The group of tourists collect their assorted purchases and head out of the store, following the route around the edge of the dome.  There are a few people about, and more as they get further from the entrance.  The nature of the businesses changes too, with more grocery and general stores starting to appear.

Finally there is a post office ahead, and next door to it, a smaller place, labelled Barclay's Curio and Antique.

The interior is even dimmer than their last port of call, and almost claustrophobic, with rows of shelves filled with all manner of objects.  Just to the left of the door is a counter, where a young man is smiling so broadly that his face looks about ready to split in half.  "Good afternoon.  What can I do for you good people today?"


Jago crosses to the port building.  Having debated the situation, he decides to walk, rather than getting the 'raft out again.  It's only one hundred metres, two hundred tops.  By the time he gets there, he's starting to get chilly and a little short of breath, but nothing he can't handle.

He takes the elevator to the third floor, and asks directions to Department 21.

Seeing the young man smiling at her, Yas smiles right back and, after a quick look around, says, "Quite a shop you got here!  So, show me something local!  Not something for tourists, I want something genuine to Arkadia!"

"Oh, the name's Yasmine Crow, but you can call me Yas!"

Tylen politely holds open the door, then follows the Ladies in. Being at the rear of the party he has a good look round the shelves seeking items of interest. What he is looking for is something small but interesting to display in his cabin. Either an ornament or a picture, preferably original.

Saskia looks disinterested at first.  Until her eyes suddenly light on something that grabs her attention.  She darts forward and pushes Yas aside to reach her target.

"This is just what I need to help me keep the engines in line!"  She holds her prize up for the others to see; a large, yellow ceramic coffee mug, bearing the single word "BOSS" in big black letters.

"Yeah.  This'll show that frelling fusion core who's in charge of Engineering.  Jago too." she adds, smiling.

"How much is this please?"



_{OOC: Sorry Yas.  :-)}

After a moment of catching his breath, Jago, Jago determines that he really must start doing those press ups he keeps promising, and knocks loudly on the door of section twenty one.

Tylen peruses the shelves of mass produced tat. This is not at all what he expected.

Shui wanders through the shelves, occasionally pausing to prod something experimentally with one finger.  One of her eyebrows rose when she entered the store, and has only dipped down once or twice.  It seems pinned on a higher level, except when she faces the shopkeeper.

And, of course, when Saskia makes her find.  A smile of genuine pleasure lights her face.  Even in this place...once person's junk, another's treasure.  And treasure indeed, from the expression on the engineer's visage.  "Well found, Ms. Blake.  Certainly that will make the point," she encourages.  The doctor turns her eyes on Tylen.  "Well, Mr. Orgesh," she says more quietly, "we will find no rare objects or arts and crafts here.  A shame, though perhaps this...dusty tomb of moments will stir your creative spirit?"  She glances around the shop, and suddenly it takes on a new look to her.  The facade of junky shelves fades away, and for a moment Shui sees this as a world of tiny memories.

A corkscrew that might have seen a thousand celebrations...a mirror into which a face has stared, perhaps changing through the years then finally never returning...a miniature stopsign that no doubt guarded a room from parental intrusion....

"Mr. DeSant - have you found anything yet?"  With her new vision, Shui sweeps the displays.  "Something that might satisfy your collection?"

There.

It is a small lamp, almost in miniature.  The lamp itself is of dark metal, with highlights of brass (mostly rubbed away by years of handling).  It is made to look like a tiny oil lamp, with a china globe surrounding the clear glass inner sheath (which has a bulb for light, not a wick).  The globe is painted with a small design of flowers and dark wheat - earth tones, mostly.  A cheap lamp, of the sort one might find in a bargain store.

Shui takes the small lamp in her hand.  "I have."

Tylen looked up from  a display of pokerwork signs bearing crude, semi-humorous, mottos and limericks.

"I don't think so Doc, maybe I should have bought a magazine like you suggested."

As he moved along the shelf his attention was caught by a small carved wooden box.

"Wait a minute, what's this?"

He lifted the lid and a tune began to play.

"Hey, wow! This thing's not electronic, it's MECHANICAL."

He closed the box,

"I'll take this."

The woman who opens the door to Jago looks to be in her late forties, with short-cropped grey hair.  She peers at the starship captain over the top of her spectacles.  "Captain Lanza?  I'm glad you could make it.  I'm Ellan Tyrreto.  Come in, please, have a seat."

She moves around the desk and sits, flicking through a stack of documents for a few moments, then she looks up, <Blue>"Thank you for agreeing to help us out here, Captain.  Are you satisfied with the service you're receiving here at the port so far?"


In the store, the young man grins as he sees the various items, and starts reeling off prices, all in the local Guilders, rather than Imperial Credits.  The prices all seem surprisingly low.  "Do you want any of these items wrapped?"

Meanwhile, Corlan surveys the shelves, "I have seen a couple of items that might have potential, but nothing yet that really grabs my attention."

The storekeeper's smile broadens as he sees the Credits, "If you folks are int'rested, I do have some more... exclusive stuff in the back?"

Jago doesn’t answer the woman’s question, he can’t for the moment think of any services he’s received so he just smiles, nods vaguely and hands over the data slug, “I hope this is helpful”.

After looking around for a moment, “how many ships have been in or out of here over the last month,” Jago asks after a while, “I don’t suppose it’s many, it will be even less once this business becomes known in the nearby systems.”

“We are headed for Frenzie next as it happens, I can take a message to the navy base there if you like.”

"Exclusive, eh?  Maybe you're the man to talk to," Yas says, seeing a chance to spread rumours about their ship.  She moves over to the man and whispers, "Perhaps you could point me in the right direction as to where I might obtain missiles for a starship?  You seem connected, after all!  Not that me ship is fresh out, oh no, but a bit extra never hurts, right?"

She tries to sound just a little desperate while attempting to mask it.  Even if this store hardly sells missiles the man may either have connections one way or another, or perhaps spread the word to ears eager to hear such things.  And if neither, well, nothing lost in trying.

"Fortuitous."  Shui raises an eyebrow at Tylen's discovery.  "A rare find."  It might even be an antique.  Who can say?  Shui certainly isn't an expert in that field.  "My condolences, Mr. DeSant."  She pauses at the shopkeeper's offer.  "Perhaps...you might find something in the back?"

But her tone is a trifle uncertain.  A junk shop that sells for surprisingly low prices.  How does he meet his overhead?  Tourists.  With money.  An offer to see the 'exclusive' items in the back.

"If you wish to see the items in question, I will join you."  The doctor judges it a wise decision to keep her guard up.

Tylen pays for his find happily and carefully stows the neat little box within his jacket.
He picks up on the change in the Doctors manner, something in her voice or body language alerts him to her concern.

"Yeah, um, me too Doc."

His hands move imperceptibly closer to his holstered pistols.

Ellan Tyrreto regards Jago with interest as she tests the slug for compatability with the several readers arrayed along one side of her desk.

"It would certainly be useful if you could take a message there for us.  We already contacted them, but we've heard nothing back yet.  Not even a confirmation that they received our request."  She sighs, "Your's is only the fourteenth or fifteenth ship to land here in the last month, and none have come through from Frenzie, so, regretably, there has been no word from there."

"Four days ago, the captain of our one regular mail carrier, Arnold Lytton, of the March Dancer, informed us he was moving further away from the border, and so would not be coming back through Arkadia while a state of war exists.  I expect that news from outside the system will become a valuable commodity."

"Ah... here we are."  Never Say Die's distress call starts to crackle from the set of speakers on her desk.


The storekeeper grins at Yas, until it sinks in that she isn't joking.  "Uh, no, far as I know the only place around here that sells those fancy ship systems is over at the port itself.  Office on the ground floor over in the main building, and a warehouse in the basement.  Even then he might not have what you're looking for.  Arkadia's kinda the groat's backside of the Sector, if you get my meaning?  Nothing comes in here, and nothing of real value comes out."

"Now, if you'd like to see this other stuff?" he moves around and changes the sign on the door to read "closed", then leads the way into the rear of the store.  The stuff in there isn't a lot different to what is in the front, but much of it is in better condition.

Corlan's eyes light on a wooden plaque, bearing a metal plate.  The plate is engraved with a spacecraft.  He moves closer and peers at it.  "Isn't this the same type of ship as Profit Margin?"

Saskia leans closer to study Corlan's find.  "Not exactly the same model, it's an older version, but definitely the right class.  The main difference is in the shape of the thrust vents."

She runs her fingers across the metal.  "I think this is a piece of hull plating."

"Ah, of course," Yas replies with a shrug, hoping the man will have a loose tongue for someone so full of secrets.

"Oh, look here, an antiquity.  Hmm...  What would you want for this?" she asks the man as she spots an old shotgun, used for hunting rather than combat by the looks of it.  Would look nice on the wall, though.

Jago nods sympathetically as the speakers crackle into life, “not looking good, is it.”

“Do you have any theories about this?” the Captain asks after the short message had run its course, “any ‘J’ transits you can’t account for? No offence, but it’s difficult to see what people might gain from piracy here, apart from the ships themselves.”

"The ships?" Ellan Tyrreto looks startled at that idea.  "I don't... wait...  That would make more sense.  Either one of those ships'd be worth... what?  A hundred times the value of any cargo it might have been carrying?"

She grabs a piece of paper and scribbles a note to herself.  "I'll mention that to our own investigators.  Thank you."

"As for J transits... well, we have a ship drop in, without landing, maybe once or twice a month.  We pick up the energy surge, usually out near one of the giants.  Then the ship never comes in.  Sometimes they'll call traffic control to say they're just going to refuel, other times we never hear from them.  We don't really have the equipment to track them that far out."


Meanwhile...

The storekeeper snaps his fingers, "Just a minute!"  He moves back out to the counter, and returns a moment later with a newspaper.  "Here you go.  They interviewed him in the paper last week.  Article tells you where to find his supply store."  He hands the newspaper to Yas, then smiles when he sees the gun.

"Nice, isn't it?  Let's see... I believe I have that priced at... fifteen thousand.  Guilders that is.  The whole thing is hand made."

His attention shifts to Corlan and Saskia then, "Yes, I bought it from a spacer who retired here last year.  He said it was an image of his old ship, and yes, it's engraved on a piece of hull plate, part of a section that was replaced after a meteor impact.  I'd like thirty thousand for that, and I'm cutting my own throat at that price."

”Who’s heading up the investigation then?” Jago asks with surprise in his voice, “I assumed that it was you.”

“I must admit that I’m rather concerned about these attacks, I can’t hep the feeling that we’d be an ideal victim.”

Tylen turns to the shopkeeper,

"A Spacer retired here you say? Gee he must have REALLY wanted a quiet life. Do ya see anything of him anymore?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:30, Thu 31 Aug 2006.

"Fifteen?  Well, I might accept that if you got some actual ammo for it too.  I mean, a gun without ammo is like a marine without guns - it goes against nature itself," Yas comments, half interested in the old gun.  It would look quite quaint over the bed, after all.

She did however took the chance to look around for anything else that might be of interest as well.  Perhaps they would have one of those soft toys that kids tended to like.  The sort of odd bear that look suspiciously much like a monkey in a bad disguise, or something.

"No, I'm afraid I'm just coordinating things between the Port Control and the Heirarch's Office.  He has his own military people investigating this, but I doubt that any of them have even been into low orbit.  I have." Ellan Tyrreto says, obviously proud of her acheivement.  "Last year I persuaded Captain Lytton to take me on a three hour flight on the March Dancer.  I saw Arkadia from ten thousand kilometres up."


Clambering up a stepladder, the man starts searching through some boxes on a high shelf, talking the whole time, "He didn't stay around here, I know that.  Said he was sick of space, and wanted to get as far away from it as possible.  That's why he sold me that plaque... Dawson, that's what he said his name was, he claimed he'd decided he didn't want anything to remind him of being a spacer."

"He might've moved to one of the smaller towns, one that doesn't even have a port.  In which case he could be in any one of a hundred places."

"Ah... here we are.  Put them up here for security."

He tosses a small box down to Yas.  One that gives a metallic *clink*.

"Buy the gun, and you can have those for free."

Conrad looks at the comm board, and shakes his head, then he flicks it over to broadcast on the local channels.

"Profit Margin to all crew.  I'm rec'mendin' that y'all conclude whatever business y'all have there, an' head back to the farm, people.  Fast as yer can."

He sits back then, running that incoming message through playback again, just one more time, in case it turns out to be some sort of bad joke.

Now we'll see who has a comm with them, per Jago's orders, an' who has the darned thing switched on.

Tylen jumps as his comm crackles into life. He listens to the message.

"Better make tracks people, Conrad sounds a little jumpy."

He nods to the shopkeeper,

"Thanks for your attention Sir, you've been a great help."

"Hmm, all right, you got a deal.  Those cartridges with the gun, for 15,000 Guildhalls or what it was," Yas say with a grin and then asks, "Are those still safe to fire?  Just in case..."

Before the salesman can answer her comm crackles to life and then replies to it, holding up a finger at the guy so he will give her a second.

"Yas here.  Roger that, we are on our way," she tells Conrad and then turns back to the salesman.

"Well, seems we have to go.  But first, I'll pay for this and take the answer to my question now, please."  She grins and then waits.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:28, Tue 05 Sept 2006.

The store owner seems happy to take their money, even if it means they won't be buying anything else.

"The shells should be good enough.  As I recall they were only made last year.  And it's dry in here." he replies to Yas.

"If you people get the chance, feel free to stop by again."

"We can get a taxi back to the port from one of those offices near the bar." Saskia remarks, handing Corlan's piece of hitech scrimshaw back to him, with a murmured, "If you don't want that, I'll have it."
This message was last edited by the player at 20:59, Tue 05 Sept 2006.

”Nothing quite like it”, Jago agrees, “after all these years I still get a buzz when I see a planet form orbit.”

Jago watches the woman at work for a short while, then stretches his shoulders, sighs and announces, “time I was going I suppose, do let me know if you find anything interesting.”

As he marches briskly across the frigid apron, Jago ponders an approach to the Heirarch's investigation team, Tyrreto could have put him in touch, but he didn’t want to bee seen as to keen or over curious, the less people who knew what he had in mind the better the chance of success. He hoped that no one outside the crew thought of the Profit Margin as anything other than a potential easy target. Except that of course, Vargr, she should have turned up at the ship by now, and Jago was anxious to talk to her. And Jockram, Jago would like to know a great deal more about the Captain of the Hound, before he went swaning off into space with him as a partner, oh yes..

OOC
Sorry everybody, I thought I’d already posted this :O(

"Thanks, good to hear.  A pleasure doing business with you," Yas says with a smile at the shop owner and then takes her new gun and turns to leave.

