The past five weeks have been busy...

Over Espiaux, Simon Newell commended the crew on their actions onboard Suzain.  He praised them for saving the remaining survivors and recovering the stricken lab ship.  Furthermore, he notes that Blackfin Shipping has filed for salvage arbitration in the recovery of Suzain and that the crew, as parties to the proceedings, are entitled to a percentage of any settlement forthcoming.  He does caution though, that proceedings may take several months or years to be adjudicated.

Simon graciously agrees that the crew has earned some rest, but he stresses the need to move forward towards the group’s original objective.  As a token of his goodwill, the company hosts a blowout party in a private room of an elite Espiaux restaurant that night.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Given the short time he had to work with, Hayden did a masterful job lining up cargo, while Thera skillfully filled Gypsy Moth’s passenger staterooms.  Danica, Jacques, and the rest of the crew had their hands full arranging for fuel, life support, and spares, getting the passengers aboard and settled, and docking at highport to load cargo, not to mention plotting the ship’s jump.

Doc had the additional task of keeping a certain female Doc happy until the ship left as well.

When the Gypsy Moth broke Espiaux’s orbit only four days after arriving, the entire crew breathed a short sigh of relief.  True, there hadn’t been much chance for shore liberty, but at least there would be some semblance of routine in the near future.  In her cargo holds, Gypsy Moth carried:

10tons Farm Equipment (still aboard from Alsace) – one 10ton combine
40tons Frozen Seafood (Freight) – five 10ton reefer containers
10tons Fish Oil (speculative) – one 10ton tank container
50tons Petrochemical Lubricants (speculative) – sixty two .8ton pallets of four 200L drums per pallet, plus two single drums
8 tons passenger baggage in crates

1ton News Databanks for Gateway Media

P1 - Two high passengers: Detmar Torben and Yuki Kaman, wealthy honeymooners*
P2 – Two high passengers: Candace and Elle Porchier, teenage daughters of Dorothy*
P3 – One high passenger: Dorothy Porchier, writer
P4 – One high passenger: Harlow Porter, law student
P5 – One high passenger: Marya Rapp, Dorothy Porchier’s publicist
P6: - One high passenger: Dr. Cole Vogt, xeno-ethnographer

* - each passage discounted for double occupancy, but still more profitable than carrying singles

Hayden had shied away from speculating in the stereotypical luxury seafood cargoes, especially since the ship’s port hold was largely full of it as freight.  Instead, his commercial senses told him that oils that didn’t naturally occur on Tupolev would be better bets.  Whether for medicinal or industrial use, saltwater fish didn’t live on Tupolev, and the planet didn’t have the technology to synthesize petrochemicals.

The news reports were safely lodged in the magazine adjacent to the dorsal turret.  They wouldn’t bring a lot of revenue, but a few thousand extra credits was a nice return for otherwise unused space.

As for the passengers, well, they each have their stories.

The honeymooners are rarely seen, except for meals.  Detmar is a lean, muscular endurance athlete of moderate professional ability.  His new bride, Yuki, is the youngest daughter of a prominent Espiaux industrialist.

Ms. Porchier is a noted writer of popular, but not particularly literary romance holo-novels.  She is known for overwrought drama, unlikely plot elements, and near pornographic erotica.  Dorothy, her two daughters, and her publicist Marya, are on a publicity tour through Halowon space.  A drama queen, she incessantly harasses Marya with trivial demands and narcissist self-doubts.  She also takes copious notes about the honeymooners, but Detmar becomes angry when Elle jokes that her mother plans to model a new book after the two.

The elder Porchier daughter, though only seventeen, quickly develops a crush on Lance Charpentier.

Harlow Porter is a law student at the top university on Espiaux.  He is on a fellowship to study pre-digital surveillance civil investigation methodologies on Tupolev.

Marya Rapp, quite simply, is a dingbat.  Although she introduces herself as Dorothy’s publicist, she is, in fact, nothing more than her assistant.  If anything, Dorothy’s high maintenance demands and constant drama reinforce Marya’s belief that she is the vital right hand to a great author, rather than the harried aide to a second-rate pulp romance writer.

Dr. Vogt is bringing several minor Aslan artifacts, all in his baggage or his room, for display on loan to museums on Tupolev.  He is just past middle-age, and, for a rather portly academic, takes his reverence for Aslan warrior culture a bit seriously.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Gypsy Moth spent precious little time in the Vauclain/Ozawa system, just long enough to refuel on Ozawa and have dinner with an old friend of Hayden’s.  After the staid urbanity of Espiaux, Ozawa strikes you as rustic, yet bustling.

Those of you who have been to Ozawa before are surprised at how much the settlement has grown.  Those of you who haven’t are struck by the town’s dusty, boomtown atmosphere. The planet isn’t much in the way of recreation, giving rise to the joke, “I spent a month on Ozawa…last night.”


The company has tried hard to integrate the settlers from disparate cultures, but the divisions between old-timers and new arrivals, as well as from the different planets and polities are never far below the surface.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Day 070

Gypsy Moth has emerged from jump space in the Tupolev system.  You have given the port authorities at EKJ downport your estimated time of arrival early on Day 071 and alerted your freight consignees to the imminent arrival of their goods.

All of you, but especially Thera, are looking forward to the departure of your passengers.  Gypsy Moth can seem cramped with ten souls, the additional eight on a five week voyage have been enough to make you long for some elbow room.

OOC: As usual, assumptions on space transit, unless otherwise stated, are that the ship's transponder and active sensors are on and that she's taking the most direct route to the planet.

OOC2: I know at least one player has a contact on Tupolev.  Let me know of any comms to contacts, of anything you want to ask or do w passengers before landing, and also if any of your characters wanted to buy anything on Espiaux or Ozawa.  I'll give people a chance to respond, then we'll move on to planetside.

Hayden had been busy during the trip, helping to deal with Ms. Porchier's and Ms. Rapp's various demands while also attending to the other passenger's needs.  He had taken to offering drinks at most meals, including Mimosas and Beermosas (OJ and weissbier) at breakfast, in an effort to sedate the passengers a bit and give the crew a few moments of peace throughout the day.

"Just one more day…" Hayden lamented at crew breakfast that morning.  "Does anyone know what the bars are like on Tupolev?" he asked his colleagues.

Danica had spent an unusually large amount of time on the bridge.  Which, given the fact that her quarters were located next to the bridge and that in general the crew knew that she effectively lived at the Gypsy Moth's controls, the fact that she spent a noticeable amount of extra time more there was... almost mind-boggling.  Sequestering herself had started less then two days after the Porchier party had arrived; allowing the rest of the crew ample opportunity to correlate the circumstances.  The first week, Dani always seemed to have good reason for her extended vigil.  But by the fourth week, she had pretty much dropped the pretense of having anything extra to do on the bridge.

The month had been very effective in giving her the time to study, Danica had never actually graduated from any college or university having enlisted in the FRA pretty much immediately after coming of age.  And while, she gotten plenty of education in the school of hard knocks and had had more than her fair share of 'life experiences', Dani had never bothered to try to further her formal education until recently.  So, the study time actually did do her a lot of good.

Not that she neglected her crew duties.  Of course, her piloting duties did not require her to leave the bridge - so, not being able to fulfill those was out of the question.  But always the professional, Danica was present for all required functions with the passengers - whether they be requests or dinners or tours.  Such duties were always carried out efficiently and in a minimum amount of time.  And perhaps she was a touch more distant than normal; but then the mirrorshades never came off in public anyways.  So, who could really tell, certainly the passengers wouldn't?

Similar professionalism was also expected of the others in the crew.  And while she didn't necessarily expect anything to develop between Lance and the elder Porchier daughter, Dani did pull him aside at one point early in the trip on to ensure that was the case.  It would not due for him to be 'preoccupied' and the Gypsy Moth's pilot let her fellow Perseus veteran know that in no uncertain terms.

Dani also never missed a crew meal; she was always willing to commiserate.  The tall brunette nodded in eager agreement to Hayden's assessment of the timing.  "Here, here." she intoned a bit too eagerly, holding up her tankard in a mock toast.  It was filled with whatever green, gloppy fluid she had placed in it this time; she called it 'nutritional mix XII', but anyone with any outdoor experience would swear that her 'nutritional mix' series bore an uncanny resemblance in look and consistency (and smell, actually) to pond scum.

Danica could only shrug noncommittally to Hayden's query about Tupolev bars.  "I hear that they carry alcoholic drinks based on locally produced grains." she quipped matter-of-factly, which Dani knew was a generic enough statement to be useless.  But then she only had as much experience (or less) with Tupolev that he did, since her previous stint into Halowon territory had been as a member of his crew - and Hayden knew it.  And since she didn't imbibe alcohol (at least none that any of the other crew had ever seen), it probably wasn't too surprising that she knew very little (and showed no interest in gaining such knowledge) about Tupolev's (or any other planet's) bar scene.  Dani didn't mind going to bars - especially like now, when required to maintain cover.  But she never made it a personal point to go out of her way.

"A whole day?", quipped the Doc, snarling at his coffee as he plopped down at the table.

"Tupolev bars?  Rowdy, but nothing to code home about", he added distractedly, while adding more sweetener to his cup.  "Still, be an improvement over our present company."

(Not surprisingly, Jim hadn't gotten along so well with the older Porchier gang, nor Ms. Rapp, and his relationship with Dr. Vogt had soured after Jim made some disparaging remarks regarding the barbaric silliness of Aslan warriors.)

At Danica's toasting with her ritual morning concoction, Doc added in exasperation, "As ship's doctor, I'm begging you... can you at least cover that - that whatever it is - at the table?  I can't even smell how awful my coffee is with that stench... "

Doc added more sweetener to his cup.

Thera had had plenty of experience at burying her thoughts and feelings while pleasing clients, so the passengers had caused her no great difficulty, but they were still an irritation and she would be glad to be rid of them. Knowing this was the last day was a welcome thought.

She smiled as the Doc commented on Dani's drink. For her own part, she'd perfected several cultural tea-making rituals as part of her 'studies' aboard that yacht, and had become quite partial to a couple of the brews.

"Not sure about the Tupolev bars; I've been here, but I spent most of my time entertaining on that yacht we destroyed." She smiled at the memory - the memory of the destruction, of course.

