Trade Platform Georgia (Station)

Dumb

Compilatron "Both sounds great, what sort of payment do you receive here? do you mind goods exchange? or even payment through working?" Dasha slightly incline her head to the side, before noticing all the gazes locking onto the sword "oh, well you can take a look at it, one of the products that my forge had, and im pretty proud of it even till now" she turned the sword and handle out the hilt, gesturing the crew to take it

Compilatron

Dumb (nobody but the captain and another crew member are here)

The crew member eyeing her up seemed to like the idea of her working as a payment, before the captain's stern stare got him to mind his own business. The crew member took the sword, and gave it a stern examination.

"Credits. We take credits, or work."

Getting a little over-enthusiastic with the sword, the crew swung it around before it slammed into a tool cabinet and dropping it to the floor.

Compilatron

HMS-Hood "Yup, yup... we do."

He lead the pilot over to some fairly fresh couches and a simple barista setup behind a counter. There's a price sign to the side, in credits, but the crew member seemed not to care too much for getting payment from someone who almost died.

In a minute or two, a pot of boiling water was ready and poured into a teacup. Instead of a teabag, there a strainer filled with tealeaves. It smelt fresh.

"'s a hell of a way to go..." the man said.

"We ain't got room to fix y'r ship, we've been banking on an upgrade for a while, but to expand the hanger? It'd cost too much."

He looks at the strange coins he got.

"'s this? Currency of your faction?"

HMS-Hood

Compilatron
great I haven't had tea in god knows how long

the man walks over to the couches and takes a seat

yeah, you got that right, I saw a ship get blown up by an anti destroyer torpedo the entire thing just turned into a fine powder

ah thats fine, regardless the damn things mostly made of wood so I doubted you could fix it at all

yeah, those coins should be 59000 credits if you find the right place to exchange them their imperial pounds there only paid to people of the military.

Dumb

Compilatron "Work it is then" While the crew is still bewildered how the sword weighs almost nothing, Dasha gesture her right hand forward, and the sword simply floats back towards her, before she thrust it back into the circle its dropped from "What sort of work do you prefer? a renovation? or even an extension?"

Compilatron

HMS-Hood The crew member nodded, before going back upstairs to man the comms system.

HMS-Hood

Compilatron the man sipped his tea, asking "where ya going?"

Compilatron

HMS-Hood "Got a job to do... right y' nav's probably dead innit. Know where you are?"

HMS-Hood

Compilatron no, I was just drifting for god knows how long

Compilatron

Dumb "Depends on how much you want."

The crew member interjects. "Well... I mean... maybe we could sort out some... I don't know, long term employment... so she would... you know... be around more? "

The captain's disapproving stare went right through him.

"I mean... I don't know maybe it would be.... a good idea to have someone who can defend us... and that someone might be her... and she also... you know... looks... good."

The captain sighed. Loudly. He goes into the next room for a moment before coming back with a rather bland coat.

"Look, depends on how much fuel you want. And put this on or else he's not gonna get any work done."

The captain turns to the crew member with a stern voice.

"And you, you're on EVA maintenance duty, get out and clean the solar panels."

Compilatron

HMS-Hood "Ah, that 'splains a lot. This here's "Trade Platform Georgia". We're a li'l trading station. Only the 4 of us on deck... and that chick down in the hanger who's gone crazy. Talk'n about fighting cruisers with noth'n but a skin suit."

"Lucky we found you at all, it's a big universe and you could've very well never even seen another life form. Funny that..."

Dumb

Compilatron "Hmm..." Dasha reluctantly accept the coat, while deeply confused why the crew is acting like this. After a moment of deep thinking and completely neglecting what the captain is speaking, she take off the coat once again, and snapped her index finger. Instantly the skin-tight suit turns into a formal...suit, with ties, black clothes and black leggings like she became a business accountant all of a sudden "Is this better?"

HMS-Hood

Compilatron ah I see, yeah that is true and I'm happy to be seeing you right now, again thank you for that, also what did you say about a "crazy lady"?

Compilatron

HMS-Hood "There's a chick in the hanger we found floating in dead space with nothing but a skinsuit protect'n her. Don't ask me how the hell she's alive. Cap'n's talkin' to her now. Y' can take a look if you like." (ping Dumb if you go down to see it).

"Anyway, I'm going to the command deck, if you want company, come up this way."

He heads upstairs.

HMS-Hood

Compilatron sure I've seen and heard some crazy crap, even orders to charge a battleship in that rinky-dink fighter but this is new

@Dumb a man in bloodied flight fatigues limps up to the cargo bay and screams back to the man who gave him the tea, yeah, you were right this craps crazy

Compilatron

Dumb The captain shakes his head in bewilderment "Who. In the fucking hell. Are you."

HMS-Hood

Compilatron good question the man says who in hell are you (towards the crazy lady)

Dumb

Compilatron "Ahh...forgot to introduce myself, I'm Dasha, the current owner of the Forge of Babel. This is just the usual look when im engaged in trading with a customer, so thats why it looks a bit business-y" she produce a card out of thin air, and hand it to the captain "If you wish to create any equipments aimed for a specific target or just want to make yourself safer in this galaxy, feel free to contact us"

HMS-Hood "As for you..." Dasha slowly scanned the pilot's looks, before shrugging and produce another card and hand it to the pilot "......might as well"

Compilatron

HMS-Hood (Can you start using quote marks? It's hard to read your sentences)

HMS-Hood

Dumb "thanks?"

Compilatron

Dumb "I see... you... hmm..."

"How much fuel or booze would it take to get me and the boys some upgraded personal defence weapons?"

He unholstered his pistol and spun it around his finger.

"These pea shooters barely break skin."

The other crew member takes a good look at the card. He might have plans...

HMS-Hood

Compilatron ((yeah sorry))