WORLD DETAILS

NAME:              Garda Vilis
HEX LOCATION:      Spinward Marches 1118
UWP:               B978868-A
PBG:               912
TRADE CODES:       None
BASES:             Imperial Scout Base
ALLEGIANCE:        Third Imperium
STELLAR DETAILS:   Primary Star: M3 V     Mass: 0.39    Luminosity: 0.35

SATELLITE DETAILS: Number: 0

SIZE RELATED DETAILS
Basic World Type:  Planet - molten core.
Diameter: 14,880 km    Density: 0.95  World Mass: 1.104    World Gravity: 1.12 G
Orbit Period: 52.312 Std Days         Distance: 0.21 AU    Eccentricity: 0.005
Rotation Period: 0.0  Std Hours       Axial Tilt: 40°      Seismic Stress Factor: 7.95

ATMOSPHERIC RELATED DETAILS
Composition: O₂ - N₂ mix.  High CO₂ levels.
Surface Pressure: 1.0              Mean Temp: -60.0°C  Native Life: Yes
Terraforming - Atmospheric: No     Albedo: No          Greenhouse Effect: No
Weather Control: No

HYDROSPHERE RELATED DETAILS
Composition: Liquid H_sO - high CO₂levels.
Hydrographic Percentage: 83           Tectonic Plates: 1
Terraforming - Hydrographic: No       Terrain: No

POPULATION RELATED DETAILS
Total World Population:  900,000,000
Starports and Spaceports: B/B/B
Primary Cities: 4                     Orbital Cities: Yes

Social Outlook:
    Progressiveness:  Conservative, Advancing
    Aggressiveness:   Unaggressive, Peaceable
    Extensiveness:    Monolithic, Xenophobic

Unusual Local Customs: It is very unusual for members of this world's population not to remarry
                       after the death of their partner.  The custom probably dates back to
                       the early years of the planet's colonisation.
                       Academics are highly regarded here, and are treated almost as nobility.

GOVERNMENT RELATED DETAILS
Representative Authority: Captive government (colony ruled from Vilis).
Representative Authority: Several councils.
Division of Authority:    No division

LAW RELATED DETAILS                   TECHNOLOGY RELATED DETAILS
Uniformity of Law:     Undivided      Technology Profile:

Legal Profile:                        High Common TL:        A
    Overall Law Level: 8              Low Common TL:         5
    Weapons Law Level: B              Energy TL:             9
    Trade Law Level:   7              Computer/Robotics TL:  A
    Criminal Law:      4              Communicationss TL:    B
    Civil Law:         7              Medical TL:            0
    Personal Freedom:  9              Environment TL:        7
                                      Land Transport TL:     9
                                      Water Transport TL:    9
                                      Air Transport TL:      9
                                      Space Transport TL:    9
                                      Personal Military TL:  9
                                      Heavy Military TL:     9
                                      Novelty Tech Level:    B

RESOURCES AND GOODS
Resources:
    Natural:        Agriculture
    Processed:      Agroproducts, Metals, Non-Metals
    Manufactured:   Durables
    Information:    Recordings, Documents

---

The Garda Vilis system orbits around a dim red star, and the one inhabitable world huddles close to the sun, trying to capture as much radiation as possible.

Profit Margin drops out of Jump, and Jago, after a brief consultation with Conrad, sets course for the planet's main downport, Shelter.  As the ship's sensors get a fix on the beacon, the captain relaxes, and starts passing some information on to his crew (though he's sure most of them have checked up on the planet where they'll be spending their shore leave).

The world is tidally locked, but with a noticeable axial wobble.  Temperatures range from -270°C at the dark pole, to +120°C at the bright pole.  There is a wide twilight zone, where temperatures never rise quite high enough for frozen water to even consider melting.  Most of the population lives in a strip a little further into the daylight side, where temperatures range from 0°:C to 40°C.

The atmosphere is breathable, and locals don't even wear masks, though visitors are advised that carbon dioxide levels are about 30% higher than standard, which can cause difficulties for some people.

Shui scans the data.  Temperature, good.  Gravity, a touch high.  CO₂ levels - a touch high as well, but nothing about which to be seriously concerned.  Despite that, she pings the crew over her dataglove from her desk, the world's information still reflecting in her spectacles.

+ As a note to passengers and crew - the carbon dioxide levels are still well below the 1% level, where drowsiness might occur.  It is remotely possible, though, that the higher level might cause slight disorientation from time to time. +  Truly, it's as close to impossible as one can get, but Shui likes to hedge her bets.  + Please be wary of extensive physical activity.  If any symptoms develop, stop immediately- + assuming, she notes privately, the extensive physical activity doesn't involve 'partners' or 'opposition' + -and contact me. +

Satisified, she sits back and continues her perusal of the information.  Weapons laws, criminal law, civil law...useful to know.

Saskia studies the world information from her panel in Engineering, and notes the Medic's concerns.  While Shui studies things like local conditions, and the society, Saskia's concerns are, to her mind, much more important.

She'll be leaving the ship in the charge of a shipyard at a B-class port.  Not exactly top of the range, but they should be able to manage a simple job, like fitting an airlock.  At least they'll have refined fuel, which should make the drives happy.

One thing, though, does catch her eye, and she hits the intercom stud, "Shui, did you notice the medical tech level?  I wouldn't even want to cut my finger while we're here off the ship."

A small smile touches Shui's face, and she thumbs a holo-control to personal contact only - her to Saskia.  "All the more reason to contact me should anything transpire, if we are not already travelling together."  She cocks an eyebrow, though the engineer cannot see her.  "I would rather not discover you in a local 'care facility', the local chirugeon applying leeches to your wound."

It's the closest she comes, ever, to disapproval of a culture - proper medical care is critical.

"You, on the other hand, at least will not have to struggle with the port to find..."  Shui grimaces.  "...adequate docking systems for the Profit Margin.  My loss, your gain, Ms. Blake."

Another glance at the weapon laws, then she slides the drawer closed on the ugly black snub pistol and its stinger rounds.

"Pfft, no way I am going out there naked.  I'll just bring one.  Or two.  A backup is always good," Yas mumbles to herself as she returns to her duties.  At least it is not bikini-world, so bringing a few pieces is not going to be a problem, if she plays it right - and places it right.

"If they are sticking to their conservative guns, then i will be sticking to my own guns, thank you very much," she chuckles under her breath as she makes certain that everything is ready for the extended period of birthing.

Slowly she works her way towards the crew lounge again, checking off one thing after another as she goes.

She notes with amusement that the good doctors warns people about the atmospheric conditions, as well as the medical - but then, most people have neither her training, nor experience from worlds less hospitable that this.

"A note here, Doc," she calls Sushi, privately, as to not embarrass her, "this notation does not say whether or not they import medical gear and stuff.  For all we know they might have state of the art equipment, but being so far unable to actually produce anything themselves.  Just figured I'd let you know."

She speaks with a relax and easy tone, showing that she simply is informing the doctor.  Soon she steps into the lounge, intent on heading for her quarters to set up her little personal armoury.

Amusement colours Shui's tone as she replies to Yasmine over the personal comm.  "No, Ms. Crow, it does not give details.  You are quite correct."  She continues to change her clothing, out of her shipboard uniform, into something a touch more casual.

"Under the circumstances, with no way of knowing one way or the other, it is my habit to fall on the side of caution."

Calf-length, tan skirt, slit to slightly above the knee.  Black, high-collar sleeveless pullover.  Her heavy, dark-brown jacket - she'll check the temperature before she leaves.

All, of course, accessorized with her medical bag, never very far.

"Ah, dear old Caution, sorely missed.  One of a kind, he was.  For better or worse.  Anyway, not saying you are wrong to be cautious, merely making certain you are aware of the potential contradiction of what is on the screen versus reality.  Sometimes you'd swear they tried to fool you intentionally," the head of security replies, the first part with a sigh, the latter in a deadpan tone.

She continues towards her cabin, already planning where to conceal her guns so that they are well hidden yet easily accessible in case they are needed.  Like the doctor, she too enjoys flirting with the good twin of danger, even if there is such a thing as being too cautious too, experience has taught her.

"Fully aware, Ms. Crow," Shui finishes, a small smile on her lips at the security chief's concern.  Doing her job, and doing it well, as always.

Prepared, she sits down at her desk, taking a moment to feed her two 'houseguests' and ensuring they're all set for landing.  One wouldn't want anything to harm either of them.  Then she sits, elbows planted on the tabletop, and studies the more friendly of the two.

Truly a fascinating little creation.

With constantly updated telemetry from her own sensors, and the ground-based and orbital traffic control centres, Profit Margin falls into a perfect approach vector, passing through a little turbulence as she traverses the upper atmosphere.  Jago and Conrad notice it, but only because they can see their instrument displays, for the rest of the crew and passengers, safely cocooned by the ship's artificial gravity and inertial dampers, there is nothing to notice.

The port, from up above looks like a giant honeycomb, eight or nine kilometres across.  Circular pits are divided from each other by thick walls, which form a hexagonal array, and contain access corridors, service tunnels, fuel lines, and all the other things that a grounded starship requires.  Every one of the pits is surrounded by an assortment of cranes, navigation beacons, pumping gear for fuel and liquid cargoes, and other equipment.

Along two adjacent sides of the port are runways, used by ships which must rely on aerodynamic lift for atmospheric flight, and parking areas for those ships.  The other two sides are occupied by warehouses, rented offices, control towers, and a large pyramid, painted in yellow-and-black warning chevrons, and bearing the legend "Port Authority Offices" (or translations thereof) in Anglic, Vilani, Zhodani, and two different Vargr alphabets.

Surrounding the whole port is a six metre high berm.  Just beyond that, on the side closest to the Port Authority building, stands Startown.  The town probably has a real name on local maps and documents, but to spacers, the community nearest to the port is generally known as Startown.  Some of them are wretched hives of scum and villainy, but most are no worse (or better) than any other town on the planet...

Jago, having told TraffCon that his ship will require access to shipyard facilities, is directed to set her down in Docking Bay 94, close to the maintenance workshops.

As the ship settles onto its landing gear, her Captain activates the intercomm system, "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome to Garda Vilis.  The temperature outside is a pleasant 18°C, and the port area is currently experiencing light rain showers."


This message was last edited by the GM at 17:32, Sat 10 May 2008.

Shui stretches out of her chair, bends to touch her toes, then relaxes, muscle by muscle, as she walks to the door, picking up her bag as she goes.  By the time she steps into the hall, all tension is banished, the doctor prepared for her shore leave.

Check to her dataglove, as always - there, a list of possible spas and shopping areas.  The crew knows her number and she might just be with some of them, so no issue there.  And the ugly little pistol remains back in her desk - this time the law prevents her from catering to caution, uncomfortable even with stunner ammunition.

People have died from stunners, after all.

Rapid steps take her to the crew lounge, where she brews a final pot of fresh coffee and a small cup of cocoa, just in case others plan on leaving late.  Then Shui awaits the all-clear to disembark.

Busy shutting the drive systems down, Saskia looks up from he boards as Jago describes the weather outside.  Raining, and slightly below the ship's internal temperature.  She makes a mental note to wear a jacket, as well as whatever else she decides to go with.

"Jago, everything down here is offline, except main power, which is at minimal output.  The computer is running diagnostics on the M-drive, and should be finished in about three hours.  The starboard thruster was running a little hot on the way in.  Probably nothing serious, but we'll know when I check the diagnostic logs."

She waits for an acknowledgement, then heads for her cabin.

Jacket.  She must remember a jacket.  And frelling shoes.

The ramp drops, with the characteristic squeal of tortured metal which Saskia (and several Naval techs) have, somehow, never been able to prevent.  Under the belly of the ship, the ground crew are linking up the fuel lines, datalinks and power couplings.

As soon as he has access to the local network, Conrad starts downloading the latest news and navigation updates.

In their quarters, Corlan and Dhakhingzuel prepare to leave.  Corlan had a conversation with Jago during the Jump, and knows that he has to spend a week planetside.  He is looking forward to a change of scenery and some sightseeing.  The Vargr, meanwhile, intends to seek the first transport home from this busy port.  She has important news for her family, regarding Oezzarr's killers.

Jago contacts the shipyard, and begins the process of arranging the addition of a new airlock.  He also needs to arrange the sale of the salvaged cargo...

Saskia shuts down the drives, and lets Jago know that Profit Margin is now sound asleep, before going to get changed for her shore leave.  Shui, too, gets changes, having checked that her pets will survive the week, then ensures that the crew will have access to refreshments before they leave the ship.

Yas and Tylen take a little time to disarm and lock the weapon systems, a task required by many local authorities when a ship's crew will be leaving her unattended for several days.  Both turrets will now need two access codes to unlock them, one from each gunner, and the codes for each turret are different.

---

The news, downloaded into Profit Margin's computer, does not look entirely good...

• Rhylanor/Rhylanor (0306-A434934-F) Date: 206-1107
  The local branch of the IISS Detached Duty Office issued orders requiring all detached scout personnel in the Spinward Marches and Corridor subsectors controlling surplus scout vessels, and all other retired scout personnel under the age of 66, to report to the nearest scout base for examination.
  
  All scout vessels will be armed and re-fitted for service in scout squadrons attached to the Navy.  All retired personnel in suitable physical condition will be inducted into service for the duration of the emergency in accordance with established procedures.
  
  Failure to report for examination during a state of emergency is treason, and a maximum sentence of death may be exacted upon conviction. 
  
  
• Rhylanor/Rhylanor (0306-A434934-F) Date: 210-1107
  The Travellers Aid Society announced today that, contrary to rumor, all representatives of the Regina branch of the Journal of the Travellers' Aid Society are safe.
  
  "All but a skeleton news-gathering staff has been withdrawn from the system as a safety measure," a society spokesperson said, "but we will continue full coverage of the war as it develops."
  
  
• Regina/Regina (0310-A788899-A) Date: 212-1107
  The office of the Duke announced that his Grace Norris, Duke of Regina, has been stricken with a variant form of pneumonic virus and has transferred the routine functions of state to a nominee pending his recovery.  The brief statement by the Duke's seneschal was made during the regularly scheduled news conference, and no questions were permitted.
  
  Speculation that the Duke has been deposed by rival power factions within the Navy is reported unfounded.
  
  
• Regina/Regina (0310-A788899-A) Date: 214-1107
  
  Strong Zhodani advances on Louzy and Efate are reported to have been beaten back by Imperial forces late last month.  Conflicting reports have prompted the Admiralty to institute a policy of monitoring news releases and rating their accuracy.  The ratings for these reports was termed excellent.

Having complied with the local ordinance regulations, Tylen pulled on his battered jacket. It felt strange leaving the ship without at least one of his revolvers, it had been a while since he had been on a world so heavily regulated. He checked his communicator, his credit and his I.D. were all carefully stowed in the jacket's inner pockets, then made his way back through the ship to speak to Jago.

"Hi Boss, all systems secured. Is there anything else you want doing?"

He wondered if Jago would want him around as back up whilst he made whatever deals he could to shift the merchandise they had salvaged, of if his Boss was going to indulge in a little relaxation himself before getting down to business.

Jago turns away from his screen as Tylen sticks his head onto the bridge.

"Have you seen this, Tylen?"  He indicates the display, "Seems that the Scouts might need you back.  They're requesting that all retired and detached duty personnel report in."

The captain works his unlit cigar from one side of his mouth, to the other, and back again.

"I can't really think of anything that needs doing here.  Not right away.  I need to check up on local traders, and book the ship in with the yard.  You go take a look around.  Maybe take care of this Scouts business.  I'll call you if I need you back here."

Tylen read the screen with mixed feelings. A little while ago he would have jumped at any chance that might have taken him back into active service, since his injury he had felt discarded and worthless, a broken wreck. The Profit Margin had changed that for him, made him feel a valuable part of the team once more, and that had won his loyalty.

"Well I hope they're not planning on trying to press gang me, I reckon the Profit Margin's performing a useful enough service. I ain't hankering to leave just yet."

He flashed a smile at Jago,

"I'll see if I can tag along with the Ladies then, but I'll drop by the depot with my discharge papers and see what they want."

He detours back to his cabin and picks up the ID he needs before heading down to the crew lounge. Seeing Shui Tiesi he smiles.

"Hi Doc, I was just wondering if I can tag along with you and Yas for a bit. I need to check in with the Scout base, but I figure I have time for a gander at the sights and a bit of shopping first."

"Mr. Ogresh."  Shui raises both eyebrows.  "Offering to accompany women upon a shopping expedition?  I see the legendary daring of the Scouts is not at all exaggerated."  Something's different about the man, and she studies him for a long moment.  Of course - the pistols.  The doctor cocks her head to the side, considering.  "By all means, you are most welcome...you have need for shopping?"  Her lips quirk in a smile.  "Perhaps, if you have patience, we might have some advice on certain matters."

A small pause.

"Much patience," she admits.  With three very different women offering their kernels of wisdom, it might quickly grow tedious for Tylen.

Tylen looked slightly bashful,

"Well my wardrobe is kinda limited, I thought maybe I might try a different colour of T shirt or something, kinda mix it up a little."

He scratched his head,

"And maybe pick up some kind of souvenir of the planet, something to keep a track of where we've been you know?"

He was just hoping that his summons to the Scout depot wouldn't mean this was the last place he would visit with the Profit Margin.

"I have a similar custom," Shui notes.  "Of course, one must keep the souvenirs small, or problems arise with space.  Even with the cabinets of a doctor's 'office'."

The steward touches her chin with her thumb, considering the scout.  She slowly shakes her head.  "A...different colour of tee-shirt?  Mr. Ogresh, if that is your plan I suggest you very quickly exit the ship in a different direction.  Not that your present attire is unsuitable, by no means, but if you travel on a shopping expidition with myself, Ms. Blake, and Ms. Crow, I suspect you will find yourself with a small change of wardrobe."

She drops her hand, taps her finger on her thigh.  "Variety is the spice of life, and there is enough room in a closet to accomodate a small selection of clothing."

Saskia steps into the lounge, just in time to hear her name mentioned, and studies Tylen, whose wardrobe is the subject of discussion.  He doesn't look too outlandish, to her eyes, at least.

She had thought hard about her clothes, and had somehow still ended up wearing a comfortable set of dark green, baggy coveralls, very similar to the ones she would normally wear around the ship, but in better condition, and a pair of Marines issue boots that Yas had helped her find in a military surplus store on Lanth about twenty Jumps back.  A blue cap, bearing the legend "I.N.S. Gionetti - Heroes All" in white, over a  yellow starburst, tops her outfit off.  The final item, a genuine touch of luxury, is a long jacket of treated groats' wool, the iridescent threads shimmering, like a film of hydocarbon lubricant floating on water, in the ship's lights.

