Talk:September 5, 2009
--Leon 03:45, 20 April 2010 (EDT): Sorry about some of the edits in Psion's portion here. I don't like to step on another writer's toes, but there were a few lines to which I wanted to add color and improve the flow. Psion's sanctum aboard the PsiPlane's flight deck is one that I've sketched in the past in the broadest of swipes, but the details forever shift. This pilot's chair is likely more of an upright slab against which the operator leans rather than actually sits, although there's no reason the slab couldn't also fold to allow one more comfortable postures. Since 1989, I've envisioned a large, flatscreen display hinged or armed by some means that allows it to swing in front of the pilot, but since then, as technology has caught up with my vision, I've pushed the boundaries onward to a large transparent display, and now to a HUD painted on the windscreen itself with lasers.
Still, there's a need for some face time with actual displays so there's probably one or two smaller displays associated with the pilot's seat that can swing out of the way when not in use.
There are probably other displays as well. Some recessed at an angle into the ceiling, and some at workstations to the rear. And it's likely that no displays or lights face the windscreen since that would cast unwanted reflections and glare against the view outside.
The acoustic characteristics of the PsiPlane are always in a bit of flux. There are almost certainly some mechanical noises from ventilation, liquid equalization, and other sources. Computer noises are mostly non-Treklike, possibly a babble of quiet, spoken reports that might just be representative of the telepathic interface; i.e., something only Psion himself hears. There's also something distinctly human about the sound of a ticking clock; it is soft, meditative, and comforting. More importantly it's also likely a sort of heartbeat that Psion himself rarely feels, so this would be one of those 'ties to humanity' that he'd latch onto, almost as an affectation. The irony of the sound being generated by computers is likely lost on him.
Over the years, I imagine the decor within the entire craft has subtly altered. While originally all metal and plastic, wood-grains, leathers, and fabrics have found their way aboard. Over time, the PsiPlane has become Psion's den and a place for contemplative retreat. While he's willing to invite others along for short excursions and mission-specific assistance, there are few he'd welcome there.