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The Ship
THE SHIP
Her name is AN’G XKM’QPRSF’PTB (“Angie”).
The interior looks like it was designed by H.R. Giger and Salvador Dali's bastard lovechild. Everything about her is alive, from the membranous jumpsuits it provides your character to wear, to the eyelid-like blast screens covering the windows, to--frighteningly enough--the toilets. Most things are green, varying from a dark and greyish shade to pale, acid yellows in thinner places.
Your character will get the impression that the walls are skin and tissue, they'll feel the floor pulsing and constricting under their feet, and in some parts of the ship, hot air rushes through the corridors in great sweeping waves, as if the ship is breathing. It's a muggy, stifling atmosphere with few open spaces, and will likely make them feel claustrophobic, as if they're living inside blood vessels or someone's armpit.
The exception, of course, is where she’s been damaged. Big holes have been torn in her, letting in air and sunlight. The flesh of the ship shudders involuntarily under foot if you tread in these painful areas.
THE POD CAVERNS
Characters emerge, naked and covered in translucent slime, from fleshy pods attached to the floor and ceiling by thick, black cords of tissue. Careful examination of each pod will reveal a metal plate embedded near the base of the cords with an identification number on it, but no name. The occupied pods seem to glow faintly with an internal green-yellow light, showing the dormant shadows of figures humanoid and non within. The floor is soft and spongey here and the cavern is very warm and humid. It’s a large space, though the twisting walkways between the pods make it difficult to get a true sense for how many there are. Hundreds, easily.
Angie will explain the situation (albeit poorly) and guide characters to the caverns’ central hub via bioluminescent spots trailing along the floor. Answers to questions are brief and she’s eager to move them all together in order to address them as a group.
Inside the cavern’s hub is a big tube reaching into the ceiling that characters will be encouraged to enter. There is an antigravity field inside, and a tentacle will tug the character up to the main level of the ship and deposit them in the hall near the weapons and possessions lockers.
They can go back down again if they want, but there’s little to do and see in the caverns once you’re awake.
THE CLOTHING ROOM
Before entering the hub, characters are led through the Clothing Room. Greenish-black tendrils hang from the ceiling and will snatch up the naked characters, spinning a formfitting podsuit around their bodies. Most find this alarming, but at least they’re not running around naked anymore. (It’s possible to evade the tentacles if you’re quick and alert, though.)
They’re clothed in what looks like a dark green-blue-black jumpsuit, faintly shiny. Despite being disturbingly plantlike, the material is soft, comfortable, and surprisingly durable. Characters will have difficulty even deliberately tearing them.
The weird part is that the suits are just as alive as the ship around them. Little veins run through them that pulse against the skin, which is going to take some getting used to.
The plantsuits can be removed by tugging a small, clawlike protrusion on the shoulder, but they’re a little finicky to get in and out of with any speed.
They also keep you clean, which is useful but creepy.
THE OBS DECK
The Obs Deck looks out on space, or at least it would if the blast shields that protect the windows weren’t shut and Angie weren’t beached on a strange alien world like an awkward space whale. It was clearly a casual gathering place for the previous crew, given the presence of high-backed chairs that seem to have spines and growths of fatty tissue rising from the floor meant to serve as couches. Some are conveniently beside slender-legged, boney platforms that might possibly be made of tooth enamel. Tables.
On the primary wall is a massive reliefwork, rising 50 feet in the air to the ceiling. It’s a feminine portrait, though formed of the same biomechanical surface as the tougher floors and walls of the ship. She appears to be at rest. For now.
THE MESS HALL
An open room full of long, bony tables with long, bony benches, the mess hall’s cafeteria status is fairly obvious. A large, unblinking eye above the doorway follows characters as they approach. Once it has scanned them, a tray will pop out of a slot in the wall for them to pick up, loaded up with nutritious (though, unfortunately, not delicious) slop calibrated to their unique dietary needs. Even the tray is edible, crunchy and a bit like a dry tortilla.
