Attaching Motiffs
Posted on Sat Jun 25th, 2016 @ 12:39pm by Alika Mahone & Captain Rueben Gregnol & Leiddem Kea (*)
Edited on on Sat Jun 25th, 2016 @ 3:08pm
Mission:
Mission 1 - Bridges
Location: SS Mary Rose, Hull
Timeline: MD: 10 - 12:00
1579 words - 3.2 OF Standard Post Measure
::ON::
Barton struggled for roughly an hour, making rather a show of the grunting and head scratching, before Rokar, Taben and Rueben three; took pity on the sheer magnitude of his fatuity.
At first, their aid was given in the form of a rousing consultation, in which each went to pains at elucidating Barton on the colossal impracticality of his actions. Although he made no show of it, truly he was impressed at how quickly they knitted against him, forming a unified front and enhancing their arguments en force. This ended plainly, Barton sighting Captains Prerogative as a short cut to circumventing their bones of contention.
In the end, they used ropes! Barton liked watching the three more handy fellows to some clique of ancient boy-scouts, as they tied various knots and slung lengths of cordage over railings and deck flooring. After watching them figure out how to progress through this problem, he was feeling more confident they could handle what they were likely to face.
The statue itself was not particularly heavy, between the four of them the weight was no bother at all. Yet it’s shape made it awkward, and Barton’s chosen location to affix it, just above the now defunct torpedo tubes, was perhaps the most hard to reach place on the ship.
Despite this, there was some laughter and cheer, mostly at Barton’s expense, among the group, as they dragged up the visage of the woman hunter and welded it tight to the hull. She was dwarfed by the ship, a tiny gold spec lost among a field of grey, but Barton did not much care.
All the while they dangled like blow-flies on the great skin of the SS Mary Rose, a little crowd gathered on the promenade to watch the peculiar scene. Figureheads were last used on ships many hundreds of years ago, which made their procession all the more comical for onlookers.
That was not the point. When Bartons father had lost his Starfleet commission, he started a cafe in the fuselage of one of the first Earth-Lunar shuttles. People came just for the fact, and too drink coffee inside, not because it was outstanding, but merely because it was peculiar.
He smiled now, standing back on the ledge created on the Dorsal Stem by the torpedo tubes, as he took in Dianna, her arrow drawn strong and ready to loose.
“See, wasn’t that worth it in the end?” He asked the exasperated group standing about him. They had worked exceptionally well together, once they had got past how absurd they consider the idea, and though he would never say it, Barton was proud of them. Proud, he would have to be careful or he might end up feeling like a real captain, like this was a real crew; and not a selection of dissenters who would dispose of Barton just as soon as it suited them so.
Rueben stared at Barton wanting nothing more than to knock Barton over the back of his head like he used to, to make him see sense. He rubbed his hands on his trousers.
"So who is she? Dianna? Artemis? Athena?" Rueben wondered looking at statue carefully. He knew human mythology but it wasn't easy to see which version it was.
Rokar eyed the figure carefully, racking his mind for where he'd seen her likeness before. "She looks more like her Amazonian counter-part," he answered. "If I had to guess, possibly a merging between Hera and Inanna."
Barton liked the way her hair flowed back, it looked almost as if it was already fluttering in the wind of the ships acceleration. Her sunken gaze seemed cast out forward of the bow, searching the horizon for her enemies, waiting to let loose the barb of her arrow just as soon as the target was made.
“Less about who and more about what.” Barton corrected them both. “Sailors strung these to the bow-sprits for years, back when the wind was the only method of moving a ship towards its intent. Said it kept at bay those evil spirits sent to assail them, struck fear into the heart of their enemies.” Barton gave his shoulders a shrug as he shifted his gaze from the statue, to Rueben, then Rokar. “Made their ships look cool. Kind of poetic really, a wood hull full of 80 odd savages, brandishing knifes and rusty sabres, painted in ground up stone of white, screaming and yahooing as they slung like apes from the main mast onto the deck of another ship full of the same. To strike fear into the hearts of their foes, these men used naked women, with kind faces and soft breasts. She’s our maiden, and no matter how many forsake us, she’ll always be here, eyes cast to our horizon, scanning the skies in our interest.”
