001

[openhands]

Who: Cassandra Pentaghast & YOU!!
Broadcast: Fleet-wide
Action: SS Marsiva
When: week of April 12-18

[When Cassandra wakes, she goes from sound asleep to alert in just a matter of a couple of seconds. She's out of bed immediately with a reflexive reach for weapons that aren't there. Naturally, this merits a frustrated growl, but no matter. She doesn't need a sword or shield to do some damage if she must to get out of...wherever this place is.]

[She scans the room with a little more scrutiny with a scowl before she notices the communicator and picks it up. Enjoy your new view of the ceiling, network, while she looks the device over in her hands because she doesn't understand why she has some vague sense of familiarity with it without ever having seen it before in her life. It's at least something to take her mind off the fact she has absolutely no idea how she got here in the first place.]

What is this?

[Answer her before books start getting stabbed, you guys.]

Comments

[deshabille]

Because you're gathering information. Aren't you?

[openhands]

Ugh, fine. [She can't believe she's even remotely beginning to entertain this. But somehow the alternative seems more infuriating.] What is that you do?

[deshabille]

I maintain my ship. Make sure everything is working up to code - whatever the code is - that we keep moving forward, and that nothing blows up. I'd recommend you find your engineer and be very respectful of him.

[Except she isn't actually sure Cassandra knows how to be respectful (which is in itself hilarious).]

[openhands]

If he knows as little as you do, I cannot see why he would be deserving of my respect.

[You don't even know the code, Mal. Confidence is not inspired.]

[deshabille]

Do you want to die?

[openhands]

Somehow, I doubt that will have any impact on my survival with a fool.

[deshabille]

Well, someone has to keep all the pieces from falling off your ship.

[openhands]

And you cannot see why I would prefer someone with more skill?

[deshabille]

Not really, no. I'm incredibly skilled.

[openhands]

At...?

[Because she can't imagine it's anything useful or pertinent to the current conversation.]

[deshabille]

I would say engineering, but that doesn't really count. That knowledge was a gift, and one with strings attached, so no. I won't count it.

I'm good at many things, madam, but primarily knowing what people are thinking. Reading people, as it were.

[openhands]

That's hardly an impressive skill when you have the ability to irritate every person that comes into contact with you.

[deshabille]

Makes my accuracy levels astounding, though.

[Winning grin!!]

[openhands]

[Punchable grin!!* ftfy]

And yet, I'm still not impressed.

[deshabille]

You will be.

[openhands]

[No, she's not going in circles with you about this, Mal. She's not falling into this trap.]

Who are you?

[So she can avoid the shit out of you!!!]

[deshabille]

Corporal Maladict. Do I get a name out of you, too?

[openhands]

[As tempted as she might be to refuse, she decides (against her better judgment) to provide one.]

Seeker Cassandra Pentaghast.

[deshabille]

And what does a Seeker do?

[openhands]

A Seeker is a warrior of truth. We are meant to root out abuse and corruption within the Chantry and bring those responsible to justice.

[deshabille]

[Mal doesn't say anything immediately to that. Just nods, and smiles a little, and absorbs the information.]

[She's quite pleased. She loves meeting interesting, dedicated people and making their lives difficult.]

The pleasure's all mine, then, Seeker Pentaghast. You have a lovely day.

[. . . and she hangs up. :>]