"Let's go folks.  Not sure what is going on, but I should get back in case that Vargr turns up soon anyway, I suppose," she tells the others with a grin and the begins to march out.

Tylen opens the door for the others and waits until they are all out.
He whispers to Yas as she passes,

"TWO Shotguns Yas? Damn girl we already KNOW you're a badass!"

"Hey, that's two shotguns and one auto-shotgun!  This one is for those special, cosy moments, though, being nearly prehistoric and all," Yas hisses back with a wink at Tylen in response to his whisper.  She seriosuly doubt it will ever be used, but it makes a nice and different souvenir for her.

Twenty minutes later, Jago arrives back at the ship, just as a taxi drops off his loyal crew and Corlan (who is almost crew) alongside her.  The ramp drops, with its usual screech, and Conrad smiles down at them from the top.

Quickly he explains that he has two pieces of news for them:

First, Yas' new Vargr friend has arrived, and is waiting in the passenger-side lounge, away from all the crew-side equipment and systems.

Second, there's an Imperial Navy ship on its way into orbit.  It's not here to hunt pirates though... it's in trouble, and looking to make emergency repairs.

Conrad barely gives them time to get up the ramp before he locks the door and starts talking, "Yas, we got ourselves a vargr waitin' to speak to Captain Crow.  I put her in the starboard side lounge to wait for y'all, figurin' we'd be better off with her well away from any controls."

He jerks a thumb toward the passenger side lounge, then turns to Jago, "Jago, I think we need to go fill the tanks, and prep for a quick dust off, just in case.  There's a destroyer coming in fast, Midu Agasham class, making about five gees, near's I can make out.  She's too big to land, but she wants to make low orbit for repairs.  Now, I don't have all the details, but it might mean trouble, so I'm thinkin' it could be good to be ready, see?"

OOC: I Take it that's GM hint no. 1001, "Stop pissing about, the plots over here..." : )

Tylen paid the cabbie as Jago fills them in.

"You want us to get ready to lift Captain?"

"Ah, just in time then!  Time to be captain.  Shall you join me, captain, as my first mate, or shall you deal with that little ship first?" Yas says with a chuckle and wonders why things always tend to happen at the same time and never wait in line like good little events.  Spread the fun, and all that jazz.

"Lucky for them we're on their side or we'd kick the butt just liek we did the Vargr's, eh, Jago?" she boasts in a very exaggerated manner and even hits her chest a few times as a sign of being powerful.  Naturally she begins to cough and wheeze from this display, to make it complete.

"A Midu?  Here?" Saskia looks a little surprised at Conrad's announcement.  "They're frontline ships, cutting edge, they wouldn't send one to some backwater on a pirate hunt.  Do you know her name?"

She plunks herself down on the deck and starts unlacing her boots.

"Did they say what's wrong?"

"Nope, di'n't say what was up, but I di'n't 'spect 'em to, neither.  Navy like to play their cards close." he says, with a chuckle, knowing that Saskia, like himself, had been in the Navy.

"It's the Shata Lunoqi.  Mean anythin'?"

"The Shata Lunoqi?" Saskia pauses in unfastening her boots, staring at Conrad, just for a few seconds, then finally kicks the boots off and stands up, flexing her toes in her thick socks.

"I think I might know her skipper.  At least I know who it was about five years ago."

“I was thinking of a run out to the gas giant to refuel, in the hope of tempting out our pirate friends,” Jago absently roles his cigar between finger and thumb, “things do seem to be developing here though.”

Coming to a decision, the captain pops the unlit cigar into the corner of his mouth, “right, we’ll move over to the pond and get fuelled up, can you prep for that please Sakia. It will take most of a day to process that, so we won’t be going anyplace, any time soon. ”

“Conrad, could you inform the tower then stand by on the comms, I’d like to know straight away if anything is going down.”

“Shui, we may have a house guest for a while, can you set up one of the state rooms for a Vargr.”

“Meanwhile Yas and I will have a little word with her, Dhakhingzuel, wasn’t it, you others are welcome to sit in if you like.”

“Can I have a quiet word Corlan,”

"Oh, right, yeah, Dashingfuel.  So, shall I be the captain, boss?" Yas says and looks ever so innocent as she poses the question, smiling like a little angel.  The number of guns she carries takes a little bit away from that picture, however, although she do manage to look almost harmless, especially if you squint a little and view her against the light where the gun barrels might be mistaken for wings or something.

”Sure, if you want to, but I hope you don’t mind if I sit in though.”

"Why, of course not!  You are my first officer, after all, and the one with the head for business," yas says and taps her nose knowingly before bursting out in a short but hearty laughter.

Saskia and Conrad head off to carry out the jobs that Jago requested, while the rest of the crew, with Corlan, head for the passenger lounges, or to their cabins, according to their own plans.

When the door opens, Dhakhingzuel is immediately visible, clearly in the process of pacing back and forth.  As the humans enter, she turns quickly to face them, "Cap-tain, you are here.  This is good.  I haave waited, such as you re-quest-ted.  We will hunt piraates to-geth-ther?  Yes?"

As she speaks, her head is bowed, shoulders slumped, and tail lowered.  She is not the same brash, confident Vargr that had approached them in the bar.  Her attitude now is clearly more submissive.  More polite.

"Hello, hello!  Well, let us talk business.  Just what exactly do you expect us to do, and why are you ready to pay for it?" Yas says without beating around the bush as she half returns the bow before taking a seat.  She leans forward and rests her elbows on her knees with the hands loosely held together in front of her, palm to palm.

"Any other questions, Jago?" she also asks, looking over at Jago.  He was the one who would be coming with the more clever stuff, she reasoned, with her being the ex marine and him the trader.

Tylen returned to his cabin nd cleared a space on the top of his locker for the music box. Looking round he realised the rest of the room could use a spruce, so he set to spring cleaning until he was sure it would pass an inspection like he'd had back at boot camp. Tidy, the little cabin looked very bare and he made a mental note to get some posters or art prints to liven it up, maybe even a potted plant.

”Why don’t you take a seat Miss, and tell us what you know about your brother’s disappearance,” Jago says with a smile at the Vargr, and a little nod to Yasmin.

Jago still feels that he’s fishing in the dark over this thing, and Dhakhingzuel is his best chance of getting a decent handle on it. There is no way that he’ll commit his ship and crew unless he knows what he’s getting into, yet eh more he investigates, the less clear the situation becomes.

Corlan gives the Vargr an appraising look as he passes her and goes into his own cabin, closing the door behind him.

The alien meanwhile perches herself on one of the softer chairs, right on the edge, with her tail tucked underneath herself and out between her knees.  "My brother, Oezzarr, was young brother.  Has work on Hoomaans trader ship called Big Deal.  Works two, maybe three year, as nav-igat-tor."

"All is good."

Her voice is pitched low, with the hint of a deep growl on the edge of it, and her ears are laid back, flat against her skull, as she continues to speak, her attention fixed on Yas, "Four times he comes to Gnavshroukt, what Hoomaans name Ark-kadia, with no troubles.  Then fiveth time, and Cap-tain of Big Deal, him hears story from other Hoomaan.  Oezzarr send message to me, at home at Dnarrouff, sorry, at Fren-zie.  Tells how soon he will be rich.  Cap-tain has hear about broke ship, will go find it, will claim it."

"I reads letter and laugh much.  Oezzarr always say he will be rich.  Then six day later, new letter.  Oezzarr is dead, kill by piraates.  I come here, fast as can, brings all save-ings, will see piraates dead.  Family pride say must do."

If the little canine is being truthful Yas can easily understand both why the Vargr wants to do this and why she can not offer any larger sum than what she does.  If it is true, she feels for poor thing.  But then, it might also be a scam - although, if it is, such a measly prize holds little incentive to any potential pirate hunter.

"Do you know anything else about this Big Deal, the captain and what ship they were going after?  Anything you can tell will help," she says, looking at Dashingfuel all the time.  First to learn as much as possible, she reasons, then she can chat with her captain before actually deciding things one way or another.

In her mind, if they want to seem desperate to make money and an easy prey - if this is a trap - then this is a good way.  Not without risks, but then neither is they everyday business on Profit Margin, and they do have their Letter of Marque.

The Vargr reaches into her jacket and removes a neatly-folded piece of paper, which she spreads out, flat, on the coffee table.  It is covered with precise columns of tiny geometric symbols, running top to bottom of the page.

"Here is letter.  Oezzarr says here... " Dhakhihgzuel taps one polished black curved nail against a section of what must be text. "... that Cap-tain says broke ship is very bigger than Big Deal.  Maybe twelve thousand khagh, ah... apo-logies... you says one thousand tons."

"In-form-mant say ship drive fail ten year back, after Jump.  People here, at Gnavshroukt not can get back, no ships.  Him say all think ship lost, and not re-mem-ber, but he see from other ship, some weeks gone by.  Him say not tell his Cap-tain, him not trust Cap-tain.  Him leave ship, let Cap-tain leave Gnavshroukt, then him start find new Cap-tain."

"I would tell Oezzarr be care-ful.  Not trust aenunel who be-tray own Cap-tain.  I not get chance to say this."

She thinks for a moment then, "Big Deal was what Hoomaans calls far trader.  Like size maybe same this ship, Profit Mar-djinn."

Listening in on the comm channels, Conrad chuckles, "Good ol' Navy social etiquette.  Don't go visiting someplace, 'lessin' y'all've introduced yourself properly."

He flicks the intercom to provide a direct link to Engineering, "Saskia, I jus' found out who's commandin' the Shata Lunoqi.  Name's Giata.  Is that who you thought it was?"

Jago takes a long pull on his cigar, and exhales slowly, ‘interesting’, he mumbles, then looks to his captain for permission before moving to the intercom.

“Conrad, can you check shipping records and news reports from around ten years ago, we are looking for a ship, around ten kay tons, that jumped in here, then suffered drive failure and was lost before landing, buzz us back if you find anything please.”

“Sorry captain,” Jago says turning back to Yasmin while hiding his smile behind the hand that holds his cigar, “do go on, I’d be fascinated to hear what the what eh authorities did over the loss of the big deal, and how you came to hear of it Miss, who sent the second letter?”

Saskia is on the Bridge almost before Conrad finishes speaking.  "Giata, eh?  She used to be my Commander on the Pugnacious before she transferred to the Shata Lunoqi."

"Let me see if I can talk to her.  Maybe she'll remember her old Engineer and tell me what's going on."  She moves towards the comm console.

Having been nodding and humming as the Vargr speaks she nods to Jago as he "asks for approval", Yas sits back looking thoughtful and pretends that it is perfectly normal for her to leave such menial tasks to her underlings.

She takes the letter and glances it over.  It is pure Vargr to her, and since she does not read it, it could as well be a shopping list or anything else.

"It's quite all right, Jago.  Yes, please, do go on!  I see the lure of such a prize, it would make quite the catch indeed," she agrees with him once he has spoken.

Tylen surveyed his tidy cabin with satisfaction. Still feeling energetic he strips and performs his routine workout before a quick shower and a change of clothes.

OOC - Desperately trying to play catchup, here and just get my foot back in the door... :)

Having carried out the Captain's orders to prep the stateroom for Vargr usage, and done a quick double-check on her medlab (and its 'guests'), Shui activates her dataglove's intercom link and pages Jago directly.

++ Captain Lanza - the stateroom is prepared and the medlab is prepped for emergency situation.  Is there anything else requiring immediate attention? ++

The Vargr nods energetically at Jago's question, "Second letter is from friend of Oezzarr who leave ship here.  Him get work on other ship, Oezzarr say here... " and again the claw-like nail taps the page of Vargr writing, "... ship name March Dancer.  Hoomaans gives ships strange names, so names easy for me re-mem-ber."

One ear flicks briefly towards the intercomm as Shui's voice sounds from it, then continues, "March Dancer land here three day before Big Deal go out, Oezzarr's friend get work as gunner, then March Dancer stay here five-six days, and Oezzarr is dead.  Con-nery, Oezzarr friend, mail letter when March Dancer reach... ah... what is in Hoomaani?  Ah... Garda Vilis, yes.  March Dancer reach Garda Vilis, and Con-nery give letter to ship come Frenzie.  I get six day after Oezzarr letter, and more two week after Oezzarr dead."

Her gaze fixes on Yas, "Cap-tain Lanza, you help will?"

---

On the Bridge, Conrad works from the pilot position, finding out what he can for Jago, while Saskia tries to place a call to Shata Lunoqi, where a Navy ensign tries to stall her...

---

Tylen, having tidied his cabin to the point where even DiGriz, his old IISS supervisor at Rabwhar, couldn't have complained about it, goes through his workout routine, and takes a shower.  Then, with nothing better to do, he heads out for a coffee, and encounters Shui as she exits the med-bay.

Bored out of his tiny mind Tylen decides to go for a coffee. Wearing his customary tight khaki pants and his customised boots he also sports another in his collection of red T shirts. This is a rich red number with the word "BLUE" in large letters across the chest in a shade of red so close to the original shirt colour as to be almost imperceptible. People who stare at it for long enough tend to get a headache. He steps out of his cabin, almost cannoning into Doctor Shui Tiesi as she comes out of Med Bay.

"Whoa!"

Tylen just manages to stop in time.

"Hi Doc, umm I was just going for a coffee, care to join me?"

His voice sounds hopeful, he hasn't much to do at present and with Jago busy he can't even go and ASK for a job.

Shui is in the midst of kicking herself - mentally - for her faux pas^* as she leaves her room/medical bay.  Perhaps this is why she doesn't notice Tylen until he is almost literally on top of her.  Then he's there, right in front of her, just short of windmilling.  His startled exclamation still hangs in the air.

For her part, Shui looks up, eyes unaccountably wide, face pale and rigid.  Oddly enough, she doesn't step back.  Instead, her body's reaction is to shift almost imperceptibly, one foot sliding three inches, no more, putting her slightly off Tylen's line; her hands move quickly, one up in front of her face and the other toward his.

Recognition sparks, of both the situation and her crewmate.  Fingertips touch her mouth in consternation, and her other hand slows to brush a small bit of lint off Tylen's blue shirt's shoulder.  "Mr. Ogresh."  Shui blinks, and her porcelain mask cracks with a small smile as she steps back.  "You startled me," she states, unnecessarily, and begins the mental process of kicking again.  Foolishly obvious, inane....

'Danger' past, the adrenaline dump hits, and Shui's smile wavers a little.  Her hands fall - if she holds them up, they will tremble, and she doesn't like that.  Doesn't like that at all.  "A coffee?"  The doctor considers.  Barring a reply from 'Captain Lanza' (whoever might make that call), it might be a good idea.  "Tea for myself, but certainly Mr. Ogresh.  I would be pleased to join you."  Calm her nerves, get to know this new member of the crew better.  It was not so long ago she was a new crewmate herself.

