**Action: Stranded - Part I**

Mk.10's large, sweeping eye flickered to life, as he picked himself up
from the floor of his small room in the ship's security centre. Truth
be told, it was more of a storage locker, but it was home.
"Christy. My primary CPU input regulator is killing me."
Stepping out through the small door in his locker – ok, it's more of
an oversized cat flap – he swaggered over to the main security
console, and brought up the recent logs.
"Ok, so, the ship-wide riots and mutiny have been quelled due to
restoration of alcohol stores. S'pose Severn'll be in Parrotts. He can
handle replacing a little regulator, no matter how much he's had."
With that, the droid slid off the chair sat in front of the console,
and trotted off towards the promenade.
By this stage, the festivities were well underway. The crew hadn't
really had much of a new-years party, what with the strike and lack of
O2, and were thrilled at the idea of now being able to get totally
shitfaced, and going to work the next day severely hung-over.
Mk.10 weaved his way through the crowd, and eventually found Jay's
table, at which were also sat Chris, Phil, and a few other regulars.
"Sup guys? Seen Severn anywhere? I need a bit of work done."
"Sorry, can't help ya there." Said Jay, looking to Phil who responded
with a shake of his head.
Chris shifted uncomfortably in his seat for a moment before piping up.
"Yeah, during the rioting he was...incinerated."
Everyone at the table sat in quiet contemplation for a moment.
"How'd you get incinerated in a riot?" asked Phil
"They got the info about the hip flasks from him. Musta disposed of
him afterwards, the pricks." said Jay
"Yeah, bastards hoisted him up next to a Starbug engine." muttered
Chris into his beer
"You're damned lucky I managed to get to you in time, Jay. Not to
mention I'd have three enraged and quite probably armed women to
contend with."
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Meanwhile, things were not nearly as festive in the security centre's
detention cells. Boris Vasquez and several of his flunkies were sat up
against the plain, grey wall, contemplating their predicament. Whilst
Boris had never planned any of this, he was by nature a very organised
and above all, prepared, man. Waiting for the security guards to look
away, he pulled out a small communicator, which was answered on the
other end by one of the Drive Room crew.
"I'm gonna have the run of this ship one way or the other – initiate
the plan."
The Drive Room operator looked over to a few of his comrades, and they
nodded subtly between each other, before responding.
"Roger that, we'll spin up the device in preparation."
OOC: Action split in half to reduce reader fatigue.