Ghent, as instructed, meets Redthane at the airlock and welcomes him aboard.  Then, after a simple "This way, please," Ghent leads Redthane over to a nearby lift and up to the Upper deck.

     Ghent then leads Redthane out of the lift car and into an area that is lavishly laid out with an eye towards luxury.  Good carpeting covers the deck, the walls are paneled in--is that real wood?!--the lighting is tastefully subdued, plants grow from pots and wall sconces, and the air is clean and scented with something herbal-but-invigorating.  The light sound of water tinkling over rocks can be heard in the background.

     Redthane is led aft, through a wide companionway lined with stateroom doors--the whole scene looking, to Redthane's eye--as if he were walking through some high-class hotel.  After several steps, the central companionway opens up to a larger space, laid out as a high-end luxury lounge.  The huge, curved aft wall must be a holographic display screen--because currently it was showing a view of deep space with a massive image of some kind of stylized bird, it's wings spread wide, superimposed over the space scene.

     In the center of the chamber is a large--maybe three-meters wide--circular table.  Three people are sitting across the table from an empty chair that Redthane is led to--and his eyes are immediately drawn to a damaged and fire-scorched cybernetc arm laying on the middle of the table...

     Miria's arm.

     "That will be all, Mr. Ghent.  Thank you..." Captain McFarlane says.

     Redthane catches that the speaker has a definite Imperial sound to his voice, but mixed with something else...

     Redthane brings his gaze up to look over the three people across the table.

     The one who'd just spoken was a human male--he still had his right hand raised, making "shoo'ing" motions at Ghent.  That one was half-dressed in what must have been some kind of ship uniform--it looked like he was wearing a finely tailored, cream-colored silk shirt and a military jacket of some grey-green material with lots of gold braid--but bearing no awards or identifiers.  The Jacket was simply draped across his shoulder and worn open at the front.  A peaked officer's cap, in the same color and material, was cocked at a jaunty angle, atop his immaculately groomed brown hair.  The only symbol on the cap was a replica of the bird icon, displayed on the back wall.

     To either side of the man Redthane now recognized as the Captain he'd been comm'ing with, a short while ago--sat a person wearing armor.

     To the captain's left sat someone wearing what Redthane recognized as a hardened space suit--which was decorated as if an entire paint store had exploded around it, depositing an eye-rending number of colors upon its surface.  Though this person was seated, from the shape of the helmet Redthane was able to discern that the wearer was a Vargr--which went a long way to explaining the armor's paint scheme.  Unfortunately, the visor on the helmet was darkened, at the moment, so Redthane wasn't sure if it was a male or female Vargr.

     To the captain's right sat someone in what looked like some kind of body suit, including helmet, made of a rugged synthetic material.  The body suit was entirely black--bits of it being either glossy black or matte black, depending upon their construction.  Judging from the way that one was sitting, and adding in the flat chestplate on the armor, Redthane guessed it was likely a male, probably Human...but he allowed that it could still be a woman...

    "Captain Ferrick Redthane," the Captain seated in the middle said, in that condescending slow drawl of Aristocrats everywhere, "Once again, I am Captain Theodore McFarlane.  I welcome you aboard my Vultan.  Please, be seated..." Captain McFarlane gestures across the table, towards the empty chair Redthane is standing next to.

     As Redthane takes the seat, Captain McFarlane continues, "You are correct when to accuse us of being here to collect the Bounty on your head--although we are not Bounty Hunters.  I believe you made a claim that you possessed something that would be worth, I think you said 'ten times more'--or, was it one hundred?  No matter.  I've decided to hear whatever it is you're trying to say, Captain Redthane..."

     "Please, enlighten us..."

     The black armored Human crosses his arms, his helmet's dark faceplate never wavering from pointing straight at Redthane. The colorfully armored Vargr is similarly impassive, save that his hands are folded together on the table.
This message was last edited by the GM at 00:04, Sun 26 Mar 2023.

All the while Redthane was being escorted to the briefing room, he didn't give any indications of a 'hang-dog' attitude, but neither was it resentful or belligerent. It seemed to be more of a 'you caught me fair and square' one.

"Impressive ship, Captain," he said as he took the indicated seat. "Never seen a ship like this before. Never even heard of one, for that matter."

At the Captain's request, Ferrik continued: "Yes, I suppose I wouldn't be here if you weren't interested in what I have to say. I'll be the first to admit that acquiring the value I mentioned may require some... effort. It's not like there's a starship's hold full of iridium to just grab... though that would be nice, wouldn't it?"

"Gentlemen, what if I was to tell you that Admiral Darokyn was a... double agent?"

He let that sink it for a bit.