It was rare that Jacques did more than was necessary with the passengers. Thera and Hayden had a good handle on it all and he didn't mind taking over some ship's duties when Hayden was concocting beverages or simmering some soon-to-be-wonderful meal. Besides, Dani was always spit-n-polish and on top of the bridge ops. Gave the ship a sense of home, the combination of taking care of unending business and the daily awkward yet warm gatherings. Still, it was a bit odd that Jacques was sitting with Dr. Vogt one night, deep in the last few bottles of Alsacian wine, discussing Aslan society and their warrior culture.

He had a lot of fun with the good doctor, correcting his Tahahorol pronunciation, dispelling myths about the size of Aslan feet and regaling the passenger with imitations of the Aslan merchant crew he had encountered so many years ago. He wasn't lying - some would say he was barely embellishing - but he wanted the academic get a sense what it was like to stand face to face with the people who'd made the doctor's little objects. Jim joined them for a bit, poo-pooing Jacques' dramatics and Aslan warriors in general but Doc soon wandered away with half a bottle of wine after Vogt gave him an acerbic remark about "try respecting other, silly cultures." Jacques merely smiled and slid what looked like an old lump of fused aluminum across the table. "A gift for you," he said to Dr. Vogt. "The last remnants of the flux valve repair that fixed that Aslan vessel and avoided an interstellar - nay, an interspecies - war." Jacques was warm enough inside from the wine that he couldn't tell whether the good doctor's confused look was coming from utter appreciation or utter disdain.

The next morning Jacques looked a bit bleary-eyed but his uniform was sharp and his hand steady. He harrumphed in affirmative to Doc's estimation of Tupolev entertainment offerings. His face clouded a bit when Thera mentioned the yacht but his mood was still light. "We should decide on our route before we hit the port. If we want to maintain our cover we should probably take the rimward path through Troy's Rock and Perseus and we get to Consul in five or six weeks depending on port turnarounds. Or we beeline through Wellesley and get there in three or four."

Jim took a drink of his coffee sweetener mix, made a face, then took Jack up on discussing their future route.

"Troy would at least offer some good Svetlana wine [apparently superior to Alsacian in Jim's view].  Or hop through Wellesley claiming a Krim Confed dest - they have some wild scenery on Chelou.  Be consistent with our cover.  Take as long, but throw off anyone looking at our route to Antioch and it avoids Santander..."

Doc trailed off with another drink, absently adding another dose of sweetener.

In reply to Dr. Jim D. Jones (msg # 7):

Yes, the crew remembered Jacques recent drinking session with Dr. Vogt.  All of you, yes even Dani who may have been watching the session with amusement from her perch on the bridge over the ship's security feeds, though of course she would deny it, remember Vogt's response to Jack's comment about the flux valve. The academic huffed, "Well, yes, it may have prevented a war at the time, but that threat disappeared when Captain Pascal signed the alliance with the Sekhai clan in 38.  At least for us Espiauxers anyway." He then uttered an "Aslan war-growl" and announced he had to relieve himself.

A knot still forms in your stomach as you recall his words.  A secret alliance with the barbaric Aslan?  It seems too unlikely, the sort of thing conspiracy theorists would be on about.  Yet, Vogt seemed to believe it.  Or maybe he just wasn't accustomed to people who had actually met Aslan and knew more about them than he did and was trying to one up Jack.

OOC: Ha, found a way to work a rumor in after all.  Thanks for the setup Jacques! ;)

EKJ downport does not really have a good spacer bar, at least not in the estimation of most spacers you know.  Sure, there are restaurants and concessions that serve alcohol, but nowhere worth your time.  Lansing is a moderate size city, and host to several more establishments of varying quality.

Northport, on the other hand, has been a port for much longer and has a rich history of spacer drinking, spacer gossip, and spacer deals being cut in a handful of establishments.  The most famous of those is probably the BBC, or Botany Bay Cafe, founded over a century ago when Botany Bay was still a thriving colony.  Others, like The Flatback, named for a type of fish and also a ridiculously strong house cocktail, and Ring's, are also popular with spacers on ships from rimward and trailing.

These days most of the larger ships and domestic trade dock at EKJ, while the tramps servicing the Wellesley arm and Trinity Cluster are shunted towards Northport.  According to the routing vector from Port Authority, Gypsy Moth is planned for berth 8E, EKJ Downport.

OOC: Ground transport from EKJ to Northport costs about 20Cr.

"I agree avoiding Santander is likely in our best interests," Jacques said to Doc. "That combined with the time we lost chasing Trills, I think we should go through Wellesley. We don't really need the money we might make cobbling together cargos or passengers under our cover. In fact, we're a supposed to be a high-end outfit and we need to go right to the edge of the frontier."

Jacques sipped his espresso and crossed to the cold unit for a glass of juice. "Krim's a good idea if we had the time but the Pathfinder in me wants to get that scout ship... perhaps we could linger here an extra day or two feigning some pavement-pounding then head straight for Antioch under pretense of a VIP passenger or shipment." He downed the juice and turned his attention back to the espresso. "Not exactly subtle, I know..."


[OCC @ Ref: You're welcome! Let me know whenever you need me to blunder into something! ;)]

"The detour with the Suzain cost us at least a month," Dani noted dutifully, agreeing with Jack, "the trail of the Consul grows colder the longer we linger."  She seems to fall squarely on the side of moving towards Antioch at pace.  At the doctor's request, her tankard was cradled closer to her, but she seemed nonplussed at the consistency or smell, partaking of its contents readily.

Dani said nothing about Santander, knowing that their Chief Engineer was from there and that others - Thera, for example - had more experience with that particular planet and its political environment and (in)stability than she did.

As for the pretense of a VIP passenger or shipment, the Moth's pilot shrugged - from the glance that she gave Jack, the pretense part was the important part.  After the Porchier party was safely dropped off, Danica could unequivocally say that having real passengers on board was not her highest priority.  Cover be damned.

"There is that", agreed the Doc to Dani's statement, absently staring into his mug.

Looking up after a moment's introspection [of Chelou's vistas versus the desire to know the fate of the Consul - his attitude made it apparent he held no hope of helping survivors], he added, "Difference a few weeks make, eh?"

He shrugged.  Looked to Hayden and the rest to see if they were all in accord.

"Not like the Suzain deal helped our cover, and be nice to actually get on with the real mission..."

Thera nodded her assent. Her time on the streets of Santander had not been the happiest of her life - not that any of her life had been particularly happy, though maybe that was about to change. Certainly her time aboard the Gypsy Moth could be rated amongst her best. A change of course would upset no fixed plans.

In reply to Thera Santorini (msg # 12):

Gypsy Moth's approach to Tupolev orbit was relatively routine.  As Tupolev grew to fill the ship's large forward window, you were alerted to an imminent "safety" inspection.  the tell-tale arc of fire, common to lower tech worlds where reaction drives have not yet been completely supplanted by gravitic propulsion, made the approach of the Halowon Navy boat easy to spot.

The grey uniformed naval inspectors were colorless and cold, but efficient.  With a minimum of delay the ship was cleared to land at EKJ Downport and only a 250Cr fine for undefined "violations of general safety", to boot.  You allow yourself a rueful smile.  There must have been at least one Espiaux ship that cleared into Halowon space without a fine of some sort, but you haven't heard of any.  Oh well, on the scale of starship operations 250Cr might as well be a formality.

Early morning twilight is giving way to the start of a ten hour daylight cycle when Gypsy Moth, under Dani's expert guidance, gracefully extends her landing gear and suffers them to touch dirt, or reinforced concrete in this case, once again.

The ship is welcomed by the usual retinue of immigration, agriculture, customs, port officials, cargo receivers, the husbanding agent, and so forth.

Local time is 0735.  the freight will be unloaded starting at 1300 local.  The husbanding agent delivers Hayden a message from the consignee of the farm equipment asking for the captain to contact them immediately.

-------------

The following noteworthy news reports arrived while the ship was on her inbound leg:

Gateway News Agency Report
049-5742
Zagorsk, Svetlana
GNA Report

Crown Prince Hospitalized - Crown Prince Orlov, sovereign of the Principality of Svetlana was rushed to St. Marc's Hospital last night after collapsing at a charity dinner in the city of Zagorsk.  The Crown Prince's eldest son, Prince Designate Erich, has reportedly flown to Zagorsk to be near his father.

051 Update: Original reports of food poisoning have been ruled out.  Speculation that the Prince has had a stroke have been categorically denied by Palace spokespersons.  The Prince "is in stable condition but requires rest after a minor medical complication."  The Prince has not been seen in public since the event.

---------------

Gateway News Agency report
067-5742
Lansing, Tupolev
Lansing Evening Inquirer, Hope Cahring

An 800ton patrol frigate of the Svetlanan Royal Navy arrived in orbit over Tupolev yesterday, bringing unexpected news.  Crown Prince Orlov, 68, of Svetlana appears to have suffered a stroke and is incapable of performing his duties as ruler of the most populous polity in the sector.  No information further is forthcoming from the frigate, the Dohnabe. The ship's captain, Captain First Rank Gregory Galkin, insists his ship is on a routine patrol and transport of diplomatic personnel.  Nevertheless, all citizens on Tupolev and throughout the Empire should be justly concerned about the appearance of a large Svetlanan warship arriving with such severe news.

----------------

Gateway News Agency Report
069-5742
Lansing, Tupolev
Lansing Evening Inquirer, editorial

So, the topic of succession can no longer be ignored in our rimward neighbors.  Unlike the arrogant, and incredibly misguided citizens of the so-called Free Republic, Svetlana has had the benefit of stable rulership for three decades.  Sure, The Principality and our empire have not always agreed, on the Principality's meddling in Perseus and refusal to recognize our legitimate territorial claims to Zeitlin, Nestor, and Jung, for example.  The Principality is also hampered by its' hide-bound nobility, but, regardless, our two peoples have much in common.  Foremost among our common traits is a shared respect for the benefits brought by stable political leadership and a professional civil service.  Also, Prince Designate Erich may prove to be more open on certain subjects than his father.  Therefore, though the head of state may change, this paper cautiously welcomes change and urges our government to reach out, welcome the new ruler, should the Crown Prince in fact be unable to rule further, and take the opportunity to draw our two great peoples closer together.  Peace and the future well-being of the sector demand no less.

