It's 03:00, by Profit Margin's onboard chronometers, and the salvage work is finally finished.

The last twelve hours have been... interesting, and hard work.

The hold now contains about twelve tons of assorted cargo, mostly Saskatchia tea, plus a couple of cases of parts, taken from the wrecked Leviathan's own stores.  Then there's about 310 kg of iridium ingots, packed in the bottom of one of the cases of tea.

The sensor data has been sent to Shata Lunoqi, via a narrow beam signal, heavily encrypted using an algorithm provided by Hrouf Gvaegech, Profit Margin's former employer, and IN Intelligence Officer.  Even with that much security, the message identifies Profit Margin as a merchant vessel named Silver Sunburst, scooping fuel at the gas giant, and perfectly positioned to record the incident.  No explanation was offered concerning how "Silver Sunburst" came into position of a military comms code, and Shata Lunoqi's watch officer clearly knew enough about Naval Intelligence not to ask...

Shata Lunoqi herself is making good time, and should reach the Sword Worlders' rendezvous point in plenty of time to prevent a repeat of the previous friendly fire incident.

At last, Profit Margin's weary crew can relax a little.  Possibly even get some sleep before Jago has them move on.

Ore Hound's crew are all sleeping, it seems, with just the ship's computer on watch.  This is apparently standard procedure for them when they're down on some airless rock.
This message was last edited by the GM at 19:04, Mon 07 Apr 2008.

Saskia comes back out of the hold, reading through a list on her hand computer.  She stops in the lounge for some water, and keeps going through the list as she sips at it.

Every so often she adds some notes to one of the listed items.

(NPC'd)

Jago looks up as Saskia enters the lounge.  Like her, he's just grabbing a working supper before turning in for a couple of hours.  In his case, though, the work revolves around possible destinations when they leave the ice moon, and its inhabitants, behind.  There are a couple of suitable systems within range, where he can look into getting the new airlock fitted, and give his crew (and himself) a well-deserved rest.

"Been looking at those parts we brought back?"

Shui sits silently in the lounge near Jago, her eyes closed, taking a short break from her duties.  With a small nap behind her, she feels sufficiently bolstered to maintain her post.  The prisoners have been fed, their needs tended to after the crew's, and things have calmed to the point where she can pick up a few minutes of meditation, Jago's presence a solid, calming influence.

If the Captain is relaxed enough to take a meal, surely the situation has stabilized.

Her eyes crack open as Saskia enters.  "Miss Blake."  Prepared to rise, she remains seated when the engineer hunts for water, rather than for food or coffee.  But Jago's question piques her curiousity, and she leans forward a touch, waiting for

"Yes, just been seeing what was there.  Most of it's no use to us, though."

The engineer smiles, as she elaborates, "There are field rectifier coils that are bigger than than our whole plasma intermix chamber, and I found a fuel flow regulator manifold that I could get my arm through.  The ones we use are - " she holds up a pen, " - this big."

"There's nothing wrong with them, that I could see.  Just older systems, made for a bigger ship, that's all.  At a port with reasonable traffic, they should fetch a decent price."

"So the find still has worth?"  Shui taps her lip thoughtfully for a heartbeat.  "Very interesting, Ms. Blake.  Does this mean there is a significant amount of what you might consider antique equipment still in use?"  It seems to make sense.  If a large, older ship still functions properly, why mothball it?

Better and better, then.  Jago might be able to pay off more of the Profit Margin's debt.  Should they continue to have such good luck -

Her lips thin.  Luck is an ephemeral thing, Shui reminds herself.

"Maybe not older components, though anything on that wreck is going to be at least ten years old, but older designs." Saskia explains, "Like the Sword Worlds ships.  They might have had complete refits in the last year, especially if they were gearing up for a war, but the specs for them are at least a century behind Imperial Navy standard."

She thinks for a moment, before adding, "Then again, older parts are common too.  Profit Margin is more than forty years old, and a few of her systems are still the originals.  Others were only replaced because she was upgraded.

"Those components from the wreck, they're old to us, but to somebody running another Leviathan, or some other large ship, they could be just what they need."

(NPC'd)

"I have three destinations in mind.  All of them are in range for a single Jump, and they all have shipyards that can fit our new airlock, and busy ports, where we should be able to sell the salvage.  Apart from that, they all have their own pros and cons." Jago explains.

"Frenzie has a Navy base in the system, so it should be safe from raiders, but it's an airless rock, which means we spend a week, or however long it takes to get the work done, sitting underground."

"Garda Vilis has a Scout base, so some security, and an atmosphere.  But it's cold, and the air's got a slight taint to it, so we'll be wearing filter masks when we're outdoors."

"The third choice is to go back to Vilis itself.  Better climate, but there's no Scout or Navy presence, and it's right on the border.  A nice tempting target for the Swordies."

Jago sighs, and rubs at the back of his neck, "Right now, I'm leaning towards Frenzie.  Better port than Garda, and better security than Vilis."

