In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 50):

"Old Flame?" Vonon calls after Sam, as she leaves the Bridge, "I wish!"

As everyone is darting out of the ship as soon as it docker Khea was left alone on the Long Shot.
Not having any immediate plans she made sure that everything was locked down tight and then also left, first to find the largest space available on this asteroid outpost to relax, it won't come close to a real open sky but it certainly won't be as cramped as the ship, and then check out the shipyard to see what work they do there.

Sam took about 10 mins in the fresher, and went back to her room for a bit before coming back on the bridge to find V. She was still dressed in her normal fashion, though the clothes had obviously been changed to cleaner versions as well.

"So, gonna buy a girl a drink, V?"

ooc
How standard is this TU? I mean if I look up codes for this rock online can we rel y on them?

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 53):

OOC: Pssst!  Sam, goto TAS Too

Khea soon realized that Pablo and Evelyn were still on the ship, covering the station shift just on general principles and for an added layer of security.


At Cornelli's, Indy arrives first and sits in the reserved booth. The place isn't particularly busy, but then it's an odd time of day. Ships arrive at all hours, and nearly everyone operates on his own time schedule.

((OOC: The standard Traveller stats are mostly what I go by. It's the smaller details that I get to play with.))

Of those going ashore, Valeska was probably the last to leave. She'd been doing some research online about what was interesting, unique or dangerous about Cassandra Belt, as all of those things represented opportunities. What kind of opportunities she couldn't quite say, but she'd know one when she saw it.

She didn't see anything wrong with all the crew going about their own business; after all, they'd just spent a week all crammed together in the ship. Yeah, it was a rather large ship in that sense, but it was the principle of the thing. Sometimes, you just needed to see a new face.

That was what she was doing. She just wanted to get a sense of humanity... whatever the species. She'd been to a Vargr world once. Wasn't much humanity there. Ha. It meant other things these days.

She didn't know where she was going, so she couldn't let anyone know, but she had her comm with her.

Once out amid the hustle and bustle of the starport, she decided to go to one of the bars she'd found online--Cosmos.

It was a short walk as it catered to spacers. Or did it cater to spacers because it was a short walk? Whatever.

She walked in, took a seat at the bar and ordered a mojito.

In reply to Valeska Brandenberg (msg # 56):

OOC:  Okay, okay, okay...Vonon has dragged his feet enough, already...


   In his quarters, Vonon has finished dressing, and is looking at himself in the cabin's viewscreen--but he's barely noticing how well his pale lavender shirt is complementing the candy-apple red trousers he's wearing over his shiny black space-boots.  His mind is on the task he must perform next.

   Resolving himself to just do it, Vonon straightens the set of his shirt, then addresses the mirrored viewscreen,

   "Computer.  Access local communications network.  Establish connection with civilian commset Alpha-Zed-Gamma-Two-Two-Six-four-One-Nine-Four.  Caller ID is Vonon Ronkunu.  Switch the connection to this terminal."

   A moment later the reflection in the mirror is replaced by a full screen image of the logo for the local Directorate of Communications and the words 'Placing call...Please wait', accompanied by a pleasant electronic ringing tone.  After about ten seconds there is a clicking sound, and the Directorate logo changes to a gray screen with the word 'Connected' in the center.

   [COMS>>>] "Ha-ha, very funny.  Now tell me your real name--this isn't a Pack you want to screw with!" demanded a voice with the same 'growly' quality as Vonon's own, yet still having a feminine quality.

   "No joke, it's me, Zelthae." Vonon responded, "I'm here on Rockhome and wanted to inform Mother."

   The gray screen disappeared and was replaced with the image of a young adult female Vargr with light brown fur, a stripe of golden fur starting abouve her left eye and proceeding up and over her head, with another swath of golden fur under her right eye.  She was wearing a gold-colored pull-over that left her light brown fur-covered shoulders exposed.

