Tarp or umbrella.  Pulley system.  It seems to be turning into quite a production.  "Perhaps it would be best if I saw what I had, first," she notes.  A wave of the dataglove follows as Shui shrugs into her shirt - the ship will be considerably cooler than the balmy outdoor air - and heads for the ladder.  "Thank you, Mr. Tescali, for reminding me; if someone could ask Marina regarding her own needs, I could scour the galley."

Down the ladder she goes, a woman on a mission...to find food for this group, and some means to cook it for a 'proper' (or improper) barbeque.

Fortunately, she has assistance; Ash and Jago seem to be well-prepared with ideas to work out, and Tylen has accompanied her.  "My thanks, Mr. Orgesh," she offers the gunner as they move through the halls toward the galley, her feet padding quietly on the steel floor.  She enjoys the gunnar's company, in fact; quiet, thoughtful, but not overbearing.  And with taste, she notes with interest as the music flows through the speakers.

"Build a grill..." Shui can't help but smile at that.  "Not entirely a poor idea, though if we construct every idea this crew comes up with on our travels," she murmurs, poking through the drawers and fridges in search of food, "poor Captain Lanza won't be able to turn any profit thanks to a lack of cargo space."  She shoots an amused smile over her shoulder at the former scout.

Jago raises a hand to shade his eyes as he gives Ash a noncommital grunt, "That would be up to her, of course." he says quietly, "If she asks me, I'd probably recommend that she stays aboard until we're on the Main itself, and in a well-defended system inside the Imperium.  But by the time we get to Denotam, she might be sick of us.  Sometimes I think the Margin doesn't match her expectations of starship travel."

"I expect Yas has some idea that she can't keep the girl as a pet." he adds with a smile.  "Or maybe I forgot to explain that to her... "

The captain thinks for a moment, "Should be a tarp in a storage bin in the back of the air-raft.  I'm sure we could lash some sort of shelter together using the sensor array as a support structure."

As Shui glances over her shoulder she catches Tylen admiring her legs, so neatly shown off by the shirt and bikini bottom she is wearing.  His eyes crinkle slightly perhaps in  embarrassment at being caught, perhaps at her humour as she suggests that Jago might fail to make a profit.

"Oh, I'm not worried about all things the rest of the crew dream up, just my ideas." he says with an easy grin.    "It would be good to go for a proper barbecue somewhere." he says wistfully.

Then he switches back to a a light hearted, jokey style as he continues "You know, on a deserted island somewhere, fresh caught fish on the barbecue, a cocktail or three, some soft music, the moon just peeking between the trees ...."

Saskia jumps up and goes to the 'raft.  The tarp is just where Jago said it would be.  She drags it out and starts spreading it out on the hull, close to the sensor cowling.

The cowling itself should be sturdy enough, and the sensors are protected by transparent (at least to the semsors) panels, intended to shield them when travelling in an atmosphere.  Some of the safety line they used while swimming should work to secure the sheet in place.

Just need to cut the line.  She reaches into a pocket for a tool capable of severing it, then remembers that she's not wearing her coverall.  "Need to fetch a fission cutter.  Be right back." the engineer explains, before popping the dorsal airlock and taking the direct route down to her tool storage.

It seems she's in luck; Shui locates some suitable ingredients for a BBQ.  Spices, or a reasonable facsimile, BBQ sauce, and some protein that resembles chicken.  Plus some frozen fish that will do well for Marina.  But during the hunt, she finds Tylen's gaze where some might consider it out of bounds.

Shui doesn't take it as such; it's not like the gunner is leering and drooling.  The man has far too much class for that, and she is a little short on clothing at the moment.  Part and parcel of the beach day.  One might even think it a compliment.

"A 'proper' barbeque," she notes, shifting back halfway into the freezer.  "What you describe, Mr. Orgesh, doesn't quite fit."  Amusement spices her tone.  "Cocktails and soft music?  A moon?  I would expect..."  Consideration follows, and another glance over her shoulder.  "A stringed instrument, much loud singing, and beer."