"HEy, is my cocoa reeeeaaaaaa...!"

The ex captain of the Marines comes flying into the lounge.  True, now and then a foot touches the ground, but most time is indubitably spent in the air.

Despite nearly walking in her sleep, the reflexes that have been hammered into her during years of service inevitably kicks in and she grabs hold of the nearest solid object she can find.

Saskia.

If Miss Crow has attempted a full body tackle she could not have done much a better job as she has all her weight behind the embrace that she catches the unwittingly volunteering engineer with.

Having rested from his exertions on the moon, Tylen uses the 'fresher and digs out yet another red T shirt,

"Maybe I should spend some credits on a more varied wardrobe next time we get a chance for some shopping."

He muses. Shrugging into the shirt he draws on his pants and battered boots and makes his way down the to the crew lounge.

"Morning all, or whatever time it is. Shall I make coffee, or is there some on?"

He looks hopefully around.

Slowly nodding her comprehension, Shui files Saskia's information as Jago explains their choices for landing.  When he finishes, she continues to ponder the Engineer's explanation.  "So.  The levels of sophistication obviously vary between ship and ship.  I have observed such a fact, but never truly marked it."  A wry smile grows as one of her eyebrows lifts slightly, and she gives a half-bow to Saskia.  "Thank you, Ms. Blake.  The things we pass by unknowning, seeing through what lies before our ey-"

Thudding footsteps, and Yasmine approaches.  Triggered by her words, Shui rises to her feet, but the weapons officer erupts into the room as if fired from a gun.  Or perhaps fired on by a gun.

Shui's reaction contains little to no perceptible lag.  Her shoulders seem to slump slightly, and she takes one, sliding step toward the two women, both presumably in midflight.  But the angle of her movement aims her toward the door, in truth, and as Tylen emerges she moves into his blind side, her face blank, eyes distant.  One hand comes up.

The doctor blinks once and brushes a piece of lint from Tylen's shoulder.  "My apologies, Mr. Ogresh."  Her face a pale mask, she gives him a small bow.  "Neither coffee nor cocoa is yet prepared.  Please sit; I will see to it after I check on Ms. Blake and Ms. Crow."

"Ms. Crow?  Ms. Blake?"   Turning away, a faint line of persperation on her forehead, her thoughts muddled, she anxiously hurries to where the women have fallen.   "Yasmine?  Saskia?  Are you well?"  This should have been her first reaction, and she silently curses her father.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:32, Fri 11 Apr 2008.

Tylen raised his hand,

"Hey no problem Doc, you take a break. I'm quite capable of making a pot of coffee, and I've suffered enough Navy Cocoa to know how a Jar Head likes it!"

He winked at Yasmine.

"Strong, sweet and hot, just like yourself isn't it Yas?"

Jago goes back to his ruminations concerning their next destination.  In this section of the Marches, A and B class ports aren't too common, and those are the ones with shipyard facilities they'll need if Profit Margin is going to get a new airlock.

At least the crew seem in good spirits, even if they are exhausted.  Tylen is up in good time for his watch, and the others seem ready for bed.  Of course, once they are out of this system, with its possibility of more pirates coming through, and its own small war, they'll all be able to relax.  Which is, in part, why he'd like to find a good place where they can unwind a little.

The crew needs a break, and that is what finally decides for him.

"Okay.  People, we'll be leaving here soon.  Conrad, please plot a Jump to Garda Vilis, and a short course to the Jump limit.  Let me know when you've got it.  We'll lift as soon as that's done.  I'll need you all to stay up for just a couple more hours, just until we Jump.  Once we're in J-Space, and don't have to worry about pirates or raiders, we can all take a break."

"Once we hit Garda Vilis, we'll be taking some shore leave.  All of us."

Saskia pushes Yas away, laughing, aiming her in Tylen's direction.  "You need to take more water with your cocoa, Yasmine dear, it's obviously too strong for you."

Then she smiles at Shui, "Yeah, I'm fine Shui.  You know how clumsy these jarheads can get.  A couple of minutes in a powered suit, and they forget how to walk without one."

Jago's decision is one she approves of.  She doesn't want to spend any more time than she has to sitting on this snowball, with a ghost ship for company.  She gives him a very sloppy, casual salute, which probably would have seen her thrown off any Navy ship, from high orbit.  "I can give you full power in about two seconds from your mark, Jago.  Garda Vilis sounds good enough to me.  Not perfect, but good enough."

Tylen filled the filter machine and started the drip, then began to fix the Marines cocoa.

"Shore leave sounds appealing, I've bin thinking my wardrobe needs a little variety, mebbe I'll do a little shopping."

Relieved, Shui straightens up, only to find (with some embarassment) that Tylen has paid her no heed and begun work on the coffee.  Without cleaning the machine, first.  Oil from the coffee builds up when pot, filter, and basket are left untended, creating the unpleasant, bitter taste of which many complain...

