Experimental Crew

[gordonmiller]

Gordon sat in the taxi as it drove down the docks. Gordon didn't like this part of Persephone. The docks had a distinct odor of despair surrounding it and to make things worse, most of the people in it actually screamed 'Independent'. Even Raxo, his trusty canine companion noticed as he growled toward people that got too close to the cab, some of them begging, others asking whether or not Gordon was someone who was looking to hire. It made him sick, and if he could he'd use his HOB rod to get rid of the lot of them. Gordon looked behind him, where his suitcases and his chest were to make sure no one tried to steal anything. The silver suitcase contained his weapons, a silenced sniper rifle, silenced pistol and a silenced submachinegun. The black suitcase contained chemicals such as sodium pentathol and the necessary chems to make tranquillizer darts. And then the big chest contained various types of clothing, such as a woodland camosuit, an arctic camosuit, a black ops suit, a ballistic and a tactical vest, and of course, Gordon's preferred clothing: suits of various colors and ties.

Gordon thought about the mission that layed before him. Assist Captain Borden during this covert op to bring smugglers and other criminals to justice, and report back to the Admiralty on every move the Horizon made. This mission was very important for the Alliance, if it was a success, many more of the same kind would be send out. If it was a failure however, it would be yet another futile attempt for the Alliance to restore order after the so-called Uprising.

Gordon had read Captain Borden's service record, and he found it to be quite impressive. He wasn't one to make friends, but Gordon had a feeling he and Captain Borden would get along quite well. It was a man after his own heart after all. Completely loyal to the Alliance and willing to die for it as well.

Then Raxo barked as if he knew they had arrived and Gordon was confronted with the first disappointment for this mission, namely the ship Horizon itself. It was so rusty it actually looked orange and Gordon was inclined to move his sunglasses to get a better look. Once again, Raxo barked at the ship as if he tried to tell Gordon something.

"I know boy." Gordon said as he patted Raxo on the head. "I need a tetanus shot just by looking at it."

The taxi stopped and Gordon grabbed Raxo's leash and got out of the cab. He took another look at the ship and hoped she was spaceworthy. Otherwise, this could become the shortest covert op ever recorded in the history of the Alliance.

The cabbie behind him was busy unloading his suitcases, but due to its heaviness, he dropped the big chest. Gordon looked behind him and saw that the incompetent cab driver had dropped his expensive chest.

"You imbecile!" Gordon said. "You can forget about payment!"

The cabbie, being somewhat of a bulkier man, decided not to take that and walked up to Gordon, hoping to intimidate him into paying after all.

"Whaddidyou say buddy?" The cabbie asked. "You wanna repeat that to my face?"

Gordon noticed that this man obviously wasn't trained in manners, and hoped that the cabbie would do something foolish so he could teach him some.

"As a matter of fact, I do." Gordon replied. "I called you an imbecile, which you obviously are. And I said I'm not going to pay you for your troubles. Let that be a lesson for you for the future."

The cabbie got more angry at Gordon's taunt, and got ready to hit Gordon. But just as he made a fist, Raxo started growling at the man.

"I urge you to think carefully on what you are about to do next." Gordon said. "I'm afraid it could be a lifechanging choice for you."

The cabbie looked at Gordon, and then at Raxo, who was about ready to jump on the man and bite through his throat. After all, Gordon had trained his dog to attack anyone who attacked him.

Being somewhat intimidated by Gordon and his dog, the cabbie got back in his cab and drove off. Gordon put his suitcases on the big chest, which had wheels and a handle on it, and pulled it to the entrance of the Horizon with one hand, while holding Raxo's leash with the other.

Gordon immediately recognized Captain Borden from his file and started contemplating on how he was going to introduce himself to him. After all, Gordon's file was classified and the very least Borden knew was that Gordon was coming.

"Captain Borden?" Gordon asked, knowing he could go from there.

[tomdalton]

Tom strode down the bustling streets of the docks, giving a harsh, crazy stare to anyone who dared to look at him.
He was looking for The Horizon, the ship he had been ordered to report to by his superiors.
Even though during the war, Tom was considered a highly decorated soldier, He was not told much about this mission.

