Difference between revisions of "1850/Hangar Meeting"

Latest revision as of 06:06, 22 March 2015

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Welcome to the Citadel, where physics and reality both defy expectations on a regular basis. All manner of vehicles, ships, and personal conveyances can be found in this place; as a major Confederate ally, there is a whole wing of this place dedicated solely to the equipment and vehicles used by the Galactic Empire, in opposition to the Rebel Alliance.

There's a standard array of things in here that are commonplace Imperial designs – from capital Star Destroyers to the humble TIE fighters in their racks. Everything in between is found here, too, from troop transports to cargo transports to single-pilot speeders.

But one of these is wholly unique, even in the midst of the Imperial Navy's designs.

Isolated behind a few racks of TIE fighters and down at the end of its own hangar bay, the Rogue Shadow is a sleek, predatory ship modified from a modest Imperial transport. It looks fairly unassuming, by appearances alone; what makes it special is everything under the proverbial hood. The ship is used often for Confederate operations; mainly in delivering and extracting Confederate allies between operations, and the occasional rescue extraction.

Its pilot and chief engineer, Juno Eclipse, is just as unique – although most of her records are sealed.

One can find her here in the hangar today, sitting on a workbench set up next to the ship; there's a datapad in her lap and a thermos of something hot beside her, crisp Imperial uniform a bit less crips with her jacket tossed over the table and cap settled on top of it. Her hair is a pale white-gold shade of blonde, normally tied up in a severe French twist, though some of it falls out to frame her face; her skin isn't too pale, and her eyes are the blue of a clear summer sky. She seems to be going over some sort of schematic, using a sort of stylus-like tool to make annotations or changes, absorbed enough in her work that someone could probably approach without her notice.

Then again, it pays to be thorough. She might well be paying attention after all – if anything, she looks like she's waiting for something, with an air of expectation about her.

Taro (399) has posed:
"I begin to wonder, Captain Eclipse, if you have ever set foot further in the Citadel than this."

Taro was not trying to sneak up on the woman, and if she did not notice him until he's standing on the other side of her workbench, it is not due to any effort on his part. His words were spoken in dry humor, close but not quite deadpan.

The blue twinkling cyber-elf perched on his shoulder is more straightforward and less formal. 'Hiii~'

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
Black shoes of polished patent leather clip against the cement floor of the hangar. The overhead lights are reflected by a pair of angular black sunglasses. The owner of these accoutrements, a program named Smith, wanders aimlessly through the gigantic room. He lingers at each craft for a few moments, staring at each one as if taking inventory. In this way does he eventually come across Juno. He might be reflected in the craft's exterior as he approaches, the consummate Man In Black, a figure of average height, average build, with a face hidden behind mirror shades and seemingly fit for unimpressed frowns, scowls, and menacing smiles alike. He doesn't know this human, but he does know

"Mr. Daisho..."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Hello, Mister Daisho." Juno doesn't even look away from the datapad as she reaches for the thermos, taking an idle sip of whatever-it-is. It's probably safe to guess that it's some combination of bitter, caffeinated, and strong. "No, although I keep meaning to make the time to. I'm afraid the Inquisition keeps me fairly busy, and the Confederacy takes up what time I've got left."

After a few seconds of delay, she sets the datapad aside, looking over to her visitor. Visitors? She raises a brow at the unexpected arrival of somebody else, somebody who looks like he'd be right at home in the Inquisition itself. Maybe he's a Sith?

But if he is, he's not the Sith she's waiting for.

Somehow managing to hop down from the workbench without scattering any tools, she folds her arms for a moment, absently rubbing one bare arm – she's wearing a sleeveless halter top in grey under the discarded jacket; the relative cool of the hangars doesn't seem to bother her.

"I'm sorry to say I don't know you, though." Juno cants her head faintly toward Agent Smith, offering a razor-sharp salute in spite of her less than regulation uniform. "You're not with the Inquisition, are you?"

Something about that guy is incredibly creepy, she decides. He must be Sith.

Taro (399) has posed:
Taro, on the other hand, does not seem particularly unsettled by the living program joining them. "Mister Smith," he both greets and acknowledges with a deep nod. "You've been acclimating, I hope?"

His cyber-elf is a bit less enthusiastic in her greeting to him, though. A muted warbled 'Hi' is all he receives.

To Juno, "I suppose I'm hardly one to talk. Normally my visits are confined to here, to Medical, and the chapel."

