Timon moves a hand in a small, but unmistakably airy gesture. "Should you find them, you may keep them as salvage: nothing else remains on the planet of interest."

"Is there anything else?"

Nobody else asks a question.

"Then, gentlemen. I wish you good luck. I shall keep you all informed of updates by astropath. May the games begin."

Nobody has the lack of dignity to openly run back to their shuttle.


Nearly twelve hours later, you arrive back at your ship, in one of the massive dockyards on the edge of footfall. The warning you voxed ahead has had a flurry of activity to finish the ship's repairs, and as you approach the final welds are being made on a patch of anti-meteor sheilding. Sparks cascade down the wing of the ship, in a curtain of fire. Silhouetted in front of it is the ship's Master of Whispers, Master Aykin. He always had a flair for the dramatic.

"Ah, m'lord." He says, stepping forward and offering his hand to shake. "I hope the journey were nice. I took the liberty of doing my usual little, ah, digging. And i came up with some extremely choice information. If you'd care to follow me to the strat'garium."

The "Strat'garium" is soundproofed, and none but you and Aykin are inside when he begins to talk, after briefly scanning the room with a bug detector.

"So, my lord, we got a fast ship. We'll have no problem in a straight race to the font. But it aint a straight race, and everyone knows that. Thanks to that gen'lemens agreement not going through, we aint got a hope in hell in a stand-up fight. So we need ter think curvy. This is o'course all subject to what yer lordship thinks, but you know i got a good mind so i'm lettin yer know my thinks."

"Firstly, our opponents. Van Haal, Lady Brass, and Navigator Peverell have all got full-size battleships, and some fleet support. On the plus side, that means they're slow, on the minus side that means they could squash us like a bloodfly. With luck, they'll deal with each other. None of 'em have much reason to worry about anyone else."

"Larsen and Valaxus each have a collection of small ships. They can move fast. Far as i know neither of them has any idea about the outworld. Helligan sisters have a raider each, and are most likely to be working together. Our real threat though, is Tyle. She's outfitted as well as us, but she's likely to be gunning for us in particular. This game is a great opportunity for us to be wiped off the map, no questions asked."

"So. Curvy thinking. I been getting all the information i can on the Outworld. There aint much to be got, but i found three people who can give us a big advantage, if we can get'em on our side."

"Firstly, Navigator Belladon. Back before Timon was the only person interested in the place, Belladon navigated a few expeditions there. He's about the only person in the subsector with much knowledge of the warp around there. If we want to save time on our warp transit, getting his charts or speaking to him will speed us up a lot. He's currently on-station on an imperial ship orbiting the space hulk RTB01, located in the halo of the footfall system."

"Second, Adlai Mordechai. He's an archeotech expert. If anything's known about the font or its surroundings, he'll know it. Codes or special 'quipment might be needed, and if so he could get them for us."

"An' finally. You'll be so proud o'me m'lord, if i do say so meself. I outdone meself this time, if i do say so meself. I found us a member of Timon's survey team. The tracker, the one who found the font itself. 'Er name's Skr'ivva, of nomad clan Taar. A kroot, and you know what they say about Kroot. She's on footfall right now, and all. If anyone can find us the font, she can."