'Report to Captain Borden of the ship The Horizon, and do anything he tells you.' where his exact orders. Very vague compared to the previous, but Tom would never ask questions about his mission. He would just do it, no questions asked.

"Oi!, you." he called out to an old woman sat in her wicker chair, surrounded by her presumably grandchildren.
"Know where The Horizon is?" He asked her with his rather rude way of speaking.
He didn't think much of anybody who wasn't in the service of the alliance, or those who don't seem like they support them.
And this old lady didn't at all seem like she did.
Independent Sympathisers tend to all look the same to him. Very common.

The old lady spoke as she turned about to look upon the new inquisitor, "You won;t get much out of me with an attitude litke that young m-.", She froze as she saw the stare. The stare that most thought would result in a brutal and untimely death.
She pointed down the lengths of docked ships, to one that seemed to be a bit of a rust bucket.

He began walking toward the ship, which indeed was The Horizon, without so much as a thank you to the old lady, who herself was thankful that Tom had left her be with her windpipe still intact.

As he approached the ship, a taxi pulled up in front of the loading bay, and a man and his dog got out.
This man was defiantly not Independent. Not by a long shot.
The man began shouting at the taxi driver, who had dropped one of the trunks.
The taxi driver didn't seem impressed by this, and he lumbered over to his ex-passenger.
Tom couldn't make out what was said, but he did notice the dog started to growl.
The look on the drivers face, made Tom wonder who he was scared of more, The man, or the dog.

After the confrontation, the man and his dog walked into the entrance of The Horizon.
"Is that Captain Borden?" Tom said to himself under his breath, as he followed him in.
Tom presumption turned out to be wrong, as the man inside was approached by the presumed captain, and was referred to as Captain Borden himself.

Tom stopped, just out of ear shot, so he could not listen to what they had to say, and waited.
He had gotten into trouble before for accidentally hearing things he was not allowed to hear.
So he stood there, in plain sight, his legs spread a bit and his hands grasped together behind his back.

[amaia]

Amaia grabbed her personal belongings and started to head for the crew quarters, but stopped with the influx of people. This, she feared, was the most dangerous part of their initial mission - a civilian ship, under the guise of Alliance radar, with several heavily armed and well trained people onboard.

It looked just as much like a criminal run than anything - moreso than an Alliance boat, that much was certain.

She set her stuff aside and then found a quiet, shadowy vantage from which to watch the entrance of the ship. If things were going to go down, she could see it happening now, and until they were closed up and ready to leave, she thought it best to not leave the entrance unattended.

[robertborden]

"Doctor, your bunk is upstairs next to the infirmary. Speaking of which, I need a full inventory before we arrive at St. Albans so we can pick up any needed supplies, okay?" Cpt. Borden decided to be nice to this crew member for now, unless he observed that he needed to behave otherwise.

He looked out as he heard the cab pull up. This must be Gordon Miller, he was the one mystery on board the ship. He had been assigned to oversee the mission and Borden understood this. This was an expensive trial and it needed to be handled carefully.
Borden was given only limited access to miller's file. He knew only his name, the fact that that he was a blueglove and why he was here.

"Captain Borden?" asked the man with the dog.

"Yes, I am Captain Borden, which you would have known...had you arrived on time. I hope that your dog won't be any extra trouble." He then said in a slightly lower voice, "I'm not sure exactly how you bluegloves work but, since your here to check on my efficiency you had better be efficient yourself," He needed it to seem as if he had more information than he had. In his normal tone of voice, he said, "Now, welcome to my ship I know you're good with a weapon, and annoying cab drivers, let's see how good you are getting all your bags packed in a timely fashion"

[gordonmiller]

Gordon wasn't one to be lectured on normal occasions, but captain Borden did have a point, he was tardy, although it wasn't his fault entirely.

Yet Gordon never sought excuses. He was more a man to take responsibility for his actions, whether or not it was his fault. He could also appreciate Borden's punctuality, it was that what made a good leader after all.

"Yes captain, I apologize for being late. And I assure you my canine companion won't be any trouble at all captain." Gordon answered. "Quite the contrary, during our travels you'll find that he is more of an asset than anything else."

