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Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Mahan Upper City, Blacksand City, Theev 019 (Harrier, Week 3, Day 6) 1105, Imperial The offices for the Murghen Consortium are easy enough to find, located only a few blocks over from the Grand Hotel. You can't help but come to realize just how useful a landmark that titanic structure is as you navigate the numerous halls and passageways under the blue-white light of the star above. When you first approach, the front entrance seems made entirely of glass, with three sets of double-doors side-by-side that admit foot traffic as it comes and goes. It doesn't seem like a great deal of business travels to the Consortium by foot, as only a small handful of pedestrians come and go at any one time. All of them dressed in the sort of corporate attire you've been surrounded by since stepping out of the downport hangars. And while the guards who stand at the door wear nice suits and don't have any visible firearms or weapons at hand, you can guess they might be better armed than their appearance suggests. Heading into the lobby, there are multiple cubicle-like set-ups that flank the main thoroughfare and the front desk located centrally in the space. When you let the front desk clerk know that you'd like to speak with a representative for business and licensing purposes, you are asked to have a seat for a few minutes and advised that one will be with you shortly. A 'few minutes' turns out to be closer to 20 before an inoffensive man in a matching suit approaches, addressing you by the name you provided to the agent at the front desk, and ushers you to one of those aforementioned cubicles. Glass doors slide open, and he motions for you to take a seat. When you do, he presses a few buttons, and the windows on three walls of the cube - as well as the door you just came through - seem to be marked with a thick, foggy distortion of gray. You can still make out shapes and general motion on the other side, but little else. By way of explanation, asked for or not, he offers with a smile, "At the Consortium, customer confidentiality starts at the door." As you explain the purpose of your visit, he is tapping at a computer on his desk, watching you in the corner of his eyes. As you explain, his eyes widen for a moment, but he settles his expression once more, "Well. I see. Well, if you are looking at establishing yourself in the field for work as a mercenary, you would need to submit for a license with the Guild. That wouldn't necessarily be something within our purview." But as you further explain, or rather as he processes what you said more specifically, he purses his lips, "Well we of course have contracts with various agencies, but I wouldn't necessarily be at liberty to discuss the nature of all of our clients. Operational privacy. You understand. But I can assure you that we only make business with legitimate agencies - GeDeCo and similar. We aren't ones to support illegal operations, after all. Did you have... specific concerns?" Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Rahne, Kesper Upper City, Blacksand City, Theev 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial As you travel the upper city, you find yourselves venturing to the Cliff District when seeking out munitions for purchase. You quickly learn how aptly named the region is. Many of the structures are just on or even extend out over the edge of the cliff. More than one of the expansive windows let you look down at the bulbous dome of the Lower City while you walk between shops. From up here, so much of the Lower City is yellowed 'crete and dirt paths. The people among the streets are dark, small figures that dart between doorways. They look like ants. And judging from how little attention is given by those who pass the two of you, they're given the same level of regard in the day-to-day. You are able to find some decent options, if a touch on the pricier side, and when your purchases are made they offer to have the weapons you purchased sent to your vessel. But it is as you continue to shop and take to the streets on the search for other vendors and sources of information, you can first take notice of the Widow. Or Widows? It can be nearly impossible to tell, given that each one you've seen so far has been near identical. And when following, they seem to linger perhaps a block away, always watching you so closely. Yet never drawing closer. If they have ill intent, their expressions are neutral, and they don't have any weapons at hand. Yet outside of that new tail, which you may or may not find disconcerting, the broader city lays open before you. Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Urien, Eirene, Dazl Lower City, Blacksand City, Theev 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial As Urien introduces the trio, the woman before you gives a toothy scowl. You can see the metal caps and the rot of poor care. She keeps her arms crossed, "You got a pit pass?" She scoffs, "Yer' new meat, so I doubt it!" And she invites herself to prod Urien in the chest rather aggressively, punctuating her words, "No pit pass, no pit!" And with that she waves out towards the street, "Buzz off, new meat. And take yer' livestock with ya'!" In the meanwhile, the two of you can keep ready enough eyes on your surroundings through your own means. Eirene can keep a reliable eye on the tail peeking around the building. At this range, its possible to make out at least some details. Urien is able to patch into the drone that he cast up to the nearby rooftops, providing a broader eye out towards surrounding crowds.

Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene, Dazl, Arryn The Downport, Theev 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial That shadowed face turns to Eirene, "Perhaps it is wise to simply... avoid such trouble." And there's the grin again, "Do your part in respecting the law and order, and the Lords will take note and act accordingly." The presumable leader of the trio once more regards Mahan, "As said, your fees for this visit are to be considered waived, Captain, and the hangar falls under the express interest of the Law of the Lords. Be well." And with that, they turn about to leave. The leader is the first to turn. It is not until she has more or less reversed their formation that the other two turn to follow. Until then, you are all watched by those two grinning, shadowed faces. The trio march in lock-step just as they arrived and make for the door. If any of you call out or try to garner their interest before they leave, they don't seem to notice. And the door shuts behind them with a sort of grim finality. The 'silence' from atmospheric support systems reigns once again. Dazl glances to Mahan, and quickly signs, "Open killer / trade / closed killer two?"An assassin in the hand is worth two in the shadows?"" Arryn pulls a shop towel from the front pocket of their coveralls that they had tucked away on their way out, and resumes wiping at their grease-stained hands. They look up at the ship that still sits poised above all of you, "I - I'll stay here. Keep working to fix the ship. If - if you can get spares? That'd help. With the engine." And with that, Arryn moves to return to the ship and their hide-away in the ship's engine spaces. Around you, a few of the banners shift from air vents, and other than that it seems your crew and ship have been left alone again. Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Rahne, Kesperziaiepr The Upper City, Theev 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial It is not far out from the hangar and into the Upper City proper that you shed the burnished metal surfaces and utility workers of the downport, and you find yourself in the sleek tiled floors and 'open' windowed walkways of the main city. The Upper City - the 'safe' part of Blacksand - is a corporate enclave or a high-quality hotel. Stepping out from the hangar where you directed, its only a short walk through the grease and grit-stained halls of the 'working' sections of the downport before you are stepping into pristine corridors that seem like they might all lead to comfortable meeting rooms or entertainment suites where businessmen and diplomats can meet on matters of presumed importance. Everything from the signs advertising business to the chatter that you hear on the street seem to speak in some measure of circumlocutions. You can find any number of air/raft cab services, and trams that connect to any number of locations throughout the city. All of it under the transparent windows of the city's life support containment, with the pale blue-white glow of Theev's sun adding a strange tinge to the orange and black sands that surround the city. As you travel, looming over you, there is a glittering tower of glass and metal that you can see from almost any major walkway or storefront as you travel. And while the city is absent of the tourist materials at every corner that you could find on Torpol, there are several maps that show you the general divisions of corporate properties in the Upper City. And these maps mark that massive tower as an 'independent property' called the Grand Hotel. Looming over the whole city as a modern-day Sword of Damocles, glinting in the sun. Further, you can notice that there is a general division for public sales of goods. If you want something more conventional such as a breathing mask or any number of toys and general items? There is likely a storefront somewhere in the Upper City that you can find it if you are willing to put in the legwork. But for the more... dangerous? The more possibly illegal and, perhaps, 'kinetic'? For that, you would need to venture to the businesses that call the Cliff District their home. And beyond some odd looks from suited passersby that a Traveller should come to expect, you find yourselves left to your own devices to do what you will. Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Mahan, Krrsh The Downport, Theev, 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial Waiting for the bulk of the crew to depart - specifically, one of the bulkiest members of the crew to depart - you can head back aboard the ship and make for the low berths. Arryn is tucked away in one of the engine spaces, having been busily trying to assess and correct the damages done to the ship's M-Drive by their former masters. They are far too busy there to even notice as you take the necessary time to cycle the pod you had ushered Krrsh into previously until he's able to be brought to his senses. With a grateful sigh as he breathes his first breath of 'fresh' air in weeks, the Vargr is eager to clamber out of the low-berth. Though he itches at his fur. He didn't strip down to little or nothing as is common practice for low berth stowage, and he's already feeling the consequences as physical sensation comes to him with an incessant itch. And while he acts mostly eager, there's a slow-lifting nervous air about him. Almost as much surprised as he is relieved to see that he has woken up on Theev. Obviously, he hadn't lied about the location of the fuel dumps around Theev, but even then he was gambling on being out cold during a jump into deep space and it feels nice to know that the numbers came up in his favor. He quickly checks over his belongings and then he follows you out of the hangar and into the city proper. The two of you are able to get aboard a metro shuttle and take it to the main transit hub where you can part ways to go about your determined missions. Krrsh leaves you with contact information for him directly, to include a comms line that you can double-check there on the platform without any issues to be had. He also provides you a small list of other names. He advises that most all of them are in the Lower City, where he intends to head. He explains that because of the nature of the Lower City, he can't be sure how many of them are still around or in a position to be able and willing to help him. and he intends to find out. If they are still around, he will make sure that