Redthane's statement was left hanging in the air for a few moments before the brightly-armored vargr spoke. It was not quite Zhouth's voice, coming out flatter, slower, and generally sounding as though it was resonating through a rebreather before making it to the suit's internal mic for pickup. On top of that, there was none of Zhouth's customary flailing presentation. He remained stock-still, enough so that one might well wonder whether the suit's joints had all somehow jammed.

"Do you have evidence of this claim for Captain McFarlane?"

Perhaps Zhouth's suit was making it hard to look and sound like his usual self. Perhaps he'd taken something to slow him down a little for this interview. Maybe he was just putting on a herculean effort to restrain his usual habits. Maybe he was just really into acting the part. At least he wasn't hamming it up the way he had when they'd been negotiating with the Stregor.

Except for the apparent voice filter, that is. Unless he really had managed to knock the suit's mic down one of its life support tubes somehow.

"Of course," Redthane answers the Vargr. "If you mean beyond the fact that Darokyn wants me dead, then the answer is 'no' but I know where it can be had. Darokyn knows it, too."

The colorful vargr remained impassive. Once again, silence hung in the air for a moment before he spoke again. "Go on."

"The Admiral and I weren't always enemies, though I'm not foolish enough to think that he ever fully trusted me," Redthane answers. "I tend to snoop a bit too much. And I'm suspicious."

"The Admiral did a sweep of the outer system... maneuvers, he called them. It also included maintenance on a marker buoy... that never got done."

"A little off-course drift and I was able to intercept a communique between Darokyn and what I can only guess is Imperial Intelligence via that buoy. They seem to be supporting and funding his pirate activities."

"The recordings are still on that buoy."

Teddy looks back and forth between Varca and Zhouth. Then he looked 'through' Redthane and let Varca ask about where the buoy was if he cared. It didn't sound like that big of a bargaing chip to him, though a pirate on Theev might care. He'd get a better idea if they knew more maybe.

"Go on, . . . . tell us more. Convince us please."

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 5):

     The black-clad Human to McFarlane's left turns his helmeted head to look over at McFarlane for a moment, then back towards Redthane,

     "Darokyn.  Admiral Darokyn.  The Pirate Admiral and Imperial Navy Traitor." a male voice growls from the suit vocoder,

     "You're actually telling us that Admiral Jaimie Darokyn is a double agent--that he's not only a Pirate Lord of Theev, but that he also works for...who?  The Third Imperium of Mankind?  The Aslan Hierate?  Maybe the Florian League?  No, I know!  Admiral Darokyn is secretly working with the Sindalian Empire in an effort to restore their lost glory!"

     The black-clad Human lazily raises his gloved right hand and makes a gesture as if he were waving away an insect,

     "And...exactly what is it you would have us do with this...information...which you admit you don't actually have proof of but know where to find such."

     The raised hand suddenly snaps out to point a finger at Redthane,

     "You, we get hard cash for, if we bring you to the Clarkies and Torpolites.  Immediate Money.  Tell me, Captain Redthane, how does what you offer get that for us?"

     He settles back, again crossing both arms over his chest.

     "His Lordship, Captain-the-Baron McFarlane..." he nods towards McFarlane, "Is likely holding to some fantasy that, since you are a Pirate, you have some fantastic treasure hidden away which you will, no doubt, offer us in lieu of taking you in for the Bounty."

     "Instead, we get...a story!...that the Dread Pirate Admiral, Jaimie Darokyn, is also an agent for one of the interstellar superpowers.  A story you, sadly, do not actually have proof of, but the existence of which you swear exists.  Oh, and let me guess--The Admiral is working with--who?--Imperium Naval Intelligence?  The Aslan IRS?"

     The black-clad Human turns his helmeted head towards McFarlane.

     "As I told you, Your Lordship, he has nothing!  He's nothing but a poor, third-rate Pirate.  He has no wealth other than what he carries upon himself.  I doubt that his ship is even worth enough, as salvage, to draw our attention.  And what do we care, even if this fairy tale about Admiral Darokyn is true?  So what?"

     "Please, Your Lordship, end this farce!  This...failure of a Pirate...has nothing of any real value to offer us.  The Clarkies will pay a bonus if we give him to them alive!  Let's just grab him and go!"

Teddy wonders if Zhouth will be able to get the location of the buoy, getting the ship, the bounty, AND the info is what he wanted.

He looked from Varca to Zhouth and waited for him to speak next.

OOC: Dammit!  Obviously Redthane got in a response to Zhouth while I was composing that Treatise on Interstellar Economics (i.e., my big-assed, wordy, pompous Post) up there.  Let's just pretend that Varca doesn't sound like he's running 10 seconds behind everyone else, shall we?