Captain Borden also mentioned Gordon's luggage at some point, wondering whether or not he would be able to put them where they belong on time.

"And don't worry about my luggage captain." Gordon said. "I will find my way as soon as you appoint one of the bunks as my own."

Gordon then reached for his inner pocket, and grabbed an envelope from it.

"A small gift from the Admiralty captain." Gordon said as he offered captain Borden the envelope. "It is directed at the commanding officer of the cruiser Esteem. It states that he is to gather a small detail of officers and enlisted who will know our real identities to assist us on this covert operation. And it also states that he is to provide us with whatever resources we need."

Gordon handed the envelope to captain Borden, and then grabbed the handle of the big chest again, while holding Raxo's leash with the other.

"If that will be all captain, I'd like to see my quarters."

[robertborden]

[ooc: Basic layout info: Two passenger cabins on the bottom floor, stair to the left and right with a small catwalk running on either side and across the front and the two shuttles. Second floor has the crew quarters, engine room (small hallway leads away from the rest of the crew quarters) and the infirmary. One room connects directly to the infirmary trough a secondary door as does a room connected to the engine room. Third has the mess/dining area, and the cockpit.

That's good covert strategy, have us dock with an Alliance cruiser Borden though sarcastically. Sometime the Alliance would give strange orders and he was assured that this wouldn't happen for the Horizon but apparently things changed. He would have to wait to stop with the Esteem until after St Alban's.

I assume your dog can't climb a ladder very effectively so I'm going to assign you one of the passenger cabins back there," the Captain gestured toward a small hallway away from the entrance. Your's is the one on the left, I have other crew arriving so I hope you won't mind if I don't show you to your room." Borden actually thought Miller would make a good crew member and seemed to think that his personality shouldn't be bad either. The man seemed to take responsibility and knew the chain of command.

He walked away from the former blueglove after giving a polite nod and walked over toward Denton. The man was smart to stay out of the previous conversation and it was smart for Sang to watch the entrance for trouble. Borden was pretty observant. He nodded to Denton to let him know he could come over and talk.

[matticus]

"Fang pi." spat the unkempt, oafish bartender of the port border dive. His arms were crossed and his chubby face was crumpled in disbelief and a hint of repulsion. He'd been listening to the bald man in the scruffy coat tell his story over a barely passable pint.

"Wouldn't believe me either mate, I mean, couldn't adam and eve it myself. One drug addled transvestite takes on four alliance feds and gets away on a bloody electric scooter." Oliver chuckled, raising his nearly empty glass up and finished off the mug. He tapped it to the bartop, gulping the beer down to make room for words. "And guess who had to bring our ambiguous lil' starlett to justice?" He slapped his finger back to his chest before his hand vanished into the depths of his navy coat pocket. "Yours truly. An' this 'ere." He pulled back his collar to reveal a scar in the shape of a bite mark. "Y'can peg Lucy inna ruttin' sky with drugs n' high powered explosives for that work of art."

The bartender got a good belly laugh out of the end of his little tale. "How'd that go down?"

"Bad times, the memories are enough to burn the mind incapable of olfactory senses. Best we keep that one locked away, eh?" He sounded half serious as he tugged the 'credit card' from his jacket and presented it.

The bartender lifted the small electric scanner and deducted the payment from his credit account, muttering with a 'you're full of ' grin. "Sure thing.."

Ollie pocketed the card and slid off his seat at the bar, picking up a large duffel bag that he had stowed beneath it. He propped it up over his shoulder and raised his brows. "Cheers." He said, then turned abruptly and started heading for the door. Half-way to the door he turned on his heel to discerning glance back at the tender. "Oh, an' if y'put a spittle more dirty daughter in that swill of yours I'm liable ta take it personal, dong ma?" The color in the bartender's face went from bruised red to ghost white, but Oliver kept on walking. He did have places to be, after all.

Oliver continued through the crowds with an openly vacant expression, feeling the last traces of the alcohol straining from his brain. It was at or around that moment when he spotted his assigned ship, not but two blocks away from the drinking establishment.