Something more seems called for - she certainly doesn't want to sound 'polite'.  "Very pleased," Shui stresses, with a small nod of her head, the mask gone altogether now.  "Please," she says, stepping from the door with a small motion of her hand toward the galley.

* OOC - I beg forgiveness.  It has been three weeks.  :(

There's something strange in the Doc's reaction, almost a COMBAT reflex. Tylen is a touch wary, but the Doc seems to have it under control. He's a little suprised when she picks the lint off his T shirt, a suprisingly intimate gesture as he comes from a culture where physical contact is minimal between anyone but immediate familiars.

He nods as she gestures for him to lead, again putting him on a cultural wrong foot as he is more used to defering to women.

He hesitates briefly, then leads the way into the Galley. He opens the cupboard, for a straight "Java" man he is confronted by a bewildering selection of Teas.

"Ummm which of these do you take Doc? And how do you like it?"

He busies himself boiling water and dumping Coffee into the machine.

Tylen seems a little uncertain, and Shui continues the mental booting.  Reflexes being what they are, she can't really blame herself...well, truth be told she can.  But there is no sense getting work up about it.  No sense at all.

Pity she doesn't seem to have much sense at the moment.

Still, none of this shows on her face.  Fortunately the tea presents an almost insurmountable problem for him - with over sixteen different types of black and green teas, plus the herbals, it's no wonder he finds himself in over his head.

"There is a yellow jar there labeled 'gen mai cha', Mr. Ogresh," she notes quietly as he busys himself with the kettle and begins to work on brewing fresh coffee.  "One spoon in the small tea strainer."  The doctor slips in to catch the remainder of the foul mass at the bottom of the dispenser in a cup on the off chance that Tylen is one of those - people who prefer to drink tar.  She watches his hands for a moment, shuttling neatly back and forth from machine to grounds, filling, preparing, and activating.

Everything looks to be settling down.  Good.

She wonders briefly about his past work - he certainly seems no stranger to carrying multiple weapons, though his demeanor doesn't suggest a man who enjoys doing so.  Witness his lack at the moment.  Perhaps his former employment simply demanded such precautions, and they have become habitual?  She couldn't miss the faint scent of his perspiration during their near-miss in the hallway - clean and crisp thanks to his shower, rather than the reek of old sweat.  Certainly he has been working, perhaps working out recently.  A covert glance reveals slightly more cleanly cut muscles in his arms.  Definitely working.

"Would you like something with your coffee, Mr. Ogresh?  Biscuits, perhaps?"

Tylen carefully measures the tea into the strainer and sets it to infuse. He carefully cleans out the coffee filter and measures the Blue Mountain Roast in. He rinses the jug and fills the machine with clean water and sets it to brew.

"Biscuit? No thanks Doc,"

He pats his firm stomach,

"Trying to stay in shape after leaving the service is tough enough without developing a sweet tooth!"

He picks up her tea,

"Should be about brewed by now, do you have anything with it?"

He is vaguely aware that there are Teas that you add milk or lemon juice to, but this doesn't seem to be one of them.

Tylen wants to stay in shape, and has the willpower to do it.  Noted and filed.  "Nothing in the tea, Mr. Ogresh," she replies quietly, putting away the plates half-removed from the cupboard.  "It's green - taken without milk or sweetener."  Blue Mountain.  Expensive coffee.

"Evidently you kept yourself in perfect condition in the service, Mr. Ogresh.  Choice or necessity?" she inquires.  It's only a quick bet, and one she is reasonably certain she will win - her mental money lies squarely upon 'both'.

In the tea, some small, light-brown shapes bob to the surface amidst the brewing leaves, and the scent of roasted rice wafts into the air.

Tylen waited patiently as the coffee began to drip into the jug. He listened to the Doc's question and his face split into a grin,

"Well I don't know about perfect Doc, but I guess the Service keeps you pretty fit in case they need you quickly. You're never sure what they're gonna drop on your plate net in the Scouts so it's in your interest to be a little bit fitter than the minimum level required in the contract."

Seeing the drip turn to a trickle he fetched a clean mug.

"After I was injured I knew I'd be removed from the active duty roster no matter what I did, but I guess I used the training to try and prove them wrong. Made no odds. Once they have a question mark against your fitness you're out for good. I couldn't face a desk job so I took my pay off and looked around for work."

He poured the fragrant brew into his mug.

"Well, that's when I heard about this little job and here I am."

"Cap-tain Lanza, you help will?"

The Vargr gets Yas out of the dilemma all on her own, so she grins and says, "If you give us a minute, thanks."

She then turns to Jago and stands up, "A word with you," before nodding to the Vargr again and starts to walk away so that they can converse without the Vargr overhearing it.

If Jago follows she will, once they are "safe", chuckle and shake her head.  "That was close.  So, what do you say?  Shall we do this while we go out there anyway?  Nothign much to loose, and if we get a little back-up..."

Lit or not, a cigar is such a handy thing for hiding a smile, even so, this one has it’s work cut out.

“Yes, we’ll go with it,” he says once out of the room with a solid door between them and the Vargr, “I’ve already had Shui set up a state room, she can stay on board, but keep to the passenger side.”

“A word of caution though, I think that’s she’s a lot smarter than she pretends to be, she knows very well how much space ship she can charter form five Kay, and it wouldn’t surprise me if she’s figured out who’s Captain here.”

“They are a devious bunch these Vargr, I rather like them,” there’s no attempt hid the smile now. “Whether she knows or not, you’ll have to come clean about the captain thing at some point.”

"The Scouts."  Shui nods slowly.  "Yes, I can certainly see how that might be an incentive to remain in top condition."  Not to mention that she, herself, had advised him recently to begin an exercise routine.  It appears he has taken her words to heart - Shui doubts he needed much incentive.

Obviously he had enjoyed his former job immensely.  There was no possible way exercise could alleviate the damage to his nerves - oh, it might mitigate it, but there would always be a residual effect.  The fact that he had tried, however, spoke volumes.  "Better this than driving a truck, as I recall," she muses, moving to pick up her cup of tea.

"Thank you."

The doctor sits again, pondering Tylen's dilemna.  "I am truly sorry you had to leave your former work," she begins, a slight frown on her features.  "Evidently you were at home amoung the Scouts."  She hadn't known he was a Scout before, only that he had been in the Service.  Impressive, that.  "And while their loss is our gain, I suspect you would rather still be amoung them."  A small smile.  "I would not be offended were that the case.  The Scouts must have been like family."

It's hard to leave your past behind, even when you know you must.

"Well, I am a captain.  Or was.  In the Marines!  And she may not figure it out anyway, but maybe I'll have to send the doctor to the stockades just to be sure," Yas replies with chortle and then adds, "besides, it might be true.  I'd probably do the same if it was my sister, and heck, going that long a way wouldn't leave me with 5k even to spend on the hunt."

"Time to make the pup happy then, boss," she then says and returns to tell the Vargr this unless Jago stops her.

Tylen sat back on the couch,

"You could be right Doc, but I couldn't have stayed there for ever. Even without the injury I would only have had a few years left of active service and I don't reckon I'd ever cotton to a desk job."

He sipped the cooling black coffee.

"Working a Trader like this keeps me in space and takes me new places. I like the team here, Jago's cool, Yaz is a marine so she's just nuts Conrad's a Navy guy so he's like 'by the book' but you can rely on him. I don't know Miss Blake too well, she seems kinda a quiet but nice. Then there's you,"

Tylen smiled,

"And you're nice too Doc. You've been real friendly and you don't talk down to me. A lot of Service Docs kinda assume that those of us at the sharp end are just meat, you know, all muscle and no brain. I appreciate you taking the trouble to be sociable."

Shui continues to study Tylen, inobtrusively, over the lip of her cup.  She holds it with both hands, allowing the heat to enter her fingers, more for reasons of comfort than need.  He certainly doesn't seem like the desk job sort - not that he would prove incapable, but that it would chafe.  Fiercely.

"Understandable."  She takes a sip.  "At times, life may pressure us in one direction, and it is a good thing to realize there are other options open in which one may better flourish."  Were she philosophically bent, Shui might make a comment about flowers opening, but no.

Tylen's assessment raises one eyebrow, and Shui looks down into her tea for a moment, studying the rice as it floats.  Then she raises her gaze, her head cocking slightly, a hint of a smile on her face.  "Hardly 'trouble'," she opens quietly.  "I am pleased you mesh so well with the crew - I have been on many vessels where small personality conflicts quickly grew into large ones.  The Profit Margin seems to have escaped that issue until now, and with your coming, along with Mr. Dietz, the trend continues.  I can assure you that your assessment of Ms. Blake is correct; she is worthy of respect, for both her skills and her wholesome nature."  Shui agrees wholeheartedly with his thoughts the others, though she knows little of Conrad up to this point.  But he does seem very reliable, despite his problem at the bar, and Jago evidently trusts him.

She shifts in her chair, relaxing more and leaning back.  "It has been my experience that there are many kinds of intelligence in this universe.  One very small part of it comes from research.  A larger portion develops from experience."  For a moment, a drop of acid enters her voice.  "Anyone who looks down upon Soldiers and Scouts as 'brainless' merely demonstrates their own lack of growth."

She nods her head in apology for her caustic comment.  "I am sorry, Mr. Ogresh.  I have stumbled across such opinions within the academia before, and they never cease to amaze me.  Much of my experience has come out here -" this with a wave of her hand to the ship "- and while it has nowhere near the length and breadth of that of a Scout -" no false modesty here, merely a statement of fact "- it has given me enough that I understand your expertise and wisdom, and that of Ms. Crowe as well."

Dumb marines?  Brainless scouts?  The ones still alive could never be so classified.

Shui is rambling, she knows.  Talking too much; it's unusual for her.  She thins her lips with mild embarassment.  "Your pardon - I pontificate."  Her fingers drum on the table for an instant before they still.  "I am not casually social, Mr. Ogresh.  But here, in the Profit Margin, I find myself more at ease with the conversations.  And the people," she notes, with emphasis.  Again, she cups the tea with both hands and her shoulders lose the tightness they had gained with her exasperation.

"Does your injury bother you often?" she inquires after a moment, a hint of embarassment in her for her lengthly speech.

Tylen listens and nods, sipping the rich coffee.

"To be honest Doc it hasn't bothered me that much at all. It's not like it really affects me, but in the Service you got to be 100%. Peoples lives depend on it, and if you get broken they can't risk you not being A1."

He laughed.

"It's like being a Sports car. most of the time you just drive to the shops and back, but you know that if you were going to race you've got the technology and the power to handle it. Once you've crashed the car, you can still drive it to the shops and back, but you'd be a mite wary about trusting it in a race."

He finished the Coffee.

"So that's me Doc, a second hand sports car, broken goods."

He sounded jovial, but there was a tightness round his eyes that spoke of how deeply he felt the loss of his old life. He shook his head and gave a forced laugh.

"How about you Doc? You grow up wanting to be a medic on an independent cargo hauler or have you got a tale to tell."


OOC: I actually have no idea what Tylens injury was. Has it been mentioned before I played him and is it relevant?

Saskia lets out a long, ragged breath, and sits back, staring at the console.  "Well, he let me speak to his Captain, at last.  Now I think I need to speak to mine.  Frell!"

One fist hammers down on the panel, though the ffect is ruined slightly when habit forces the engineer to sit forward again and check for damage.

"It's turned into a shooting war now, Conrad."

Tylen's good humor about his lack of fortune is a trifle overdone - pushed out, rather then opened up.  Shui can feel the strain, the effort it takes for him to see the logic behind it and more, to understand the logic.  Part of him, the conscious, thinking side, obviously does.  Another part only knows that he has lost something precious, had it stolen from him, and will never get it back.  And that part of him bleeds for it.

"To be honest Doc it hasn't bothered me much at all."  She wonders to whom he lies, and decides it is likely himself, rather than her.  Her eyes widen slightly, though, at his final, cutting assessment of his own worth.  That sparks anger somewhere deep below her quiet serenity.

"Myself?  Does not everyone have a story?"  Rhetorical question, only used as a bridge.  "Mr. Ogresh...I feel I should point out something important.  I am the medical officer of this ship.  As such, I have access to all files and records regarding the past events on the Profit Margin that may have had significant events on the health of the crew."  She leans forward, suddenly serious, and places her cup of tea on the table.  "This ship has been in a great deal of trouble in its time.  Military-level trouble, one might say.  I feel reasonably certain it will enter into similar trouble in the future.  Captain Lanza," she continues, in a quiet, firm voice, "needs to be able to depend on his crew.  He is a solid judge of character and ability - he would have to be, for the ship to have survived through what I have seen in the files."  The doctor meets the former Scout's gaze unflinchingly.  "His crew are carefully picked from those he feels he can not only trust in a race, but trust to win it."  Now she smiles slightly, and picks up her tea.  "Unconstrained by a bureaucracy's rules, he can assess the individual rather than use a checklist."

The doctor leans back.  "But that is my opinion, nothing more.  I do not seek an argument."  Immediately she breaks off the subject, not wishing to make Tylen any more uncomfortable than he likely already is.  "Myself, I have been a fixture aboard tramp freighters since I left home."  Another hint of a smile.  "That would be some fourteen years ago.  Obviously the bulk of my training was through apprenticeship and computer courses.  I can assure you, though, that I am quite competent."  Shui shrugs dismissively, an odd gesture coming from her.  "My parents own farms on an agricultural world, and I simply could not see myself continuing the family business.  I suspect they are...."  Here Shui pauses, as if searching for an appropriate word to convey the depth of feeling.  Failing, she twitches her head slightly, her smile twisted.  "...saddened."

Tylen breaks into a smile at her comments.

"Nice of you to say that Doc, guess that does make me kind of special."

He laughs,

"Well a race car, even a dented one, can still win provided it has a good team. I reckon my team has a great mechanic Doc and I'll do my best not to let anyone down."

He nods at her comments on herself,

"My folks weren't to pleased to see me vanish off into space either. It's hard to live up too our families expectations, even when what we achieve is so much greater."

He moves to the sink and rinses his cup.

"If the opinion of a simple grunt is of any value to you, you're a great counsellor Doc."

When Yas reenters the lounge, Dhakhingzuel is still sitting in the same place, reading her brother's letter.

The Vargr is more than happy, when Yas breaks the news to her.  "We will find killers of Oezzarr, destroy them, like sick gnaerrhuff."  Then she sniffs at the letter, before neatly folding it and returning it to her jacket pocket.

