The ship is officially yours, though the final details- name and armament- are still being worked out.



There is a patron who cannot wait, though.  The one to whom a favor is owned.  She arrives during the ship's official "handover", an elderly woman, short, very wrinkled, wearing a gray cloak and a collar marking as an official of the Roman Catholic Church.

She introduces herself as Monsignor Eustacia Saniez, and says she is an official of the one of the Archdioceses of Lyonesse.

"We have an urgent delivery for a colony site on St. Brendan," she explains, "but I think you already know that.  I think they must be at a critical point in their work, they've been begging for this equipment for a year but they have been hounding us, and now with this port shutdown it is stuck in a warehouse in Nanton...  I understand you can fly it out, direct from Nanton, without shipping it to a space port first.  That's important.  What's also important is that this is done quietly and without any provocation.  We do not have a side in this labor dispute, but we do not wish to be seen as disrespecting the port workers, even if, as I have been told, they have not blocked the movement of aircraft... or spacecraft."

"I do not know what all the issues are, but the directors of the settlement the shipment is for have become extremely impatient.  I am afraid that further delays... such as waiting for the end of the labor problems here... will cause them some difficulties."


Aside from their hundreds of millions of followers spread across Human space, the Roman Catholic Church has been the main force behind the colonization of St. Brendan's World, a young but Earthlike planet known for extreme seasons about 32 light years distant to coreward (straight line, it's further for starships following navigational paths between stars).  St Brendan is not an easy place to settle, and it is off the main line commerce route, but has attracted people who want a lifestyle and social system oriented around the Catholic Church.  People join colonies for many reasons, and for some, it is a personal search for belonging.

After many years of effort the colony is still under developed.  Sixteen million people may sound like a lot, but spread across the surface of a planet they are very thinly scattered.  There is a major city- Port Grace- and some secondary towns, and a variety of small settlements.  One of them is Mission San Lorenzo, in a region called the Rain Coast. It is only a few years old, and home to about seven thousand people.  The name conjures images of forest, but St. Brendan is such a young world that the native ecosystem has not produced anything like a tree.  In fact, the native ecosystem is largely a bright blue-green slime.  That is what the settlers on the Rain Coast have been working to change.

"We'll be ready to jump in a day or two, then off to St. Brendans. That is the best we can do as we have to make a few preparations for space."
This message was last edited by the player at 15:18, Tue 03 Dec 2019.

Florence listened in the background. She wasn't overly fond of religion - any of them - but thankfully they didn't amount to much of anything considering how few followers they had. And as long as they stayed out of politics and didn't try to shape a civilisation to better reflect whatever outdated values it had - even if those had somewhat evolved in the right direction 'recently' - she simply ignored it.

Not that who asked for their help really mattered of course: the only thing that did was the delivery. Admittedly, she was a bit suspicious about what was to be delivered, and the obviously poor planning on the part of the colonists to rely on imports so many years after its creation: they should have been able to produce everything they truly needed locally. It was fine to rely on outside trade for luxuries, but not for stuff you absolutely needed. That was shoddy at best, criminal at worst.

More importantly, as far as she was concerned at least, there was this ongoing issue with the port workers. According to Saniez, it shouldn't matter to them, but she felt she had better check that out to be sure of it first, and should it happen anyway, to not be taken by surprise and ready for it. To that effect, she took her laptop out and started to look for relevant information about the conflict, its roots and causes of course, but mostly its current state.

Sara stood back and took notes on her datapad as Eustacia spoke. She certainly didn't see herself as much of an expert on shipping, nor did she desire to speak to the specific politics of the situation. Being seen as a 'scab' was certainly the last thing she wanted on her list of things people attributed to her, so her brow wrinkled a bit when the church official mentioned the port worker's strike.

"Is there anything we can do to make sure that we aren't stepping on any toes?"

"Is the cargo secret? Or may we know what we're hauling?"

For Einar being Einar, he displayed an uncharacteristic humility before the older woman, addressed her as "Ma'am" and generally gave her his full attention.

"We're not lookin to rile anyone up." he assured her. "I get that's it's probably the principle of the thing, this strike, but it sounds like your people need this stuff pretty bad." He glanced to Horace as the XO moved onto the harder questions.

Hearing Horace's question, Florence shook her head.  "The only way for us to be able to insure secrecy, should it be required, is for the crates we transport to have been sealed by customs at the point of departure. Even then, it should be made clear that should we find if necessary, we reserve the right to open the crates. In case of leaks or alarming noises for example."

"However if the crates, or the goods in general, have not been sealed by customs, then we are to be legally held responsible by the authorities at any point in our journey for whatever we transport, hence the cargo cannot be a secret from us, simply because we would have to make sure that what we've been told matches what we're transporting. Even without talking about anything illegal, we have to make sure that the manifests match the load yet again for legal reasons."

Horace thought he made a good investment in Florence for a million credits, she was right on target.

"Ms. Pearce is quite correct in what she said." Said Reggie,as he walked up and nodded to the elderly clergywoman. "But we shall do what can be done, to ensure the cargo is delivered intact, Monsignor.”

Oh, if only things were that easy…   crates…  oh my.

If it were crates the Monsignor could simply have them trucked or flown out of Nanton, then repacked and shipped off.

