loot! *sip* "This will be very opportune- *A* very opportune.. opportunity." *sip* Pause. "I should leave," he declares plainly and without preamble. Another one-beat pause and he turns on one heel and walks (mostly in a straight line) down the corridor. Whether it is toward the exit ramp, the refresher, or a bunbk is up to chance.