…That’s how the room is supposed to work, at least. With Angie in her current state, she doesn’t have the resources to feed the crew on a consistent (or frequent) basis yet. They’ll have to find alternate sources of food.
BATHROOMS
Bathrooms are located in convenient places about the ship, chiefly near the mess hall and sleeping area.
Upside-down cup structures hang to one side, just above head height. Standing under them will cause one to reach down and clean the character’s hair and face with a schlupping noise and a brief sucking sensation. Between this and the podsuits, it seems the ship’s builders decided there would be no need for showers.
The toilets bear a strong resemblance to pitcher plants. Several nodules poke out of the wall around each, and touching them will clear the basin and produce a puff of faintly sweet-smelling air from above. There are no sinks, but there are small round pods full of disinfecting liquid for characters’ hands.
Near the doorway there is a smaller version of the eye from the cafeteria. If a character is in need of hydration, the sensor will detect this and a helpful tentacle will shoot out of a wall and inject them with fluids. This stings a bit and is rather alarming the first time (…or if you drift too close without paying attention), but is quick and the needle heals the opening on its way out.
SLEEPING HALLS
Rows of little corridors fill the hall with openings at regular intervals. In each hole is an area big enough for a human being to lay down and sleep, and if someone larger than a human wants to rest there, the chamber actually stretches out to fit them and give them space.
Vents, little holes in the roof of each cubbyhole (that look like nostrils) blow moist, cool air down on your character's face--and it's a necessity. The cubbyholes are so small, they'd feel rather claustrophobic otherwise. Oh, and the walls do throb a little, like the rest of the ship.
Yes, that is the main place for your character to sleep. Yes, it is creepy.
But at least it's warm and soft, and the opening will shrink to keep people from staring in at you. It won’t stop anyone from barging in and shaking you awake, of course, but you can’t have everything can you?
THE OFFICERS’ QUARTERS
There is one other place to sleep, but in rather limited supply. The high ranking members of the previous crew were too good for the common sleeping halls and had their own, less fleshy rooms.
The officers’ quarters are inorganic. The bulkheads are metal, the floors rubberized, the ceilings have lights and not pulsing bioluminescent nodules. But the most important thing is they have more conventional style beds, frequently large enough for more than one occupant, and personal showers. There is still no running water, of course, but a sonic shower in the officers’ quarters is a little closer to home than nothing for many characters.
Also, the doors truly lock to give you (and, possibly, other yous) privacy. Bless technology.
There will usually be more people who want them than available rooms, so expect to have arguments over them and work out a schedule of times when you get the nice beds.
THE BRIDGE
The ship’s command center is above the Obs Deck and accessible through the tube that also leads to the pod caverns. It’s full of exciting blinking lights and buttons that you probably shouldn’t push. On a raised dais in the center is the captain’s chair, which gave them a rotating viewpoint from which to oversee the running of the ship.
The various consoles are mostly not very useful for now, primarily concerned with navigation and flight. The readouts show extensive damage throughout the ship and helpfully point out the biggest holes, as well as the fact that the weapons systems are completely borked and the shielding is on its very last legs.
The ship’s announcement system can be used from the bridge to tell EVERYONE aboard something, if it’s especially important. Even sleeping characters will receive the message through telepathic channels.
THE MEDIA LIBRARY
While life aboard a ship is busy, it’s nice to have something to do in one’s leisure time. The media library houses terminals that can stream audio and video as well as digitized texts. For those inclined, there’s also a collection of video games if one can work out how you’re supposed to play them.
Mushroom-like headphones are provided for your convenience, and the seats here are quite comfortable.
At the center of this room is a large, elaborate structure of crystal. The crystals are carved with millions of microscopic trails and strung with an array of tubes and wires of dubious function. A small plaque at the base identifies it as the “TRANSLATION MATRIX - ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL”. You probably shouldn’t screw around with it.
