Round the edge of the market.
You wander around the edge of the market, shoving your way through the crowds, and carefully threading your way over catwalks and across metal ledges about a half a person wide. Merchants thrust handfuls of raw meat and fresh sliced produce, both of unknown origin, out at you as you pass, groups of spacesuited patrons argue through tinny speakers, squawking and pointing at reams of cloth, electronic bits, or rough hewn tools.
You pass by a stage of some kind, a great terrace hanging off one of the walls with a dozen bridges and catwalks connecting to it. On the terrace is a raised area of sorts where a man in a particularly garish outfit gestures at other people who are wearing very little if anything at all. The man lifts their arms, gestures at their bodies, spins them around and otherwise shows them off while members of the audience around him shout and raise hands periodically. Hm.
You make it about halfway around the market's circumference and find another door out of the area. You suppose you could leave or keep exploring the market.
(I just had the worst, most horrible idea that hinges on repairs being free. Are they? If so, d'you think I could make some money by allowing people to practice their headshot skills by using Jim as target practice?)
It's free, but if you keep getting injured over and over in quick succession they'll probably get annoyed with you and stop offering the service for free.
"Is there any way to earn Tokens whilst on board the ship, sir? I've looked through the records and even before my first mission, inmates who dawdled and idled through their mission received five whole tokens at the expense of those alongside them.
"Is there any way I can earn while on the ship and perhaps improve my own skills and hone my knowledge - the latter especially for the coming missions?"
Inquire!
"You could mug someone. That would be combat practice and result in getting you tokens" the armory master says with a disinterested shrug.
Approach Herr Doktor.
"Excuse me, Mr. Doctor? I was wondering, why do you work for the HRMC? After all, you could have left after one of your tours, and been free to do whatever you want."
"UWM is boring. Restrictive. Hard to get subjects. Most things I do here are illegal out there. No fun."
He seems to think for a second.
"Also, I was supposed to have been executed."
Faith winced. 'Make it interesting.' Noooooooonononono. Well, maybe a little, but only with some reassurances.
"Uh, I see.
...
Saaaaaaaay, would it be possible to make a living factory of what is more or less medifoam? I know the exact formula's proprietary, but some kind of snail or something that secretes medically safe hardening goo couldn't be too hard, could it?"
Medifoam goo.
The doctor scratches his head for a moment as some sort of gas leaks out of his respirator with a hiss.
"Hmm. Modifying for the sake of healing rather than murder? What an odd thought. Interesting."
Saaaaaaaay, would it be possible to make a living factory of what is more or less medifoam? I know the exact formula's proprietary, but some kind of snail or something that secretes medically safe hardening goo couldn't be too hard, could it?"
((And then Faith started to produce medifoam through...unusual means.))
"You know...With the" He whistles, and bumps his fists together. "Because I don't think I've ever seen her so much as hug a guy. Well, not since whats his name, but that didn't really count."
"Then it isn't true. What gave you people that idea?" he answered quite simply. He didn't have much of an idea on why they had that idea...Maybe due to the fact she gave him the G-Shells and...hmm.
As far as he knew, she was just being nice to someone who wasn't an ass to her.
Ask.
The man shrugs
"Just something I heard through the grapevine. Then again, I heard it from some guy in research and they're all lonely bastards so their minds are always in the gutter."
"Can I pet him?"
"You can."
The sermon went quite well. Brother Lars only needed to spread the word further! He headed down to the Armory, asked for a marker, then went to a random spot in the hallway and wrote "Trust in the great Saint Milno!" on the wall.
Vandalize.
You scribble "ST.MILNO" on one of the hallway walls. You throw a few gangsigns too, just for good measure.
Simus pops up and catches Lars as he's leaving, still smoking.
Listen, buddy, I'll be the last person to complain of you holding yourself in whatever crazy dogma you've concocted, but I'd appreciate if you didn't keep going on about it.
She puffs a bit of bluesmoke smoke in his face as she orates to him.
And if you do keep going on, your precious Saint Milno would likely be the last to stop me from shutting you up for a while. And Steve would be, if possible, even more apathetic.
She heads back to her bunk and starts remembering her specialist freelance team of engineers and scientists.
(I wonder how long until the VR withdrawl causes violent outbursts.)
You lay in your bunk and reminisce about your lab and team of science men with almost fetishistic glee.
Make "Oonch, oonch" sounds and do a robot dance.
You make robotic noises and move robotically. Oddly, you're really good at this dance. Wonder why that is.
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Topic: Einsteinian Roulette On ship Thread: Maurice's One Night Stand (Read 5932104 times)