Jason nods to Konrads instructions. "As you wish. May we prepare the bodies for burial, and lay them on the barge for now? Perhaps a small service before we depart, for our fallen brothers?"

"Ja. The only instructions I have, is the duties shift... and being vigilante while on board. Other than that, do as you wish." Bayer says.

Mariusz spoke softly to Dawid, "Comrade, would you search through Viktor's things, there maybe something personal you feel would be fitting to bury him with. As for your friend, Artur, well you know what he liked. I'll prepare some shrouds for the burial and I'll ask if they have any Czech flags we can borrow. There may be an old hotel that has some. The town probably has a cemetery we can use."

He squeezed the older Pole's shoulder and made his way to the galley. One of the preserved fruit jars was a pre-war cherries in kirsch, it should be exquisite to eat and he'd been saving it for a special occasion. He pocketed it and went out to one of the shore guards. He caught the man's attention and called him over. He showed him the jar and watched the man's eyes light up.

"We have comrades to bury," he said solemnly, "one was Czech, if you can find me a czech flag we can borrow to bury him, this is yours. Deal?"

He waited to see the guard's response and then headed to the tool room. He found several lengths of canvas, some string and a large sail-making needle. He laid this next to the bodies and went for some hot water, a sponge and some cloths.

He took off the boots and outer jackets of the three bodies and tried as best he could to clean up the mess around their faces. It was difficult to do much for Victor as the shrapnel had ruined his face.

He crossed their arms and laid each one on a canvass sheet. He sewed up the bottom and the middle until only the faces were uncovered. He put the clothes and boots to one side and laid out the contents of the clothes. Dawid could decide what would be buried with them.

He carried the bloodied jackets and boots up to the laundry and returned to await Dawid.

Well, shit, if it means that much to you I'll help dig the hole.  With that, Dave assist Dawid geting the bodies ready for disposal.

"I think the 23 & 82 Mike-Mike rounds are what got us through this point, the 82 rounds being more potent and packing a bigger and obvious punch.  Dawid's skill on it has made it our main armamnet and we need to stock up on those as much as we can.  I know some were short on .223 caliber rounds for our rifles?

I think if we get our hands on some RPG's or some LAW's, that should cover us somewhat.  I've got a small surplus of 40 Mike-Mike grenades for my launcher.  If we can get some of them and some for our PACT personal launchers, that would set us good for landing parties.  One last thing, I don't think a couple more shotguns would be a bad idea for having on board

Got no problems on taking the second wave into town.  Gives us a little time to tidy up some.  Be safe," Robert says as he reports to Major Soleblume for duty assignment.

Tucker
Slung M-16A2/M-203
On board tug for clean up & maintenance

After Konrad's meeting on the deck, Quyen leaves to stow away her rifle and M9 alongside her bunk space. Throwing her small bag of trade items over her shoulder she wanders over to where Mariusz is working on the dead. "Maybe we should keep their boots. Someone might be able to trade em in town for a drink or meal or something. Just an idea... they won't we needing them anymore."

Looking over at Jason she says, "I'm hoping there's a market. I want to try and trade for some smokes, playing cards, and maybe something fresh to eat."

Then as the idea came to her she points at Griet, "Hey chickens. I'm sure getting some can't be that expensive. Chickens will give us eggs and eventually meat too."

Quyen
Main Deck
Waiting to go ashore
This message was last edited by the player at 16:09, Mon 14 Apr 2008.

Jason smiled at Minh. He had seen her since the firefight, and she was truly a sight for sore eyes. Without thinking, he ran over and embraced her.

"Thank God your ok." he said touching her head. The swelling had gone down, but the lump was still there. "What happened? Thats quite an egg you have there yourself."

Realizing he was holding her, he breaks from his spell and steps back. "Sorry. I was just worried. A market would be a miracle."

He goes back over to Mariusz, helping him shroud the fallen. "Food is a priority, as well as ammo. Perhaps they might even have a way to work off some trade? Maybe some manual labor?"

Jason's actions caught her off guard and she wasn't sure how to respond. Whatever... at least somebody cares, she thought after a moment. Laughing it off she says, "Hit my head on the deck... hovercraft thing shot and I was knocked down. Still hurts a little, but no big deal."

Checkpoint

Switek [NPCed] studies the guards, noting their extreme nervousness. This is the perfect opportunity for Chopper and himself to get themselves shot, he concludes- one wrong word or gesture could provoke a fusilade of bullets in response. He raises his hands, keeping them well clear of the mounted Mk-19, and calls out a greeting, using the chaplain's tone and volume usually reserved for homilies regarding temperence,

"Hello brothers! We are part of a riverborne trade expedition from Krakow. We wish to enter the city."

A man steps out into the road, his rifle held at waist-level but pointed at the motorcycle. He approaches slowly. At about 20m, he yells [in Polish],

"Step away from the motorcycle! Keep your hands were I can see 'em!"