-----------------

Also, at Tupolev now are:


Berth Ship              Line          Tonnage   Departure   Destination
NPort Artemis           Artemis Line  400       071     Nest-Pers-Sant-Callisto
1E    Tupolev Muse      Halowon Line  400       071 rtn 072 Zhukov (insystem)
2E    Tupolev Jewel     Halowon Line  400       072 rtn 073 Zhukov (insystem)
3E    Ashton Glory      Halowon Line  200       073         Somerset-Halowon
5E    Vernui Nosit      ICE           400       074         Troy’s Rock-Svetlana
7E    Gulf Crown        Piers Trading 200       076         Somerset
Orbit SRNS Dohnabe      Svetlana Navy 800       076         Chelou
Orbit <restricted>      Halowon Navy
6W    <restricted>      Halowon Navy
8W    Boat 012          Halowon Line  30        var         insystem
8W    Boat 005          Halowon Line  30        var         insystem
7W    Boat 016          Halowon Line  30        var         insystem
7W    Boat 017          Halowon Line  30        var         insystem


Scheduled Arrivals are:


Berth Ship               Line          Tonnage   Arrival     Origin
1W    Tupolev EnchantressHalowon Line  400       072 dep 073 Zhukov (insystem)
2W    Zhukov Hope        Halowon Line  400       073 dep 074 Zhukov (insystem)
Orbit Tokugawa           Ozawa         1000      072         Ozawa
04E   SRNS Veter         Svetlana Navy 150       072         Svetlana-Troy’s Rock
03W   Jervis Bay Odyssey Halowon Lines 400       073         Halowon-Somerset
Orbit Attila             Ozawa         1000      077         Halowon

This message was last edited by the GM at 09:14, Sun 17 Mar 2013.

Danica always considered herself more busy when not piloting than when piloting.  There seemed something pure about it.  Sure there were endless checklists and things to monitor and worry about.  And there was navigation and communications to deal with.  But, honestly, to Dani that stuff didn't always feel like work.  Well, it felt like (and was actual) work, just not work - if that makes any sense.

She eased the Gypsy Moth into position and completed the landing without making it look too difficult.  The raven-haired pilot dutifully went through the post-flight and stand-by checklists.  All in anticipation of starting the cycle all over in a couple of days.  Danica admired the display feeds as they slowly died down, going quiet as the bulk of the ship went into standby mode.  The familiar sub-harmonic humm started to fade and the ex-FRA major allowed herself the conceit of listeining to the last few measures of an allemande resonate through the bridge.  It had been written thousands of years ago by an ancient Solomani composer of what is though to be the 'Baroque' period of Terran musical history.  Dani quite identified with the interleaved nature and the measured, but even, temper of the piece.

She made the standard landing and disembarkation announcements, which to be honest would have been a bit of work if not for the checklists, for the sake of the passengers on-board.  Danica knew that crew knew their stuff; so, she was not worried about them doing their jobs or getting hurt.

For her the frenzy of activity during landing was always the calm before the storm.  Once on the ground, the real work began.  Customs official, taxes, brokers, trading forums, schedules, paperwork, stevedores, &c. and the list just went on.  To Dani, all of that was work - all just so that she could fly things, like the Gypsy Moth.

With Hayden occupied with the passengers, Dani accepted the message from the husbanding agent.  She pinged Hayden to let him know that they had received the message.  But, of course, there wasn't really a Captain on Moth per se any more.  It was better than controlled anarchy, of sorts.  Marginally better.  She also pinged Jack since he seemed more at home playing Captain.  But, this wasn't really the fun part of being Captain, necessarily - at least, she expected that the customer would not be happy with the delayed delivery.

Given the open crew structure on the Moth and perceived urgency of the missive, it only makes sense that Dani make the call at this point.  So, Danica made her way back to the bridge and tapped open a commlink to the consignee of the ten tons of farm equipment.  With the light from the tactical displays playing off of her mirrorshades, the thin brunette took a pull from her tankard; all the while drumming the fingers of her other hand on the console and waiting for the call to go through.

Jim entered the bridge, uncharacteristically clean shaven and with a reasonably unwrinkled outfit, Jinx in his arms.

Seeing Dani's impatient tapping, he dumped Jinx down and unconsciously brushed his official shirt, while smugly asking, "Anxious to see the sights?"

Immediately, he adds, in a more concerned tone, "No problem with ditching the passengers is there?"

The Moth's raven-haired pilot shrugged rather noncommittally when Doc prompted her about shore leave on Tupolev.  Then shook her head when he asked about the passengers, noting, "Ifni!  I hope not.  But you'd have to ask Thera or Hayden about that."

She pointed to the blinking commlink waiting to connect, "Combine shipment consignee wants to talk to the 'Captain'.  ASAP." Danica noted off-hand.  After a pause she added with another shrug, "We are about a month late..."  Her expression was such that she expected a chewing out by the receiver, but then there was nothing that she or the rest of the crew could really have done differently with the Suzain situation.  Nor was there anything that she would have wanted to have done differently in retrospect.  Not that it might or should necessarily mean anything to the customer; business was business.

As waited, she glanced at Jones in his clean-shaven finery.  Finally, her curiosity got the better of her, "So, where are you off to Doc?"  Dani was still in her shipboard coveralls since she expected to be around until after lunch when the unloading started.

"Anywhere but here!", Doc replied with a grin, "Thought to sample some local fares, if they got 'em.  I'm buying anyone interested..."

Glancing at the blinking comm, he added, "Combine guy, eh?  Well, delay couldn't be helped". Jim shrugged, not concerned about such things in the slightest.

"Hayden's deal, but I'll spring for a nice meal for the guy and a guest if that'll help .. Heck, offer stands even if he's not upset."

Jacques made a cursory tour through the lounge as the passengers were disembarking. He made a point of shaking Dr. Vogt's hand before the man left. "Best of luck with your exhibit. Hopefully we'll see it on our way back through."

I really meant that, seeing the Aslan exhibit... would be quite a hoot. He checked the Moth's private comm line on his hand comp. Bridge and cargo tags were piling up and not getting checked off. He looked up to see Hayden dealing with an imbroglio between the honeymooners and Ms. Porchiers' publicist; the young law student Mr. Porter was vigorously shaking his head and gesturing.

Jacques smiled and headed to the bridge. He keyed a private crew-only channel. "Ms. Aksina, please check the onboard sec-cams for whatever Hayden's discussing in the passenger lounge as of several minutes ago. Make a back-up file if we captured anything." When he arrived on the bridge he whistled at the doctor's finery. "Loaded for bear, eh Jim?" he chuckled. He brought up the manifest on his hand comp, looking to Dani. "Hayden's stuck; you want to call this guy or should I?"

Thera continued to assist with disembarking the passengers and cargo.

"If that's what they serve here!", Jim jovially replied to Jack's comment.

"Man wants to talk to the 'captain'?", Doc stated with a shrug, "Don't see it matters much whether he talks to the Captain of Operations or the Captain of Navigation - Dani's of a mind he just wants to chew on someone..."

"I've offered to treat the guy and a guest to whatever fine dining this rock offers."

Notably, Jim didn't offer to talk to the man directly - which was probably a good thing given he'd likely just tell the man where he could put his heavy equipment if given any grief over their delay...

OOC: Figure we are all entitled to use 'captain' with optional preposition - I've seen this in RW business where 'CEO' was used ala 'CEO of Finance' instead of CFO.  Simply avoid the singular, definitive article, 'The', and use the preposition only when skirting accountability or responsibility. ;)

Dani glanced in Jacques' direction when he entered, giving him a nod of acknowledgement while she waited for the commlink to connect.  The dark-haired pilot shook her head and waved him off when he offered to take the call, mouthing the word "No."  She motioned to the console and the blinking light for the call connection.  She tapped the mute button for a moment, "I got it."

It was hardly necessary for Jacques to take this particular call, pretty much anyone of the crew could deal with it at this point.  If she needed to be 'Captain' for the moment, Dani was willing to accept simultaneous demotion and promotion all at once.  Sometimes the Doc's liberal (civilian) use of the word 'Captain' as a modified adjective came in useful.  It had been a really long time since Danica had been a captain (in the FRA).

Even though she could see some of the festivities over the internal and external video feeds, Danica queried her two crewmates, "Have all of the passengers and their luggage disembarked?"  After a beat, she prompted them with one simple word, denoting her specific interest - the most important, of course, "Porchier?"  While officially and legally their duties may be dismissed once their (former) passengers left the sovereign sanctity of the ship itself, if they came to blows in the docking bay.... well, it still might reflect poorly in the arena of public opinion.  And so, probably should be avoided.

Doc snorted.

"Clinically .. most of our passengers 'disembarked' long before boarding.  Especially that one."

Jacques chuckled at Doc's remark and he was happy to let Dani handle the cargo call. "I'll join you for dinner, if you don't mind," he said to Doc. "It will be nice to really stretch the legs for a bit." He headed off to his stateroom to change.

In reply to Jacques Keveloh (msg # 23):

The consignee for the 10ton farm combine turned out to be a well-mannered elderly gal, presumably in tennis shoes though the vid didn't show that much.  Chucklingly, she wecomed the arrival of her principal's cargo with a breathless, "Finally!" and hinted that if a steep discount (perhaps even free?) were applied to the freight rate that her client wouldn't quibble over the late delivery.

Disembarkation is a routine procedure for most of the passengers, though the honeymooners do take several holos of the ship and with most of the crew as `keepsakes' (those PCs with justifiable reasons to fear cameras are assumed to have suddenly remebered something in the engine room needing urgent attention/maintenance).  The exception, of course, is Ms. Porchier.  For her, leaving the ship, like most things in life, is a deeply emotional experience.  Eventually, however, she too is gone.

By 1600 local, the freight has been offloaded, the data downloaed, and the passengers cabins cleaned.  After a hard-day's work, a little relaxation and seeing the sights of downtown Lansing appears in order.

OOC: All ashore who's going ashore.  Please give me, by whatever means desired, a brief description of type of clothing/gear carried for those going out.  Not every little item needed, just broad strokes are fine.

OOC 2: Yes, rumors of my death are greatly exagerrated.  I'll try not to do the "disappearing GM" trick for a little while. :)

Doc changed to his casual about the town suit and is ready to go in his normal fashion - with necklace attached Monocle (HUD) habitually tucked into his breast pocket, his comm concealed by his right sleeve, a comm dot on the same side collar, a slight bulge in that side's thigh pocket from his hand computer and the outline of his laser scalpel visible in the right back pocket of his slacks. Crew know him to also sport a flat knife he's fond of using to open packages and clean his nails with. (Doc's right handed. ;)

Doc's ready to hit the town.

He's also quite agreeable to waving the delivery fee for the tardy combine - not that he really gives much of a care over such matters - and inviting the consignee to dinner or at least getting a dining recommendation out of her.