"We nearly ready to go then?  Just waiting for Yas, I suppose?  She always takes a long time to get ready."

Tylen looks briefly alarmed, then chuckles,

"Well maybe a change is what I need, as long as it's not too outlandish."

He thinks about suggestions the ex-marine might make, but decides that the Doctor would probably not allow him to make too much of a fool of himself.

"I guess I'll take my chances."

He looks up as the engineer enters,

"Hi Saskia, nice coat."

He says, admiring the garment of which she is obviously quite proud.

"Thank you." Saskia says, smiling a little self-consciously, "It's genuine groatle.  Who'd've thought that the wool from one of those smelly frelling groats would look so good if was treated with the right chemicals?"

"My goodness, Ms. Blake."  Shui slowly steps toward Saskia, studying the coat.  "You certainly put us all to shame."  The outfit works for the woman, adding an immense amount of class while simultaneous marking exactly who she is - an engineer, and a valued one at that.  "Groat, is it?  Beautiful - it suits you well," she notes, shifting to study the woman from the side.

"Mr. Ogresh," she notes absently, shooting a glance in his direction, "has chosen to demonstrate his bravery by joining us in a shopping expedition.  He has expressed a desire to gamble on our choices, as long as they aren't...what was the word?"  She shoots a look at the scout, tapping her lip.  "Outlandish, yes."  The smile flickers again, there and gone.

The doctor holds out one hand, stopping it short of the material of Saskia's coat.  "It certainly smells no longer...may I?"

On Profit Margin's bridge, Jago dismisses Conrad, and starts placing the various calls he needs to make.  It's nice to be on a world with half-way decent technology again - having the ability to use the port's network to look for traders to take the cargo is a major benefit.  Most of the places listed even have access to their own cargo handling droids, which should make the offloading much faster.

Saskia looks at the Medic for a couple of seconds, pensively, then says, "Well, I don't know.  Are your hands clean?"  The effect is spoiled by the fact that, by the end of her question, she is struggling to suppress a grin.

"Of course you may, my dear Shui."

Shui dutifully extends both hands - palm-up - for examination, before laughing quietly.  "My thanks, Ms. Blake."  Amusement quickly turns to admiration as she carefully touches the fine fabric, running fingers over the threads.  "Saskia, I am truly impressed," she muses.  "This is splendid - as soft as it is beautiful."  The doctor slides her hand along the engineer's shoulder before drawing it back.  "Is it as comfortable as it appears?  Not too hot?"

"No, it's not too warm." replies Saskia, smiling.  It's not often she wears anything other than shipsuits or coveralls, and the compliments on her mode of dress are something of a novelty.  "Might get a bit warm if I stay in here for too long, but the weather's a little cooler outside, so it should be comfortable enough."

Then a thought strikes her, and, almost as an afterthought, she adds, "You look nice too.  Those clothes look really good on you.  You too, Tylen.  Er - I mean, your clothes look good on you, not that Shui's clothes would."

"You never know, he might think Sushi's clothes would look just fine on him too." Yas interrupts, chuckling, as she enters the lounge.

"Nice jacket, Saskia, and I'm pleased to see that you decided to go with sensible shoes.  You clean up nice too, doc."

She gestures down at her own clothes, all of which are immaculate.  A pair of black trousers, with about a million pockets, and a  green tunic, worn unfastened over a white shirt.  Her boots are a good match for Saskia's, but are so highly polished that people can almost see their reflections in them.

Her face falls, "Look at me, though.  I'm naked.  I usually have more hardware than this when I take a shower."  She lays a hand on Tylen's shoulder, "I suppose we'll all have to rely on my Lovely Assistant here for protection, should we need it, what with the rest of us being poor defenceless ladies."

"Are we ready to go?"

"Better and better," Shui murmurs.  "I should consider one of my own - in a different style, of course.  I would never compete...and could not, besides."  She glances down at herself, then blinks in surprise at Saskia's correction.  An odd image jumps into her head - herself in Tylen's clothing, and him in...well, no.  Amusing, yes, but somewhat disturbing at the same time.  "This?  My last decent clothing, I fear.  The rest is somewhat well-worn."  The doctor straightens her jacket.  "Thank you, Ms. Blake.  It pleases me it remains serviceable."

"Ah, Ms. Crow."  A small bow for the security officer.  "Mr. Ogresh's style is somewhat dissimilar to my own...and my thanks, again."  She eyes the woman, in all of her pocketed glory.  "I see we have all chosen our best for the day, and chosen well, Ms. Crow, yourself included."  A flick of the finger toward her brilliant boots.  "I see your training remains strong."

Yasmine continues, and the doctor raises her chin slightly at the 'naked' comment.  She remains dubious, somehow doubting the security chief has entirely divested herself of hardware.  "I am well-prepared," she answers, "and if Mr. Ogresh has taken it upon himself to chaperone us, we should have some pity and choose clothing we believe might suit his sensibilities, rather than our own."  She pauses.  "That is to say, choose clothing for him.  Mr. Ogresh," she reveals in a stage-whisper, "has elected to suffer through our advice at expanding his wardrobe."

Tylen keeps his own counsel as to his opinions on what advice he might recieve from the Ladies, but smiles brightly.

"Well I guess I'm the lucky guy, I never thought I'd be stepping out with three lovely ladies on my first official shore leave!"

He bows elaborately,

"I best brush up on my manners then and get the door."

He gestures towards the airlock.

"£That is, of course, if you're all ready?"

"Oh, no, Mr. Ogresh," Shui replies.  She bows slightly.  "As appreciated as your compliment is, a chivalrous man is difficult to find.  It is we who are honored by your presence."  She straightens her sleeves for a moment, then glances to the other two women.  "Ms. Blake?  Ms. Crow?"

As the crew make their way down the ramp, Conrad appears behind them, and tags along with them.

Docking Bay 94 is cylindrical, some 60 metres in diameter, and fifteen deep, with curved walls of ferrocrete, and a floor of the same material.  The top is open to the grey sky, and as soon as they step out from under the ship, the five are exposed to a light drizzle.

There is a wide doorway, for cargo vehicles, no doubt to one side, though it stands closed at the moment.  Near to it is a smaller door for pedestrians, and Corlan is standin close to that. with Dhakhingzuel.  The Vargr has a large bag hanging over one shoulder, while Corlan has a smaller one, and the two passengers are studying the man's handcomp, comparing it to a map of the port, and the adjacent city, fixed to the wall, just inside the door.

Dhakhingzuel traces one finger across the map, following the walls of several bays, before jabbing at a point on the edge of the port itself.  The map activates, a blinking red marker indicating the location, and a line of small text appearing alongside it.  With a grunt of disappointment, the Vargr selects another point, apparently with no greater success.

Corlan turns as the crew approach, "Hello there.  Looking forward to your holiday?  Dhakhingzuel and I are going for a meal before she looks for transport home.  She's taking me to try Vargr cuisine at a restaurant she knows here.  Then I plan on finding somewhere to stay while the Profit Margin is modified."

"Unfortunately, she's never been in this area of the port before, and isn't sure how to get there."

The alien suddenly gives an excited bark, and her tail starts whipping back and forth, "There!  We will need taxi."  She drags a communicator from her jacket, and starts keying in a number taken from an infopanel at the side of the map.  "I call now."

Tylen smiles,

"Well I hope you like your meat pretty rare."

He says, privately wondering how strong Corlan's stomach is.

Corlan chuckles at Tylen's comment.  "A common misconception, I fear.  While the ancestors of modern Vargr certainly ate their food raw, so did the ancestors of modern Humaniti, and at about the same point in prehistory."

He pauses, and thinks for a moment, before adding, "Having derived from the same environment, and having essentially identical biochemistry, anything a Vargr can can eat safely will be safe for me.  It's just a matter of whether or not I like the herbs and spices they use."

He leans closer, and quietly says, "Between you and me, Dhakhingzuel does seem to like some of her food a little too rare for my own tastes, and she actually likes some vegetables that I have hated since I was a small child, but she assures me that others of her race have varying preferences.  We shall see."

"I'm on this trip because I realised one morning that I'd never experienced so many things.  After today, I'll at least be able to say that I've tasted knozongigak with nokh, in garruedh sauce."

He glances towards his fellow passenger, as if to confirm that his pronunciation was acceptable, but Dhakhingzuel is busy, talking rapidly into the comm unit, in her own language.  The waving and gestures of her free hand closely resemble those of a person giving directions to somebody who can actually see them.

It seems that Vargr do have much in common with humans.

Shui listens quietly to the discussion.  Corlan always seems to have some jewels of information to divulge - the man samples experiences as if life were a buffet, and remains hungry for more.  It's always wise to listen when he speaks; she has picked up many tidbits of knowledge herself during their morning exercises.

It comes to her that she still needs to set up a time for training with Tylen.  Hopefully soon.  It seems something useful to learn, non-lethal means of dealing with threats.

"Mr. DeSant, the list of your experiences is dramatically longer than that of anyone I know," she notes.  "I still believe you should publish your journal - suitably edited, mind - and allow others to partake of what you have found in your travels."

Corlan smiles at Shui, "Perhaps, one day, when I'm too old and weary to add anything further to it, I'll find the time to edit it.  For now, I'm almost too busy to record everything."

Dhakhingzuel stops talking, and pockets her commset.  "Taxi come, here soon."

Standing quietly, listening to the conversations, Conrad suddenly slaps his forehead.  "Taxi!  I was meanin' to ask Jago if we could borrow the car, so's we'd have us some transport."

"Be right back.  Don't y'all go nowhere without me now."  he turns and walks quickly back to the ramp.

On the bridge, a thin trail of pale grey smoke snakes it’s way slowly towards the extractors in the ceiling and the air is thick with the scents of burning tobacco and java coffee, or at least reasonable facsimiles.

Jago lounges back in his chair, cigar smouldering his hand and a large coffee mug steaming gently on the small table attached to the arm. The captain stares intently at something on one of the screens before him.

“Still here,” Jago remarks, turning his head slightly as Conrad enters the room. “nothing wrong is there?”
.

"Nope.  Nuthin' wrong." Conrad replies, a little shocked to see Jago with his cigar  actually lit, "Jus' wonderin' if'n we could borrow the air-raft for a couple of hours?  Do a quick tour, find out what looks interestin', then take another look, a mite slower, later on."

“Sure, go ahead.” A thin trail of blue, grey smoke marks the course of the cigar as Jago gestures in the general direction of the hanger, but already his attention is reverting to the screens.

“Have fun,” he mumbles distractedly.
.

"Nothing wrong with Vargr food." Saskia hesitantly adds her own comment to the discussion.  "When I was in the Navy, we used to always try to get local food when we were in a system, just to see what it was like.  Vargr cooking was pretty good, if a bit plain sometimes."

She looks at Profit Margin's former passenger, "No offense Dhakhingzuel, but I found Vargr cooking didn't tend to use a lot of spices.

"Garruedh sauce is the main exception, and it's delicious.  The food's usually just cooked in its own juices, with maybe some salt, and - "  She stops to think for a little while, then asks, "What's that green powder that gets used on vegetables a lot?"

"Don't ya worry, Ditsy!" Yas calls out after Conrad before he vanishes.

"Nothing wrong with anythign you can eat, it might just keep you alive.  As for tasting new cousin... cous cous..  Er, food, heck, why not?  You only live once, accoding to most anyway, and it is kind of hard to prove, or disprove.  Anyroads, now I am rambling, and that means we had best move on before you all fall asleep, all right?" she says, finally speaking after having seemed busy with her outfit and what might be underneath.

Undergarments, of course, what else could it possibly be, hmm?

That's right, nothing else, nothing at all.  Get your mind out of the weapon locker gutter and carry on, nothing to see here (apart from the kick-arse babe, of course).

"So, were do we go first?" she asks cheerfully.

There is a sound from up above, like the howl of some wild beast, and an air raft drops out of the sky.  Unlike Profit Margin's utility vehicle, with its quiet MHD turbine, the new arrival is drawing power from some sort of noisy combustion process.

The bodywork, badly scratched and dented, is painted in in garish yellow and green stripes, with a flourescent orange logo painted along each side, as well as the top and bottom.  It has an improbable array of fins, vanes, antennae, and numerous stickers, in the same alien script as the orange logo.

At least one of the stickers, though, includes an Anglic translation: "Vargr do it on their toes!"

The driver is an older Vargr, with grizzled fur, wearing a Tukera Lines cap, and a dark blue shipsuit.  He grins, as he shouts above the noise of the motor, "Who calls Taxi?"  Corlan and Dhakhingzuel start towards the vehicle.


Inside the ship, Conrad goes to fetch out the air raft, while Jago goes back to work.

Shui listens politely to the conversation as it turns toward food.  The vast majority of Vargr cooking is unpalatable to her, so it's pointless for her to add her own opinion.  "Certainly we should find somewhere to eat or drink," she suggests to Yasmine, the other woman busy with her clothing.  Hopefully.  Her gaze rises to the taxi as it descends, and a small frown furrows her brow for a moment.  Her eyes flick over the cab number and license plate, her mind committing them to memory.

Habit, especially when worrying about the safety of both warm-bunk passengers.

The Vargr taxi departs, leaving only fumes in its wake, and a few moments later another air raft appears, this one rising from the hull of Profit Margin, piloted by Conrad.  He brings it out of the hangar slowly, carefully avoiding the dorsal sensor array, and brings it to a gentle halt close to his shipmates.  The open-topped craft, now with a canvas roof fitted, hovers just a few centimetres above the ground, it's motor producing nothing more than an almost imperceptible hum.

"Ladies and Gentleman, your chariot awaits." Conrad says with a grin, then nods to Tylen, "Jago reckons y'all might want to call in at the Scout base 'fore goin' anywhere's else."

Shui raises an eyebrow.  Ah, yes.  The Scout business.  "Mr Ogresh," she murmurs, "should there be any issue with your current employment..."  She pauses for consideration, suddenly very serious.  "That is to say, should you desire nothing to change, your ship's doctor has recently performed a physical on you.  I have the results-" one slender finger taps her dataglove "-and it would be no bother for me to sit in on any discussions of your situation."

Tylen paused,

"Well that's a kind offer Doc, but I guess the Scout's know my condition well enough. If they need me then they'll probablly do their own physical. I'll take my chances, though you have my thanks for your offer."

He appreciated the quite Doctors offer, he already felt that the Margin was home, but it was nice to have another crew member treat him as family.

Shui remains dubious, knowing full well how people are willing to 'fudge results' when they feel there is a need.  Even supposedly untarnished organizations can do so - rationalization is a powerful force.  But this is Tylen's decision, not hers, and she acquieses.  "I understand, Mr. Ogresh.  Still, I do hope you choose to remain."  Shui cocks an eyebrow.

"I recall something about lessons that have never materialized.  You would not wish to leave with that upon your conscience, would you?" she finishes, a small smile ghosting about her lips.

Jago clicks one last key to finalise the deal, then relaxes back into the well worn comfort of his char with an almost smug expression creeping across his face as he contemplates a substantial bite into the Profit Margin’s mortgage.

After a while, when the cigar is no more than a fine grey powder in the ash tray, Jago applies himself once more to the screens, this time bringing up star charts and planetary data.
.

"Ah, better," Yas finally comments and looks over at the others.

"Eat and drink?  Sounds like a plan," she concurs and leaps into the hover to ride shotgun, even if she does not have her shotgun with her - as far as anyone knows, anyway.

With all his passengers aboard, Conrad lifts the air raft up and out of the docking pit to reveal the full extent of Shelter, Garda Vilis' premier starport, laid out like a vast honeycomb.  Curtains of light rain, little more than wet mist really, move across the scene, in the light of the sun which sits quite high in the sky.  The rainbows thus formed, when breaks in the cloud cover permit, are noticeably faint in the indigo and violet wavelengths.

Shelter is clearly much busier than Profit Margin's recent ports of call.  Two docks over from Profit Margin, a subsidised merchant takes off, climbing rapidly, and further off, a variety of other ships are arriving or departing through the carefully orchestrated gaps in the local air traffic.

Conrad checks his flight plan, obtained before he ever left the hangar, and slides into the designated altitude and vector, on a course which heads, somewhat circuitously, towards the IISS facility, where Tylen has business...

Watching another ship lifting off, Saskia comments, "See that?  Starboard thruster's flickering a little.  Must be an imbalance in her constrictor coils."

Then she grows thoughtful for a moment, before smiling.  The smile vanishes as quickly as it appeared, to be replaced by a look of nonchalant indifference.

"This should be interesting." she says, in a deadpan voice, while still gazing out over the landing field as they move into the traffic pattern.  "We'll get to find out if scouts' bases smell like their ships."

She gives Tylen a quick look, to see if that got a reaction from him.

"...or like the scouts themselves," Yas rounds off with a huge grin, although her tone of voice suggests nothing in the way of the nature of that scent.

"Constrictor coils, eh?  I think I went out with one of those guys once.  He was part octopus too, though.  And a major.  Did not stop me kicking his butt, though," she reminisces, turning to look at Saskia.

"Mr. Ogresh is a brave man," Shui notes absently, studying the ship Saskia indicates, eyeing the starboard thruster, committing the sight and explanation to memory.  This practice has allowed her to adapt to many functions shipboard - while she cannot pilot a ship in combat, she can certainly dock one.  While she cannot jury-rig the Profit Margin's thrusters or repair the nav-console, she can certainly change the fuses and perhaps find and repair a short in the system.  Every word Saskia speaks is a gold-mine of information.

"Imagine, choosing to subject himself to our whims and fancies during shopping," she continues, "as well as our constant witticisms."  A small smile edges up the corners of her mouth.  "Rather, we should respect his courageous scout's spirit.  Shame, shame."

Her chastisment does not sound serious.  Not in the least.

"Now y'all know why them scout-couriers are always one man ships." Conrad adds his own comment, though not without a broad grin.  "It's on account of two scouts in a confined space bein' classed as a banned technology under the Imperial Rules of War."

The former Navy officer chuckles, "Land it someplace, open the hatch, and y'all've got one of them there Weapons of Mass Disgustin'."

The jokes are old ones among Navy personnel, just like the ones the Marines make about white shirts and armchairs in battle.

Tylen grins, taking the ribbing in good humour,

"I don't remember many Marines smelling that sweet either, 'specially after a few weeks in country."

He chuckles,

"We used to reckon those air scrubbers we had on the scouts were bought cheap, like mebbe they were Navy rejects."

"Marines always smell sweet - but people tend not to catch that scent due to themselves stinking of fear.  All qivers in the boots when the Marines comes 'round," Yas winks at Tylen and then ponders out loud, "I noticed you did not mention navigators, engineers or doctors...  You got a crush on me, eh?"

