Jago smiles as he calls back the number for traffic control, and takes the unlit cigar from his mouth when the call is answered.

“This is the Profit Margin, I’d like to speak to Ellan Tyrreto, the call is expected.”

“Jago Lanza, ”he introduces himself when Ellan comes on the line, “Captain of the Profit Margin, how can I help you?”

Shui gives the woman a warm smile.  "The paper will be quite sufficient, thank you."  She slips over to the rack, studying the choices.  One, more serious than the others, catches her eyes, and she picks it up and turns in time for Tylen's discovery.  "Mr. DeSant - perhaps a copy of this one, though if pirate tales are more to your liking...."

Quick steps bring her to where the card hangs, and she studies it, moving the glasses forward on her nose.  Now that definitely brightens her day, though she doesn't plan on relinquishing the paper.  "...and thank you, Mr. Ogresh," she finishes with relief.  "This is an unexpected and welcome surprise."  Something I can purchase!

Excellent.

"Hmph, had I been an archeologist I might have been interested in these gun magazines," Yas comments to herself as she replaces the magazine with a shake of her head.

"Find anything of interest, Corlan?" she asks as she turns to see what the others are up to, finding this place about as much fun as a posh dinner party.

The woman takes Shui's money, frowning briefly at the Imperial currency, and moving her lips as she makes the conversion in her head, before handing the medic her change in small octagonal pieces of copper and silver.  Not Imperial Credits, but of possible interest to a numismatist.

She glances up at Tylen's question, "Eh?  Oh, that'll be ol' Barclay's junk shop.  If you follow the road round to the right, as you step out, it's about a quarter of the way 'round the dome.  Can't miss it.  Just stay on the road, and it's right next to the Post Office."

Corlan smiles at Yas, "I was just surprised that they have aircraft here, with the air being so thin.  Then I saw how they do it, look...  Oversized wings and compressor systems on the engines.  And they stay low, to take advantage of the ground effect."

"Imagine it... screaming along at four hundred kilometres per hour, less than ten metres off the ground, with only simple propellors to keep you in the air.  Quite terrifying!"


Back at the ship, Jago's call is put through without delay.  There is no video.  "Captain Lanza, thank you for calling back so soon.  I needed to speak to you about the comm traffic your ship reported on arrival, the message from Never Say Die.  Do you by any chance have recordings of the signal?  Your own equipment is likely far more advanced than our own, and might have picked up something we missed."

"Really?" Yasmine says with her face brightening a little as she leans over to peek at what he has found.

"I wonder if they will let a stranger go for a spin!  That'd be fun, almost like going fast on the motorcycle," she says enthusiastically, picturing herself screamig a few feet over the ground with her lif ein her own hands.

"Excuse me, do you know if there is anywhere where one might try these flying machines?" she asks the woman behind the counter.

No visuals in, no visuals out, Jago flips off the comms camera, (OOC. I’ll make that a standing protocol please). It seems to Jago that if someone is deliberately not showing an image, it won’t hurt if he does the same, and if they just don’t have image capability, they’ll never know anyway.

”We’d just dropped out of N space when that message came trough, and our rather ancient computer has to prioritize the sequence in which the functions come back on line, comms recording is pretty far down the list but I’ll check for you, can you hold on a mo.”

Actually, Jago is rather fond of the computer and considers it to be the sixth member of the crew, as he buys a little ‘fishin’ time’ he tips it a wink, just so it’s in on the ruse and doesn’t take offence at being called ‘ancient’.

A little fishin’ then, “this wont take long,,” Jago says, the carries on in a conversational tone, “so you get a lit of piracy in this system, I see you have a reward out?”

"Not a lot of piracy, no.  This is probably the first in the last century and a half, at least, since Vilis became the subsector capital, and all the trade routes shifted."

"I think the reward has been offered to try and nip it before it gets properly established.  You know, let any potential pirates know that we won't stand for it here."


"Hire a plane?" the news seller looks a little puzzled, "I don't know of anywhere that'd let you hire one to fly yourself.  They're expensive.  The port gets them landing there though, passenger and cargo transports.  You might be able to book a ticket for a flight on one of those."

Then Corlan says, "Oh... look at this one." and holds the magazine open, in front of Yas' nose.

“Oh, what about the Big Deal?” Jago asked with a little surprise evident in his voice, “didn’t she fall victim to pirates?”