   [COMS>>>] "Well Space Me!  Vo, is that you?" the younger Vargr asked, an expression of incredulity on her face, "Wow, you look old--how come you look so old?  It's only been eighteen months!  You have a Jump Mishap or something?  Wow, you look--"

   "Enough, Zelthae, please.  Just inform Mother that I am on Rockhome for a short while, and that I called, so that nobody else would surprise her with the data.  Thank you." Vonon said, and reached for a nearby wall-mounted command console.

   "What!?  No--Wait!  Vo!" Zelthae said, as Vonon manually cut the connection.

   Turning, Vonon grabbed his belt from off his bed, only his comm and his sheathed blade hanging from it--the blade, having been made here at Rockport, was exactly one centimeter short of being illegal--and strapped it on.  Then he grabbed his old black Patrol uniform jacket and cap (both sans any Patrol markings), and headed out to meet Samantha.

Sam was waiting for V in the rec area. As he came down the hall she gave a low whistle.

"Looking hot V, are you sure you don't have a date?" she laughed and stood up.

"I don't recall ever having been to this place before, wheres all the fun at?"

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 58):

   Vonon shrugs into his black jacket, "It's a waypoint for the Imperial Navy on their way to Outpost." Vonon responded.

   "The place used to be run by Drakaar Minerals, but they ran the place like a slave camp--mistreated the workers, provided substandard everything.  The miners eventually revolted and gained independence.  The Imperium thought that was a pretty good idea, so when Drakaar Minerals came back with more force to take the place with, a couple of Imperial Frontier Fleet Cruisers happened to be here, refueling."

   "The Imperials wanted to know what Drakaar was doing here with all that firepower, Drakaar said that this was their system and they were here to take it back from criminal elements.  The Council of Ten denied any criminal activity, then declared our independence."

   "The Drakaar Force Commander refused to acknowledge the declaration and demanded the immediate surrender of Rockport.  The Imperial Commander said that that wasn't going to happen.  Drakaar then said the Imperials were out of their jurisdiction, and the Imperial Commander invited the Drakaar Commander to bring his ships just a little closer and they could test that theory together."

   Vonon smiles, "You have to love those Imperial Frontier Fleet Captains.  So, since then we've been an Independent System, but that's mostly just pride and Treaty shenanigans.  We realize our need for a close relationship with the Imperium, and when all the dickering is over and Outpost gets declared an Imperial Colony, Cassandra will probably follow suit."

  "But until then we provide a waystation into the central Deep for the Imperial Navy--an excellent starport facility and supply base--and the Imperium keeps us supplied with advanced technology and materials.  It's a nice, symbiotic relationship.  And unless the Principality of Caledon ever officially joins the Imperium, we'll always be needed, here."

   "So what I'm saying is--Rockport is up to Imperial standards!  If you're used to having it back home, we likely have it here.  So name your pleasure!  Shows or sims, we got 'em--though probably a year behind what you're used to.  Or booze--our bars line up with anything in the Imperium.  Libraries or Auto-Instructors--heck, we're a community of independent, usually family-oriented mining operations, we're up to our necks with home-based Auto-Instructors."

   "And, ur, I hope I don't need to remind you that, while outwardly looking rather tame--" Vonon places his hand on his chest in humility, "--thanks in no small part to an efficient law enforcement service--we are still a bunch of rockhoppers, here.  We have, ur, fully legal and *ahem* medically certified Companion Services, should you feel the need."

   "The only thing I can't recommend is pharmaceutical abuse.  Oh, we have some of the more tame recreational stuff, sure, but the hard shit is extremely illegal.  Like zero tolerance.  We come down hard on that, here.  As in, blow the airlock out to vacuum and then produce the warrant, intolerant."

Taking Vonuns arm, Sam starts walking towards the airlock.

"Thats a pretty full run down, you must have got around a bit as a youngster. I'm ex-Space Patrol, so we'll keep within the law - at first at least. But a drink would be good. So take me to the booze, sir!"

Inderpal took a seat that was facing the door so that she could see Sharik when she arrived. She took a look at the menu and thought about what she might order; there was a broad selection of human and non-human food available, but it was all reliable stuff. Nothing too esoteric or 'risky'; she really wasn't into super spicy stuff, partly because of the large quantity of water you needed after the fact.