Danica took the call with the combine consignee and was pleasantly surprised that it went as well as it did.  Not one to look a gift horse in the mouth, she arranged for pick-up and having introduced herself as the 'Captain' assured the consignee that a discount was in order; Dani did not, however, set a number.  Instead, she played the 'I'll have a contract addendum drawn up in triplicate for validation and verification by the financial department...' card.

With nary a smirk, Dani then relayed Doc's invitation to dinner between the crew and the woman and her client.  She called it an 'Act of Goodwill' with the obvious implication that the terms of the discount might be reasonably discussed over dinner as a matter of course.  Of course.  Or not, as the invitees would prefer.  Naturally, the woman (or her client) would be allowed to choose the venue that they preferred.

Once the call was over, she bumped the details to Hayden.  Not in an effort to pass the buck (well, not primarily to pass the buck), but more knowing that he had a much better grasp of what might be most appropriate in this case for compensation.

After that, Dani suspended her console session and moved to her stateroom to readied herself to accompany the others in Lansing.  After a quick bout in the fresher, the Moth's pilot re-emerged from her quarters.

She wore a dark-colored, denim jacket over her tear-resistant (re: ballistic cloth) coveralls.  Generally speaking, the raven-haired pilot didn't seem to have much other wardrobe, per se. then her tailored coveralls.  They were form-fitting enough, which is probably why the jacket was necessary.  Tucked under her left armpit was a small bulge where Dani usually kept a her stunner in a shoulder holster.  With the jacket usually zipped up, as it normally was, the weapon was quite inconspicuous.  The wide leather belt around her waist sported a sheathed service knife which bore the worn insignia of the FRA upon it.  The leather grip of blade showed plenty of wear and care.  Her left hand and forearm bore her dataglove style computer, which was networked with the earbud-style p-comm that was placed in her left ear.  And, of course, Danica sported her ever-present mirrorshades.

She checked the internal and external sensor streams as well as the summary diagnostic displays running on the Gypsy Moth's core from her pilot's console one last time, before locking up the session and turning towards the crew lounge to meet up with the others going ashore.
This message was last edited by the player at 15:28, Tue 10 Sept 2013.

Hayden looked over the combine's bill of lading (which had at least 17 exceptions to relive the carrier from liability... half of which he knew weren't worth the ink required to print them) along with his worn pocket guide to interstellar Admiralty law.  Knowing that the shipment was more pretext than profit, he worked out the most favorable discount possible for the consignor.  Unless the math of the matter indicated the shipment should be gratis however, Hayden wasn't inclined to waive the entire shipping fee.  A 99% discount was one thing - but free was an otherwise alien concept to the seasoned merchant!

With a copy of the settlement drafted and distributed to everyone's handcomps, Hayden moved to more pressing matters: finding a bar.  He donned his ship's uniform trousers, a fresh shirt, socks, underwear, belt, uniform cap, along with his crew coat and black patent leather shoes, though certainly not in that order.  He pulled off his name patch and extraneous insignia from the hook and loop fastener on his coat, but left the Gypsy Moth logos on it and his hat.  He put his comm and plenty of cred chips in his pocket.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:58, Tue 10 Sept 2013.

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 27):

Monica, for that is the name of the elderly gal working in the receiving department of the farm combine's consignee, cackles so lustily at Hayden's suggestion of a 99% discount that part of her denture slips out!  She readily agrees to Hayden's suggestion and you get a vivid reminder that lab-grown replacement teeth are still a bit beyond the reach for most citizens at Tupolev's TL.

In response to the dinner invitation, Monica suggests meeting at the BBC, perhaps the most well-known spacer hangout on Tupolev.  It is a bit far away, almost an hour via public transport, but the subway/rail system in Lansing is safe, cheap, and generally efficient.  Or you can taxi a bit quicker for about Cr20.

OOC: I'm going to leave undefined Thera's, Jacques', and Bertrand's presence with the group going ashore or choice to remain on the ship until their players have had a chance to respond.  You lads and lass just chime in when you get the chance.

You step out into the protracted twilight of evening on Tupolev.  Because of the gloom, you instinctively look up to check for clouds but there are none, just the weak reflected light off the gas giant around which Tupolev orbits.  In short order an electric cart pulls up, to convey you quickly and comfortably from Gypsy Moth's berth to the starport gate.

OOC: Dani and Hayden, can I get a skill roll from each of you?  2d6+2 please.

Jacques showered and changed into some casual street clothes, his usual dark jeans, loose shirt and a lightweight dark jacket. He was wearing his protect suit underneath everything, and considered his stunner but then thought better of it. He did slip his stealth dagger on, the body sheath tucked inconspicuously under his left arm.

With his hand comp and comm in his jacket pockets, he slipped his credit chip into the front pocket of his jeans and joined the others waiting for the car to the starport gate.

Thera wore a black trouser-suit and blouse with a sash belt and her favourite necklace. A pair of ankle boots and a shoulder bag containing her comm and some spending money along with the usual girl-stuff completed her outfit.

She carried a dagger strapped to her forearm and a pistol and spare mag in a discreet shoulder holster (LL3 here, I believe?)

She joined the others as they left the ship.

Danica didn't seem phased by lowered light level even with her shades on.  As she looked up, though, since she wasn't quite sure what to expect to see in the sky.  The high level of particulates in the atmosphere did created some interesting colors and patterns.  She paused only briefly to admire them.  Admittedly, it has been a while since the crew had actually been dirtside.

Approaching the cart, Dani turned to the others and prompted as she straightened one of the pleats in her jacket, "Given the five of us, I presume we should pack into a cab?"  She checked her dataglove to see if there was any standard datanets publicly available to start looking up local guides and businesses...

[OOC:  06:55, Yesterday: Danica Moreau rolled 9 using 2d6+2. Skill Check.]
This message was last edited by the player at 15:59, Thu 12 Sept 2013.

In reply to Danica Moreau (msg # 31):

As you near the gate on the electric cart, something is a little odd.  Outside the fenceline a young man is taking pictures with a telephoto lens.  At first it seems benign, but then you realize he's taking pictures of the five of you!

The camera is better than the typical tourist "quickshot" type rig, and may be of professional grade.  He's looks like he's trying to be covert, but he's doing a piss poor job.

He appears to be in his mid-twenties, medium height, pale skin, dark hair, slender build, casual clothes and jacket.

He's only about 40M away, but on the other side of the fenceline.

Jim had been atypically quiet as they disembarked, his normal enthusiasm when hitting dirtside had suddenly evaporated after seeing the farm consignee's dentures slip out.  The sight reminded him they were now in the Halowon Empire, which didn't rate public welfare the way their Republic did.  It also reminded him that the outcome of their mission could well mean war with these peoples.  If the Halowon Empire was, in fact, attacking Free Republic starships outside its own borders, a state of war may well already exist.

Spotting the amateur 'spy' did nothing to dispel his brooding - re-enforcing the fact they might right then be considered on 'enemy soil'.

But, nobody had come out to apprehend them, so maintaining their cover seemed quite prudent... Jim smiled huge and enthusiastically waved at their 'Paparazzi', declaring 'Hey, we've got fans!'

"Subtle as each other!" murmured Thera. Then to the group: "Shall we go ask him what his interest is - assuming he hangs around long enough to reach him? Could be he's heard something about us, or maybe he's snapping all newcomers."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:49, Thu 12 Sept 2013.

In reply to Thera Santorini (msg # 34):

Perhaps because of Doc's waving, or perhaps because the cart is nearing the gate (and there would be nothing to impeded the group from chasing after the "paparazzi" once they're through the gate), the "paparazzi" stuffs his camera in a bag and begins quickly walking towards the nearest corner.  He checks over his shoulder every few seconds to see if the group is following.

The group is now at the starport's crew/service gate.  There are two bored SPA guards there, who show the group no more than passing interest.  They wave the group through with barely a glance.  From experience, you know that the guards only real interest in people is to check that they're on a crew manifest or local access list before allowing them access to the port.  Really the guards are there to prevent movement of unauthorized goods from moving in or out.  The guards don't seem to have noticed the "paparazzi".

"Moscow Rules..." Hayden said, quoting some very obscure Solomani reference before adding his own wave to the Doc's.

At the gate, he proceeded through with a travel weary, but determined look, as if getting stopped wasn't an option.  A slight nod acknowledged the guard's waive through.  In Hayden's experience, it was never a good idea to stop and ask about anything, or look around at any starport check point.  Speak only when spoken to, hand over only what was asked, and treat each checkpoint as if clearing it was a fait accompli and the guards were wasting their time and yours if they stopped you.

"A cab sounds good," Hayden said when Dani asked about transport.  "I'd be up for finding out what they call the local firewater here."

The edges of Dani's mouth quirked up slightly and she chuckled at Hayden's remark; but she did give him a slight, knowing nod.  She shook her head and then shrugged at Thera's suggestion.  "Wouldn't really help, T." the raven-haired pilot remarked quietly off-hand; the way she saw it, there was no way that they could easily close the distance and confront the man without creating a serious security incident and create even more unwarranted attention.  She didn't bother to wave at the man and his camera.

Danica was quiet and professional as she quickly followed Hayden through the checkpoint.  She tried to follow his lead making sure that there was not reason to doubt their connection, story, or any other detail about their presence.  Of course, the mirrorshades helped her to maintain the appearance of a cool, calm demeanor.

Once outside of the security gate, Dani started to cast about for some local private transport at Hayden's behest.

Doc smiled at Thera and chuckled as their 'paparazzi' scampered away.  "Well, guess that means no interview for the cover of the Tupolev daily."

After shuffling past the SPA checkpoint, he checked his comm unit to see what local options were available.. "Don't mind stretching the legs, but a taxi'd be good, especially we hit this BBC joint the farm lady mentioned."

In reply to Dr. Jim D. Jones (msg # 38):

Taxis are readily available and the ride to the BBC uneventful (some generous soul please deduct Cr20 for the cab ride).

The BBC is near the old north port.  Those of you who have done a lot of spacing are a bit shocked how run down north port has gotten in the couple years since you have last seen it.  At the moment, there is only one free trader on the tarmac.  Bits of trash blow around the unused landing pads.

In contrast to the underutilized port, the BBC is surprisingly lively.  The open floorplan and basic furnishings don't do much to dampen the noise, it has always been a loud place, especially tonight as most of the crowd are local.