"Oh, and the Navy, phew, they are only got for hitching a ride with!"

"I guess what you actually heard Yas was that Marines always smell o' SWEAT, not SWEET. I dunno much what the Navy smells like, the Scouts don't have to hitch rides, we're smart enough to drive ourselves y'know."

He smirked at this familiar jibe, as Marines notoriously relied upon Navy transport.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:07, Tue 17 June 2008.

"Heard?  I've smelt plenty many of them, no hearsay here," Yas points out and watches the ex scout curiously.

"One hopes that our scout's scent is not truly offensive," Shui notes.  "Given my plan to learn non-lethal methods of dealing with the opposition."  She considers the possibilities.  "Biological warfare," she continues, "is outlawed upon most worlds."

The Garda Vilis IISS facility certainly looks impressive as the air raft approaches... a hundred metre spire of gleaming metal and glassteel, the top third of which is encrusted with communication and sensor arrays.  It stands at the edge of the port complex, with road access from the nearby Startown, and a large parking lot to one side of the base of the structure.

On the other side is a sprawling expanse of warehouses and repair shops, and an open landing field with several dozen scout-couriers standing on it.  The field is a hive of activity, with transport vehicles moving among the parked ships.  Around some of the vessels, there are brilliant flashes of actinic light, as maintenance crews carry out welding work on them.  One ship is actually being carried across the field by a pair of huge gravcranes...

Conrad sets the air raft down as close to the building as he can manage, no more than thirty metres from the entrance.


The reception area is light and airy, taking up most of the ground floor, with a high ceiling, and numerous windows giving a view of the field, where one of the Scout vessels is just starting skyward, its drives burning bright and steady.  The silence of its ascent speaks volumes concerning the sound-proofing of the building.

There is a desk just inside the transparent doors, and then a large area, with numerous comfortable chairs and low tables, each of which has its own data terminal.  Many of the chairs are occupied.  In the centre is a circular cluster of desks, where interviews of some sort appear to be taking place.

Oddly enough, the place doesn't smell bad at all.

As the group enter, a young woman sitting at the reception desk, looks up and smiles, "Good afternoon.  Welcome to IISS Garda Vilis.  How may we help you today?"  A badge on her tunic reads, "Syda Genushadinir".

Jago brings up the planets that can be reached with one jump, six of them. Two however have already been visited by the Profit Margin so he eliminates Villis itself and Arkadi leaving only four, as per the agreement with Corlan. He also eliminates Zeta 2 from the equation as it is a barren desert world with a corrosive atmosphere and no population.

Choleosti is in the wrong direction and has only one system available for an on-going jump so Jago turns his attention to the remaining two, the cold, airless but highly industrialised Frenzie or the weird and exotic, Stellatio.

“Computer, what do we know about these two planets?”
.

Frenzie       (Vilis/Spinward Marches 1116) A200436-A  N  Ni Va              110 Im

The Frenzie system comprises two stellar bodies, an M2 III red giant, and a white dwarf, orbited by a total of eleven planets, with a single planetoid belt in the outer system.  The belt is rich in minerals, and attracts numerous belters to the system.

The primary star has a mass of 6.8 Sol, and a luminosity of 5.571 Sol.  The dwarf companion masses 1.11 Sol, has a luminosity of 0.00003 Sol, and orbits at a distance of 0.4 Astronomical Units.

The mainworld, Frenzie, has a diameter of 2,720 km.  It has a molten core and a density of 0.96 Terra, giving a mass of 0.015 Terra and gravity of 0.24 G.  It orbits the primary star at a distance of 19.6 AU with an orbital period of 30,082.425 standard days.  The rotation period is 29.057 standard hours.  Axial tilt is 34 degrees, and orbital eccentricity is 0.01.

Surface atmospheric pressure is 0.0 atm.  Average surface temperature is 151.438°C.  No terraforming has occured.  Native life does not exist.

The hydrographic percentage is 0%.

The total world population is 10,000, living in ten primary cities and numerous small settlements.  The population of Frenzie regard high technology goods as status symbols

The representative authority for the world is a Self-perpetuating Oligarchy, in the form of an elite council.

Natural resources include ores and radioactives, while processed resources are primarily metals.  Software and documents are also exported.

Frenzie is the location of an Imperial Navy base, with facilities located on the surface, and in synchronous orbit, as well as in the planetary belt.



Stellatio     (Vilis/Spinward Marches 1216) D5A4420-4     Ni Fl              210 Im

The Stellatio system comprises a single star, an M9 III red giant, orbited by a total of seven planets, and a single sparse planetoid belt in the outer system.

The primary star has a mass of 9.2 Sol, and a luminosity of 7.2 Sol.

The mainworld, Stellatio 1  has a diameter of 8,320 km.  Its density is 0.94 Terra, diving a mass of 0.23 Terra, and gravity of 0.588 G.  The orbital distance is 38.8 AU and the orbital period is 29,103.412 standard days.  The rotation period is 60.0 standard hours, with an axial tilt of 32 degrees.  The orbital eccentricity is 0.0.

The atmosphere consists of a low pressure mix of gases, primarily oxygen, nitrogen and carbon dioxide, with dangerously high levels of chlorine.  Warning: chlorine concentrations are sufficient to cause skin irritation and burning.  Average surface temperature is 147.226°C.  No terraforming has occured, and native life forms do not exist.

The hydrographic percentage is 39%. The hydrospere is composed of liquid hydrochloric acid, located around the poles.  Warning: hydrochloric acid concentrations are sufficient to cause skin irritation and burning.

The total world population is 20,000, located in a single city, which is also the site of the world's sole starport.  The harsh conditions have led to a society which has a very strict regime for the training of their offspring, and stringent codes of conduct.

The representative authority for the world is a Participating Democracy, in the form of a demos.

The major natural resources are various ores.  Stellatio has no facilities for processing these ores, and exports them.

Tylen takes a deep breath and returns the womans smile.

"Tylen Orgesh, former scout, status retired. I saw the bulletin requesting former personnel to report in."

He tries to look relaxed.

The receptionist nods, and asks, "Can I have your Service Number, please?" and enters it into a datapad as Tylen supples it.

She watches as Tylen's details flow across a holographic display just above the surface of the desk, and one eyebrow arches slightly as she reads one portion of it, but her smile never slips.  From the wrong side of the desk, ie: the side where the crew of Profit Margin are standing, the characters appear faint, reversed, and unreadable...

"That all appears to be in order, Group Administrator Orgesh.  If you'd like to take a seat in the Waiting Area, somebody will be able to interview you in approximately... fifteen minutes.  Refreshments are available from the vending machines located in various places around the perimeter of the hall, should you, or your guests, require anything.  The machines accept Imperial Credits, Garda Vilis Pounds, and IISS vouchers."

"If there's anything else you need while you're waiting, please feel free to come and ask."

Tylen turns to the crew and shrugs,

"Well I guess thats the end of the shopping expidition for me folks. You guys go on and make the most of your free time, I've got my communicator so I'll call you if there's a chance I can catch you up."

He put a brave face on it, but secretly he was concerned that he hadn't been rejected out of hand, and the use of his rank did nothing to reassure him.

Shui frowns.  It's a small frown, but there nonetheless.  Worse, it's real, not a 'considering' frown.  Her gaze snaps to the screen and she steps forward, meeting the eyes of the secretary.  "His 'guests'?  Then it is permissable for us to remain."

At her waist, her hands come together for an instant. 

Without waiting for a reply (somewhat uncharacteristic of her), she turns back to Tylen.  "Mr. Ogresh, if you don't mind, I would like to wait with you.  As Medical Officer aboard the Profit Margin, I would be curious as to how the discussion procedes."  Her frown is gone, but no smile replaces it.

Tylen smiled,

"Company 'd be appreciated Doc, but don't you miss your shore leave on account of me, I don't reckon there's much the Scouts don't know about me medically, but I'd welcome a second opinion."

The eyebrow rises.  "Mr. Ogresh," Shui replies, a ghost of a smile on her lips, "my wardrobe will make do until our next stop.  Besides, I sincerely doubt this will take all day."  The eyebrow quirks slightly.  "Should it come to pass that I enjoy my leave in quiet conversation, fortified with the refreshments offered by the vending machines of the IISS facility, I will consider myself more than adequately entertained."

Growing more serious, she offers a small bow.  "I am more than happy to offer my own opinion on the matter, should it assist you."

The receptionist indicates that it would be perfectly acceptable for Tylen's companions to wait with him, should they wish to do so.

And so the group make their way to a quieter part of the waiting area and... wait.

Outside, clearly visible from where Profit Margin's crew sit, the gravcranes deposit their cargo near one of the maintenance shops, and a work crew, accompanied by a number of bright yellow drones move in to work on the ship, almost before the cranes have lifted clear.

From this angle, it can be seen that there is heavy damage alongside the ship's port maneuver thruster.

‘Hmmm’, Jago studies the readout thoughtfully for a while, then reaches out and flicks off the displays. As he stands, the captain stretches and rolls the cricks out of his shoulders.

It’s strangely quiet in the ship now with the drives and generators at rest and the crew and passengers all ashore. The air conditioning still murmurs to the tune of ground based power, and there are occasions clicks and clunks from devices under the controls of the never resting computer but there’s no movement or vibrations, the effect is strangely disconcerting.
.

"Well, well, well.  Seems as if the smell is not the only rank thing in the scouts, ey, Grope, er, Group Admin Ogle, uh, Ogre'sh?" Yas says to Tylen with a huge, toothy grin - and a wink.

"Should we leave them alone, Sas?" she then inquires of the engineer in a theatrical whisper from behind the back of her hand, "they might be looking for a room soon..."

"Ooo, lookit dat.  Bad pilot?" comes a chirp the next moment as she spots the damaged scout ship outside.

Saskia stifles a chuckle at Yas' play on the word "rank", wondering if it's a good idea to make fun of the Scouts in their own offices.  Certainly, the equivalent act would be tantamount to a declaration of war in a Naval facility.  Then again, she muses, the IISS are more relaxed.

When Yas comments on the ship, though, she moves a little closer to the window, trying to get a better view.  Cocking her head to one side, she studies the damage for a little while before announcing, "No, it looks like something blew inside her.  The power plant and drives weren't damaged though, otherwise she'd probably be parked in orbit with a hazmat team crawling all over her."

"Ah.  No doubt the air cleaner reaching a critical point, unable to take any more, and, as a last resort, decided to terminate its own existence.  Poor thing," Yas sighs, shaking her head slowly.

"You are a cruel, cruel woman, Yasmine Crow." Saskia says, sighing, then lowers her voice, "Cruel and heartless.  What did that poor little boat ever do to you?"

Shui notes the ship with a quick glance while fiddling with something on the holoscreen of her dataglove.  "Curious.  What might have blown then, Ms. Blake?  And why?"  She pauses, brows knitting together.  "Sabotage?"

Tylen runs his eye over the boat,

"I kinda guess it must have been something like that, there shouldn't be anything explosive in that section, least not if it was standard config."

"Unless they were using it to store something explosive." Saskia comments, with a shrug.  "I think I'm right in saying that's an open area that gets used for different things, depending on what's needed.  Survey gear, communications equipment, exercise room, whatever."

She thinks briefly, before continuing, "I don't know.  Charges for blasting out mineral samples, or something like that?"

Tylen thinks for a moment,

"Be kind of an odd place to store stuff like that, and even if it was being used as an extra cargo space you'd think that modern explosives would be pretty stable. I think the sabotage theory seems most likely, I mean, you really need to MEAN to blow something up these days."

He shakes his head,

"Anyway, let's see what kind of awful they've got in those vending machines, anyone for a generic unidentifible hot beverage?"

He smiles.

"I shall take one of those, Mr. Ogresh."  Shui glances up from her holoscreen again.  "As long as you do not give me whatever they have here they name 'tea'..."  She considers Saskia's explanation for a long moment.  Certainly it makes sense - and the simplest answer is often the correct one.  Sabotage would be a bit of a leap.  Poorly carried out sabotage, she notes with an analytical eye, even moreso.

The doctor shakes off that thought.  "I suspect the receptionist was only curious as to your rank, Mr. Ogresh.  I was concerned she might be perusing something of great import, so I took the liberty...."  A flick of the wrist opens up the full holo-screen above the dataglove (stealing power like mad), showing a holopic capture of the woman's screen.  Reversed, so that it is now ledgible.

Tylen's personnel file.

Shui 'disappears' the window almost instantly.  "I shall, of course, wipe this file without detailed examination," she continues.  "Your business, not mine."

Tylen smiles slowly

"I'd appreciate a copy Doctor, it would be worth knowing if anything has changed in my status."

He moves towards the nearest dispenser,

"Looks like Tea, Coffee or some kind of carbonated fruit drinks, probably safest with the fizz, at least if it's cold you won't taste too much."

Shui considers her options.  "On second though, Mr. Ogresh, I believe I will have tea."  Whatever unwholesome blend they might have here, it's better than the alternatives.  "As for the copy, I shall keep ahold of this long enough to print one out for you."  Her lips quirk for a moment.  "While my dataglove has many capabilities, printing is not one of them."

Perhaps unsurprisingly, no sooner have the refreshments been obtained, than a middle-aged man dressed in a manner which, in an earlier age, would have been characterised as "smart-casual" approaches the their table, apparently in something of a hurry.  He carries a datapad, which he refers to constantly as he makes his way across the room.

He stops, looks at Tylen, then refers to the datapad again.  Finally, smiling, he extends his right hand towards Tylen, in greeting, "Group Administrator Orgesh?  Sorry to keep you waiting, but things have been a little hectic around here since they announced the recall of all retired personnel and DD ships.  I'm Devin Schaller, Team Leader."

He looks around the group, "All of the cubicles are currently occupied.  We can talk this over here, if you have no objection to your guests being present, or we can go to one of the offices upstairs.  The choice is yours."

Saskia waits, while Tylen decides what he wants to do.  She keeps her eyes on the damaged ship outside thoug.  There is a certain sickening fascination about it for her - something that causes her stomach to knot up as she studies it.

She raises a hand to her forehead, and realises how much she's sweating.

No reaction to her jabs.  How dull.

Yasmine shrugs and turns her attention to studying the faces in the room.  Once she reaches Saskia, the first of the crew she looks at, an eyebrow attempts to reach the wild hairline of the ex marine captain.

"You 'kay there, Sas?" she inquires, her voice slightly tainted with genuine concern, but also curiosity.

"It's just a bit warm in here, I think." Saskia answers Yas' concerned inquiry.  "I should have had something cold to drink."

All the while she speaks, her eyes barely stray from the damaged ship.

"Or maybe the jacket was too much."

Yas' expression morphs into her soon trademarked lopsided grin.

"Or maybe you're just hot, girl," she teases the engineer and chuckles.  "I would suggest removing the jacket then.  Well, as long as you are wearing something else underneath, anyway..."

"But as for a cold drink, sure.  What would you want then?" she asks as she gets up to fetch herself a drink as well, or at least pay for it and hope that the scouts have better vending machines than they do air fresheners.

While Yas and Saskia head off to get something cold drinks, Devin Schaller seems to take Tylen's silence as an indication that Tylen will be happy to discuss this in front of his guests.  In any case, things have been busy around here, of late, and it will certainly go faster if he doesn't have to locate an office.

"Well, Sir... " he starts, laying the datapad before him, and glancing at it, "I'm afraid you've had a wasted journey over here today, to some extent, at least.  According to your record, the IISS does not consider you physically fit for duty in the Field, following an incident in early 1106."

"At the moment, we are calling back former Scouts to fulfil advisory and advance recon roles for the Navy, aboard warships.  Unfortunately, the fact that you were moved from the Field and into a Bureaucratic post, due to physical incapacity, prior to your resignation, means you don't meet the requirements set out for us by the Navy."

"I'm sorry to have wasted your time like this."

Behind him, Yas and Saskia are coming back.  The Scout spreads his hands, and shrugs, smiling apologetically at Tylen, before adding, "However, I do have a small proposition for you.  Would you be interested in doing a little job for us?  And do you have access to a vehicle capable of cross-country travel?"


On Profit Margin, Jago's wandering through the oddly quiet ship bring him to the Passenger Lounge.  All but two of the stateroom doors are open, displaying the deserted passenger accomodations within.  The door to Corlan's room is closed, and should, in all likelihood, remain closed until the ship's permanent passenger and honorary crewmember returns from his own enforced shore leave.

The other closed door is a little more problematic.  The prisoners are still in there and, possibly, will be wondering about their breakfast soon.  Although, given their behaviour since they were captured, they will probably be wondering about it extremely politely.

More long-term though, Jago needs to decide what to do with them.

Tylen paused, then replied

"Well I'd be happy to help, provided the job doesn't hold up my Ship. I have a small one man ATV, if that would be sufficient."

He's interested by the proposal, the earlier comments about his fitness still stung, even though his new life as a member of the Profit Margin crew has filled the gap that his enforced retirement from active duty had left in his life.

"What do you need, and what does it pay?"

He smiled.

"We also got the raft, that way we can get in your way and generally make you miserable," the ex marine jests with the ex scout.  She can relate to not being fit for service, having seen too many of her mates in the service being mustered out.  While the words are teasing, the expression on her face suggests that she is not only serious, but genuinely sincere.

Then she sips from her drink and makes a small grimace.  "Slight aftertaste, as if run through those filters," she mutters to herself, the teasing gleam back in her eyes again after the moment of earnestness.

Shui relaxes a hair.  It seems Tylen will not be forced into re-upping.  She fiddles with the file-pic a moment longer, keeping the holo-screen focused for her eyes only, then saves the package for passing on to Tylen's computer later.  Sending via mail, here in the middle of the Scout's building?  No, thank you.

Her ears perk up at the mention of the work.  Apparantly Tylen seems all-too-pleased to do a bit on the side - not a bad thing, in her opinion.  So she waits to hear the details, nodding slightly to Yasmine's offer.  They can assist, with ease.  It might make the work pass more quickly.

Jago stands for a while thinking, his eyes are aimed at the closed door but unfocussed and may as well be trying to see the prisoners within. The plight of the people in that room had been buried for a while under a heap of practical details concerning the refit, the cargo and the on going journey, but coming across the temporary brig has dragged it out from under.

After a few minuets the captain turns suddenly and strides purposefully towards the hold and the crew quarters, the decision made, but carrying it out is complicated by being somewhat outnumbered on the ship right now. Thoes people may be polite and co-operative, but that doesn’t mean that Jago actually trusts them.
.

"A one man ATV might not do the trick, I'm afraid." Schaller replies, though still smiling.  It seems that he's pleased Tylen might be interested in helping out.  "But you mentioned a ship?  Well, if you're just visiting Garda Vilis, you could combine this job with a little tourism."