they have means to find or contact him as well in the event that you can't reach him directly for whatever reason. With that, the two of you part ways. You take to the bars and clubs of the Upper City to mingle among patrons who work to relax for the day, and you ply a silvery tongue. Matching somebody drink for drink can be difficult if you decide to make a lunch of it. But the trick is just to make them feel as if you've matched them as the conversation goes on. You are able to get a few drinks, some even for free, and before long you're able to spend a productive afternoon putting together some information on key sources of power in the city. Theev is home to numerous corporations. Anybody who has anything to do that needs lots of open space and a lot of funding should consider coming to Theev, according to many. There are numerous corporate investment and development sites, financial developments, and more. And just about every major megacorporation in the Reach can be found here if they pass a certain nebulous threshold. The biggest of those in terms of influence on Theeve are known to everybody. The first is the General Development Corporation - GeDeCo. Primarily invested in freight and passenger transit, GeDeCo is one of the most well-established companies in the Reach, and one of the only ones that offers through-line transit services between Imperial Space and the Hierate by way of the Reach. It is rumored that they have agreements with the Lords to secure some means of protection from piracy. Other rumors claim that they even have several floors of the Grand Hotel reserved exclusively for their own employees and guests. The second corporation with potent influence on Theev's politics is Pentex. The Pentex Corporation is something of a heart to various shell corporations, though their primary investments and developments are in the various fields of engineering - civil, chemical, medical, military. Their offices here are one of the few open Pentex developments, rather than one of their many subsidiaries. And while powerful, they aren't nearly on the same level as GeDeCo, locally. The third and final corporate entity is the Murghen Consortium. Led by Johanna Murghen, the company is one of the largest mercenary units in the Reach. They have their own ships, and last quarter reported that they had somewhere close to a thousand trained and experienced soldiers in their employ. They acted as security for many corporate sites on Theev, making a pretty credit. The Council of the Lords is the next thing you learn of, and its three seated members. The first, you already heard of. Admiral Darokyn, a former Imperial officer. He has the largest and most notorious fleet among the lords, with a core of former Imperial sailors who make up his most veteran crews and trusted lieutenants. Allegedly many of them, and not too few of the ships he makes use of, were taken with him when he went AWOL from the Imperial Navy. The second is Petyr Vallis. The first thing you learn about him is that some have given him the nickname of 'Tic'. The second thing you learn is that nobody around the bar has ever called him that to his face, and they've never talked with anybody who has. The second thing you learn is that he has certain... opinions, on the Aslan people. His crew are by-and-large just this side of reavers, some say. Most stay up in orbit, around the Skull. The third and final member of the Lords of Theev is Hroal Irontooth. As best as anybody can tell, he's the most conventional of the three pirates. He came into the trade by way of a hunger for power, glory, and wealth. These days his crew are a mix of various species, but its said his original crew were exclusively Aslan when he first crossed the border from the Hierate. And the pride of his fleet, you likely passed by in orbit without even realizing it, some say. A 1200 d-ton Halaheike-class pocket warship. Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Urien, Eirene, Dazl The Downport, Theev, 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial Access to the Lower City is a bit different than getting about the Upper City. Where the Upper City has a great deal of train systems, air/raft taxis, and other services, there is only one way for the general public to get from the Upper City to the Lower City. There are three massive cargo platforms - affectionately called 'The Drops' by many locals. They are run more like public transit lines than more traditional elevators, with scheduled times for departure and arrival, and warning signs as you approach that warn those unfamiliar with the Lower City that the Lords recommend anybody going into the Lower City have a breather mask in the event that the protective dome over the canyon is breached. Masks like ones you can get readily enough from aboard the Reclaimer's Intent. There is a small crowd gathered in front of the blast shutters of all three when you approach. Most of them seem to be the surly and weather-worn sorts that both of you can recognize as the common masses of the working class. Who else would they be? Anybody who can afford one of the air/rafts or shuttles down to one of the 'secondary' accessways to the canyon, do. The general public? They take the lift. Followed by Dazl close behind, the three of you can shuffle on with the general crowd when the shutters come open with a warning tone to announce the elevator's arrival. After a small wait, a klaxon sounds, amber lights strobe overhead, and the shutters once again close. The elevator lurches and begins its slow descent into the poorly lite shaft. Unlike much of the Upper City, there are no efforts to conceal the piping and duct work that keeps the city alive, here. The only steps towards decoration are the bare industrial lights you pass periodically, and the markers that tell you just how far down you've gone in altitude periodically. When the lift comes to a stop, the klaxon sounds again, and shutters lift to reveal the Lower City. Almost immediately, you are blasted by the sharp heat and cloying dust that the Upper City's more focused life support keeps at bay. As you step out, you slip from the 'safety' of the lift's concrete facade to stand in the shadows of the cliff, with a thin blue dome that crosses from one side of the cliff to the other, and the concrete face of the lift's housing has numerous atmospheric pumps whining as they work, causing the red banners that hang beside them to flutter