A Tale of Travellers (IC)

[Storm Bringer]

Fosey is a nice enough planet, once you get used to it. it's landscape is dominated by huge series of mountain ranges, some upwards of 10,000 meters tall. The valleys are vaugely alpine, with a grass-like plant covering the lower slopes, broken by only a few small bushes. were it's atmosphere about twice as thinck, it'd be a rather nice place.

As it is, the air is so thin that no animals survive here, nor do most edible plants. It's mineral wealth is rather meagre as well. enough to make supplying domestic demand viable, but not enough to make off-world export profitable.

the result is a planet, that, dispite a high level of local techology and no crushing problems, is a rather unimportant planetwith just over a million inhabitants, mostly clustered around the starport. The locals can make most of what they need, and import little, but export very little as well. Most of the income comes form the planets superb starport and attached shipyards. the majority of the population works either for the construction yards themselves or one of the supporting industries. This has led to a planetry government that prizes technical skill above all else, with formal education being geared towards producing skilled dockhands and factory workers. the relationship between the workers and the yard owners is for all intents a feudal one: the workers work hard for the bosses, and the bosses do thier best to improve the lot of the workers.

It is on Fosey that our story begins.......

[Storm Bringer]

The O'shova is a pub that caters to passing merchants like yourselves, sited deep in the main body of Fosey Highport station. One wall of the pub is a floor-to celing veiwport, overlooking the bustle of the starports main concoruse. The O'shova sells a range of beers form around the sub-sector, plus some suprisingly good fresh food. It is a popular place for traders to meet, chat, exchange news and do deals.

A observant person would note that their is a define split in the bar between two destinct types of patrons.

on one side, the patrons are grouped into destinct clusters of people. these were the crews of the large corporate traders, dressed in their company jumpsuits, working safe trade routes for their salaries. they weren't mixing with the other crews, just sitting at thier own tables, nursing thier beers,

at the other end of the bar, things were much lively. here, the patrons were mixing freely, chatting, telling stories, betting small sums on card games, and generally unwinding.

these were the free traders, crews of the smaller independant ships that run the smaller routes. They are dressed much more indevidually than the any company trader, but more importantly, they have a hard-to-define air that sets them apart form most merchant crews. That sense of being in control of their destiny, of being able to strike it rich .

We are intrested in one of these crews. they have been in the bar for the past hour, waiting for a local broker who said he had a deal for them.

and he is late............

[Silent_Bish]

A black furred Vargr looks down at the display on his wrist for the fifth time in as many minutes. Where is this guy?

He takes another sip from his beer, gaze slowly drifting the others at the table and the other free traders in the O'shova. He didn't mind the shore time, it is good for a crew to stay planet side and unwind, but work means pay and pay keeps the ship flying. That was what he found out among the stars, freedom. One of the main reasons re retired his naval commission and has avoided joining up with a corp and getting himself a matching jumpsuit. Granted, the events of his last official mission couldn't be counted out as motivation for his decision either. He will bear the reminder of that for a long time. As his mind wandered he idly scratched at the pale white skin of the scar on his neck, a constant reminder of what happens when things go very, very wrong. His thoughts coming back to the present he glances at the display on his wrist once again.

Relax, the broker is just running late, no need to get suspicious or worried. Just take it easy and enjoy the extra shore time, it will all work out. A pleasant thought, but no matter how many times he turned it over in his head he just couldn't shake this bad feeling that was beginning to form in the pit of his stomach. With a deep breath he takes another sip of his beer, trying to lose his train of thought in the air of laughter and conversation that surrounded him.

[roninkelt]

Paol sits so as to be able to see all the entrances to the room, chair backwards arms folded over the top, hands tucked into the animal hide jacket he's wearing. A sleek gauss pistol rides a tactical holster mid thigh, just about where his hands would hang when standing. A pair of tinted glasses are propped in his hair, small graphics and informatic icons flicker across the lenses. Paol is talking to his fellow crewmembers, sharing in the cameraderie. However, his eyes never rest on them for long, they habitually scan the rest of the room every few seconds. Assessing, measuring angles, reactions and threat levels.

"I hope this deal is worth it, this guy is cutting into my shore leave. I thought about doing some mountain climbing. It's not often that you get a chance to scale a 10km peak in 1G. Even if I do have to wear a mask."

