Rodger Wilcon

Wilcon bounces up behind Vaj, snaps his hands down on VAj’s shoulders, and says in a slightly slurred manner with a strong aroma of alcohol, Hey Vaj, watcha doin?

Spaceflight Regulative Administration Flight Plan Request:

Ship Name: Automated Research Vessel A1-01
IFF Code: 7421.3584
IFF Identity: Automated Research Vessel / A101
Comms Frequency: 1856.3956

Origin: Unknown
Destination: Unknown
Flight Distance: Unknown
Flight Time: Indefinite
Ship Clearances: TSN Contracted Research, Level 1

Crew:…[Read more]

// Plus a bit more background, and the explanation for why Wilcon never really appears on any of the ships is basically he’s locked in the brig for the entire story-line, automated feeder and all, and nobody finds him and lets him out.

Wilcon walks into the bar holding a cold pack to his temple, which was kicked by a Skaraan while clearing the lower decks, and sits at the bar.

Hooves, why do they have to have hooves.

I can give them back if you want.
Implying regurgitating the capsule he just swallowed.

Wilcon begrudgingly pulls a small bottle of capsules out of his pocket and tosses one into his mouth, swallowing it down with a mouth of water

I was in the medbay earlier this morning. They’ve started doubling physical and psyche checkups, increased stress, overworking, etc.

I have got to say, I would be surprised if there is anything meaningful left of the Sabre, exploding panels, cascading overloads, and that’s only what I saw running to the pods. We were taking fire from maybe 20… 30 different ships, as well as multiple groups of drones and fighters.

Wilcon frustratedly huffs and runs his fingers through his hair.

Water is the best way to get rid of excess melatonin, other drugs don’t tend to work as well for me, and coffee just tastes horrible.

Another long sip of water.

Wilcon glances, head lolling over his shoulder, at Vaj and slowly walks over to where Vaj and Turnez are sitting, sits down, and takes a long sip of water.

OK, ‘morning, hi.

Wilcon stumbles into the bar with a headache and sleep deprivation from the previous sleepless night, and sits down at the end of the bar, pondering over old station and machinery manuals.

Orange juice please… scratch that, water.

@Admin, would you please delete this topic? I’m planning on setting up another topic.