No, instead, she has a bulldozer, a pair of robotic dump trucks, a pair of loaders, and some other equipment… some of which is in crates.  All waiting in a warehouse in a harbor.  Nanton, being an industrial hub in an otherwise rustic governate,  is home to a major producer of such machinery, Kerriwynn, so the equipment was purchased here.  And now it is stuck, with the ships not moving and the equipment too big to travel easily.  Driving… well the machines could be driven from Nanton to New Avalon, but that brings up problems of its own.  A parade of construction vehicles driving through a city wracked with labor strikes would draw even more attention than flying them out on the… okay, what is it?  Albatross? (I checked, an Albatross CAN set down on water and float, so that name would fit!)

“I really don’t know why they are so insistent on having them now,” the Monsignor Eustacia Saniez explains.  “You would think a seven year old colony site would not have such an urgent time table.  Nevertheless, the Works director at Mission San Lorenzo has been nagging us relentlessly, so something must be a problem there, and a personal friend of mine said that he could arrange a ship.  I’ve actually never been to Mission San Lorenzo, it’s really the most remote settlement on the planet.  Maybe they have a problem they need to solve.  I’d like to accompany you to Nanton, but I can’t make the journey out to St. Brendan.  The Works director will take things from there. “

*** **** *** ***

A quick check of the colonies on St. Brendan confirms what she meant by “most remote”.  New colony worlds tend to follow a pattern of development:  a spaceport is established in whatever is deemed the “best” part of the planet.  A few other stations are then scattered elsewhere, mostly for communications, research and planning, and when necessary, security and emergency response.  Mission San Lorenzo is on the far side of the planet from the only large city and spaceport; Port Grace.  There is a minor city but it’s over two thousand kilometers away, with no roads.  St Brendan’s surface is young and rocky in most areas, so outside of the spaceport it is hard to land a conventional lander.  All of the settlements on St. Brendan are near the equator, along or near the sea, where the planet’s seasonal weather extremes are the weakest.  Mission San Lorenzo is at the head of an inlet, so the ship can reach it directly.   Normally very heavy cargo would arrive at Port Grace and then make a very long journey over the sea, but your ship can go right there.   The head of sales at New Avalon Starship Sales knew this and knew that your ship was the *right* ship for the job… as long as he could make the cost of the journey disappear into the finances of the ship.

"Never been a colonist, but I can think of of'a few things I'd like to have sooner than later. Especially if I had a family out there with me." Einar replied. "And we'd be glad to have you along for the ride, you'll probably even get your own room."

Einar looked around to the crew. "We'll aim to load up in the early morning hours, I'd say four or so before dawn. I can load the Dozer myself, and the loaders if it'll help keep our heads down. That is if we can get those turrets popped on and op checked before then?" he glanced to Wymp and Gain.

"The Lord helps those who can operate a bulldozer I guess," Noah Brooks said to no one in particular as he listened to the conversation.  Like Einar, Noah could operate any manner of heavy equipment, mostly due to his belter experience - not that he was interested in being stuck on dozer duty.  Brooks would be happy to let the Cap receive the blessings of St. Komatsu or John Deere for this run.  Noah would instead spend a bit of time with his handcomp doing some research:

Roman Catholic Church, St. Brendan
Enemies of the Roman Catholic Church
St. Brendan, Unrest
St. Brendan, Protests
St. Brendan, Violence
This message was last edited by the player at 05:37, Fri 06 Dec 2019.

"Ahh, that's good! Construction equipment needed to build the infrastructure for them. Nothing odd about it at all."

Florence didn't seem disturbed at all that the shipment didn't mostly consist of crates. Sure, it seemed that her explanation became superfluous...except that she had been mostly talking for the crew's benefit for future contracts, not the client's.

She quickly nodded when the woman mentioned the assumption that a colony of that age shouldn't need anything in a hurry. In fact, she more than agreed, especially regarding construction stuff. Either something had happened to those they had...or someone didn't want someone else to have access to the local machines for some reason. None of them good. One way or the other, they would have to keep their eyes open.

As such, she cocked a surprised eyebrow at Horace's intervention, not quite sure how to interpret it. "I guess we'll see what's what when we get there."

"And if you want to leave that early, I need to go get my own stuff." Not that she had all that much obviously, but she couldn't exactly fly away only with what she had on her at this time after all.

"Two days, long enough to get on board, stock up, and fill the turrets with goodies for Reggie."

Reginald does some research on security on St Brendan..


And meanwhile, the bridge crew checks out how they are going to fly into Nanton.

The work stoppage at the port actually has a very positive side effect for them:  ships are not moving in and out of the harbor.  Normally, flying into an urban area, a ship like this would either be assigned a time slot by the authorities controlling the port, or require a possibly delicate landing maneuver by the pilot, setting down without hitting a ship or boat in the water below.  (or flipping a boat over, the ship can displace a lot of water when it sets down).

There is the matter of when, meaning, what time of day.

On many planets, the local rhythm does not match well with human schedules.  Lyonesse is more comfortable than most planets in many ways, but the days, each a little under 20 hours long,  are just too short for humans easily adapt to.  So a standard calendar day on Lyonesse, called a Date to avoid confusion with a Day (which is the rotation of the planet), is one and a quarter local Days, for a total of about twenty four and a half hours.  Of course, this means that the Days and the Dates are out of sync.   Every Date, the sunrise is six hours earlier.  As crazy as it sounds, this was easier for people to adapt to than 19 and a half hour days.

But it also means that time of day for the arrival is entirely up to the party.  The Day/Date problem means that ship arrival times are not planned to coincide with daylight, they happen at any time. Ten in the morning can be daylight one day, the middle of night the next, and people here are used to it.  So... if one intends to arrive before dawn, the question really means, here on Lyonesse: 1)Before the regular work Date begins.    2) While the area is still dark    or 3)  One of those times when the two are together, it is dark AND the work day has yet to begin?
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:14, Mon 09 Dec 2019.

