Seymour's meeting

The utterly disgusting event on the Promenade proved many things to me, one being that I was surrounded by idiots and that I've lost all hope of these buffoons ever finding a way back to Earth, and secondly that my brand new shower works extremely well at removing holographic Gentleman relish. Of course I was not happy about Mr Pancake's stunt, and have not only burned a very decent suit, but have jettisoned it towards the closest flaming star which I hope I never return to.

My new apartment had disabled access, which was extremely helpful as the chintsy coving in my last apartment had gotten scuffed by my wheelchair around the door jambs. In our weekly meeting I was surprised to find the other crewmembers unenthusiastic about my plans for decorating my new apartment, and none of the ungrateful rapscallions volunteered to help me put up the new wallpaper. But I can only surmise that they're excited about the interior design of their own living spaces. Some of them must have even finished early, as I heard them heading down to Parrotts bar last night.

So the weekly meeting was met with my usual resistance. Determined to bring normality back to everyone's lives with rules and regulations, I started spelling out the revised list of where we can and cannot go onboard the ship. The Huzards were making it difficult to travel anywhere beyond the Promenade, and the lower decks were still inhabited by the Faeces monsters, although we'd pushed them back (or should that be flushed? I'm hilarious!) to the very bottom decks where they shouldn't be a problem to anyone.

The problem of our STCP prisoners was still looming, and I'd asked Mr Chrysler to sort this out personally. I wasn't sure if we should welcome these people aboard, as they were skilled military-trained trained professionals, and we didn't have many of those around here. I'd considered giving them quarters, but the crew apartments were still too few, as most were still in the quarantine zone.

However a larger problem presented itself when the emergency siren almost startled me out of my wheelchair. I looked around the meeting room in confusion, and Holly appeared on the wall monitor. The senile digital Gent informed us that there was an Eniram scout ship approaching, most likely it was the same team of fishy excavators we'd encountered on the water planet. They had excavated the Archiver's portal, which we'd used to escape to the Archivers ship, the portal closing immediately afterwards. The Eniram still seemed to be curious about our religious friends, at the time I wasn't sure why, but much later found out they simply wanted to steal their advanced technology.

“It's only a scout ship, our exterior turrets should be able to take care of it.” Said Mr Chrysler.
“True mate, but there's one minor flaw.” Said Holly. “The turrets haven't worked in 3 million years, they're rusted in place.”

In my minds eye, I imagined the turrets that lined the exterior of our ship standing motionless like the tall rusting artillery batteries of WWII. Unused in so long, until the time we need them again.
“Someone should go on a spacewalk and give them some oil.” I contributed. Admittedly I didn't have a clue about the mechanics and maintenance of space-facing turrets, but I assumed WD-40 would be involved somewhere.

This however got me a few nasty looks from the Engineers in the room, I appeared to have oversimplified the problem. “Why don't you do it?” said Alex. A stupid question, because the word 'spacewalk' implies the need for legs, and I doubted my wheelchair would grip me to the hull and stop me from floating out into space.

After the Engineers left to fix the problem, I had a brief chat with Mr Febuggure about the Archivers, whose Cathedral ship was still parked next to the Blue Dwarf, and they had been following us ever since we came back onboard.
“Not that I don't jolly well enjoy the presence of your... ecclesiastical friends, but they seem to have caused us a few spots of bother recently. I wondered if it would be time for them to... oh, you know... say toodle pip?”

<OOC – Would Justin, Gomez and Alex (and anyone else) please unrust the defensive turrets before the Eniram ship gets here? Phil are the Archivers goingto stay or leave? >