#skipfink

"Hey! It's not my fault I--" Antares tried to retort from his bed in the sickbay right across Nero's but was cut off by a particularly awful coughing-and-hacking fit. He looks up to find some unidentified fucking thing tear its way out of the technician adjutant.

"Oh fuck...holy shit.."

Antares' first thought was 'oh god that could happen to me soon' . His second thought and reaction was to hoist himself out of bed, scramble over to Nero's side and start yelling.

"CAN SOMEONE GET IN HERE?" He coughed in between. "NERO'S FUCKING DYING."

"I am." Palmer's patience is thin, but this isn't only because of Direlash. The headache that's needled at him for the last week and a half isn't going away no matter what he does, and if he goes in to get meds that put him under, he's no good to anybody in the interim, not to mention vulnerable. Few things he hates more than that, especially now. He's also gritting his teeth because that statement IS correct- he hasn't been ANYONE'S go-to for ANYTHING in quite some time, now.

That stings after a lifetime of dedicated service.

They need in. They need in without tripping alarms. Palmer doesn't have a Lifeline agent backing him up, only a string of remnant code and commands- the very set he's been juggling since 2018. He's gotten very good at making the best of it...

[roll: 2- psionic blast]

Well, that's not subtle...but if he's precise about it...

"My ANTIQUE MICROWAVE!" Nero had paid good credits for that 20th century artifact. He was going to turn it into a hobby project or something for use during his spare time. And now this complete stranger had come along to construct... who-knows-what!

"What kind of zapcrap you trying to pull?! Gimme back my stuff, you scantily clad iconoclast!"

"It wouldn't be of any use for you in its current state."

The woman ignores his demand as she continues to fiddle with the newly- created device. She aims what appears to be akin to a classic model of smartphone from the 21st century at it, double checking a few things on the screen before she nods a few times.

"I won't be able to program it with this model of tomephone anyways, and without a sufficient aether source—" She's completely engrossed in her little tech project, tapping away on the touch screen before raising her head to look around the place.

"You wouldn't happen to have an analogue monitor among those relics of yours, would you? I can solder a connection but without an analogue signal it won't go very far."

"Uuuugh...gimme a moment." Words are slurred as she was evidently asleep before being summoned. That was easily one of the worst thing about being the queen of the monster realm. If a mortal knew how, they could summon her whenever! Even if she was packed comfy in her bed!

"Alright, what is that you wa--" The queenly figure pauses as she finally looks around. Oh. All of these folk were knocked out. Purple eyes naturally fell upon the one still standing. Given the attire probably wasn't associated with the ones who actually summoned her back into the mortal realm. A tired sigh parts from her black lips.

Elva doesn't say anything for a moment as she takes in the bio ship, mentally already starting to come up with a plan to take it down if she had to. Not that she really desired to, but it never hurt to have a back up plan if you really really needed it when. Not everyone was exactly friendly with her planet, not to mention everyone who just hated her father.

"How long does it take for them to get that big?" She can't help but be fascinated. A small part of her can't help but wonder the ethics of it. Not that she'd say.

🫙🌿— "You know Borke is going to be offended if I ask someone else to repair my shuttle," Sakyr explains to his 'bot' ADAM with a hint of exasperation. He's not angry, just tired after a long day of trying to sell his Potions to the locals. And now, one of his shuttle's engines broke down, making it impossible to fly back to the space station. The engine panel is open and thick smoke emerges from within it.

[ Borke is busy and too far away to make it here in a moderate time. I still suggest looking for a technician around here. ]

Of course it would suggest that. ADAM and Borke never saw eye to eye. It is bewildering that his ship bot and his best friend constantly argue, anyway. Why is that even a thing?

Sakyr groans softly and his forehead plonks against the shuttle's hull. "But I know no one around here and I'm tired. I— look, I'm just going to call Borke, get into the Shuttle and wait for him to get here."

[ While our conversation, I discovered that members of INTERPLAN were stationed close-by. I sent an emergency call and asked for their technician to come here and look at your shuttle. He should arrive here any minute. ]

Sakyr likes ADAM, but sometimes it can be a little much. Just like, right now.

He wouldn't.

He...He shouldn't!

She could see the blow coming a metaphorical mile away. Clumsy, and telegraphed as if they were merely performers on a stage. But with unmistakable intent.

Despite everything she'd told him, despite how she'd warned him, here Nero was. Attempting that blasted...what had he called it? A 'Kirk Punch'? A ridiculous overhead two fisted axe hammer straight out of the arsenal of an amateur wrestler.

She reacted on instinct, or possibly out of outrage. Near-instantaneously ducking beneath his reach and unleashing a devastating right cross to Nero's body.

She looked down, surveying the damage. She'd reacted so fast she hadn't even had time to think enough to pull the punch.

"That...should suffice, for today."

She wasn't sure exactly why Nero had wanted to learn her combat techniques, given the often mundane nature of the ship's engagements, but it was far from her to question.