"Great job Reginald.  Wish I had thought of doing research on St Brendan," Noah said, rolling his eyes before mic dropping his handcomp.

Noah's Brendan Research...
This message was last edited by the GM at 20:10, Mon 09 Dec 2019.

Einar posited that with the versatile light cycle, they should be able to start before the normal work day and under the cover of darkness. While it would be less usual, his logic was that there would be fewer people awake, and of those that were, they might be hesitant to try and notify others if they were sleeping.

Horace agreed with the captain about slipping out in darkness.

 Reggie spent his time, making sure the interior cameras functioned correctly. All interior locks, lockdowns, etc., functioned correctly. He would  activate the drone* if they had one*, to conduct exterior surveillance on the ship.

  When he had the time, Reg would find the Captain, to speak with him. “ Mr. Wymp, Just a few things to clarify. I think weapons should be stored in the ships locker with the only access being you, the EX and myself. We can’t chance  an accident with a hole in the exterior hull. Hard to do, but it can happen. Also, no weapons for any passengers, I assume. I am hoping to be able to afford a used fluoroscope, soon, to scan cargo and passenger luggage. untill then, it will be old school searches.”

 Once Reg was done, he  inquired.” Do you have any questions or tasks for me, at the present?”

"You sound squared away already. Weapons should be in the locker, Captain, myself, and you with access. Search away the passengers. Carry on Mister Gain, you have the gist of it. The rest okay Mister Gain?"
 
This message had punctuation tweaked by the player at 15:47, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

" I suppose I should call you Captain; it will take some getting used to this spacer  speak. My background is Corp Sec, as you know. I will keep an eye on the weapon installation for the ship. Mr.…Ahh,Captain.”

 Reg turned to go, but then paused, "one last thing, I am trying to get my hands on some sort of stun device. You, the EO and I should have one. I will keep you up to date.” He turned to go about his tasks."

"I'm the XO, Einar is Captain, Mister Wymp is fine for me. Or Horace. Get stun guns for everyone, we might need them someday Mister Gain."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:11, Tue 10 Dec 2019.

When they finally get ready, they fly to Nanton, landing before daylight, before the work Date begins.

On the major worlds, cities rival those of Earth.  Nanton is the industrial capital of the Governate of Western Ker Ys.  Its shape is easily seen at night, from the lights of the city.  It sprawls along the coast, surrounding the port, and tendrils follow the major transit lines inland.  But the crew has only moments to take in the view as the ship sets down just beyond Nanton harbor.  It is easier now, with the city quiet, because night and the Date’s off shift coincide today.  It would have been much harder in daylight, or during “business hours”, which would have meant carefully selecting an approach so as not to hit anything in the water.  With Alwin at the controls, they arrive in Nanton.

The ship has a noticeable roll when it's floating away from a dock.  Alwin consults the manual (actually, files in the ships computer.)  Pelicans will tend to do that when the cargo hold is empty and they are floating "light".  But the wings serve as outboard pontoons.  Like the outriggers on a traditional Polynesian boat, they keep the ship from rolling too far.

Water Landings, he observes, are a little trickier than standard landings.  They are not recommended for someone with only “Pilot 0”.

They’ve arrived at the most quiet possible time.  The ship floats up to the pier, turning around and lowering the ramp so that the cargo can be driven on.  The warehouse is there on the pier, not far, and everything looks deserted.

There is security, of course.  The Monsignor told everyone about that.  But it’s their security, and they are expecting you.  You aren’t stealing, just moving things quietly.

"Secure the lines and tie her off." Horace instructed upon reaching the dock. Hanging on tight for his life as the ship bobbed in the water like a cork. He didn't know how to swim.
This message was last edited by the player at 14:50, Fri 13 Dec 2019.

Horace moved deeper into the ship as they approached the pier, getting as far away from the water as he could. "Anyone here know how to swim? If there is, I'm ready to learn how to. I don't feel like drowning in port."

As she had said previously, Florence had left the ship for a couple of hours, time it took her to grab a small suitcase: apparently, she believed in travelling light. Or she didn't have much to begin with, but it wasn't the kind of impression she gave.

After that and while the rest of crew had worked on installing the weapons under Reginald's watchful eye, she had split her time between exploring the ship - taking full advantage of her slim build to access pretty much everything - and studying in her room.

In the morning of the loading, while awake it was perfectly clear that she'd like nothing more than to go back to sleep for at least a couple of hours. Despite that, she was standing near the hold, tablet displaying the manifest in hand, ready to check everything that reached the ship to make sure they had everything...and nothing else.

When Horace asked his question about swimming, she shook her head. "Not for this." It wasn't that she was inept: she wouldn't drown in a swimming pool after all. But those were definitely not the calm conditions of a swimming pool. "It probably wouldn't hurt to learn a bit more though..."

The water is calmer, and the ship stabilizes as it reaches the pier.  The "Auto-mooring" system turns on, anchoring the ship to the shore, and the ramp extends.

The Monsignor, who has been worriedly strapped to a seat ever since she realized that this was the first landing this crew has attempted on this ship, heads down to the ramp as soon as she is able to, so she can talk to whoever is at the warehouse, which is not far away.

Someone from the warehouse is already walking out to meet the ship.

It's all as per the Monsignor's arrangements, so far.  The person who comes to meet the ship is a property manager for the church, the one who handles the logistics for things like this.