You're concerned about finding an op table, until to catch sight of Monica.  She has already pulled two tables together and staked out her spot.  She sees you, waves cheerily, and calls to you, "Over here guys!"

Jack made a mental note of the photographer's appearance, including the bag with camera in it. After passing through starport security he waved down a taxi. "I've got this," he said as he slipped his credit chit into the payment slot.

He kept an eye out for a tail, though he felt it was probably unnecessary. Still, it was an odd thing, and made him wonder if the story of the Trills and the rescue of the science team had just made it here. If the "paparazzi" had a more sinister intent, it was best not to speculate... He checked the streets again as they passed into the BBC, and scanned the crowd for anyone with a camera.

"Thanks, Jack".

On entering the BBC, Jim scanned the place with an eye for any captivating 'specimens'. Monica's enthusiastic invite threw him a bit, but he recovered and gave her a smile as he headed to the 'reserved' tables.

The raven-haired pilot nodded to Jack as he got the tab on the taxi and the five of them piled into the vehicle.  Dani purposefully looked out one of the side windows, fastidiously keeping her eyes off the road in front of them and the driver.  It was less about personal comfort level and more about professional courtesy, in her opinion.

Danica having noted that Doc had used a rather irreverent term for the woman they were about to meet, dutifully reminded him of her real name.  "Monica," she emphasized simply before the quintet actually entered the establishment, "is quite possibly waiting for us already."  They had taken their time getting there.  And as it turned out, the woman was already waiting for them.

The thin ex-spook noticed Jack's preoccupation with the crowd and while letting him continue his surveillance, gently started to guide him towards the tables.  While she could understand that he might be on edge - for she didn't particularly like the camerabug earlier either - Danica also figured that they should stay together.  As they wended their way through the crowd, her own mirrorshaded eyes made contact with the bartender's and with a gesture ensured that they got some measure of service.

Dani held out a hand to Monica as she approached the table.  "Thank you for meeting with us.  It was incredibly nice of you to do so, especially on such short notice..." she offered with genuine, if professionally tempered, enthusiasm to start the evening.

Thera cast a professional eye over the bar's clientele as they entered. She'd spent enough time in places like this to read them at a glance. She could sense the approach of a bar brawl like animals could sense an earthquake. She knew the others were keyed up about the cameraman even though they were playing it cool. She stayed with them and gave a polite smile as they met Monica.

In reply to Thera Santorini (msg # 43):

Thera has indeed logged a lot of time in bars, from the extremely seedy to the upscale.  The BBC tonight strikes her as lively but peaceful.  That could change later, but it is still pretty early.

Doc's reconnoiters the place with the experienced eye of a connoisseur and veteran raconteur, taking note of several "specimens".

Monica appears to be a small, slight woman in her mid-60s.  She has visible,but faded, tattoos on the side of her neck and her hand and, from the looks of it, is sipping bourbon on the rocks through a straw.  Her eyes are alert and twinkle when speaks, though she often seems to be people-watching even in the middle of conversation.  "Heh heh, glad to meet you, gave me an excuse to go out, heh heh."  She taps Hayden playfully on the shoulder, "I thought I'd seen it all, but ninety nine percent discount, heh heh."

“Well, we try to take care of our customers.  I just wish we could have gotten it here soon.  Unfortunately the delay was unavoidable.” Hayden said before ordering bourbon on the rocks as well, sans straw.  He didn’t care to elaborate on the shipping delay, hence the timing of the drink request.  When he was done, he changed the subject.

”Speaking of customers, I don’t suppose you know anyone interested in fish-oil or petrochemical lubricants?  I suspect you’re the type of gal who has a handle on most comings and goings in these parts.”

Doc ordered the first thing mentioned when he asked what local spirits were good.  Having judged the 'scenery' pretty decent, he was content to just look for a bit.  As he imbibed the drink, he was only half paying attention to the banter at the table.

So he nearly choked on his drink when he caught part of the conversation where Hayden asked something about 'anyone interested in fish-oil or petrochemical lubricants' ... his mind being on other things at the time.

It took a moment before he realized they were probably talking about cargo related to their cover story...

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 45):

Monica arches an eyebrow, "Fish oil and lubricants, heh heh?  Sure, I could make some introductions."  She lets the comment hang and takes a long sip of her bourbon.

OOC: Hayden, with your trading experience you know the value of local networks and references.  In game terms, a positive introduction from Monica is probably worth a +1 Sell DM, maybe even an outside chance for a +2.

Like Doc, Danica also scanned the crowd while Hayden and Monica talked shop.  Unlike Doc, Dani was not limiting herself to just those that looked good.  Her training was more looking for anything out of place.  Anything unusual.  Anything that just didn't feel right.  Anything that might be potential trouble for the establishment (well, besides her and her companions).  Admittedly, she was definitely on edge from the unsolicited photo-shoot at the docking bay.

Knowing that is was his area of expertise, the Gypsy Moth's pilot idly prompted the crew's navigator as she continued to people watch, "Jack, why don't you order a couple of bottles of wine for the table..."  Dani had never been much of a drinker.  But, in social situations, she would hold a glass in her hand.  And the contents would eventually disappear.  Slowly.

In reply to Referee (msg # 47):

"We'd be grateful for any help.  Not a 99% commission grateful, but grateful none the less." Hayden said with a wry smile.

"So Monica, are you from Tupolev?" Hayden asked.  He had learned the hardway not to guess where people were from based on accents - not that he could discern Monica's anyway.  He followed up with small talk, asking about her job, family, and if she had ever been a spacer.

Jack smiled and introduced himself to Monica as Hayden fell easily into trade banter. He nodded to Dani and strolled away to the nearest bartender to peruse the local wine offerings. He found a couple passable bottles and ordered another bourbon and straw for Monica.

While waiting he surreptitiously scanned the crowd a bit more, trying to take in a few details. He added a round of mineral waters to the order, paid and then sat down with the group. He poured for the ladies first, then the gents and offered an easy-going "Cheers, my friends."



OOC: @ Ref, figure Jack is staying in the Cr50-75 range for this round, decent drink but not ostentatious.

Despite a certain level of preoccupation appreciating the more intriguing forms in the joint, Jim didn't fail to notice Dani's edginess.

During the small talk with Monica he managed to casually interject a leading question related to their earlier encounter - "So does everyone landing here get special photo taking treatment, or just celebrities like us?"

In reply to Dr. Jim D. Jones (msg # 51):

Monica chuckles at Hayden's joke and pulls out a cell phone.  She queries Hayden briefly on the particulars of the cargo, then pulls out her mobile phone and says, "Excuse me for a minute, I'll plant some seeds now."
She gives Hayden a grin and a wink and starts tapping away on an old-fashioned SMS text.

She looks up, non-plused by Doc's question but quips, "Did someone already fall for you handsome?"

As Monica is putting her phone away, one of Doc's "specimens" approaches the table...



"Hey Monica, how've you been?"  She looks around the group and continues, "Who're your friends?"

Monica responds, "Still dirtside Dayani!? You must be going crazy girl, heh heh."
This message was last edited by the GM at 13:54, Tue 24 Sept 2013.

Jim smiles at Monica's query, "Lots of someone's."

"But this someone was a nondescript male taking head shots of all of us as we left our ship and with some high end equipment.  And looked like he was trying not to be noticed doing it.  Left in a hurry when I waved to him."

Doc quickly focused on Monica's friend as she made her approach - and just as quickly was the first to extend his hand, "Doctor Jones, call me Jim.."

He smoothly snagged a nearby seat, making space adjacent his own, "Please, join us."

Thera eyed the competition warily as a matter of habit, but gave her a pleasant enough smile. Thera was not looking to collect men this evening.

Danica pursed her lips and tacked onto Doc's description, "Likely a 12x telephoto lens with chromatic aberration compensation."  She took a small idle sip from her wine glass, before adding, "He looked pretty young - and not very professional.  Despite the equipment issued to him..."

She paused in her musings, as Dayani approached the table.  The mirrorshades shifted slightly and then moved up and down a bit, appraising and assessing the young woman.  The Moth's pilot remained silent; her face impassive - a look that might have been mistaken for haughty.

Then the edges of her mouth curled up slightly, when Doc invited the young lady to join them.  A slight shake of the head was her concession to the incredulity of the situation.  She leaned forward, still not quite sure what to make of Dayani.  "Danica." she stated simply as an introduction.  Then she took another sip of wine and leaned back once more.

Jack nodded in agreement at Danica's assessment of the photographer. "Wasn't very surreptitious, was he? Monica, have you heard anything about an animal called a Trill?"

Chuckling lightly as Doc did his patented shuffle and made room for the newcomer, he stood and extended a hand. "Hello, I'm Jacques. Care for some wine?"

In reply to Jacques Keveloh (msg # 56):



Dayani flashes Doc a lopsided smile, "Sorry Jim, I've got somewhere else to be..." To Jacques she adds, "...but if you really want to buy me that glass of wine, just come by the Flat Tail* a little later.  I think I know someone who wants to meet you."

She gives Monica a quick hug that seems more formality than genuine affection and gives the group a sardonic smile and wave with her fingers as she departs.

Watching Dayani drift away, Monica remarks, "Well, she sure is something."
  Then, with a confident laugh, "But if I were her age I could still kick her ass, in business, the bar, or the back alley."

Once Dayani is gone, Monica answers Jacques question, "I suspect a joke's coming along, but I'll play.  Nope, can't say I've ever heard of one of them. What's a Trill?"

* = Most of you know the Flat Tail.  It is a bar near the BBC, but little less expensive, usually a lot less busy, and with a more intimate, booth style, layout in contrast to the BBC's open floorplan.
This message was last edited by the GM at 18:54, Thu 26 Sept 2013.

Doc takes the 'brushoff' in good natured stride, wishing Dayani a good evening.  As he returned the chair he had borrowed, he responded to Monica with a wink, "You're not her age?", before turning to Jack and adding, "Yeah, tell her what's a Trill, Jack."

Jim finished his drink, admiring Dayani's retreating form as it occurred to him late that the young lady's visit was probably not just random happenstance.

Jack blushed slightly as Dayani left. "Did she think I was hitting on her?" he said to no one in particular.

He sat and refilled his glass, smiling at Monica's comment. "No, no joke. Two meter long, furry spider crab things that breathe... methane, I think? Ammonia? Can't recall. They seemed like a big deal a couple systems back so I thought perhaps our photographer friend... well, never mind. Just a thought."

