Pablo, not so dumb as some might think, tracks down a starport employee, and asks how to get access to the local grid.

"I can go out and hook up the umbilical's -- I wasn't always an officer, y'know. I used to work for a living! Hurr-hurr." Vonon offers, "But somebody should sit at the tactical board. With this planet being a Class-Two legal system, it's a pretty good bet that we're expected to take care of ourselves, for the most part. And, um, it seems that instead of running a diagnostic, I've actually -- somehow -- managed to get the ship to Yellow Alert without setting off any alarms. Weird, that."

Pablo finds an off-duty starport worker who is still wearing his starport uniform, who gladly explains to the 'poor dumb tourist' how to use a hardpoint to gain access to the info-web... and runs into the same problem. Pablo's ID is not being recognized... or accepted... he's not sure which. Since he's never even heard of such a problem before, he can only direct Pablo to the starport office to get the problem taken care of.

As he walks away, he casts a suspicious glance at Pablo, clearly wondering if Pablo is some sort of criminal.


Vonon exits the ship and has to look around for umbilical. It's normally hidden behind an access panel so that a landing ship doesn't actually hit it due to the incompetence of the pilot.

However, when he opens the clearly-labeled (albeit faded and grime-covered) Umbilical panel, he finds the said device in a serious state of disrepair. His first reaction is that it probably won't work at all, but a bit closer inspection shows most of the 'damage' is grime and some chewed wires. Fortunately, he also realizes that though the ship is bass-ackward from where connecting the umbilical would be easy, the umbilical was designed to reach to any area of the ship.

Thanking the employee, Pablo heads for the starport office, musing to himself that the man could be right. After all, he *was* a sort of criminal, and had several years of prison to prove it.

But he did head to the starport office, intent on finding out what was going on with the ID problem.

Having waved farewell to Walter for the time being and exchanged commlink information, Sharik smirked lightly as she tagged along behind Pablo.  She shook her head lightly, causing her auburn ponytail to dance and bob, when the starport worker gave the pair his sidelong glance.

But, she remained conspicuously silent.  It wouldn't do to cause a commotion; at this point, Shar didn't really know how much trouble they were already in.  The diminutive ex-operative didn't like being disconnected.  Especially when she knew that they shouldn't be.  Her mirrorshades had been pushed up onto the crown of her head as the displays were limited due to the lack of connectivity; they still streamed plenty of data, but it was all simply proximity-based (and fairly numerous, since Sharik did have her personal plethora of electronics on her person).

As she walked along side Pablo, Sharik couldn't help but muse, "Not auspicious for a start.  I wonder what all the paranoia is about...."  Of course, it was a touch hypocritical.  It wasn't as though she wasn't packing her stunner under her jacket in a shoulder holster; all rage on a high-tech planet with minimal weapons laws.

Almost surprisingly, the starport office is not at the center of the starport but out in the second ring. Convenient directories at nearly almost every intersection show you how to get to it.

When you reach the location, you realize that this is the civilian end of the starport. It's not very large; there appear to be only 3 people working there, but they are rather busy on the computers and comms. Going into the office, one of the workers asks Pablo what she can do for him. When he explains the problem, she thinks it's an easy fix, but quickly finds the same problem the station worker had. She, however, has a few more options available to her, but they also turn out to be ineffective.

She finally admits defeat and has to refer Pablo and Sharik to the station manager, Sylvester Vance.

"Well, now, what seems to be the problem? Don't know why Pinky couldn't do this... Oh. Yes. Well. You've been blocked. From up top. No reason given. Well, it says 'pending', which is the catch-all for when the blocker doesn't want to give the real reason. In this case, the block was put on it by the Grand Poobah herself, Kenzi Muran."

"You'll have to take the problem up with her."

In reply to StarMaster (msg # 66):

Vonon gives the little sub-vocal growl that activates his comm-dot interface to his personal comm.

"Vonon To Sam. Hey, Sam, I could use a little help out here. Would you activate the repair drones Diefenbaker and Buck -- uh, I think they were numbers three and five -- and instruct them to report to me, out here?"

By now Khea also noticed the Comm problems when she wanted to tell the others to finally come and that this is not an abandoned spaceport full of alien monsters.

She takes a quick look at the prices of some of the stores near the center to determine how much "tourist tax" is applied and then hurries back to the ship, one hand on the comm unit to finally reach someone there and the other hand always close to her gun that no lowlife even gets the idea to try to stop her.

  "Do you need help out there?" Kaengarr called over the comms as he emerged from his quarters and turned toward the bridge, once again bedecked in his body armor and a stunner sheathed at his hip; that ensemble had been conspicuously absent during the trip, but caution and the legally carefree nature of the starport merited its return.

  "I can't restock the larder like this, and that won't do!" he added lightheartedly.
This message was last edited by the player at 23:23, Sat 07 May 2016.

Darrel has been following Pablo's efforts, figuring Pablo's method and karma would be successful. And when it didn't seem work, Count Cromwell decided to approach the highest level person he sees(as recognized, looking for senior administration) or an office....

"It seems my escort isn't here, let the Imperial authorities know I have arrived."

