Entrance Post
Kyuzo follows Maya through the gate, but not onto the arrival deck of the Konstantinov.
He's looking over Maya's right shoulder at a brick wall with "EDEN" scrawled across it. The only way they could have gotten here instead of the gate deck is through a bad kasting, but Maya never mis-kasts. "Get down!" Kyuzo pushes Maya back toward the wall and spins around, looking for threats. His weathered face is hard and craggy and he's wearing a medium-weight set of combat armor with ceramic plates covering his shoulders, arms above the elbows, and his legs. A dark gray coat fills in the gaps.
Maya stumbles back, dropping her duffle bag and catching her balance against the wall. She is a slim woman of average height, long gray uniform coat wrapped around her and belted at the waist with the collar up; her face is pale and pretty, though twisted with confusion at the moment. She can feel the unnatural warmth of the wall even through her glove and her eyes flash quickly between Kyuzo and the wall. "Shields," she snaps, and the familiar red squares and letters fly up around them. But no threat comes, nothing immediate, and Maya lets the shields drop.
She frowns as she runs the coordinates through her head, the kast; name, rank, skyfurnace, serial number, timecode, protocol, coordinates, destination-- it should have worked. "I don't understand!" She looks around at the street, the buildings, and then back to Kyuzo again, blue eyes narrowed. "I didn't mis-kast."
Kyuzo scowls, "You never mis-kast." He doesn't see any targets, but he draws the short-barreled shotgun from its holster and glances down at the metal rolling case beside him consideringly. "Unknown territory. We should find somewhere to hole up while you contact the Fleet."
Maya nods, pressing her hand flat against the wall again (still warm) but -- she whirls, long blonde braid whipping with the movement. "What was that?"
He's looking over Maya's right shoulder at a brick wall with "EDEN" scrawled across it. The only way they could have gotten here instead of the gate deck is through a bad kasting, but Maya never mis-kasts. "Get down!" Kyuzo pushes Maya back toward the wall and spins around, looking for threats. His weathered face is hard and craggy and he's wearing a medium-weight set of combat armor with ceramic plates covering his shoulders, arms above the elbows, and his legs. A dark gray coat fills in the gaps.
Maya stumbles back, dropping her duffle bag and catching her balance against the wall. She is a slim woman of average height, long gray uniform coat wrapped around her and belted at the waist with the collar up; her face is pale and pretty, though twisted with confusion at the moment. She can feel the unnatural warmth of the wall even through her glove and her eyes flash quickly between Kyuzo and the wall. "Shields," she snaps, and the familiar red squares and letters fly up around them. But no threat comes, nothing immediate, and Maya lets the shields drop.
She frowns as she runs the coordinates through her head, the kast; name, rank, skyfurnace, serial number, timecode, protocol, coordinates, destination-- it should have worked. "I don't understand!" She looks around at the street, the buildings, and then back to Kyuzo again, blue eyes narrowed. "I didn't mis-kast."
Kyuzo scowls, "You never mis-kast." He doesn't see any targets, but he draws the short-barreled shotgun from its holster and glances down at the metal rolling case beside him consideringly. "Unknown territory. We should find somewhere to hole up while you contact the Fleet."
Maya nods, pressing her hand flat against the wall again (still warm) but -- she whirls, long blonde braid whipping with the movement. "What was that?"