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.
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"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?”
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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.
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