She asked for a bottle of mineral water for the table and the bread basket to start off with.

Walter arrived at the TAS hotel and checked in, his first (semi) vacation since leaving Grendal. Once settled in, he took care of making connections in order to unload the cargo.  Word traveled fast through the star port at Cassandra he was there as merchants tried to make themselves scarce. Deals were hard to find.


Ugh, market is saturated. Sell at 95% for the Luxury Consumables and Advanced Manufactured Goods. 100% for the basic consumables. Will have to look up the filters as i do not remember what they fell under and I need to locate Book 5.
10:50, Today: Walter Zeller rolled 9 using 2d6+5 with rolls of 2,2.  sell cargo.
10:49, Today: Walter Zeller rolled 8 using 2d6+5 with rolls of 1,2.  Finding a buyer.

Any plans Khea had about her visit to the station gradually vanish as soon as she enters the station.
Sure, she visits the dockyard, but it is not as if the berths are open to the public so there isn't really anything to see there. She does look at display about the work being done there, but does not really pay attention.

Instead she sets of to simply walk. After weeks of being confined to a small ship she just needs to stretch her legs, even if it is just on a station and not an actual planet. One good thing about humaniti station was that one could go where you want without constantly watching where clans set up their borders.

Soon though Kheas stomach started to grumble and she remembered one downside of humaniti stations. That it was nearly impossible to find good food there. Everywhere they insisted to put vegetables into it, and once you picked them all out there was hardly anything left to eat.

Walther has invited everyone to the TAS hotel for dinner. That won't happen for several days, maybe even weeks, but it would be a good place as any to start looking for actually edible food on this station and she had to get a room there anyway, so that was Kheas next destination.

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 60):
[ON THE WAY TO THE AIRLOCK]

    Vonon stops suddenly at Sam's mention of being ex-Space Patrol.

    "Dammit, that's right.  I'd forgotten..." Vonon mumbles, then sidetracks to one of the suit lockers near the airlock--where he removes the Blade and it's sheath from his belt and places them in the locker.

    "Pressurized environment, all personal weapons are illegal here." Vonon explains, returning to Sam's side, "Ownership of bladed weapons is allowed, but carrying any weapon inside pressurized zones is illegal.  Patrolmen on duty carry a variety of weapons, and off-duty Patrolmen are allowed to openly carry short-bladed weapons--like that one." Vonon nods toward the locker where he put his Blade.

    "I forgot, and put it on from force of habit.  If you're carrying--don't tell me." Vonon grins as they exit through the airlock.

    Once outside the airlock, Vonon pauses and takes a breath--inhaling deeply through his Vargr nose.  While Sam can smell over-recycled air and the light miasma of numerous bodies and machines all active in one place, with an overlay of the cuisines of five separate cultures, Vonon smells so much more.  He smells Home.

    "There's this place just down the other side of the docking area--" Vonon says, pulling his black service cap down low and then pulling up his jacket collar,

    "I probably shouldn't go there, there's too big a chance of finding trouble--but it's really the best workers bar on the station." Vonon says, pointing off to the right, "Everyone calls it 'The Filthy Cur', but the official name is 'Drakaar Central Security'."  Vonon shrugs his shoulders, as he starts walking down the port area, "It a local in-joke."

Serge's head appeared from the nearest door:
- Are stunners prohibited too?

Sharik trotted down the loading ramp for the Longshot as she acknowledged Walter’s invitiation with a simple text.  She, of course, was also a member of TAS; so, the diminutive socialite could check in at any time.  But she’d be hard pressed to turn down any social engagement; they were just too much fun.  Once, her connection to the station’s public communications link was established, Shar accessed a schematic of the station, marking the target restaurant as well as the TAS hostel on her copy of the map.  She then sent a spur of her agent spiraling outwards to mark any shopping areas of interest as well as any landmarks and reasonable routes and distances for later.