He nudges the mask bag hanging from the chair back with his knee. The mask is for a thin or tainted atmosphere - it sucks in the ambient air concentrates oxy to usable levels then expels unbreatheable contaminants with the excess unusable air components. It was once explained to him as reverse osmosis for air - only the good stuff gets thru, but the process generates lots of waste. He just knew it worked, extremely high tech stuff always seemed like magic. The only problem is that the nearly ultrasonic whine of the air pump in action can be irritating to some people.

[Silent_Bish]

"Scale a 10km peak? You wouldn't catch me up there unless I was behind the stick of a slick new Aeroglider. What is it that you find up on those peaks?"

He shifts a little in his seat, feeling the weight of his own Gauss pistol in its shoulder holster press against his side, covering the move by finishing off the beer he was working on. Adjusting his jacket he again glances down at the computer's display.

"Personally, I'd prefer to be out among the stars instead of sitting around waiting for people. This guy either has no sense of time or a really bad secretary."

Or he just landed himself into a whole heap of unpleasantness and he is about to pass the pile on to us.

[Storm Bringer]

with a almost comedic sense of timing, Varnaxx's comm beeped slightly. looking at the screen, Varnaxx saw a message flash up from their broker, a irritatingly chirpy fellow by the name of Joshua Treeson.

++Very sorry for my lateness. Somthing came up at the last moment that I had to deal with. My shuttle has just arrived at Highport station now. I'll reach you in about 5 minties. but it looks like the deal is on. I'll tell you the details when i get thier.....and something you might be inrested in.

Joshua.++

OOC stuff:
roninkelt

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just for the record, fosey has a diamiter of aobut 10,000km, and a surface gravity of ~0.75g, not 1. The Station is also 0.7g, for that matter.

Silent_Bish (and lordsmoothe)

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The deal you are awaiting news form the broker on with a local heavy industial company to ship 2 small fusion power plants to the nearby planets of Bryet and mercury, about 2 and 4 parsecs south Rimward of Fosey. it's about 40 tons of material and parts, for about 68,000 credits (i.e. 1,700 credits a ton). You're expecting to have to delvier the parts to the sites yourself, but 20 tons is well within the pinnaces cargo load, so thier's no worries their,

[Silent_Bish]

Chuckles to himself as the message plays over the comm.

"Well, it seems our guest will be arriving in a few minutes. His shuttle is pulling in to Highport station now."

There, nothing to worry about.



OOC

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Is that standard pricing for cargo hauling?

[Storm Bringer]

Looking around at the free traders shows some of the considerably varity that free traders are know for: At one table, a bunch of Sword worlders are having an arm westling competion. At another, a man in a old navy flghtsuit plays a tense card game with a Vilani woman, while thier crewmates watch with good humour. Over by the bar is a throng of aslan, heartily singing some traditional Alsan drinking song (and were any of the patrons able to understand it, they would b suprised at the content of the song). around another table, three Vargr and a human enguage in a intense debate about somthing, their arms gresturing wildly as they talk.

ooc:

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slightly better than average.

standard A-to-B rate is 1000 creds for a one pasec jump, +200/parsec thierafter. normally, it'd be 1200 for the first 20 tons (to byret, 2 parsecs away, for 24,000 Cr), and 1800 for the next 20 tons (To mercury, 4 parsecs away, for 36,000 Cr), so you make about 8,000 on top of normal shipping costs, which cover the use of the Pinnace for in-system shipping and such.

for referance, you're upkeep costs for the ship are about 34,000/month, which covers basic maintaince & life support. Fuel is not counted in that, but with your scoops and internal fuel purifiers, you'd burn about 18,000 credits on fuel if you just buy unrefined form the starport, or whatever the place charges for use of the gas gaints in both systems.

in short, this deal will keep you afloat, even if you make do no other trading during the trip to Mercury. since you've still got about 100 tons of free space, you might as well try and fill it........

[roninkelt]

Paol

"Scale a 10km peak? You wouldn't catch me up there unless I was behind the stick of a slick new Aeroglider. What is it that you find up on those peaks?"

"It's the challenge of pitting yourself against something that you can't possibly beat, except in the most miniscule sense. Flying over something doesn't give the same sense of perspective. A mountain looks a lot larger from ground level than it does at 1000 meters above it."

