fellowknight
The Devil In The Details
When the Psyrakons had finished their meals and drinks and headed off to get some rest, Rex procured their plates and dumped them in the sink, thankful that both had "licked" their pates clean. Hot water would melt the left grease and a few drops of Dawn would easily clean away the traces, leaving a rather lovely tropical smell.
If Simus and Jessica had stuck around long enough, they might have enjoyed it. Either way, Rex enjoyed the silent satisfaction in washing dishes; it gave him time to multi-task by setting his body on "auto-pilot" and scouring his memory banks for upcoming tasks and things that need to checked on.
It was also one of the many occasions Rex would've wished he had nostrils and cilia to perceive the soothing fragrance. Good thing he wasn't programmed to have a desire for anything aside from being assigned to work and completing it.
That's where he took pride in his handy-work; domestic or violent, Rex was known to be clean, precise, and discreet with any and all task he was assigned to, given the correct authorization.
Pre-set coordinates for Therin provided Rex with a decreasing timer of nine hours, fifty-four minutes, and forty-eight seconds in his upper right peripheral. Sufficient time to run several diagnostic checks and maintenance updates, clean and reload the torpedo launchers and laser batteries, air out the engine room, restock the deep freezer in the kitchen, work on his combat module, and fulfill Baroth's request of re-warming the tater-tot casserole and serving it with a glass of concord grape juice.
Normally an odd request, but Rex wasn't designed for judgment as his developers feared it would impair his ability to deliver quality service to his buyers. Though the memory of how Baroth had acquired Rex was absent, he provided the service he was programmed to and took pride in it since.
On route to the cargo hold, he popped in the med-bay momentarily to check on Oracle and Baroth, but decided not to interrupt. Oracle seemed more quiet than usual, irregular behavior, especially for her. But Rex calculated it might worsen the atmosphere and headed on his way to the cargo hold to begin his full-body diagnostics for the Hustler, humming an excerpt from Ragnar The Red along the way.
Oracle watched the screen, even after completing several medical scans and monitoring the live vitals for seemingly countless hours, on watch for the slightest increase/decrease in heart pulses or the smallest spike in activity on the board. His diagnostics had been minimized for ease of access and convenience in monitoring.
He was stabilized, finally, and had plenty of time to rest. Oracle made sure of that. Now he got the easy part: sleeping it off until, like always, he grew restless and became an amateur escape artist. Luckily, Oracle had taken the liberty of preparing a sedative for that. She giggled to herself, remembering the last time he was on bed rest and tried to escape. He escaped alright, if only in exchange for the cold floor and another three hour nap.
She smirked, tilting her head to the side as she peered through the glass of the medical monitor at Baroth, flat on his back, sound unconscious.
She thought back to the stories she found, by her own research, adventures in a primitive age. Adventures including Baroth and his "bull-headed" tactics and battle wounds. How he survived so many millennia without the proper equipment or technology perplexed Oracle, piqued her interest. She still hadn't found a valid, reliable result. Maybe he'd spill eventually, if she pushed enough.
But maybe it didn't matter either. He was here and together they'd made decent credits and had decent adventures of their own.
He'd freed her from an end she wasn't ready to face. Though, he himself would never know the truth.
Stubborn bastard, i'll give you that..
But something pried her attention. There. Upper left corner of the screen, first tab. His brain activity? No that couldn't be right. She extended a finger and maximized the tab, reading the flashing vitals and multicolored shroud encompassing the cerebrum. She checked, double checked. Dreaming? It wasn't too uncommon, but it had caught her by surprise.
She pushed the monitor aside, hung by a single mechanical arm bolted into the wall, and rolled over to Baroth's side, placing a hand on his.
A moment of silence passed before she said it.
"You know, I wish I could dream sometimes too.. Lucky bastard.." She mumbled in finish, rolling back to her place and pulling the monitor back down.
Simus and Jessica in tow as well, having sobered up from jet-lag and digested alcohol, and better for it. Baroth had indulged in a guiltless glass of Argonian Whiskey, along with last-minute splash of cold water to the face. He'd decided to do away with the Caffeine X.
As far as he was concerned, he had all the sleep he'd need for a while.
Plus, he was already dying, and he didn't need to die any faster.
He stopped short of the group, all but Skylar and Aden, in time to catch Lyssa's suggestion of finding an inconspicuous base of operations.
He gave a greeting nod, then one towards Lyssa.
"Last I remember, the Empire didn't give two pl*pss about the underworld. We could start there. I know a few people, might be able to store us discreetly. Assuming they all haven't been gutted. If I'm right, then the Empire also keeps the surface a polar opposite: shiny and clean, to a noticeable degree." He looked between Corvis, Lyssa, and Dah'Sharra. "Unfortunately, your barbeque with those Imperial Intelligence agents won't lend us much of a lease here above-ground. Empire's almost as paranoid as the Dominion, so I'm sure they've got eyes all over the place."
He shrugged. "No offense, of course. pl*ps's gotta happen sooner or later, and it happens to us all."
(If any of this seems off or if I legitimately made a mistake, don't hesitate to tell me and i'll fix it right away. The hyperspace situation had me a little confused, so if I got anything wrong, just give me a holler. Not literally.. I'm frightened by loud sudden noises.. AGH! Damn remote..)