He seemed a bit flustered by Dayani's parting shot. "What's Dayani do for a cred, Monica?"

In reply to Jacques Keveloh (msg # 50):

Hayden ordered another two bourbons for Monica and himself.  There were plenty of worlds where buyer and seller agents were only dealt with over the planetary net.  Hayden appreciated the chance to put a face to the name and have a conversation in person.  Too often mercantile exchanges were arms length affairs over comm channels and text interfaces.  It was nice to sit down and chat with someone who shared the same interest.  The gregarious spacer seemed to be enjoying talking with Monica - two veterans of similar experience sharing war stories.

Seeing Jones lick his wounds, Hayden interrupts his conversation with Monica to offer some advice to the ship's resident libertine physician.

"Dammit Jim, I'm a merchant, not cupid*, but it seems like that was an invitation if ever there was one.  I wouldn't leave a lady waiting at a bar for me, you can bet on that.  Do you know the two bulls story?" Marks asked.

*OOC: I've been waiting the whole game to use a damn it Jim... ;)
This message was last edited by the player at 22:11, Thu 26 Sept 2013.

Jim feigned injury, "Not me!  Seems she more fancied our boy Jack here!"  ("Maybe she's got somethin' against doctors", he muttered.)

"But, we could move this over to the Tail in a bit and see how Jack fares over there - lady seemed more business than pleasure you ask me," he added with a smirk.

*OOC: Good one Hayden! :D
Edit: Oops, corrected bar name
This message was last edited by the player at 22:50, Fri 27 Sept 2013.

Dani shook her head.  First at the Doc's bravado.  And then at Hayden's question about the 'two bulls'.  It wasn't that she hadn't heard the joke (she had - it was one of Hayden's favorites), the thin brunette was merely playing the 'straight woman' as it were.  And keeping the conversation going.

She had also remembered what Hayden had said about Moscow Rules.  And even though she had broken one by giving Dayani her name, Danica remained vigilant.  Information was the true commodity in this day and age.  Even if, or especially because, the Gypsy Moth and her crew were on a mission.  She sipped and watched the young woman's receding figure as well.  But not for what it was or how it was shaped, but to see exactly where it was going and who else it might meet or bump into along the way.

Too many strange coincidences for her.  "I think that she has heard of you, Jack." Dani posited, her tone was slightly guarded, "she bolted immediately once she got wind of your name..."

In reply to Danica Moreau (msg # 62):

Monica thanks Hayden for the bourbon by cracking, "Trying to get me drunk sweetie, heh heh?"

To Jacques, "Dayani's an astrogator, and a decent one from what I hear.  She's been working this ship or that one out of here for a couple years now.  Won't work for Halowon or Ozawa Lines though, sticks to the smaller outfits."

"I don't know about you kids, but I'm about ready for some eats."  The menu in the BBC is pretty standard pub fare, nothing to comm home about.  On the bright side, it isn't pre-packaged or pre-cooked, and looks to be a nice change of pace from starship food.  Enough of a change of pace that you're able to put aside lingering doubts about TL-7 sanitation...

Doc orders whatever the first night's special is and asks Monica, "So anything interesting happening here or with the empire?"

Jack lets Doc's comments on Dayani's intentions slide by with an easy, "ha, you lost!" shrug but at Dani's remark he offers a sardonic smile. "Indeed. Though I never thought of myself as someone with any reputation to speak of."

Jack's smile grows as he hears Monica's words. "Alright, I give in... You're all reading too little into this... Dayani and I are ex-tentmates from an Astrogators' Society camping trip years ago. Role-playing first contact was a big part of the training... sounds like Dayani wants to replay one of our old scenarios. So yes, I'll be stopping by the Flats after we eat." He chuckles sheepishly and pours himself a little more wine. He sips then winks good-naturedly at Dani but their time on the bridge together lets her see the real intent of his eyes: Let's drop this for now...

Once Dayani's figure disappears out the door Jack orders the special as well.

In reply to Jacques Keveloh (msg # 65):

Monica answers Doc's question, "Oh, you know, this and that.  I tell you I wouldn't want to be in the Grafdom of Miranos on Perseus right now, heh heh.  The Graf and Prince Erich of Svetlana hate each other to death.  Now that the Crown Prince is dead, might want to have a care taking trade to Miranos for a while."  She shrugs, "...but, nothing ventured nothing gained, heh heh."

Dinner is actually better than expected.  The menu isn't fancy, but the food is well-prepared and the portions are good.  Monica keeps up her end of the conversation with good-natured quips and innuendo throughout the meal.

At the end of dinner Monica thanks you effusely for the invitation and makes arrangements to meet with Hayden tomorrow morning.

OOC: If anyone wants to pump Monica for more info or do anything else at the BBC, no worries.  Otherwise, let me know where you want to go..."

OCC: Doc will head to the Flat Tail with Jack (assuming he is keeping that intention)...

Hayden was in the mood to blow off a little steam, especially after the passengers they had on the trip.  He polished off a third bourbon at the BBC before heading (not quite stumbling at this point) over with the others to the Flat Tail.

After Monica left and the crew was gearing up for the trip to the Flat Tail, Jack murmured to the group, "So, Dayani. I'm guessing she's a go-between for a messenger from Petra Zamora. Maybe Simon. Threw me for a moment, didn't expect such a cavalier approach in Halowon space. I could be wrong but I think we're about to get an update on Consul."

He let that hang as they exited BBC. "The Tail's close, why don't we walk?"

Thera kept her eye on Dani. She wasn't about to leave her alone in a bar, but she was happy to move on if everyone was going to the Flat Tail.

"I knew it," announces Doc smugly. (obviously having known no such thing)

"Yeah, an after dinner walk is prescribed," he added, following Jack contentedly.

The Gypsy Moth's pilot chatted as necessary and then waved idly to Monica as the elderly woman left.

Danica stood with the others when they made ready to leave and make their way to the Flat Tail.  Her meal was only half-eaten, though she was clearly done.  And her wine glass was still half-full, though - once again - she was clearly done with it.

She straightened the pleats on one of her sleeves and the raised an eyebrow at Jack's assertion about Dayani's actual employment.  She shrugged and noted rather nonchalantly, if rather quietly, "She's not that discreet.  But given how blatant the intelligence gathering is here."  Danica left the rest unstated - it was all suppositions and circumstantial anyways.  Her tone wasn't disparaging or trite, she actually wasn't really sure what to make of it all.

Inhaling deeply for a moment, Dani nodded to the Doc, "Yes, a constitutional would do us all some good, I suspect..."  A walk would definitely do all of them some good.

In reply to Danica Moreau (msg # 72):

The night air feels good on your faces, though it is still a bit wamrer and heavier than you'd consider optimal, even with a brisk breeze.  A short walk leads you to the Flat Tail.

The cool, controlled climate inside the bar is a nice contrast from outside and the comfortable ambient lighting and low murmer of conversation is inviting and relaxed.  The bar is laid out with a stools/standing type bar to your left and high-walled booths for 6-10 people on your right and further back.  The furnishings and decor aren't expensive, but the overall atmosphere is pleasant.

The clientele appear to be a small few spacers and spacer hangers-on, as well as more numerous dirtside blue-collar types.  The place is not particularly crowded.

Dayani is lazily leaning on the bar near the entrance when you walk in.



She spots you, languidly straightens up, and begins strolling towards the back of the bar.  With a slight smile and nod of her head she indicates you should follow.

she leads you back to one of the booths towards the back of the bar.  The lone occupant of the booth is the same young man who was photographing you earlier.

He is maybe mid-twenties, lean, and slightly taller than usual.  Medium-length (by male standards) dark brown hair and a face and hands that are clearly no strangers to work.  His clothes are mid-lower class casual, with no evidence of weapons.  A half-empty bottle of beer is on the table, of a common local brand.  Both his hands are folded and resting on the table as well.  He looks pleased to see you, but is clearly nervous as well and trying not to show it.

Dayani invites you to sit with a simple hand gesture and grins lopsidedly.  She quips flippantly, "Table for seven?"

Doc casually scanned the bar as he followed the young woman's lead, remarking at the table with his own lopsided grin, "Looks like its all setup.  And our admirer from earlier - hope you got my good side..."

Thera checked out the room as she entered, and when Dayani led them to the photographer's booth, she hung back with the intention of getting an outside seat, facing the door. She didn't like being hemmed in, just in case she needed to move fast.

Jack chuckled ruefully as he saw the young photographer. He was obviously expecting someone else. He kept his eyes on the guy, standing at the table's edge. "Hello again, Dayani. Who's your friend?"

Danica entered with the others and when she recognized the young female astrogator and her companion at the table, sidle up close to young man.  Her face was a masque, though there was a slightly feral smile on her face - one that showed, perhaps, a bit too much tooth.  Of course, the mirrorshades masked the eyes, which was probably key to the look.

She remained silent as Jack engaged the two in conversation, merely placing her manicured hands on the table with their fingers interlaced.  Dani merely needed to remain close to the young man; she did her best work up close.  Danica was pretty sure that the others were all quite well aware of her 'interview' style.  The raven-haired pilot of the Gypsy Moth was generally better a playing the Bad Cop™.  But only when necessary.

"Well this is interesting," Hayden said as he sat down at the table and ordered a soda water.  He figured whatever this was about, he'd better stop drinking for it.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:36, Thu 10 Oct 2013.

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 78):



Once everyone is seated (except Jacques), the man coughs, "Uhh, my name is Mario Gazdik.  Please sit down.  Sorry for stalking you guys earlier and for meeting you here like this.", he begins sheepishly.

At this point Dayani interjects, "Yeah, good thing these boots were made for walking.  I've been to half the dives on this side of town looking you lot because he", she jerks her thumb at Mario, "is so damn paranoid."

Mario flushes red.  To Dayani he quietly splutters, "Keep it down."

Dayani arches her eyebrows and compresses her lips, but instead of saying anything she picks an invisible piece of lint off her leather slacks and pointedly looks the other way.

Mario squeezes one fist in the other hand.  Cagily, he dangles, "I may be looking for a ship for something."  He shrugs with a forced casualness, clearly watching to gauge your reaction, "maybe low key, no need to bother the corporate slugs."
This message was last edited by the GM at 10:23, Thu 17 Oct 2013.

Dani's eyebrow arched at the young man's last statement; it peaked out over the upper edge of her mirrorshades as the edges of her mouth quirked upwards for a brief moment.  Obviously, the boy was referring to those 'other corporate slugs'.  Which, of course, begged the question that raven-haired pilot felt compelled to then ask, "So, why us specifically then?  It must not have been our stellar reputations..."  It might pay to know exactly what Mario knew about them.