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
"The Inquisition..." Smith smiles at that–it sounds like it could be a lot of fun. "No, I'm afraid not. My name, as my associate Mr. Daisho has stated, is Smith." He straightens his tie. "I might have been called an inquisitor once, but I've changed career paths." He smirks, offering Juno a polite nod, then turns to respond to Daisho.

There's a slight grimace as he prepares to speak. "I've managed to introduce myself to most of our co-workers by way of the radio channel..." He smiles at that, and pauses for a moment before canting his head towards the android. "I'm sure it goes without saying that, if you need my help with any... personal projects of yours, you need only ask. I do owe you a favor for your assistance."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"I'm afraid you've still got me beat in terms of scenery, Mister Daisho." Despite the brief grin Juno flashes, she's still the picture of respect to fellow Confederate ally; deferential, though not necessarily submissive. "On the other hand, there's something to be said for piloting one of the Inquisition's own. I can't say I'd have visited half of the places I've been, otherwise. Then again... I'm not sure they're necessarily places I would have gone of my own volition, either."

Nobody wants to visit Raxus Prime, garbage heap of the galaxy. Or Felucia. Felucia is terrible and awful and nobody should ever have to go there. She still has nightmares about cleaning goop and gunk off the Rogue Shadow's hull and out of her sensitive intakes. Never mind the fact that everything on that planet either wants to eat each other, or the one doing the visiting.

She tilts her head at Smith, instead, arching her brows. So, not a Sith, but somebody who belonged to an organisation not unlike the Inquisition? Curious. She folds her arms, waiting politely for Smith to get done with his commentary to Taro.

And then snaps off a razor-sharp salute.

"Special Captain Juno Eclipse of the Galactic Empire; pilot, engineer, mechanic, and Confederate ally. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance, Mister Smith." She offers a faint half-smile, hiding her own discomfort. Seriously, this guy's kind of creepy. His smile is even creepier. "If you ever need transportation, intelligence, slicing–" The translation effect may provide this to Smith as 'hacking,' "–and the odd ground operation, or mechanical work on starships or other machinery, I'm glad to offer my services, provided there are no conflicts with my obligations to the Inquisition at the time."

Taro (399) has posed:
Co-workers. That's one way of seeing it...and as valid a descriptor as any.

"Rest assured that the next time I have a project that would make best use of your talents, I will ask you." As usual, Taro's facial expressions are lacking, but his tone is pleasant enough. "Though at present my attention has been on projects of design and construction rather than more adventurous forays."

He casts a glance back at Juno, or more properly at her datapand and the other items clustered on the workbench. "Are you performing maintenance again, or is this another project?"

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
"Pleased to meet you, Captain." Smith nods his head ever so slightly. "I look forward to working with you in the future. In the interest of good manners, I'd like to extend the same offer, however different my talents may be." He gives Taro a sidelong glance at that, then turns his attention to the Captain's ship, peering at its construction and trying to discern its complexities.

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
The pilot glances back over her shoulder, blue eyes lingering momentarily on the datapad and assortment of tools on the workbench. The tools in particular stand out against its sterile, whitish durasteel; hydrospanners, mostly, though a few smaller odds and ends suggest circuitry. Small machinery, for the most part.

"A little of both, actually. I've been waiting for a systems check to finish cycling on the Rogue Shadow's primary computer cores. While I do that, I've been sifting through TIE fighter schematics." She glances back to Taro, something in her mien suddenly wary. "I suppose you saw the report I filed; someone in the Imperial hierarchy ordered a squadron of TIE fighters to assault Mining Station Zephyr."

"It went... disastrously," she says, diplomatically; though her expression doesn't change much, there's something cold and hard in her blue eyes. "Mechanical breakdown, disastrous systems failures... if they weren't so shoddily designed, there would be six TIE pilots still alive today."

Like a switch flipping, her mien seems to revert to mildness once more. "I'm simply attempting to make some improvements, and I'll present these to the appropriate Imperial Naval authorities when I feel they're complete enough. Of course, most of the reasoning behind the extant designs is simple cost-efficiency. I imagine it costs more to train a pilot than it does to actually knock out a machine itself, from parts-milling to systems programming."