If Simus and Jessica had stuck around long enough, they might have enjoyed it. Either way, Rex enjoyed the silent satisfaction in washing dishes; it gave him time to multi-task by setting his body on "auto-pilot" and scouring his memory banks for upcoming tasks and things that need to checked on.
It was also one of the many occasions Rex would've wished he had nostrils and cilia to perceive the soothing fragrance. Good thing he wasn't programmed to have a desire for anything aside from being assigned to work and completing it.
That's where he took pride in his handy-work; domestic or violent, Rex was known to be clean, precise, and discreet with any and all task he was assigned to, given the correct authorization.
Pre-set coordinates for Therin provided Rex with a decreasing timer of nine hours, fifty-four minutes, and forty-eight seconds in his upper right peripheral. Sufficient time to run several diagnostic checks and maintenance updates, clean and reload the torpedo launchers and laser batteries, air out the engine room, restock the deep freezer in the kitchen, work on his combat module, and fulfill Baroth's request of re-warming the tater-tot casserole and serving it with a glass of concord grape juice.
Normally an odd request, but Rex wasn't designed for judgment as his developers feared it would impair his ability to deliver quality service to his buyers. Though the memory of how Baroth had acquired Rex was absent, he provided the service he was programmed to and took pride in it since.
On route to the cargo hold, he popped in the med-bay momentarily to check on Oracle and Baroth, but decided not to interrupt. Oracle seemed more quiet than usual, irregular behavior, especially for her. But Rex calculated it might worsen the atmosphere and headed on his way to the cargo hold to begin his full-body diagnostics for the Hustler, humming an excerpt from Ragnar The Red along the way.
Oracle watched the screen, even after completing several medical scans and monitoring the live vitals for seemingly countless hours, on watch for the slightest increase/decrease in heart pulses or the smallest spike in activity on the board. His diagnostics had been minimized for ease of access and convenience in monitoring.
He was stabilized, finally, and had plenty of time to rest. Oracle made sure of that. Now he got the easy part: sleeping it off until, like always, he grew restless and became an amateur escape artist. Luckily, Oracle had taken the liberty of preparing a sedative for that. She giggled to herself, remembering the last time he was on bed rest and tried to escape. He escaped alright, if only in exchange for the cold floor and another three hour nap.
She smirked, tilting her head to the side as she peered through the glass of the medical monitor at Baroth, flat on his back, sound unconscious.
She thought back to the stories she found, by her own research, adventures in a primitive age. Adventures including Baroth and his "bull-headed" tactics and battle wounds. How he survived so many millennia without the proper equipment or technology perplexed Oracle, piqued her interest. She still hadn't found a valid, reliable result. Maybe he'd spill eventually, if she pushed enough.
But maybe it didn't matter either. He was here and together they'd made decent credits and had decent adventures of their own.
He'd freed her from an end she wasn't ready to face. Though, he himself would never know the truth.
Stubborn bastard, i'll give you that..
But something pried her attention. There. Upper left corner of the screen, first tab. His brain activity? No that couldn't be right. She extended a finger and maximized the tab, reading the flashing vitals and multicolored shroud encompassing the cerebrum. She checked, double checked. Dreaming? It wasn't too uncommon, but it had caught her by surprise.
She pushed the monitor aside, hung by a single mechanical arm bolted into the wall, and rolled over to Baroth's side, placing a hand on his.
A moment of silence passed before she said it.
"You know, I wish I could dream sometimes too.. Lucky bastard.." She mumbled in finish, rolling back to her place and pulling the monitor back down.
..........
A few hours later the Hustler flickered out of hyperspace, lagging behind the others, and redirected for Theren's surface. Once within the appropriate distance, the vessel was hailed by an Imperial ATC officer and assigned a hangar to land in. Fifteen minutes later, Baroth's boots clanked on the metallic floor as he made haste to catch the others, helmet stuffed under his armpit, gun clamped to his back magnetically.
Simus and Jessica in tow as well, having sobered up from jet-lag and digested alcohol, and better for it. Baroth had indulged in a guiltless glass of Argonian Whiskey, along with last-minute splash of cold water to the face. He'd decided to do away with the Caffeine X.
As far as he was concerned, he had all the sleep he'd need for a while.
Plus, he was already dying, and he didn't need to die any faster.
He stopped short of the group, all but Skylar and Aden, in time to catch Lyssa's suggestion of finding an inconspicuous base of operations.
He gave a greeting nod, then one towards Lyssa.
"Last I remember, the Empire didn't give two pl*pss about the underworld. We could start there. I know a few people, might be able to store us discreetly. Assuming they all haven't been gutted. If I'm right, then the Empire also keeps the surface a polar opposite: shiny and clean, to a noticeable degree." He looked between Corvis, Lyssa, and Dah'Sharra. "Unfortunately, your barbeque with those Imperial Intelligence agents won't lend us much of a lease here above-ground. Empire's almost as paranoid as the Dominion, so I'm sure they've got eyes all over the place."
He shrugged. "No offense, of course. pl*ps's gotta happen sooner or later, and it happens to us all."
(If any of this seems off or if I legitimately made a mistake, don't hesitate to tell me and i'll fix it right away. The hyperspace situation had me a little confused, so if I got anything wrong, just give me a holler. Not literally.. I'm frightened by loud sudden noises.. AGH! Damn remote..)