Once everybody is present, Jago says over his shoulder, "I thought you might want to see this... it's fairly impressive."

He hits a stud which transfers the sensor display to the main holographic HUD, and a large image fades into view in the air above himself and Ash.

A planet.  A barren ball of rock, entirely devoid of any sign of life.  And something else; hundreds of tiny points of light which form a partial ring around the planet.  The display switches to false colours, each point is surrounded by a reticule, most of them blue, and each reticule is connected to an equally tiny numeric tag.

One section of the ring, though, is marked in red.

"Ships in orbit." Jago explains, "The computer says there are just over eight hundred of them.  The ones tagged in red, a little more than a quarter of the total, have transponders which say they're Imperial Navy."

The display jumps, zooming in on the red portion of the ring, and resolves to show that there are a wide variety of ships.  "None of these ships is bigger than five thousand dtons, and as near as I can make out, they seem to be older models."

"I can't see any signs of trouble, and Frenzie has a Navy base, so I'm guessing they're just here on peaceful business.  But I want everybody to be careful while we're here."

"Oh my goodness," Shui breathes, a rare exclamation of surprise.  She studies the display intently, but keeps her ears perked for Jago's commentary.  Old ships.  All small.  None of them cutting edge for the Imperial Navy, but still...a massed quantity one does not often see.

Why?

"Shell game?  Or an escort, but for what?" she whispers, then shakes her head, eyes clearing.  "Thank you, Captain Lanza...indeed, the ports will be full of spacers looking for time on planet."  No doubt the Profit Margin's crew knows what that means - possible drunken brawls, possible belligerence, possible unwanted attention.  And quite possibly every huckster and con artist on the planet gathering close to the spaceport.

The doctor cocks an eyebrow at Yasmine and Tylen, then studies their new pilot, gauging his reaction.  Oh, she'll likely have some skin-sealing to do before their time here is finished, but on who?

"We should counsel the passengers on the situation before disembarking, Captain Lanza," she quietly suggests.

"Reserve units." Saskia suggests, "Escorts, destroyers, fleet couriers, that sort of thing."

She pauses as she studies the holographic projection, then continues, "Probably just been pulled out of mothballs and are here to resupply before moving on to their assigned deployments.  I bet if we'd arrived a couple of days ago, there would have been even more of them.

"Either that, or somebody in INI has seriously underestimated the frelling threat."

"Heh, reminds me of the time my unit was tasked with the assault of Mirened Tertiary, a minor operation blown up by those in command of it, for no good reason as the strategic value must have been...  Ah, ne'er mind, but yes, quite the sight, seeing a ringworm, as we called it in the Marines," Yas comments with a chuckle and then continues, "Not that I'm a Navy expert, if there is such a thing, but in my experience they're building a force.  Well, sort of, seeing the age of the ships..."

"Or an evacuation ...." Tylen says quietly, trying to make sense of the number and mixture of vessels.

"All  of vessels that you would expect to find in a sleepy naval base and berthed at the ports on a vacuum world.  All in  orbit at once ....." he continues softly.

"Ha!  If so it seems we arrived just in time, eh?" Yas grins at Tylen's slightly darker take on the scene before them.

Saskia shakes her head, "Frenzie's a Navy base, a big one, so it definitely would serve as a resupply centre.  There's any number of reasons the fleet might be stuck in orbit - all the berths at the base could be occupied, or those might be the ships that are ready to depart, parked while they wait for their orders.  Or they might be on high guard duty, in case an enemy fleet Jumps in and tries for an orbital bombardment."

She leans closer, trying to see one of the blue reticules, "What are the other ships?  Any idea?  And what about the orbital stations?  What's going on there?"

Ash listened to the crew chatter in the background as he stared at the display.  He watched the various points of light dance on the screen, admiring the poetry of movement, but also wary of the sheer number of ships.  He was more worried about the logistics of trying to dock - they did have passengers and cargo to deliver, after all.  He started to scan the comm channels to try and get a clue as to what exactly was going on.  Ash's fingers tapped with ever increasing speed on dynamic display as he began to pull in more and more frequencies to scan in his information survey.