In the back is a large table with a smooth, dark surface and a number of chairs. It can project 3-dimensional images above it, or flat ones onto the back wall. It would be useful for holding a meeting, perhaps.
Or, you know. Streaming Manos: the Hands of Fate.
THE MEDICAL BAY
Medical can probably save your life, if you know how to use it. It’s full of mushy beds (complete with medical restraints that look like the legs of insects), chitinous healing tanks of sloshy blue liquid, and strange, slightly sinister, and gross-looking equipment. Membranous dividers can rise up from the floor on spindly frames, providing some privacy for patients.
Of particular interest are the scanners that will detect important information about crew members, such as species and blood type, to assist in treating them. Some diseases and injuries can be detected automatically, but unfamiliar pathogens and subtle damage might be missed.
Those with medical training can likely work out what many of these things do and find something close enough to familiar tools, but equipment will only get you so far. Things like replacing lost blood or administering anesthesia just aren’t possible without Angie being able to synthesize needed materials. She needs all the resources she can to fix herself, for the moment.
It’s better than nothing, for now. And hey, perhaps there’s medical information in the library?
THE SENSORIUMS
Near the media library are the sensoriums: three large and seemingly empty chambers. Once activated, however, they serve as the ship’s holodeck. Only better.
The sensoriums create solid objects from virtual particles that exist because you think they do. The ship telepathically suggests this belief, and so they are. It’s very advanced and technological and SCIENCE, rest assured.
The sensoriums can produce detailed simulations (with some limitations for safety) based on a character’s thoughts and instructions, capable of filling in the gaps through extrapolation. Even people can be represented, with temporary AI.
The only thing the sensoriums can’t get right is food, unfortunately. It will never taste anything like it’s supposed to, and like anything else in the sensorium it doesn’t technically exist and you’ll still be hungry afterward.
The left chamber is a bit… off. It seems when Angie crashed, something somewhere connected to this sensorium was damaged. It will work just fine sometimes, sure, but others? Strange graphical bugs will happen, hostile glitches might appear, and who knows what else. Be careful.
WEAPONS & POSSESSIONS LOCKERS
Near the entrance to this room are rows of neat, shiny, chitinous lockers with numbers above them. The very astute will note these correspond to the numbers on pods in the caverns. Those having difficulty finding theirs will be assisted by light trails in the floor, just as below. On each locker is a scanner that, when touched by its owner, will open up.
Characters will find several of their possessions inside their locker. Weapons (nothing larger or more destructive than a rifle), tools, signature pieces of clothing (but no full outfits or huge, dangerous things like powered armor), and personal trinkets are most common.
Past the lockers are long rows stacked with metal crates, many open, and it’s easy to get lost among them. The labeling system is incomprehensible, but the boxes seem to be full of all sorts of goodies. There are some basic weapons (from swords to shotguns) and other immediately useful equipment, but also seemingly random items like musical instruments, chess boards, and fine porcelain vases. Occasional weird and possibly dangerous artifacts turn up here from time to time. These things seem to be free to use, but anything left lying outside a locker will probably be reorganized and disappear after a day or so.
W&P works in mysterious, ineffable ways.
Along the right wall, past the lockers, there is a large doorway labeled…
ARMORY [INACCESSIBLE]
The sphincter-like door to the ship’s armory is currently sealed tight, and Angie is unable to open it due to the pain she’s in. Inside is a neatly catalogued library of the ship’s heavy weaponry. Unfortunately, one needs to know exactly what they’re looking for in order to tell the armory’s computer to find it. Once called, the armory will shuffle its many pods around and push out the requested item, safely sealed in a fleshy case. This is where you’re going to find things like rocket launchers, power suits, and powerful magical items of destruction. Aside from the translucent wall separating the room from the vast stores of pods, the room is fairly featureless aside from a hole descending into…
THE VEHICLE GARAGE [INACCESSIBLE]
Like the armory, this is currently inaccessible due to the damage to the ship.
Motorcycles! Jeeps! Is that a boat? A glider?!