He is a middle aged man, well dressed if a little plain looking, with that look that says he'd probably be bald except that he's had hair restoration treatment.  (It always seems to a little too thick on men of this age).

"We're not getting any loaders," he says.  "The port workers are on strike, and won't even come out for this... even if it's a starship and not a maritime ship.  They say a ship is a ship.  Technically we are breaking the strike."

"Technically we are not," the Monsignor says.  "They explicitly said closed to marine traffic."

"Well they say this is close enough."

"Do we have anyone, then?" she asks.

"Only us, and a lot to load... construction equipment.  And I hope we can do it quickly, before overly observant people see a ship getting loaded."

The property manager seems nervous.

Horace starts to load the ship, carrying what he could. He could load wheeled vehicles too.
This message was last edited by the player at 12:26, Mon 16 Dec 2019.

Florence went to meet the property manager while everyone else started to go fetch the cargo they were going to transport. As she walked though, it was quite obvious she was a bit distracted by something given the way she looked towards the horizon - even if she couldn't see it at all of course.

Still, when she reached the man, she nodded in his direction. "Good morning." She paused there for a time, valiantly trying to repress a yawn. She finally lost that battle then shook her head. "Sorry about that. Can you send me your manifest so I can check everything that comes on board please?"

 Reggie walked down the ship’s ramp and stopped off to the side to scan the immediate area. He wore a jacked and his usual hat, with pants and boots. The jacket concealed something that was not for the casual observation. A compact sub gun on a shoulder holster that allowed the weapon to hang barrel down,at his side.


 When he heard that they where the ones to have to load the cargo, he frowned. He was not trusting by inclination and training, and the Property manager being nervous just made Reggie that more hypersensitive.” Well, I guess I am muscle to help load the cargo. I would rather be in a vantage point with binoculars to observe the area for potential trouble. But this crap is not going to load itself.”

 Before Reggie asked where they wanted him, He had to do a certain thing. He walked over to the property manager, and smiled to the man. " You seem ill at ease, Sir. This there any particular reason?"

"The port is on strike Mr. Gains. We're scabs, he's afraid we'll be seen and violence will follow."

“Perhaps, Mr. Wymp, perhaps. But I am not a trusting sort by nature.” He headed over to assist with the loading.

"Good, you'll help keep us alive longer that way. I tend to trust too much." He helped load any wheeled vehicles first so that the load would be balanced and not tail heavy. Lashing everything into place so the load would not shift too.
This message was last edited by the player at 16:18, Wed 18 Dec 2019.

Alwin did his part to assist in the loading of the cargo.  He was eager to begin this new venture, but he had enough experience with previous crews so that his demeanor only showed a basic professionalism, and a desire to handle the task at hand both quickly and efficiently.

"That's it exactly," says the property manager.  "No one is going to organize a mob to break down the gate here.  There might be complaints, lots of complains, but on the official end, that's it.  But on the unofficial end, there's no telling what angry young people absolutely certain of their cause might do.  If there's trouble, though, we don't hurt anyone.  The faster this goes the less chance for trouble.  I'm sure there were a few people watching for strike breakers over the night, maybe they planted a sensor or two.  But it would take them some time to get here.  I can't say how much time, though."


Moving the dump trucks proves... interesting.  They are not the typical cheap, manually operated machines.  They are brand new robotic dump trucks, with that fresh from the factory new robot smell.  And that fresh from the factory neutral yet cheery and creepily enthusiastic robot voice.



Meanwhile, Florence looks over the cargo manifest.  In addition to the heavy equipment there is quite a list!  Apparently the church agency behind this wasn't going to waste the opportunity, so the dump trucks are stacked with freight in their beds, and the other vehicles are carrying what they can.  It's all kinds of things, crammed into boxes.  Toys, hardware, seeds, towels, medical supplies, socks, tools, hot sauce, paint, a little of this, a little of that.  Unlike the robotic trucks it doesn't look new or factory packed.  Just Stuff, loaded into boxes.  On the other hand, they seemed to be prepared to move it quickly- almost everything is either in or on a vehicle, or positioned so it can be quickly moved on dollies.
This message was last edited by the GM at 02:03, Thu 19 Dec 2019.

"This is excellent, it should load quickly, lets get it on board!" After the dump trucks are loaded the smaller stuff comes next!

 Reggie did his part, in helping load the cargo. But he would pause every once in a while to look around, to take the measure of the surrounding area, as best he could. Training and experience  was second nature, in this matter.

"Signs of trouble Mister Gain? Or is all clear yet?"

Einar had seemed on edge during their pre-flight check, and as their cooperatively purchased Pelican got underway on its first voyage under their ownership. He paced a bit, watched the read out closely and look all about as if he was able to see through the hull and deck plating to the components beneath.

As the minutes passed he relaxed a bit, but behaved much like a concerned parent might as they  proceeded to Nanton.

After they had touched down, and Einar had staggered along with the rest of them with the vessel pitching gently under their feet. He declined to comment much on just how explicitly they were violating the strike, in spirit or in practice, but proceeded directly to the cargo and sized up the load in hopes of getting a feel for a timeline.

The trucks prove far more advanced than anything he had ever personally handled, but he endeavored to get them loaded in good time, and to maximize the space for the cargo that would come next.

As he passed some of the rest of the crew, he slowed to hear Reggie's response.

Landing the Albatross is somewhat obvious.  No doubt, anyone awake and looking out over Nanton harbor (and any camera) would have seen it.
But would they have cared, that is the issue.

There is no immediate reaction anywhere to what's going on, and everyone can take advantage of the lack of attention to load the cargo, some of which is self loading.