Theories bounce back and forth like pinball pixels, Shui following them while continuing to study the fleet about the planet.  Her eyes, of course, tell her little - the discussion is far more illuminating.  Evacuation, perhaps.  Fleet creation.  And maybe the more modern, more potent ships are filling up the berths.  All make more sense than her own first assumption, a product of her childhood.

Perhaps Ash can find the missing puzzle-piece; obviously the pilot is hard at work searching the tac-net for some kind of enlightenment.

"I pray it isn't an evacuation," she murmurs.  That means trouble, in many possible forms - plague, imminent invasion, chemical poisoning of the atmosphere...shaking her head, the Steward dispells the conjectures.  Buddha!  The places to which her mind automatically leaps.

"The others look to be a mix of commercial ships, nothing too big." Jago responds to Saskia's query, "Probably pretty typical for this system, but a bit more than usual.  Could be that the navy is using civilian ships to bring in supplies, I suppose.  That would account for the traffic."

He pauses, and an idea occurs to him, "Or it might be that a lot of captains along the border are nervous, with the fighting going on, so they've run to a system with decent defences, in preparation for moving further from the trouble."

The Captain scratches his ear thoughtfully, then looks at Ash, "Anything interesting?"

Ash frowned slightly as he reviewed the various comm channels - there was a huge amount of extraneous chatter going on.  The amount was understandable given the amount of traffic, but what he found most troubling was ...

"Captain, I ... I am not sure what is going on, but all civilian traffic is being put on hold at this point.  Nothing is being explicitly broadcast as far as I can tell about the nature of the situation." he stated flatly.  Ash pursed his lips for a moment, then continued, "All docking berths are full.  Unless we have an emergency, we are being told to assume a holding pattern in high orbit, to download our position and transit information, and then to wait for further instructions."  He hmmm'd and then noted out loud, "There are no general announcements or system-wide emergency broadcasts that I can find; which is a good thing, I suppose.  But, it does leave us in the dark about what is really going on.  Someone is going through a lot of effort to coordinate all of this activity for a non-emergency."

After rubbing his chin thoughtfully, Ash tapped at his displays for a moment to run some calculations, then a blinking, spiral arc and an 'X' appeared on the main tactical display, as he pushed a proposed positioning and route there.  "Might I suggest the following parking orbit, Captain?  It offers enough freedom of movement options, while putting us reasonably close, but not too close, to the action."

Not having anything of value to add to the conversation, Tylen withdraws to the back of the bridge and slides the door to his gunnery station open.  Swinging the seat around to face the bridge, leaving the door open, he settles himself comfortably and waits to see what the outcome is.

"Looks good to me." responds Jago, and eases the ship onto the course Ash has suggested.  "If there are no emergency broadcasts, all we can do for now is assume that there is no emergency.  Maybe the traffic is just unusually heavy right now."

For all that he seems calm, though, the set of his cigar suggests, to those who know him, that he is actually somewhat tense.  He slides increases thrust, taking Profit Margin up to her maximum 2G acceleration.  "Just to be safe, though, everybody should be ready for trouble."

A little under two hours later, Profit Margin makes orbit.  Jago reports their position, and intended destination.  While he waits for a reply, he instructs Tylen, "Be ready to turn on that little gift the Navy left us.  If we get too much delay, we might be able to use that to jump the queue."

Even dropping 300,000 km from the Jump limit to orbit hasn't really improved the view of the planet itself.  It's still a small, barren ball of rock.  It's just a closer small, barren ball of rock now.  The journey itself had been moderately interesting, though, with a fine view of the ship movements, and occasional Jump flares, as some of the ships reach the hundred diameter limit and depart for parts unknown (at least, unknown to Profit Margin's crew, though some of them could probably take educated guesses.)

A response to Jago's call comes through, and it is from a Navy ship, "This is INS Poni requesting information, Profit Margin.  Do you have passengers aboard who intend to disembark at Frenzie?"