Paol looks to Vance, looking for a cue on how to treat Mr Treeson when he arrives. Then he sweeps any detritus from the table, cleaning it up in preparation for the business to come.

[Townopolis]

Vance

Vance, slender, of middling height, relaxes in his seat. His black hair is short, about an inch, and gelled into a boyish do. His skin is tanned and slender, with an aquiline nose, slender brows, and ice-blue eyes. Today, he is wearing a business suit of the formal, and universal, style. White blouse, black slacks and jacket, blue tie to match his eyes, gold clip, and shiny black shoes. A glance from his bodyguard causes Vance to caress the place at his waist where his sidearm is concealed, running his fingers over the protective weave of his suit, and to blink, still unused to the protective contacts he wears. Vance smiles at Paol reassuringly, although most of that reassurance is for himself.

He thinks back to the speech he'd given over the ship's intercom when they'd left Mora, ending with "from this day forward, we will as we will." It seemed so far away, and he didn't feel quite as sure now.

Suppressing his nerves as he had done often before in his travels, Vance forced himself to relax again, and quietly listened to the others while he waited for the broker to arrive. Just five more minutes.

[Storm Bringer]

the time passes swiftly. slightly less than 5 minutes later, Treeson entered the bar, in the company of a man who could only be discribed as a 'suit': Slighly greying hair gelled back, razor sharp clothes in imperial formal style, briefcase in hand, unsmiling face carved from stone, the works. Treeson himself was in formal wear, but slightly relaxed: top button undone, no tie or neckcloth, and a shirt in a eye-watering shade of yellow, and was grinning his perpetual grin. he looks around for a second before spotting you, and his grin somehow gets even wider as be approaches you.

"Vance!" He says, grabbing a chair. "Really sorry I'm late, but it couldn't be helped, In fact, it may turn out for the best. Just let be get a drink. What would you like?" he asked his companion, who muttered something lost in the background noise, though his accent sounds like it's straight form Capital itself. "right, right, I'll be right back""
Treeson dashes off, and the suit sits down carefully. thier is a short, uncomfortable scilence, during which you note the telltale bulge of a shoulder holster in the otherwise picture perfect suit (which, Vance notes, appears to be tailored balistic cloth, like his own). Before long, Treeson returns with a pint of cheap local beer and a glass of what appears to be iced water. Treeson plonks himself down, and takes a long gulp of his pint.

"God, I needed that." He says as he puts the beer down. "Okay, introductions time"
This is Captain Varnaxx of the free trader Sparrow
this is Sir Vance Shotel, Baronet New Vegas, and owner of the sparrow
and These fine ladies and gentlemen are the assorted crew, whoose names escape me at this moment.
And this" Joshua waves a hand towards the suit beside him Is Mr Lancock, representative of Victory Arms, LIC, whoose is the reason I am late and has a very inresting offer we shall talk about in a moment. But first" Treeson dug into his pocket and pulled out a data-wafer and passes it over
"theirs the final details of the fusion job. 68,000 credits, in cash, payment in two parts on dellivery, to be collected from the customers. they delivery addresses are on thier, as is the paperwork."

OOC:

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treeson can be summed up with the discription "used car saleman IN SPACE".

The data wafer is compatable with just about every computer in the Imperium and most of them out of it, and does indeed contain all the details and authorisations needed to get the money at the far end.

Victory Arms LIC is a medium sized (operates over most of the sector) cpmpany that deals mostly with small arms, ammo and personal armour. They have a somewhat poor reputation for being willing to sell to 'undesireable' persons (e.g. Criminals or insurgents) but makes most of its money form above-board deals to planetry governments and Imperial licensed mercs.

[Townopolis]

Vance

As Treeson fetches the drinks, Vance looks over the crew. ~yeah, they may not look like much, but you should see what's under the hood... why does that sound dirty?~ He clears this thought from his mind as Treeson returns, and talk returns to business. Vance smiles cordially at the suit and ducks his head briefly in aknowledgment.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, sir."

Vance reaches out to quietly take and pocket the wafer.

"Excellent. I'll look over this before we launch. Now, what is it you wished to discuss, Mr. Lancock?"

