Complication at Jokotre

BIC:

The bunk creaked as LC groaned, eyes squeezed shut against the soft pulsing of the red alert chime echoing from his personal comm. His head throbbed—nothing tragic, just the lingering warmth of last night’s "traditional crew bonding." He slapped the comm panel like it owed him money.

"Wha… it's barely third watch..."

The voice crackled through, too crisp for the hour.
LC blinked. Sat up straighter. Grogginess fled like a fugitive with warrants.

"Security?...what the frack"

He ran a hand down his face, wiping sleep and secondhand whiskey vapor from his thoughts as Wenn finished the explanation. By the time "Captain’s endorsement" hit the airwaves, LC was already on his feet, boots half-laced.

He tapped the console for internal ship comms.

"Bronz. Bronz,...Need you on the concourse—Starport Security’s got someone claiming to be new crew, with paperwork that says they inherited Alice Petrov’s berth."

He pulls on a crumpled jacket, muttering to himself:

"Of course Alice would hand off her slot like it’s a pair of boots."

Back on comms, he keyed a direct line to Bronz again, this time with a little more edge:

"Grab your ID, head to checkpoint. Name’s probably on the dock manifest by now, but they need our say-so. If it looks squared away and the creds cleared, sign off for 'em—just make sure they’re not holding a broadsword, yeah?"

LC sighed and raked a hand through his hair.

"I'll owe you a proper sleep-in after lift-off."

Later after LC has a brew of Kaffee and waits in the galley area for the new 'hire' he tapps out on his hand comp terminal to Alice Petrov
"Thanks for the heads up"

He threw the hand comp terminal on the table.

He taps out a message to Bronz
"Have our new crewmate send over their certifications and any Merchant guild files they have to me."
He thinks for a second and then adds another text
"Please send me this person's name?"

LC sets up with a large tablet terminal comp and his personal hand comp terminal so he can multi-task the interview and see if Alice responds

He also gets Bronz's cup and pours him some fresh brew kaffee and sets it on the table.

He then hits the comm button on his hand terminal
"Tamm and Ma-Ma, this the Captain, I need you int he galley ASAP, we have a new crewmember. I need you fresh and alert."

LC watches the ship's security cams from his larger ship hand terminal to observe the new crewmember as they come up with Bronz.
If Alice sends him anything or if Jokotre Starport Security sends him anything he starts to read and devour it to prep for the interview.

a few minutes later......

The hiss of the airlock preceded a pair of footsteps in the entry corridor—Bronz first, his expression unreadable as usual, and behind him... the new recruit.

LC was standing near the galley table, cup of recaf in hand, posture halfway between casual and commanding. He gave Bronz a nod of thanks, then turned his gaze to the newcomer with a mixture of curiosity and caution.

"So. You’re the lucky sophont with Alice’s golden ticket."

He gestured toward the bench at the table.

"Have a seat. Don't worry, we’re all a bit rough-edged after last night’s sendoff, but I like to meet new hands with clear eyes and a strong brew."

He sipped his cup and set it down deliberately.

"I’m LC Rains. Ship’s Navigator, Administrator, sometime Captain... depending on who’s yelling. You’ve joined up with a crew that functions like a family—and like any family, we squabble, sweat, and save each other’s asses."

He leaned back slightly, eyes narrowing with practiced calm.

"So. Tell me your name, your trade, and what you bring aboard the Miss Fortune besides fresh paperwork and a face I haven’t seen."

The tone was cordial, but there was steel beneath it—this was LC doing his job, feeling out who just stepped into his house.

Bronz blinked at the comm, then pushed himself out of the bunk. He wasn’t exactly built to play security—no broad shoulders, no intimidation factor—at least not the kind that came from muscle, but sure, he could meet the new arrival. The scars and ink usually did enough talking if it mattered.

He keyed his comm to LC. "Yeah, I’ll take care of it. Not sure what you have about broadswords, though."

A faint smile flickered across his face—half hoping to see someone lugging a ridiculous weapon. However, the smile was only momentary as he headed for the checkpoint to see who was waiting.

Leilani wasn't sure what time her body clock she was still on, but it meant she was up at all kinds of weird hours alongside her shift. So at this weird hour, she just happened to be down in the galley brewing up her own sleepy juice from various 'erbs she'd picked up on her travels. She looked up a little groggily as the Captain entered the galley.

"Is this a private meeting? Should I just take my juice and leave you all alone?"

She gave a little friendly wave at the new person, not quite knowing who or what they were in this equation.

LC blinks while he is getting everything set-up. Leilani can see on the larger hand terminal tablet the security cams showing Bronz and the newbie coming up to the airlock. LC runs his hand through his sleep-mussed hair. He looks at Leilani, mid-brew, and offers a bleary grin.