In Sandomierz

The mayor departs with the assurance that the city guard will be notified to allow entrance to a motorcycle/sidecar combo, leaving the Krolowa's crew to await the scheduled 3 o'clock meeting with the city's "commandant". While half of the security team stays busy on board the moored Krolowa under the curious stares of a trio of dock guards, the first shift ashore moves away from the riverside and deeper into the city.

Many of the city's buildings near the waterfront appear unnoccupied, with broken or boarded windows. The few civilians on the side streets quickly and quietly go about their business and seem completely indifferent to the sight of out-of-towners. The population of the city is quite obviously a shade of its pre-war levels.

Nearing the main east-west road through the city (the same road that passes over the bridge), the number of occupied/utilized buildings grows. Several storefronts line the main thoroughfair advertising with crude hand-painted signs all manner of goods and services. Within a single city block the team counts at least two pubs, a butcher, two green-grocers, a bakery, several retail (read pawn) shops, and what appears to be a brothel. Apparently, at least some merchant traffic passes through the city from time to time, bringing with it various appetites and fresh coin to spend.

A small cluster of four armed militiamen, all clad in Soviet fatigues, mill about outside the nearest pub- "The Old Boot", if the translation of the sign hanging above its facade is correct- eying the Krolowa's shore party. The militiamen snicker and converse in rapid-fire Russian, continuing to gawk at the approaching team. The shore party can pick out a few choice words- "Americans" repeated several times among various expletives (usually the first words anyone learns in a new language). From the volume of their voices, the militiamen intend for their unflattering comments to be heard.

Actions?

As the small party walks through the town, Jason covers the rear, keeping close to Minh, for both the pleasure of her conversation and to keep a protective watch over her. Passing the shops, he points out the potential for cigarettes to her.

"Maybe you can trade your egg on your head for a pack of smokes?" he chides, trying to make light of her injury. As they walk by the bar, he keeps a vigilant eye on the Russians standing out front. He makes a point of shielding Minh from their view.

"Captain, perhaps we should take some sort of formation."

Griet's mind was full of the negotiations to come. Juggling resources had never been her favourite task in the Navy and now she found herself preparing to do so once more, this time the resources were scarcer and the stakes higher. If she guessed wrong and they ended up short of something they needed later, people might die.

She heard Kasparov's suggestion of forming up in response to the Russian's insults. She felt that might well be the provocation they needed, if they needed any provocation, to start trouble. They were ashore now and any tenuous claim to authority over the Mercs she had ended at the gang plank. She held her tongue and hoped that the Kaptain would make a sensible decision.

She looked over at the pawn shops and wondered if they had any English Language books, having the time to read would be a luxury indeed and if they did find English books she could practice her English, her speech was getting better, but she needed more reading and writing practice.

"Ignore them. They only want a reaction." Bayer speaks softly looking interestingly at the businesses. "It's not a public market Quyen, but perhaps we can find some things in here." he says pointing to the pawn shops.

As he leads the group inside, he leads Griet into the front with his hand, "Would you mind telling him? We are looking for cigarettes, playing cards, English literature, and whatever else the rest here may want."

Griet gave the shopkeeper her best smile, "Good afternoon, Sir. My friends and I are looking for the availability and prices of certain items, in particular, my friends are looking for playing cards, books, especially any in English and cigarettes. Would you have any of these items for sale?"

Gaining control of himself, Dawid managed a weak smile at Bones.

"Thank you Bones, my friend."

"You would think after seeing so many comrades die, that I would be used to it. Still, death is not my friend."

"Jason, Mariusz, thank you both as well.

"Wasn't Viktor was part of the town ORMO? If so they will probably want some kind of report on him. I didn't know him well enough to judge what he would have felt as special. Perhaps his green infantryman's beret, as he was a Motor Rifleman."

"As for my friend Artur... I will check for some photographs he showed me once of his wife and children. Also, he had a St. Casmir icon (picture) folded up and kept in a pocket."

"These were good men. These were not criminals. Perhaps they believed in the wrong thing, but they had some kind of faith."

He wouldn't allow someone to take Artur's or Viktor's boots, any more than their wedding rings or any gold teeth.

Quyen lays on the table a few of her trade items, a complete set of lockpics, 4 AA batteries, a pair of battered binoculars, three gold rings, a combination lock, an RPG-16 HEAT round, and an unopened, prewar bar of Ivory soap. Pointing to the binos she says, "One of the lenses are broken... but it still works fine."

She thought surely in these post-war times, somebody, somewhere, would see something she has an object of value. She hoped today, if not in this pawn shop, she would meet such person.

"That soap... they don't make stuff like that quality anymore. Make a nice luxury item eh? Good for some wife of the town's elite?" Quyen promoted her stuff. "I've got the combo to the lock of course... and those lockpicks are precision crafted." Holding up one of the rings she continues, "Not fake of course."