As he poses the question, Vance tilts his head briefly to Treeson, but turns his full attention to the suit.

[roninkelt]

Paol

Keeps a close eye on Mr Lanock, not quite staring rudely, depending on how sensitive he is the scrutiny might be right on the edge.

Paol has been on the wrong end of some of those shady weapons deals. He's got more than a few scars caused by weapons manufactured by Victory Arms LIC. But given that the man represents a sector wide firm, he doesn't want to blow the deal that his employer is obviously trying to set up or anger him unnecessarily.

[Storm Bringer]

It is a simple thing, really, Sir Shotel" Mr. Lancock said. Vance noted (with a carefully hidden amusement) that his Sylean accent appeared to be an affection, abeit one that only someone who'd actaully spoken to a person form the core would spot.

"Victory arms has a outstanding contract with the govement of Mercury for some 34 tons of assorted munitions, which were supposed to be delivered to byret and shipped form their by the Mercury government, but ended up here on Fosey due to a incorrect shipping order. Such a small amount of cargo is not worth bothering a charted merchant over, so I came to Mr. Treeson here" Lancock guestures to Joshua."To find a merchant going in to Byret who met out safty regulations. Which, coincidently, you do. Now, the goods are to be picked up by our rep on Byret, who has an office in the captial. Due to the sensitive nature of the goods and the increased risk this puts on you, the middleman, I can offer a payment of 1,600 Imperial credits a ton for this shipment, paid on delivery. While I am aware that you are travelling on to Mercury, my contact with the mercury government insisted on delivery to Bryet. Something to do with the ongoing fighting thier. Anyway, All i really need to know right now is wether you are willing to take this shipment?"

[Townopolis]

Vance

Vance listens carefully to the suit's description of the job, calculating the potential profit in his head, then calculating the potential loss the Sparrow might incur while shipping small arms into a planet at war on behalf of an interested outside government clearly interested in supporting one side of the conflict. Come to think of it, he knew very little off the top of his head about the conflict in Byret, something he would have to investigate later. He did not have to try to look pensive.

"That is a very tempting offer, Mr. Lancock. Of course, as it does involve an increased risk to my ship, I will have to consult with my captain and crew."

Vance turns his head to connect with Varnaxx, and then the rest of the crew.

"Captain? Crew?"

OOC

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Is it possible to access information on my Comm implant?

If so, can I look up news on the conflict in Byret? I would like to if it is possible.

[Silent_Bish]

Varnaxx

He offers a polite nod when Mr.Treeson introduces him to the suit, remaining quiet as details are worked out about the fusion delivery. At least one part of this is going to go smooth...

He scratches his chin as the suit talks about the deal, taking a glance around to see if anyone seems a little too interested in their meeting. Having heard of the, somewhat dubious reputation of this company, his can't help but feel a little suspicious. The money is good and he probably has some kind of paperwork to make it all look legit, though gun running... He lets the thoughts run their course and looks to Vance when addressed, "Well Sir Shotal, as long as all the paperwork for the goods are in order I see no problem with the delivery. We are heading that way anyways and the fusion delivery is just going to be enough to cover expenses. I trust in your discretion in this matter and your ability to iron out the fine details. Safety of the ship and crew are my first concern, making sure we pull in the money is yours."

With that he looks around the table at the rest of the crew, "If anyone has an opinion one way or the other, lets hear it."

[Pickers]

Ramage had for the past 10 minutes been quietly reading a newspaper and occasionally taking a sip from his drink. Personally Ramage wasn't entirely sure what he was doing here, he wasn't Vance and he wasn't the Captain, but none the less he was still here.

Once the broker and his guest in tow had arrived he put the newspaper down and started to pay some attention to the conversation going on between the two, especially given that the guy in the cheap suit had brought an unexpected 'friend'. However what really got his attention was when the 'dealer' mentioned where the weapons were to be shipped to. - Byret. Subconsciously he rubbed his shoulder and leaned in a bit more.

"If anyone has an opinion one way or the other, lets hear it."

"Which side are the arms going to?" Asked Doran, he wasn't happy about the thought of returning to Byret, but he wasn't going to complain if the rest of the crew wanted to go with the deal.

OOC:

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Which side of the conflict did the Imperial Government side with?