Gripping a box of fish, she drags it out; despite her lean frame, Shui handles it with surprising ease.  There's no question half of the crew out-muscles her, but she has never been weak.  "What you describe," she notes, facing the gunner and brushing back a lock of hair, one eyebrow slightly arched in interest, "is a dinner for two by the sea."

"Admittedly, I far prefer your idea myself.  But with whom would you share this?"  Out comes the mock-chicken, hitting the deck with a *thud*.  "Ms. Crow, perhaps?  You seem to get along quite well..."  Back in the freezer in search of the sauce, the Steward finds herself uncertain how to handle the situation with the gunner.  It has come up before on other ships, but never with someone she holds in quite the same regard as the gunner.  Of course, she might be reading things completely wrong; if that is the case, she should spare them embarassment...

"Or would this be entirely theoretical?" she offers as she collects the sauce.  A way out for him, should he desire one.

Ash nods to Jago on all counts.  He has not gotten the sense the Keryn has tired of the Profit Margin and its crew, but then Jago is likely a better judge of character than him.  He can't help but comment to the Captain with a slight shrug, "Yet, I don't think that she will find Denotam to be exactly up to her expectations either.  There never is any place quite like home.  Nor is anything quite like the vids."  He knows that from plenty of personal experience - he fell for propaganda promos twice with two different Imperial Services.  A slightly crooked smile crosses his face for a moment.

But then the navigator moves to the air-raft to help Saskia unload the tarp.  Ash helps to spread out it out, carefully avoiding the sensor arrays; he knows that some of the radiation beams from the various detection equipment can cause issues at very close ranges.  He continues to pull in the spare lines in from the water as the ship's engineer heads below to retrieve a fission cutter.  Ash works quickly securing various sections of the lines to the corners of the tarp, pausing every minute or so to scan the horizon and the various sensor display data from the very arrays next to him; data that is being routed to his headset via a rather circuitous route through the central core and his p-comm and wrist computer back to his headset.  The irony is not lost on him, but it is secondary to his monitoring duties.
This message was last edited by the player at 22:25, Fri 16 Sept 2011.

"I guess Yas would enjoy that type of barbecue?" Tylen says with a smile as Shui successfully describes the beach parties of his youth.  "They can be fun too.  They were one of the main  forms of entertainment for us youngsters back on Lopiengeta when I was growing up.  Except that real beer was generally too expensive.  There was always a goodly supply of some rot-gut or another, though.  And some of it we even called beer." he adds with a grin.

He pauses for a moment to watch Shui's reaction, before he continues with his story.

"I grew up  by the sea," Tylen explains "So I guess the setting comes to mind automatically." he grins.  "But after all the raucous drinking and singing, even a guitar can play soft into the the early hours of the morning when the moon rises." he half teases "And it is always good to gaze up at the stars with a friend." he adds with,  perhaps, a slight emphasis on the final word.

"Although I did add in the the trees and the cocktails.  Neither were to be found in great quantities on Lopiengeta.  Certainly not that I could afford as a teenager" He admits with a broad grin.

"And I would be more than pleased to introduce you to those pleasures, Doctor Tiesi, should the opportunity ever arise." he suggests as he  suddenly stands upright, clicks his heels together and executes a mock military bow in her direction.  Having thrown the ball back into her court, he lounges back against the door frame to continue watching her prepare the barbecue.

Keryn returns to the water for a little relief from the local gravity, and Yas takes up a position where she can keep an eye on the girl who currently seems to be playing some sort of game with Marina involving clenching a hand into a fist and suddenly opening up two or more fingers in a way which determines the winner.  Or not opening them, which seems to also determine the winner, sometimes.  There are occasional disputes, which seem mostly due to Marina's poor manual dexterity causing her to fail to adopt one of the sanctioned hand postures, but on the whole, the pair seem to be enjoying themselves.

Jago picks up Saskia's reading material, and sets it aside almost immediately, shaking his head in resignation...

Saskia herself fetches some tools and continues working with Ash to set up the tarp. 

Meanwhile, Shui and Tylen are sorting out food for the meal...

Ash grunts as he shifts sections of the tarp to place them in better positions to tie it down.  His thin frame is not very well suited to dealing with the manual labor, but he manages to get the job done.  Once the tarp is in place, Ash gives another grunt; this one a little less planned as the large plascloth shifts slightly on its own, twisting with the light breeze.  Ash grimaces slightly as the tarp moves unbidden and its effective weight increases substantially.  He slides slightly and as his feet get pulled a couple of inches before he finishes tying the line down properly.

