Bridging the Gap

[Gage Silver 0]

Bridging the Gap

A Buck Lugo/Ra’gaar (Silver/Granger) Log

 

Things, Mariusz mouthed incredulously as Gage explained the situation. “You are an engineer right?” he asked aloud, grinning.

 

“Why? Is that important?” Gage dryly replied. The engineers exchanged glances and there wasn’t a twitch in Gage’s face or sign that he was anything but dead serious. It grew awkwardly quiet and Mariusz was at a loss for words.

 

Then, Gage struck - literally - with a stinging clap to Mariusz’s shoulder. “Of course I’m an engineer,” he said loudly with a stupid grin on his face.

 

“So this duotronic circuit,” he pointed, casually returning them to business. Mariusz relaxed.

 

A few hours and several bad, torturous jokes later, the bug was resolved and just in time according to Gage’s MTM iWristwatch. Pulling out his iCommanche, he checked his schedule and grunted. Just in time for a watch on the bridge at communications, in fact. That should be a thrill, he cynically thought. Though he’d soon be on the bridge, he sent his report on the completed ‘repairs’ to Jed, thanked Mariusz for his help and exited Main Engineering. From there, it didn’t take long to navigate the small ship’s passageways to her command center.

 

Consistent with his conduct since the arrival of the Creek’s crew, Gage entered the bridge without an ounce of military bearing in his demeanor. Giving the compartment a casual once-over and better-than-thou scowl, he approached Momoa at communications, swaggering.

 

“You’re out,” he said offhandedly, a hand to the back of Momoa’s chair and the other jerking a thumb over his shoulder. “My turn. Don’t hog the board; I wanna call my girlfriend.” He grinned stupidly.

 

Cass’s eyes fixed solidly on the datafeeds of several newly-installed SPECOPS screens. Without turning she gave a sharp finger-point at the chair Moa had just vacated. “Sit,” she said as her gaze came to a sudden stop. She shifted her finger to tap one screen she had paused. “See that code? Memorize it. Follow it. Trace it. Find out everything you can about it and don’t get up until you do.”

 

Cassidy Granger, alias Ra’gaar, reset the screen to scroll while Gleason “Kahuna” Momoa, alias Moa, dropped his massive frame into a chair to her right. His dreads were knotted back, a loose-fitting low cut brown tunic drooped low enough to reveal an impressive set of pecs, and a leather cord kept a scrimshawed targh tusk between them. “Keep an eye on that comm tag we picked up,” she said in his direction. “See how often, where to, and decrypt the message.”

 

“You got it.” Moa gave Gage the briefest of looks before engaging his full concentration on task.

 

Still standing for a moment, Gage scrutinized Cass with a steady gaze; then glanced at Momoa who was, clearly to Gage, someone with whom he might be able to relate.

 

“That’s what she said,” he remarked offhand and indicatively tipped his head toward Cass as he sat in the chair. He briefly looked the code over. “What’s the situation?”

 

Cass shifted her eyes from the screen for a second, then turned back. “See those blips? All Orion Cartel, like a major convention in orbit. Comm is heavy encryption to and from the surface, and ship to ship. Some out of sector. Moa has a tag on one of interest we picked up, a ways out. You know the op?” She paused her screen and turned to face him. If he was SPECOPS, she’d been entirely to occupied with the new tech toys and had missed connecting with personnel coming aboard. Not good.

 

Gage started at her. “No,” he drawled at length. “My briefing consisted of: ‘go there; fix that’; oh, and, yeah, ‘there are bad guys involved’.”

 

A few seconds later Cass got a grip, took a deep breath, and back-peddled. “Okay.” She glanced from Tauriki to Moa, then back to Silver. “Verify your clearance.”

 

It took a few seconds for his thumb print to clear, then she pointed again to the screen. “You see that code, you follow it. It’s probably Black Kris, maybe Litasha, Black Kris leader. Code name ‘Package.’ But...” she gave a small head-tick toward him, “... just so there’s no confusion for teams on the ground, any comm traffic from the surface, no matter who it’s from, I handle it, or Moa does. He has everyone on Blue Force. Chemical markers.”

 

“Roger that,” Gage replied. That was better; his objective was starting to make sense. “Anything else I don’t know?”

 

Once more she shifted toward him, smoothing out her no-nonsense tone. “Yes. Just this. And it may save your life. We’re boarded, you’re my slave. Whatever I tell you to do, you do it.”

 

“What do I call you?”

 

“Ra’gaar. Or Mistress, if we’re boarded.”

 

“Ra’gaar.” Moa’s voice snapped Cassie’s attention right. “Captain’s on site, and we got visitors. Check it out. Looks like Blood Prince.”

 

“Ping Lightwind ‘light package on the prowl.’ Keep a close watch, monitor comms - you know the routine.”

 

“On it.”

 

Her eyes darted to Gage. “You got a track?”

 

Gage, concentrating on the screens in front of him, didn’t look back at her. “Yes.”

 

TBC in sim.

Edited September 5, 2011 by Gage Silver

[Shalin 0]

Careful, Quicksilver! I'm the only one around here who - with no other courses than my own resources - can make a fool of myself.

[Gage Silver 0]

Quicksilver? Please tell me that ain't gonna stick... Had my heart set on Max Mercury or Pink Floyd.