[roninkelt]

Paol

looks at Vance and says, as if the rep wasn't there -

"Ask for more money."

He resumes scanning the room.

[TwoCents]

Jane, Engineer

Jane was dressed for shore leave. She attended the meeting mostly to show solidarity with the others and to be available to answer engineering questions. The meeting was just a speed bump on the way to a good time.

Her short hair, normally dark brown and often plastered to her scalp with sweat, was shaped into a crest with gel and dusted with metallic glitter. Jane's cosmetics, while applied with skill, were slightly too elaborate for true sophistication. A seductive perfume replaced her usual scent of lubricants and industrial solvents. She wore tight garments in peacock colors and expensive shoes. The only odd touches were her well worn laser pistol holstered at her waist and her emergency mask kit riding low on one hip.

Jane watched the room, looking for potential threats and trying to gauge the fun vs. danger scale of the starport in general and this bar in particular.

When the suits arrived she sat up and pretended to pay attention to the deal, although she trusted Vance to make a profitable decision. The details -- or lack thereof -- of the rep's info made her blink for a moment, and warning bells went off in her head.

"So," she asked, a little bitchily, but keeping her voice low, "Lessee if I get this. You have a contract with Mercury to deliver guns to Bryet, and the guns got here 'by mistake'. You don't want to 'bother' a commercial hauler but you figgered we're small enough to take a job, no questions asked, so why not hire the Sparrow. Okay, I got no problem with that, but I gotta ask, what's the Mercury government going to say about all this? More important, what're the Imps gonna say? Oh, and what kind of assorted munitions? Bullets? Batteries? Nerve gas?"

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Is there an embassy/consul/tourism office for Mercury, or Bryet, on Fosey?

[Hesquidor]

Farra

Farra drummed her fingers on the table as she watched the business proposal unfold. The O'shova was far too busy for her tastes and she wanted nothing more than to retreat back to the quiet of the ship.

The offer itself seemed good. Of course, Mr. Lancock was probably fudging the details. He was a company rep. Habitual lying was part of his job description.

"Oh, and what kind of assorted munitions? Bullets? Batteries? Nerve gas?"

"I would like to know that as well. What, precisely, are we to be shipping?"

[roninkelt]

Paol

"How does it matter what's in the containers? It's legal cargo, and we're shipping it. We don't own it, we don't know what's in it, and we have the admin work to prove it."

[Storm Bringer]

Mr lancock's face is apparently immovable. you'd really not want to play poker against this guy.

"The arms are for the Mercurian goverment, acting in it's Imperial Sanctioned role in the Bryeti insurgencey, with the blessing of the Bryeti government. A significant fraction of the shipment is expected to be shipped on to Mercury for exmination by the mercurian armed forces, but the mercurians insisted on doing that themselves. Customer confidentailly prevents me form revealing the exact manifest of the cargo at this time, but the shipment is mostly man-portable support weaponry, with assorted spare parts, delivered as examples of our wares with the aim of local manufacture under lisence. The price is non-Negotiable."

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okay, infodump time. the following is what is known in general, and is maybe 6 months out of date:

The Byreti insrugency has been ongoing since the end of the 4th frontier war (1084, about 30 years ago). Orginally belived to have been funded by the Zhodani, the insurgency has grown beyound those roots and now controls the majority of the countryside. the Byreti government Holds onto a circlular area about 200km accross, centered on the planentry captial (and major starport). This area holds about 50% of the population, and is resonably loyal to the imperium. beyond that area, the planet is effectivly lawless, as the insurgents have no effective civil government. they co-operate on militry matters, but the towns under thier control are self-governing with no centeral oversight.

The Mercurians are the main reason the Byreti goverment still holds on. the offered to help supress the rebellion about 15 years ago. while they hav done a lot to help, they have not the ability to maintain an army on Byret that can really drive the rebels back. effectivly, they are allowing the byreti government to substain itself by providing an army for them and freeing up the money that would have been spent on an army for public works. Mercury have a almost relgious veneration of military service, and the byreti war provides them with a much needed outlet of thier martial fevour. the net result is that the 'governed' area of byreti has a suprisingly good standard of living, as the government has funds to spare.