"Avast" he mutters under his breath, "we be underway, Captain, to parts unknown..."  He glances at Saskia to see if the engineer has overheard him.  Then his eyes dart to the displays in his headband's HUD reticule.  The Margin has apparently become a seafaring craft - conquering yet another, more viscous, physical medium.  Ash begins to move from corner to corner of the tarp, pulling on the lines to see if they can actually alter the course by which they are (albeit slowly) drifting.  A slightly smile plays on his face as he does so.  "Fascinating." is all that escapes his lips in response to their makeshift sail; he's read about the Age of Sail in the Solomani history books, but it was only a passing reference.

Finished removing the sauce from the chiller, Shui casts about for a box to hold her discoveries.  "I am most certain they could be interesting," she muses.  "Such things were not the norm where I grew up.  Sadly," the doctor admits.  They do sound like a pleasure...except for the 'rot-gut'.  Crudely distilled alcohol occasionally comes with impurities, though Tylen seems to have escaped that issue.

The doctor mentally kicks herself out of her analysis; there are times she should set her medical training aside, and this is one of them.

"I recall your mention of your home planet, and its oceans.  Did you, by chance play guitar, Mr. Orgesh?" Shui inquires, one eyebrow cocked as she places the food into the storage boxes for easier transport.  But the doctor pauses in consideration of the emphasis Tylen puts on the word 'friend'; it isn't something she would miss.

How to read it?  A suggestion of friendship alone?  Or a metaphor for something more?

A small laugh escapes her as he finishes with a self-deprecatory comment on his youthful financial woes.  Packing completed, Shui turns to face the gunner, her head cocked to the side speculatively.  Many, many thoughts roll through her mind in that moment.  "I rather enjoy cocktails," she notes, tapping her lip with her index finger.  "And late nights."  The smile returns. "I would be...interested to see what you came up with, Mr. Orgesh."

"Quite interested, I think."

Tylen's Eyes and mouth open wide, for just a moment, in mock surprise as Shui admits to enjoying cocktails and late nights, but that quickly subsides into a smile as he holds his hands out to take the recently packed box.

"In which case, we had better build that grill just in case the opportunity arises." he grins, "Although maybe we could see what we can find for a trial run on the next half decent planet that comes along?" he suggests.

He pauses for a moment or two before he takes on a serious face "But I ought to admit now, that I can't play the guitar."

Then feeling, perhaps, that it is time to relieve the tension slightly, Tylen continues on a lighter note.  "So what was your equivalent of teenage beach parties then?"
This message was last edited by the player at 21:57, Mon 19 Sept 2011.

His feigned astonishment makes her wonder about the face she puts forward; upon consideration the Steward can easily see how she might appear 'uptight' about certain things.  Shui passes over box #1 - the heavier one, she won't insult him by taking it herself - and purses her lips in a moue of consideration.  "Grill?  If it were a group barbeque you proposed, certainly.  As I said, it sounded more like a dinner for two - with cocktails - but..."  She turns away to pick up the other box.  "...perhaps I misunderstood."

Lifting, she again turns to face the gunner, a small smile playing about her mouth.  "And perhaps you might clarify the matter during the 'trial run'."  She cocks her head and the smile quirks a touch at his admission.  "No need for concern, Mr. Orgesh; I certainly won't hold you to playing the guitar."

But the conversation shifts, the gunner turning to another topic.  An easier, less-charged one, he likely believes.  For a moment, Shui's eyes are glassy mirrors as she stares through him.

The sixteen year old girl finishes shoving her single bag of luggage into the station disposal chute, where centripetal force will drag it to the conveyer leading to the incinerator.  There, her clothing, her ID, everything she carried will be torched, gone to gases to be expelled harmlessly into the void.

She slides her hands down her new coveralls, testing the feel, runs shaking fingers through her crudely-cut hair.  The digits are cold.  Tension, her mind clinically notes, squeezing the blood vessels, impeding flow to the extremities.  Psychological shock.  Fear.  Adrenaline.  She knows the signs, understands the effects; dealing with them is another matter entirely.