Her eyes flick back to Smith, and she offers a half-smile that manages to somehow convey wariness. "Of course, Mister Smith. You can call me Special Captain, or Captain Eclipse, or you can call me Juno. Whichever you prefer. PROXY tends to call me Captain Eclipse." She pauses for a brief instant. "Ah, that's Inquisitor Starkiller's personal assistant and droid. He's the particular Inquisitor I'm assigned to. I'm sure you'll have the opportunity to meet him sooner or later."

They'll either get along famously or try to kill each other, she decides. One's about as dour and antisocial as the next, with the exception that Starkiller gets along with her.

Absently tugging at the hem of her halter top, she exhales through her teeth. "Certainly, Mister Smith. Actually, given the way of recent Confederate operations, my involvement also infers a certain level of authority within Imperial Naval standards. That is to say, if you require additional support, I can likely authorise certain Naval resources."

Taro (399) has posed:
The wariness is noted and accepted. Given his habit of meticulously reviewing any schematics in reach and the most useful bits finding their ways into his own designs later, wariness is likely recommended.

"With apologies to your Imperial engineers, the design seems to leave much to be desired." And said engineers should be shot for such terrible design flaws. He doesn't say as much, of course - a notably harsh edge in his otherwise neutral tone is the closest we will get to conveying his opinion.

Attention returns to Smith. "How have you found the greater Multiversal Network? Or have you been spending most of your time in..." he makes a small up and down gesture at the man, "in this form?"

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
"I'll keep that in mind, Captain Eclipse." He nods politely, his features alighting with interest and... something else upon learning of this Starkiller and his droid assistant. The droid is of course of more interest to him, if only for the greater similarity.

"If I could, I'd spend all of my time decompiled. Unfortunately, the majority of our colleagues are organic, or at the very least, confined to the material plane." He pauses, then offers a slight grimace as he prepares to speak again. "Of course, this form isn't without its advantages."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"With apologies to my Imperial engineers and superiors, the designs are rubbish." Folding her arms, Juno glances back at the datapad again, something flickering past those blue eyes; frustration, perhaps. "I cut my teeth flying TIE fighters, and I got lucky. Piloting a TIE fighter doesn't exactly have a long shelf life, if you know what I mean."

Sighing, she leans back against the table, folding her arms and regarding Agent Smith as Taro converses with him. She studies him with the same interest he shows the ship, as though trying to divine what sort of being he might be. That unsettling aura of his suggests something supernatural, yet at the same time, he seems pretty comfortable among the oil and grease of the hangar.

Her eyes hood, thoughtfully. 'Decompiled.' Some kind of droid, then? Artificial intelligence? Interesting. There's no mistaking the way he seems to perk up a bit at the mention of PROXY, either. Or the way he studies the ship.

"The Rogue Shadow," Juno introduces, waving a hand towards the sleek stealth transport. "Modified Imperial transport, equipped with the most sophisticated cloaking device, sublight engines, and hyperdrive the Imperial Navy can bring to bear. Which is considerable, if I'm being entirely honest. I can't imagine the cost that went into her construction."

She smiles, faintly; almost a smirk, but not quite. "I can't say she quite adheres to the original schematics, though, at least not any more. It's my job to keep her running and running smoothly for Inquisitor Starkiller. She belongs to him, after all; I'm simply his pilot, and his mechanic." Again that half-smile. "She is an impressive piece of hardware, though, and a joy to fly."

Taro (399) has posed:
A nod to Smith. "I see...this is true. I've personally found directly interacting with the physical world to be enjoyable. There are certain intangible benefits, even if it is at times less efficient."

His gaze wanders away, settling on one of the TIE fighters berthed nearby. "I must wonder then why the design has not been replaced with one of better quality and efficiency," he says to Juno. "Even if I make the assumption that the cost per unit is quite low, there reaches a point where low costs reap little benefit."

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
Smith... ponders that very same question. He turns from observing the ship. "If the Empire can afford something as sophisticated as the Rogue Shadow, perhaps the design choices for these fighters are... intentional. A deliberate lack of safety features to play on your species' well-developed survival instincts." He smiles. "You might say it thins out the prospects a bit, so that only the most skilled pilots have the chance to fly more sophisticated craft."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
Half a glance is flicked between Taro and Agent Smith, and Juno very carefully does not interrupt their conversation. She's not an artificial intelligence, she's not a droid, and she has no real frame of reference for whatever it is they're talking about. She also tends to have a healthy sense of self-preservation, which involves not poking too much at her allies with sticks. While undeniably Elite, she tends to view herself a few rungs below the general level of most Confederate Elites.