Offically, the imperium has not been involved in this 'internal' affair (as is its' normal stance on these matters). It has intervened twice in the past, but in both cases to remove a cleary anti-imperial rebel warlord, rather than a anti-bryeti government one (it was in the last intervention that major Rammage was wounded). unless the dynamic of the conflict changes significantly, The Imperium will keep it's hands out of this. Arms sales are perfectly legal under imperial High Law, even to insurgents (as long as they are not anti-imperial.).

The Imperium is a very hands off government.

In short, what he's proposing is perfectly leagal and above-board. the Imperial Ministry of justice is not going to be breathing down you back over this.

[Townopolis]

Vance

Vance frowns ever so slightly as the others begin asking questions about the nature of the cargo. It's something he'd certainly like to know, but he does make a small effort to show that he doesn't exactly approve of these questions, customer confidentiality and all.

Leaning back in his seat, he smooths his tie with one hand and rubs his chin gently with the other, mulling over the voiced concerns and Mr. Lancock's reply. Officially sanctioned, in all likelihood this job would bring them nothing but some spending money.

"Of course you cannot divulge your manifests, please understand it's just that some of my crew are leery of gun running."

He rolls the voiced concerns over in his mind a little more, before responding further.

"So we are to deliver these arms to your man on Byret, who will be delivering them to the Mercurian military. Sounds fine by me. Will the pickup take place at the starport, or will we need to transport them somewhere specific in the capitol? Also, are there any containment needs or risks of contamination attached to the cargo?"

[Pickers]

"For the Mecurians? Then I've no objections to this job."

[Storm Bringer]

"delivery will be handled by our officer on byret. they'll take the cargo once you get it to the starport. the shipment has no shipping hazards beyound those normally found with muntinitions, detailed here." Lancock reached into his jacket pocket and produced a data wafer which he handed to vance. [COLOR="DarkSlateGray"As it appears taht most of your crew have experience in the mititary, you should have no trouble. You don't have to make the choice right this instant. If you say you're willing , i can get the cargo out of secure storage and ready for shipment. Then, if you do decide to take the job, we can hand you the cargo within a few hours."[/COLOR]

at this point, Mr. treeson suddenly butts in

"That reminds me, it's going to take a few days for the fusion generators to clear customs."

"thier, you see?" mr lancock says smoothly/"you have a few days to make a final desicion. is it possible to get a provisional 'yes' at this time?"

[Hesquidor]

Farra

"Well, as long as it not going to give us all radiation poisoning or combust in the cargo hold then, I have no further concerns."

[Townopolis]

Vance

Vance smiles and takes the wafer, then nods slightly. He rolls the wafer over his fingers a few times, then pockets in his jacket's breast pocket.

"Well, it seems all our concerns are addressed. I'd be delighted to take you up on this offer, so that's a "provisional yes" for you. I'll run over the data while my crew takes their shore leave, then get back to you in a few days. I assume there is a contact number here, yes?"

He pats the pocket with Mr. Lancock's wafer in it as he finishes. Then, as if remembering something, he turns to the rest of the crew.

"The Captain willing, I think we can all begin enjoying our leave now, Kelena, if you could stay with me for a while longer."

[Storm Bringer]

"Thankyou. I will take my leave, then" Mr lancock said as he stood up and headed to the door. Treeson nodded, then wandered off towards the bar, leaving the crew in peace (as much as peace can be found in the middle of a crowed bar)

[Silent_Bish]

Varnaxx

Remained quiet as the questions were asked and the nature of the run was discussed. He had said his peace, safety of crew and ship being his concern not what they hauled. Keeping his own poker face in place as the rest of the crew came to their individual decisions. Government contact it is then, an interesting turn for a normally hands off organization. I'll have to look that wafer over once Vance is finished, but if he is satisfied then we just made ourselves a little extra money.

He silently watches the two suits leave, one out the door and the other to the bar. Turning back to the crew he says, "Well you heard our contact, five days to clear customs. I'd like everyone to report back for duty bright and early on day five for preflight. Aside from that, enjoy your leave".

[roninkelt]

Paol

Vance
"The Captain willing, I think we can all begin enjoying our leave now, Kelena, if you could stay with me for a while longer."

"Of course, Sir."

Paol remains with Vance, but slings his breather mask. Uh oh, I thought I was pretty good...