Tri'sea's

Rpg:
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Who: Roskev, Trisees, Crew.
When: Abouts it.
Where: The Ship.
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There was a crackle from a loud speker:
"Could Ms Roskev please enter the really deadly area of gas type
stuff with pointy walls and random flames where all the ship's major
circuitry is stored. The wire for the videogame has broken again and
it needs to be fixed."
Roskev began mumbling.
"What kind of engineering idiots store all the ship's major
cicruits in an area of death?"
"That's the JMC for you," muttered Trisees.
"Alright, look, Trisees," began Roskev, diverting her attention to
him again. "Come back later. Or, I might just see you in the medibay
later, if things go a little kumquat shaped."
"Whatever, I still want things now," he demanded.
"You'll get them later. Don't piss me off in my department,"
warned Roskev.
Trisees frowned, Roskev merely pointed to the doors and raised her
eyebrows.
"Go," she said.
He sighed annoyedly and walked from the department.
-----------------------------snip-------------------------------------
Larry Trisees was looking out of the window feeling very glum, the
sight of the swirling gasses and floating asteroids weren't stopping
him for being miserable much, but nothing else seemed to have helped.
He couldn't even be happy abput this, he wanted to see black space
with twinkly stars but no-such look. Sector 27 Gamma had too many
thick nabulas and asteroids to see any hint of black in space. Apart
from that one black section that looked like a giant spider. No, he
was wrong- two giant spiders. They were getting bigger too.
Suddenly Trisees realised that they were two objects coming towards
him, towards the Blue Dwarf. What was he to do? Raise the alarm?
Break something?
He saw a fire sprinkler on the ceiling above him. `Aha, setting that
off will cause an alarm." He thought. Sh he picked up a computer and
smashed it on the ground causing a small electrical fire to start
burning away at the carpet. Then he took a pillow case from the
nearest bed in sickbay and waved it over the flames until it caught
fire, then waved the flaming pillowcase above his head to set off the
sprinkler. The sprinklers came on, spraying water everywhere but the
fire alarm didn't go off.
"Oh great." He thought. "I'm wet and for what reason? None!"
Then a blast knocked him to his knees, the ground shook violently for
a second then stopped. He got up again and another shake knocked him
to the ground, the lights flickered and then went to half-power.
---------------------------end snip-----------------------------------
Trisees body lay still, and after a while he awoke, gowling loudly,
and unaware of anything that had happened during the previous few
minutes.
"Why does this ship TAUNT me so?" he asked the air, getting up for
a second time. He rubbed his back and head, and walked over to the
desk, before picking up an anaesthetic and injecting it in him.
"That should stop the pain," he said to no one in
particular. "Now, to go and complain to the fool flying this metal
deathtrap."
He frowned when he realised that the ship wasn't level like it
usually was, but soemhow was tilted.
"I'll bet Chrysler's been at the alcohol again," he muttered,
adjusting himself to the new angle.
Trisees entered the drive room and looked about for a pilot. When
there was no one at all in the drive room, his level of confidence
dipped slightly. Looking out one of the windows to see a large
liquid type of area surrounding the ship, caused the levels to dip
much further. The greatest dip came when Trisees realised that a lot
of the back end of the ship was UNDER said expanse of water.
"This looks extraordinarily bad," he told himself.
"Important people to the briefing room now," he heard Niples voice
over the main intercom. Trisees sighed and decided that even if he
wasn't an important person now, he had been, and strode off to the
meeting room.
Trisees sat at the back of the briefing room, alone and looking
peeved. Captain Niples and the rest of the important people were
sitting in a summit type set up, with him standing at the front
whilst the crew members formed a semi circle in frotn of him.
Niples explained the situation to the group.
--------------------------------Snip----------------------------------
"So we're on an unknown planet. In an unknown part of the universe…
that is assuming we're still in the same universe and also not in a
parallel dimension…. And we're sinking. So has anyone got any
suggestions?"
----------------------------- End Snip--------------------------------
--------------------------------Snip----------------------------------
Cerebrum raised his hand. "Even though I'm a psychiatrist, and not
studied in nuclear physics and rocketry, it seems to me that even if
we do get the ship floating, we'll never be able to get it out of the
atmosphere with our own engines. But fortunately, my insanity allows
me to think up of different options that sane people wouldn't even
consider. I propose that the engineering department construct a great
big shield made out of neutronium, rendering it indestructible, that
we attach to the underside of the ship. That we detonate fifty
nuclear bombs at the same time under the shield, which will shoot the
ship right into orbit. It might be bad for the land value of the
surrounding region, but I'm sure that nobody here owns real estate on
this planet. So the only other problem is that it would irreversibly
irradiate most of the water on the planet, cause a nuclear winter on
the planet, contaminate most of the atmosphere and kill ninety-five
percent of all living things on the planet. But since we don't know
anybody on the planet, there are no problems there either."
------------------------------End Snip--------------------------------
Niples nodded.
"Okay, Mr Cerebrum. That's a very...imaginative way to solve the
situation. Any other ideas?"
Trisees scoffed at Cerebrum and raised his hand.
"I got one, Naples," he said.
"Ah," said Niples with disdain. "The illustrious Lawrence
Trisees. What is this superlative idea of yours?"
"Well, I see two ways of saving this immobile scrap pile.
1) We take the psychiatrist here, tie him to a balloon and let him
talk all the hot air out of his system so that it lifts the ship up,
and after that performance, believe you and me, we got enough air to
break out of orbit."
"And the second?" asked Niples, obviously unimpressed.
"The second is simple. fly boy over there," Trisees pointed to
Chrysler "Gets out and pushes after he did *such* a wondeful job of
flying this crate. Hell, we might as well give him a medal for such
sterling piloting!"
"Very constructive, Trisees," said Niples, beginning to lose
patience.
"Hey, I don't make the ideas, I'm merely a vessel, a conduit for
the brilliance handed down to me by the gods," said Trisees, smiling
and leaning back in his chair, hands behind his head, despite the
scowls from the rest of the audience.
He wondered how far he'd gone this time.
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