"Ladies and Gentlemen.  We have begun our descent into the Wyltz atmosphere.  We will proceed to oceanic tube one which will deliver us to undersea city Wyl Hall.  As you know, Wyl Hall is starting it's annual Shrimp Fest culminating in the Round Water Races.  If you're here..."

Blah blah blah.

Looking overhead, BB can see the Void turning into the milky blue of Wyltz's sky.  Nero is checking a comm message that just buzzed in.

The Hotel D'Ourve is reconfirming their reservations.  With the Shrimp Fest, it's always necessary to confirm and confirm reservations again and again.  Rooms are at a premium, and the hotels are always willing to kick you out and sell your place to the highest bidder.

A steward comes along, offering any last minute drinks.

Nero's line buzzes one more time.  It's Lyza Ogden with the race committee.  I received notice your liner is entering atmosphere.  I will have a driver meet you at the low port.  Just check in at the arrival transportation desk and they will page the driver.

Thanks again for stepping in at the last minute.  Mr. Erskine's surgery went well.  He should be up next week.  But of course that will be too late to serve as a judge.

I'm attaching the rules and regs.  Please review.  Let's meet for dinner this evening to discuss details.  I look forward to meeting you.

Bixy called you yesterday to see if you were still coming to town.  One of the Round Water judges had come down with an impacted gall bladder or some such.  And the Race Committee needed a stand in.

"So come on.  Do me a solid here."  Bixy sounded like he was past time for his jones.  He always sounded nervous and twitchy when he was past time for his jones and that's how he sounded on the line when he talked ot Nero.  "It'll be easy peasy.  You stand around in a high class box, sippin' champagne and pinchin' some fine ass.  You watch the race.  Then you gotta certify the results.  But it's really just a formality. The computer takes care of it.  But the auditors require three sign offs to release the money."

He means the betting pool.  All credits bet on the race, officially that is, get held by Wyltz Credit and Trust.  An independent auditing firm verifies the race results and instructs the bank to release the funds for pay outs.  The judges act as a separate set of observers to authenticate the results.

Two days of partying and stuffing all the best seafood in the system into one's gullet and then standing around all day, getting hammered and watching the race.  What could be better?

---

We are number 84 in the queue Mainframe informs everyone.

Tia's trip out to Wyltz has taken less time than orbiting, waiting to get the all clear from Wyl Hall Control to start descent.  The planet is almost obscured by all the ships waiting for the same permission.

So I checked with the Low Port.  They've got 64 open berths.

And that's been the question.  Apparently this Shrimp Fest is all the rage.  And berths are premium.  As is hotel space.  The Low Port isn't taking reservations on the berths either.  It's first come, first serve.  Which is an advantage here.  Otherwise, there would be no hope in hell for getting a dock.

As it is, it's a question of whether there will be an open space from a departure by the time Tia's turn to descend comes up.  If not, Tia goes back into the queue and waits for the next go around.

There's chatter along the comms.  Sounds like a few captains are willing to sell their place in line for the right price.  But those are turning into a bidding war.

There is another option.  One of the liners has a few open seats.  They're making noise like they're willing to sell them if somebody wants to go down to the planet themselves but leave their ship in orbit.  The liner only has a couple of seats though.

I'll keep monitoring the station traffic, Fritz says.  But it's gonna be up for grabs.  If this wasn't a water world, and the city weren't undersea, I'd just say park it.

"Yo yo yo, Knights. It's your boy Nero here coming straight at you from Wyltz. We're bought to check out some straight up underwater action!"

Using subtle motion controls Nero activated a macro that would cause the camera to zoom in and out rapidly on his face as he made an overly exaggerated surprised face.

"For those of you just checking out my stream for the first time, I'm Nero Madigan and you, my lovely audience, are my NeroKnights. I'm on a pan-galactic tour checking out the craziest, wildest parts of the Imperium and bringing you daily holla holla holos! Right now I'm on the wah wah water world Wyltz. This planet's got it all. It's got all you can eat shrimp, it's got underwater racing, and it's got me, your boy Nero whose going to be a genuine J-U-double-D-Judge at the event so if you're in the sector send me a DH. You know the drill, if you do something insane crazy I'll make sure to put you in the outro. Now check out this NeroKnight who is going to dump mayonaise down his pants. You'll never believe what he does next and if you want to support the stream and keep the adventures going make sure to like and subscribe and accept notifications. Most importantly, don't forget to BUY THAT MERCH Peace out till next time!"