Something on the property manager's person beeps.

"Ohhh, they're calling," he says, answering his phone.  Although he walks away a snippet of the conversation can be overhead.  He's playing dumb.


"Oh yes, I know, but you know how it is, this is the time they gave me..."
"It's just some church stuff.  Church materials.  Not commercial cargo, so it's not really..."
"No, nothing like that..."

 Reggie stopped in what seemed  a casual break, but looked the immediate area over, again. He saw the ground car, and heard the property manager's conversation.

 He went to take a drink from a water bottle." There is a ground car. At the far end of the warehouse. I think they are just looking us for, for the time being. But they might call for muscle. "

"Lets pick up the pace, maybe we can be gone before they arrive."

"Yeah, sooner we're gone, the better." Einar agreed. "Reggie, keep an eye on'em and we'll pick up the pace. We can always adjust the load once we're away."

Horace picked the pace up to a fast walk on everything, it was crucial to be gone before trouble arrived. The pace was grueling.

The Monsignor has one more box for you.

"I know our... friend.. told you we could not afford the typical rates for your ship, and he would arrange things.  We promised to pay what we could, what we had put together for the trip.  We have 90,000 in Commonwealth currency.  It would have paid for a regular delivery on a slow haul freighter.  I am going to go talk to the people in that vehicle.  I'm betting that if they have any thoughts of trouble they won't start it with an old priest."

The rest of the loading goes smoothly.  The robot trucks had already been loaded, themselves, but the cargoes have to be strapped down with webbing.

Some cargo ships have robots to do this work.  Crews tend to accumulate robots over time, it cuts down on the physical labor.  Then the ship's doctor tells them they need more exercise, so the net gain in convenience tend to be limited.   But perhaps the ship can visit a robot dealer or two.  Probably not where they are going, though.  That's not the sort of thing you find on a remote settlement.

The Monsignor is still talking  to the people in the vehicle when the cargo is all loaded. The crew is tired.

"Time to lift off, damn I'm tired, but we need to get out of here ASAP. Orders Captain?"

 Reggie did his best to assit with the final loading, and keep an eye on the Monsignor,at the same time.

 Once the loading was complete, the Security man headed over towards the car and church woman."  Monsignor, everything is secured. It is time for us to depart, if you please."
This message was last edited by the player at 17:03, Tue 24 Dec 2019.

"ALL ABOARD!"

The cargo has been quickly and hopefully correctly stowed aboard.  There are mesh nets (included with the ship, naturally) that descend over pallets and boxes and secure everything tightly.

The Albatross is a good ship.  The Penguins are tough, reliable, and once in space, quick.  If they have a down side to their performance, it is in getting up there.  Some corners had to be cut, the engines that launch and maneuver the ship are not that strong.  (But it's still an improvement over the many ships that cannot land at all!)

At busy worlds, all departures and arrivals are watched and coordinated.  This is not an intrusive thing, this is a necessity, to avoid messy collisions.  A ship enters or leaves the Lyonesse system several times per hour and there are generally dozens of merchant ships in orbit, and some belonging to the Commonwealth Navy.

They pass by several vessels on their way out.

At this point, they have the first navigational choice to make.

The ship will need to refuel once along the way and refueling points are less common out on the frontier.  There are two common routes to St. Brendan from Lyonesse.  The standard route is by way of Deseret, a total trip of 51.3 Light Years, with a stopover at Deseret, which is an important colony planet.  The shortcut stops at the outpost at Gideon instead, and is only 48.3 LY.  Most traders choose to stop at higher population worlds to do more trading, pick up passengers, cargo, etc, so the Gideon route is much less traveled even though it is shorter.

Both routes are considered safe and are patrolled by the Commonwealth Navy, though the frequency of patrols drops off quickly after Deseret and Gideon.  The trip to Deseret is so common that there are two daily large passenger transports going that way, the Ville De Cariveau having the previous evening, and the Ville De Regiomont being prepped for the morning departure.  The route to Gideon is much more lonely.

Einar looked beat as they climbed steadily out of atmo, and while he had caught his breath, he still had the look of a man who would be stiff in the morning.

Much as he had on the way in, he listened to the pitch of the thrusters as they manuvered under load. It reminded him that they needed to stop in orbit and to double check that nothing would come loose under strain given their hasty departure.

"Alright..." He finally said gruffly once they broke Atmo. "Mister Wymp, could you run the math and see if a stop in Deseret would be worth the trouble? Figure that might have plenty of goods that the St. Brendan colonists might find useful. If they can afford them of course"

"Aye-aye Captain."

Horace punched into the computer the info he was looking for, the safe, well traveled route was preferable after all.

 Once they had burned for orbit, Reggie would pass the time by breaking down and cleaning his weapons, and working out.

 If anyone played chess, he would invite them to a game.

At the beginning a bit distracted by something, Florence quickly focused on what she was doing, trying to keep track of the cargo coming on bord as best she could which was not as well as she would have liked given the rythm stuff was brought on board. Oh, she got all the big stuff alright, they were kinda hard to miss after all. No, it was all packages stored in the vehicles that was a lot more challenging.

Soon she gave up on most of it, recognizing the futility of trying to do it all at once. With a couple more people, it might have been possible, but not alone. At least it would give her a bit to do on the way… Not that she didn't have other plans though. Robots seemed a nice possibility to help her, especially considering that… Well, it didn't matter for now.

As the ship prepared for take off, Florence sat at an unoccupied station and closed her eyes. She didn't seem scared at all, nor did she seem about to go to sleep, no, instead she seemed to be trying to be focused on something…maybe.