Unfortunately the ship’s not quite big enough to go hauling gigantic battle robots, but Angie has all sorts of moderately-sized ways of getting around that will certainly come in handy. They’re all arranged neatly, ready for fueling (if they need it). Most things in here aren’t sporting significant weaponry (particularly crafty members of the crew could probably fix that), though characters might occasionally locate their signature battlewagon.
In addition to the vehicles, the garage has all sorts of tools to repair, modify, and maintain them. …You’re just going to have to supply your own parts if you want to add shiny new things, though.
ENGINEERING
Engineering is near the center of the ship, and its main room is large and circular, surrounded by organic computer consoles and strange buzzing equipment. Side rooms contain lab tables and well-lit stations where someone could likely get serious work done.
The hole in the center of the floor is about fifty feet in diameter, and surrounded by a railing so no one falls in, as it would be certain death. Ladders and thick conduits lead into it, and safety protocols recommend that you ask for a tentacle-tether if you intend to climb down inside. Below is the shielding and framework that protects the core itself. The hole is filled with glowing yellow-green light and radiates sweltering (though survivable) heat. It's shielded so the radiation levels aren't that bad, but it's probably not a good idea to hang out in the core for long periods.
Wear goggles if you're going to toy around in there, and above all else, don't push any buttons unless you know what you're doing.
Engineering is right next to…
NEUROPATHY
One of the only places on the ship with inorganic equipment, Neuropathy is a control center right next to and part of Engineering that monitors Angie’s neural network--basically where the ship's IT guys once resided. If there's a problem with the ship’s neurological structure, it showed on the readouts on the inorganic consoled (which would have been unaffected by it and have more accurate sensors) and little cars attached to the hanging framework around her massive nerves would send repair crew along her neural pathways to find the damage and fix it. Incidentally, the room is high-risk for hacking due to its direct link to Angie’s “brain”.
One of the stations in Neuropathy appears to have exploded with some violence, probably during the disaster that stranded Angie here.
Her name is AN’G XKM’QPRSF’PTB (“Angie”).
The interior looks like it was designed by H.R. Giger and Salvador Dali's bastard lovechild. Everything about her is alive, from the membranous jumpsuits it provides your character to wear, to the eyelid-like blast screens covering the windows, to--frighteningly enough--the toilets. Most things are green, varying from a dark and greyish shade to pale, acid yellows in thinner places.
Your character will get the impression that the walls are skin and tissue, they'll feel the floor pulsing and constricting under their feet, and in some parts of the ship, hot air rushes through the corridors in great sweeping waves, as if the ship is breathing. It's a muggy, stifling atmosphere with few open spaces, and will likely make them feel claustrophobic, as if they're living inside blood vessels or someone's armpit.
The exception, of course, is where she’s been damaged. Big holes have been torn in her, letting in air and sunlight. The flesh of the ship shudders involuntarily under foot if you tread in these painful areas.
THE POD CAVERNS
Characters emerge, naked and covered in translucent slime, from fleshy pods attached to the floor and ceiling by thick, black cords of tissue. Careful examination of each pod will reveal a metal plate embedded near the base of the cords with an identification number on it, but no name. The occupied pods seem to glow faintly with an internal green-yellow light, showing the dormant shadows of figures humanoid and non within. The floor is soft and spongey here and the cavern is very warm and humid. It’s a large space, though the twisting walkways between the pods make it difficult to get a true sense for how many there are. Hundreds, easily.
Angie will explain the situation (albeit poorly) and guide characters to the caverns’ central hub via bioluminescent spots trailing along the floor. Answers to questions are brief and she’s eager to move them all together in order to address them as a group.
Inside the cavern’s hub is a big tube reaching into the ceiling that characters will be encouraged to enter. There is an antigravity field inside, and a tentacle will tug the character up to the main level of the ship and deposit them in the hall near the weapons and possessions lockers.
They can go back down again if they want, but there’s little to do and see in the caverns once you’re awake.