Nero folded his arms across one another and help up his signature hand sign. He froze that way to make sure the camera got a good clean image of him and then with a flick of his finger the camera stopped recording. Nero let out a big sigh of relief. He hated to doing multiple takes and despite the insane number of jump cuts he put into his holos a lot of it was done in only a single take.

Now that his business was out of the way he went onto his phone to message back that he would accept the position. Once again his family name was opening up doors but he didn't mind. Chances were just as likely they were interested in him for his holostream channel: Nero Takes On the Galaxy. Any day now it was going to blow up and he was going to go right back to being a celebrity, getting buckets of credits dumped onto him to just  live a life of luxury. Any day now. It might not have happened yet but viral success was only one more piece of content away.
This message was last edited by the player at 00:48, Wed 08 July 2020.

BB sat quietly in her seat trying her best to pay attention to her surroundings while avoiding listening to anything Nero was saying. He would record himself two or three times a day and listening to him always took a strain on her psyche. If the Madigan's weren't paying her as much as they were she would have left Nero to die in some starport months ago. Still she had been hired on to do a job and she was going to do it, even if she wanted to blow her brains two or three times a day.

Ledo leaned back in the pilots chair, staring up at the ceiling. Of fucking course there was Shrimp Fest going on. Of courset there were a shortage of berths.

"Tepha, run a sensor sweep over the ships in front of us. See if there's anything interesting that might let us cut in line."

"On it..."

OOC:
19:53, Today: Tepha Pezal rolled 4 using 2d6+1.  sensors check.


Ledo started thinking back to his various encounters with pirates. Maybe there would be a way to spook some ships out of line and back to Wyl. Some kind of signal they could put out that would make people think pirates were incoming but nothing that would get the Navy up their asses over.



19:57, Today: Ledo Typhin rolled 11 using 2d6+02.  tactics navy +1 +1 Int.

Rig was down in his room thumbing through the Wyltz shipping and docking manifest looking for a loophole. He had been reading the thing for hours and so far hadn't made much progress but with nearly 800 pages of regulations to go through perhaps something on the next page might be useful.

OOC:
19:58, Today: Gary 'Rig' Rigan rolled 9 using 2d6+02.  Admin +2 EDU.

Silver was in her bunk as well, smoking a joint as she tried to type a message to her brother. Every time she started it she paused and deleted it wondering why Tepha wasn't the one reaching out. She hadn't exactly left company with Rezan on the best of terms, he hadn't really forgiven her for joining the police, even if it was only temporary.

Finally she just let the weed do the talking and just rattled something off and fired it before she could doubt herself for the nth time.

Yo bro, you got any hooks in Wyltz? I landed on a ship and we were attacked by some cybered up psychos. You interested in the leftovers?

In reply to Nerotes Madigan (msg # 2):

There's too much traffic.  Tepha can't really get a good looksie inside anyone.  Either there's bleed through from the ship parked next to the target.  Or the target is crazy shielded.  Or there's too many warm bodies on it.

---

Ledo studies the scanner readings.  Wyltz is encircled by hoops of Durinium Chromium Alloy.  There's a naval cruiser parked on the other side of the world.  And three quarters of the traffic are geared out with at least a minimum comportment of guns.  Pirates attacking Wyltz at the moment would be suicidal.  Besides.  Doing anything to spook the herd would results in a stampede.  There would be at least four or five guaranteed collisions.

A few options besides the ones he already knew about seem possible.

First, there's good ol' hacking.  If they can hack the order in the Down Port's mainframe, he could bump himself up.

Second, There's good ol' fashioned bribery.  Maybe just pay some of the ships ahead to stand aside.

Third, the most complicated choice, is identity theft.  Alter Tia's ID signature to match one of the ships with an earlier slot in the lottery.  When they get called up, move forward.  Of course, something would have to be done about the original ship.  But it might be easier to spook one ship as opposed to dozens.

Just a few ideas.  You've got options.

---

Really?  It's that simple?

Rig blinks.  It couldn't be that simple.

During his review of the manifest, he noticed something odd.  Some ships that were already docked got booted, even though they had paid for long term parking.  The reason?

Contestants in the race needed the slots.  It seems Down Port is prioritizing entrants in the race.

Checking the system shows entrance into the race is open to anyone with a grav bike.  And 7000 creds for the entry fee.  There's also a requirement that the entrant have a support crew for the race.

But yeah.  Sign up for the race.  Get a berth.

That is your call.  As I said before above, there are other options

---

A message pops.  Re:  Your Warehouse Invoice

Mr. Madigan,

Please remit funds for this month's rent on your storage space...

The bill for his merch storage has come through.  A quick glance confirms what Nero already knew:  he's paying 500 credits more for storing his merch than he is in sales revenue.  When he'd been manufacturing on demand it had been worse.