"You don't fool me!" Ferrik snaps back but makes no overt move. "You know perfectly well what that information is worth!"

"If you want an in with the pirate organization of Theev, this is it! You want a trade advantage, this is it! If you want to upset the entire applecart, this will do it. Who knows what you could dig out from the wreckage?"

"Just keep in mind that you are in the same position I was in when I got the intel... albeit with a better ship... and then I lost Misery's Company. Miria was working on that."

"I was tempted at first to ask 'Did you have to kill her?' but given it was Miria, there would have been no other way. She wasn't right in the head, of course, but I liked her."

"Anyway, I was working on my Grand Scheme when you caught up to me. Part of that was an ally... well, working partner might be a more appropriate term."

"If Clarke be my fate, so be it."

"Now, as for the hoard of treasure the Captain-Baron thinks I have, really? Would I still be doing this if I had that much money? Though I've speculated on occasion how much that would take. Haven't come up with a number yet."

"However, I do have two words for you: Treasure Ship."

"To return to the original topic," the brightly-armored vargr stated, still sounding rather flat and disinterested, and stock-still besides, "Why wouldn't the Admiral arrange to delete the recordings, or destroy the buoy, if he knows that you're aware of his messages there? He has had plenty of time to do it."
This message was last edited by the player at 01:46, Mon 27 Mar 2023.

     Varca keeps his face turned towards Theo while Redthane espouses the value of the Darokyn data--feigning indifference--but then...


     Varca makes a dismissing gesture towards the cyber-arm,

     "We tried to recruit her away from you, of course." Varca sneers, "She foolishly chose to remain loyal to you.  She and I then played a short game of handball--with a live grenade.  I won..."

     Varca continues to appear to be ignoring Redthane--until the pirate says those two little words...


     Varca's helmeted head turns to look directly at Redthane so fast, his whole body seems to jerk in his seat.

     So, while Zhouth is asking about Darokyn erasing the message buoy, Varca is simultaneously asking,

      "What's that about a Treasure Ship?!"

Teddy, while looking aloof and indifferent, alerted at those two words, Treasure Ship. He didn't move, he didn't speak, but he was so alert, a spider taking a step on the ceiling he'd have heard as a loud noise! "Well that begins to convince me. Keep talking Captain."

In reply to Theodore McFarlane (msg # 14):

     "You couldn't lead with that?!" Varca demands, slapping the tabletop (it doesn't even vibrate) in frustration,

     "Instead, you give us that Darokyn crap?" Varca morosely shakes his helmeted head (but, behind his darkened faceplate, he's smiling).

     "But please...don't let me stop you! As His Lordship has requested, do keep talking about this Treasure Ship..."

"When we was over on Airunisiir, we grabbed a rumor about one of the Treasure Ships having engine troubles," Redthane continued. "I wasn't the only one that had the same idea, though perhaps one of those craziest to think it."

"Next thing I know me and Hroal are planning it out. He's already got ships in the region."

"He was content to go for the mid-cargo, but I was thinking of hitting the vault."

"The satellite." It sounded like a statement rather than a question, but it was one that remained unanswered nevertheless.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 17):

     Varca looks over at his Vargr companion and nods in agreement,

     "Exactly." Varca says out loud, "Exactly!"

     Varca turns back to Redthane,

     "We had gained some intel concerning this subject.  But it was very vague.  What you're telling us is even more specific than what we have." Varca leans forward in his chair,

     "And by saying you were planning a raid on this Treasure Ship with Hroal Irontooth, an Aslan Pirate, makes me think that you must have even more information about this Treasure Ship."

     Varca raises a gloved hand as he settles back in his seat,

     "But before we get more info from you about the Treasure Ship, I would like to ask you something ... personal, if I may..."

     "Why did you choose to partner up with the Pussy--I mean--the Aslan?  Does he have something that would give advantage in an operation like this?  Would you be willing to double cross him and work with us?  We'd make it worth your while..."

Teddy sits back in his seat thinking, right hand rubbing his chin.

"The buoy is still there. The universe doesn't work the way you think it does," Ferrik answers. "You can't just go running off on some hare-brained whim. You got responsibilities, logistics, accountability..."

"Rumor has it that Hroal's got a new ship."

"Hroal stumbled on a grouse at the Great Bird. Greased a palm, soon had two more. That's his inside team on the Magdalena. From there, he started wondering if that was enough to crack the Treasure Ship. Decided it wasn't but couldn't let it go. He needed some help. It was between me and Vallis, apparently. Miria was making the final deal. Would have got me back in."