"They kill my brother, I will see them die!  Family chakickt say must do this.  You under-stand family honour, Cap-tain."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:28, Thu 21 Sept 2006.

(NPC'd)

Conrad shakes his head at Saskia's news.  Ships attacking relatively defenceless systems, with plenty of profit from a successful raid, is one thing.  If they're getting bold enough to attack Naval vessels, that's something else entirely.  Things are escalating a little too quickly.

He mashes the intercom switch, "Jago, can you come to the Bridge, soon as the Captain's done.  Got someething to show you, regarding that info you wanted."

"Ya betcha.  I'd do the same in your, uh, fur," Yas says with a nod and then gestures towards the cabins.  "Your state room awaits you, you should find msot comforts in there, even if we perhaps are not specialised in Vargr standard.  We did have a Vargr with us for quite some time, though, and I think we learnt something from that."

She nods affirmatively and wonders wheter the Vargr is honest or not.  Sooner or later they will find out, but she certainyl can relate to the family honour.  She would kick any pirate scum across the galaxy if they had killed her sister, spreading them out bit by bit over the parsecs.

Shui nods, her own smile small but warm.  "That is all Captain Lanza will ask, of course...because he obviously puts enough stock in our best to assume it is sufficient.  Given who you are, with what I know of you, may I be so bold as to say that your best is most certainly what you offer?"

For a moment a shadow of concern crosses her own face, but she banishes it.  Standing, Shui moves to the kettle to add more hot water.  "Parents are rarely pleased to see their children leave the nest...though there are notable exceptions," she amends wryly.  "As for achieving greater...."

For a long moment Shui stares off into space, through the blank wall of the galley.  Then she hisses; her hand has twitched, and some of the hot water from the kettle dripped onto her fingers.  The doctor examines the red spot with one raise eyebrow, notes the lack of any serious damage, and sighs.  "It is more than possible that my siblings have saved more lives with their work than I ever will with mine," she murmurs.

A shake of the head dismisses that part of the conversation as unimportant.  As Tylen moves to the sink, Shui leans against the counter to keep up the eye contact - it's important during speech, she believes.  "Well, I believe we have been over the 'simple grunt'...."  One eyebrow arches, but she smiles.  "It means a great deal.  I hope I do not come across as too forward - there is nothing more irksome than endless, unwanted advice on how to live one's life."  She grimaces.  "My opinions are my own - feel free to disregard them for your own life, should you so wish."

"So to what duties will you vanish now, Mr. Ogresh?"

"To be honest Doc, I'm at a loose end. Anything you need help with?"

Tylen seems reluctant to return to his cabin,

"At loose ends."  Shui nods, firmly.  "Very well.  Since you have volunteered, I would ask if you could show me your trade, Mr. Ogresh."  Slightly embarassed, she glances away, then turns back to face him with determination.  "I make it a habit to learn the basics of the other positions aboard the ship, and I would like to see the particulars of yours.  Added redundancy, in the case of an emergency -" she pauses, then amends "- non-fatal, of course, is critical."  Her mood softens, and she smiles.

"If that is agreeable to you, of course."

She stands, then a thought occurs to her.  "Do you have any other family, Mr. Ogresh?  Beyond a pair of perhaps-disapproving parents?"

As Yasmin turns her attention to the crew lounge, Jago heads the other way to check on progress on the bridge. He’s a little surprised to see Saskia there, making a rare, but very welcome visit to this end of the ship. Jago doesn’t try to hide his smile here, but it fades a bit when he sees that Saskia has her serious head on.

“Everything all right Saskia?”

Tylen looked the Doctor in the eye, his deep blue eyes had gone very still.

"You want to learn my trade Doc? Are you sure? Remember what I do on this ship Doc..."

He blinked once.

"'Cos you're asking to learn how to kill."

"Define all right, please.  Shata Lunoqi is on the run.  I spoke to her CO, who's an old friend of mine from my Service days.  Seems she got into a scrap with a pack of Swordies, at Saurus, which is this side of the border."

"Five to one odds, but she managed to take out two of those Gotterdamerung type frigates before she had to run for it." and here there is a distinct note of pride in Saskia's voice,  Imperial ships have a small technical advantage over Sword World ones, but it's Imperial training that makes the big difference.

"Anyway, her Jump Drives were damaged and she couldn't get back to her base at Lanth.  She could only make Jump-3, so she came in here, since even without repairs, Giata, that's her Captain figured she could make the two short Jumps to Frenzie instead of the one long Jump to Lanth."

"It's what I would have done, in their position."

Profit Margin's Engineer looks worried.  "Problem comes if there's a bunch of Swordies on her tail, because they might have worked it out too."

For a long moment, there is a terribly bleak look in the Doctor's eyes.  "Yes.  I suppose I am," she whispers.

Then she blinks, and they warm.  "Or I would be, were I expecting to have to use such weapons in a lethal fashion.  But Mr. Ogresh - certainly there are ways to disable vehicles without harming the crew?  After all, pirates do it.  The Law Enforcement does it."  Her smile is twisted with irony...and not a little bit of hopefulness.

"I realize that these are not efficient means of using our ship's weapons," she continues quietly.  "But should push come to shove, and I am the only one availible, would it not be best if I could offer some kind of hope of at least driving off an enemy?"

Tylen looked at her with a half amused look.

"That's kinda like the old stories about the good guy shooting the gun out of his enemies hand. Firstly it's awful risky, I mean you're limiting yourself to a tiny target and if you miss your opponent's gonna shoot you back. Second, going back to the original analogy, if you hit a guy in the hand with a .45 he don't stand there cussing and blowing on his fingers. Like as not his hand will be smashed beyond repair, leaving him crippled at best or possibly dead from concussive shock, simple blood loss or infection. You can TRY to minimise the damage you cause with ship mounted ordinance, but I wouldn't advise it unless you're up against an unarmed ship, and even then your basically trying to punch holes in their hull, which ain't conducive to survival in hard Vac. Let me tell you, Pirates don't care who gets killed and, unless you're running in an unarmed ship, Neither do the Law."

He looked at her again, his eyes softening.

"No Doc, you strike me as a lady who would want to do any job she did to the best of her ability. If you climb into a turret you gotta know that if you do your work right some poor S.O.B. is gonna die."

"I'm aware of the difference between the vids and the truth of firefights, Mr. Ogresh," Shui states a trifle frostily.  She has patched up gaping knife wounds and deep sword thrusts.  She has closed the gaping tears left by high-velocity rounds, and sealed (as best one can) the flash-craters of beam weapons.  She knows about weapons, about the horrendous damage they cause, even when 'shooting to wound'.  If anyone actually does that.

But she's being unfair.  She hadn't considered that pinpoint accuracy would not be possible, even with the ship's systems.  ECM, evasive tactics, all of these things work against computers and human reflexes.  And the ship is a body, of course - a hole in it will leak.  Possibly slowly, possibly with catastrophic swiftness.

The doctor passes her right hand before her eyes, then places it palm down on the table, beside her left.  She stares between them at the hard surface.  "I apologize, Mr. Ogresh."  Her voice is quiet.  "That was completely unwarrented.  You were merely assisting me in learning the reality of the situation."  Her quiet laugh is entirely without humour.  "I expect I proved quite well why I would require instruction?  Obviously I know little to nothing about ship to ship combat."

Tylen grinned,

"No offence taken Doc, just pointing out the spiritual and emotional drawbacks of my job."

He offered her his arm.

"If your dead set on it I guess you might as well come take a look at the turret."

"I carry a pistol, Mr. Ogresh, that I load with non-lethal ammunition."  Shui sighs.  "I do not know if I could even use the turret, as you have pointed out."  She closes her eyes, then stands.  "But it would prove an interesting diversion to view the place where you work.  I believe that in my time aboard the Profit Margin I have never actually visited the turret."

And he is a gentleman.  Jago.  Corlan.  Tylen.  The Profit Margin fairly abounds with gentlemen, who likely do not consider themselves such.  With a little bow, Shui takes his arm, a slight flush on her face as she fumbles for the proper hold - embarassing, but it is not a normal part of her own culture.  "Lead on, Mr. Ogresh."

Tylen lead her away to "His" turret. It had been "His" in his mind ever since Jago had accepted him on board, just as the other turret he mentally labelled "Hers". He wondered if he could get a couple of door plaques made up, it was the kind of joke that would appeal to Yas he was sure.

He opened the hatch and squatted down, leaving room so the Doctor could see inside.

"There ain't much room in here, so I'll just point things out. OK, Yas's turret has a couple of heavy duty plasma guns. They hit pretty hard but you gotta be fairly close. 'Course fairly close in space is about 15000 klics or so. Down here I got a pretty mixed bag. Mainly I got two launchers, one offensive that fires missiles. Jago's got us loaded with conventional explosive. The other launcher is defensive, called a "Sandcaster". Basically fires a cloud of tiny bits of junk, good for breaking up lazer fire or intercepting missiles.
 Just so I don't get bored when I run out of missiles I've also got a lazer. That gives us range out to about 150,000 klics, but it don't do anywhere near the damage a plasma gun does.

 He points to the controls.

"The yoke controls the turret orientation, bit like an aircar or a video game. I don't know how Yas has hers set up but I have the lazer trigger on the right stick and the launchers triggered from the left. The toggle on the top of the left stick switches weapons. Displays are positioned to match, the two indicators on the left show how much ammunition is left in the launchers, red for missile, yellow for "Sand". On the right you have two diplays for the Lazer, one is charge and the other is temperature. You don't want to let either go red. If they do, you gotta lay off the lazer to let it charge or cool down. Otherwise it's pretty simple. The central display gives you visual targetting. If it's under the crosshairs the lazer will hit it. If you flip the toggle on the top of the right stick the lazer can be used to guide the missile. It fires continuous on low power. you just keep the target in the crosshairs while the missile is running and the guidance system does the rest."

He pauses.

"That's basically it."

Shui frowns, face intent, crouched easily on the balls of her feet and staring down into the turret.  She slowly nods when Tylen finishes his explanation.  "I see.  That certainly makes things clear, Mr. Ogresh."  Her smile is ironic.  "And I am aware that it is hardly a video game."

"However," she continues, standing up, "the Sandcaster gives me hope that I might actually be of defensive use, should something go wrong.  At least I can attempt to stall any incoming strikes."  The smile grows a touch, and she nods.  "Thank you."  Another glance down into the turret.

"It looks rather cramped," she notes.  "It must be dreadfully uncomfortable when you tense, as well."

"An' jus' to add to your worries, Jago," Conrad adds, smiling apologetically at the captain, "I found somethin' in the records here.  A distress call 'bout ten, eleven years back.  The ship was never found, though, an' I can't find a ref'rence in the Library data.  That wouldn't rule out a really bad misjump though, one that maybe came in from outside Imperial space, or just somewhere inside, but so far away nobody made the link."

The Vargr stands in front of Yas, and gives an oddly formal bow, ears laid flat, tail low, hands clasped behind her back.  "I have been on Hoomaan ship be-fore, Cap-tain.  Was most comf-fort-able, but colours not bright like on Vargr ship.  I am sure will be satis-fact-tory."

"Here is Credits, as agree."

Dhakingzuel unfastens a pocket on the sleeve of her jacket, and pulls a flat package from within.

"My thanks to you, Cap-tain Lanza.  And from Oezzarr's spirit, thanks also."

Tylen looked down into the turret.

"I guess you build up a tolerance for tight spaces or you don't get through Gunnery School. It's pretty snug, but the G-Couch kinda molds to you and absorbs most of the tension."

He shrugged,

"Leastways I find it so."

He laughed as a thought hit him.

"Hey Doc, does this mean you're gonna teach me what you do? Guess that'll take a wee bit longer, like about three years in med school huh?"

"That would be up to you, Mr. Ogresh.  I'm certain you have some training in first aid, but I believe that anyone could use a refresher course.  Perhaps some tips."  She glances down into the turret.  "Though I suspect it would take more than this for me to 'master' use of your console.  Perhaps several hundred hours of simulations, and several actual combat scenarios?"  The doctor shrugs, obvious acquainted with the idea that while learning is one thing, experience is what solidifies a skill.

"Should you so desire, I am certainly availible for lessons," she notes.  "I, myself, would require a refresher course in the use of your equipment once we are underway."  She crouches again, staring down at the joysticks, the screen.  "Looking is one thing - actually doing is quite another.  The reason a Kwoon-trained martial artist fails against someone with experience in actual fighting."

"Of course I could always give you the computer programs and lessons.  But they are dreadfully dull."  Shui shudders at the memory, then laughs.  "I jest, Mr. Ogresh.  Poorly.  I would not truly expect you to attempt to learn surgery, any more than you would expect me to have the proper trained reflexes to pilot a hypervelocity missle into an attacking ship."

Tylen smiles,

"Kwoon trained? I thought your reflexes were good in the corridor earlier."

He offers her a little bow.

"If I had known I would have asked sooner, but if ever you feel a spar against a real opponent would help keep you on your toes then I'd be honoured. Whilst I'm no specialist I have a smattering of Praying Mantis Kung-Fu and a good grounding in Karate as well as a little Ju Jitsu."

Jago’s face remains expressionless he looks from Saskia to Conrad and then to the long. Sloping screen with its view across the desolate concrete and the bleak looking town beyond.

“First priority is to get fueled up, how soon can we move Saskia, it’s just across the port here?

Shui's smile remains on her face, and she cocks her head to the side.  Her eyes are oddly blank for a long moment, then warm with interest.  "What a fascinating array of styles.  You are trained in submission techniques, grappling and so forth, then?  Useful.  Perhaps you could teach me those skills."  She sighs.  "I fear what little skill I possessed in that area has long since abandoned me."

Her smile grows a trifle lop-sided.  "I was never very good at such things.  I am not, however, surprised that you have had such training as a Scout.  Or did you receive it in childhood?"  Her interest is obvious.

Returning the bow, such as it was, Yas nods and says, "Just let us know if you need something."

With that she turns and makes her way onto the bridge, catching a few phrases as she enters.

"Hey, lovebirds, are you two talking martial arts without me?  Aw, you're breaking my heart here!" she calls out towards Sushi and Quad before turning to Sassy, Conrad and Jago.

"Ya, boss.  The little pup seems happy.  I take it from you faces that things aren't that happy around here, though?" she tells Jago and looks over the faces of the others.  If they had good news then she is certain she does not wish to hear the bad news.

Tylen colours slightly at Yas's remarks and turns quickly to the Doc,

"I hope you didn't think I meant anything disrespectful Doc, this wasn't meant to be a 'Come down to my Turret and I'll show you my armament' kinda pick up line"

He takes a breath, swallows and continues,

"Same with the martial arts, I wasn't trying anything on OK? I just wondered if you wanted to like practise..."