"Just need the drones to do the dirty grunt work." Vonon responds over the comm-channel, "But a second drone supervisor can only make the job go faster, so come on out."

  Kaengarr wound his way to the bottom deck and out the rear hatch to join Vonon, and as he did so he double-checked the security of their personal comms.

  "Were we put here on purpose? If the ship had off-label uses and someone knows about it..." he muttered under his breath with just enough volume there for Vonon to made it out now that they were standing together. "Doesn't have to mean hostile, either. Could be they think it still does."
This message was last edited by the player at 08:12, Tue 10 May 2016.

Sharik smiled sweetly as the woman, Pinky, and her manager both tried their best to help them troubleshoot their ID issue.  "That's strange." the diminutive dilettante agreed amiably and rather coyly as the administrative duo determined that the group had had their access deliberately blocked.  "Who would that type of authority here?" she prompted idly, the question was almost rhetorical ... or at least directed at Pablo as much as the other two individuals in the room.

The hairs on the back of her neck had been standing up for a while now.  Too many things were conspiring against them to be a true coincidence.  As Pinky and Sylvester conferred between themselves, Shar leaned in to whisper in Pablo's ear for the moment, "Ry, we aren't alone."  Surveillance in a high-tech world wasn't always sophisticated, but generally it did seem ever-present.  Whether they were being physically followed, which she honestly wasn't certain of.  Or whether they were simply being monitored - which their limited access to the net seemed to indicate at the bare minimum - remained to be seen.

Either way, Sharik didn't like it much...

---

OOC:  Just in case it is necessary to either make her hints subtle enough ... or to detect something more concrete, here goes nothing:

  00:32, Today: Sharik Kaagira rolled 12 using 2d6+4 with rolls of 5,3.  Deception/Soc Check: Hints? (+3 Skill, +1 Soc).
  00:33, Today: Sharik Kaagira rolled 11 using 2d6+4 with rolls of 1,6.  Recon/Int Check: Counter Surveillance? (+1 Recon, +2 Int, +1 Program) - as necessary/possible.

Not sure what we can find, but hopefully it is something...]

Sam activated a couple of drones in response to Vonun.

Swivelling her chair round to face Gregory she said "Define problem. But probably." She smiled and turned back to the screen, and added "I'm not sure theres much we can do, but we've lost comms with teh others. Might be an idea if you head out and report in every few seconds, so we can work out how far out comms extend? Unless youve got other plans."

ooc
Does Sam nee to do something to get the Drones to act, or are they semi smart? Because she doesn't have Remote OPerations.

At the Starport office, the 'highest ranking' person Darrel can find is the Starport Manager, Sylvester Vance.

"Yes, sir, your Countship," he replies, clearly unused to dealing with nobility.

"Um, which Imperial Authorities are you referring to? The Imperial Embassy or the Military Starbase?"

As he talks, his fingers dance over the computer console.

"Yessir, that information was on your transponder acknowledgment. All authorities should have been notified automatically. I have no way of knowing if they actually were, of course..."


"I can check that, sir," Pinky offers, "by tracing the IP address back to the automatic routing hub. Hmmm. As I expected, we definitely were not notified. Oh, my. Yes, the auto-rout was blocked before ever getting transmitted. Same source: the Grand Poobah herself."

"So she at least knows you are here, Count Cromwell."


While Sharik is waiting for the issue to be resolved, she is able to identify someone that may have been following them. She uses the standard tactic of using a reflective surface to discretely look behind her.

The person in question is a merc... former merc might be more accurate. He's dressed as a civilian, but his stance and manners and the look on his face fairly screams merc training to Sharik. He's at a shop across the hall, tapping on a wristcomp as he keeps a surrepititious watch on the group. Sharik can't really say if he's watching her, Pablo or the Count.

Her own glance in a reflection seems to have escaped his notice.


Sam has no problem activating the repair drones. They are designed to function in the midst of battle, so generally only require pushing a button for each drone you want activated. They take voice commands, so once they drop out of the bottom of the ship, Vonon and Kaengarr can direct them.

"Mr. Vance and Ms. Pinky, I know it´s not your fault, this clear and gross violation of protocol which should be made public...this is an outrage. However, my intention here is simple and I´m going to avoid any administrative complications. Specifically criminal charges against functionaries, in fact, I´d be interested in pardoning/hiring those that are truthful and honest.
Links his comm unit,

"In this order, I request you do the following....

I want secure and full comms between these accounts and access to planetary data.

Then, you will notify my arrival to the Imperial Embassy and the Imperial Military Starbase....

You will send a formal invitation to the Grand Poobah herself, Kenzi Muran...The gala event, to be held in 24 hours, The reasons why the Imperium allows client states.

With a follow-up invitation to the authorities."

Realizing alot of that could be overwhelming, Count Cromwell wants to impress upon them the serious nature of what he was saying...Even bypassing any obstacles the system might present, the Poobab is temporary, the Imperium isn´t.

Today: Darrel Cromwell rolled 15 using 2d6+7 with rolls of 4,4.  persuade the folks to do the right thing.
This message was last edited by the player at 03:50, Wed 11 May 2016.

