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.