!EXVlxJM9Rg 06/15/10(Tue)05:45 No.10506125|
Not having anything else to do, you take a seat on one of the crates. Looking at the side of some of them, you aren't quite sure what the numbers and barcodes mean, and you don't have any handy means to open them up. After a while you ears pick up a sound. CLUCK, pause, CLUNK, pause, CLUNK pause. Looking up, you see a frightful sight. On a catwalk on the side of the cargo hold near you you see a man... well most of one. He is a wide and brawny man. His left leg is gone, replaces by a rod of gleaming metal. In place of his right hand is a hook, and his left eye is covered in a patch. He scratches at his beard and stars down at you, rolling a pipe from the left to right side of his mouth. "You two must be the new recruits. Welcome about me ship."
"It isn't YOUR ship Father, you're just the pilot." A small young woman stands behind him, her hands obviously mechanical, but streamlined.
"Ye may call me the Pilot Ishmael. And this... is my daughter, and copilot," He snarls the word as if it were a blasphemy to the Emperor, "Jessica. We'll be dusting off soon. Ye best make it back to yer cabin. There be turbulence as we rise."
"Take it from me, unless you want to hear him ranting about white Tyranids for three hours, don't ask him about the missing limbs." Ralph returns and looks up at the pilot. "He may look crazy, but he;s the best damn pilot in this arm of the galaxy. Well you'll soon see the rest of the ship, and crew, get to your cabin and get ready for take off. There should be a pamphlet or something in there that tells you what to do."
You comply, and are now alone in your cabin with Emmie, who has finally removed her mask. You can't seem to find the pamphlet Ralph was talking about though.