Her icy fingers find the small pouch at her belt and count out the currency she has taken from her account - hard cash, less-common in this day and age but required by certain darker aspects of society.  A short time ago, it counted out to four thousand, two hundred and thirty seven; sufficient for false ID from the forger she located, following protocols never meant for this specific purpose.  Insufficient for ID and passage, sadly; very little remains.

She will need to take work on a ship - anything she can find - to get off this station.  Fortunately the girl has superficial ability in a broad spectrum of skills, and as a result of that training learns and adapts extremely quickly.  And she has time, but no more than a week, and she needs many days between herself and those who will come in search.  They will first suspect an accident, or perhaps a critical failure on her part.  They will be concerned.  They will search the wrong places.  By the time they check her account, they will have begun to realize the impossible truth.

By then, she hopes to be out of reach.

Brushing back her shorn hair, the girl raises her ID, reading off the name to herself.  Her lips curl into a smile beneath her blank, glassy eyes, and Shui steps out of the alcove into the bustling crowd.

Shui blinks; a half-second of hesitation, no more, and the life returns to her gaze.  "Teen parties...well, my world was less permissive than some.  Social pressures.  But children," she notes, "can be willful, much to my parents' dismay.  I fear I disappointed them with my carrying-on."  Her arms shift the box around, seeking a better grip.  "As young teens, my brothers and I purloined our parents cars to drive about the back roads, went into town to see the nightlife - such as it was - and occasionally, foolishly, stole liquor from the cabinet."

She offers the gunner an ironic smile as she slips past him, her bare feet padding on the deck.  "Nothing quite so interesting as your beach parties, I fear.  It must seem rather tame."

"Oh, I thought a quiet evening  with the pair of us grilling fresh caught fish and mixing cocktails, while we wait for night to fall and the moon to rise would probably count as a quiet dinner for two." Tylen suggests in a mock-disappointed voice.  "But we could always start off with dinner next time we get somewhere civilised." he suggests "Although I have to admit I am not all that good in fancy restaurants."

Taking the box, he leads the way out through the cargo area as he listens to Shui's tale of borrowed cars and stealing liquor.  However,  he hadn't survived for years in the scouts without noticing short silences, but he had also learned that peoples' histories were their own, and there were right times and wrong times to push.  So he  settled for a slightly tongue in cheek jibe ...

"Stealing cars?  Tame?  You must have some interesting stories to tell." he says with a quiet grin.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:16, Fri 07 Oct 2011.

Jago smiles as he realises what's going on, before ordering Yas and Keryn out of the water, just in case.  "I hadn't thought of this, Ash." he confesses, "I'm used to the Margin being pretty much immobile once she's on the surface with the dives off.  Just don't mention to any Navy crew we meet that we have a ship that blows about in a slight breeze."

Shui and Tylen make their way back up onto the dorsal surface, using a makeshift harness of EVA tethers to haul supper up with them...

"Ah, here we are, and it definitely smells delicious." the captain greets them with a grin.

"Nonsense, Mr. Orgesh," Shui counters.  "I'm certain you would know your way around a decent restaurant.  But I would be fine with grilling and cocktails on a beach, frankly; it sounds far more interesting than a stuffy place with officious waiters."  Reaching the ladder, she stuffs the food she carries into the tethers.

"Of course the fish would be for you," she notes.

Up the ladder she goes, chasing the food.  "Stealing cars from our parents," she corrects over her shoulder.  "Which means taking the keys when they were out hemselves."  She glances back down at him, her smile flashing in the shadow of her face, silhouetted against the darkening sky.  "Not exactly auto theft in the eyes of the law."

Looking up, she cocks an eyebrow at Jago.  "Captain Lanza, my thanks for your pulley system.  In return, let me see about properly preparing the dish Mr. Orgesh and I have ferretted out, and you may be the first to test it." Up and out, and Shui turns to offer Tylen a hand out of the hatch.