He stopped, and grinned.

"I'm kinda babbling here Doc. Yas's humour can do that. Marines, well they spend a lot of time squabbling for dominance you know, kinda wolfpack thing. So they often put each other down, they're just being friendly but they can be a little...boisterous. It don't work that way in the Scouts, we spend a lot of time alone or in very small teams. You tend to avoid anything that might cause a conflict with the only person you got to talk to in those situations."

"You too?  Just because I'm an ex marine you slot me in, just like that?" Yas says, turning to look at Tylen and puts both hands on her hips as she makes a dramatic pause.  "I will tell you, if I hadn't been one of those all-cast-in-the-same-mold-same-as-everyone-else marine, then that would have insulted me!"

"By the way, you scouts do it alone, I here!"  Another pause.  "I mean, work, live, scout..."

"Oh, and unless I'd be the third wheel, I'd be happy to be part of those practices," she finishes with her usual grin.

Shui blinks in confusion as the conversation suddenly goes south, Yas' interruption dragging it off into territory she hadn't considered.  'Lovebirds?'  That eyebrow twitches again.

At times, Yas' particular brand of humor can be quite trying....

But Tylen is quick to refute, clarifying matters in no uncertain terms.  His parody of a pickup line is amusing enough that she covers her mouth to hold back a quick laugh.  But the gravity of the situation sinks in moments later.

Dominance.  He is correct.  Her eyes narrow slightly as she realizes what Yas is doing, consciously or subconsciously.  As Tylen continues his rapid denials, she considers the results.  With one quip, Yas has defended her 'territory'.  It hardly matters that Tylen and her are not intimate - the fact is that with a schoolyard jibe, Ms. Crowe has attempted to ensure that nothing WOULD happen.

Again, consciously or not.

And Tylen is reacting just as he said a Scout would.  Backing down, avoiding conflict with both Yas and herself.  She absently wonders how often this has happened between Scouts and marines, and how the marines might have an entirely false perception of the Scouts because of it.  It irritates her, and it irritates her more that Yas has managed to get under her skin.

"Should I be offended, Mr. Ogresh?" Shui inquires deliberately.  "You seem hasty to deny any possibility of a 'pick-up line'.  Am I that offensive?"  But then she smiles, her head cocked to the side.  "'Show you my armament'.  Have you even heard that used as a pick-up, Mr. Ogresh?  I suspect you would be more subtle than that."  A genuine laugh, then, if a quiet one, and she shakes her head.

"I am well acquainted with Ms. Crowe's humour," she continues.  "And it was I who asked you to show me your armament, so to speak."  The smile quirks slightly at the reiteration of Tylen's comment.  "Regarding the submission techniques and so forth - I am interested in learning them.  Though I suspect I will be a poor student.  For that, I am at your disposal."  A small nod accompanies the acceptance of his offer.

Her eyes dart toward Yas for an instant.  "You seem acquainted with the marine brand of humor, Mr. Ogresh, so I suspect your confusion and concern is regarding myself.  While I admit I have difficulty keeping up with Ms. Crowe on occasion, I can assure you that her humor has yet to make me think poorly of anyone else."

At that, she raises her voice.  "Should you wish to join our discussion, Ms. Crowe, you are more than welcome."

Tylen is again wrong footed. Whilst the Doc is quiet she seems to have strength of will that her passive demeanour conceals. His estimation and admiration of her rises as she counters Yas's quips with a challenge of her own, a technique that bears comparison with the martial arts she mentioned earlier. He considers her proposal for a second,

"If by 'Submission' you mean non-lethal restraint tactics then I'd be happy to go through some with you Doc. The Scouts are trained for situations where it might not be too wise to bust up Civilians who you are trying to negotiate with. That kind of stuff would probably be what you are looking for."

He feels that there is more he should say, but finds the correct form of words awkward.

"I didn't mean to suggest you weren't attractive Doc. I'm sure you get your share of guys trying corny lines and stuff."

Damn, he thinks, that sounded so LAME!

"Precisely, Mr. Ogresh," Shui confirms, satisfied.  "'Non-lethal restrain tactics' would be exactly what I require.  And I can truly understand the need when one is a Scout - preliminary diplomatic relations being what they are."

He stumbles less now, the discomfort mostly past.  Mostly.  Apparantly she was too serious earlier, or Yas' 'joke' has made him hypersensitive.  Shui castigates herself, silently - she should have expected that.  She suspects that normally he would normally be smooth with a compliment.  At this time though, he no doubt feels trapped - caught between a desire to rectify any possible insult he might have given, while at the same time attempting to ensure there can be no possibility of 'misunderstanding'.  Seemingly unable to balance those two poles (and realistically, who could?  One must choose one or the other), Tylen produces a fumbling, backhanded compliment.

All thanks to Yas' stray comment.  It certainly did its work.

There are a myriad replies she might make to it, but the vast majority would drag the situation out, and put Tylen in an even worse position.  Shui opts for the simple method.  She smiles and shakes her head.  "Mr. Ogresh, I hardly see you as the sort of person who would gratuitously insult.  A bit of my own humor - regretfully difficult to recognize.  Nothing more.  When would it be possible to have these lessons?" she finishes, obviously curious.

Dismiss, change subject.

"Power plant's warming up now, Jago.  Give it twenty minutes, and I can let you have enough juice to run the thrusters.  After this, I can leave it hot the whole time we're here."

Saskia transfers the data from Engineering to the console where she sits, scrutinises it for a moment, as if daring the drives to let her down, then continues, "Locals might not like having a fusion plant running at full capacity on their field, but I'm willing to bet their tech isn't advanced enough to have the gear to spot it anyway, not through our shielding.  I know we've got no leaks.  No leaks, means nothing gets out to detect, apart from the occasional stray neutrino."

She switches the display back to Conrad's preferences, "And my guess is that they probably wouldn't know a neutrino if it walked up and politely introduced itself."

Relief washes over Tylen as the Doctor skilfully changes the subject.

"Well, whenever you got a moment Doc."

He cocks his ear,

"Though to me that sounds like we're warming up for take off."

He checks his comlink, but it is switched on and not registering any missed transmission.

"That's odd, I've heard nothing from the Boss. Do you think we should take a stroll up to the bridge and see what's going on?"

'Whenever you have a moment' could be translated any number of ways.  Shui chooses to take it at face value, suspecting Tylen means what he says, and nothing more.  "Very well, Mr. Ogresh.  I shall call upon you when it is convenient."  Could be tricky.  There are always things to do, and Shui finds that unless one makes a schedule....

Well, regardless of that, she will make the attempt.

The doctor frowns at Tylen's obvservation.  "I concur."  As steward, she should keep herself abreast of the situation aboard the ship.  "To the bridge, then."
This message was last edited by the player at 14:59, Sat 23 Sept 2006.

"It was the excersices I was interested in, not the talk, even if it is easy enough to listen in from over here," Yas replies with a shake of her head.  Sometimes she gets the impression that people indeed put her in a slot just because of what she once was.  But then, she is used to that.

She shrugs and decides that the ship will not fall to pieces if she goes to get herself a cup of hot cocoa.

Soon she sits in her favourite spot holding a cup of cocoa while appearing to be lost in thoughts.

This message was deleted by the player at 11:53, Mon 02 Oct 2006.

It takes about seventeen minutes before Saskia is able to give Jago the power he needs to move the ship across to the water's edge.  Sliding the ship across the field is easy.  The only potential difficulty is the layer of ice on the surface of the sea.

As Profit Margin drops onto rimed sand, a second ship swings in across the field.  She hovers nearby, and the comm system crackles to life, "Ore Hound to Profit Margin...  This is Jockram, requesting permission to join the sunbathing.  Maybe come and have a little talk, private, like?"

(NPC'd)

"Give him permission to come aboard, Conrad.  Yas, he's your contact, go collect him at the ramp, and I'll meet him in the forward crew lounge."

He considers for a moment, then, "Saskia, you said you'd keep her powered up, right?  Okay.  Tylen, I want you in the belly turret, while he's aboard, just in case."

Something is going on in this system, and Jago isn't going to take chances.

Tylen nods,

"Roger Skip!"

He makes his way to his turret and straps in. It takes a second to power up the displays, but soon he is online. He triggers the comlink to Jago.

"Green to go Captain."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:07, Sat 30 Sept 2006.

Nodding while sipping her cocoa, Yas ambles off to meet the man of the hour.  She passes straight to the ramp without stopping and begins to lower it with the typical noise that lets everyone know that, yes, the ramp is still working.

Once it is lowered she walks down the ramp and settles down to wait for Jocky the Ram himself while enjoying her cocoa.  Not the best of beaches, but it made the cocoa taste all the better.

Jockram, equipped with a cold weather suit and breath mask approaches the ramp were Yas sits waiting for him.  "Hello again.  I told the boys to stay aboard, figured you'd need me to be alone and unarmed.  Well, here I am."

Behind him, Ore Hound's hatch irises shut.


Yas checks him over and, yes, he does appear to be unarmed as he steps onto the bottom of the ramp.

Tylen flips the com to contact engineering.

"Hey Saskia, you got your ears on girl? can you run a scan on the Ore Hound. She looks to be in rough shape, got a coolant leak or something. We safe sitting this close to her?"

His suspiscions were probably unfounded, but he'd rather be a live fool than a dead one.

Pride of place in the Profit Margin’s forward crew lounge, is a large picture of a brightly coloured Vargr ship, disintegrating in a fire ball. Jago lifts it down and slips it into his cabin out of sight before following Yas into the cargo bay.

Jago greets the other Captain at the top of the ramp with a smile and an outstretched hand, “come on in,” he says cheerily, showing the way to the forward crew lounge, can I get you a coffee or something?”

When Jockram approaches, Yas gets up and grins at him.

"So, you thought I want you alone and unarmed, eh?  I don't mind guys packing guns, but, yes, perhaps it can be a good thing at this occasion."

"Good to see you."

"By the way, maybe we could have Sassy, our engineer, peek at that ship of yours?  She's leaking here and there, I see.  Your ship, that is!  Mind you, we had better ask her first too!  Ask Sassy, that is," she says with a chuckle and then offers to follow him and Jago to the crew lounge, happy to close up the ramp.

"I got it Tylen." Saskia replies over the intercom.

"It does look like coolant gasses, and it's fairly warm, but I'm not picking up any radiation.  Might be that they just have an older, less efficient heat exchanger, and have to purge the system every so often."

She runs a finger across the controls board, dragging a set of readouts into a more central position, and adding a warning telltale.  "I'll keep an eye on it though."

The gas is currently venting from the other ship in sporadic jets, at a little over three-fifty Kelvin.  Hot enough to scald a person caught in a plume, but not particularly dangerous.  If the temperature spikes too high, or she starts to detect radiation, she'll yell for help.

Jago and Yas lead Jockram into the forward lounge, where the asteroid miner gives a long, low whistle of appreciation.  "And this is the crew lounge?  It's almost bigger than my whole damned ship!" he jokes, then smiles apologetically, "Ah... forgive me Captain.  I don't get to spend much time aboard merchies, and a seeker, like Ore Hound is a lot more... snug."

"So... are you interested in my offer of help?"

"I can tell you are impressed," Yas says with a grin and then repeats her own offer, "since you completely forgot the offer that I can ask Sassy if she would like to take a quick peek at your ship.  We wouldn't want it failing at a critical time now, would we?"

She winks at him and then adds, "I can't of course promise anything, buy if Sassy herself and Jago agrees..."  She looks over at Jago first, since he is there in the lounge with them.

"As for your help, personally I think an extra gun is always welcome, but again, I can't promise anything there either."

Tylen scrolls his systems and ensures the Laser is on line and charged. Without activating the targetting system he runs a complete weapons check, but does not power down the Laser.

Shui, on her way out of the bridge area, steps into the crew lounge.  She halts at the sight of Jago and Yasmine with their guest.  Uncertain of the current 'Captain' situation, and not willing to make a larger mess of things than she already has, she glances between the heaviset Captain and the lively Marine.

Wait.  Captain Lanza said he would meet him in the lounge.  That would indicate...  In this case, it is Captain Lanza, the man.

Her head is beginning to ache from the strain of keeping it all straight.  She isn't certain how Jago or Yasmine do it.  Some impressive mental juggling....

"Captain.  Officer."  It seems safest, just in case there was a change.  "Good afternoon.  Coffee or tea, anyone?"  Moving to the counter, she begins to brew a fresh pot, while putting on the kettle for either tea or more cocoa for Yasmine.

Jago listens to Yasmin openly embracing this other captain as a friend, and wonders when it was that he became so cynical. Thinking back though, he decides he was probably born that way. Yasmin seems to see this guys offer of help as an offer of help, Jago sees it as part of an elaborate trap, maybe it had something to do with a ninety two million credit mortgage he’s trying to pay off.

“Hello Shui,” Jago says, wondering why she used the title that she knew he didn’t like, but grateful to saved from answering the other captain for the moment, “this is Jockram, captain of the ‘Ore Hound’, and this is Miss Tiesi, our doctor.” Jago slips naturally into introduction mode while reconsiders the other mans offer. “I’ll have a coffee please; can we get you anything Jockram?”

“So tell me then Jockram, what’s your take on the situation here? The more I look in to it, the less it looks like simple piracy.”

"Coffee would be good, yes." the miner replies, smiling, "We don't have much in the way of facilities over on the Hound, so you won't catch me refusing hospitality."

He turns his attention to Yas, "Well now, if your engineer took a look at my ship, I think I'd be looking for a new engineer of my own in about two minutes.  Hegerich... well, no offence to anybody, but you know how engineers can be, about their engines?  He'll most likely question me when I get back, anyways, in case I spoke to any engineers while I was here, or even saw one, in the distance, on the way over, like."

"Look up paranoid in your Library sometime... I bet there's a holo of Hegerich looking back at you."  He is grinning as he says it, so chances are that he's joking.

"As for the extra gun... you look to be armed for tragyar yourselves, from what I saw on the way in.  But, yeah, I can bring an extra laser to the party.  Two-fifty megaWatt pulse cannon.  It's built for mining, but it'll punch holes in a ship just as easy as it does in an asteroid."

"Sure, it's not a lot, but with two ships, any raiders out there'll have twice as much to worry about."

Back to Jago then, "Notice I said raiders not pirates.  I think this is Swordies or somebody.  Commercial pirates wouldn't come here... you seen the place?  There's nothing for them."