The guy with the mayo down his pants cribbed his act off another video making the nets.  It's funny, but it's been done.  And that old twat who posts holos of her cats dressed up in vacc suits is still beating his numbers hands down.  Hell, even the Vargarian Cooking channel is getting more hits.

The Race always posts big numbers.  It's the system's version of the Galactic Cup after all.  But everyone and the clones of their grandmother's is doing holos on the race.  How can he come up with something more...dynamic?  Something to really boost his coverage over the top?

---

The guy in the red faux leather jacket is making another pass.  BB keeps him in her sight.  He's gone up and down the aisle five times now.  He was wearing a black jacket the first two times.  A sweater the third.  Just a plain brown shirt the fourth.  Now he's in red.

The guy isn't paying much attention to her side of the aisle.  So it seems he's not looking for Nero.  Or her.  But she would hopefully remember the guy if this was about her.

No.  The guy seems to be scanning the other side of the aisle.  He's paying a lot of attention to two old ladies who are seated two rows ahead.

At first she thought he was targeting them.  But he's too obvious.  A bodyguard?  Then why isn't he sitting with them?

The transport dips lower.  On the landing screens, the ocean is visible now. They'll have to ride up the equator to the nearest undersea elevator.  BB figures there's twenty more minutes until they're docked below sea level.

He doesn't feel like he's going to make a move before then.  But then again...

---

She hits send.  The message to Rez heads out along the nets.  If Rez is on Gohature or one of the moons, he should get her call tomorrow.  If he's here...

Silver stares down at Wyltz.  She's never been here.  Rez always said it was too touristy.  She's seen some of the races.  Probably bet on them.

Her comm dings.  Did he respond already?

There is a message.  It's not Rez.  The sender's handle is just ICU

So sorry we missed each other back in the Hanna Why.

Was so happy when I saw your name on the crew list for that ship.

I'm so very, very happy.

I'm grinning ear to ear.

Do you like grins that go ear to ear?

I hope so.

I'm getting you one for your birthday.

It's been so long Silver.

So very, very long

S

Rig forwards on the official race registration information up to the bridge and hits his comm.

"Captain, we might have a way to skip the line..."


Rig goes on to explain how easy it would be to register. They have a bike, they have  racer, and they have a support team. 7000 credits and they are good to go.

Ledo had quickly called Rig up to the bridge for an all-hands-on-deck meeting.

"Alright let's start by outlining our mission. We have two lines of credit that we can pursue. The first is that Silver has a contact who is an inside access to the race and might have information about the race financials. My guess is that we will end up with one of three options: gambling on a rigged race, stealing the prize money, or stealing the bets. All of those represent a considerable amount but if the information is good might be worth the risk.

The second job is to track down a soon-to-be-ex-husband and deliver these divorce papers."

Ledo drops the cube down on the table in front of him.

"Rig has discovered entry into the race is quite simple and that would not only allow us to bypass this line and dock but also get us better access to the race itself. We don't have to win but we do have to look like we know what we're doing. So we need a racer and a support team. So who here has experience with a flyer..."

Everyone raised their hand. There was a moment of surprise but then again everyone had come from a developed world where a flyer was necessary to get around.

"Alright then. First of all, Rig you're probably out. While I don't doubt you have skills you'll be needed in the pit crew as well as probably be integral to working with Fritz to bypass any security that is in place. Likewise I will probably be busy coordinating the two teams so I probably shouldn't be the racer as well. I can be the team coach."

Tepha and Silver looked back at one another, unsure as to who would speak next. There was a brief staredown before Tepha lowered her hand as well.

"We probably aren't going to be going in guns blazing so my background is probably better suited for focusing on the heist then on the bike."

Silver gave a shrug and everyone looked back at Ledo for direction.

"Well we don't know what the heist will require. We can fill out Silver here as the main racer and Tepha will be the backup driver, in case our primary driver comes down with a bad case of "needs to point a gun at someone-itis".

Alright everyone we have a lot of work ahead of us then. I'll fill out the paperwork, Rig I need you to get the bike tuned up and ready for a race. Tepha you get to be our marketing department. We need a team name, a logo, the whole works."

Tepha balked at her part of the orders.

"I don't think I'm very qualified to..."

"You were an artist, right?"

"I mean yeah but not that kind..."

"We're all outside of our comfort zone. Do your best. I trust in your creativity."

Her further protests died in her throat as Ledo leaned into his "Captain" voice to let her know in no unclear terms that this was an order, not a suggestion. He used that tone so rarely with her it caught her more by surprise than anything else. Almost on impulse she found herself heading back to their quarters to begin working.