THE CLOTHING ROOM
Before entering the hub, characters are led through the Clothing Room. Greenish-black tendrils hang from the ceiling and will snatch up the naked characters, spinning a formfitting podsuit around their bodies. Most find this alarming, but at least they’re not running around naked anymore. (It’s possible to evade the tentacles if you’re quick and alert, though.)
They’re clothed in what looks like a dark green-blue-black jumpsuit, faintly shiny. Despite being disturbingly plantlike, the material is soft, comfortable, and surprisingly durable. Characters will have difficulty even deliberately tearing them.
The weird part is that the suits are just as alive as the ship around them. Little veins run through them that pulse against the skin, which is going to take some getting used to.
The plantsuits can be removed by tugging a small, clawlike protrusion on the shoulder, but they’re a little finicky to get in and out of with any speed.
They also keep you clean, which is useful but creepy.
THE OBS DECK
The Obs Deck looks out on space, or at least it would if the blast shields that protect the windows weren’t shut and Angie weren’t beached on a strange alien world like an awkward space whale. It was clearly a casual gathering place for the previous crew, given the presence of high-backed chairs that seem to have spines and growths of fatty tissue rising from the floor meant to serve as couches. Some are conveniently beside slender-legged, boney platforms that might possibly be made of tooth enamel. Tables.
On the primary wall is a massive reliefwork, rising 50 feet in the air to the ceiling. It’s a feminine portrait, though formed of the same biomechanical surface as the tougher floors and walls of the ship. She appears to be at rest. For now.
THE MESS HALL
An open room full of long, bony tables with long, bony benches, the mess hall’s cafeteria status is fairly obvious. A large, unblinking eye above the doorway follows characters as they approach. Once it has scanned them, a tray will pop out of a slot in the wall for them to pick up, loaded up with nutritious (though, unfortunately, not delicious) slop calibrated to their unique dietary needs. Even the tray is edible, crunchy and a bit like a dry tortilla.
…That’s how the room is supposed to work, at least. With Angie in her current state, she doesn’t have the resources to feed the crew on a consistent (or frequent) basis yet. They’ll have to find alternate sources of food.
BATHROOMS
Bathrooms are located in convenient places about the ship, chiefly near the mess hall and sleeping area.
Upside-down cup structures hang to one side, just above head height. Standing under them will cause one to reach down and clean the character’s hair and face with a schlupping noise and a brief sucking sensation. Between this and the podsuits, it seems the ship’s builders decided there would be no need for showers.
The toilets bear a strong resemblance to pitcher plants. Several nodules poke out of the wall around each, and touching them will clear the basin and produce a puff of faintly sweet-smelling air from above. There are no sinks, but there are small round pods full of disinfecting liquid for characters’ hands.
Near the doorway there is a smaller version of the eye from the cafeteria. If a character is in need of hydration, the sensor will detect this and a helpful tentacle will shoot out of a wall and inject them with fluids. This stings a bit and is rather alarming the first time (…or if you drift too close without paying attention), but is quick and the needle heals the opening on its way out.
SLEEPING HALLS
Rows of little corridors fill the hall with openings at regular intervals. In each hole is an area big enough for a human being to lay down and sleep, and if someone larger than a human wants to rest there, the chamber actually stretches out to fit them and give them space.
Vents, little holes in the roof of each cubbyhole (that look like nostrils) blow moist, cool air down on your character's face--and it's a necessity. The cubbyholes are so small, they'd feel rather claustrophobic otherwise. Oh, and the walls do throb a little, like the rest of the ship.
Yes, that is the main place for your character to sleep. Yes, it is creepy.
But at least it's warm and soft, and the opening will shrink to keep people from staring in at you. It won’t stop anyone from barging in and shaking you awake, of course, but you can’t have everything can you?
THE OFFICERS’ QUARTERS
There is one other place to sleep, but in rather limited supply. The high ranking members of the previous crew were too good for the common sleeping halls and had their own, less fleshy rooms.