"This isn't the only IISS facility on the planet.  We have a number of smaller stations dotted about - weather stations, research labs, communication relays, that sort of thing.  About two hundred kilometres from here we have a small solar observatory.  It's located in a mountainous region, with some spectacular scenery."

He studies Tylen, and the others around the table, briefly, assessing whether or not he still has their interest.

"Last night they reported a problem with one of their meson detector arrays, so we need to transport some components over there, so that they can conduct repairs."

"Unfortunately, as you can see, ships and personnel are at a premium just now, and this is distinctly low priority.  If you have a way to deliver two cases, massing a little under 35 kilos, in total, we'd rather give the job to one of our own, so to speak, than to an outside contractor.  We'd be prepared to pay you two hundred credits for doing it.  That would be cheaper for us than hiring a contractor."

Conrad raises his hand, "'fore he makes his decision on this, there's jus' one little detail y'all need to clear up for us."

"I saw on the datafile for this here rock that y'all've got some life-forms livin' out in the wild hereabouts.  Now the local police say we can't pack any weapons, so we'll need to know, are there any critters out there likely to decide to give us any attitude?"

Tylen acknowledged Conrad with a nod,

"My Colleague has a point, if there's a going to be a risk we'd need to ensure we were both legally covered and equipped to deal with it. Could permits be arranged for the duration of the trip to cover carrying something for self defence. We wouldn't want to go loaded for bear obviously, but shotguns or maybe a laser carbine?"

Shui considers the trip thoughtfully.  True, she wasn't exactly pressed to go out shopping - it would have been nice, but this sounds like it might be interesting, as well.  A good opportunity to see more of the planet.

Enthusiasm dims, slightly, at the thought of the hardware.  Well, she supposes that caution is the watchword.  She could certainly bring along her snub-pistol, with its non-lethal rounds.  Detestable thing, but one never knew when one might need it.

Yas focuses on finishing her drink, seeing as she appears mostly invisible.  Must be a scout thing, ignore any marines in their base.  After all, she could probably take them all with both hands and one leg tied behind her back, and blind-folded too.
This message was last edited by the GM at 06:43, Sat 19 July 2008.

Devin Schaller considers the question, very briefly, "The local life forms are mostly varieties of fungus, which have a symbiotic relationship with a highly successful algae species.  There are a few animals, but none that are particularly dangerous.  The biggest of them is a twenty kilogram armoured herbivore."

He smiles reassuringly, "The biggest predators that we have grow to roughly five kilos, and get to be about this big." Holding up both hands, he indicates something about twenty centimetres long.  "None of the animals we have is particularly fast, and we have no flyers, but one of them, called a damnthing, is mildly venomous."

"If you feel the need to take weapons along, the IISS has an agreement with the locals which says that Scout personnel, if operating out in the wilds, can use various small arms for pest control and protective purposes, and we can probably get your group authorised to carry pistols."

In his cabin Jago takes some cash from the safe and removes the mag from his snub gun.

“Just in case they want to get frisky,” he informs the ‘item’ on his desk in conversational tones.

After a quick check of the bridge to see that everything is locked down properly and can’t be reactivated without the proper codes, Jago heads back to the passenger lounge.
.

Tylen nods,

"That should about cover it."

If there had been larger creatures he would have suggested 'Sporting' weapons, Yas's Shotgun or his Lase, but it sounded like they would not be required. There was another reason for his request, in a society where weapons were restricted a group openly bearing arms with official sanction to do so would appear to have obvious authority which they might find more useful in a negotiation than the actual threat of the weapons themselves.

He turns back to the rest of the group.

"So what do you think? Shall we contact Jago and ask for a loan of the raft?"

"I see no driving reason why not, myself."  Shui frowns for a moment.  "Though we are certainly not dressed for such work."  She eyes Saskia's coat uncertainly, concerned by what work might do the expensive garment.  "And I still require a certain amount of time shopping while we are in port, but I'm sure my needs can be met at the port stores, should it come to that."

"It would be an interesting change to see the countryside, rather than yet another port," she muses.

Tylen looks abashed, in his excitement he had forgotten the planned shopping expedition. He turns back to the official,

"Well, my colleagues and I have some business to settle, but it sounds like we're up for the job. Let me settle some details and we'll call you back when we're set, if that's OK with you."

Schaller taps away at his datapad, speaking as he does so, "That would be entirely acceptable.  I can make the payment arrangements and have the consignment readied for collection in the meantime.  Just ask at reception when you return, and everything will be ready for you."

The datapad chirps.

"Ah... here we are.  This... "

A hologram shimmers into existence above the table, growing opaque and rotating slowly.



"... is a damnthing."


Jago finds himself outside the cabin door, and prepares to open it.  Everything sounds quiet in there.

"Seems like they nailed the name.  Not even five kg?  Small enough to pose a danger that way, easily concealed.  But, yes, sidearms would suffice, I would say.  Where is the best spot to shot these damnthings then, and is there any known antidote, if things go bad?" Yas says, giving the critter her best critical and judging look.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:38, Thu 24 July 2008.

"Oh my!  That's frelling little charmer, isn't it?  It's mostly teeth!" Saskia leans forward to study the damnthing a little more closely.

"When I see lifeforms like this, it just reminds me why I prefer to talk to my engines."

She wrinkles her nose in disgust, before asking a question of her own, "Those legs look quite scrawny, how fast is this thing, compared to, say, a typical ship's Engineer?  Because if I'm going to be killed by some animal, I'd really much rather it was a pretty one."

"Small, but toxic," Shui notes, partly to herself.  She gives Tylen a quick nod in recognition of his courtesy, the leans forward to study the creature.  "Fast, most likely, Saskia.  Creatures that depend on venom to hunt are usually quick, with notable exceptions.  It allows them to strike, then escape to safety while their prey expires."

Her free hand works her dataglove, hunting for further information on the beast.  "Well camouflaged, but not armored.  Definitely the quick sort.   Defensive protrusions around skull - it has predators.  Single-digit feet or legs...a hexapod.  Front limbs 'armed'.  Curious - likely for show, or battle between the beasts without resorting to the venom, assuming it's only injected through a bite.  Evolutionary design favours creatures capable of 'winning' without killing other members of the species.  'Favours' being a generalization."  Her mouth twitches in a grimace.  "All conjecture until I find some facts."

It's distressing, playing guessing games with new life forms.  Just when one thinks one has a system down, the next planet changes the rules....

"If you want one for a pet I can no doubt grab one for you, Doc," Yas tells Sushi with a relaxed grin.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:39, Fri 25 July 2008.

Tylen examines the hologram,

"Ugh! Suprised they didn't name it a Damn UGLY Thing!"

He listens to the Doc's analysis, and to the others comments.

"You're right Yas, even a snub pistol would finish something that size, but it would be tough to hit, I'd be more comfortable with your shotgun along, less chance of missing the nasty little beast."

He turns to the Official again,

"I don't suppose there's a readily available anti venom for this things bites? I'd feel happier with a few shots along just in case someone gets unlucky."

"Tell me about it, Ty.  A got just the thing on the ship, especially if these are hunters rather than ambush predators.  Hard to tell from this, really," Yas comments and waves her thumb in the general direction of the ship.

"Would that be possible to get authorised?  Only outside of the settlement, of course," she asks of the Scout Official with her best smile in place.

"They mostly lurk in holes in the ground, with their neck pulled back, and lunge out to bite anything that comes within reach, but sometimes they get hungry enough to move about and hunt.  They prefer rough ground and undergrowth, where they can still find places to hide.  They're about as fast as a human, all things being equal, but don't have good endurance."

"Mind you, that's local people.  The high CO2 content in the atmosphere can give problems for offworlders."

"The venom is a fast acting neurotoxin that breaks down the glycine and acetylcholine analogues used by the local fauna." Schaller explains, while smiling, reassuringly, "Typically, their prey loses gross motor control in about six seconds, and is paralysed in under a minute.  The whole process runs faster as the animal reacts to the shock of that huge bite.  Five minutes after the initial bite, most prey is normally dead, as its entire nervous system fails, but the damnthing doesn't generally wait five minutes to start feeding.  It users the slashers to carve the prey into chunks that will fit into its mouth, because its fangs aren't much use for that."

"The good news is that a human is much bigger than the thing's normal prey, and there are differences in the neurotransmitters involved, so people don't normally die from a bite, which doesn't stop the damnthing trying."

"For most people, there is a painful bite, and an hour or two later that's followed by nausea, headaches, and shaking.  That usually lasts two to three days, after which the victim starts to make a full recovery.  Usually, somebody bitten by a damnthing, is back to normal in about a week."

"And yes, there is an antidote.  It has to be administered within a couple of minutes of the victim being bitten, but since the bite isn't hard to notice, that isn't usually an issue.  I can arrange for a batch of antidote."

The Scout thinks for a moment, before tapping at the datapad's interface once more, "Ah, yes, the permit should cover shotguns used for hunting purposes, but all weapons must be kept unloaded within the city limits, and with the ammunition stored separately."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:48, Fri 25 July 2008.

"Reasonable," Yas replies and nods affirmatively.  Not that she believes it really will be needed, but she will feel a bit less naked if she can stroll about with her old friend in the fold of her arm.

"A batch of the antidote would be good too, right Doc?" she then adds, as if on afterthought, with such things taking a back seat to the more crucial topic of not going around "naked".

"I would use the term 'critical', Ms. Crow, but yes, I agree with your assessment."  She glances up from her dataglove, where she has been inputting the information.  "I will definitely take one of those batches, Mr. Schaller.  Several doses, at the very least - two for every person in the group, at minimum."

She doesn't bother asking for anything else - her own 'black bag', so to speak, no doubt holds equipment equal to or better than any first aid kit provided upon this particular planet.  If not, well...better to use the methods with which she has familiarity, than attempt something new in a crisis.

Yas' eyebrow arches at Sushi for a moment and then she chuckles.

"I meant the shotgun.  I'm confident you'd cover the rest," she says with a glimpse in her eyes and then ponders briefly before turning to the official anew.

"Just out of curiosity, is there anyone around here that would pay for a live specimen, for studying?"  She puts on her best businesslike smile, and not the business where she usually shoots the other a moment later.

Tylen checks his timepiece,

"Well guys, we'd best be getting on if we want to a bit of shopping before the trip. We need to fill Jago in on the plan as well, and ask for the loan of the raft."

Shui blinks, realizing she hasn't quite been clear.  "Apologies, Ms. Crow - I was referring to your assessment of the antidote, rather than the comment about the use of hunting arms."  She offers the other woman a quick smile.  "I will leave them in your capable hands."

With Tylen's pronouncement, Shui slowly stands, shifiting her body in miniscule ways to give herself a quick, inobtrusive stretch.  "Hopefully Captain Lanza will be amenable to the idea."

Schaller stands too, smiling, "It's been a pleasure speaking to yourself and your guests, Group Administrator Orgesh.  As I said, the consignment will be waiting for you, along with the payment, and a set of temporary weapon permits, upon your return.  Just give your name in at the reception desk and you'll be able to pick them up."

He picks up the datapad, and waits to see if there are any more questions.


Jago unlocks the door, and steps back half a pace as it slides open.

The erstwhile pirates are looking towards him as he appears in the doorway.  One of the men is laying on the bed, blinking sleepily.  The rest of the group are sitting on the floor, clearly interrupted in the middle of a card game.  They all look tired.

There is a definite smell in the air that flows out through the open door, a sure sign that that the air vents aren't up to the task of flushing the room's atmosphere fast enough.  Too many people in too small a volume.  Luckily, it seems that the system is able to purge the air before circulating it through the rest of the ship.

Jago looks around for a moment, studying each face in turn.

“You guys want to get off here?” he asks.

“I have a little bit of cash here, so you won’t have to sleep rough and you should be able to find work or wire home or whatever from the space port.”

“If you want, I’ll inform the authorities that we rescued you from a damaged ship just before we jumped, that might make it easier to replace your papers and stuff, though it will probobly tie you up in a lot of red tape for a while. Or you could just wander down the ramp and disappear into the crowd; you’ll have to find your own way through customs and immigration though, if you want to go beyond the space port.”

“The choice is yours.”
.

There is a brief exchange of looks, and then the former captain of Harper's Dream gets to his feet.  "You've already treated us far better than we deserve, Captain.  I believe I'm speaking for my whole crew when I say that we have all learned our lesson.  We will be more careful about who we take work with in future."

He gives Jago a very formal bow, "We are already in your debt, by virtue of the fact that you didn't just toss us out of the airlock, and haven't handed us over to the Navy.  We won't take any money off you, but the story about a rescue would make it easier for us to stay on the straight and narrow, now that we've been helped back onto it."

“Here, don’t go telling everyone that I’m some kind of saint,” Jago grins “I have to keep a bit of street cred.”

“I’ll inform the authorities that I have some rescued spacers aboard but won’t give them any details, you guys can fill in the gaps.”

“As there are no passengers aboard, you can stretch your legs in the lounge but please don’t go beyond that.”

Jago leaves the state room door open as he heads back to the bridge, but makes sure that the iris valve to the hold is properly secured.
.

The former pirates, if that is the correct term for a group so singularly inept in that role, move out into the lounge, taking in the fresher air (as opposed to the air from the fresher) outside their makeshift cell.  They realise, pretty quickly, that they have simply moved to a somewhat larger prison, but it is one where they all have somewhere to sit, other than the floor.


Over at the IISS facility, Tylen and his guests take their leave, and head back to the airraft.  The question now comes down to a simple choice... do they contact Jago, and tell him what's happening, or do they go shopping first, and then contact him?

The former choice has the benefit of speed.  The latter holds the possibility of obtaining something to offer the Captain, by way of a mood sweetener...


When Jago gets back to his console, he finds replies to two of his messages waiting for him.  First, a representative of a government sanctioned company has agreed to take the cargo, including the iridium ingots, off his hands, for exactly the requested ammount.  They can have a transport over to collect it within the hour of receiving Jago's approval of the deal.

Second, Profit Margin can be taken in to the yards first thing tomorrow morning.

As soon as the party is clear of the facility, Tylen turns to his colleagues.

"OK people, how do you feel about this deal? Do we tell Jago the news now, or do we go shopping first? @Course, if we shop first we might find a little pressie for the Boss that would swing his mood in our favour."

Tylen doubts that Jago will say 'no' to the mission, but there's no harm in a little insurance.

Shui cocks an eyebrow, checks the clock (she refuses to call it a chronometer) on her dataglove.  Early, yet.  "I have doubts Captain Lanza will refuse us, though he might wish to accompany.  One benefit of leaving now is that we should return for dinner, with funds to spend."  She taps a fingertip on her lips.  "Unless someone has a different idea...?"

"Always, always inform your superior," Yas says with a wicked grin and then continues, "even if it is just to inform him.  We may be on leave, but he is still the one paying our salary, plus, I would say, he's a friend.  Just don't tell him that, eh?"  The last statement is evidently a jest, judging by the impish smile on her face.

Tylen grins back,

"Well that swings it for me."

He pulls out his com and activates it.

"Come in Profit Margin, can you hear me Captain?"

While Tylen contacts Jago, Saskia leans against the side of the raft, and waits.  She tips her head back, eyes closed, as the rain falls onto her face.  After several seconds, she looks down again.

"I hope we don't get to meet one of those frelling damnthings in the flesh.  Even if it didn't bite me, just the look of it would make me sick."

Then she laughs, "Do you suppose they're blind?  Only I don't think one of them could ever attracting a mate who could see."

"Nah, think I saw some kind of eyes at the nose.  Then again, those might be fake.  I bet you, thought, that ya-know-who wudda tried to... score... with the female of the species, though, eh," Yas replies to Saskia with a wink and a not so little mischievous look to her.

"Oh yeah." the engineer replies, chuckling, "Ridge was that desperate.  Bet you're glad you aren't the one who has to sit at his old gunnery post.  Never know what's in there."

On the flight deck, Jago responds to his messages, first giving the go ahead for the cargo transfer, and then confirming the move to the yard, finally he sends a message of his own to the port authority, briefly outlining the plight of the ‘rescued’ crew of the Harpers Dream, though he doesn’t mention that ship by name.

So, all is right with the world, Jago settles back into the familiar comfort of his well worn pilots chair and examines the cigar he’s been carrying around for the last couple of weeks. The cigar’s end is a bit damp, but still serviceable, Jago wipes it on the sleeve of his comfortable and well worn bomber jacket and pops it into his smile as he produces a lighter from one of his pockets.

A little beep from the comms panel interrupts the flame on its way to the cigar, and Jago toggles the switch as the lighter returns to his pocket, “Tylen, how’s everything going?”
.

Yasmine Crow merely laughs at Saskia and shakes her head, the grin now going form ear to ear - or at least trying to.  Then Jago gets back to Tylen and she calms down to allow the two of them to converse without someone guffawing in the background.

She still snorts occasionally, while nodding to the engineer as if to confirm her conclusion about gunnery posts.

(NPC'd)

Tylen quickly explains the situation to Jago - the few hours of work he has been offered, the agreed payment, the opportunity to explore a little in an, apparently, scenic area.  He also mentions that temporary licenses will be issued for hunting weapons for the duration of the trip.

“That’s fine, you have five days to do whatever you want while the Profit Margin is in the ship yards. I’ll be booking us all into a hotel, unless you have plans of your own. You’d better just make sure that you have everything you need before the morning, access might be a little restricted after that.”
.

"What about our guests?" Yas interjects, suspecting she already knows the answer. "I assume they have been seen to, or do you wish us to assist you in this matter, boss?"

She intentionally keeps it vague and in general terms, in case someone happens to overhear something.

“I’ve made arraignments for our guest,” Jago says, grinning to himself as he dismisses several amusing little wind ups from his mind, “and Mr DeSant is making his own arrangements.”
.

"You're on top of it all as usual, boss.  Which why you're the boss, of course," Yas replies to him in a semi-serious tone of voice and a chuckle.

“You’ll be using the air raft I take it, will you be coming back here to collect weapons?” Jago asks.
.

"Correct about the raft.  As for weapons, I can only speak for myself, but yes, I have permission to bring along a gun," comes the answer from Yas, naturally not counting the guns that may or may not be on her person already.

"A hotel?" Saskia mutters, looking a little worried, "Last hotel I was in burned down."

Then, after a brief pause, her expression suddenly shifts to one of horror, as she realises how that must have sounded, and she quickly adds, "But I had nothing to do with that.  It was the Vargr.  They wouldn't let him stay there, because he was in a mess, so he started a fire."

Shui blinks in mild surprise at Saskia's tale of razed hotels.  "I shall have to remember this for further dealings with the Vargr," she says, still keeping track of Yasmine's conversation with Jago.  All seems to be going well, though it's a trifle embarassing that the Captain has made arrangements for their guests.  Your job, she castigates herself.