She let her last statement linger for a moment.  Then Danica prompted Mario to give more, stating easily and simply, "Obviously, we have a ship.  And the Gypsy Moth can carry plenty of 'somethings'."  The mirrorshades dart towards to the others, for a moment, then back to Mario and Dayani as she leaned forward to engage the two more directly, "But generally, we need to know more about those 'somethings'."  Her tone made it obvious that she was unlikely to let just anything on board the Gypsy Moth.  Her weight shifted slightly, allowing her to create a little noise with out having to say anything further for the moment.  If having an undisclosed and uninspected cargo hadn't worked for Blackfin's security man, Lafleur, it certainly wasn't going to work for someone even less known to them like this young man.

And, while she'd let Hayden deal with the contract particulars (if it came to that) given his much more vast experience in that realm, Dani was still going to ask certain questions, or at least expect to have certain answers ...

Jack slid into the booth, opposite Thera, nodding in agreement with Danica. "Indeed. And personally I would like to know why you felt it was necessary to photograph us so you could send lovely Dayani after us... rather than approach us yourself."

Doc just sat, watched and listened, ordering another duplicate of the local stuff he had sampled at the BBC.  He nodded in agreement with Dani's and Jack's questions.  Piping in to add, "Well, she is lovely...", before returning to his drink.

In reply to Danica Moreau (msg # 80):



"I was due for a break."  He lowers his voice to just above a whisper, "You're freeks* or most of you are, so you got no love for the Imps, right?"

He glances at Dayani, then back to you all.  She looks momentarily troubled by Mario's reference to Imperials, but quickly recovers.  In a more normal voice Mario continues, "Plus, if you're like most spacer crews I know, you got nothing against a few creds on the side."

"Just food, CO2 scrubbers, fusion heaters, and such.  Has to be quiet, though."

Doc's comment earns a suppressed smile from Dayani.

* Freek = slang derived from Free Republic of Espiaux Citizens.  May or may not be derogatory, depending on context.  Also slang for FRE currency.

Doc cocks an eyebrow, "No medicines?"

Leaning back with his drink, giving others room to address this shady sounding deal...

Thera frowned. "There's something you're not telling us, Mr Gazdik, and we don't like having our chain pulled. Why do we need to keep this quiet? All of those items are perfectly legal - so what isn't?"

Dani seemed nonplussed by the requirement for 'discretion' in the matter.  "Total tonnage and destination, please." she prompted curtly, even if her tone was a bit nonchalant.  There was no necessity to take the offer seriously.  Yet.  Nothing much had been ventured by the boy - as Thera had noted, nothing illegal.  Yet.  And besides, Mario wanted discreet; so, Danica gave him discreet.

She did suspect, however, that once the destination was sussed out that Thera's other question might be answered.

The raven-haired pilot of the Gypsy Moth merely crossed her legs in a casual manner as she leaned back in her chair briefly.  For all intents and purposes up to this point, it was just a casual conversation.  And Danica knew that if necessary, they could likely price Mario out of contention - charge more than it was worth and the deal would fall through.  Which she was pretty sure that Hayden was working on already - exactly what the right price for the job would be.  So, Dani didn't even bother to try that calculation herself.

In reply to Danica Moreau (msg # 86):



Mario seems relieved by Dani's inquiry, "Forty tons, plus a relief crew.  Me and three others.  Nothin' rock not more than a jump from here, won't take you more than a week off schedule."  Bitterly, he grumbles, "Not everyone wants to give over more'n a third.  Buried too many close to us for that."  He eyes Thera and takes a swig of his beer.

"..not more than a jump from here.."  Hayden said, repeating the words.

"So it's a one parsec trip then I take it?" the seasoned Merchant asked, wondering exactly how much information Mario had already gathered about the Gypsy Moth and her capabilities.

After the answer, Hayden followed up.

"And will this trip be into our out of Halowon Imperial space?"

With a shrug Jim replied, "We may be 'freeks' young man, but we're merchants after all..."

Jim looked to Hayden as he took another drink - him being the only 'real' merchant in the group, after all.

"Merchants take risks, but you seem to be implying people have died for this 'forty tons'. Sounds an awful bad risk for 'less'n a third'?  We're new here, perhaps you could elaborate on what those risks could be for us - and answer the lady's questions more direct like," Jim indicated Thera with his glass.

As the crew picked apart Mario's offer, Jack watched Dayani for her reactions.

Thera acknowledged Jim's glass tip with a nod.
"It sounds to me like Mr Gazdik is talking about tax evasion. Adding to the Halowon Empire's coffers is not high on our list of priorities, but staying out of trouble is, so Jim's right, I'd like to know a few more details about what and where before we get down to haggling a price."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:48, Sat 19 Oct 2013.

Jim tried to put on a serious face of considered countenance, in deference to their cover - as if he was familiar with taxes, duties, tariffs, and price haggling.  Things far outside his academic and practical experience - and concern.  (He's a doctor, damn-it!)

He couldn't, however, stop his eyes from wandering in Dayani's direction, though not particularly for the purposes of observing her, er, reactions...

"Are the four of you going for middle or low passage?" Danica prompted with a business-like tone.   High passage was out of the question if they were haggling.  And besides, the question was, of course, a probing feint like Hayden's query.  A means to find out more of what Mario knew of the Moth's capabilities and crew.

And with respect to their potential destination ... "And what off-loading facilities are we to expect on the other end?" she asked rather bluntly.  "As it does affect the price." the raven-haired pilot offered as a sort of explanation; forty tonnes of supplies doesn't just move itself - especially when it is in shipping containers.

His caginess could be warranted - not necessarily directed at them, of course - but, it didn't make their jobs any easier.  Plus, now Dani was starting to get a zealot vibe from Mr. Mario Gazdik; and that definitely wasn't making their job any easier either.

In reply to Dr. Jim D. Jones (msg # 92):



Mario grumbles ruefully at Hayden's question, "Can't get out of Imperial space in a single jump.  At least I can't."*

Dayani smiles knowingly, like she may have picked up on something Mario hasn't.

In response to Doc, he mutters, "Pulling ore at under a hundred Kelvin ain't exactly margaritas on the beach."  Dani and Thera, both having grown up on the frigid colony at St. Croix, know full well the hazards of outer system life.  He continues, "Like I said, food, life support supplies, a few spare parts and replacement equipment, and the relief crew.  That's it.  Enough to keep us going a few more months." He takes another pull on his beer as he mulls Doc's question bout risks, then offers, "Finding the site isn't easy, and landing's a little tricky, not much G.  Dayani's flown it before, if you need her she can come along.  Not much chance of any patrols, haven't seen any yet, but if we see one we run.  Can't run, we deal.  Can't deal, we give up."

Edited to add as Dani posted while I was writing:

For Dani's inquiries, he shrugs, "We're not picky.  Lower the better, just as long as you don't freeze us." At her second question he nods, "Unloading's a bitch, that's true.  Now what kind of price are you thinking?"

End edit.

* OOC: Pretty clear he means J-1 from this comment and that J-2 hasn't even crossed his mind.  Since only the Free Republic government and a handful of Ozawa Lines ships - and you of course :) - have J-2, most people outside the Free Republic may default to thinking in terms of J-1 as default.

The comment also pegs Mario as a Halowon citizen.  The Halowon Empire claims the Vauclain, Zeitlin, Jung, and Nestor systems (all within one parsec of Tupolev), though the other polities in the sector don't recognize the claims.  Vauclain system is patrolled by FRN, but Halowon hasn't officially dropped it's claim there.  The others are largely uninhabited and irregularly patrolled by multiple navies.

If Halowon authorities catch you re-supplying an unlicensed mining facility in territory they claim, they'll likely arrest you and impound the ship.  Most of Gypsy Moth's crew could count on the FRE embassy to make a diplomatic issue out of it and push for your release, but Nino, Dagala, (because of where they're from) and Mario and his people (because they're Halowon citizens) would be at the mercy of the Halowon judicial system.
This message was last edited by the GM at 07:30, Mon 21 Oct 2013.

The young man finally had Doc's full attention.

"Ah .. feel for your troubles, but I can see why others are commanding a steep price - what you're offering is a chance to get pinched by Imps and our ship taken.  We're a legit operation and we aim to be in business for a while - here and elsewheres. Troubles with authorities isn't much conducive to that."

Hayden's mind was already swirling with ideas on how you could do what was being asked, having skipped right over the why.  It was as if a giant game wheel in his brain were spinning, ideas and thoughts written on each slice.  Eventually the wheel slowed down and the large arrow at the top stopped on one idea in particular.  Fake a misjump!

This is really when I wish we had Dr. Hathorn on board, Hayden thought to himself.

"Doc's right.  We only deal in legitimate cargo going to legitimate ports.  That said, space travel is dangerous and you don't always end up where you want when you come out of jump space."

"Sounds to me like the destination is the real problem.  Suppose we were transporting this material and your crew to Ozawa.  Customs and taxes would not be a concern, correct?  This relief crew - do any of them have criminal records?  Do they have travel papers?" Marks asked.
This message was last edited by the player at 21:09, Tue 22 Oct 2013.

Dani leaned back in her chair, causing it to creak slightly.  "You know," she noted off-hand, nary a trace of irony there and presumably addressing Mario and Dayani, "not all 'Freeks' are agent provocateurs..."

She seemed to have taken umbrage at their implication that the Moth's crew and their nationality seemed to have doomed them to some sort of moral degeneracy.  Perhaps it was part of the 'Bad Cop' act.  Or perhaps Danica really didn't feel quite as sympathetic towards Mario and his plight.  It was hard to tell.  Then again, the couple at the table had been acting (potentially understandably - though some might say overly) cautious.

Lacing her hands over one of her knees, she glanced in Jack's direction when Hayden made the implication that a misjump might be involved in their next j-space transition.  The edges of her mouth quirking up slightly at the implication.

And then her look settled back on Hayden, when the topic of price came up again.  Given his past experience, the merchant captain would know the going rate the best out of all of them; Dani tacitly deferred to him on that type of thing.

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 96):

Mario nods, "All the paperwork'll be above board for going outta here.  The goods'll be called spec cargo."  He looks at Dayani, "We've always had work contracts for Perseus or  Oberon done up in the past, but Ozawa would work, right?"