"His inside astrogator was to cause a misjump to the outer Tech World system where his ships are waiting. Saboteur fugged up... no misjump... blew the damned J-drive. So Magdalena is sitting on backwards Arunisiir waiting on parts! One Gazelle on overwatch."

"So try to take it there... or at Tech once the drive is repaired in 5 weeks."

"Hroal would have protected you from the Admiral. Not simply used and discarded you." Aside from his ongoing and uncharacteristic statue impression, the delivery was once again strangely flat to anyone who knew Zhouth - Redthane, of course, did not.

It was also, once again, a question presented as a statement.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 21):

     Varca slaps his hand down on the surface of the table, then points it at Redthane while turning his helmet to face his companions,

     "Frack it!  I like this guy!" Varca says with enthusiasm, "We got him dead to rights--and here he sits, actually trying to Play Us!  He's got a Massive Pair to even try it, but, dammit, he is right!  He's holding the winning hand, here!"

     "I say we let him join us." Varca says to his companions, then stands up and starts walking toward the galley unit,

     "Can I offer you a drink, Captain Redthane?  We picked up a few top shelf items when we stopped at Torpol..."

Teddy sits there contemplating. "How many ships with the treasure ship, and how well armed are they, or don't you know yet? Just that one Close Escort? No more?"
This message was last edited by the player at 16:42, Sat 01 Apr 2023.

In reply to Theodore McFarlane (msg # 23):

     The rain in Spain, falls mainly on the plain.

"Treasure Ship's usually travel in a flotilla of 6 additional ships. Two Gazelle's are dedicated guardians."

"Current situation has that all screwed up. Rest of flotilla continued on due to VIP, but it'll be back."

"How many ships--if you hit it--will depend on where and when you hit it."

In reply to Ferrik Redthane (msg # 25):

     "What's your Poison, Redthane?" Varca calls over his shoulder, via his suit vocoder, as he approaches the Galley Unit and reaches out to activate a display screen.

     "We have a few different brands of beer we've picked up along our travels--we even have a couple of containers of a porter from Theev.  Something called Widows Tears...I haven't tried that one yet, myself.  We also have a handful of fine whiskeys, including King's Reserve, a fine whisky from Drinax.  Or, we have some Old Dog temporal tonic wine, if you prefer something stronger."

     "If you prefer something lighter, I'm having Vilnaf--it's a slightly alcoholic refreshment of Vilani origin, I believe.  It reminds me of a beverage I enjoyed back on my homeworld."

     Varca makes a selection on the display,

     "Would you care to have one with me?"

"Well Capt. Redthane, we're interested. Very interested. Would you be willing to introduce us to Hroal Irontooth? We could work out all of the details together then. I intend to get VERY rich, this will go a long way."

Zhouth remained stock-still as the interrogation turned into a welcoming committee, his statue-like attention on Redthane the entire time.

"I think you've got the wrong idea here," Redthane says. "I gave you this information to buy my life so that you wouldn't just shoot me outright or blow up my ship."

"It wasn't to buy my freedom; I already accepted that was forfeit."

"I wouldn't believe any false hope on that account anyway."

"I doubt you'll run into Hroal on the way to Clarke anyway."

In reply to Ferrik Redthane (msg # 29):



     "We aren't expecting to run into Captain Hroal on the way to Clarke." Varca says, turning away from the galley unit and walking back to the table with a narrow champagne flute in each hand, both filled with a pale, milky-looking beverage.

     "Besides, we wouldn't take you to planet Clarke!  If we turn you in, it'll be to planet Torpol's law enforcers.  But honestly, Captain Redthane, we're hoping you might consider introducing us to Captain Hroal yourself--in person."

     Varca stops at the edge of the table, just a step away from Redthane, and offers him the flute in his right hand.

     The faceplate on Varca's helmet silently swings up, revealing his Vespexer features,

     "Here, try this.  It's the Vilnaf I mentioned.  Light and refreshing.  I think you'll like it..."

     Varca takes a sip from his own glass, then turns to return to his seat.

     "Okay, just so I'm clear on what I think you just said." Varca says, settling back into his chair, "You are convinced that there is no way for you to escape from this capture; that no amount of wealth will sway us from collecting the Bounty on your head.  Therefore, all this information you are giving us is a form of--bribe?--to us in an effort to ensure that we will not choose to hand you over in a dead condition for the bounty, and that we similarly take no violent action against your crew."

     "Would you say that that correctly sums up what you are attempting, Captain Redthane?"

      Varca takes another sip of his drink, a slight smile on his now-exposed face.  A smile that does not reach his red-orbed eyes.
This message was last updated by the GM at 04:42, Tue 04 Apr 2023.