"Yes, Poni.  We have passengers booked for Frenzie.  Including some in Low berths"  Jago reels off the names of the passengers.

"Roger, Profit Margin.  Granting priority clearance order.  Assume descent vector one-seven-niner by negative seven four.  Port Authority will issue further instructions when you enter their traffic grid."

It is as simple as that, apparently.  Tell them you have passengers, and they send you on your way.  Not quite with a smile and a cheery wave, but close enough.

The ship's nose tilts down, and she drops towards the planet's surface.

And Jago, somewhat relieved, issues last-minute instructions, none of which are really needed by the crew, "Everybody get ready for landing.  Yas, Tylen, stay alert until we're safely down.  Shui, make sure the warm passengers know we're almost there.  Ash, keep an eye on the sensors, there's a lot of traffic moving around out there, and I don't want the paint scratched.  Saskia, make sure everything holds together, I don't want to make a bad impression with such a big audience."

Then, as an afterthought, he adds, "Jago, relax.  They know what they're doing."

"Zzz, uh, what?  Who said something?" it comes over the com from Yas, followed by a huge yawn and the sound of someone stretching.

In her gunner seat, Yas grins once the theatre is done with and resumes her vigilance as it was before Jago interrupted her.

Tylen acknowledges Jago's instruction to be ready to flip the switch under his seat, but relaxes slightly as they are instructed to proceed towards the Frenzie down-port.

Even then, he stays at his station, checking out many of the vessels on his local systems.

"Of course."  Shui gives a little bow and moves to the back of the cabin, synching her dataglove with the intercom system and adjusting her mic.  Opening the intercom in the passengers' cabins, she subvocalizes the message after a warning ping to alert.  <dark blue>+ All passengers - we will be entering the atmosphere shortly, and landing directly.  I will be coming by to entertain requests and offer information on the planet below. +</dark blue>

Not her best, but the vista of the flotilla has unsettled Shui; her mouth a thin line, she departs the cockpit without pause, headed for the first class passenger cabins with the intent of working her way down.

Saskia simply reaches past Jago, and calls up some of the more vital engineering displays on the panel above the captain's shoulder.

"Everything in the green.  You worry too much.  The core is at one hundred percent output, so you'll have all the power you need, as soon as you decide you need it."

Ash nodded to Jago's order to keep vigil on the sensors; he wanted to keep his own skin intact as much as the next guy, if not more.  All the traffic made Ash especially nervous.  But not as nervous as the fact that the Profit Margin appears to have jumped the queue.  He quietly wondered to himself, what telemetry data from the INI's on-board black box was being sent at this point, but he kept such wonderings to himself.

It was either that or Tsort was about to have the last laugh.

Hmmm... INI or Tsort?  Talk about a rock and a hard place, Ash thought to himself.  The edges of his mouth twitched, but Ash tried hard to suppress the smile and busied himself by staring at the dynamic displays on his console.

Profit Margin drops like a stone, albeit a stone dropping very precisely along a predetermined vector.  Within a couple of minutes, most of the traffic is above and behind her, and Jago relaxes visibly

At five hundred kilometres out from the surface, Traffic Control starts relaying instructions, directing the ship towards what appears, to the unaided eye, to be just another patch of rock, like any other.  Closer though, details start to become visible.  This patch of rock is smoother, and dotted with small sensor blisters.

To Profit Margin's eyes, it is also radiating quite intensely on a variety of EM wavelengths, most of them at the high end of the spectrum.

At two hundred metres, four beams of laser light appear, brilliant lances piercing the sky, and marking the corners of a large rectangle, which is sunk about a metre into the surrounding plain.  They start to strobe sequentially, and Jago places Profit Margin squarely in the centre of them.  The landing gear touches the planetary surface with a barely perceptible jolt, and Jago cuts power to the thrusters.  "We're down." the Captain announces, somewhat superfluously.