Dayani nods thoughtfully, "Could, though it might get less scrutiny on the back end if it were for trailing."  She further notes, "Yeah, misjump is good, or some minor breakdown needing some time to repair."

Jim's frown deepened, and he shook his head, "Yeah, that's all well and good - less you get caught with your pants down unloading goods where you ain't supposed to be..."

"And 'running' with your ankles tangled up, er, is a good way to get hurt," he added, his face coloring a bit, before taking another drink.

Jack raised a subtle eyebrow to Danica when she glanced his way then shifted his gaze back to Mario. His face was impassive as Dayani spoke but he smiled easily as Doc expressed his concerns.

"No need to worry about getting caught with your pants down, Doc. These guys have done this before." He looked to Hayden, saying, "We could spoof a misjump fairly easily but only if we move quickly. If we have to give up transponder logs there isn't much of a way to hide what we did. But if we're in and out and off again, it may not be a problem. That's not to say I approve of the idea."*

He turned back to Mario. "So, there and back again, drop supplies and bring back the haul? Is there a gas giant near your nothing rock? Where would we drop you on the return run?"




*OOC: assumption here as I don't know how to spoof a misjump or if it's even possible ;) Ref, please let me know if this is incorrect in this TU.

Dani looked thoughtful for a moment.  Her mirrorshades passed from Mario to Dayani and back to Mario.  She pushed a drink off of one of the paper napkins and motioned for one of their potential contractors to give her a pen or stylus to write with.  The tall brunette didn't carry one herself - generally her dataglove sufficed and a writing implement was not necessary.

But, she had not desire to continue to discuss potential illicit activities in public.  Even, if the place was supposed to be safe according Dayani and Mario.  Nothing had really been said yet, beyond suppositions and possibilities.  But once destinations, details and particulars started to get bandied around, it behooved them to move to a more secure - or at least private venue.

She intended to push the pen and paper to Hayden for him to name a price.  To her mind, once the broad strokes were agreed upon, the details would follow.

Or the two prospectors cum claim-jumpers cum quasi-insurgents would have to trust them, to allow for some plausible deniability - on both sides.  But that required trust on both ends.  Trust that may or may not exist at this point.

"Presumably," Danica ventured in response to Jack's musing about the details of refueling and return destination, "it's a round trip."  They would need to get back here.  Though, perhaps they wanted to take a more circuitous route - she'd been wrong before.  So, it certainly wouldn't be the first or last time, likely.  And besides, at least publicly, agreeing to a round-trip made the most sense to her.

"Charter prices is what we'd charge because that's effectively what this is," Hayden said as the discussions moved further along.

"Two hundred and sixteen thousand, plus fuel and life support expenses.  Figure forty for two weeks of those." Marks said, looking carefully at Mario to see the reaction.

OOC: found 900 per ton cargo and 9,000 per stateroom rates in the Traveller Book.  Didn't see anything in MGT Core, but didn't look that hard (just did a find for Charter).  Of course the assumption is that the ship is charted for a two week period - there and back again.

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 102):



Mario stops in mid-beer lift and gives a low whistle, "Man, you are some pricey bastards."  He takes a pull of his beer.

Dayani leans over to Mario.  Cupping her hand to his ear, she whispers for several seconds.

Mario nods to her and shrugs slightly.  Looking at Hayden, he proposes, "What if you didn't come back here?  If you go to our rock, then to your next port, you could still carry some other cargo too, so we wouldn't be renting the whole ship."

Dayani adds, "It wouldn't look as odd too."

Mario agrees, "Yeah."   He licks his lips and tries experimentally, "One hundred a fifty thousand for a run like that."

Jack chuckled lightly but not dismissively. "One way trip then?" He took a drink and set his glass down carefully. "Not much in the way of 'next ports' out here. Pretty much any direction we head in leads to low-end ports with very little market opportunity. Taking a two week side trip at a reduced rate wouldn't really help that situation. And regarding the rate, it's been my experience you get what you pay for - not just travel and transport, but discrete travel and transport."

In reply to Jacques Keveloh (msg # 104):



Mario's shoulders dip slightly, "Alright.  Two fifty six thou to take four workers and forty tons to the site, then take the four workers on site now back to civilization, deal?"

Danica fingered her glass nonchalantly, while scanning the crowd idly.  "A change of personnel wouldn't happen with a misjump." the raven-haired pilot noted to no one in particular.  Cargo could be dumped for a variety of reasons, on the other hand.  They would have to fabricate a different cover story for any authorities in that case.

She didn't seem particularly interested in the conversation, though that may have been more of an affectation given the reasonably public venue.

Dani glanced at Hayden for a moment, wondering just what the experienced space dog was trying to calculate in his head.  It probably had more to do with whether Mario and Dayani were worth the trouble (and subsequently the trouble they presumably would cause the Empire), more than anything to do with the money.  But then her gaze returned to crowd, to try and make sure that there weren't any surreptitious eavesdroppers.

"Two hundred and fifty six thousand and we drop your men off on our way out of Halowon space," Hayden said, offering his hand.  He tried softened the blow by adding, "And since we hate leaving any port with an empty hold, I'll hope you'll consider letting us negotiate for ore once we offload your supplies,"  Depending on what Mario and his team had mined, the belter might end up with some or all of his 256,000 ICr back.

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 107):



Mario gives a small, definitive nod.  Taking Hayden's proferred hand, he says, "That'll do.  I'll contact you at the port to give the names of my people for the manifest and arrange loading."

Unless one of the PCs has something else to discuss with Mario, he tosses some credits on the table (TL-7, cash is still normal here) and he and Dayani depart.

OOC: I'll dice up spec cargo proceeds and some spec cargo and freight for possible next legs in the next day or so.  I'll also post thumbnails for Perseus and Wellesley systems so you guys can pick a route for after dropping the supplies.  I think there was some previous discussion about Wellesley-1619-Antioch, but I don't remember if that was firmly decided or not.

Please let me know if there's anything you want to do on Tupolev prior to lading cargo/miners.

After Mario and Dayani left Jack smiled at Hayden. "Well played, Captain." He ordered another round for the crew and pulled out his hand comp.

He sifted through what local map data was available, keeping the display text-based and his hands close to the screen to defeat any prying eyes. "Presumably they're headed core/trailing, which would help us in terms of time. Wellesley is week in n-space going in and coming out so I'd suggest Perseus as our second stop. Besides, I'm sure those miners would rather hit a garden world than some luddite rock a week into its jump shadow. And from there we'd be two jumps out..."

To Dani he said, "You're right regarding the misjump but it seems that would be as good a story as the next. In case we do get questioned, I could work on the astrogation logs but I might need Nino to help with the engineering data. We'd need to be sure he's okay with that. And make sure we get everyone else on the same page and that they're okay with it as well."

"Thanks, but I think you are the one that set the hook.  All I had to do was reel him in," Hayden said to Jack, raising a toast.

"Perseus sounds good to me.  If the destination leaves a bad taste in the belter’s mouths, so be it*.  Given what they have asked of us, they are not in position to leave a bad review of our services.”

”For the misjump deception, we just need to have one forged manifest for the outgoing crew.  If we get intercepted on the way to the mining site, we present the the true manifest with the incomming crew listed.  If we get checked on one the way out, we present the forged one.  As long as we don’t spend too much time at the site, it is unlikely that a patrol ship would have received a copy of the manifest through other channels, since we’ll be moving at the speed of jump.”

On a multi-jump trip, a fast courier could conceivably beat the Gypsy Moth to a system and disseminate a copy of recently filed flight plans and manifests to patrolling Naval vessels.   But since they would be jumping directly to the target system, the odds that a copy of the Moth’s manifest would be available to an intercepting vessel were very low.  With nothing to compare it to, the outbound trip manifest would have to stand on its own – meaning their success would be determined by how skilled the forgery was.  Any inspecting vessel wouldn’t have a true copy on-hand to check their version against.

*It would be a sulfuric taste I believe..
This message was last edited by the player at 14:49, Mon 11 Aug 2014.

"I suppose forging a few manifests would be infinitely easier than spoofing astrogation and engineering data... Before we load in I'm going to pick up a nice bottle of Alsacian wine, something a cutter's lieutenant or SDB captain would enjoy but can't afford. Might help things along if the opportunity presents itself."

Danica gave Mario and Dayani a simple, if distant, smile and a wave.  She leaned in towards the table and the others as they talked a little more shop as part of the debrief.  Her shades continued to watch the crowd more than her friends, as a matter of habit.

"Shell game." the raven-haired pilot indicated with respect to the manifest and the talk, "keeping to the truth for even part of the trip may not serve us that well; no one will really benefit from revealing our intermediate destination."  She gave a slight shrug though, not strong attached to either of the options.  One, two or three forged manifests for the various legs made little difference; and it never hurt to be prepared.

"Good thinking., Jacques" Dani noted to the Moth's astrogator (and resident oenophile), "Make sure we have a couple of bottles, I would say."  Some liquid goodwill could probably serve as excellent lubricant in a number of potentially sticky situations that they might find themselves in.  Once again, it never hurt to be prepared.

Thera likewise kept an eye on the locals. "And there's always an alternative to booze - as a last resort."

"Good wine sounds like a plan.  It's hard to have too much of it on hand. " Hayden said.  He forked over 1,000 credits for the expense, knowing that if one bottle was good, ten would be better.

"We should figure out if we need anything to forge the manifests also and obtain it as well.  I'll start looking through the local reference material to see what our best option is on Perseus." Hayden added as he polished off his drink.

OOC: If there is time before working on cargo and taking on the belters, Hayden will look to see which state on Perseus has the least information sharing with the Halowon Empire. 

In reply to Hayden Marks (msg # 114):

Ten bottles of Alsatian wine, red or white? (I kid, I kid).  No problem.

Qorom is either well-kown or notorious (depending on who you ask) for being an "offshore" finance center.  Most financial transactions can be hidden by routing through a shell company or two in Qorom.  Also, Qorom has virtually non-existent corporate taxes.  About a third of the starships in the sector, including Gypsy Moth, are registered on Qorom to limit corporate liability, obscure true ownership (as Qorom allows bearer share companies) and avoid taxes.

Memij is less well-known, but the restrictive economic sovereignty laws in Memij can be used to your advantage as well.  The only drawback to Memij is the requirement to have a Memij business partner.  It is not unknown for offworlders to hire a local attorney, for example, as a "business partner" for faux transactions and to use Memij's opaque banking laws (which include numbered accounts) to park funds.

Does this help?