He absently pulled back his coat-tails and placed his hands on his hips, giving the Horizon a good once over. As expected, it was a small vessel, a far-cry from the massive alliance cruisers he'd eventually grown used to. Everything else about the assignment was pretty much old hat. Small team, shared area, a make-shift family of highly trained killers. Just warms my cockles. He mused, just before laying eyes on a deceitfully delicate looking woman with eyes that called attention to her inner strength and surety. She was also quite beautiful to Ollie's reckoning. He hoisted his bag up tighter to his shoulder and started toward the ship.

"Nihao." He said with a slight, friendly smile and extended a hand to her. His body went slightly rigid at the possibility of greeting a superior officer. "Officer Oliver Morgan reporting for duty." He returned his hand, his eyes drifting from left to right, looking as if he just realized he left the iron on at his flat. "Assuming I'm at the right ship and haven't just blown my cover."

(OOC Translations:"Fang Pi" = B.S. "adam and eve" = believe it, "dirty daughter" = water)

[amaia]

Amaia looked the man once over. His image wasn't exactly what artists painted a picture of, but thinking about the appearances of the rest of the crew thusfar, this Officer Morgan was more foreboding, and more intimidating. He also looked like the kind of person she wanted on her side when push came to shove.

She could also see in his eyes a curiosity. Her presence was obviously a bit of an oddity, and Amaia took care to use her delicate appearance to bely her lethality. Whether or not this Alliance officer in front of her could recognize the latter was yet to be seen.

Amaia smirked a little as she devoted her full attention and facing to him. "Don't look so scared, Morgan," she said, "You're on the right boat, although you'd do well to get rid of your proper military sensibilities." She brushed some of the dust off of his shoulder and offered her hand, trying to be gentle and graceful in both actions. "The name's Amaia Sang, First mate of the Horizon." She nodded and smiled, again taking pains to appear as harmless as possible.

[matticus]

She had a firm handshake. A woman as gorgeous as her went through twice as much macho military bull crap than any trainee runt had to. His gut warranted her combat ability as paradoxically formidable as her attractive appearance. And Ollie had placed all and future bets on his gut and it's abilities of uncanny perception.

"Don't look so scared, Morgan," she said, "You're on the right boat, although you'd do well to get rid of your proper military sensibilities."

Oliver had been beaten over the head enough times to know where to draw the line, provided he still stepped on or around it from time to time. His shoulders dropped and a knowing grin flooded over his polite smile, shifting his weight to his back leg.

"That will be the first an the last time you're gonna have to chime me 'bout that miss, promise that much. "



"The name's Amaia Sang, First mate of the Horizon."

"Amaia." He said, trying out the name before nodding curtly."Pleased to meet ya." He hoisted his bag up again over his shoulder, feeling the pleasing heft of his equipment pressing into his back. He peered over Amaia's shoulder briefly into the dark of the ship, then shifted them back to her."Don't suppose you've got a vacancy?" He paused, waiting for her to point him in the right direction if she was able to.

"I require a gold plated refrigerator and a collection of miniaturized liquor bottles as part of my contract." He joked as he two-fingered a smoke and light from his front pocket, plugging the filter into his mouth.

[amaia]

"Vacancies?" Amaia asked. She tallied the crew on her fingers. "I think we can find a dark corner to tuck you away in." She smirked and pointed towards the stairs. "Should be a few available bunks up there. I'd offer you help with your gear, but I have a strange feeling you don't need it, or want it."

She glanced out the cargo doors to make sure no one was coming onboard who wasn't authorized before turning back. "As for your miniature liquor bottles in a gold fridge - you provide the fridge, and I'll get you some grown-up sized bottles of the good stuff." She planted her hands on her hips, allowing herself to fall out of gracefulness into a more natural, and more tomboyish, demeanor. "I'm thinking those one-drink Osiris hotel bottles are banned on the Horizon."

[matticus]

"I think we can find a dark corner to tuck you away in."

Ollie flicked the lighter to life and sparked up his cancer, loosing a snicker at Amaia's rebuttal.

"Should be a few available bunks up there. I'd offer you help with your gear, but I have a strange feeling you don't need it, or want it."