"Ahh, Yes." Tylen  metaphorically kicks himself for having forgotten that the steward is a vegetarian, and then irreverently wonders about the planet Vegetaria , but shakes his  head to bring himself back to the problem in hand.  Deciding that this is not a good time to tease Shui further on the concept of car theft, he helps out getting the boxes up onto the  'deck' of the new ship.  "Hey!  I just carried." the gunner disclaims any part in preparing the meal "I don't go poking around in Shui's drawers looking for things to eat.  I've seen those clips of a steward chasing crewmen with a cleaver ..." he quips as he walks over to inspect Ash's makeshift sail.

The ship isn't exactly breaking any travel records, unless there is some sort of record for the slowest moving starship in history.  Marina is easily able to keep up, and demonstrates this by, literally, swimming rings around the makeshift windjammer which, due to drag and the position of the sail near the stern of the ship, is actually cruising tail first into the unknown.

Jago seems to find the whole thing highly amusing, all through the impromptu barbecue, and comments frequently about how much more restful sail is as a mode of transport than, for example fusion drives, HEPlaR, or even Profit Margin's own thruster plates.

Corlan comments at one point that it probably wouldn't take much work to attach a makeshift rudder to the ventral turret and use that to steer the ship.  Eneris follows this up with the suggestion that a proper mast could probably my lodged into the dorsal airlock.

Saskia frowns at all the comments about fitting rudders and masts onto Profit Margin.  The ship is designed to travel in space and, while she's capable of taking something over two gees of acceleration, her design specifically assumes that said thrust will be applied to very specific areas of her structure, and in equally specific directions.

Attaching a rudder to a turret will apply forces to a portion of the ship which was not constructed to handle those forces.  It would doubtless result in damaged bearings.  Wedging a mast in the airlock would probably buckle the hatch.

If they keep talking like this, she may have to ask Yas for a loan of her pistol.  There probably isn't a court in the sector that would convict her.

Shui wrinkles her nose at the implacation of herself and cleavers.  "I would never, Mr. Orgesh," she protests, her amusment plain. "And as Ms. Blake discovered, I would be more likely to harm myself than I would cause any damage to my quarry."

The boxes hit the deck and Shui begins to work as the massive ship drifts, its motion virtually imperceptible.  The fish is laid out to thaw, the BBQ food prepared, and futher drinks made ready for crew and passengers alike.  All the while the Steward considers her conversation with Tylen, wondering where it might lead.

It likely isn't a good idea, she muses.  Not for Tylen, certainly.  Unless he's simply looking for an enjoyable time.  Anything further might be...not a good idea, she repeats to herself, shying away from the possibilities.  Play it by ear, she decides, shooting the gunner a quick glance from the corner of her eye.  It's against her better judgement, but...what harm could it do to wait and see?

A great deal, an honest part of her notes, but she brushes that thought aside.

Ash gives Jago a tilt of the head and an equally crooked smile to match, "Aye Captain, but I prefer to think that we could brag that the Profit Margin and her crew have conquered a third travel medium..."

A raise of the eyebrow and he adds, "I mean she doesn't sail without us and it is good information to know.  You know," he adds with a shrug, "j-just in case."

Ash's rather boyish enthusiasm gets the better of him, if only for a moment.  He nods to Tylen as the other scout approaches the tarp.  Ash pulls on one line to show that the amount of wind captured fabric can be adjusted somewhat.  From what little experimentation that he has done, Ash does know that they can alter their course and (at least, theoretically) their orientation in the water with proper sail adjustment.  "Pretty slick, eh?" he ventures.

But then he notices Saskia's frown and Ash swallows hard and his voice trails off.  He purses his lips, hoping fervently that he has not gotten on the engineer's bad side with his comment.  Ash definitely does not want his fresher's input and output lines reversed; that would just be plain unpleasant.  His brow furrows at the thought.

The barbecue goes well, Marina particularly enjoying the fish, and apparently glad of the brief change of diet away from the local sea life, which she describes as a little too salty for her tastes, though her "cousin", she explains, thinks it's marvellous.

Shortly after midnight, ship's time, with the suns still fairly high in the sky, standing at about mid-afternoon in 728-907's near 42 hour day, Jago declares that they should take their leave soon.  People start finishing the last of their food and drink...

