Chain Of Command

Posted on Mon Apr 6th, 2020 @ 9:11pm by Commanding Officer Mickey Serendipity & Executive Officer Kenneth McTigue

Mission: Port In A Storm
Location: Metronome, Vallis Marineris, MCR
Timeline: Just After 'Parachutes?'

"Okay folks, and Alex, tram stations down there. Take your time, get down there and we'll head on to where we need to be." Mickey gestured down the main drag of the terrace, through the throngs of Upper University students enjoying their free time. As he did so the little bubble of calm marking the location of a pair of Metronome City Police officer's making their patrol was clear enough to see. "Act casual, don't get picked up and we'll be good as gone soon enough."

He tapped Ken on the arm, and nodded across the way to a food cart selling real beef tacos. Though anything that had to sell itself as 'real' anything always carried something of a question mark.

"So do you want to speak your piece," Mickey asked as they joined the line to the cart. "My treat."

"I think we need to decide a couple things now that the captain is dead. Part of that is how we're taking on new crew, because you can't make those decisions unilaterally Mick." Ken said as his eyes studied the menu. "And we need to decide if we're going to split Soto's share between us, or if we're going to bring in another owner." The line moved forward slowly as people got their food.

"Way things have been going, we've not really had a chance to hash that out have we?" Mickey said. "But we need a medic. Collected together with all of the training the crew has we can bumble our way through a first aid kit, and the AutoDoc easy enough to use. But I'd be lying if I said having someone who knows what all the goop in there does isn't settling a few nerves. Especially which where we're going next."

The line move forward a few more steps.

"Look, you're right, I should have keyed you into the fact the hire was happening. Call it getting used to the new dynamic we have, Soto kept things from becoming a deadlock," Mickey stroked his chin. "I have a proposal for you. I take on Soto's share, you take on mine, your's goes to Allegra."

"I'm not denying I'm happy that we've got another medic, though did it have to be another Martian?" Ken half-joked. "But did you even have the time to vet this guy? We took on Kol and we barely know him." There were only two people before them in line. "Speaking of Kol, and this Alex guy. They're not keeping their weapons when we get back on the Tross."

The smell of seasoned cow protein made Ken's stomach grumble audibly. "Does Allegra even have the credits to buy into the ship? I'm not sure I'd want to add someone into our decision-making process."

"Soto, me and you, we made a triumvirate: no deadlocks, no 50/50 splits on decision making. That doesn't work so well when we have two people from very different backgrounds, and we're not running the 'Tross like a military ship. If you're really set against the idea, I'm willing to run with just the two of us for the time being, see how it lies on the burn out to wherever this job takes us. We can speak to Allegra privately, feel her out if she wants to buy in," Mickey was eyeing the menu now, patting his pocket in time with some melody in his head. "And no, the rule still applies from before: guns get stowed and locked unless we need to use them. Never needed a piece to change out an air filter, don't see that changing any time soon."

The line cleared, and then the vendor smiled and asked them for their selection. Mickey ordered a beef wrap with hot sauce.

"Can I get a spicy beef and veggie wrap?" Ken ordered at the window. "You're right, we can't do a 50/50 split. We could ask both Wulf and Allegra. I know they're both coming from wealthy families, could even have my 30 percent split between them. It might also be a good idea if I take some of the XO duties."

"You want the slot, it's yours. Can't say I wanted to step up the way things panned out, but I appreciate you stepping in to fill the void," Mickey handed over some chits to the vendor, and two wraps in animated foil were handed over. "Having both Allegra and Wulf take the share makes sense, but one of them needs to take priority over the other. Command choices fall to you and me, but the ones involving the ship's future we need to make sure aren't bogged down in a four-way tie."

"As engineer I can't speak to you in the same way as I can as XO, at least not with regards to the crew." Ken answered before taking a big bite out of the taco. "We can always offer Allegra and Wulf each ten, and keep the last ten for a fifth crewmember." He then suggested."But what I'm worried about, with having anyone buy into the ship, is that if they want to leave, they'll sell the shares to someone outside of the crew. You, me, and Soto bought into this ship with long term plans, but the crew didn't sign on for that same kind of commitment. So we'd need language in a contract that they can only sell it back to us."

"Language like that'll take a lawyer, know any of those going cheap?" Mickey asked, as he tore open the foil and began to tuck into his wrap. It was meaty, and the hot sauce had the eye-watering quality that was essential in Mickey's book for good food. "We run as CO/XO you and I, until we reach where ever this train ends. By then we'll have enough in the shared account to keep the Tross going to the next job, then we can begin to figure out what we need to do. Rather not have the conversation in the middle of a Martian Mardigra."

He tossed the used up wrapped into a roving uniwheel garbage drone, which beeped delightedly.

"Last time we sat down across a table from a McGulluagh, it was his old man we were dealing. The older brother I can get a bead on, but Jerry the younger..." Mickey clicked his tongue behind his teeth.

"Old man was straight with us. Well, as straight as people like the McGullaghs come. Jerry however, last time we were in Metronome I got a couple beers around the corner from their place. There was a story going the rounds that Jerry had a couple girls behind a locked door, and not to refurbish the air recyclers. Nasty shit, or so the story goes."

"Well there's a reason the saying is 'Mad Dog Irish'," Mickey began to lead them back to the crew. "Not like we have a loaded deck of options and we're just picking the shitty one. But we keep things civil, ignore the foaming at the mouth psychopath behind the older brother, it'll just be like last time."

"Careful Mick, I'm Irish too." Ken said with a chuckle, tossing his wrapper in front of the sweeper. "I'd like to go back to the 'Tross and grab my suit before going to see them. But with the gear we got, I feel a little more confident about keeping you lot save."

"I hear that," Mickey said with a sigh.