The officers’ quarters are inorganic. The bulkheads are metal, the floors rubberized, the ceilings have lights and not pulsing bioluminescent nodules. But the most important thing is they have more conventional style beds, frequently large enough for more than one occupant, and personal showers. There is still no running water, of course, but a sonic shower in the officers’ quarters is a little closer to home than nothing for many characters.
Also, the doors truly lock to give you (and, possibly, other yous) privacy. Bless technology.
There will usually be more people who want them than available rooms, so expect to have arguments over them and work out a schedule of times when you get the nice beds.
THE BRIDGE
The ship’s command center is above the Obs Deck and accessible through the tube that also leads to the pod caverns. It’s full of exciting blinking lights and buttons that you probably shouldn’t push. On a raised dais in the center is the captain’s chair, which gave them a rotating viewpoint from which to oversee the running of the ship.
The various consoles are mostly not very useful for now, primarily concerned with navigation and flight. The readouts show extensive damage throughout the ship and helpfully point out the biggest holes, as well as the fact that the weapons systems are completely borked and the shielding is on its very last legs.
The ship’s announcement system can be used from the bridge to tell EVERYONE aboard something, if it’s especially important. Even sleeping characters will receive the message through telepathic channels.
THE MEDIA LIBRARY
While life aboard a ship is busy, it’s nice to have something to do in one’s leisure time. The media library houses terminals that can stream audio and video as well as digitized texts. For those inclined, there’s also a collection of video games if one can work out how you’re supposed to play them.
Mushroom-like headphones are provided for your convenience, and the seats here are quite comfortable.
At the center of this room is a large, elaborate structure of crystal. The crystals are carved with millions of microscopic trails and strung with an array of tubes and wires of dubious function. A small plaque at the base identifies it as the “TRANSLATION MATRIX - ONLY AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL”. You probably shouldn’t screw around with it.
In the back is a large table with a smooth, dark surface and a number of chairs. It can project 3-dimensional images above it, or flat ones onto the back wall. It would be useful for holding a meeting, perhaps.
Or, you know. Streaming Manos: the Hands of Fate.
THE MEDICAL BAY
Medical can probably save your life, if you know how to use it. It’s full of mushy beds (complete with medical restraints that look like the legs of insects), chitinous healing tanks of sloshy blue liquid, and strange, slightly sinister, and gross-looking equipment. Membranous dividers can rise up from the floor on spindly frames, providing some privacy for patients.
Of particular interest are the scanners that will detect important information about crew members, such as species and blood type, to assist in treating them. Some diseases and injuries can be detected automatically, but unfamiliar pathogens and subtle damage might be missed.
Those with medical training can likely work out what many of these things do and find something close enough to familiar tools, but equipment will only get you so far. Things like replacing lost blood or administering anesthesia just aren’t possible without Angie being able to synthesize needed materials. She needs all the resources she can to fix herself, for the moment.
It’s better than nothing, for now. And hey, perhaps there’s medical information in the library?
THE SENSORIUMS
Near the media library are the sensoriums: three large and seemingly empty chambers. Once activated, however, they serve as the ship’s holodeck. Only better.
The sensoriums create solid objects from virtual particles that exist because you think they do. The ship telepathically suggests this belief, and so they are. It’s very advanced and technological and SCIENCE, rest assured.
The sensoriums can produce detailed simulations (with some limitations for safety) based on a character’s thoughts and instructions, capable of filling in the gaps through extrapolation. Even people can be represented, with temporary AI.
The only thing the sensoriums can’t get right is food, unfortunately. It will never taste anything like it’s supposed to, and like anything else in the sensorium it doesn’t technically exist and you’ll still be hungry afterward.
The left chamber is a bit… off. It seems when Angie crashed, something somewhere connected to this sensorium was damaged. It will work just fine sometimes, sure, but others? Strange graphical bugs will happen, hostile glitches might appear, and who knows what else. Be careful.
