>>6048591You and Coen stop as the rest of your bridge crew, sans Engineering officer, wander leisurely down the corridor towards you. EoN leads the way with her beak held high as she makes a beeline towards you, a glint in her large round eyes. Close behind are Isobel and Cleo, gossiping loudly about the Beta watch bridge crew’s ill fated trials that seem to have freed up your afternoon duty assignment. Finally, lagging behind is Kiro — indeed dragging his bare feet and tail to absorb the maximum amount of warmth from the hotter deck plates running down the centre of the main thoroughfare.
You smile slightly as the inner <span class="mu-b">[Engineer]</span> in you notes how the quirk of the Opal class cruiser’s design naturally stratifies the non-human traffic it was never meant to account for. Meant for ease of maintenance access, the main electrical and coolant lines are placed under the deck plates of all the voidship's main corridors like arteries. The cooler lines running along the outer edges of the thoroughfare helping to cool the more heavily insulated Ulveng while the warmer return lines in the centre attract the colder blooded Marrok crew. A naturally increasing height gradient from centre to outskirts that incidentally prevents anyone from being stepped on and helps regulate body temperature in an ancient life-support climate designed to suit humans alone.
>>6046890>>6047271>>6047282>>6047287>2 SuccessesYou see your Ops officer’s half lidded eyes finally look up and he waves lazily.
“Heyyy, sssup Dal?” He lisps, “I got Izzzzy, to lisssten to usss about you-know-what. And-haaaa” He yawns, and doesn’t seem to care about finishing the sentence.
“Great work, buddy.” You reply, giving your little brother a thumbs up.
Before you can ask him exactly how he managed that feat when you yourself were unsuccessful, your Science officer reaches you and jabs a feather finger into your collar — deactivating your MPC.
“Dallas, we must speak.” Eyes-of-Night squawks softly, the Tyllano woman’s translator already deactivated. “It’s about those medical records you mentioned from your simulation.”
She draws you aside, head swivelling around almost backwards to check noone is listening in.
Cleo and Isobel pull ahead, making a beeline for the officer’s mess and you wave a curious Kiro on as he stops to look at you.
“We’ll catch up.” You reassure him, and the little lizard simply nods and continues his slow, plodding pace down the hall.
You return your attention to the stern gaze of your co-conspirator who has raised a wing-arm to shield your conversation from anyone else passing by. You hope they don’t get the wrong idea.
“What did you find, EoN?” You ask.