"But... if I was looking to mount a raid in some system, say Frenzie, or Garda Vilis maybe, I'd send a small ship here to make trouble... try and distract as many Navy ships as I could.  Keep my task force over there, way out in the Cometary Zone, and watch for lots of Jumps going out.  Once the local garrison ships Jump, to come over here and hunt pirates, you've got two weeks to run riot through that system."

One finger traces a series of lines and curves on the coffee table, an imaginary diagram, invisibly illustrating his reasoning.

"That way, pirates in a place like this makes sense, see?  No Naval presence, so if you want them dealt with, you have to pull the ships from somewhere else."

"Oh, thanks, Miss." he accepts the coffee from Shui, and breathes in the aroma gratefully.

Satisfied that Jago is in Captain mode, rather than Yasmine, Shui gives the newcomer a short bow.  "Thank you, Captain Lanza-" her more normal style of address "-and you are most welcome, Captain Jockram."  Both to the ship, and to the coffee, the steward seems to imply.  A coffee (with his preferred choice of additives) is shuttled to Jago as well, and Shui raises one thin eyebrow, just a hair, at Yasmine's cocoa.

"A warm-up, Ms. Crow?" she inquires quietly, poised to mix the dark, sweet brew.  All the while she considers the other captain's words, and tries to get her head around the reasoning.  She does have some background in poli-sci, but this is getting a little too convoluted for someone who isn't fully appraised of the background.

It seems to make sense, though...which is probably why she hears her father's voice yammering at her.  Why does it bother me that a mining ship is in such poor condition?

That's something that worries her.

"Excuse me a moment."  Standing at the cocoa, more behind the Captains, she motions with her head.  "Ms. Crow, may I speak with you for one moment?  It concerns our passenger."

Not precisely a lie.

Jago chuckles at the other captains quip about his engineer, while feeling deeply grateful that he had Saskia on board the ‘Margin’.

Jockram’s raider theory made sense, Jago had discounted the Zhodani initially as he could think of nothing of strategic interest here, but now mentally kicks himself for overlooking what now seemed very obvious. Even so, Jago is an old cynic and doesn’t discount the possibility that he’s just being lured into a trap. The theory explained a lot, but didn’t cover all the bases, the two victims were both lured to their doom buy external factors, not just jumped when passing through the system.

“Do you think it would be as easy as just flying out there to the position of the last know attack, it’s a big system,” Jago stalls a little in the hope of finding out what Shui has to add.

"I figured," Yas says with a grin, knowing that engineers were a kind of their own, "but I thought I'd ask anyway."

Since mining rarely makes people rich enough to upgrade their ship without waving goodbye to mining for good she understands why the ship is not in prime condition, and while she hopes that he is on the level she never has given her full trust to anyone, ever, without them having proven themselves first.  But by appearing chummy she might learn things one would not learn by beign suspicious, like dear old Jago.

"Now what is up?" she says to Sushi and gets up to have that private word with the doctor, even if she suspects it is about something slightly different topic than she seem to suggest.

Shui waits until they stand at a distance - perhaps at the edge of the chamber - before beginning.  She doesn't whisper, but merely speaks in a low tone.  Whispers garner attention.  Whispers cause alarm.

"Forgive me, Ms. Crow, but I had a question.  His ship is a mining ship, where he spends long periods of time out in space at an asteroid, yes?"  She looks toward the cockpit, makes a quick motion, and continues in the same, unworried tones.  "If this is the case, why is his ship in such disrepair?  One would suspect that a man whose crew spends so much time floating in the void would labor to keep his vessel in tip-top condition, or as close as he could come."

"Is this...normal?"

Things out of place.  Breaks in the pattern.  Shui's father has been whispering in her ear since she caught wind of the other ship's condition.  But she isn't sure about these things, and thus her question to Yasmine.  Perhaps Shui is merely making an assumption - better to check, and Yasmine is the best bet around to know the answer, as well as being the person who must be informed.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:16, Sun 08 Oct 2006.

Yasmine grins at Sushi and for a moment considers taking her on a wild ride and make her really paranoid, but this is not the Marines and she is not a fresh recruit.

"Absolutely.  They do the mining while drifting and usually onyl do the repairs needed to keep it going.  Once in a while they will have a good but not excellent find and do more repairs, but if they make a big enough find they usually leave mining for good.  So, yeah, it's normal, and they haven't got much to credits spare usually.  Maybe he hopes to make a bit out of this venture too, if the authorities come through on their promise.  The question here is, if he is on our side or not," she explains quietly and quickly, putting a hand on the doc's shoulder to reassure her.

"I've been around and so has my sister, the scout, remember?  This ship is almost in prime condition according to some miners!  Anything else on your mind?" she asks as quietly, but with the grin replaced by a gentle smile.

Abashed, Shui nods her head.  "That was my question as well, and given the state of his ship I wondered if it might not be a trojan horse, or bait."  She shakes her head in bemusement.  "Which is why I asked you...certainly you are far more experienced with this than I."  The fact that she did not wish to cause further problems with unfounded, amateurish accusation is a given.

The situation is embarassing, yes, but Yasmine apparantly doesn't find it laughable.  It helps.  Shui really is out of her normal area of operation here, and knows it.  "Do you," she begins, then pauses.  Her uncertainty is definitely not the norm.  "Do you have any feelings on the matter?" she finally concludes, wondering if the security officer might have noticed something.

Then the doctor thins her lips in self-directed irritation.  "Question for another time, after he has left.  My apologies."  Shui shakes her head - to monopolize Yasmine's time right now would be foolish.  It's a measure of her own irresolution that she even asked.

"Questions are the best way to learn!  At least if one asks the right person, ha!"

"Feelings?  Well, he is somewhat ruggedly handsome," Yas jests and grins, but she continues before the doctor can leave with the hand gently holding her there, "All I can say is that while I hope he is on our side I won't take anything for granted.  There's an old saying that goes something like 'keep your friends close but your enemies closer', and well, if he is the latter, he'll notice it."

"Truth is, the only one you really can count on is yourself, if you're lucky."  She looks Sushi straight in the eyes and seems as if she is serious about this, the smile replaced by a serious face.

The hands comes off the shoulder and the smile returns.

Relieved that Yasmine does not think poorly of her, Shui cocks her head to await further commentary.  Of course Yas does not disappoint, and Shui finds herself glancing toward the miner to check his features.  She jests with you.  One eyebrow cocks, with deadpan amusement.  But the hand on her shoulder holds her in place; Shui's hypersensitive body reacts to its subtle urgency, its desire to hold the doctor in place a moment longer.  Yas is, no doubt, about to impart an important point.

And Yas does.  Her words of wisdom touch on lessons imparted and forgotten years ago.

"'All warfare is based upon deception'," Shui quotes automatically, her voice falling into a singsong cadence.  Then she blinks and stares at the security officer.  "Your pardon.  I believe I understand, Ms. Crow."  Her own eyes are dark and deep.  "I will not forget your advice."

Advice based, no doubt, on years of (possibly painful) experience...and thus, a highly valuable gift.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:04, Sun 08 Oct 2006.

Yas quirks an eyebrow at the seemingly automatic response, and the trains of thoughts starts to chug in her head.  Perhaps there are more to the good doctor than she wants people to know, possibly tied in with her martial arts.

"Deception, eh?  Something like that, I suppose.  And please, call me Yas, or I will have to come up with ways to make you call me that," she says with a wink and then chuckles.

"I should get back to our potential ally now, I suppose, but unless I am intruding, I wouldn't mind being part of that martial art deal you two loverbirds have cooking," she finished, unable to joke a little with Sushi in the end.

"I will not keep you, Ms. Crow," Shui answers, with a solemn nod.  "And I shall do my best to heed your request."

"As for the martial arts, I am certain Tylen would be willing, though it is up to him - he is the teacher, after all.  I admit, your desire to join a pair of lovers shows a lack of inhibitions I find most refreshing."  A small bow for the security chief, and a mischevious light sparkles in the doctor's eyes.  The verbal fencing is of a friendly sort, and while Shui finds herself out of practice, it feels good to trust someone sufficiently to jest, even as she had with Tylen.

Shui has not been this comfortable in some time.  It is this very ease and extra care for the ship and crew, she realizes, that has put her nerves on edge, what with the ship preparing for battle.  Her dark eyes study the lively woman before her.  Will you be here after a battle, Yasmine?  The others?

It does not occur to her to consider her own survival.

Jockram shakes his head, "Not really.  I was hoping you had a plan.  I was intending to tag along, and maybe surprise them."

The miner sips his coffee, "That's good.  Must remember to mention it to my boys, as often as possible when I get back aboard."

Then he is all seriousness again, "My suggestion would be to head for one of the giants.  Even if they aren't attacking much near them, they need a place to hide out between raids.  The Navy likes to hide ships in the clouds of gas giants, maybe these pirates, or whatever, do to.  It provides cover, and a few chance targets might drop by to skim for fuel."

"Course, them giants have magnetic fields that'll play havoc with your sensors, so you'll need to be specially careful if you do go out there.  That's where an extra pair of eyes might come in handy.  The Hound doesn't look much, but I spent a fortune upgrading her sensors, cause, well, I don't make money if I can't find anything."

As Yasmin returns, Jago raises an eyebrow in query.

“ Had intended to head out there to scoop some fuel,” Jago says conversationally, “but now I don’t want to go anywhere with empty tanks. It’s going to take, what, about twelve hours or so to process this stuff, lets take it that we both head out there, and split any bounty or whatever fifty-fifty, but leave any details until nearer the time.”

"Yasmine.  Or Yas.  Don't make me make you," Yas threatens with a laugh as she parts with Sushi, laughing also at the joke the doctor made.

Then she is back with Jago and Jockram and winks at the former as he shows the lifted eyebrow.

"Sorry about that boys, just some girl talk!  Now, where were we?  Fuel and bounty?  Sounds explosive," she says with a casual tone, even though she knows it will be a matter of life and death - but that has been her trade for many a years and she has learnt long ago to push aside any undo alarm and to turn any fear and anticipation into something positive.  The only way to survive doign what she has done.

Suspicions laid aside for the nonce (as well as any possible decision to actually refer to Ms. Crow as 'Yas'), Shui re-enters the lounge after the security chief slash gunner.  She considers moving to speak with Corlan - Tylen and Saskia being busy at the moment - but decides to hold her ground.

Eventually a decision will be made, or an opportunity will present itself.  For now, she will watch, listen, and learn.

"That sounds like a good plan.  The Hound's already fueled.  First thing I done when I got here.  We can move out just as soon as you want." Jockram says, nodding.  "If we keep close together, depending on how good their eyes are, we might show as a single blip on their screens.  Specially close to the giant."

”That’s settled for now then,” Jago agrees.

Not wanting to rush his guest, he settles back for a little small talk, “so how long have you boys been on this rock?”

"Sounds like a plan!  Like two spacers in a lifepod!" Yas agrees and slaps her hands together to demonstrate how close close flying is.  She had done it in the Marines, or rather, been on ships doing it.

"It'll be great fun," she chuckles and then settles down to listen to what Jockram has to say about the boys and the rock and all.

Tylen sat quietly in his turret and watched the crewman tinkering with his ship. He didn't relax his vigilance, nor did her power down the Laser.

Jockram thinks for a moment, then, "lessee now... I'd say it's 'bout sixteen, seventeen days.  Local days have thrown my time sense off, but that'd be roughly it.  Stopped off on the way to Garda Vilis to refuel, then had to wait for a power rectifier to be shipped in from Frenzie.  The old one was looking a bit dodgy, so I figured it was worth the wait to make sure we made the next Jump okay."

"The new one arrived day before yesterday, and we spent most of yesterday replacing the J Drive's guts.  That's what we were celebrating in that bar - finishing the bloody job."

“Seventeen days,” Jago whistles, “not a lot of fun on a place like this, most planets have something unique and interesting, but there’s nothing here.”

OOC
Jago is actually fishing for ideas for an export cargo.

"As long as you don't make us scrub the deck with toothbrushes again, captain, my captain," Yas says with a sweet smile, feeling the need to lighten the dreary idea of seventeen days in limbo.

She pretends to duck when Jago turns to look her way, holding her hands up defensively.

"So, we're going to do this then?  Do the lovebird routine and hug close and all that," she asks, throwing a glance towards where she last saw Sushi.

"You've seen the place... I know you've seen it.  It's not exactly the nust-visit tourist centre of the Imperium, is it?" Jockram chuckles.

"We only hung about because we had to, and if we'd had any trouble ordering the replacement, I reckon I'd have risked the Jump rather than stay here too long."

"Banster says that there's a community of artists, just on the edge of the nearest town.  He said we should call over and see it... but Hegerich and me, well we're not what you'd call art connoisseurs.  I wouldn't know a masterpiece if I dropped it on my foot."

A shake of his head, "Maybe we should have gone, but I'd have been lost, looking at that sort of stuff, and Hegerich... well he knows less than me, and he'll admit to it."

Shui merely waits patiently through the discussion, turning a carefully constructed bland look in Yas' direction at the innuendo.  But something occurs to her, and with a frown and a motion of her hand, she steps back onto the bridge.

From her dataglove, she opens a direct line to Corlan's quarters.  + Mr. DeSant?  I hop I am not disturbing. +

"Tylen, I think that's just a cheap cooling system, like I said.  I've been monitoring it, and there's no radiation from it.  The system just dumps a load of hot vapor every so often, and tops itself up with cold from a reserve tank."

Saskia's voice is filled with unrestrained contempt, as she adds, "I wouldn't use the frelling thing, but some people aren't fussy the way I am."

"No, not at all, Miss Tiesi.  I was just doing some reading.  What can I do for you?"

Good.  + Mr. DeSant, I was wondering if we might speak for a moment. +  She quickly slips from the bridge, past the lounge, and out toward Corlan's quarters.  + A situation has come up that may cause some concern for you...I thought you should be appraised of it. +

Shui moves across to the passenger side of the ship.  As she enters the passenger lounge, Dhakhingzuel turns to regard her.

The canine alien is using the ship's library, studying a colourful holographic display of a solar system, possibly Arkadia itself.  Vargr script flows through the air around her, while pointers connect blocks of text to various items.

Corlan opens the door of his cabin, and admits Profit Margin's Medic/Steward.

Grinning at Sushi reaction, or lack thereof, Yas turns her attention to Jockram again.

"Ha, those masterpieces are only called that because no one can figure them out!  They aren't pretty or clever, just weird!  Give me a nice gun and hot cocoa, now there's some masterpieces I can appreciate!"

She laughs briefly and leans back in her seat, enjoy what is left of her cocoa.

Corlan offers the doctor a seat, then, So what was it you needed to see me about, Miss Tiesi?"

In the Turret Tylen is growing bored. He wishes he could get out and find out what is going on but Jago wanted him here and, as they taught him on his first day in the service, "Orders is orders."