WEAPONS & POSSESSIONS LOCKERS
Near the entrance to this room are rows of neat, shiny, chitinous lockers with numbers above them. The very astute will note these correspond to the numbers on pods in the caverns. Those having difficulty finding theirs will be assisted by light trails in the floor, just as below. On each locker is a scanner that, when touched by its owner, will open up.
Characters will find several of their possessions inside their locker. Weapons (nothing larger or more destructive than a rifle), tools, signature pieces of clothing (but no full outfits or huge, dangerous things like powered armor), and personal trinkets are most common.
Past the lockers are long rows stacked with metal crates, many open, and it’s easy to get lost among them. The labeling system is incomprehensible, but the boxes seem to be full of all sorts of goodies. There are some basic weapons (from swords to shotguns) and other immediately useful equipment, but also seemingly random items like musical instruments, chess boards, and fine porcelain vases. Occasional weird and possibly dangerous artifacts turn up here from time to time. These things seem to be free to use, but anything left lying outside a locker will probably be reorganized and disappear after a day or so.
W&P works in mysterious, ineffable ways.
Along the right wall, past the lockers, there is a large doorway labeled…
ARMORY [INACCESSIBLE]
The sphincter-like door to the ship’s armory is currently sealed tight, and Angie is unable to open it due to the pain she’s in. Inside is a neatly catalogued library of the ship’s heavy weaponry. Unfortunately, one needs to know exactly what they’re looking for in order to tell the armory’s computer to find it. Once called, the armory will shuffle its many pods around and push out the requested item, safely sealed in a fleshy case. This is where you’re going to find things like rocket launchers, power suits, and powerful magical items of destruction. Aside from the translucent wall separating the room from the vast stores of pods, the room is fairly featureless aside from a hole descending into…
THE VEHICLE GARAGE [INACCESSIBLE]
Like the armory, this is currently inaccessible due to the damage to the ship.
Motorcycles! Jeeps! Is that a boat? A glider?!
Unfortunately the ship’s not quite big enough to go hauling gigantic battle robots, but Angie has all sorts of moderately-sized ways of getting around that will certainly come in handy. They’re all arranged neatly, ready for fueling (if they need it). Most things in here aren’t sporting significant weaponry (particularly crafty members of the crew could probably fix that), though characters might occasionally locate their signature battlewagon.
In addition to the vehicles, the garage has all sorts of tools to repair, modify, and maintain them. …You’re just going to have to supply your own parts if you want to add shiny new things, though.
ENGINEERING
Engineering is near the center of the ship, and its main room is large and circular, surrounded by organic computer consoles and strange buzzing equipment. Side rooms contain lab tables and well-lit stations where someone could likely get serious work done.
The hole in the center of the floor is about fifty feet in diameter, and surrounded by a railing so no one falls in, as it would be certain death. Ladders and thick conduits lead into it, and safety protocols recommend that you ask for a tentacle-tether if you intend to climb down inside. Below is the shielding and framework that protects the core itself. The hole is filled with glowing yellow-green light and radiates sweltering (though survivable) heat. It's shielded so the radiation levels aren't that bad, but it's probably not a good idea to hang out in the core for long periods.
Wear goggles if you're going to toy around in there, and above all else, don't push any buttons unless you know what you're doing.
Engineering is right next to…
NEUROPATHY
One of the only places on the ship with inorganic equipment, Neuropathy is a control center right next to and part of Engineering that monitors Angie’s neural network--basically where the ship's IT guys once resided. If there's a problem with the ship’s neurological structure, it showed on the readouts on the inorganic consoled (which would have been unaffected by it and have more accurate sensors) and little cars attached to the hanging framework around her massive nerves would send repair crew along her neural pathways to find the damage and fix it. Incidentally, the room is high-risk for hacking due to its direct link to Angie’s “brain”.
One of the stations in Neuropathy appears to have exploded with some violence, probably during the disaster that stranded Angie here.