...but then, she cleans the machine religiously.  It should be fine, once.  Shui swallows a sigh, accepting this - to jump over now and stop production would be an insult to Tylen, and sometimes one must accept the lesser evil.

So instead, she turns to Saskia.  "Ms. Crow is certainly excitable - perhaps due to the sugar she drinks..."  A quick glance at Yasmine follows.  "Perhaps I should reccomend cutting back?"

Jago's pronouncement produces a stir of excitement.  Shore leave.  Opportunities for rest, relaxation, sightseeing of somewhere new, and another souvenir.  Small ambitions, to be true, but satisfying ones.  "Shopping indeed, Mr. Ogresh."  Shui looks down at her business-like clothing.  "I believe I am in need of that, myself...and perhaps a visit to the spa is in order," she murmurs.

"Of course I am wall, Sushi.  And my cocoa...  Water?  Blasphemy!  Beside, it is stronger than anything you can handle, Sassy, but not strong enough to trip me.  Beside, I have not had any yet.  It was that darn cat that ran in front of me," Yas says as she gets back on her feet, helping Saskia up as well with ease.  As for the cat, well, must be that cat from that old book, the one that vanishes in a grin.  The cat, that is, not the book.

"Flattery won't get you anywhere, Quadman," Yas says to Tylen as she nods to Sushi and Saskia to move over to him, watching him carefully as he makes the cocoa.  He is after all not the expert that the good doctor is, and is more than likely to mess it up.

"Shore-leave sounds good.  I might be able to pick up a few gun and perhaps a nuke or two, who knows?"

"I think your wardrobe needs a major overhaul, not variety.  You dress sooo cliché scout, my dear Mr Ogre," she tells him with a too friendly a smile.  Then she turns to the doctor, "The spa, now that sounds luxurius.  Think they have got this Mu... Er, Motro..uh...cotolican or whatever massage there, Doc?"

Relieved at the utterly lack of injuries, Shui begins heating a kettle of water for her own tea.  Non-beetle, of course.  "I am certain any spa would have many options for massage, Ms. Crow," she replies, watching the temperature rise in the kettle.  Sixty-three degrees, and she switches it off, pouring it into her small pot through the strainer.  "We need only ask, and if we have time for more than one and credits permit, I am certain it would do nothing but good for you."

Her mind counts somewhere in her subconcious, keeping track of the amount of the amount of time the tea sits in the heated water.

"For myself, I feel I might spend some credits on something other than medical supplies and a single keepsake this time."

Tylen completed making Yasmines cocoa to the ancient Navy recipe he remembered and carried it across.

"Well I wasn't thinking of too radical a makeover,"

He grinned,

"But there's got to be more to life than red T shirts!"

(NPC'd)

Jago relaxes, leaning back and gazing at the ceiling, listening to the banter.  The  thought of the upcoming downtime, dirtside, seems to have driven away all tiredness from his crew.  Some of the money from the salvage operation will go on putting an  additional airlock in the hull, between his cabin and the bridge, there should be plenty to spare for crew bonuses, and a short holiday for everybody.

The only downside is that he, too, will likely be forced off the ship while the new airlock is fitted.  Most shipyards don't like people hanging about while they're working.

"Thanks.  There is more than red T-shirts.  Red teddies, for instance," Yas tells Tylen with a sweet voice as she takes the cocoa and then studies in a rather suspicious manner.  It was bound to taste odd, having not been made by Sushi, but question was how far of the mark he was.

"That sounds good then, Sushi.  Will you join me?  And you too, Sas, perhaps?  Well, not on the same table, but, you know what I mean," she says, chortling a bit at the end.

Then she carefully sips her cocoa.

It only takes Conrad a few minutes to plt the most efficient course to the nearest Jump point, at least one hundred diameters out from anything in the system.  Once he has it, he lets Jago know, and starts working on the best Jump insertion vector for Garda Vilis.

Admittedly the Jump will take roughly a week whatever he does, but Conrad firmly believes that a well plotted insertion vector can shave as much as an hour off the trip and produce a more precise reentry into normal space.  Of course there's no hard data to prove any of this, but it's a matter of professional pride, mixed with a healthy dose of spacer superstition.

Jago leaves a message for Jockram, explaining that he's decided to make a move, while the battle is well out of his way.  The latest sensor data, already hours out of date, shows that Shata Lunoqi has bypassed the killers, out of range of their weapons, and is heading straight for the drifting ship.

Jago's voice issues from the ship's intercom system, "All hands to flight stations.  Prepare for takeoff."  There is a brief burst of activity, and, minutes later, Profit Margin lifts from the frozen moon, and starts the long climb out of the gas giant's gravity well.

Behind her, the tiny snowball spins through space along its accustomed path.  Jockram and his crew sleep, and the moon's real population go about the daily business of pursuing the sun...