Once in orbit, when the subject of their route was addressed, she had something to say. "I don't know about finances, but going to Deseret seems to be the better option: we will want to get there after this run to pick a new job, but more importantly by going there now we could learn about stuff we might be able to find on St. Brendan: even if it's not much considering the state of the colony, running empty doesn't get money in the accounts so it'll always be better than nothing. Plus," She shrugged. "This being our first trip and all, we might find stuff that needs fixing on our way there. Being at Deseret instead of Gideon would make it much easier. It would also allow us to order parts in advance and pick those on our way back should the need arise."

They turn towards Deseret, and are soon Faster Than Light... and then come five days of rest.

The ship has room for more stuff, if you want to pick up things at Deseret.  Right now, due to the quick departure of the ship from Lyonesse, the ship has a lot of empty room.  Not so much in the cargo hold, but there are 12 staterooms and only 6 in the crew.

In the cargo hold, the equipment and supplies loaded take up about three quarters of the available space, but that’s due to the awkward, bulky shapes.  One could stuff a lot more small packages in and around the equipment-a total of about a third of the space is available, with careful packing.  There is some room (overhead) for pallet cargo, but it is impossible for shipping containers to be loaded.  As it is presently loaded, the ship could not take on more cargo in space.  The trucks and equipment are not packaged to be exposed to vacuum.  If the cargo bay was opened in space, that would cause a lot of damage.  Unless the ship lands at Deseret, cargo can only come and go through the airlock, which is much smaller.

They do a little checking in to the local economics of the two worlds they are headed for:


Deseret is known for:
Boats/Small Watercraft
Ground Vehicles
Infant Care Items.  They have a high birth rate on this world and take such things seriously.
Leather
Luggage, Travel Gear, Personal Bags- several "designer lines" are made here.
Prosthetic Devices
Refrigerant and Firefighting Gasses
Robotics Components
Tropical Fruit- Pineapples aren't easy to grow on most worlds.  They like Deseret.
Wall Finishes- including some odd "smart" ones- think stucco that can change colors on demand.

St. Brendan is known for:
Very little.  Being a recent and small colony they are a net importer of most things.   But that being said, there are exports of:
Soap and Personal Hygiene Products - valued for their supposed "special natural qualities", being made from the local life, which is mostly a sort of blue-green fuzzy slime on the rocks.   Like many exotic goods, this sort of thing tends to get more valuable with distance.
Air Filters and Filter Components
Cleaning Supplies
Dyes and Inks

Horace wonders if they could get more Cargo for St. Brendans. "Who is our broker here? We need to check on the availability of cargo for St. Brendans or beyond, though it will have to be packed to take up little volume. We'd have to land to take on cargo or passenger."

Einar had made himself a little instant coffee from his personal stash, some saccharine mixture with Cyrillic writing that he had picked up somewhere along the way. It was decent, and he drank deeply of the stuff as he stood on in the cockpit and watched as they manuvered.

It was starting to catch up to him. The chaos of that morning, the happenstance collaboration and the giddy thrill of spending an obscene amount of money. They crew, the contract and finally the physical labor of trying to get the ship loaded without any interference from the locals. He wanted to go rack out, but, had opted for the coffee instead.

"I think you just volunteered" Einar said with a faint smirk and a sip. "I know it's kind of cleche, but what do you think about the baby stuff?" He asked the crew in general as he scrolled through the economic summary of Deseret and her myriad trading hubs. "I mean it's a Colony right? A Catholic colony, I'm thinking there's gonna be a whole lotta ankle biters comin' along, if they haven't already.'

"Agreed. Haven't you slept for the entire voyage captain? Five days in space has been good!"

"Normally takes me about two weeks" he admitted with a slight shrug. "New ship, new sounds, new crew...it's a new start, a whole lot of "ifs"" While there was some notion of standard time cycle, the dimming of lights and the rythm of a shift, he had also been coming off a particularly arduous contract, so he was paying back some of his sleep debt piecemeal.

"Nice to have my own bunk again" he commented in a more upbeat tone. "And a room to myself. I set my bag in the corner and just kind of wondered what I was supposed to do with all that space, might have to hang up a few mementos."

He gestured towards Wymp with the sealed cup. "How 'bout you? You sleepin ok? Got your guts right?"

"I'm good, sleep like a baby. It is nice to have your own state room."

In the five days since they had left Lyonesse, Florence had been quite busy: she had spent the first day going through the stuff they had in the cargo-bay, making sure it matched the manifest perfectly. Not that it would have been possible to do anything about it of course, but at least she'd have known something was wrong.

After that, she spent most of her time reading on her laptop, taking a few notes from time to time or taking a few strolls through the ship. Though when she did that, she seemed deep in thought and not paying attention to anything that didn't jump in her face. When she went on those strolls, she left behind her the light, nice - and very feminine - citrus smell of her body-wash or shampoo.

At the time of the discussion about taking more cargo on Deseret, the girl proved that despite being focused on her laptop she still paid attention to what was going on around her by saying. "As soon as we arrive, we should make it known that we're going to St. Brendan with available passenger slots. We might not have many takers, but even one is better than nothing. Especially if we don't hire anyone else."

She tapped her fingers rhythmically on her laptop for a second before adding. "Given St. Brendan's exports of hygiene stuff," She glanced darkly at Einar at that. "I'm not sure baby stuff is the best we could get. Before two years old or so, I don't suppose there's too much you really need to get from another planet. Except for emergencies but we can't really predict it. Maybe a better idea would be to aim a bit later than that, toys and particularly young children education stuff. The colony is, what? Six years old or so? Maybe we should aim at stuff for kids three to five years old?"