Conrad starts to look a little worried, and finally says, "Well now.  Reckon I could do with spendin' a little time packin' stuff for the vacation, an' tidyin' up 'fore them boys come in to do the work."

"If any of y'all can fly the raft, I can miss out on the trip, an' we can meet up at the hotel.  How'd that be?"

The crew starts to climb back into the air-raft...

"I'll take the controls," Yas says confidently and moves into the correct seat - a promising start, at least.

"Let's get this thing on the road then.  Well, off the ground and into the airways then.  I'll try to steer clear of the ground," she reassures the others with a grin that is perhaps a bit too wide for comfort.  "Are we all strapped in?  Never knows if I do a roll or a loop or something!"

The air-raft lifts... well... more sort of lurches in the approximate general direction of "up".  There is an odd metallic scraping, which might be the motor losing its bearings, but is more probably the whip antenna of a parked groundcar rubbing across the underside of the 'raft, as the latter vehicle staggers sideways a little on its way to the sky.

Yas, her tongue protruding momentarily from one corner of her mouth, regains control, and corrects the distinct list that their transport had developed.

Soon she has it heading in the desired direction.  Though the altitude is a little erratic, managing to convey the impression of an ocean voyage in a small boat...

"Ha!  Nothing to it!  What's the fuss about licence anyway?" Yas exclaims triumphantly as she, in her own words, takes off with ease and divine graze - although some probably would call it divine grace instead.

Evidently she does know how to operate one of these things, albeit it is no doubt a safe bet that it is not something that she entertains regularly.

So far everyone seem to still be inside the vehicle, which admittedly must be a good thing.

Tylen grimaces, beginning to wonder if he should have been more outspoken and offered to drive. He tightens his grip on the arm rest.

"Just keep thinking what Jago will have to say if put a dent in this thing Yas."

He warns, hoping the ex-Marine will practice a little caution.

Gripping the side of the vehicle with the white knuckled fingers of one hand, Saskia laughs nervously at Tylen's remark, "What Jago would say would depend if he was a passenger, and if he survived the experience.  He's not as young as he once was."

After a few seconds thought, she adds, "Nor am I, for that matter.  I think I'm at least ten years older than I was before Yas offered to drive."

Back in the passenger quarters, Jago addresses the Harpers Dream people.

“Door's open, you can go. I’ve told the port authorities that we picked you up from a badly damaged ship just before jumping out of Arkadia, nothing more than that. I won’t shake your hands, but I won’t give you a lecture either.”

“Go on then, get, and better luck in the future.”
.

Tylen grins at the engineer,

"Well let's just hope you live long enough to catch up!"

He says, then turns back to the driver,

"Easy Yas, this isn'y one of your Marine live-fire excercises! We'll do just fine getting there without a body count!"

The crew of the wreck formerly known as Harper's Dream respect Jago's wishes.  None of them offers to shake his hand, though they do offer nervous smiles of gratitude, and muttered words of thanks.  It is clear from their eyes that they are all aware that they got off lightly with this, their first foray into piracy.

Of course they are in a strange port, without a credit to their names, but given that they are alive, things could have been much worse.

Within a few seconds, they are gone, leaving nothing behind but the smell of people who have spent a week crammed into a single, overcrowded room, with an overworked life-support system.

As if breathing a sigh of relief, the air vents kick into their next cycle, purging the atmosphere in the lounge, and soon, even the odour of the pirates is gone.

Now, Jago is truly alone.


Yas swings the raft round in a long arc, moving into the traffic pattern above the port, and sweeping around the perimeter of the field, towards the pit where Profit Margin sits.

Minutes later, and has her familiarity with the vehicle returns, she finds herself dropping down next to the ship.  This is the last chance to grab any legally allowed equipment for the trip, as well as the newly-permitted weapons.

Shui silently holds on for dear life.  Perhaps she should have spoken up about her own experience with these vehicles before, but Yasmine seemed so determined.  She can, the doctor notes, keep the vessel going in the proper direction, high enough to avoid obstacles.

That's something.  Hopefully it'll be enough.

A thought occurs to her, though.  "Ms. Crow..."  The doctor, slightly pale, leans forward as the raft drops down to park beside the ship.  "Given our situation, and the possible need for quick reactions with regards to dangerous fauna, might it not be better to have the weapon's officer at her duties, and someone else piloting?"  She glances around at the rest of the group, assessing.  Tylen, obviously, is better suited to defense than herself.  "Ms. Blake or myself can drive, to allow you and Mr. Ogresh the freedom of your arms -" multiple meanings, there "- and we can avoid returning from our trip with a geriatric engineer."

Tylen smiles,

"That would be a good plan Doc, what about it Yas? You want to ride Shotgun?"

He steps out of the vehicle.

"I'll collect my stuff, anyone want anything fetched?"

Conrad hops out of the raft, and heads for the ramp.  He walks up into the quiet ship, and looks about.  Then he heads for the intercom unit at the top of the ramp.  "Jago?  Where y'all at?"

Once he has his answer, he makes his way to wherever the ship's captain happens to be.

"Hey, Jago.  I can take over here, while y'all go out with the others.  I got me some things I can do while I'm here, like grabbin' down updated navdata off the local net, an' I can meet everybody later."

"Just let me know what needs doin', an' I can handle it."

Jago is, as it turns out, going through the port's news feeds when Conrad finds him.  There doesn't seem to be much going on just now, in spite of the war.  Which either means that things are quiet, or that communications networks are being disrupted...

---

Quare/Vilis (0105-B200545-9) Date: 232-1107

Authorities at Quare today issued the following advisory to all shipping in the Quare system.

+ + + NAVIGATION HAZARD WARNING + + +

Two Knnn ships are currently active in the Quare system.  While they have made no approach to any of the system's planets, they have shown the usual Knnn disregard for traffic regulations.

Ships' masters are advised to avoid contact with the Knnn vessels.  No attempt to communicate with them should be made, due to the unpredictability of their reactions.

---

As no answer seems forthcoming Tylen heads into the ship. He goes directly to his cabin and straps on his rig, loads the revolvers and checks the charge on his carbine. The Laser would seem to be the most suitable and appropriate weapon for defence against hostile wildlife, but the revolvers are a habit and he feels comfortable wearing them. He heads back to the raft to find out how the others are getting on with their preparations.

“Thanks Conrad, but I’ll be sticking around during the upgrade.”

“You guys have all got a bit of a bonus coming by the way, it works out at around 150K each, after splitting with the Ore Hound. I should have that ready for you by the time you get back, as long as the air raft is intact, otherwise I’ll be making a deduction.”

Jago might be joking but he keeps a straight face.
.

Saskia has a gun, somewhere in her cabin, and a blade that she can take with her.  She could have asked Tylen to fetch them, but she isn't really sure where they are.  Beside which, she needs to change her clothes -- the groat jacket probably isn't best suited for a trip into the wilderness.

Once in her quarters, she carefully hangs her jacket back in the closet, and drags a more utalitarian tunic out of a storage crate under her bunk.  A quick check to make sure it isn't too dirty, before she pulls it on and fastens it up.  A quick check in the mirror, and she pats the Shata Lunoqi patch on the left shoulder, just for luck.

The blade is easy to find.  The thirty centimetre weapon can double as a tool, and Saskia always remembers where she leaves tools.  The gun is more problematic.

"If I was an autopistol," the engineer mutters to herself, "where would I hide?"

"Excellent point.  We might have use of someone to blast threats while travelling in the raft, and who's better qualified than me since I got permission for my little guns now?"

The Security Officer seems to accept the idea and marches off to change into something more suitable for the trip - that is, strap her bigger guns on.  What other change of outfit could possibly be needed, in her world?  None.

Quickly and efficiently, after years of drilling, she returns to the raft sporting  the automatic shotgun.  Still no sign of the revolvers, but that means nothing in her case.

"Locked and loaded," she grins happily, finally feeling fully dressed again.  A shame she has nothing bigger, though.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:16, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Shui's own preparations require minimal time, to say the least.  She simply walks into the ship, into her cabin, and opens a drawer.  There sits the snub pistol, cleaned and ready.  Slipping a clip of non-lethal munitions into the weapon, Shui drops it into the pocket of her coat, snags her 'black bag', and walks back out the door.

Taking up her position in the cab of the raft, Shui greets the others as they arrive. The pistol is an unwelcome weight in her pocket - even supposedly non-lethal munitions can kill if used improperly, and Shui knows she is far from expert with the little tool.

Tylen is the first back, from the look of it.  "Mr. Ogresh."  She nods to the ex-scout.  "You appear...well, as prepared as you were when we first met," she finishes, one eyebrow raised in an ironic quirk.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:56, Sun 14 Sept 2008.

Conrad leaves the bridge and goes to his cabin, where he collects his snub pistol, and two clips of ammo, one each of tranq and HE rounds.  Personally he'd prefer to use just the tranq, but if the damnthing proves resistant to that, then HE might be the way to go.  He shoves the gun in his jacket pocket, and exits.

Back outside, he approaches the group near the raft, grinning, as he announces, "Jago don't trust me none to keep an eye on things here, so looks like I'll be drivin' this crate after all.  Y'all got your boom sticks?"

Shui immediately vacates the driver's seat, giving Conrad a slight bow as she reaches a firmer position.  "Mr. Dietz."  Her lips twitch in a smile.  "Certainly your company is a welcome addition to this outing....as are your skills."  She makes a small wave of the hand toward the controls.  "While I am adept at such things, it seems wiser to have a profession behind the wheel."  A quick glance shows her no obvious weapons on the man.  Sensible, given he plans on driving, rather than taking 'pot-shots' at the native fauna.

Inside, she still hopes it won't come to that.  Native fauna or worse - natives.  No matter how civilized the planet, there will always be those who defy convention and law.

Saskia walks down the ramp, securing her gun belt about her waist as she goes.  The  weapon, a Krifarm 11mm feels awkward, banging against her hip.  Even in the navy, she'd only carried a gun during combat ops, and only then because regs required it, in case the ship was boarded.

Even then security personnel or Marines, like Yas, would be expected to do the vast bulk of the shipboard fighting.  Engineers had only been issued weapons for use as a last resort.

"I'm ready to go.  You coming with us after all, Conrad?"

One by one, the crew return to the vehicle.  There seems to be a certain feeling of excitement and anticipation in the air, which is probably not too surprising.  It's rare for any tramp merchant's crew to get a holiday, rarer still when that merchant has been involved in covert operations.

Add to which that most ship crews tend to stay close to home, their ship.  Usually their free time is spent inside the starport's extra-territoriality perimeter, or in the adjacent startown.  Very few crewmembers get to see the actual worlds they are visiting, other than from low orbit.

This is different.

Profit Margin's crew are going to travel away from the port, into the wilderness, where Mother Nature (or whatever passes for her on Garda Vilis) awaits them, in all her majesty.

And they are going to be paid for doing it.

Tylen shrugs, feeling suddenly awkward about carry weapons so openly.

"Well Doc, the Scout motto has always been 'Be Prepared', leastways I've always made it my motto."

His hand brushes the butt of his pistol,

"When you're on you're own and the territory is hostile these become something of a habit, like you're not dressed without them."

In truth, Tylen does appear more at ease wearing the battered gunbelt, as if he feels offballance without the weight of the heavy guns.

Settling into the passenger seat, Shui feels a rush of shame at Tylen's embarassment.  "Of course, Mr. Ogresh - I am certainly not surprised, given your long experience in the Scouts."  And long lifetime, she thinks, but does not add.  "Venturing into possibly hostile territory must bring out old instincts - old, useful instincts."

She indicates Saskia, arriving with her heavy automatic at her hip.  "Even engineers, it seems, come prepared," Shui notes, mentally castigating herself for her failed witticism.  Its possible her discussions with Jago on the subject of violence have made others uneasy, made them feel judged.  A poor job you have done, Shui.

Conrad looks forlornly at Saskia, "Yeah, reckon I am.  Jago don't want me lookin' after his baby.  Sorry, I mean your baby."  Then he chuckles, "So if'n y'all are ready, ladies an' gentleman, I can hop us on over to the Scout offices again, an' we can move on out an' get ourselves a look at some countryside."

The trip back to the IISS facility is uneventful, with Conrad's expert handling of the 'raft, and soon the group are standing before the receptionist again.  She has the weapon permits ready, requiring nothing more than signatures and thumbprints to complete them.  There are also two metal cases, containing the consignment to be delivered, and a map, printed onto a sheet of plastic, showing the location of the observatory where the cases are to be delivered.

Lastly, there is an envelope, bearing Tylen's name.

The cases are small, for their mass.  Clearly the components are somewhat dense.

The receptionist, the same Syda Genushadinir who had dealt with them earlier, quickly checks the permits over, one last time, before handing them over to the appropriate people.  "I think that covers everything.  Do you have any questions?"

Simply to give himself a moment to think, Tylen opens the envelope and examines the contents. Best to check all the details are correct and there's no hidden agenda, he thinks to himself.

Syda Genushadinir smiles, as Tylen opens the envelope and extracts the small bundle of Imperial currency.  The bills are in various denominations, and amount to Cr200, the sum agreed upon with Schaller.

There is also a card, from Schaller himself, on one side is the Scout's contact information, and on the other side a hand-written note, "With thanks for your assistance."

Tylen smiles,

"Well, that all seems to be in order. Anyone got any last points we need to clarify before heading out?"

A twinge of unease strikes Shui for a moment, but she banishes it.  This mission is taken from the Scouts, not an untrustworthy source.  She shakes her head.  "I count myself well-prepared, Mr. Ogresh."

"I'm good." Saskia says, with a nod, and a smile for the receptionist.  After a brief pause for thought, she adds, for the benefit of her crewmates, "The sooner we get going, the sooner we can come back and taunt Jago with what he missed out on."

And the sooner I can get out of these frelling boots.

Tylen grins at the engineer's sally

"Well let's hope the ride's interesting enough for us to have something to brag about, though personally I'd prefer a quiet and boring ride."

Some niggling sixth sense told the ex-scout that this was unlikely to be the case. The Scout service were hardly likely to pay hard credit to a free lance outfit to perform a task that could be carried out by a taxi firm.

"OK, let's get mounted up then."

The air-raft is crowded, with all of Profit Margin's crew aboard (except Jago), plus the two equipment cases they are supposed to deliver.

Conrad studies the map which has been provided, then links into the planet's GPS satellite net - one of the benefits of being in a system where the local populace has emerged from the prehistoric depths of the steam age, and has digital systems in orbit.

Within a matter of minutes they are airborne again, and flying out of the small city which surrounds the starport.  An alarm chimes, warning them that they have left the port's traffic control zone.  Conrad climbs another three hundred metres, and accelerates the 'raft to its maximum speed of one hundred kph.

There are faster, newer grav vehicles about, but this model, constructed by Ling Standard products is reliable enough, and will get to its destination eventually.  Even if that destination is in low orbit.

The wilderness below them is rugged, with sparse vegetation, most of it assorted lichens, which appear almost black in the dull reddish light filtering through the cloud cover.  The rain has stopped again, though the sky threatens more, and some time soon.

Shui leans out through the window, closing her eyes against the wind.  She breathes the fresh, cool air of higher altitude than ground and lets the wind run its fingers through her hair.  Far too long in a ship.  Far too long without this.  A wide smile breaks through her customary tranquility, and she reaches out with one arm like a child, cutting the air with extended fingers, then closing them into a blade she allows the wind to whip up and down, her arm flexing.

Abruptly her hand spasms open and her fingers catch the wind, snapping her arm back before she can control it.  Her eyes remain shut, but the smile dims.  Momentarily.  After a moment, the memory passes and she brightens again, though not quite as much as before, and she draws her hand back within the cabin.

"Wonderful!  Mr. Ogresh, thank you for this opportunity!"  Her eyes open and she studies the rest of the passengers.  "Walking is all very well and good, but sometimes one needs something more," she notes, her eyes sparkling.  Her warm hand rakes at her hair, settling it in place; she relishes the icy feeling in her other hand's fingers, the wind having stripped away its heat.

Note - I'm assuming there's a big cab on this for people.  If we're all outside on benches, I'll change things a touch.  :)

Conrad points off to the left, "Shame we ain't headed over thataways.  I noticed when I was checkin' the database on the way in, there's some sort of experimental project goin' on here to increase the oxygen levels in the air, usin' plants, real plants - not the local molds an' fungus - from half the worlds in the sector."

"So there's a domed outpost over over there, where they're checkin' which ones can handle the light wavelengths here, an' still produce plenty of oxygen."

He smiles, as he adds, "They use it as a tourist attraction too.  Maybe we can get to see it another day."

Tylen grins at the Doc's playfullness,

"You can't beat a drive in the country Doc."

He turns and squints in the direction Conrad has indicated.

"Well if Terra-Forming is your bag I guess it could be interesting. Maybe if we make good time we can swing back that way."

"A terraforming location."  Curious name for the process - an old word, its roots lost in antiquity, but still in use, as Tylen proves*.  "To 'assist' this world in becoming more supportive for humanity?"  Shui weighs that in her head.  "If the process is slow enough, the local flora and fauna will adapt.  A fine tourist attraction, for those who enjoy such things.  Perhaps tomorrow, or later this week should the Profit Margin remain long enough."  She would enjoy that, Shui decides.  It would be well worth the time.

"It has been far too long since I have taken the time for a weekend drive, as my parents used to put it, Mr. Ogresh."  She leans back, far more relaxed than is her wont.  "The pleasures of youth should not be forgotten."  It's good to remember not everything was unpleasant - much of her younger years were quite enjoyable.  "I expect you have done quite a few 'country drives' yourself.  And Mr. Dietz as well, along with Ms. Crow."

Likely she and Saskia are the two most out of their element, in the aircar over the wilderness below.

*_{Funny, I used the same word without realizing it... :)}

"I suppose some of the plants could be interesting, you know, flowers and stuff.  Maybe a few have medical uses too." Saskia chips in.  "They certainly can't be any less pleasant than the local wildlife."

She gazes out of the raft, one hand resting on the side.  "Anyway, it might be something to keep my mind off what the port techs are going to be doing to Profit Margin."

The best part of three hours passes...

Aboard Profit Margin, Jago's peace and quiet is rudely, if not unexpectedly, shattered by the arrival of the work team who have come to unload the cargo.  Well, if "team" is the right word for a lone woman, dressed in a spotless coverall and accompanied by a pair of boxy machines, each about the size of an air-raft and gliding along about half a metre above the ground.

The paperwork (and, Jago notes, here it really is on paper) all looks to be in order.  At a command from the woman, the machines move into the hold, extending sets of grabs from their front ends, and start removing the containers.