You have no trouble knocking out Redthane with a drink. You're not quite sure he wasn't expecting it.

Aaron comes in, makes sure Redthane is okay, and then transfers him to coldsleep.

Zhouth visibly relaxed - and became his more usual, non-stiff self - once Redthane had been safely taken away, although he made no move to start doffing his armor, choosing to rely on the three-person secure channel that they'd been using while his usual wild gestures picked up.

"Okay, so we're just going to keep him frozen until we hand him over, right? Are we doing that on Torpol or Clarke?" He held up one hand, palm upward, then the other, as if presenting the planets themselves in the process. Then he bounced both back and forth as if engaged in symbolic planetary juggling. "We have more of an arrangement at Torpol, I suppose, although they'd have to ship the body over to Clarke to be monumentized afterward. Also, he seemed to be okay with the idea that he'd be put into a block, which means he's either completely crazy, or thinks it's the least-bad that could happen, or has some kind of clever scheme to make sure that it doesn't happen, and I'm a bit worried that the clever scheme could happen before we get there, you know?" The vague juggling act ended with a rapid clap and double finger snap.

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 32):

     Sipping from his glass of Vilnaf, Varca raises his eyebrows in surprise at Zhouth's query,

     "I...don't know." Varca responds, setting the glass down, "Torpol offers the larger Bounty.  Now that I think about it, are both planets offering their bounties independently, or have the two planets made some kind of arrangement?  I don't think we ever asked..."

"I don't think that they'll like us chopping him in half and delivering half to each of them," Zhouth's glance and hand-wave toward the cryo-tubes matched an obvious tone of distaste for the idea. "Suppose that we bring him to Torpol first. They pay out, and then we take him to Clarke next to be made into a stonesickle?" His hands went back to holding planets, bouncing one and then the other in a way that would surely have been unhealthy if actual planets could be juggled so. "It'll be much harder to ship him if we do it the other way around, not to mention the problem of Torpol identifying him through all of that... whatever it is they use?"

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 34):

     Varca nods in agreement,

     "I agree.  We take Redthane to Torpol--but we only approach the planet with Vultan.  Mercifuge and Janal Torsk both participated in the attacks against each planet.  I don't care how unlikely it may be, I don't want to take any risk that either ship could be impounded by either planet as evidence, or whatever..."

     "That makes me think--we're going to need to rename those two ships, and that means getting their Transponders re-registered. We can probably get that done here in Pallindrome System, at Astrogo Downport.  Orrr...do we wait to get that done until after we find out if Fat Oleb is going to use our Letters of Marque and make us hand over the ships to him as Prize Vessels?"

     "If he's anything like his Ancestors, the Damn King will probably take the ships as Prizes, then turn around and 'sell' them back to us, in lieu of giving us our share of the loot from this mission in actual cash!  And then order us to get them fixed up!"

     "So, anyway, first we bring Redthane to planet Torpol aboard Vultan, hand him over to them and collect their reward--all the while getting copies of their criminal intake process, their identification verification, everything they do to prove he's the guy they want."

     "By now, the Torpolites--Torpolese? what the frack do they call themselves?--probably know by now that Redthane is also wanted on Clarke, and vice versa.  We take all the records we get on Torpol over to Clarke and use them to claim the reward there.  We leave the resolution of who gets to take him to trial, and who gets to imprison him, to the two governments."

     "But we will put a little bug of a suggestion in each of their ears to let Torpol do a big Show Trial and then let Clarke put him in carbonite, or whatever, for however long he's sentenced to--if the two planets haven't already thought of that, themselves."

     "Everyone's happy and all thanks to a Privateer out of Drinax."

"Not a privateer!" Zhouth exclaimed, waving his hands side to side. "A courier that just happened to be in the right place to enact justice! It's not like a regular merchant out here wouldn't also do it, given the chance! Never mind that they mostly wouldn't get the chance."

"Anyhow, Oleb wants money. Us getting ships isn't money, it's how we get him more money." Both hands switched to the signature finger-rub of coins being polished. "He only expected a tenth of the bounty. We've not only brought that, but more than doubled the future earning power, and confiscating the ships wouldn't make that any better. Besides, he's going to need a deniable fleet, not just one deniable ship, if he wants this all pulled off."

In reply to Zhouth (msg # 36):

     "I truly hope that you're right, Zhouth." Varca says, "And that my abysmally low opinion of the Damned King isn't the more accurate."

"Let me talk to him if he turns out to be grumpy about this." One could hear the smile in his words even if the helmet precluded seeing it. "I can probably make him see sense as long as he isn't the completely hostile type like Miria, and if not then talking to Rao about it works too, right?"