Checking her chronometer, the auburn-haired astrogator made sure that she wasn’t fashionably late, letting her integrated HUD prompt her for the optimal route to Cornelli’s via the Lavendar Inn.  Out of idle curiosity, Sharik also had her personal agent mark the locations too various diplomatic consulates, since she was meeting with Indy after all.  She pushed the pace slightly, when the five minute reminder sounded and she appeared to be seven minutes out.

Arriving at the restaurant slightly out of breath (but actually just on time), Sharik scanned the crowd for a familiar face.  Approaching the hostess after taking a moment to center herselfm, she waited to be seated even though the ex-corporate operative had already spotted her party in her peripheral vision.  Stopping one of the waitstaff briefly on the way to the table, Sharik made sure that grapefruit mimosas and a set of light canapés were en route.

Smiling as she approached, Sharik leaned over to give Inderpal a simple (i.e. only one kiss per cheek) faire la bise in greeting.  The cosmopolitan socialite held the young diplomat at arms’ length while giving her an appraising look.  Then pushing into the booth, she pulled the linen napkin on to her lap.  “Ms. Kumar, you are looking well.  And it is so good to see you.” she pronounced cheerily, grabbing the menu, “Tell me, what looks good?”. She had her own ideas as she perused - though on this rock, Shar had her doubts about what passed for seafood around here.

In reply to Serge Baklanov (msg # 65):

[LEAVING THE LONGSHOT]

"Ruh?  Oh, Serge.  Well, technically, the answer is yes." Vonon responded to the Scout, "If you walk around carrying a 'holstered weapon' at your hip, you will attract attention to yourself--both from Patrolmen who want to know what kind of idiot you are for carrying it, as well as from rough-types looking to take it from you."

"As with any personal weapon, if you conceal it really well, then it's not illegal unless you get caught using it, right?  And if it's really a stunner, and it doesn't cause any damage to anyone or the immediate area where you use it, you'll probably just get hauled in front of a Magistrate, charged, fined, and then let go with a warning--though they'll likely impound your weapon."

"What trouble would you find V? In the bar? Because I'll be honest I wanna unwind, not get involved in a bar brawl."

Serge made little account of proper dress for every possible occurrence, so he just left the ship being in his usual Scout uniform.
Before the dinner, though, he whisked here and there in-between on the way to the hotel, marking something in his data pad.
Serge was on time for the dinner.

Inderpal smiled and reached for her own napkin, placing it decorously on her lap.

"The chicken tikka masala looks very good. I've had it in the past. That said I'm going for the... cod and chips".

Inderpal saw the waiter and got his attention.

"What do you want to drink? Also, how have you been doing?"

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 68):

"I would hope nothing more than dirty looks, maybe some raised hackles." Vonon answers with a shrug--which also moves his cap a little more forward, hiding his eyes.

"But with Vargr you never know.  Sometime we throw a punch at our closest friends--just to make sure everyone understands the pecking order.  Right now I'm kinda low on that list, around here.  But don't worry, that's all Vargr social crap.  Nobody'll involve you unless you interfere..."

Vonon suddenly stops and turns on Sam, "So, if any Vargr start anything with me--Do. Not. Interfere.  Unless a weapon gets pulled.  Weapons are not socially acceptable--snarling, biting and scratching are all okay, but no weapons.  And if any Humans get involved, it's something more than just Vargr social customs."

Vonon starts walking again,

"And in case you haven't noticed, while my people are True Vargr, through and through, we have a lot more decorum than our cousins from The Extents."

"That's why I said it shouldn't be more than snarls and dirty looks.  I mean, The Filthy Cur is a Patrolman hang out--as much as they might resent me, they won't risk censure by starting a bar brawl, either."

Sam nods at V "So leave you to get your ass kicked, unless someone pulls a weapon. Ok." They walk on a little before she adds "So why is your name mud around here? IF I can ask that"

In reply to Samantha Kilgore (msg # 72):

    "Whistle-blowing." Vonon growls in a low voice.

