Sunshine and a Leakin' Bag

[Kontrazec (Somni)]

"Log, entry two seven two: Day three hundred and seventeen. Today's prank was a total killer. A simple enough thing, isolating Anderson's quarters in the ship's systems, altering course to make a few rocks push through the shield and bump against the armour; I did not, however, expect the savage to go charging through the door like a gorram bull. I think he bent my nose a bit to the right with that door..." A pause is heard. "Was totally worth it, though. The traffic today was slow; Passing through the blockades unseen was refreshingly easy. Work flowed easily, except some people were lazy nimrods and refused to handle the turret grid because, allegedly, three and seven are 'out of alignment'. Luckily, we didn't run into any trigger happy pirates. Sensitive nerves, the twins... Should've never let them discover coffee. Speaking of which, Kamura had another narcolepsy attack, right in the middle of the bridge. Fell asleep in the captain's chair- I would've normally laughed when the captain tipped him out and onto the floor, but I kind of understand where he's coming from. I'm still having problems finding good coffee; I don't feel like kissing the LSF's rears for a dozen cups a month. Maybe experimenting with synthetic caffeine will pick up the crew's morale... Or kill them all by overdose in two days. Calculations are needed to properly assume the final result there, I am certain. Coffeecoffeecoffee- Wait, oh crap, this thing's still on?"

Sand leaned back in his chair behind the communications panel, the grid before him loaded with an entire wealth of monitors, tracking all manner of public and... not so public announcements, news and transmissions going on. His eyes, silver in colour, scanned rapidly over the scanners, their pupils narrowing and dilating individually, each tracking information from their own direction- On closer view, his eyes were anything but natural; Complicated arrays of micromechanisms, refractive systems and neurostimulators formed the implants he'd had for years now; They never had failed him. At the same time, a steady dozen or so streams of information flowed through his earpiece, another implant along the side of his skull and reaching through to the ear served as a neurally controlled earpiece and recording device, always making the young man's voice sound huskier over the comm systems, in truth being quite mild and androgynous-sounding. He constantly listened to about a dozen streams of voice in his head at all times, his mind prepared to flick to particular channels for focus whenever he heard one of an assortment of key words; Years of practice have allowed the young rigger to divide and hone his attention in order to be an extremely effective communications and remote control officer- A self-imposed spot on the ship, to boot. Folding his hands behind the back of his head, he reclined in his chair, closing his eyes; Instead of darkness, a heads up display covered the inside of his eyelids, making them glow eerily blue from the outside- This always unnerved many of the other crewmembers, causing immeasurable amounts of joy with the youngling- He was probably the only junior officer noone liked to mess with, especially considering his grand relations with the captain, the only person able to restrain him.

The young rigger was snapped out of his daydreaming, realizing he'd let himself play out an entire series of events in his mind, making him groan quietly. "Why can't I daydream about boobs or something normal, like everyone else?", he wondered out loud, leaning forward in his chair again and curiously enough getting a response. "That's because you're a speshul kind of messed up in the head, Sand!", a feminine voice cooed out behind him, making the silver-haired male spin around in his recliner and narrow his eyes at a pair of jumpsuited females standing in front of him, either of the two looking uncannily like the other- Quite obviously twins. They both burst into giggles, high-fiving one another without even looking before they both turned around and paced away, leaving the male scrambling for a response; "At least I can work with a barrel that isn't three degrees to the right! Wait, damnit, no-" He tossed his hands up in the air and groaned in frustration as another barrage of giggles came from the hallway the twins had stalked into. He then turned, ignoring the hyena-like chuckle coming from the kitchen and staring grumpily into his monitors again. Everyone got touchy and messy without coffee.

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Sucks to be a weight on the wrong side of the brilliance-insanity scale.