Looking over the shoulder of the shop merchant, at his goods, she adds, "Got any hens?"

This message was deleted by the player at 12:52, Tue 15 Apr 2008.

Mariusz nodded solemnly as Dawid made his decisions, he placed the picture in one of Artur'shands and his family picture next to his heart. Viktor's beret went over his heart and Mariusz gently pinned the medals he'd found in the man's pocket book.

Mariusz had already made sure that personal jewelry and gold filling had remained with the person. He saw a few letters written to the Czech soldier and popped those in a pocket. There were others he'd written, Mariusz showed them to Dawid, "What should we do with these? Bury them with them or keep them in case the post ever gets running?"

Clearly touched, Dawid took a few seconds.

"You are very perceptive. I would suppose any letters to him are ones he kept from family and loved ones, and are private. The others, sure, let us see if perhaps they will be delivered."

"I feel in my heart that we must keep alive some belief that one day things will get better for our beloved Poland. That the mail will come, that there will be laws and justice and a fair court (which our people have not see for generations). We must believe that one day good people like Artur will help cast down the petty tyrants, instead of paying to keep them in power with their blood."

He sighed, looking at the footgear and figuring with a practiced eye how much they would fetch in trade.

"As for their boots, while they are perhaps worth a few zlotnys in trade, is it worth stripping away what little dignity they possess? Truly, we have taken everything else away from them. Let's leave them that."

9mm Stechkin (21/21)

The shopkeeper, a man with facial burns and an eye-patch who appears to be in his mid to late thirties, nods, fingering the items Minh has placed on his counter. The counter runs across the width of the building, near the storefront, and a length of chain-link fence extending from countertop to ceiling, save for a small aperture through which most transactions would appear to take place. A sawed-off, double barrel shotgun sits just out of reach of the transaction slot, discouraging would be shop-lifters.

The proprietor dissappears into the darkness of back of the store- piled high with all manner of goods- returning shortly with a deck of 52, an English language Agatha Christie hard-cover, an anthology of sci-fi short stories, and a "bodice ripper" romance novel.

"Booze and cigarettes are next door. Chickens are two doors down." he adds with a chuckle. "I'll take all of this [indicating Minh's goods] and make sure you get a pack of smokes and a nice, plump, egg-laying hen too. Deal?"* Noting the gentlemen among the group he adds, "I've got a couple of Playboys too, if you're interested..."

He glances nervously past his new patrons towards the front of the store. The four Russians the team passed earlier loiter just outside.

Actions?

*OOC: the proffered deal is Minh's soap, binos, lock, pick set, batteries and gold rings, for the playing cards, 3 books, a pack of cigarettes (quality unkown), and a hen.
This message was last edited by the GM at 23:52, Tue 15 Apr 2008.

"Well, that seems obvious" Hicks allows the idle to die down, and both brakes engaged, pops the clutch the kill the motor. He raises his arms high above his head and throws his leg over the front of the bike to dismount. He moves a couple of meters away and waits, hoping that he doesn't have to test the bullet proofness of his vest procured by the government from the lowest bidder.

With the smokers Chopper and Dawid in mind, Quyen taps the smokes on the table and flips he hand up showing three fingers. "Take back one book if you want... but I should get three packs of smokes. Those lock picks alone are top shit."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:25, Wed 16 Apr 2008.

Mariusz polished the boots up as best he could and showed them to Dawid, "If they are going to the final parade, they might as well look their best."
This message was last edited by the player at 09:50, Wed 16 Apr 2008.

Griet listened to Minh for a moment and said, "My friend says that she'll not have one of the books if you can offer her three packs of cigarettes. If you cut her a good deal this time, I'll make sure the others buy from you when they come ashore."

Bayer stands off the to the side as Griet and Quyen haggle with the merchant. He mutters to Jason, "Russians outside... looking for trouble." Rubbing the back of his neck he adds, "Apparently it seems they don't get enough action from the IPAT in Tarnobzreg. In any case, lets keep calm."

As the agreement for the trade was being finalized, Bayer leans in close to Griet. "When we leave, tell those Russians up front we have business with the commandante. Maybe he's got his dogs on a short enough leash, that it is all these guys will have to hear to piss off."

After Quyen gets (or doesn't get) her extra smokes, he says aloud, "Lets go collect that big hen ja?"
This message was last edited by the player at 12:19, Wed 16 Apr 2008.

"If it comes down to trouble, we will need to get the others back to the ship quickly." Jason replies to Konrad. "What type of action do you want to take? Perhaps a diversion? I could walk out alone and try to lead them off. Divide their numbers?"

Jason looks at Griet. "Ask how many cigarettes this will buy," he states giving her his 9mm, "and perhaps another hen? Ask him to toss in the other book and some toilet paper and I have three more magazines to sweeten the deal."