The Jaime Retief was responding... snippishly, I guess. I'm not sure how alive things become when you use handwavium, but I suspect that it's more than I'd be comfortable with had I a solid answer. And she was feeling neglected after being left parked while I tried to enjoy the Convention and forget, temporarily, the problem that had been dropped onto my lap.
I don't know why everyone seems to assume that I'm in anyway responsible. Not trustworthy, but responsible. For everything. Feh.
In any event, Jaime was twitchy as I cam up on the calculated orbit I was tracking and flipped the switch that signalled for one of my other prides and joys to respond. You know how possessive Mal Reynolds is of Serenity? That's how I feel about the good ship Saint Bernard. I don't get that way about Jaime 'cause I know that she's a tough girl and can, in a pinch, take care of herself; and the as yet unnamed 1969 Dodge Charger hadn't got any noticable character traits yet. There's something more delicate about the Saint Bernard though, perhaps because she's older.
She's sure larger and as she responded to my ping and let me know where she was, her skin shifted from matte black to mirror silver, the big retro nose windows all lit up and the propellers began to spin welcomingly (I've no idea why they do that, but it's sort of like a dog wagging it's tail). It can be kind of hard to find something as small as a ship in the big empty spaces of the Solar System, but I'd just about nailed it this time, less than a mile ahead of her.
She'd started life as a C-97 Stratofreighter built shortly after WWII and I'd found her in the USAAF's boneyard in Arizona while I was negotiating a little deal with them and I put my cut out of the first dozen or so purchases from them into buying her. It took about that much again to get her spaceworthy - you have no idea how much handwavium and assorted equipment it takes to set up something over thirty metres long for space travel and I wound up calling in a couple of markers for her to be lifted into orbit since I wasn't even going to try getting her up out of the atmosphere on the engines I'd kludged together - I'd not try it today, even after rebuilding them two or three times each.
Another signal opened up her rear doors and I piloted the Jaime into the lower deck, hovering over the deck for a moment while the doors closed and then settling gently into the clamps that would keep her from shifting while the gravity dialled up.D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
I don't know why everyone seems to assume that I'm in anyway responsible. Not trustworthy, but responsible. For everything. Feh.
In any event, Jaime was twitchy as I cam up on the calculated orbit I was tracking and flipped the switch that signalled for one of my other prides and joys to respond. You know how possessive Mal Reynolds is of Serenity? That's how I feel about the good ship Saint Bernard. I don't get that way about Jaime 'cause I know that she's a tough girl and can, in a pinch, take care of herself; and the as yet unnamed 1969 Dodge Charger hadn't got any noticable character traits yet. There's something more delicate about the Saint Bernard though, perhaps because she's older.
She's sure larger and as she responded to my ping and let me know where she was, her skin shifted from matte black to mirror silver, the big retro nose windows all lit up and the propellers began to spin welcomingly (I've no idea why they do that, but it's sort of like a dog wagging it's tail). It can be kind of hard to find something as small as a ship in the big empty spaces of the Solar System, but I'd just about nailed it this time, less than a mile ahead of her.
She'd started life as a C-97 Stratofreighter built shortly after WWII and I'd found her in the USAAF's boneyard in Arizona while I was negotiating a little deal with them and I put my cut out of the first dozen or so purchases from them into buying her. It took about that much again to get her spaceworthy - you have no idea how much handwavium and assorted equipment it takes to set up something over thirty metres long for space travel and I wound up calling in a couple of markers for her to be lifted into orbit since I wasn't even going to try getting her up out of the atmosphere on the engines I'd kludged together - I'd not try it today, even after rebuilding them two or three times each.
Another signal opened up her rear doors and I piloted the Jaime into the lower deck, hovering over the deck for a moment while the doors closed and then settling gently into the clamps that would keep her from shifting while the gravity dialled up.D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.
D for Drakensis
You're only young once, but immaturity is forever.