In reply to Darrel Cromwell (msg # 76):

"If this is some kind of intentional isolation, it's a damn sloppy one." Vonon responds to Kaengarr, "I mean, where's the follow-up? We're not locked in, there are no guards or thugs to greet us. Nah, it must just be some kind of snafu."

Vonon sees the drones drop down from their internal pods, and calls out to them.

"Diefenbaker! Buck! Over here!" Vonon calls, and the vaguely crab-shaped drones - each the size of a small trash bin - waddle over.

"Diefenbaker, grab this waste removal umbilical and follow me. Kaengarr, why don't you have Buck grab the power coupling, over there, and have him plug us into the port grid. Then we'll -- No, Diefenbaker! Not that umbilical; get the 200-millimeter hose! You've got the 20-millimeter comm-cable! Put that back! We haven't paid for that, yet."

"Uh... ummm, we can sent a message to the Embassy and Base... we can do that, can't we, Pinky? Yes, I'm sure we can," Vance replies to the count.

"I... uh, can't give your comms access to the grid. It was blocked by a higher authority than me. I don't have the ability to over-ride the block."

"But we can give you another comm unit. Pinky, give him yours."

"Gala event... 24 hours... that's the middle of the morning... like now. And where is this event being held? Who else should I be sending this invitation to? So far, that would only be 6 people."



Back at the ship, two men dressed in uniforms enter the landing bay, and walk up to Kaengarr.

"We're customs inspectors," one of them announces, displaying his badge. "We... umm, got a tip that you... um, might be carrying contraband, so we have orders to search your ship."

Pablo listened to the conversation, and then looked at the manager. "Excuse me, sir. Where might I find this Grand Poobah person?"

"Grand Poobah Kenzi Muran's office is in the Third Ring, Quadrant Four. That's also her residence," Vance replies to Pablo.

Shortly after the "inspectors" entered the hangar Khea also arrived, somehow having missed the party which went to the station office.

Not noticing the new faces at first she shouts right when she entered the hangar "The good news is that this starport is actually in use, but our coms are not working. What drove you to land here at this Ruktaha with the Count on board?"

Pablo thanked Vance for the information, then stepped out, moved down to an electronics shop, and buys a new comm, and sees if they have the equivalent of a prepaid minutes card available. In any case, he then follows Vance's directions to the Grand Poobah's office.

He was much more curious than concerned, but clearly the lady either wanted something, or was randomly deciding to mess about arriving spacefarers. Pablo lacked social standing, some might even disparage his intelligence, but he was able to figure out that the best way to find out what some stranger wants is to ask them.

You can always shoot them and blow up their stuff later.

  No sooner had Kaengarr begun to coordinate the effort with the second repair droid than the follow-up decided to put in an appearance, albeit in the form of customs inspectors rather than leg breakers. He kept eye on the pair as they approached and halted the droid once the two began to speak; their attention demanded his and he didn't want any accidents happening in the meantime. Then Khea reappeared. Her timing couldn't have been better. Kaengarr waved her over as he spoke, in his case at normal volume.

  "That's why we were shunted off to a distant corner, hnnh? Understandable, though the Imperial nobles with us might not see it that way," Kaengarr chuckled ruefully, pulling out his comm and calling up their cargo manifest. He proceeded to read out the relevant information and provided the other typical details related to clearance and customs, maintaining a relaxedly profession demeanor throughout; he'd dealt with this sort of thing time and again at various starports and had prepared accordingly well before landing.

  That would be the first step. The second, of course, would involve them poking about inside the ship, and though they came across as more reluctant than anything, Kaengarr knew better than to have strangers wandering around the ship unsupervised, especially in a place like this and under conditions like these. He wasn't rude enough to say so to their faces, of course, between himself and Khea neither would go unsupervised, thereby ensuring that nothing disappeared and that nothing was left behind. Particularly the latter.
This message was last edited by the player at 01:43, Fri 13 May 2016.

"That would have been Samantha!" Vonon shouts back at Khea, as he steps out from the shadows under the ship (he was dressed in a black shipsuit, remember) "Sam drove us here, Khea, remember? Hurr-hurr-hurr."

Vonon then 'notices' the Customs men talking with Kaengarr

"Finally!" he grumbles to the universe at large, and walks over to stand behind Kaengarr - acting the dutiful junior Crewman.

<quote StarMaster>
"Uh... ummm, we can sent a message to the Embassy and Base... we can do that, can't we, Pinky? Yes, I'm sure we can," Vance replies to the count.

"I... uh, can't give your comms access to the grid. It was blocked by a higher authority than me. I don't have the ability to over-ride the block."

"But we can give you another comm unit. Pinky, give him yours."

"Gala event... 24 hours... that's the middle of the morning... like now. And where is this event being held? Who else should I be sending this invitation to? So far, that would only be 6 people."

Seeing that Pablo had directions, and his personal indignation was somewhat salved, the Count says,"Well, never mind...I'll discuss the matter personally with her...but, please inform the Embassy personnel that I have arrived and will be meeting with the Grand Poobah."