"Alright then. Silver, you need to start practicing so you can at least pretend to be a decent racer. I hope all those virtual games you play are paying off."

"Fuck I don't play racers. Not enough violence."

"Well time to expand your library. I'll let everyone know when we receive a berth and are ready to land."
This message was last edited by the player at 21:41, Thu 09 July 2020.

Tepha was on her way back to their quarters marching almost on autopilot. The "Captain" voice was so effective at moving her around it was almost like magic. She was nearly at the door before a surge of anger boiled up within her. They were supposed to be lovers and partners. This ship had been as much her idea as his so why was she marching around like a soldier.

Still despite the hit to her pride she did acknowledge there wasn't much else she could do at the moment and given Ledo was going to be busy getting them entered into the race, Rig was doing his mechanic stuff and...well...given how Silver dressed it was clear she was not very aesthetically minded. Looking at it logically she was the best choice to make them look professional but even still there had to be a better way to tell her to do it, right?

She figured a couple of days of silent treatment should be enough to convey her dissatisfaction. She didn't want to force Ledo to give her special treatment just because they shared a bunk, but she was a bit upset that he didn't seem to feel the need to give her special treatment.

"Hey Fritz? Are you there? Want to help me design a team name and logo? Maybe you can assist me with some of the graphic design work..."

After a bit of brainstorming she came up with the idea of the Rift Riders designing what looked to be a speeding blackhole tearing through space.

Next to her Nero was browsing through his holo feeds. There was no better tried and true source of "inspiration" than looking through other people's streams. Maybe there was some hot topic he could jump on. In any event BB couldn't care less about his click numbers, she had a job to do.

There wasn't any reason to act just yet but the guy was suspicious. Security had made her pack away and disassemble her weapons but their scans hadn't picked up her knife. They never did. It was really just a piece of thin carbon cleverly built to provide a sharp and stable point while being almost invisible to scanners. Strapped on the inside of a meaty thigh and unless they got really up close and personal with an inspection it just blended right in with the rest of her outline.

Unfortunately that location made it difficult to retrieve in an emergency. Now that she was through the inspections however it was easy enough to take a quick trip to the restroom, partially disrobe and readjust the knife to the loop on at the small of her back. Still not very obvious and if someone decided to be stupid and pull a weapon she would have a five-inch rebuttal aimed right at their guts.

In reply to BB Nova (msg # 11):

After the momentary discomfort and feeling of immense relief, BB situates the knife, flushes the sonic commode, and walks out into the lavatory, standing in the short line to wash her hands.

When she comes back into the cabin, she can see Red Leather is now Tan Jacket.  Where the hell does he do all these wardrobe changes anyway?

He stops his patrol of the alleyway and leans down to a man who's sitting behind the two women.  There's a quick muttered conversation and then the man gets up and hurries away, glancing over his shoulder.  Tan Jacket sits down behind the two ladies.

"Ladies and Gentlemen.  Welcome to Wyltz.  We will be docking at Berth 22C.  If you have luggage or parcels stowed with us, they may be claimed at Courtesy Desk C."

The signage for disembarking should light up in the next minute or so.  Tan Jacket, not paying any attention to Nero or anyone other than the two women, stands up...

And all his clothes flicker off.  His costume changes were because he wasn't wearing any.  He's just got a holo projector hanging around his neck.

He leaps into the aisle right beside the ladies and starts gyrating his hips.  "BUGGA BUGGA BOO!  BUGGA BUGGA BUGGA BOO!"

The disembarking sign comes on and he springs down the aisle, shaking his admittedly well endowed dip stick.

Behind Nerotes, a voice says, "Yo Yo Yo!  Live and just for you!  Another pranktastic prank by the Bugga Boys!  Join us all this week as we Prank! Wyltz! Live!"  The voice drops in decibels and tone.  "Cut. Print.  Download."

A guy walks up the aisle, the only person in the cabin who's moved since naked guy sprinted away, chuckling.  He stops by Nero, reaching up to take off his sunglasses.  It's Byrum Bugga, head of Bugga Boys channel.

He glances at Nero, snorts, mumbles "Buy the merch...", puts his shades back on, and walks out of the cabin.

---

I still say we should capitalize on Silver's propensity for violence with something like

Silver Sixguns!  She's blow the competition away!

Because let's be honest.  How can this situation not end up in open gun play?

Seriously though, I like Rift Riders.  Here's your logo from a variety of angles.  How about this shade of blue to make the black hole stand out.

Tepha?  Are you okay?  You sound a little down.