"Bah, passenger transports, no way," Yas sighs and then starts to say something else when she finds herself forced to step back to see what actually is in that magazine.

"Hey, yeah, look at that!  Mmhmm, looks like a sensible craft, that!  I wonder if it belongs to Paranoid Pete or something?" she chuckles and moves the magazine out of the way so she can look at Corlan.  "Are you going to buy that?  If not, I think I'll take it to show the flying 'noia some possess here!"

Shui pockets her money.  A 'junk shop' sounds a little less appetizing, but one person's junk may be another person's treasure.  Perhaps this will be hers.  "Thank you," she says quietly, stepping back to allow others to discuss with the woman.

She will have to go get this currency changed before they leave.  Something to remember.  Though it could also be a decent enough remembrance.

Yasmine is talking with Corlan and the woman, so Shui quietly moves to the front of the store and looks out at the cold, rocky world.  There is a certain beauty to it, if one looks carefully enough.  The universe, Shui knows, is all about perspective.

Tylen moves to stand with the Doctor looking at the world outside.

"It ai'nt what I'd call pretty Doc, but it's got something I'd have to admit."

He paused for a moment in thought, striving for words he rarely used. He recalled a phrase he must have read years before,

"I guess I'd call it, 'A bleak and inhospitable majesty'. Yep, that's what this planet has."

He fell silent; a little embarrassed at his outburst.

"Buy it?  I... " Corlan looks perplexed, and then realisation his him, "Oh, you mean the magazine.  For a moment I thought you were talking about the aircraft.  By all means, Miss Crow, take this copy.  They have another on the shelf."

He hands Yas the magazine, and picks up the other one for himself.  "They might not be grav vehicles, but they do have a certain... style to them."


Yes, that's correct Captain.  Both Big Deal and Never Say Die were attacked.  We believe that both attacks were carried out by the same pirates, and this is the first pirate vessel we've had in the system for one hundred and fifty years."

”Oh I see, I thought you meant only one attack, rather than only one pirate. Hold on a minuet…, here we are, one recording as requested. I’ll pop it onto a data slug and bring it over.”

"And why not?" Shui agrees, quietly.  "Though perhaps not inhospitable.  Perhaps one merely needs to know where to look."  She frowns.  "Though it goes without saying that strangers would find themselves in such a predicament.  Your description certainly seems apt, upon reflection."

She glances up at Tylen, one eyebrow rising slightly.  "A poet?  Or an avid reader of such, Mr. Ogresh?  Either way, if you have poetry, written by yourself or others, I would be interested in reading it."  Turning back, she stares out the window again, her eyes searching amidst the weeds and rocks.  The doctor is not even certain of the object of her hunt.

"It would be the more interesting if you wrote it," she admits.  "I might then be able to say I knew a poet."

"I don't get this." Saskia studies one of the magazines, frowning, "Why is the computer so big in this picture, and why do all these wheels and dials on the front look like an angry face?  It has smoke coming out of it too."

She flicks back a couple of pages and looks at the title of the article, "THE TIN GOD: A Tale of Technological Terror.  Okay.  Hey look, the computer says, right here, 'Now you will serve ME, puny humans!'  Better not let the ship's computer see that."

The engineer hides her face in the magazine and stifles a laugh.  The front cover bears the title World's Best SF and a picture of an improbable spacecraft, leaving an equally improbable vapor trail through space.  The back cover has advertisements for X-ray spectacles, which will apparantly allow the wearer to see through peoples' clothing, and for something called "sea monkeys".

"I mean, why doesn't somebody just frelling reboot the thing?  Or pull the plug?  It's no good - I have to buy this to see why they can't just switch it off."

If a suitably equipped observer was to perform a detailed photographic analysis of Tylens deeply tanned face at his moment, they might just discern a slight reddening of the cheekbones.

"Ummm, well I wrote some stuf once, you know, like when I was a teenager."

He has, in fact, written poetry for most of his life but he has never shared it with anyone. He clears his throat, looking for a less sensitive topic.

"So, you like collect stuff from every world you visit? That's a really cool idea. I wish I had thought of something like that. I saw a lot of amazing places when I was in the Scouts, but I never even thought to take a photograph. I guess I'm just going to have to rely on the old grey matter when I come to write my memoirs."

"That'd be most helpful, Captain.  We have imported readers that can handle most types of media.  Come up to the third floor and ask for department three twenty-one."