As each container is brought out, the woman checks the markings on it and directs the droid to carry it up and out of the landing bay, where they are stacked, for later collection.


In the air-raft, the rest of the crew have lapsed into silence.  The scenery is becoming moderately impressive, an example of what erosion can do on a world with little in the way of large plants to protect the terrain.  As the raft travels away from the city, and into a highland region, the ground grows progressively more rugged.

At first Conrad attempts to maintain a straight course, but it soon becomes apparent that the increased altitude involved in climbing over some of the hills, coupled with the high CO2 content in the air, make that option a little uncomfortable, so he settles instead for dropping down and following the valleys.

Once they pass over a road, with heavy ground traffic, and a short while later they see their first animals, a herd of shaggy, slow moving, low-slung creatures, perhaps a metre long, and blue-grey in colour, which seem to be eating the lichen from the rocks.  They also seem to be quite efficient at it, judging by the strip of almost entirely denuded ground behind the herd.

As Conrad takes the air-raft lower, for a closer look, the animals scatter, fleeing at a speed comparable to a brisk stroll.

Not long after that, Conrad swings the raft through a gap in the hills and into an adjoining valley, where a thin column of smoke comes into view in the distance ahead.

Tylen points out the smoke,

"Conrad, you want to take a closer look at what's causing that? Could be it's natural, but I think we should make sure. A column of smoke in the wilderness could mean someone's having a really bad day."

He cradles his carbine and flicks the selector to 'maximum discharge single shot' without taking his eyes off the smoke.

At the sight of smoke, Shui's relaxed demeanor vanishes, and she immediately checks for her black bag.  Finding it at her side, the doctor leans forward unconciously, searching for a better look.  "I absolutely agree.  Someone might be injured, or in need of assistance."

Conrad drops the raft lower, barely two metres above the ground, and heads towards the smoke...

As they get closer, it becomes clear that it's a campfire, not burning particularly well, probably due to the atmospheric composition, coupled with the drizzling rain, which has started up again.  Three shapes are around the fire, but specific details are hard to make out, as they are all bundled up in tarpaulins or heavy coats of some kind.

The air-raft comes to within about a hundred metres of the fire, and one of the shapes grows taller, making it clear that it had been seated previously.  An arm is raised, and the figure waves frantically at the approaching vehicle.

Tylen peers through the gloom then turns to Conrad.

"Let's not get too close, there looks like a few of them and we don't know the situation yet. Mebbe I should go talk to them while you hang back."

He looks across at the ex Marine,

"Can you cover me Yas?"

"I will go with you, Mr. Ogresh."  Shui gathers up her bag.  "These people may be suffering from acute exposure, and may require immediate medical attention.  Immediate."  The doctor's voice holds no give - the line between life and death can sometimes be measured in minutes, and she isn't willing to take that chance.

"While I promise to stay behind you, Mr. Ogresh, and to 'hit the deck' if the situation goes poorly, I cannot remain here.  And it may do better to have two of us down there."  She checks her snub pistol once, for Tylen's benefit - non-lethal ammunition is loaded.  "Seeing that you have immediate 'backup', as well as offering medical assistance...it might hold off a hysterical reaction."

There is, of course, the possibility of this being a trap of some kind.  But Shui simply cannot factor that into her decision.  They may require help, now - they will receive help.  Now.

Saskia doesn't bother reaching for her gun.  She knows she couldn't hit anything smaller than a cruiser at anything beyond point blank range anyway.  She might just as well save her ammunition until she has a better chance to hit something, and holding the gun might encourage one of the people near the fire to regard her as a priority target.

Instead, she tries not to get in the way.

She does, however, offer her strictly amateur opinion, "It seems like a strange place for an ambush anyway.  We're not on the highway, we're in the outback, so thieves would have slim pickings."

"Does a Targuain swine stink?" Yas replies with a grin and checks up on her weapons, making them ready to be use if needed.  "I would recommend me going with you, though, they still outnumber us as far as we can tell from here.  As you say, Sas, odds are they are in more trouble that we would be if they indeed have some ill planned ambush for travellers set up here in this remote area."

Tylen nods,

"OK Doc, like you say it could be nothing but it never hurts to be ready. You just be sure to get down flat if anything kicks off and crawl like mad back towards the hover."

He looks across at Conrad,

"If you put us down, then take her up to a hover and stand off we should be OK."

He grins at Yas,

"Never hurts to have your back up close, I know I don't have to tell you your job, but keep an eye on our six anyway, some of these 'tethered goat' traps involve a stronger force in concealment....come to think of it, that sounds like something out of the Marine Basic Infantry primer so I guess it don't need repeating!"

Relieved, Shui ducks her head.  "Thank you, Mr. Ogresh.  Most assuredly I will."  She checks in her bag, nodding to herself while keeping half an ear on the conversation, the better to know the plans should the worst transpire.  "Hide one's strength while drawing out enemies," she murmurs, fingers busy cataloging her bottles and hyposprays.  "Offer something of value..."  The words trail off as she finishes.

"Ready.  One hopes you are correct, Ms. Blake," she replies to Saskia's optomism.  "One prays most earnestly."  Her gaze flicks to Yasmine; Shui hopes to avoid violence, and with Yasmine on the high ground, offering suppressive fire, ambushers may reconsider.

"Preaching to the chior, boy, preaching to the choir.  I can also accidentalyl slip up and reveal to them we got more marines behind us.  Not far from the truth after all, since we got both Doc and Sassy -- everyone knows girls kick butt, after all," Yas replies, adding "But if they camp out here waiting for strangers to happen by that they can ambush, well, then their collective IQ is probably less than my girdle measurement.  And that aint' much," she rounds of with a chuckle.

She then falls into a more serious attitude and nods that she is set to go, the shotgun held at ready.

The air-raft descends a good 25 metres from the feeble campfire, and the individual steps forward, three or four paces, before stopping and throwing back the hood of the bulky orange coat that he's wearing, to reveal a round face, with a ruddy complexion, topped with a shaggy mop of dark hair, and with a couple of days growth of stubble on his chin.

Behind him, a second person stands, this one much taller, easily topping two metres, and looks to be broad-shouldered in proportion.  This one keeps its hood up for the moment, and doesn't move any closer.  Instead it just stands in the same place where it had been sitting.

The third person remains seated, head down, and face hidden.  Long red-brown hair hangs from the opening of his hood.

The first man looks puzzled, staying back, and finally calls, "Sorry, we thought you were somebody else.  My client has injured his leg.  We called in for help, and thought you were it.  I can see now that you're not."

He looks at his companions, then back to the air-raft, "Sorry we bothered you.  The people we called should be here soon."

Closing in on the trio, Shui frowns momentarily, her eyes raking over them.  The spokesman, the sitting person...she notes them, then moves on.  The standing one.  She studies him briefly, then long-neglected reflexes take over, and she lets her gaze drift back to the spokesman, watching the second man with her peripheral vision.

Very tall.  Strongly built.  And...more reflexes begin to reassert themselves, and suddenly the pieces click together.  His posture is wrong, all wrong.  A human (assuming he or she is such) might hold themselves so if injured or carrying something heavy...but not if standing casually.  Suspicion grows.

But one of them, the seated one, may very well be injured.

"I might treat the injured leg," she says quietly to Tylen, their own spokesperson, and hefts her bag meaningfully.  Continuing, she holds her voice at the same volume - low, considering, but not whispering.  Certainly audible to Yasmine as well.  "The hooded one stands curiously, do you not think?"
This message was last edited by the player at 19:08, Thu 23 Oct 2008.

Saskia stays back, leaning against the side of the air raft.  From there she can see just as well as from anywhere else, and still be just as likely to be useful if it comes down to a fight of any sort.

More useful in fact.

She can get to the air raft's tool kit from here, giving her ready access to her weapon of choice: the largest torque wrench she can lay her hands on.

Still, there is something naggingly familiar about the silent man, standing behind the one who is doing all the talking.

"There's something about him that reminds me of somebody.  Frell it!  I wish I could remember who."

"I'd say we aren't welcome, shady stuff going on here," Yasmine says quietly and without moving her lips as to not give anything away to the strangers.  "Why else here and why greet first craft they see?"

She does not move but since she has already prepared her arsenal she is ready if need be.

Tylen nods slowly, his carbine held ready, but muzzle pointing down.

"If you're sure you don't need any help, then we'll let you be but the offer stands if your friend is in pain."

He maintains eye contact with the leader.

A deep rumbling sound comes from the seated figure, clearly speech, though the words are not in Anglic.  The other figure speaks, and the words are in Anglic, though oddly accented, "If there is a suitably qualified physician among you, the Aikhahehtarl will permit that person to examine his leg.  We have summoned aid, and it should arrive soon, but the Aikhahehtarl is suffering considerable pain now."

The figure steps forward, until it is beside the man who had first spoken, which just serves to emphasise how tall the new speaker is - well over two metres. 

Hands are raised, throwing the hood back to reveal her face, for she is, indeed female, though not human.  The face is roughly human, in that there is a nose, a mouth, two eyes, and a pair of ears, framed by long dark hair.  But the ears are located somewhat higher on the head than in humans, and come to definite points, while the eyes are golden, with vertical slit pupils.  The skin is covered with short, light brown fur.

Aslan...

"If a physician could reduce his pain, even if briefly, the Aikhahehtarl would be grateful."

Not a human, then.  The posture derives from the joints, rather than a toted object.  Shui runs through a quick list of what she knows of the Aslan, and compares it to this situation.

Points in her favour - it's the male who is injured, not the female.  She's a female herself, in the proper area of specialization.

Points against her - this will be her first time actually working on one of the Aslan.

"I am Shui Tiesi, medical officer," she begins, adding a small bow.  At no time does she move past Tylen, and certainly not into his arc of fire - the scout has still not given the go-ahead.  "It would be my honor to assist, though my medicines function best on humans - they may not be sufficient to dull the pain of your people.  Additionally, should you desire and the wound not be grevious, I might attempt to set the bone."  She eyes the injured male, then looks back to the female.  "The longer the leg waits, the more chance it might suffer lingering damage."

Aslan!

Saskia has dealt with Aslan before, and it had turned out well, even if the situation hadn't been the best, what with the hotel fire, and all.  Because of that she has some distant contacts with an Aslan clan.

She steps forward to stand closer to Shui.  "Excuse me - uh - Miss." she starts, a little nervously, "My name is Saskia Blake.  I am a friend of the Hlyueawi, who are, as you know, one of the Twenty-Nine."

Her confidence grows a little as she continues, "You're a long way from home.  Must be at least a hundred parsecs from the nearest border of the Heirate, maybe a year's travel.  It is unusual to see any of the fteirle so far from Kusyu."

There it was.  Mention that you are a close personal friend of one of the ruling clans, and then ask them what they're doing here, without actually questioning them.

"Please, tend to his injury.  The Aikhahehtarl will permit it, and understands that you may not be able to heal it."

"I am Hioilsal, assistant to the Aikhahehtarl.  We are of the Ealreao clan.  We came to Regina to negotiate trade agreements with your Duke Norris.  We are returning to the Heirate, to report, and had stopped here to refuel." the female Aslan explains.

"After we landed, our Engineer requested a brief delay to replace a drive part which had failed a routine diagnostic.  The Aikhahehtarl agreed, and decided that he would do a little hunting, while he waited."

"I made the arrangements, engaging Djervis Frallan," and here she gestures towards the human, "as a guide.  He had the best reputation, as far as I could determine."

"Shortly after we arrived at the selected location and ordered our transport to leave the area, the Aikhahehtarl was almost bitten by an animal which lunged out from a crevice.  In his effort to evade it, he fell, and injured his leg.  I believe a bone may be broken."

She bows to Shui and Saskia, and then to the rest of Profit Margin's crew, just for good measure.

Tylen returned the bow, ensuring his weapon was kept down and away from the group. He decided to leave the talking to the ex-marine as Yas seemed to have prior experience in dealing with the Aslan. He turned his head to the medic,

"Go ahead Doc, looks like this is more your field then mine."

He smiles his encouragement to Shu Tiesi.

Shui nods to Tylen.  "Thank you, Mr. Ogresh."  She doesn't bother asking him to remain vigilent - he will.  Instead, given the go-ahead she moves across the distance to the injured Aslan, stopping several paces from him and bowing once again, in the manner of her own people.  "I hope that I can assist you, sir."

Then, barring hostile or preventative movement, she steps up to where the Aslan sits and kneels before his leg; one hand activates the holocontrols of her dataglove, running a search for the best possible painkiller.

The female Aslan gestures towards the seated male, with a small bow towards Shui.  This is followed by a few words, in her own language, and a deep, rumbling reply from the male, who shifts position and gingerly extends his left leg.

"The Aikhahehtarl does not speak your language, though he does understand a few simple words." Hioilsal explains, as Shui approaches.  Then she looks back to the others, "Did you see another grav vehicle when you were coming here?  It would have been gold in colour.  One of our people's designs."

Yasmine remains where she is and does not as much as shift her stance as the groups being to interact.  Give nothing away, is her attitude, as the situation still may not be what it seemed when taking into account all the unknown factors.  Instead she takes the time to casually and as inconspicuously as she can study the strangers, attempting to assess any potential threat they may pose.

This is by now pure reflex in her case so she allows her mind to wander a little, wondering if they encounter one of those little nasty critters they had been warned about.  It would make a nice trophy if she could kill one, as long as she did not use the shotgun of course.

The inquiry from the feline named Holosail or such triggers a memory and she replies, "I saw one craft shortly after we left, but it was not headed this way.  Can't say more than that as it was only the limit of my visual range.  Other than that, I have seen no craft."
This message was last edited by the player at 10:49, Sun 02 Nov 2008.

Tylen shakes his head,

"Can't say I saw anything, but I wasn't really looking I'm afraid."

He scans the area, alert for any movement, then takes out his comlink to hail Conrad,

"Conrad, you got any sensors on the air car that would tell you if there's another vehicle in the area?"

"Thank you," Shui replies to Hioilsal before moving to her work.  The first thing that strikes her is the scent of the Aslan - strong, spicy, and redolant with the flavour of coffee.  It's a deep distraction, and Shui has to fight not to breath deeply.  Keep to your work.  She glances up into the man's face, noting the thick beard, the deep brown eyes, curiously different from the woman's.

He's huge, of course, but built differently than an over-muscled body-builder.  More lean muscle, she notes.  Corded, rather than hulking.  Built for use, rather than show.  Hardly surprising, the doctor supposes, hunkering down before his ankle.

"Swollen," she mumurs, nodding, and checks the dataglove, scrolling through the possible painkillers.  Finding one, the doctor nods once, roots in her bag, and prepares it in her hypospray.  A gentle examination of the site produces an involuntary (she hopes) grating growl, but no movement.  Strong-willed, to go with the strong body.  Proud, no doubt.

Raising the hypospray before her, she taps it against her palm and indicates his ankle.  Then Shui mimes pulling, twisting, and releasing.  All directly to the Aikhahehtarl, before she turns to Hioilsal.

"Excuse me, Hioilsal?  Might you inform the Aikhahehtarl I will first apply a painkiller to the area, then attempt to set the bones?  The painkiller I have availible may not function on your people's biochemistry, but unless the Aikhahehtarl is allergic, it should have no threatening side effects."

Conrad, still with the raft when Tylen calls.  "Jus' one second, Tylen."  He leans over and starts making a few adjustments to the instruments, "I don't see nothin' on radar, but the emitter is under the raft, so the range's restricted while it's sittin' on the ground.  I can't say for sure if there's anythin' more'n a couple of klicks out."

He looks up at the sky, watching the clouds, "Want me to take her up for a proper look round?"

Tylen acknowledges Conrads call,

"If you would Conrad, I'm sure our injured friend here would appreciate the reassurance that his party is on the way."

Tylen lets the carbine hang free on it's shoulder strap and looks around, keeping his eye open especially for any hole or crevice that might harbour another of the poisonous beasts.

The air-raft lifts off the ground, rising until it's about level with the surrounding hills, then switches to hover while Conrad scans the area.

Meanwhile Hioilsal relays Shui's instructions to the Aikhahehtarl, who hasn't so much as flinched while Profit Margin's nedic has examined his leg.  His voice rumbles, briefly, in reply, and Hioilsal translates, "He is certain that you will do the best that you can, and use the most effective medications that you have available.  He has every confidence in your ability."

She turns her attention to Tylen for a moment, "And thank you.  Even if the Aikhahehtarl does not show it himself, I am concerned about the whereabouts of the aid we were waiting for."

The human, Djervis Frallan, nods an agreement, "I'd say they're definitely running late.  I could almost have walked here from the port in the time it's taken them to drive over so far." he says to Yas and Saskia, shaking his head.

An exaggeration, perhaps, but the man looks worried.

Tylen looks thoughtful,

"Maybe we should try calling them again? If you can't make contact, maybe we can boost the signal through the apparatus in the air car."

He is torn between his instinct to offer assistance, and the need to complete the task that the Scouts have set him.

"Conrad, how far are we from our destination? If we need to evac these folks back to port how long will it take us?"

He decides the welfare of the injured being is more important, as the Scouts put no priority or time limit on their contract.

"We're a touch less than - hold on, we got us a blip.  Nope, make that two blips.  Keepin' low, jus' like we did.  Ten klicks out.  Lets see now."

Conrad watches the radar intently for a few seconds, making some adjustments, then continues, "Headin' this way.  Be here in 'round five minutes."

"We have only one vehicle available.  That is why we were left here.  The vehicle was needed for other tasks." Hioilsal states, then speaks quickly to the Aikhahehtarl in Aslan.  The reply is brief, and the big Aslan gently pushes Shui to one side, before starting to get to his feet.

"The Aikhahehtarl feels that this might mean trouble, and does not wish to appear weak when the vehicles arrive here."


Hioilsal moves closer to the Aikhahehtarl, standing a little to his left and behind him.  She reaches one hand behind her back, but inside her coat, and produces a large pistol, clearly designed for her alien hand.  She doesn't point it at anything, or anyone, yet.  Instead she conceals the hand holding it, as best she can, behind a fold of her long coat.

The Aikhahehtarl snarls something, and Hioilsal translates, "The Aikhahehtarl feels that we should warn you, that we suspect that the faulty drive component which forced our ship to stop here for repairs may have been sabotage.  There are those who would not wish to see a trade agreement between the Ealreao clan and the Imperium."

Shui follows along as best she can while working on her patient's leg.  It's not easy, and she remains only dimly aware of the situation until the Aikhahehtarl firmly presses her away and stands.  Well, balances would be a better way of putting it, Shui notes as she quickly reviews the situation.  Two vehicles heading in this direction.  Possibly dangerous.  Several possibilities leap to mind - flight, on their own vehicle.  A call for help, and buttonning down to await assistance.