A few seconds later there is a much more noticeable jolt, as the ground below the ship starts to drop, descending into a deep pit.  Eventually it drops low enough, and heavy blast doors start to close overhead, sealing the opening to the sky.

Finally, with the ship some almost fifty metres below the surface, in a large, brightly-lit chamber, she comes to rest, as a second set of doors close above her.  AS they seal tight, there is a rushing sound, and a swirling dust cloud rises beyond the observation ports, as air is pumped in to fill the chamber.

"That went well, I think." Jago remarks.  He hits the intercom swith, "All hands, I'm opening the ramp up.  Shui, make sure everybody who's going ashore is ready.  Immigration and customs is, apparently, through a door just off the port bow, according to the signs over that way.  Security, stand by to assist Shui, if necessary, and make sure the ramp is guarded."

As he speaks, he is powering down systems in a well-practiced sequence which doesn't even require him to watch his hands moving over the controls.  As if to affirm the truth of his announcement, a loud screech fills the landing bay as the ramp starts to open.

Jago stands and stretches, "Ash, you're with me.  I'm going to see if I can get a buyer for the speculative cargo, and find out more about what's happening here."

"I'll get the ramp." Tylen offers as he pushes himself out of his seat. Aware that Yas is much better at 'encouraging' passengers than he is, Tylen  heads back, grabs his gun belts on the way and straps them around his waist.

By the time he at the top of the ramp the revolvers are properly located, and he pulls the old fashioned Aviator shades out of  his jacket pocket and then slides them onto his face.

The revolvers and shades,combined with his combat fatigues and bomber jacket,   make him look a bit like a cross between a cowboy and a pilot from some low tech world.  Perhaps I should get a stetson .... he thinks as he takes up a loose 'at ease' position at the top of the ramp.

Shui waits and watches during descent - she doesn't normally enter the cockpit during landfall, and finds it a wonderful experience.  Ash handles the ship as well as their other pilots have, and even Jago relaxes.

Chief Engineer Blake, though?  Not likely.

"Of course, Captain Lanza.  Thank you, Mr. Ogresh."  Shooting him a harried, grateful glance, Shui hurries from the room.  The priorities are backward to her own feelings - first class passengers, then second, then the Low Berths - but that's life aboard a passenger-carrying ship.

So first it's the Selacci's and their mechanized servant.

Ash nodded to Jago, "Aye, aye, Captain."  He rubbed his right knee briefly and then stood and waited to follow Jago.  He was not too sure about what was to be expected here.  Every free trader crew did things a little differently, Ash thought to himself, and he was pretty sure that the given this crew that the Profit Margin would live up to that truism.

"Um... we aren't expecting much trouble are we, Captain?  I mean, I won't need to grab a weapon and be your bodyguard will I?" Ash asked as he fell in line to the right and slightly behind Jago.  He rested his hand on the pommel of his knife briefly.

Along the way out of the ship, Ash stopped by his quarters and grabbed his oilskin duster.

"I'll shoot anyone who looks like they might be considering even thinking about the words 'out of line', just to be sure," Yas says as she tags along with Sushi to herd their own little group of cattle, er, passengers out of the ship.

"So, enjoyed the view?  Rarely get to see it myself, being in the gun control under normal circumstances.  Not like just sitting somewhere with no clue what is going on, eh?" she asks the doctor-steward as they make their way to the passengers.

"Thank you, Ms. Crow."  Shui continues her way along to the first class cabin quarters, Yasmine's quirky humor an expected thing.  Truth be told, if the marine didn't make some kind of comment, the doctor would start looking for real trouble.

"I did, in fact, enjoy the view," she admits.  "Like you, I myself am often caught up in duties when we approach planetfall."  One eyebrow rises as she marches down the passageway to the Selacci abode.  "I had not expected one quite so...crowded, mind.  It leaves me unsettled, and concerned about the crew.  You know marines, Ms. Crowe, and how military personnel act on shore leave - may I have your opinion on the conditions in the spaceport, jam-packed with enlisted men of both the navy and the marines?"

A potentially explosive mixture in any taproom.