He batted his smoke-hand dismissively, "I'm a big boy, love. Got chest-hair n'everything." his knuckles whitened against the strap over his shoulder as he started forward, into the belly of the Horizon. The ship wasn't ugly, had that sort of functional charm that blended quite nicely with most of his belongings.

"As for your miniature liquor bottles in a gold fridge - you provide the fridge, and I'll get you some grown-up sized bottles of the good stuff."

Ollie threw his gaze back at the military woman, she appeared quite serious about the offer. "No dice an' play? Must've pleased some tailored suit geezer to land this gig." He turned around and continued to head off in the direction of his bunk to get himself settled in, his thoughts running in a few directions other than assesement. Hope they've got more twists and twirls where she came from.

((OOC Translations: dice an' play= kidding/games/joke
twists and twirls = girls))

[amaia]

"I don't think the Captain has many tailored suits," Amaia replied with a laugh as Oliver started to leave. She then turned her attention to the admittedly empty cargo hold.

"Captain, sir?" she called out. "How many more crew are we expecting? Should I see about getting our cargo and supplies stowed away for departure?"

((OOC - sorry for the short post, just bumping the thread))

[robertborden]

"No, there shouldn't be any more guests, but I would like everything stowed and secured so we can leave as soon as possible," said the captain as he looked toward Morgan. "So what are you're first impressions of Mr. Morgan, and rest of the crew, anything I should look out for." he needed to know he could trust his first mate and he wanted her to know that he would be relying on her somewhat.

Borden already had general interpretations about each of the crew members, but he wasn't going to be so naive as too think he could catch everything.

(ooc: I'm going to try and start the horizon's visit to to St. Alban's soon, maybe have an intermediate thread like what was done in the Orlando)

[amaia]

"Mr. Morgan is an interesting specimen," Amaia said, glancing back at the direction he had walked. "I could see him being incredibly useful if things go sour on the job." She scratched her head for a minute. "They don't make many like him," she added as she looked back at the Captain. "Ballsy and proud, but good enough to back it up."

She started to grab some of the boxes of supplies and stow them in the hold as she continued her assessment. "I think in terms of skill, we have an incredibly solid crew. I'd trust any one of them with their job." She pulled a tie-down sharply, and the metal portion clanged against the box with a resounding thwack. "What I'm concerned about is how being an Alliance flight while pretending to be the scum of this universe is going to work."

She walked back towards Borden and grabbed another box, pulling it towards the last. "I have no problem with Alliance formalities. This is my career, sir, and I'm here until I die or the Alliance doesn't want me anymore, and that means appreciating the way of life." The box arrived at its destination, and Amaia strapped it down before returning to the captain. "But standing tall at attention and salutes and salutations are something that are decidedly Alliance." She looked outside. Across the way she spied another commercial ship. "Crews on civilian birds respect each other. They show that respect through friendship and dedication. The Captain may get a sir from time to time, but it's not like us."

She looked at Borden. "I'm honestly curious if we can do our job, as black-bag and covert as it is, and maintain an air of Alliance formalities." She took a deep breath. "Speaking freely, sir, I've done some naughty..." she paused as she tried to find a polite way to speak, "...tyen shiao duh for the Alliance, and every time, I didn't feel like a soldier when I did. I felt like a shadow. A nightmare dispatched by some desk jockey to do the dirty work no one else wanted. The kind of work the Horizon will be doing.

"You can't do that kind of work in your dress uniform, is all I'm saying, sir."

[robertborden]

Borden mulled over the sentiment that his first mate had expressed. He knew she was right, and he had already taken some steps to achieve that goal. "I understand, and...as a first step to a lack of Alliance formality, you and the crew can call me Rob or Robert , if you wish. We will never mention ranks other than first mate and captain and the like."

He listened as she explained her previous work as a shadow for the Alliance. He knew of assassinations and other missions of gray legality and morality. "I understand and know of your past, and while on this mission, none of us are soldiers anymore." he began lifting one of the crates and carrying it over to the securing area. "We are shadows, venturing into new territory, past what we thaough we knew and beyond. Why do you think i named her "Horizon?" He smirked slightly, put the crate down and walked away toward the stairs.