The sail/canopy is dismantled, cooking and serving equipment is lowered back into the air-raft bay, along with various towels and blankets.  The swimming tethers are detached.

Before too long, Profit Margin starts to look more like a starship again.

Marina watches the preparations for leaving with an air of sad interest...

Jago prepares to go below, but before he does so, he moves close to Yas and mutters, "Make sure nobody tries to bring the dolphin aboard as a pet."  He turns away, passing Tylen who assists him onto the ladder in the 'raft bay.  As Tylen releases his arm, the captain murmurs, "Make sure Yas doesn't try to smuggle the dolphin aboard as a pet."

Then he descends, leaving the crew to say their farewells and take one final look at what will probably be the last holiday spot they see for a while...

Ash spends much of the barbeque by himself, preoccupied with the mechanics of the makeshift sail and its effect on the course of the Profit Margin in the current.  He is more than willing (some might say overly eager) to discuss such things with anyone that will listen; his enthusiasm for that rather dry subject and its nuances is likely why he spends most of his time eating alone, monitoring sensor feeds and working some rather complex mathematical computations in his head as the ship's hull gently rocks on the ocean's surface.

And when Ash isn't discussing ancient naval navigation techniques, he appears to be thinking about wave dynamics.  Spurred on, obviously by the surrounding ocean.  He doesn't push his observations on anyone, but is quite eager to share them with anyone willing to listen.  He does seem to be quite knowledgeable about the subject - attributing his experience with the Imperial Naval and Scout services communications protocols for giving him both the theoretical and practical grounding in the subject.  He does try to engage Marina on the topic, interested in how her sonic abilities have influenced her perceptions on the matter.

As they pack up, Ash continues to monitor the sensor feeds as well - even if there is nothing of note to report.  He makes sure that the tarp is properly stowed back with the air/raft and all of the security lines are pulled back and properly wound for storage.  He bids Marina a farewell, noting to the cetacean, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Marina.  I wish you and your cousins happy explorations - here and abroad.  And I hope that our paths might cross again one day..."  Standing at the edge of the hull, he offers his hand out to Marina for a shake.

And then Ash waits until everyone else is done up top and is back inside the Margin before he makes ready to fly the air/raft back into the storage bay.

Shui spearheads the work in cleaning up, conscientiously avoiding any kind of marking of Saskia's beloved ship and ensuring all garbage is cleared away, rather than falling into the pristine ocean.  Finally finished, she pauses for a long moment to stare around herself, looking over the ocean and the sky.  Many interesting things have transpired today.

Many.

Moving to the edge of the deck, she crouches down to address their guest.  "Good day, Marina, and good bye.  I hope that we someday have the chance to meet again." It isn't likely - the universe being a vast place - but the universe is also mysterious, so who can say?  "All the best to you and your family; I hope they accomplish all they seek to carry out, and that this world treats you well during you stay upon it."

Then she moves to the ship's entrance, with only a final glance for the horizon.  There is work to be done, the detritus of their stay needing to be cleaned - dishes, cutlery, and other implements.  And she needs to ensure her more long-term guests are well emplaced in their temporary homes.

...and provide to the crew's needs.  Coffee, cocoa, the usual suspects.

The meal had been good and Saskia has to admit that it had been nice to eat something outside of the ship for a change.  She can't remember the last time she'd done that.  Surely it wasn't as long ago as the hotel fire and her first meeting with the aslan?

When Jago orders everybody back inside to prepare for departure, she goes instead to the edge of the ocean and crouches to speak quietly to the dolphin, "Thank you for having us, Marina, I've had a good time here.  I hope things go well for you.  Don't forget to warn the people at the settlement about how stupid it is to use their only transport out of here as a defence satellite.  Good luck to you and your family."

Only then does she descend into the ship.

Tylen helps with the clearing up, before stripping off again and taking a last swim in the salty water, using it as an opportunity to say goodbye to the dolphin and as one last reminder of the waters back home.  As he sculls gently on his back, ha catches sight of the steward saying her good byes to the dolphin and smiles slightly before he making his way back onto the ship.

Before making his way below though, he reminds Jago that Yas had told Marina that we would make contact the human contingent and suggest they withdraw their sentinel closer to home.