"Maybe a little of both Miss Pearce? Baby and hygiene as well as anything else we can carry. Passengers are welcome too."
This message was last edited by the player at 19:19, Fri 03 Jan 2020.

Florence's eyebrows Rose a bit, as if she were puzzled. "Hygiene? I could understand for... Well, for the ship," She carefully avoided looking at Einar at that. "But what would we do with it in St. Brendan? That's one of the stuff they export isn't it?"

After a brief hesitation, as if a bit unsure - or unused to it - she added. "And call me Florence please..."

"St. Brendans exports Hygiene? I'm sorry, I got confused there for a bit, . . Florence. I'm Horace by the way."

Florence got the file up on her laptop and pointed to it. "Soap and personal hygiene. They apparently produce it from some kind of local slime. It could probably sell decently enough on Deseret - or even better farther out - but I don't see us getting much by trying to sell hygiene products on St. Brendan."

She shrugged. "Which is also why I'm not sure if baby products would work all that well. For the most part it'd be food or hygiene, right? They already have all of this already. But if we aim at the three to five years old range, I think we'd have more success. But I'm obviously no expert, so..."

"Go with your gut Florence, I was confused on the hygiene, your were spot on."

"Well, I'm not the one taking the decisions here." After a while, she continued. "But I feel like it would be a good bet. Same with the wall stucco thing that changes colour. Neither of the two are things they absolutely need, but that could be an advantage in that it also means they don't have it yet, and could be real glad to have it."

"The parents to please their children and give them better opportunities, and home owners with the luxury to do what they please with their walls. Pretty standard stuff in worlds colonised long ago, but a bit of a luxury on St. Brendan at the moment, and I'd bet we could easily sell however much of either we can transport. Not that it'd be all that much considering what we already have of course."

She tapped her lips as she considered the question. "Which of course means we won't get a big profit that way. Well , not with the paint thing as I guess the price isn't all that high. But they probably don't really have a market for the small and expensive stuff we could find and that would fit in the cargo hold. The toys and learning stuff have the advantage of not taking much room, which means a good quantity, and probably being in the right price range that we would be able to sell them on a new-ish colony while still making a nice profit."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:05, Fri 03 Jan 2020.

Alwin only had a few mementos in his quarters - magnetized to stick to the wall and not come loose should the ship's gravity fail for whatever reason.  Perhaps in time he would accumulate more, but the last few weeks he had been traveling light.

In the time since they had left the Lyonesse system Alwin had kept himself busy enough, even as he was enjoying having a bit of relative downtime.  He tried to get basic medical info from his fellow crewmates, in preparation of any injuries that hopefully wouldn't occur.

He also used his steward training to show those of his new business partners who weren't as used to eating of a ship's galley on an extended basis how to get the most out of the basic offerings available.  It was true that the basic food packages were relatively idiot-proof, but there were several little tricks that would make the basic fare more palatable and enjoyable.

There was also some time spent in the engineering section.  He had already been through and inspected said area when they had purchased the vessel, but getting a feel for the various drives while in actual use wasn't something you could really ascertain when the ship was sitting still.

When he had found occasion to be with several of the others, and the conversation had turned to Deseret and of potential cargoes for possible purchase, he had stayed silent for a bit before speaking.  Finally, after finishing off the last little bit of some cheese and summer sausage, he spoke up.

"I agree with Florence regarding looking for anyone who might be wanting passage from Deseret to St. Brendan.  Dealing with passengers can have its own headaches to deal with - and we would need to be upfront that this isn't going to be a luxury liner by any means - but it can also be a nice little source of income for the ship.  As a bonus, we might actually hear some useful information while in conversation with them."

"As for cargo..." he paused momentarily, as trading and cargo speculation wasn't one of the skills he had learned during his time on various shipping vessels for the megacorp.  "Prosthetic devices might be something we would want to consider, although that might be a little more high-risk.  St. Brendan is a new colony world, and there's probably no lack of injuries that they've had to deal with."

 Reggie did not know about trade, but what he wa thinking made sense to him." I would think that anything that would entertain, would sell, on an isolated post. Holo games, music, even old school board games. Anything to break up the daily routine."
This message was last edited by the player at 02:16, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

 The more Reggie thought about this run, the more he felt somthing was off." It might just me being my usual paranoid self, but why did the Monseigner give us a box of cash? Something is off on this deal. The Church usually uses more traditional methods of compensation."

 Reggie got to his feet." I have the time right now. So I am going to go over the cargo, as much as I can. If I am wrong, no harm. But if I am right.....
This message was last edited by the player at 09:12, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

"A couple of prosthetics are probably fine, but taking any kind of quantity would be quite risky… So as far as the ship is concerned, I'm not sure something else would be more profitable. After all, the higher the number of different products we want, the longer it will take, both to buy and to sell. And time taken for that could be better used. In the end, finding the trade of the year could be less profitable than making two slightly less profitable runs."

She turned to Reginald next. "Holo-games and music come in digital formats, with lots of IP regulations. Either it's really easy to get and they'll have plenty of it, or it's a mess and it wouldn't be worth our time for now I suppose. Though it wouldn't hurt to look into it for later at any rate." She paused, opened her mouth to add something, then changed her mind and closed it and shrugged.