"Very poet Bart." Rueben murmured trying to not comment on how ridiculous Hera/Aretemis/Inanna looked on the ship. He sighed looking at the other two men rolling his eyes. "You will get used to it." He assured, twenty years had gotten him used to it.
Not that she'd been a part of it, It seemed unnecessary to her. Tabitha looked at the group, she stayed quiet and out of the way. This was going to be interesting.
"We'll get used to it, sure, but will everyone else?" Sitting cross-legged on the hull was the ever-youthful Alika Mahone, who had already done her part to help them sling the spectacle onto the ship.... in spirit. "I mean, there's going to be some ship with a feminist crew running about. They'll see the... whoever she is and they might have words to say about it. Or torpedoes."
"Ok If were done inviting Stupid Can we get moving so at least Stupid has to Aim a little Before hitting us?" Tabitha requested, Lords knew who would be after this bunch.
"I'm not sure Alika but it looks like this is what Barton thinks we need. We just got to hope you really are a hot shot pilot and can get us out of the way quick enough of the feminist torpedoes." Rueben said with a genuine smile for the pilot ignoring the rude Engineer. He was going to have to ask Taben how he was getting on with Tabitha. Kea watched the statue for a long moment before he burst out laughing.
"No one has yet asked where he got it from?" The Betazoid asked.
"Why would you spread that information, Whoever this belonged to Might actually want it back??" Tabitha said. She skipped off her perch and used her trusted to easily land next to the open upper hatch.. "Lets see if it'll shake loose.."
Alika shrugged. "It'll be hell to drive with. Might as well have cut off half the saucer for aerodynamics." From her spot, she squinted at their new decoration. "Whether I'm a hotshot or not might not matter, the turning radius on a Connie is hell, even with refits. Bronze Bertha over here might make it worse."
"That I would Pay to see, Connie go this way Bertha go that!" Tabitha swung right than left. "You want a live stream on her so we can record that day?" She laughed.
"I don't like the name Bertha... I like Rosie." Rueben spoke up finally pinning them all with a look that spoke that he didn't take kindly to the Mary Rose being called Bertha.
"Your the 'Boss' Name her what you like. As Long as you Stop somewhere so's I can fix the plating when she shears away in the future..." Having not been part of the installation of the monstrosity she'd already keys on at least One major mistake, "Rosie" was in for one hell of a ride... "Ok with you folks, I'd like to peel out of my suit. So, Bye!!!" She tapped the hatch control and it slide in place as she was lowered to the deck below. They'd have to wait at least five minutes for it to cycle open again.
And five minutes was far too long for Erim to wait for a bathroom break. He didn't want to use a more public waste reclaimation room as the Bolian digestive tract was... caustic. All the same, he missed the windo and would have to wait. So he simply stared out at the gilded statue. She reminded him of someone he once knew. Someone he was desperately seeking. An important reminder as to why he was there.
"I like it!" the young Bolian exclaimed over the trailing ends of dissent. "I think it's really keen, good sir. Nice choice." He hoped it didn't sound sarcastic, it was quite sincere. But he knew it likely just sounded sarcastic, and he frowned at his poor wording.
"You are all critics!" Barton muttered annoyed with the Engineer already and she had only been on-board days.
FINAL TAGS AND SIGNATURES
OFF::
Rueben Gregnol
Executive Officer
SS Mary Rose
Alika Mahone
Pilot
SS Mary Rose
Tabitha Tiffin
Engineer
SS Mary Rose
Rokar Quas,
Head of Ship Security,
SS Mary Rose
Erim Gleb,
Thief
SS Mary Rose
Taben Natal
Chief Technician
SS Mary Rose
Jefferson Lee Mosley
Head Doctor
SS Mary Rose
Leiddem Kea
Weapons Master
SS Mary Rose