He pulls out his datapad and hooks it into his headset. He pulls up a series of menus and selects: "History", "Earth", "Late 20th Century", "Culture and Art", "Popular Music", "New York Punk/New Wave Scene". He scrolls through pages of song titles and finally selects the one he wants. Faintly, in the corridor outside the turret door a distorted voice can be heard...

"One, two, three, four! Hey ho! Let's go! Hey ho! Let's go! They're forming in a straight line, They're going through a tight wind ..."

"Thank you, Mr. DeSant," Shui says quietly, taking the proffered seat.  She settles herself carefully, not plopping down into the chair like a sack of grain.  "My apologies for disturbing you like this, but as the Steward, I felt I should keep you appraised of the current situation aboard the Profit Margin."

She frowns - how to begin?  Best to simply make a short version, and let Corlan decide if he wants more details from the Captain.  "The Profit Margin is preparing to embark on a rather dangerous mission, Mr. DeSant.  From what I gather, we have agreed to hunt down pirates operating at the edge of this territory.  Captain Lanza knows the details, but I thought it best you should be warned, so that if you wish to disembark for the duration you may."

Disappointed, but not surprised, Jago says, “I don’t have the eye for art work, and I doubt there’s much market for it on Frenzie, you ever been there Jockram?”

"Well, when we're done with this, maybe Jockram's friends can help us.  The sums some people pay for the right piece of cr... er, creative art is simpyl amazing.  Worth looking into, I think," Yas says and then makes a face where she widens her eyes and sucks in air to show how crazy the artnuts can be in terms of money.

"Rich, spoiled people with nothing else to do but sit around with their thumbs up their ar... er, nose all day, they are everywhere, and they think art is a way to brag!  Heck, I even had a artnut for a major once," she chuckles and shakes her head.

"Ah... I suspected the Captain might be thinking along those lines.  He did seem interested in the Vargr's proposition in the bar, and I noticed that she was aboard." Corlan answers Shui's warning, with a smile, "But I booked passage on this ship to put some excitement and adventure into my life, so I have no objection to a spot of combat."

He gestures towards a printed image on the wall, a garishly coloured spacecraft, captured in the instant of being struck by a missile.  "I was aboard Profit Margin for that incident, and I have every confidence in her crew, Miss Tiesi."


Jockram thinks for a moment, then, "Frenzie?  Yes I was there a couple of years ago.  No atmosphere, not many people, and everybody stuck in underground cities.  'Bout the only real difference between here and there is that you can raise groats easier here.  And you can survive without a vaccsuit."

"Well, that and the Navy base there, so there's no pirates about.  I did well at Frenzie... they're always on the look out for ores and minerals.  Trying to build themselves up into an industrial power I reckon, but they just don't have the resources or the equipment.  I was lucky... they have a nice little belt over there, but no way to exploit it yet, so I went and did some mining there."

Pausing for a moment, he continues, "Just between us, Captain, if your looking for cargo to take there, I'd suggest atmosphere processors, or mining equipment.  None of which you're likely to get here.  Maybe processed groat will sell there, I don't know for sure."

"Advance warning," Shui notes quietly, with a short bow, "is still part of the service."  She gives Corlan a quick smile upon raising her eyes, before glancing at the picture of the ship.  "Very good, Mr. DeSant.  So long as you are advised and satisfied with the current situation?  I fear I must return to my duties - we have another guest, and negotiations may require a certain amount of refreshments."

With that, she bows out of the room, giving whatever pleasantries necessary to extricate herself politely...and without haste.  Upon reaching the hallway, though, Shui pauses, her shoulder against the wall, and closes her eyes.

"But I booked passage on this ship to put some excitement and adventure into my life..."

She feels ill.  The memory of the picture turns her stomach, and the doctor wonders why in the world anyone would keep such a...memento.  Perhaps, she considers, to remind themselves of the awful truth of 'combat' - that people die.  They die instantly, seared by beams of energy, riddled by bullets, or blown apart by the white-hot, forged lance of a shaped charge.  They die slowly, cut open by a blade, ripped by shrapnel, or struggling to breath vacuum.  But they die.

"...so I have no objection to a spot of combat."

She suspects Corlan does not keep the picture as a reminder of the butcher's bill.  The doctor also suspects it is human nature, by and large.

Shui pushes herself from the wall and slowly walks down the hallway toward the lounge.  She needs to check the refreshments, ensure that all are comfortable.  When the meeting is concluded, when there is no more need for her services, she can return to her quarters and consider this murky conundrum.

She surmises that there will be no easy answer.

OOC - Heading back to the Lounge

As Shui returns to the Crew Lounge, Jockram stands, reaching out a hand towards Jago.

"Well... I'm sure you want to discuss my offer with your people, without me here, Captain, so I'll head back over to the Hound and leave you in peace for now.  I'll keep her nearby, so just call up and let me know what you decide."

"If you want to go for it, we'll be ready just as soon as you are."

He smiles at Shui, "Thanks for the coffee, Miss.  It was a refreshing change from the stuff I'm used to." then, "It's been good to meet you all, and this is a nice ship, Captain."

Tylen was running through a medley of old favourites on his data pad. The problem, he decided, with his chosen genre was that the songs were too short. If he had chosen and early period and style, say Heavy Metal, he could have still been listening to the first song. He sighed and picked another 4 minute wonder.....

"If the kids, were united....."

"Feel free to tell your friend about the coffee and tea here.  I mean, so they can turn green with envy," Yas says and then chuckles.  "We'll call you and you all can have some of the excellent beverages here, no doubt served by our lovely and talented doctor," she finishes and turns to smile at Sushi, apparently being completely straightforward, unless she is that good at keeping the mask.  But then, why would she say something like that unless she meant it?

"You are most welcome, Mr. Jockram," Shui replies, with a short bow.  "I shall accompany you to the air lock."  With a smooth motion, she indicates the way - of course he would remember it, being used to starships, but politeness costs nothing.

The doctor does, however, pause at Yasmine's comment, her head tilting slightly.  "But Ms. Crow," she counters, "I am wearing my steward's hat at the moment."  Perhaps there is a hidden meaning to Yasmine's words.  Something important.

She'll have to ask after the other Captain leaves their ship.

"Oh, come now, Sushi!  What are you at heart?  Doctor or stewardess?" Yas asks with a smile, shaking a finger at her.  Then she chuckles a bit again and winks at the doctor.

Jokram starts to leave, but then, at the last second, he turns in the doorway, "Oh... I nearly forgot...  Did you know there's a Navy ship moving into orbit?"

“Well, that’s got to be a good thing,” Jago says with a smile, “any idea why?”

Jago walks with Jockram and Shui to the ramp, the cigar in his mouth moving like a conductor’s baton as he talks.

"We picked up part of a transmission a while ago.  Didn't get it all, but it looks as though she's damaged and hoping to make repairs.  Maybe she'll give some of her crew shore leave while the work is done?" Jockram shrugs then, "Your chance to collect the reward money might be about to vanish soon.  If she gets fixed up, and takes an interest, then you won't be able to compete with Navy sensors.  Plus she's fast."

"Even if she doesn't take an interest, your target might decide to move somewhere quieter."

"On this ship," Shui points out to Yasmine as they move toward the airlock, "I must be both."  No sting in her words, and she smiles to ensure Yas does not take anything negative from the comment.

She resumes her quiet listening as the two Captains continue to talk.  Interesting information seems de rigeur for the day.  A navy ship.  Well.  Isn't that convenient?

"That's not what I asked, silly," Yas says to Sushi with a small, crooked grin as she follows Jockram and the others to the ramp to see him off, for now.

"Well, if she's out for the count at the moment, then we got our chance, don't we?" she comments regarding the Navy ship, although she already knew about it.

“And besides,” Jago says as he shakes hands at the top of the ramp, “I thought we’d decided that it was ‘our’ quarry. I’ll give you a call as soon as the fuel has been processed.”

Jockram laughs as he shakes hands with Jago, "Right you are, Captain.  Just give us a shout when you're ready to go."  He reaches into a pocket and pulls out a business card.  "Com code's on there."

Turning away, he walks down the ramp, and returns to his own ship.

A few minutes later the Ore Hound lifts and moves away across the landing field.

As the "Ore Hound" lifts off Tylen powers the laser down and clicks off his data pad. He ensures the weapons systems are all safe, then releases himself from the firing chair. He stretches the kinks from his back and then climbs out of the turret. He heads toward the crew lounge in the hope that there's some of the Doc's coffee left for him.

Shui bids her farewell to the other Captain, and waits until he leaves.  She then turns to Yasmine with that small smile on her lips.  "But that is my answer, aboard this ship," she explains, a hint of irony in her tone.

"Captain Lanza," she continues after waiting a beat, "I have informed Mr. DeSant of the situation.  He seems fully amenable to remaining aboard, even if there should be unpleasantries.  As for myself, my inventory is well-stocked, should we require it."

A politic way of saying 'Should people need to be patched up'.  Less likely in space combat, but not every penetrating strike was all-or-nothing.

"Ah, I see.  You're the type that changes your heart as you move from place to place...  Personally, I am who I am, and I supposed I'll always be, be it good or bad," Yas replies to Sushi and shrugs, turning to head over to her gun turret.

She stops and looks back as the doctor mentions a well stocked inventory and chuckles, "Since our old shipmate is no longer here, allow me to crack a joke in his memory...  He always liked his women well stocked, after all!"

"On second thought, forget the joke.  I will try to do the same," she finishes and begins to moves away again, chortling to herself.  She calls out, "I'll be in my turret, Skippy!"

The sounds of movement, in and out of the fire control positions at the back of the bridge attract Conrad's attention.  Figuring that the discussions must be over, he goes in search of Jago.

"Jago, jus' thought y'all'd like to know - Shata Lunoqi jus' made orbit.  Can't see her from here, she's below the horizon for now, but I picked up a relay from one of the other ports, lettin' the folks here know that she's there, an' safe."

None of what Shui feels at Yasmine's words is evidenced upon her features as she smiles back at the woman.  "Indeed.  We must all be true to our natures, be they anchored or fluid."  The joke receives a slight widening of the smile, as well as an inclination of her head - a nod of defeat.  Yasmine has certainly 'won' this round.  Not surprising.

Conrad approaches the group as Yasmine heads for her turret - the other gunner has a question for the Captain.  A good thing; it seems an opportune time to slip away on some pretext: steward or doctor.  You are who you are, Yasmine, and may you stay that way forever.

And I...I am who I was trained to be.  As you say - my heart changes as I move, in accordance to the needs around me.  Only one part of it stays true.  She could curse her father again, but it would be pointless.  Despite inertia's push, Shui knows she could settle down roots, change who she is one, final time.

The only problem is that she has no idea how.

So with a nod to Conrad, she returns to the galley.  The coffee machine needs cleaning, and possibly a fresh pot brewed.  And other drinks, for the other crew, and herself.  She is the Steward, now.  It is her duty.

“Thank you Shui,” Jago says before she leaves, “I’ll link his screen up with the optical sensors so that he can see what’s going on.”

Jago rewards the navigation with a smile, “thanks Conrad, that’s good news.”

The captain turns to the intercom, “can you give me an estimate on fuel processing completion please Saskia?”

Tylen walks to the Galley. The remains of a pot of coffee sits simmering in the machine. He pours himself a cup of the dark bitter brew and set's it down. He takes the filter out, empties it and rinses the pot. He wipes the machine clean and refills the hopper and water tank before switching it back on. Then he takes a seat and sips his brew.

Shui enters the Galley moments after Tylen has completed the work; she pauses, frowning at the machine as it merrily burbles away, and then turns to the gunner seated at the table.

"Mr. Ogresh."  One eyebrow rises slightly.  "Have you been tested for psychic talent?  I was about to make coffee."  The Doctor grimaces at the sight of his coffee cup.  "That coffee is well over the half-hour mark," she notes.

"Take off and nuke 'em from orbit
It's the only way to be sure!
Take off and nuke 'em from orbit
it always worked before!"

Humming on an ancient military march, Yasmine takes a seat in her turret control and begins to check that everything is in order.

Targeting...  check.

Sensors...  check.

Auxiliary...  check.



Going through the whole list will take a while, but it is something she does with regular intervals, prbably more than needed.  Same thing with her guns, they get more attention than needed, although she takes great care not to clean them too much too often, as that will kill a gun as well as too little attention.

Still humming she continues to check the systems, one by one.

Tylen grins at the Doctor.

"Well Doc, the first cup's for to wake me up, the second will be for taste. Don't worry, I cleaned the machine before I put the fresh on."

He drank the boiled coffee quickly and pulled a face.

"But you're right in your assumption, that was pretty nasty."

He took the mug to the sink and rinsed it.

"Fortunately the coffee was only past the half-hour mark.  Past the six hour mark...well, I have some solvents in my laboratory that might have been able to save your cup."  She stares dubiously at the coffee machine.  "I doubt they would have been able to save your insides, though."

"Apparantly we will be busy in the next few days.  A shame - I was looking forward to your classes for myself and Ms. Crow.  I am certain she would have brought something to the table, as well."  It would be useful to learn grappling skills, submission techniques, and the like.  "Perhaps we can fit it in somewhere," she concludes hopefully.

Picking up a damp cloth, the steward moves to the table and sweeps up some crumbs, as well as cleaning away the occasional coffee ring.  Cleanup is also her job - occasionally she mops, occasionally she dusts.  Right now, though, Shui knows she's nervous.  They're going out looking for trouble.  There will be violence.

"How much combat have you seen?" she asks abruptly.

Tylen drops the smile.

"Enough to know what I'm getting into."

He answers.

"Ship to ship combat isn't really the Scouts job. Normally we'd leave that to the Navy boys, but I've been involved in the odd running dogfight. To be honest it's pretty nerve wracking unless you have a job to do. The Pilot, the Engineer and the Gunners are usually too busy to worry, but you guys in sick bay and damage control are gonna be pretty blind for the duration of any combat and it's gonna seem a million times longer than it really is."

He shrugs,

"It's the way it is."

"It sounds horrible," Shui answers, her eyes closed.  But that was, in truth, not the answer she sought.  But then, her question was not clear, was it?

How to explain?

"I...do not seek reassurance," she says quietly, hesitantly.  "Only understanding."  The doctor rubs her forehead.  No matter what she says, it will come out wrong.  People assume, wrongly, that they are being judged with everything another says.  With every word spoken.