"Speaking of time and investments." She looked at Horace. "I think we should have a budget to get a sort of uniform made in Deseret. Not military style or anything obviously, and not in a single form, but I think it would do lots of good for how prospective clients see us if there was some unity, which could be as simple as just an albatros embroidered or something like that."

She seemed to hesitate for a couple of seconds, then added. "On top of that, I'd like to talk to you about renting space for the equivalent of a standard container or so."

"How big?"

"Like I said, a standard container or so." Florence frowned, deep in thoughts, then added. "I doubt I'd need all of it at the beginning but…" She shrugged. "Hopefully I'll be able to fill it soon enough."

"Go ahead, what you fitting?"

"I don't have enough credits for a share in the ship, far from it in fact," Florence grimaced slightly, but didn't seem all that bothered by it. "But that doesn't mean I have nothing. Since I have a lot to learn, I thought the best I could do was to learn by doing and use that money to trade things by myself. I probably won't get much financially out of it, at least in the beginning, but that's not the main objective anyway, so…"

She paused for a second then added. "We'll need a couple of rules though. Simple ones like I'm given enough time to sell whatever I have and to buy once a destination has been selected. And of course, I don't go over that time. Maybe I'd have to pay for food and docking fees should I make the ship wait. If there's an emergency for whatever reason and we must leave before I am given time to buy, I don't pay the rent to the next destination, stuff like that."

She frowned, thoughtful. "I'd probably have to create a company of my own to keep things straight I suppose."

"Didn't I give you one of my shares? Agreed in any case."

"You did, but…" Florence briefly shook her head. "I will give it back to you. Not that I don't appreciate the gesture, but…" She seemed to hesitate on what to say next, before settling on "I shouldn't own things I haven't earned."

As if the thought had just popped in her mind, or maybe just to change the subject, the girl added. "Oh by the way, regarding passengers, I never had cause to look into it but if there's a market for non-human passengers, maybe it would be more profitable for us than just humans? I'm sure we can do something about food, and I speak most of their languages. Mostly… With a bit of help for some." She lightly tapped her laptop at that. "It could be a nice advantage we'd have over the competition, no?"

"No, keep it, you'll earn it, you can repay the principal over time frrom your interest if you want to, and yes, by all means, I'm not xenophobic."
This message was last edited by the player at 16:20, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

"Hmm." Florence didn't seem convinced, but let the matter drop for the moment. "I'll start making plans for all of this then. Hopefully I'll be ready by the time we arrive in Deseret."

 Mr. Security went to get a few tools and a flashlight.He then headed for the cargo bay, to inspect the cargo for anything that struck him as odd.
This message was last edited by the player at 17:31, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

Horace let the crew check the cargo as much as they desired, he didn't care.

"No side trading" Einar stated with a nod when Florence talked about setting up her own personal business on the ship. "What you do on leave is your own business, as long as it doesn't bring the law down. But there's conflict of interest if we start parcelling out space in cargo just for your own stock." he said flatly, then sipped his coffee.

"Nothing personal, just served on crews long enough to know that ventures like that cause trouble. We earn as a team, or we lose as a team. If you want to dabble in trade you can go with the XO when he haggles with the suppliers." he nodded slightly and slowly towards Wymp.
This message was last edited by the player at 19:40, Sat 04 Jan 2020.

Florence's eyes harden. "First, I propose to rent the space, not take it for free, second, it's insulting to think I would somehow sabotage the ship's revenues to get my own that I couldn't care less about, third yours is not the only voice to pitch in for those matters. While you may be against it and have the most shares out of everyone, I believe this is the kind of things that would have to be put down to a vote and you do not have a controlling percentage."

"I do not want to 'dabble' in trade, I want to learn, and I believe it would be the best way to do it, without any risks to the ship's revenue or mode of operations." She frowned. "Are you against me trying to learn?"

"I'll teach you Florence, I am a broker."

Florence turned to Horace, without saying anything for a while. Finally, she asked, her voice obviously tightly controlled. "Am I to understand you changed your mind?"

Einar seemed unphased. "Kid. I know you've never served on a ship before, and I respect that your Granddaddy served on this one. I do" he nodded slightly.

"But you bring no money, and no experience. In most ships, entry level, you'd be doing scut work. That goes for the Navy as well. And there many out there that would be glad to have it for the privledge of serving on a ship."

He cocked his head slightly. "If you're gonna call a vote, or throw a fit every time somethin' doesn't go your way, you're not gonna last long here. Or much anywhere for that matter. You want to rent a commercial space on a ship, it's not gonna be on this one. Not while I'm the registered Captain." he said softly but matter of factly.

He glanced to the XO, then back to her. "We good?" He asked the pair expectantly, a calm tone but maybe a little tired.

"I see." Florence glared at the man. "Then consider this my advance notice: I will go to the term of my contract, meaning St. Brendan and back to Deseret, then I will leave." She turned to Horace. "I will of course give your share back as I will not have earned it."

"Aye-aye sir, HE is the captain, HE makes all final decisions. If it were up to me, I'd say go for it, it isn't up to me. I will train you and teach you to be a broker/trader if you want."

Einar nodded slightly. "Fair enough. Let me know if you change your mind." he took a deeper breath. "There may be a little paperwork for the resignation. I'll try to get that to you this shift, and I'll make sure you get paid out for your time." There was a slight parental tone to his voice, like he felt like she was making a poor decision, but would not fight her on it.

Florence shook her head. "He decided he was the captain." She seemed about to add something but shrugged. "It doesn't matter anyway, I wouldn't want to work like that."

"I hope you reconsider and stay, I think you will be an asset to the ship."