"Private meeting? C'mon now, Leilani—on this ship, privacy’s usually reserved for airlocks and confessionals. You’re always welcome."

He gestures at the cup in her hand.
"’Less your sleepy juice is volatile... in which case, I might need a top off."

After Kayla Hong enters the galley slash ready room slash Union Hall slash interview room LC turns toward the new arrival, LC gives a light nod.
"This here’s Leilani—one of our finest minds when it comes to keeping the reactor humming and the walls from depressurizing. Also, she makes a mean pot of whatever that is."

Then, back to Leilani, with a lopsided smile.
"Stick around if you like. Might as well all get to know who we’re sharing air with, yeah?"

Tamm forgot to turn down the volume on his intercom. LC's voice booms through the cabin.

Tamm's eyes pop wide open. "WTF!"
All he knows is the Captain wants him to go to the crew lounge. Slipping the top of his coveralls in place, Tamm puts on his ship's boots then walks carefully to the gallery. No questionable graphic tee today. His tee advertises something called "I Can't Believe It's Not Cow" written in Imperial Hindi. The words arch over a zebu's face with a chef's hat & halo over its head. A pair of spatulas crossed like swords are beneath the face. Fortunately, most of the tee is covered by his overalls.
मैं यकीन नहीं कर सकता कि यह गाय नहीं है!

Leilani is brewing something with an unusual but pleasant odor, LC is at the table. With a glance at the Captain's tablet, Tamm notes Bronz is escorting a new face toward the airlock.
With a deep groan in his chest, Tamm pours a cup of fresh kaf dropping in a couple of AlcoNix tables. He drinks it down then pours another cup as the airlock hisses. Somewhere in there LC & Leilani exchanged words but they don't register with Tamm.
"Ahhh."
The first wave of the stimulant beverage washes through Tamm's body & his mind clears. He stations himself by the kaf dispenser, sips his cup and relaxes with his usual tough & impassive expression.
"New meat, Captain?"
It's just possible that the newcomer heard Tamm's question.

LC looks away from the scene of Bronz and Kayla at the Airlock to look at Tamm, noticing the Hindi shirt
"Nice shirt and yes they come with recommendation from Alice."

Let's keep an open mind he says as he drinks the Kaffe from his mug. LC goes back to the screen and notices they are in the airlock already and he swipes away the live Orney Enterprises security cam app from the scene and looks at what the Star Port authority and if Alice Petrov sent to prep for the interview.

Repeat of above for Kayla Hong's character intro;

LC looks at Leilani

"Your call Leilani on whether you go now and pick them up or wait to see the interview. But that matrix cube sounds spicy!"

Kayla Hong follows the crew member who fetches her from the security personnel. At first she was flustered and watching the nearby areas. However as she enters the ship she seems to be more relaxed and in control. "Captain, I am Kayla Hong. I entered into a transaction with one of your former colleagues. As she explained her situation I decided that her interest in this particular enterprise would be beneficial to my situation. This opportunity literally came at the most opportune point in time for myself. As I needed to find a way to support myself. Preferably off of the miserable planet of Jokotre. As you can see, the documents are in order. All properly signed and notarized. Alice has decided that space travel scares her near to death. I believe that I can make a positive contribution to this project.

Kayla pauses while looking around the galley at the gathered crew members.

"The secret is this herd I got from a Vargr I know, apparently it's a relaxer for them, more so for humans..." She waved the spoon, though further explanations were lost with the news that she had visitors at the airlock.

"Bugger it's my last of my stash, someone keep stirring this concoction whilst I go play Baron!" She offered the spoon to the closest crewmember before leaving to collect the cube.

She was a little disappointed to miss the Captain dealing, but this was also a potential opportunity, and the one thing she learnt was that this crew was all about the opportunity.

Tamm throws back his second cup of kaf then takes the spoon from Leilani and stirs her infusion.

Kayla Hong walks in and introduces herself. His face doesn't give much away but he's makes an effort to look less intimidating. Although, a large man stirring a cup of tea isn't the toughest of images.

When it is his turn to introduce himself, Tamm rumbles saying,
"Tamm, Engineering."
He tries to put on a friendly smile but it doesn't reach his eyes.

LC gives a tired but cordial nod, the edge of sleep still lingering behind his eyes. He gestures for Kayla to take a seat at the galley table, the soft hum of the ship a low background rhythm.

"Ms. Hong," LC begins with a practiced ease, his voice mellow but firm, "welcome aboard the Miss Fortune. I trust the Port Authority gave you the full show—bright lights, bored officers, and all the dignity of a livestock queue." He grins lightly before turning the Handcom terminal around, skimming the notarized transfer documents.

"Looks like your paperwork is in order, and I appreciate the timeliness. That said..." he lifts his eyes to meet hers, tone shifting into something a shade more formal, "we're a working vessel. Shares in this crew come with expectations—and consequences. So before I put pen to screen, I have a few questions that should be answered outright, if you don't mind."

