driftfleet | video;

Who: Indiana Jones and cool people
Broadcast: Fleet-wide, from inside the Marsiva.
Action: Any other newcomers on the big'un
When: Now.

[Thanks to his prior conversation with one Peggy Carter, Indiana has at least a slight grasp on the situation. Now that he does, there's nothing for it but to make contact with his fellow 'passengers'. After all, there might be some slim chance he'll encounter someone he knows. Failing that, answers will do just as well.]

I've seen a lot of spooky and strange things in my time, but a fleet drifting through space is a first. [Though he's reminded of that 'job' in Roswell only a few months ago. Hardly a pleasant memory.] My name is Indiana Jones, I'm a Professor of Archaeology -- not that there's much call for it up here. I'll take any volunteers eager to fill me in on the situation.

[He stares at the communicator a bit longer, scratches at his stubbled chin, and decides to ask the inevitable.]

Just tell me it's not the Soviets. [Because dammit, he's retired from the spy business.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ A professor? This fleet has had more luck than she herself is used to on ships - Plenty of inventors and engineers, in truth, but few academics riding the winds into likely laser-fuelled annihilation.

Kidnapping is becoming more educational than ever she dreamed. Marhi stands on the video 5'2, blue skinned and cat-eared. ]

I am a Scholar, myself. But I do not know of these 'Soviets'.

[Well. She's definitely not from anywhere he's been. For all the strange things that Indy has seen, gray cat people certainly ranks among the less lethal.]

The Soviet Union. Communists. Joseph Stalin. Not ringing any bells yet?

I know naught of them; I do not doubt it is a difference of times, or worlds.

[ She assumes either when she knows nothing of a subject, and the latter far more readily than anything else. All these Humes without a tail to call their own. ]

Are these "Communists" dangerous?

Tedious. [He's not going to start throwing around political ideologies just now. He remembered a time when he had some really good friends who saw Lenin as a savior. But that was a lifetime ago and apparently, worlds away.]

You're obviously not from my neck of the woods. Who are you? [What are you?]

Marhi Ohsi, or Metallic Gold Magpie. You may call me whichever pleases. Yourself?

[The name sounds Indian to him, though the dialect doesn't fit. Nor does much of anything else.]

Call me Indy. Mind if I ask where you're from?

Well met, Indy. I am of Shroud birth, and travel much - of late I have dwelt in Ishgard, but my house remains in the Goblet of Ul'dah.

[It's like some space opera gone terribly awry. The names don't even have meaning. Were she not a real living person, he might call it bunk. Hell, he was tempted to do so anyway.]

Can't say I've ever been there. I'm from New Jersey.

I have never been to the land of New Jersey.

[ She's well-familiar with other worlds. It gives her little pause to learn of a new place. ]

I imagine, then, that we are of two worlds.

Seems the likely conclusion. Are there more of your people here?

[Coolly. She might be a gray cat person, but he's not forgotten his sense of diplomacy. This is a new culture he's dealing with, after all.]

Miah Lanbatal is my boon companion, though we are not of the same tribe.

[ She pronounces the H as an aitch, the same as those in her own name. The accent laid clear. ]

There are many of your people here, unless my eyes deceive me.

Some, maybe. I can't be certain they're my people just yet.

[And certainly not his boon companions.]

Indeed so. I will pray to the Twelve that you find easy berth with whichever crew you land.

Any chance I get a choice in the matter?

I know not. I would not cease to struggle against my unhappiness were my crew unworthy or unkind, but I have yet to find if captaincy or new berth can be taken by arms of war.

[ She is perfectly willing to beat the competency and kindness into a crew if necessary. ]

Would that I had some arms of war. They took mine.

[They could have at least left him his pocket knife.]

I suffered the same. I am bereft of all but my fists.

Looks like I'll have to make do.

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