---

It takes only a minute amount of paper work. Silver is registered as an entrant.

The Committee issues her a contestant number.  Entrant 13.  She will need to have the number 13 displayed prominently on her uniform.

Downport issues berthing instructions.  Tia will take berth 14C.  All cargo and racing equipment should be checked at Courtesy Desk C.

BB Nova twitched, just for a second, when the prankster made his big reveal. Her training kicked it but she caught herself before she had risen up from her chair. That boy was lucky she wasn't paid enough to handle a lawsuit because she would have loved to make him piss himself with a dagger to his throat.

BB ended up just rolling her eyes instead. She had seen more dongs waved around during boot camp to last several lifetimes.

Nero wasn't taking it well at all.

"I wasn't recording...son of a bitch I wasn't recording! Motherfucker..."

He started punching the seat in front of him. He had turned off his camera to work on the editing.

"This is the worst day ever..."

Nero slouched down in his seat, covering up his mouth with his hands so he could muffle the stream of curse words streaming out from him. Being on a Bugga Boy video would have definitely popped his stream count. It was his golden opportunity and he had missed it by a minute.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:19, Fri 10 July 2020.

Tepha spun the logo around, making a few last minute shading tweaks.

"Yeah...no. I don't know. It's just everyone else has a thing to do. Ledo's the captain, Rig fixes everything, you're a literal computer and Silver kicks ass. What do I do? If I wasn't sleeping with the captain there is no way any of them would hire me for this job. Sometimes it is fine and I know I can add value but sometimes like this..."

She spins the logo around again.

"Sometimes it feels like they just have me do stuff to stay out of their way."

She let out a sigh and then another as she straightened up in her chair.

"It looks good with the blue Fritz. Good eye. Alright, let's go back up and see what else they need me to do. Maybe I can make them sandwiches or turn down their bunks..."

Ledo hit the comms to let everyone know what was happening.

"It worked, Rig! We have a berth ready for us. Everyone buckle up as we're going in fast before anyone changes their minds."

He said they were going in fast but he wasn't going to exceed any safety guidelines. When there was wiggle room though he opted for as speedy as possible.

Courtesy Desk C is a really a room and not a desk. Large and circular, kiosiks line the walls.  One side is for baggage and parcel claim.  One side is for cargo and equipment check in.

Out front of Desk C is a large display.

<Red>Now serving:

Baggage Claims for guests arriving from Berth 21 B, 22 B, 22 C

Cargo Check in for the following ships

Jackson's Hangover

The PanAseryn Princess

Tiamat's Flight

Argent Moon Blue Sun

It's been crowded for a good while now, mostly due to the influx of people from the arriving transport ships.  But it's starting to thin out now.

Nero and BB got held up like everyone else in their cabin with the general hub bub after the prank.  They've been waiting at the edge of the platform for the lines in front of the kiosks to die down.  Their chance is coming up.

As Nero checks on his channel, he happens to glance up.  Bix is walking across the room, headed for the commercial check in kiosks.

---

I'll meet you at the Cargo counters.  Look for the guy in a blue hat.

Bix messages Silver when he gets the message.

There's less of a wait due to passenger volume on the commercial side as much as there is a wait just for the hassle of logging cargo and equpiment.  Rig has to check in the bike and racing equipment, going over all the machinery with an inspections official. The same with any cargo that Ledo may want to sell.

Silver and Tepha both happen to glance up at the same time.  They see a guy in a blue hat walking into the luggage check area.

Nero sees Bix at the same time Tepha and Silver do.  Bix is closer to Nero at the moment.  The room is pretty large.  It's basically a luggage carousel and warehouse receiving area.  So Nero and BB can call out to Bix.  The Tia crew will need to mush over to him or wait for him to come to them.

Before departing Ledo consults with Tepha for a minute before posing a question to Fritz.

”Hey Fritz. Tepha won a small electronic cat. It seems to have some kind of internal programming so I was wondering if you wanted to take a scan of it and see if this is something you can ride along with. Otherwise if you send Rig some hardware specs we can look at getting you into a proper body again. Something small and discrete so you can still be part of the expedition. We want to view you as a real partner and getting you the ability to, within reason, leave the ship would go a long way towards that I think. We think.”

He turns to check with Tepha and she nods.

Tepha holds out the small figurine to the ship’s science scanner for Fritz to take a look.

”We want you to join us on our adventures. You’re one of us.”

Without looking Nero slapped his hand out hitting BB on the side of her arm.

”Yo Beebs. There’s our guy.”

He raised his voice up and waved his hand.

”HEY! BIXBY! OVER HERE!”