In other words, don't go poking a sleeping rancor with sticks, because it'll eat the stick, and then it'll eat you.

Also they smell bad, but that's entirely beside the point.

"They're extremely intentional," she answers, once conversation is back into safe territory; that is to say, Imperial matters. Juno folds her arms, glancing back to the ship that's been her mechanical charge for several years now. She considers it with a certain fondness – aside from being her charge, it's also the closest thing to a home she has. The care and detail she shows in maintaining it belies a certain fondness for it. "TIE fighters are extremely cheap to produce on a per-unit basis. I'd wager it costs more to train a pilot."

"TIE fighter pilot training programs last for years, and many of the pilots wash out before they ever complete their training." She smiles a lopsided, almost sarcastic smile. "I trained as a TIE pilot, and I flew over a hundred combat missions before I was assigned to Inquisitor Starkiller. It's a tough job, and the training is just as tough. Most of the cadets wash out and never make it in. Maybe ten percent of them might see the inside of a TIE cockpit," she muses, glancing back to the racks of nearby TIE fighters.

After a moment her attention turns back to Smith. "Actually, it's nothing so sinister. It's just cheaper to build them without landing gear, sophisticated shielding, hyperdrives, or life support systems." She ticks off each feature on a finger. "TIE tactics include swarming the target region or objective by sheer numbers. They're not individually a threat, though. Not unless they're in the hands of one hell of a pilot. Or someone with Force-sensitivity, anyway."

"Maybe, though. I don't pretend to know what goes on in the minds of Imperial authorities. Better for me to keep my head down and follow my orders." She smiles, and her expression seems just a little... sad? "The less I'm noticed, the better it tends to be, honestly. One generally doesn't want to be noticed by Lord Vader or his immediate subordinates."

Taro (399) has posed:
"Mm." There are thoughts forming in that neuralnet of his, but he chooses to not voice them. He doesn't know enough about Juno's universe to wager any guesses as to why alternatives haven't been put into place. Still, it seems to be a terrible waste of training, therefore an inefficient means to reach the current effect.

Then, Taro gives a small nod to the both of them. "As much as I would like to stay in the conversation, I'm expected to lead chapel devotions tonight. If you'll excuse me...?"

After the usual departing a conversation rituals are observed, the android priest turns and makes his way to one of the doorways leading further into the Citadel.

Agent Smith (699) has posed:
"They do look agile enough to be of use for swarming tactics, although my knowledge of space combat is admittedly limited. Barring an outlying incident, we never had much reason to venture into space." He does find the use of the word sinister amusing–he'd just consider it pragmatic. "I'm very familiar with swarming tactics, however. It's a preferred method of mine."

Juno Eclipse (428) has posed:
"Of course, Mister Taro." Juno bobs her head politely to the techpriest, attention sliding back to the ship when he takes his leave. No doubt their paths will cross again, somewhere within Confederate service. "Take care of yourself."

Once he's gone, she turns her attention back to Smith. "They're more agile than they look. Extremely agile, in fact, and that's one of the reasons why the shields are substandard. They're expected to outmanoeuvre the opposition. And, in the hands of a good pilot, they generally do, but it's at the cost of pilot survivability. They're about as fragile as they look, too, and they don't hold up well under fire at all."

"Hmm. You command some kind of unit, Mister Smith? Forgive me; I haven't had much time to sift through the Confederate databases, lately." She gestures to indicate the sleek, silent Rogue Shadow. "I've had my hands full with the ship. Inquisitor Starkiller had been away for several months thanks to a deep-cover mission, and with his return to active service within the greater Confederate whole, I've had to overhaul and update the Rogue Shadow's systems. All of them." She half-smiles, thinly. "Might I add that it's a terribly complex ship, not for the faint of heart?"

She pushes off from the table, offering a polite nod to Smith as well. "Speaking of which, I should be checking on those diagnostics, soon. We'll have to chat again, Mister Smith; I'd be interested to find out what exactly it is that you do. I like to know at least the basics about the people I'm expected to work with, but in the meantime, my obligations to Inquisitor Starkiller are more pressing." She touches two fingers to her forehead in casual salute. "If you'll excuse me."

With that, provided he doesn't attempt to stop her, she'll gather up her datapad and slip back up the ship's entry ramp, its hydraulic ramp easing closed behind her.