The woman takes the money for the various purchases, and provides change in local currency.  There seems to be a surprising amount of change in each case.  Everything here costs a lot less than an Imperial Credit, possibly due to the low exchange rate of the local Guilder.

"I got a close fix on Never Say Die's transmission." Conrad says to Jago, as he calls up the nav data and indicates the display.

"Got a direction, an' a distance, based on the time marker on their signal, that all ties in with their reported position.  While you're over to the Port Office, I c'n fix up some course plots to get us over there, if'n y'all still wan't that?"

Shui's eyebrows both rise at Saskia's exasperated exposition.  "You should definitely purchase it, Saskia - I would enjoy reading it, myself, when you are finished.  It sounds as if it might provide amusement, even to someone of my limited engineering background."  From the window she studies the front cover.  There's something like a big, frowning face on it, and Shui blinks in bemusement.

Tylen, however, sounds quite uncomfortable on the subject of poetry.  Perhaps he does not consider it masculine?  Shui has heard of such things, and no longer considers the attitude odd, despite the fact that it is completely different in her culture.  Different strokes, as the saying goes.  "A pity," she notes casually, hoping to put him back to a more relaxed state.  "I would have enjoyed reading your work.  I wonder how it might have went had you continued."

But he quickly changes the subject - she knows that when she hears it - and Shui is content to trundle along in the wake of his words.  "There is no time like the present to begin."  She sighs.  "Too many people decide that since they did not start something in their youth, it would be a waste to begin it now."  One hand comes out with a small, local coin, which she rolls back and forth between her fingers for a moment.  "Others seize the opportunity when it comes, and when they think of it."  Her gaze slides across the room to where Corlan DeSant stands, and a small smile tugs at the corners of her mouth.

Her thumb snaps the coin into the air.  It spins, looking like a hazy globe, as she stares at Corlan.  Her hand flicks out in pursuit, to catch it while it hangs at its apex on a level with her ear; then Shui looks back at Tylen.  "So.  We all must choose which we are, at every minute of our lives."

Saskia buys the magazine, rolling it up and tucking it into one of the bigger pockets on her coveralls.  Then she moves directly under the light and examines her change curiously.

Money, stamped out of metal.  Not the usual hard-wearing plastic bills she's used to.  Interesting, in a strange sort of way, and it occurs to her that nervousness has kept her aboard the ship at almost every port for the last two years.  How many frontier worlds, with strange customs and stranger currency, has she missed in that time?

And now Shui is talking about siezing, or missing, opportunities.

Tylen rapidly reviews what he knows of the doctor's heritage. He stands upright and alert.

"Very well then Doctor, I say we go now and seek further trinkets for your collection."
He smiles,
"maybe you'll provide me guidance on how to start mine."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:34, Sun 13 Aug 2006.

“Department twenty one, on the third floor, I’ll see you shortly Miss Tyrrento,” Jago cuts the comms link.

“Good work Conrad, ,do those course fixes but there’s a lot more I want to know before I commit to going after this pirate ship, I’m still not totally convinced that there actually is one.”

“There should be a Vargr turning up soon, she says her brother went missing on the Big Deal, the first ship to be lost, and I’m inclined to believe her, but from what you told me, the incident sounds more like some sort of scam by the captain than any piracy. Anyway, make her comfortable if she turns up, I’ll be back presently.”

Jago downloads the sound file and pulls his jacket straight as he heads for the hatch, “oh yes, for some reason Yas told this Vargr that she was the ship’s captain.”

"I would be more than pleased to assist, Mr. Orgesh.  You do me honor with the request."  Shui bows to Tylen, then turns back to Saskia.  "Ms. Blake, will you be coming to the 'trinket shop'?  They might have antiques there.  Perhaps ancient electronics, or obsolete machinery.  Surely something will be of interest to you.  Mr. DeSant?  Yourself?  Captain?"  This last directed to 'Captain' Crow.

"Sure, I'm up for it."  Saskia nods, showing uncharacteristic enthusiasm.  After all, she'll be with friends.  What could go wrong?

(Apart from the dome being hit by a Sword Worlds orbital bombardment, or filling with smoke in a fire, or being quarantined due to some strange alien illness, or a psychotic Vargr going berserk with a slugthrower on full auto.)

"Should be fun." she adds.  "Should be."

"Ah, great, thanks, Corlan.  It'll be a cute memento from here," Yas says with a grin and then nods to Sushi.  "Absolutely, Doc."