Turning to Tylen, she opens her hands before her.  "I seek understanding.  I wish to comprehend.  We are-" and the arc of her arm encompasses the Profit Margin "-good people.  Yasmine is a good person, yet now she begins preparations of her weaponry without concern.  Jago is a good person, yet we embark upon a mission to hunt, to kill, without question of the lives that may be lost.  And yes, I am aware that by doing so we will prevent the loss of other lives, but..."  She shakes her head.  This isn't coming out correctly.  "Corlan is a good person, and yet he views this as exciting diversion.  You are a good person - I know this."  Embarassing, to speak to someone directly concerning this, but it must be said, lest Tylen think she omits him from her list of 'good people'.  But she cannot bring herself to continue in this vein - even to her own ears, she sounds condemning.

Even if that is not her point.

"I cannot know what everyone thinks, of course," Shui murmurs, turning away to lean against the table.  "Conrad, I do not know well, nor you.  And Saskia is likely concerned for her ship.  Forgive me - I ask questions to which there are no easy answers."  Turning back, she bows, carefully, in apology.

"I only seek answers to understand people."  Her smile is wan.  "Including myself."

Tylen nodded.

"I think I get you Doc, you want to know how to justify an "Evil" action in a "Good" cause. Well to be honest Doc, I can't rightly answer that question,"

He scratched his head,

"You know, it's been a long time since I've had to think about stuff like that. I guess it comes down to what feels right you know? I mean, in the service you just do what you were told, you trust that the command structure will be acting in the interests of the people and you are like, their instrument or something, if you get me. Now in this here situation we got a mystery. People are dyin' and there ain't no-one who can do anythin' about it right now 'cept us. Sure we're gonna get paid for it, but that's not the only motive. Jago's a good man like you said, if'n we don't do something this little system's gonna whither and die and a lot of people, good and bad are gonna suffer or die because of that. Someone's gotta do somethin' and we're the best equipped for the job."

He paused again,

"I saw an old vid once, bunch a soldiers got stuck in the way of a whole load of savages back on old Earth. They're outnumbered like a hundred to one, but if thet don't hold on them savages is gonna roll all the way into the towns and forts behind 'em. One young soldier asks the Sergeant 'Why us?' The Sergeant says 'Because we're here lad, there's no-one else.' That's kind off how I look at it. Something needs doing, and there's no-one here that can do it. There's just us, no-one else."

Tylen sips his coffee and looks up at the Doc.

Saskia sighs.  People are always in a hurry - speed over quality.

She hits the intercom, replying to Jago's question, "Depends how you want to do it, Jago.  We can refine it as it comes aboard, which'll take a touch over eleven hours now.  Or we can fuel up quickly, then refine it, which we can do on the move.  We've got enough fuel in the secondary tanks to run the power plant for a couple of weeks, so we're really just looking at filling up for a Jump."

"If you go for the second option, we can have the main tanks filled in - " a brief pause, while she checks the figures, " - about two hours.  Then twenty for cleaning it up."

"It's up to you.  Refining it before it hits the tanks is quick, because I can be sure it's pure as it goes through.  Refining it while it's already in the tanks will take longer, because I need to run the process through a couple of times to make sure none was missed, but at least that way you can lift sooner."

Done with all checks, Yas gets up and walks out towards the crew longue.  Overhearing something about taking off she remembers that she had better remind the skipper about the cargo they are hauling.

Once she finds Jago she calls out, if need be, "Yo, skippy, just don't take of before the cargo unloaded, it might be bad for our rep," and then she chuckles.

"Yes."

Shui walks to the sink, looks down.  A dirty cup.  She blindly reaches out, and her hands run over it, going through the motions of cleaning.  Soap.  Water.  Scrub.

"I understand."

Soap.  Water.  Scrub.

"Because sometimes there is no one else."

Rinse.

Father.  Why do you echo in my ears, even now?

"You quote a movie from Old Earth," she says, after a long moment, her voice tired.  "How many years ago was that?  How many centuries?  Milennia?  We have technology that is magic to those savages, no doubt.  We have reached the stars themselves.  And yet, what has changed since that movie and now?"  Her fingers tighten around the mug.

"Those men stood against an army of savages...of their own race, come to slaughter the innocent.  Sometimes we are forced to choose between two, terrible alternatives - we find them, and kill them, before they continue to kill others.  But death and killing is still the answer - they come to kill their own kind, for their own reasons, and the soldiers must kill them to stop them.  And why?"

Her hands relax, and she carefully places the cup down, to allow it to dry.  Then the doctor turns to face Tylen, but she isn't looking at him.  She looks through him, over a great distance.  A distance measured in years, not astronomical units.  "Because over thousands of years, we, as a species, have never learned anything different."  Her eyes focus upon Tylen, now.  "And what does that say about us?"

Then she blinks, and her eyes are no longer hollow.  "Forgive me.  I am...discomfited by our upcoming situation."  With an effort, Shui manages a smile.  She thinks on good things - the small lamp she just bought, Yasmine's laughter, the smile on Saskia's face, Captain Lanza's compliments, Conrad's rolling accent, the conversation with Tylen in the hall.  The smile becomes real.  Chameleon.  Just as Yasmine said.  "As you say - something must be done.  And I am certain we will prove sufficient to the task."

Tylen is facsinated by the Doctors analysis of the situation, but relieved when she breaks into a smile.

"Don't take it too hard Doc, if we weren't here to help then more people would suffer. The guys committing the attacks are wrong. They kill and harm those who are unable to fight off their attacks. I'm sure Jago isn't just going out there to vapourise them. Despite our discussion of the power of our weapons it would be pretty hard to totally wipe out a ship and crew. I'm sure once they are disabled we will give the survivors chance to surrender, which is more than they would do to us."

He smiled,

"Which perhaps demonstrates one answer to your first question. We don't kill people out of hand, they do."

”Eleven hours is about what I figured Saski, that’s fine, thanks.”




A quiet, ‘crunch’, is followed by a series of spitting sounds as Jago tries to clear particles of dried tobacco leaf from his mouth. “Dam it Yas, I’ve been thinking on this so hard, I forgot about the cargo, now I’ve gone and ruined a good cigar.”

Jago displays the cigar in question with it’s bitten off end, while he wipes his mouth with the back of his other hand.

“It was almost ready for smoking,” he adds, inspecting it sadly before tossing it into trash disintegrator, “but thanks for the reminder, I’d better call them so they know where we are.”

"They kill people out of hand.  Yes."  Shui nods along with those sentiments, even if they ring hollow in her own spirit.  But 'they'...are still 'us'.  Too many issues, and now is not the time to consider them.  All she will do is forment irritation, exasperation, and lord knows what else.  Over a decade of thought on the matter has not resolved it for Shui - why should now be any different?

"I do hope the Captain will lift off soon," she continues, to change the subject.  "I am, of course, in no hurry to place the ship in harm's way, but I am certain Ms. Blake would rather us be off this planet as soon as possible."

Tylen nods,

"Yeah, I guess Jago's itching to lift as well, I'd best see if there's anything I can do to speed the process."

He stood and drained his cup and rinsed it in the sink.

"Y'know Doc, I appreciate these chats. It's been a while since anyone asked me a question that made me think. I guess they don't expect a burnt out Scout to be able to express an opinion, much less analyse and discuss an abstract concept. Thanks for talking to me rather than at me."

He turned and headed up to the bridge to see if Jago had a job for him.

Shui bows.  "It has been most interesting for me as well, Mr. Ogresh.  As I have noted, anyone who simply sees a 'burnt out scout' does not look terribly deeply."  She tilts her head slightly, considering.  She might be overstepping her boundaries.  "My opinion, of course."

Then he leaves, and she is alone in the lounge.  Save for the coffee cup she washed.  Picking it up, Shui runs her fingers over it for a moment, then replaces it in a locker.  You don't leave these things lying around when a ship might be under accel.

She should revisit this conversation with Tylen.  Certainly he doesn't assume she judges him - Shui has attempted to talk about these things in the past, and people have had quite the wrong impression.  And while she has heard his own views from others, from him they do not sound like rationalizations.  Interesting.

She should have told him more of what she thought.  The answers might have been illuminating.

Well.  He was gone, now, and she had work of her own to do.  There was a checklist for this sort of thing, and the first order of business was along the same lines as the coffee cup.  If high accel was expected, Shui needed to ensure everything aboard not in use was bolted, strapped, or put away.  Safely.

OOC - Shui commences going over the inside of the ship, looking for loose articles that could become missles in high acceleration.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:37, Sun 05 Nov 2006.

(NPC'd)

Jago looks at Yas, and recollection floods his features, "Of course.  Thanks Yas, it's a good thing one of us is awake."

Turning back, he mashes the intercom button with his thumb, "Saskia, take your time.  We can't go anywhere until the cargo's offloaded anyway."  Then, unsure exactly where everybody is right now, he hits the switch to broadcast to the whole Crew Section.

"Jago to all crew.  It is my intention to lift tomorrow, just as soon as we have the cargo hauled away.  Tylen and Yas, you've got until then to do any final gunnery checks.  Shui, first thing tomorrow I want you to make a final check on our two passengers.  Conrad, I'll need courses to the system's giants, and their Trojan point clusters.  Saskia, I'll be wanting all Engineering systems online, so try not to dismantle anything."

Having just completed a thorough check on the Turret systems Tylen was at pretty much a lose end. He tried to think of anything useful he could do. He opened a channel to Shui's com link.

"Hey Doc! Would it help if I did an inventory on consumables? I'd hate to get out there and find us short o' groceries."

"Hey, don't blame me for the cigar, skip," Yas says and holds her hands up with a crooked grin.  "You should cut down on those things anyway," she calls after him as he makes his little speech.

"Hey, Quadman," she says to Tylen as she meets him coming onto the bridge.

With the checks already done she decides to fiddle about with her bike, and passes through the lounge where she sees the Doc keeping busy on her own.

"Hey, Doc," she says as she makes her way through the lounge.

++ Of course, Captain Lanza, ++<blue> Shui replies over the comm.  She continues her work, wanting to get ahead.  Of course, she will have to go over everything again once they break atmosphere, but at least this way she can find all of the loose nuts and bolts first, and treat the second run-through as a double-check.

Her comm activates again, this time a direct link, just as she's picking up a spoon from behind the counter.  How did that get behind there?  <blue>++ Mr. Ogresh - that would be wonderful.  Thank you - I shall ensure that coffee is brought to you to facillitate. ++  Signing off, she straightens as Yasmine enters.

"Good afternoon, Ms. Crow.  I take it that preparations progress?"

Yasmine Crow stops, lifts a hand, extends a finger and waggles it as she turns to face Sushi with an omnious grin on her face.

"Sushi, Sushi, what will I do with you?  It's Yas, not 'Ms Crow'...  Keep that up and, ooh," she sucks in air through her lips, then tsk's, wagging the finger again, "I'll have to come up with some method that works.  Are you ticklish, Doc?"

She blinks innocently and smiles ever so sweetly.  Trouble is brewing, no doubt.

"I expect I shall find out in our training sessions, Ms. Crow," Shui states warily.  She doesn't actually look like the sort of person most people would consider tickling, so that's not surprising.  "One hopes you do not hold a grudge."

A long, suffering sigh follows.  "I suppose," she hazards, "I could attempt to use your given name, Yasmine.  My memory is not what it used to be, though, and I expect frequent lapses...."

Tylen sits down at an unused terminal on the bridge and checks the Ships current inventory against the reccomended supply level. As usual the Profit Margin is running within acceptable levels, but the low prices on locally produced food, especially frozen Groat steaks, makes a reasonable excuse to stock up.

Tylen puts a call through to Jago.

"Hey Boss, I'm running through the supplies inventory for the Doc and I can't help noticing this would be a good planet to stock up on a few luxuries, like frozen steaks. Should I pick us some up?"

(NPC'd)

Jago is a little slow answering the call, being a tad distracted. 

Finally he answers the call and listens to Tylen.  "Yes, that's a good idea.  Make sure they can get them here tomorrow morning, at the latest, though."

"A grude?  No, those tend to give you calluses," Yas chuckles and moves up closer a bit.  "You try, Doc, but it's Yas, not 'Yasmine'.  Unless you want to sound like my mom," she jibes and attempts to, inconspicuously, try to find out if the doctor is ticklish or not, at least where them love handles tend to show up sooner or later.

Shui sees Yasmine coming - it's not hard, considering she's keeping an eye on the Security Chief.  Something about the stance gives warning, and the doctor scoots around the table, putting it between the two of them...and keeping it there.

"Should you wish for me to call you Yas," she states quickly, moving to ensure the table remains in Yasmine's path, "I shall do so."  It's a quick capitulation, but better that than the alternative.  Shui knows when she's beaten, has known from the beginning that it would only be a matter of time.  It goes against her nature, but if Ms. Crow wishes her to use her first name in the diminutive....

"Shall we then call a truce, Yas?" she inquires.  She isn't going to run around the table like some secretary pursued by a lecherous boss; should Ms. Crow truly wish to catch her, she'll have to lose that battle as well.  Lose the battle, win the war - a bit of decorum gone with Yas' attempt at a tickle, but her own dignity kept by not fleeing from a set of fingers.

Not giving chase, Yas chuckles quielty and shakes her head.  The doctor was quite unintentionally fun at times.

"Seems I found how to get you to accept things I say, Doc."

She turns to walk out into the cargo hold again.  "Sure thing, if you want a truce.  Not sure what it is about, but it's yours if you want it."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:58, Wed 08 Nov 2006.

Shui raises one eyebrow.  "About the assault you were preparing upon my person, of course.  I would rather not have to continue to dodge around furniture to avoid you."

Perhaps she said something to offend the woman.  Shui hopes not.

"Best I continue with the work," she finishes, half to herself, then goes back to the cleanup.

"'The assault'?"

Yas stops and looks back in surprise at Sushi.

"Well, if I offeneded you to such a degress, I apologise!  It won't happen again, doctor."

She sounded and look completely serious and then turned to leave again.

"Hardly offensive, Yas," Shui states with some discomfort, her head popping up from behind a chair.  There had been a small bolt lying on the ground, possibly carried in the treads of someone's boot....

It isn't easy, using her first name.  Especially in the diminutive.

"Perhaps a poor play on words.  I most certainly was not put out.  I would merely rather avoid such things, hence my capitulation."

"Call me what you will then, doc," Yas calls out without looking back as she walks out of the lounge and towards the cargo hold, raising a hand in a short wave.

Shui sighs, blowing a tuft of hair from her face.  Obviously she has bothered the woman.  She isn't certain how, but she has.  There doesn't seem to be a way around that fact.

You cannot expect even 50% of the people in the universe to like you 50% of the time, Shui.  Best to get over it.

At least she knows how strongly Yas wishes to be called by her personal name.  Shui makes a mental note to stick with that in the future, as she goes back to her work.  Perhaps it might help.