Not for her to decide - Yasmine and Tylen are the proper people, given the circumstances.  For her to interject would only confuse the matter further.

Still....

She turns to the two Aslan and chooses her words with great care.  "Sir, you have a grave responsibility, and the poor luck to be sorely injured."  It is clear to Shui he is incapable of defending himself, not with his mobility so impaired.

"Should the Aikhahehtarl need to escape for the good of his clan and the Imperium-" she makes certain that's in, so as not to offend any sensibilities "- he should take my seat.  Certainly I am in no personal danger from his enemies, and with less mass the car will travel more swiftly."

He is her patient, her responsibility now - she must see him safe.

Tylen turns, his hand slipping around the grip of the carbine as he speaks again to the pilot.

"Conrad, this could be trouble. Can you move the airraft around the to the far side of our location and be ready to lift us off if things get hot?"

He speaks to the Aslan emmissary,

"If this is trouble will you accept our assistance in moving the Aikhahehtarl and the rest of your party to safety? I suspect that the treaty may be more important than personal honour."

He glances across to Yas to make sure she is prepared for the possibility of trouble.

"There's no way we could all get out of here in the raft.  It was crowded with just us in it." Saskia comments, looking about desperately, "Maybe we could take cover, and ambush them as soon as we're sure there's a problem."

She draws her gun, still studying the surrounding terrain.

Tylen nodded, the Engineer had a point.

"If we can get the Aikhahehtarl back to somewhere civilised maybe there won't be any need for an ambush. If he's back under protection of the local authorities then maybe they'll just back off."

"I say we all hide among these boulders, perhaps even use some moss from others to conceal us.  Conrad takes the raft for a extreme low flight to stay off their screens, make a wide circle around and returns when we say it is clear.  If he tries to get folks aboard now he will only end up a target with us left here unable to help and then we might all end up stranded if things go sour," Yasmine suggests and adds, "and we should do so now.  Beside, they might expect the Aslans but they won't expect us.  This place is next to ideal to surround any size group coming to investigate and even to stay hidden if they aren't sharp enough."

"OK Yas, you're the expert."

Tylen is not comfortable ambushing anyone, even someone he knows to be threatening. In this case he has no evidence and no reason tho commence hostilities against the approaching air cars and he's very concerned about the legal consequence. However, Yas is a senior member of the Profit Margin crew and a combat veteran to boot.

"If we do it that way, then there's no chance of the raft taking any stray rounds if a fight does start." Saskia agrees, "Jago wouldn't be too pleased if we just scratched it - imagine what he'd say if we let somebody put a lot of 9mm holes through the paintwork."

Saskia spots a likely looking rock, and heads towards it.

"Good point, Sas.  Remember all, though, we do not know the intentions of these so no shooting until I say so.  They will soon show their colours and we might get away with staying hidden," Yas says, the later part louder for all to hear.  Then she being to peel moss from one place before moving to another place, "Take moss from the more non-obvious places and away from where you hide.  Just a bit will help you blend in, no need for a full covering blanket.  Help each other and make it quick."

The female Aslan relays Shui's words to the male, who produces a sudden, brief huffing sound, and bows to the doctor, a little awkwardly, with all his weight balanced on one leg.  Then he speaks, at some length, his eyes fixed on Shui's face.

Hioisal starts to translate, "He thanks you for the offer, and will give it consideration, should the situation become so desperate.  However, he is the eldest son of the Ealreaoko, the leader of our clan, and it would bring disgrace upon his father, and upon the Ealreao name, if it became known that he turned his tail to an enemy.  Such shame could jeopardise the Ealreao position among the Tlaukhu - the Twenty-Nine, as Humans call them."

"He would only choose such an option in a dire emergency, and he has confidence in the ability of your clan... males... to fight, though they are small."

The female Aslan bows to Yas, "My apologies, the Aikhahehtarl is unused to dealing with Humans, and believes you to be male, since you are behaving like a soldier."

She goes back to explaining the situation to the Aikhahehtarl, indicating the nearby boulders.  The male huffs again, and holds out one large hand towards Hioisal and speaks rapidly.  As close as she is standing, Shui has a clear view of the Aslan's hand - three claw-tipped fingers opposed by a centrally located thumb, with a large, curved, claw folded into it.

Hioisal steps forward, slapping her heavy pistol into his palm.  "He believes we can make a stand here.  The enemy is hunting us, but there is a saying, 'Fou hwyarl iyw.'  In Anglic, it would translate, approximately, as, 'If you want the tigers' cubs, you must enter the lair.'  These hunters will find that the tiger is at home today."

Shui immediately bows back to the Aikhahehtarl when he gives her a nod, and waits for the explanation.  All the while, she keeps an ear open to the decision-making of her own crew - regardless of her personal feelings, Tylen is the de facto leader of this expedition, and Yasmine is the ultimate authority when it comes to crew security.

Their decision is the most important.

It seems that an ambush is in order, and, fortunately, the Aslan agree.  This is not the time for arguments.  "I understand, Aikhahehtarl," she says directly to the male, conscious of his effort to communicate his feelings to her.

The biologist in her pauses for a quick study of the Aslan hand, marking it and comparing to her examination of the Aikhahehtarl's foot.  Waiting until the translation is complete, Shui considers Yasmine's words, and notes where she might find some moss.  Foolish not to take the advice of a professional.  She raises her own voice.  "Ms. Crow - would there be a place I am most suited?  If not, I will stay with the Aikhahehtarl for the moment."

Her patient.  Her responsibility.

Tylen closes his eyes briefly, and mentally curses. It is typical that their errand of mercy has now landed them in a potential firefight.

"Yas, you're probally best equipped to handle those who get close with the shotgun. The laser would probablly be mor use if I can stay out wide. I'll move out away from their direction of approach and circle round to see if I can take position behind them."

He turns to the emissary,

"Sometimes when you are hunting you must divide your force to encircle the prey."

He hopes a species descended from a pack predator will understand his meaning as he moves quickly out from the group, keeping low and moving around to the right of the party.

Conrad drops the air-raft, then takes off along the valley, barely two metres off the deck.  Flat out, this would be a risky option, the ground being somewhat irregular, so he keeps the speed down to about fifty, which is well within the capability of a civilian vehicle's avionics.

As he passes his friends, he gives them a thumbs-up, and calls out, "Back soon!", and then the vehicle is away from them, the hum of its motor fading swiftly into silence, as it veers sharp right into a side valley, and out of sight.

The male Aslan tilts his head towards Tylen, as if understanding every word of the man's statement, and then moves away to take cover among the nearer boulders, no more than twenty metres from the pathetic campfire.  Shui and Hioilsal assist him in this manoeuver, and it seems that, thankfully, he is not too proud to accept aid.

The big alien crouches awkwardly behind the largest boulder he can find, and reaches up to adjust a stud located on the left side of his collar.  Instantly, the fabric of his hooded coat starts to change, becoming a mottled grey colour.  Not a perfect match for the rock, but close enough that a person (or an animal) might miss spotting him at first glance.

Hioilsal performs the same trick with her own coat.

Shui stays close to the two Aslan, keeping an eye on her patient, while Tylen, Yas, and Saskia take up their own positions amid the rocky landscape, using some of the local flora to camouflage themselves.

Then it's just a matter of waiting...

A few minutes is all it takes.

Two vehicles swing into the valley, about twenty metres above the ground, but they start to drop almost immediately, making a beeline towards the fire.  The second vehicle is an air-raft, similar to Profit Margin's own, but a dirty white in colour (or maybe just a regular white, covered with dirt).  It looks to have three people in it.

The lead vehicle, though, is something else.  A grav bike with a pilot and a single passenger.  The passenger is very clearly carrying some sort of long gun.

The two vehicles slow down as the descend towards the fire, and come to a complete stop about thirty metres short of it.  They move closer together, leaving the motors running, so that they continue to hover less than a metre off the ground.  Judging by the gesturing, there is quite an animated conversation going on over there...

Having moved away from the group, Tylen threw himself flat just as the vehicles came within visible range. He crawled closer, and activated the sight on the carbine, ensuring that the weapon was still set for semi automatic fire at maximum discharge. As the long gun carried by the bike's passenger is the only weapon he can easily discern, he keeps the figure in his crosshairs and awaits further development.

Hunkered down near the Aikhahehtarl, Shui checks her snub pistol once, and recalls the distance to the fire.  Ridiculous - at this range, she would be better off throwing rocks.  So she keeps her head down as the aircar and grav bike whine closer and settle to a stop, waiting for any hint of danger.

When the shooting starts, there will still be little enough for her to do.  Better she keep hidden unless someone comes close enough to threaten them directly.  That way, the doctor will remain un-holed and prepared to assist any injured.

Or dying.

But all the while, her betraying mind calculates odds and distances.  Three men in the raft, one on the bike.  More speed on the bike, and a long gun.  First, concentrate fire upon the possible sniper, then have Tylen open up on the raft with the laser carbine, while Yasmine leads a leap-frogging advance with her shorter-ranged, powerful shotgun....

Enough!  Gripping her pistol, the doctor struggles to relax her mind and banish those thoughts.

Deciding to give the strangers the chance to prove their intent - even if the gun spoke loudly enough - Yas waited, the shotgun trained at the ever so tempting cluster of potential targets.  One false move and it would be the last one at least one of them made.

With some luck, mostly the strangers, they might decide to leave.  Odds were, though, that they would not give up that easily if they indeed were here to kill.

She could easily call out and draw their attention to her general direction but at the moment their next action would speak louder than words.

Saskia stays huddled close to the boulder.  Her mind is a whirl of thoughts, most of them not really suitable for anybody to know.  She hates fighting.  One good thing about the Navy - in most cases the enemy is no more than a cluster of electrons on a display, sometimes with a small identification tag attached.

You never have to look into the eyes of the person you're shooting at.

Unless, of course, they've had the terrible idea of boarding your ship.  In which case, their stupidity just earned them the right to face whatever you can throw at them.

Maybe that's the way to think about it?  This is just defending against a boarding action, and she's in a compartment with a very high ceiling, and a lighting unit that would be frelling difficult to change.

It sounds weak, even to her.  "Dren!" she mutters, crouching lower.  If somebody starts shooting, then she'll risk taking a look, if she needs to, but not before.

After a brief discussion, the passenger dismounts from the gravbike, and walks towards the fire, leaving the driver talking to the men in the air-raft.  As he gets closer, he keeps his eyes on the ground, occasionally stepping carefully around irregularities.  When not watching where he puts his feet, his interest is directed along the valley, in the direction that Conrad had headed.  The rifle is resting over his right shoulder.

By the fire, he crouches, studying the dirt.  Then he stands, calling back to his friends.  "Hey!  They were here recently.  Maybe they got a ride out on that grav Foster saw on the radar.  Reckon they went that way, since they didn't come past us."  He points up the valley with the rifle.

The air-raft driver yells back, "It dropped off the screen quick enough, though.  They must've  spotted us."
This message was last edited by the GM at 17:08, Sat 22 Nov 2008.

Not prepared to fire the first shot, Yas remains where she is although she decides that something has to be done before they start combing the area and stumbles across someone else.  She rolls free off her cover but remains as best she can in cover, aiming her scattergun at the cluster.  Disabling a group, or at least severely distracting them with pain, comes before taking out anyone with long range weapons such as the sniper.  If anything, he might be at a disadvantage with that weapon at this close a range.

"Can I help you, gentlemen?" she calls out, without showing herself.  "And keep your hands where I can see them!"

If they did not take her advice but reached for their irons they would find her willing to later on place their hands were she indeed could see them.  Hopefully they had enough self-preservation to lift their hands up.

Tylen saw Yas make her play , and sighted on the figure with the rifle, his finger just resting on the trigger.

No shooting yet, but Yas is explaining to the new people how stupid they'd be to try anything.  A quick look to one side reveals Tylen aiming at somebody, but Saskia can't see who it is from here.

Good.  That means that the chances of Saskia getting shot at are dropping.  They haven't reached the point, yet, where it is infinitely improbable, but they are considerably lower than when the engineer had taken cover.

The day might just be getting better,

The man near the fire lowers the rifle, though he doesn't drop it.  Instead he just holds it loosely in his left hand, as he turns to face Yas.  If he is aware of Tylen's presence, off to one side and a little behind him, he gives no sign of it.

The group who are still with the vehicles can see Tylen, but realise that Yas has them covered.  None of them say anything, they just raise their hands in the traditional manner of people who would rather not be used for target practice.

The man grins at Yas, "Not after any trouble here.  We're just looking for some friends of ours and thought this might be their fire."  He nods towards his friends, "If you'll just let me rejoin my friends, we'll be on our way."

He takes a slow, sideways step in the direction of the vehicles.  "That be okay with you?"

"Seems you found the wrong fire, I would suggest heading away from here slowly and carefully.  Me and my friends aren't looking for company," Yas states clearly, leaving any interpretation to them both regarding the number of her friends and the reason for wanting their privacy.

"Remember, we'll be watching."

Tylen can tell from Yas's body language that she's telling the man to make tracks, so he keeps his gun trained on his initial target to reinforce her instruction. He figures that, since none of the others have a long range weapon prepared he will have time to take action should one of them decide to make a play.

Most of Shui feels only relief at Yasmine's adroit defusing of the situation.  It seems the marine has everything under control, with her gunbarrel diplomacy - given the situation, it's the best result the doctor could hope for.  The intruders faced down, no injuries...no deaths.

One buried sliver of her spirit dispassionately points out that if the enemy disengages, their longer-ranged weapons will become a factor - better to not give them the opportunity.

Shui shakes her head.  This - how Yasmine is handling it, right now - this is the proper method.  The marine certainly knows the sniper may become a danger in the future (and is probably working out a contingency for that, right now), but to shoot down men who may be innocent?  That isn't her way.

Perhaps they'll make it through this without incident.

The man takes another sideways step, and a third, keeping his eye on the shotgun.  Then he stops moving, but raises one hand, waving to his travelling companions.  He looks at Yas, and asks, "Don't suppose you've seen anybody else out here, have you?"

"Would've been at least one Aslan."

Tylen, apparently unnoticed by the rifleman keeps aiming his own weapon, painting a small red point on the target, a faint prelude to the much more intense point which would actually inflict an injury.

Crouched next to Shui, the Aikhahehtarl produces a low, almost inaudible rumbling in his throat, and runs one claw-tipped finger over a switch on the side of the pistol, as if checking that it is set to the correct position.  Hioilsal whispers something to him, and he seems to relax a little, though his nostrils flare as he breathes deeply. 

Nearby, Saskia maintains her own position behind the boulder.

"Apart from you, nope, and you aren't the ones we're waiting for," comes the reply from Yas.  "I suggest you go search for your feline friend and leave us to our business, which indeed is ours and not yours," she continues, putting emphasis on both 'ours' and 'yours'.  Could not hurt to try to make it sound as if something shady was going on, as shady business often meant a lot of guns and at least as many itchy trigger fingers.

Then, after a small break, she adds, ""Please."  One does not have to see her to know she is grinning and not necessarily in a fashion that goes along with the polite word.

Shui swallows at the Hoisal's whisper, considering the suggestion.  Too much talking coming from men under the gun, and they have given their interest in the Aslan away.  Still fully under cover, lying on her back, she slowly raises her dataglove to her mouth, keying in the ship's frequencies, hoping that either Tylen or Yasmine - as the primaries, here - have their comlinks open.

True, there's a risk of transmission interception, but given the circumstances...

++ The Hioilsal informs me the Aikhahehtarl fears treachery.  Is it possible they keep us in place while others gather information and move into position? ++

An advance party, this - a scouting group, relaying information, or even a probe to see what might answer?  Ruthless, but determined...as one might expect from people seeking to destabilize the peace.

She looks up, straight into the sky.  There might even be a craft above, seeking out their location with sensors from far beyond the range of their own vision.  Then Shui, her back against her cover, turns her gaze outward, searching through the rocks and ridges for interested parties who might be encircling their positions even as they have encircled the intruders'.
This message was last edited by the player at 20:39, Sun 30 Nov 2008.

The man nods again, "Understood." and takes another step sideways, keeping his eyes fixed on Yas.  Then he stops and raises one hand, "Can I just ask you one more question?"

Behind him, the gravbike stays where it is, but the air-raft starts to rise slowly, turning as if preparing to head back the way it came.

"Hey, you all stick together!  No funny business or you all end up as bleached bones here and now!" the Security Chief gone Scummy Dealer calls out, motioning the gun towards the raft.  Snarling for effect she then continues, "Ask."

Saskia relaxes.  Yas is talking them into going away, and nobody has been shot at, let alone actually shot.  This is great news.  Still, Saskia reflects, it's probably not a good idea to look at what's happening just yet.

After all, things are still a little tense out there, and people may have itchy trigger fingers.

It would be really embarrassing if Saskia got shot by Yas or Tylen, simply because she peeked at the wrong moment.

Tylen swings the barrel of the Carbine to cover the moving man,

"Heads up Yas, keep the rifleman covered!"

His thumb moved the selector to "Rapid"

Everything seems to happen at the same time...

The rifleman turns towards Tylen's voice, realising for the first time perhaps that there is somebody behind him.  As he turns, the rifle starts to come up...

The air-raft slows its climb, and one of the men half stands, pulling something from inside his jacket.  Something black and metallic, with a definite look of "pistol" about it...

There is a loud report from the pistol, and a slug thumps into the dirt about three metres away from Yas.

trusting Yas to take care of the rifleman, Tylen lines the sights on the shooter and pulls the trigger twice, sending two ruby coloured bolts of energy towards the vehicle.
This message was last edited by the player at 13:10, Thu 04 Dec 2008.

Idiots.

The single word that flashes through Yas' mind as she pulls the trigger on her combat shotgun, unloading it directly at the rifleman that makes the probably last move he ever will - and a bad one to that.

"Frelling yotz!" Saskia growls as she hears the shots.  She scrambles to her knees, so that her eyes can just see over the top of the boulder, while trying not to think about how this will expose everything above her eyes.

A quick check that the safety really is off, and she starts looking for people that she can hopefully terrify with semi-random gunfire.

Gunfire.  Shui closes her eyes for an instant, then raises her dataglove over the lip of the boulder, camera mod active.  It's a small target, and non-reflective - given the gunfire tossed around at the moment, it seems unlikely anyone will hurl a shot its way, and even less likely someone will actually hit it.  With the camera function active, what the glove sees comes up on the LCD screen - small, but zooming in.

She needs to watch - when the shooting stops, there will be people in need of assistance, and every second will count.

Tylen's first shot hits his target, producing a low "pop" as the beam flash burns fabric and flesh, and the man slumps back into his seat.