    "When I left the Patrol--Retired, it says on my records--I rather publicly made a number of statements about how things are run by the Powers-That-Be in the Patrol, here at Rockport.  That could have been forgiven, eventually, but I just had to take it further and provide documentation that, if it didn't outright prove what I had to say, at least indicated heavily the possibility I was correct."

    "Most of what I bitched about was stuff that, apparently, most folks took for granted--mostly because it couldn't be proven--but when I made public some internal Patrol documents, things were exposed to the public that couldn't be swept away.  I thought I was doing the right thing, I thought I was helping my community."

    "But, despite all the training, I just didn't fully understand the psychology of Asteroid Miners--Human Asteroid Miners.  When it came out in the News-Apps--all the things that I'd exposed that were wrong in Patrol High Command--people didn't ... really ... care."

    Vonon stops at a spot over-looking the bustling docks,

    "Sure, folks were angry about the bit of graft mentioned, and the mis-spent tax monies--but there was no outrage!  Everyone took that sort of behaviour by top officials for granted, and there was no surprise when it was exposed.  Within a week the Council of Ten came forward stating that they'd done an investigation and all guilty parties had been censured or charged with crimes.  The story was forgotten within a couple of days."

    "But in reality, nobody got more than a slap on the wrist--more for getting caught than for doing anything wrong.  I was cashiered, then most of my family and friends turned their backs on me."

    Vonon starts walking again, "That's not unusual behaviour among Vargr towards somebody who makes a major screw-up like I had.  What was surprising is that they acted like that at all, instead of trying to kill me!  Y'see, some of the documentation I made public I had taken from the files of a High Magistrate, here in Rockport--and the taking of those files was pretty much a betrayal of her trust, which we Vargr don't take lightly."

    Vonon again stops suddenly, turns and looks Sam in the eye,

    "Especially not when the High Magistrate I took the files from was my own mother."

Sharik smiled brightly at Indy when prompted about any libations.  She seemed to ponder for a pregnant moment, and then as if on cue, the grapefruit mimosas that she'd previously arranged for arrived.  "Well," the auburn-haired socialite feigned a touch of idle blase, "why don't we sip these while we figure out what to drink."  And she handed the tart bubbly-filled flute to her dining companion.

Taking a sip of her own glass, Shar proceeded to order full Italian spread: an antipasti sampling plate to start, then a capellini pomodoro pasta as her first plate.  After some hemming and hawing, she settled on a roasted groat loin on a bed of mushroom risotto for her second plate.  Then with a wink to Inderpal, Sharik proceeded to order two molten chocolate cakes with a raspberry coulis knowing that the flour-less cakes would require extra preparation time to be done correctly.

Finally done ordering, the cosmopolitan socialite turned her full attention to the young diplomatic courier.  "I am well." Shar noted casually, "You know, the usual.  Odd jobs: political intrigues, salvaging alien tech, rescuing damsels in distress.  That sort of thing."  Enticingly vague with just a touch exotic spice, she figured, "All broken up with week long stints in j-space."  It was the reality of travel on the Imperial frontier.  She paused and seemed almost wistful when she spoke again, "Hooked up with a pretty good crew on nice little ship.  A motley ... er, diverse bunch.  But extremely handy in almost any situation."  Shar liked the crew of the Longshot secrets and all; they were far from the standard tramp trader fair.

"How about you, young lady?" Sharik prompted Indy, "what have you been up to?  I mean last I heard you were pretty far from Cassandra's Belt.  And there was something, a rumor..." it tickled around in the back of her mind, "...about you and an ambassador's son?"

Sam meets Vonuns gaze, her eyes wide and her mouth open. For a split second shes says nothing. Then she starts to talk, her gaze wandering a little as she does so, as she struggles for words. "Well I don't know what to say really.... uhm...I mean thats a pretty full on thing to do....against anyone... but family especially... I guess it meant more to you to be honest than keep quiet, yeah?" She pauses a second, and meets his gaze squarely "theres loads to unpack there, Vonun, but I have only one question that matters  really. Do you regret it?"