LC leans back slightly, resting an elbow on the galley table.

"Do you have experience in merchant activity—buying, brokering, selling cargo? Have you worked freight manifests, secured passage arrangements, or dealt with station logistics before? How are you with computers and systems—can you pull cargo leads, process deals, file permits, or handle the scramble when things go sideways?"

A pause, but not unfriendly.

"And what about starship operations? Helm? Systems? Maintenance? Or are your boots strictly grounded?"

He taps the handcomp terminal lightly, tone still even and courteous.

"I also make it a point—no judgment—to ask this of anyone joining mid-port, especially via private handover: Is there any unfinished business we need to know about? Former employers, personal entanglements, debts owed, or 'inconvenient' admirers? I’m not asking for scandal—I’m asking if there’s a name that might call in a favor from Port Authority or flag us at an inopportune customs checkpoint."

LC gives her a small, wry smile.

"We've got a ship full of folks reinventing themselves, Ms. Hong. That's the job. But we deal in honesty here, even when it's ugly. So, tell me... what do you bring aboard the Miss Fortune?"

LC’s reply to Kayla Hong, given in his usual composed, perceptive, and charismatic tone, while also ensuring the crew’s standards and concerns are subtly upheld;

LC leans forward slightly, folding his hands loosely on the table. His expression holds an amused patience, as though weighing her answer like a merchant weighs coins—checking not just the shine, but the stamp or the way a lawyer sizes up the jury before he makes a point.

"Well, Ms. Hong…" he begins slowly, "that’s a diplomatic way of saying you’ve never worked cargo in your life—but you’re clever enough to learn, and confident enough to admit what you don’t know. That alone puts you ahead of some we've dealt with."

He lets that sit a moment, offering her a small nod of acknowledgement.

"As for not knowing how to operate a vacuum suit..." he raises an eyebrow, "—we’ll fix that. Basic suit ops are part of onboarding. We’ll make sure you don’t pop like a party balloon the first time you walk the hull."

"Your experience with negotiations, permits, and smoothing friction between people—that’s useful. Might be a good fit working with Said Ma and our Purser’s duties. We don't just haul crates; sometimes we sell air to planets with none. And like you said, permits are politics with a laminate stamp."

He glances briefly toward the galley viewport, then back to her.

"Now, about your shadow-falling-on-sandal incident..." he says with a half-smirk. "I’ve seen the Archdiocese at work. I don’t take their grudges lightly, but I’ve also seen how they trip over their own robes when the right credits or contacts are involved. If you’ve got the good sense to steer clear of their temples for a few parsecs, we won’t hold that against you."

He leans back again, more relaxed now, his voice calm but with weight behind it.

"This ship’s called Miss Fortune for a reason. Every person aboard has something they’re running from—or toward. But aboard this ship, we don’t lie to each other, and we don’t quit on each other. You earn your berth not with past titles, but present effort."

He taps his handcomp once more, then sets it down.

"So here’s the deal: you’ll pull your share, contribute where you can, and learn what you don’t know. We’ll train you up as a Steward—passengers, galley, internal comms—and rotate you through port admin work alongside Said Ma. You’ll see how the business end of this vessel runs. If you prove your worth and stick it out, there may be more to do. If not—well, that’s up to you."

He gives her a final, sincere nod.

"Welcome aboard, Kayla Hong. Just don’t trip on any shadows while you're here."

Bronz watched Kayla Hong’s interview in silence. When he’d picked her up from security, he’d looked over her papers—more for show than anything else, trying to give the impression he knew exactly what he was looking at. He’d given a quiet nod of approval—right or wrong—and led her back to the ship.

They hadn’t said much beyond exchanging names, which suited Bronz just fine. He preferred to size people up before talking too much. And now, during the interview, he kept doing just that—watching, measuring, taking in the details.

LC is happy with Alice's replacement being Kayla and looking at Said-Ma;
"Kayla, Ms. Said-Ma who goes by Ma-Ma will show you to your cabin and what to do for the passengers."

Looking at Tamm, he motion for T-Jive (Tharokk) and Tamm to start preflight checks.

Looking at everyone he claps his hands with a smile in a casual manner;
"Okay people lets get this show on the road. We have preflight checks and ice-pops to get into their freezer lockers and better paying passengers to board in a couple of hours."

LC looks down at his hand Comp Terminal and sends a message to Leilani on ship's comms point-to-point
"Ms. Nekaii, your presence is needed on the ship so we can board the passengers and leave this pleasant place of enlighten sophonts. You do not want to miss movement. "

When he was looking at his hand comp he sees an old file image of his past
"Now I know what Carraday went through when I was an ungrateful shite" he says to no one in particular.