Yas' shotgun produces a much more noticeable sound, which echoes off the surrounding hills, and sends a number of small creatures scurrying for safety.  Her target drops his rifle and falls to the ground, curled in a ball.

The laser's recharge indicator blinks on, but only for a moment, before Tylen fires again.  Another hit, on the same man, and the target's head is lolling back as if he is studying the sky.

The air-raft drops quickly, and lands heavily just a couple of metres from its original location.  All of the men in it, with the exception of the man Tylen shot, have their hands raised so high that they look as though they are trying to physically pull the vehicle back into the air.  As soon as it stops moving, the driver takes his hands off the controls and reaches just as high as the rest of them.

The man on the gravbike reacts differently.  Instead of reaching upwards, he throws himself sideways, and ends up laying flat on his face.

The echoes of the shotgun fade away, and a deafening silence descends over the valley.

"Anyone else with a death wish!?  If not, stand up and reach for the sky or the only thing you'll be reaching for will be your own insides trying to keep them in!  Reach for the sky and you may live to follow the next piece of good advice!" Yasmine yells at the top of her lungs, clearly both annoyed, to use a mild statement, and more than ready to provide any volunteers with said shot.

As far as she can tell it went down smoothly, from the point of the Profit Margin crew, even if a fire fight is something best avoided altogether.  But the strangers had made their choice, poor as it was.

She moves closer to the nose diver while keeping an eye on the group in the raft, staying low and moving from cover to cover as best she can.

"On your feet now, dirt face!" she yells at the ex gravbiker, doing her best to keep him in her field of fire while avoiding to exposing herself too much to him.

On her feet, crouched behind the boulders, Shui continues to watch with the aid of the mirror.  Once movement ceases, she begins a crouched run around the edge of the ambush site, keeping out of Yasmine and Tylen's line of fire.

"Yasmine, Tylen - clear to move in?" she shouts out, somewhat out of character for the steward - short and sharp, almost hoarse with pent-up energy.

OOC - moving circular around the outside, NOT getting in the way or in reach of any of the people, but getting closer to the downed men and waiting for the all-clear.

"Gimme a minute," Yas hollers back to Sushi, wanting to secure the survivors before letting the doctor close.  Never can tell if one of them is about to do the last mistake they will make.

Reaching the closest safe point, Shui crouches, trembling like a cat about to spring.  Every nerve quivers, pressing her forward, but she awaits the go-ahead from the security members of the team.  Getting in their way...putting herself in danger, forcing more gunfire, possibly more injured and killed, and of the Profit Margin as well...unacceptable.

So she waits, counting the seconds.

The shooting has stopped, and Yas and Shui are talking, and it doesn't seem like they're hurt.  They don't sound panicked, so Tylen is probably not hurt either.

Goodgoodgoodgood!

The bad guys are either down, or standing about in uncomfortable postures.  Saskia does a quick parts inventory.  Her left knee hurts, where she's kneeling on a small, sharp stone, or something, but that's all.  And she isn't bleeding, so it looks like she wasn't shot.

Goodgoodgoodgood!

She shifts position slightly, moving her knee of the jagged little stone, and straightening up.  Now her arms are resting across the boulder, the pistol held two-handed, aimed in the general direction of the enemy.  Finally she manages to speak, and her voice sounds tiny, compared to the gunfire of a few moments ago, "Are we all okay?"

Tylen comes up in a crouch, Laser tight in against his shoulder as he moves towards the vehicle the muzzle following exactly the direction of his gaze. He stops, a short distance from the grounded car.

"Out of the car, one by one starting with the driver. down on your face, hands on head!"

He barks.

The men in the air-raft follow Tylen's instructions, and lay down on the ground, with the exception of the one that the former Scout had shot - he just stays slumped in his seat, head lolling back.

The gravbike pilot follows Yas' instructions instead, and gets to his feet, spreading his hands wide, at shoulder height.  His eyes are open so wide that they look like they will fall out of his skull at any moment, and he's breathing very hard.  In addition there is a suspicious looking dark stain on the front of his pants which suggests that he had not really been prepared for encountering resistance.

The rifleman, meanwhile, hasn't moved a muscle...

"Good.  Now, go to your friends and join them on the ground there," Yas says with an evil grin, waving the shotgun at him as she moves over towards the rifleman.  "Ty, you got another groupie coming, make sure he feels he is one of the group."

She doubted he would get up any time soon, if ever, but best make certain and to remove his armament while he was at least out for the count.

Tylen steps back, just far enough to give him an angle that allows him to watch Yas's prisoner as well as the party he has on the ground.

"The more the merrier Yas,"

He quips, then shouts across to the engineer,

"Sas, you got any cable ties about your person? Mebbe you could call Conrad and get him to bring the vehicle back in."

Then, as an after thought,

"Doc, mebbe you could take a look at the guy in the car. Try and stay on the other side of him from me, if he makes a move get yourdself flat on the ground and I'll light him up some more."

The threat was more for the benefit of the opposition. Tylen found people usually behaved better if they thought the man holding the gun was a callous sociopath.

All this without taking his eyes off his charges.

At that, Shui immediately begins a low, crouch-run across the distance to the air-car, keeping herself out of the line of fire.  She's exposed, yes, but at least won't provide a nice wall for the enemy to shoot through and prevent her own people from returning fire.

The one in the cab is certainly the best choice for immediate attention.  The man blasted by the shotgun remains concious, and seems to be bleeding from many minor wounds.  Possibly critical, possibly not.  The man in the cab, however....

Moving up alongside the cab, she peers in to where he sits - dazed?  unconcious?  dead? - while absently speaking to the other men in the vehicle.  "Gentlemen, please remain calm.  I can only deal with one patient at a time, and am already operating in the red."

The last of the men in the car exits, and lays on the ground, leaving Shui all the room she needs to work on their incapacitated comrade.

He is still breathing, almost hyperventilating, which given the high CO₂ level in the atmosphere is probably not doing much to help him.  His eyes are open, and he is just staring into the sky.


Yas nudges the rifle well away from the other man, who actually attempts to sit up.  The main result is that he gives a gasp of pain, and falls flat again, clutching his side.  Through gritted teeth, and between coughing, he growls, "Damn scatterguns!  Won't... always kill... you, but you'll... always... wish... they... had."

"Got a live on here, Doc.  For now, at least," Yas calls over to Sushi without taking her eyes off the man at her feet.

"You knew that and still made your dumb move.  If you live through this one, try to remember it the next time someone's points one at you," she tells the wounded man, shaking her head.  "Take my advice now, at least.  Just lay there and don't to anything except bleed and breath, and only speak up when asked.  Understood?"

To help underline her statement the barrel of her shotgun swung towards his midsection, followed by a not too seductive grin from the ex marine.

"Now, who are you and why are you here?"

Saskia pops the safety catch on, stands up and moves out from behind the rock.  Her pistol is still held straight out in front of her, two handed, and it is hardly shaking at all.

With most of the intruders down on the ground for one reason or another, she approaches the one man who is still standing, moving around until he can see her moving towards him.

She finally stops about ten metres short of him, the gun in plain sight and pointed at him.  Hopefully he can't see that she won't be able to shoot him in an instant if he tries something.

"Don't even think about trying anything.  I'm very nervous just now, and blinking too fast is probably going to earn you a frelling bullet.  Just for added incentive, that wet patch on your pants is a REALLY tempting target."

"Is he critical?" Shui shouts in reply to Yasmine.  Likely not, but one never knows.  This man, though, will die shortly without aid.  Burned through arm into chest.  Straight burn into chest.  Shock.  Have to move him.  Survival takes precedence over concerns of spinal injury - reaching in, Shui cracks open the door.

"Pistol on floor!"  The doctor considers ordering one of the grounded men to assist her, then discards the idea instantly.  It would put her in reach, and in a situation where neither Tylen nor Yasmine could successfully intervene.

Instead, she withdraws a hypospray from her kit, immediately feeding in a vial.  Painkiller, and something to slow the effects of the shock.  It goes in his arm, back in the bag, she counts to five, then begins to slowly lever the man from the vehicle.  He needs to be prone, immediately, and covered.  Then further aid.  And oxygen.

Unfortunately, that last is in short supply, unless these criminals carry a tank in their vehicle.

"Nah, he'll live in pain for a bit.  Eagerly sharing wisdom," Yas calls back, once more without looking away from the man in question.

Tylen winces internally as he sees the true effect of his shooting, but keeps up the callous exterior. He realises it's a fairly safe bet that he's killed the man and, despite the fact that he was shooting to defend the crew of the "Margin", he still feels terrible for that. He concentrates on the job of keeping the remaining prisoners covered, his internal turmoil making his scowl all the more menacing.

Out on the ground, and with Shui's meds coursing through his bloodstream, the wounded man starts to look a bit more comfortable.  His eyes come back into focus, just briefly, as Shui lays him on the ground, but then he loses conciousness again.  He still seems to be having some difficulty breathing, but not nearly as much as previously.

The other wounded man squints up at Yas, "We weren't... after you.  We were hired... look for... some Aslan.  Weren't... told why... even.  Just find... them... and... and... see that... that they don't... get back to... town."

Saskia succeeds in terrorising her charge enough that he doesn't make any false moves.  Instead, he just stands there, staring straight ahead, with his hands spread out to each side.

The remainder of the attackers all seem to be quite happy to stay on the ground, where Tylen is keeping a close eye on them.  His laser is generating a low power sighting beam, and the red spot sweeping across the dirt, and their bodies, serves to keep them all nervous and well-behaved.

"See what a 'no questions' policy gets you?  It works in the Marines, but not when freelancing.  It's asking for trouble.  Now, I'd suggest you keep quiet and try to breathe through the hole nature gave you and not those you asked for and was granted here.  I'm sure you'll be wanting to talk soon enough," Yas tells the man she is watching, keeping an eye on him while seeing if the doctor will come over soon.  Hopefully Sushi brought enough plugs to make this fellow air-tight again.

"You boys best listen to the lady, she may be small but she's a sharpshooter and meaner than an injured groat," she calls over towards where Sas is watching her man, "and you already met our laser specialist.  Stay still and you'll get out of this without an internal tan, y'hear."

With the man on the ground in such a way that his head is lower than his feet (uneven ground?  rocks used to prop his feet?), Shui immediately removes her coat, putting it over his upper body.  After a moment's thought, the doctor removes the snub pistol from the covering's pocket, stuffing it in her medical bag.

"I require jackets - from the prisoners, if necessary!"  She glances in the direction of the seated group.  "Do not move unless told to do so," the doctor warns.  Just what she'd need, one of them pulling a jacket off and Tylen (understandably) assuming they were going for a pistol.

With the meds in him, the man's condition is stabilizing...marginally.  Once she finds further covering for him, and someone to watch him, she can tend to the one peppered with buckshot.

Tylen moves to the largest member of the group, careful not to turn his back on any of the prisoners. He moves the barrel in cloase to the mans head.

"Jacket off, slowly. You'd best be trusting your buddies, 'cos if anyone makes a sudden move it's your head that will get cooked!"

Tylen has seen the effect of a close range head shot with a laser, the brain boiling so fast the expanding steam literally exploding the skull. It's not something you forget and he hopes nobody here wants to see it again.

Tylen's laser rifle has one important feature which it shares with many other weapons - the two ends of it are easily distinguished as being the right and wrong ends to be at.

With what is definitely the wrong end held only centimetres from his head, the biggest of the captives hurries to remove his jacket, endeavouring to do so while keeping his hands raised for as much of the time as possible.  As the garment comes off, it reveals a shoulder holster, and a particularly ugly looking revolver.

He looks in Shui's direction, "He gonna live?"

At that moment, the comms crackle into life, and Conrad's voice comes through, "Hey, y'a'll, I'm on my way back there now, only we got us 'nother blip on the radar."

"My gratitude, Mr. Ogresh," the doctor murmurs as Tylen enables the gleaning of further jackets.  Leaning in the big prisoner's direction, Shui snags the coat from his hands, struggling with its size and ignoring the revolver as unimportant.  It is, at present.  "Thank you."  Shifting back to her patient, she lays the coat over his lower body and legs.  "He should survive his injuries, if I manage to keep him from dying of shock," she continues briskly, again checking her patient's pulse.

Throwing a glance at the other injured man, the doctor thins her lips at Conrad's announcement.  A problem, but not her concern at the moment - that decision rests with Tylen and Yasmine.  She can only continue her own work.  "If any of you have medical training, I would appreciate it if you monitored this man's vitals while I tend to your fellow."  A flick of one hand indicates the victim of Yasmine's shotgun blast, still bleeding on the rocky ground.

Yas, Tylen, and Shui are all busy just now.  So is Saskia, but the subject of her attention is far enough out of reach to not give any trouble, and isn't likely to die of previously received injuries at a moment's notice.  Unless wetting his pants has mortally wounded his pride.

The engineer fishes her comm out of a pocket, without taking her eyes off the man she's guarding, "How long before you get here Conrad?  And how soon until the bogey arrives?"

Tylen screws the muzzle of the carbine painfully into the big man's ear,

"Hold still Sweetheart, you need to lose a little weight there."

He lifts the revolver from the mans holster with his left hand, sticks it into his belt, then steps back.

"Any of you other ugly sons of bitches want to go on the same diet, you just raise one hand and I'll come round and relieve you. Be warned though, any unsightly bulges than you don't tell me about could become hazardous to your health if I see them later, if you get my meaning."

Without looking round he speaks to the Ex-Marine,

"Hey Yas, you reckon we could get the Aslan party and the wounded in that other air car and get them back to civilisation? I reckon these fella's would be happy to lend it to us."

"I'll be there in 'bout a minute." Conrad's voice comes in over the comm, loud and clear, "The blip's roughly ten klicks out, an' cruisin', nice'n'steady like.  Give it ten minutes, maybe a touch more.  Don't seem like they's in much hurry."

"Y'all okay down there, folks?  Ah... there y'all are."

The air-raft appears, swinging around the flank of one of the hills, further up the valley, and starts a gentle descent towards the battlefield.

As Conrad descends towards a smooth landing, the prisoners seem less than reluctant to hand over a number of assorted weapons.  The total haul, including the possessions of the two injured men, amounts to three revolvers, two autopistols, four knives of various sorts, and a rifle.

Hearing Tylen's yelled query, Hioilsal shows herself, though she stands behind the boulder so that she has at least partial cover, "If necessary, I can operate a vehicle with controls laid out in the Human fashion.  The Aikhahehtarl would normally insist on piloting the vehicle, but in this case, I suspect he would defer to me."

Profit Margin's air-raft touches comes to a halt, it's turbine still running, so that the grav units hold it about ten centimetres off the ground.  Conrad studies the prisoners, and his companions, noting who has injuries, and where.

Tylen looks down at the haul,

"Well you little darlings certainly came ready to dance now didn't you?"

He calls across to Conrad,

"Seeing as there's a local law 'bout not going heeled without a permit, mebbe you should see if you can raise the local law."

He grins menacingly at the prisoners,

"You see, I got a 'Get out of Jail free' card for mine, you boys got your paperwork handy?"

Tylen is fairly confident that the testimony of the Aslan will carry enough weight to convince the local law that he acted in self defence.

Once her first charge is stabilized, Shui hurries to the next - the man suffering from a myriad of pellet-wounds - and settles to her knees beside him.  "I will give you something for the pain, first."  Her hands move inside her black bag, setting up the proper injector module, which she then presses against the man's neck, injecting as close as possible to the central nervous system for fast action.  She doesn't have a lot of time, and knows it.

"Your hand."  Taking his wrist, she checks his pulse the old-fashioned way.

"I assume we will be taking our other prisoners back as well?  I realize our situation is not ideal, but leaving them here without weapons...."  Dangerous land, poor air, no food, no water, and a very long hike back to town.  It seems very likely that some would not arrive.

Yas considers Tylen's question carefully, before answering.  "Depends if you want mass murder on your conscience.  I don't think there's one of them man enough to survive out here without weapons and transport.  Not for more than a few minutes anyway."

The hum of the approaching raft tells her that Conrad is almost back.

"Conrad could take the Aslan home, while we have a little picnic with our new friends and get to know them better."

Saskia shakes her head, "No point calling in the law.  We have things to do, and they'll probably want us to wait here until they arrive and start their investigation.  Which will be whenever they can get here."

The engineer grins manically, "We'll save ourselves time and trouble if we just shoot these drannits in the mivonks and leave them here for the damnthings to chew on."

It is becoming clear that she is, perhaps, enjoying her role a bit too much.

Relief flowers in Shui at Yasmine's reply.  Something, at least, will be done to keep these poor fools alive.  But a trickle of concern runs through her, managing to worm its way into a crack in her focus as she works on the injured man, and Shui spares a quick glance and raised eyebrow for Saskia.

Always full of surprises, the engineer.  The crazed baring of her teeth holds remarkable verisimilitude...worrisome, that.

Shui works on the shotgun victim.

There is blood, and plenty of it, spread over a large area of his torso, but Shui's examination reveals that it is the result of numerous small, shallow wounds.  The man is wearing body armour, which certainly reduced the severity of his wounds, while not stopping all of them.

Enough got through to cause him considerable pain, and leave him temporarily stunned.

Unfortunately Profit Margin's medic doesn't really have time to clean them all, and most of the pellets will have to remain in place until he can obtain treatment somewhere else.  Shui opts for getting what she can out, and applying a spray dressing.

The other prisoners remain well behaved, beneath the watchful gaze of their captors.  Both Aslan come out of hiding, as does their Human guide.  The man had, it seems, taken cover much further away from the campfire than anybody else.  At least he has the decency to look suitably embarrassed as he walks back to stand with Hioilsal and the Aikhahehtarl.

Hioilsal addresses Shui's patient, "Who told you to find us?"

The man seems about to answer, but some move on the part of the medic turns his words into a hiss of agony.

Conrad speaks up from his position in the air-raft, where he is watching the radar, "Four minutes, folks, give or take.  Still not hurryin' any."

"I'm sorry, but please refrain from questioning my patient for the moment," Shui quietly - but firmly - requests of the Aslan.  "I'd rather have him not growing excited."  She continues to work; better to get the wounds sealed as much as possible immediately than sit around and wait for the painblocker to kick in.  It should - soon - but that's no reason to let the man sit and bleed.

Tylen smiles at the Aslan,

"Plenty of healthy ones here to question though."

He points the laser roughly at the foot of the man he threatened earlier.

"You know,"

He says, in a conversational manner,

"I was once told, back at the academy, that if you set a laser low enough you can cook the flesh off a mans limb without killing him. Something to do with the energy of the beam cauterising the blood vessels and stopping the victim from bleeding out. Sounds like hogwash to me, but there you go."

His face hardens,

"Why don't you do your injured pal a favour and tell Uncle Tylen who told you to come and find these people?"