and shift. Each pump is clearly too small for the space they are set to fill. All around you are tight-packed buildings, made of stone and set dirt. Largely tans and yellows, accented with the same black rock on much of the rest of Theev's surface. The streets are filthy, dark, and crammed with all sorts. Dazl grunts with frustration as he has to stand partly cocked to the side behind the two of you if he hopes to avoid bumping into anyone and everyone that the three of you might pass. The crowd you came down with are the first ones to shuffle off, and then waiting crowds pass the other way. Finding the Blood Pit is easy enough. In the central area up above, there were advisories against visiting the Pit. And they were so helpful as to provide overhead photographs and drawn maps identifying specifically which building you were to avoid. As you make your way through the streets, you find yourself passing a large diner of some sort with a neon sign depicting a bucking centauroid and labeling the place as 'Tuk's. The sounds of diners going about an afternoon meal carries out onto the street through open, but barred, windows. And so does the scent. You both recognize it, but neither of you can place from where. And when you approach, you see a massive circular building. The core is three stories tall, with wings surrounding it that are one to two stories in height. The whole thing is made from a yellow-gray 'crete and is designed in a manner that could charitably described as 'brutalist' - with thin slights around the center that you can assume are windows, and a massive red banner that waves in artificial breeze over the main entryway. The crowd also thins out here and is organized into small cues. A semi-circle of personnel covered in all manner of scars and tattoos and leather armor form a semi-circle in front of the building with various small guns, cleavers, and pipes in hand. They seem to be responsible for inspecting the traffic that comes to and from the Pit. Assuming you don't try to force the cordon, you are soon met by a rather short woman with a fallen mohawk of fiery red and toxic waste-green. She sneers at you as you all approach, flicks her eyes up to Dazl behind the two of you, and only snears harder. Arms crossed over her chest with a rusty foot-long cleaver in hand, she regards you with glare, "Hey, new meat. What's the business?"

Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Downport, Theev, 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial The figures stare at each of you. This close, you should be able to see through the shadows thrown by their hoods, but even now they are masked in darkness. As Mahan gestures for a hand, a gloved hand is extended in response. The grip is rather firm but when Mahan kisses the back of the gloved hand, the faintest hint of a smile can be seen under the shadow of that hood. When presented the opportunity to answer, the shadows over her face flicker and fall away as she pulls the hood down to reveal sharp, pale features. Curly red hair, short and tucked back into a ponytail, and a pair of cold gray eyes that do not carry the smile on her lips. Her smile is the glint off the edge of a razor. "You find yourself in a land of laws, Captain. Under this banner you are held under the first law - the Law of the Lords. This is the law of the Upper City, and any building which might bare the red banners. This is the law against murder, against weapons fire, and against anything which might offend the calm and tranquility of the city. The flags may shift, but the Law does not change its letter. And anywhere else on Theev? Beyond the Upper City and anywhere that does not carry the banner? That is the second. The Law of the Street. Under that law, you are only restricted from any weapon that might breach the city's environmental containment." And it is only then that her smile reaches her eyes, "And punishment for violating either Law is quite simple." One of the two at the rear shifts from looking vaguely forward, to specifically watching Urien. As if perhaps the cough and the whisper didn't mask as much as he may have thought. The leader of the trio regards Mahan, "There are few gangs worth noting. Crews are another matter. But perhaps you should be mindful. Direct questions on Theev are likely to end... well." The grin returns to that face, a knife drawn, "Why discuss such ugliness?" She watches Mahan again, and after a moment, "For the duration of your stay here, on behalf of the Lords of Theev, you may consider your docking fees waived, and your vessel to be held under the protection of the Law of Lords. They enjoy finding... independent spirits, come to Theev." She draws her hood back up, and the shadows return to her features, "Is there anything else you require, Captain?"

Deep Space / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2217) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene Parsec 2017, Sindal Subsector 019 (Harrier, Week 3, Day 6) 1105, Imperial Jumping into uncharted stretches of deep space is a risky venture in the best of situations. But doing it on the guide of a starved and stressed, possibly traitorous, pirate, under duress and a looming threat of death? Well that is just a whole other kettle of fish. Jumps like this can always be nerve-wracking. If the jump is inaccurate, the vessel is left floating in deep space, with centuries of sublight travel ahead if ever hoping for salvation. It isn't a risk for a crew to take on lightly. Krrsh, in the deep freeze of the low berths, has little to say on the matter. The Reclaimer's Intent comes out of jump with a flash and a burn. The whole affair is silent to any outside observer - though some theorists claim that if it were possible to come out of jump in an atmosphere that the release of energy would be so loud as to permanently deafen anybody within 50 miles. With nothing but open vacuum all around, a sensor sweep is required in order to find the claimed fuel reserve. At first, the scope is quiet. Dark. Nothing to be seen when the Reclaimer's Intent first sweeps its surroundings. An hour passes. Nothing. Another hour, still nothing. And then, finally. There. A return on the sensors. The fuel dump is almost the exact same temperature as its surroundings. But once Urien is able to get a lock on it, a full picture of it can be painted. To make matters worse, there is seemingly no light save for what comes from distant stars to illuminate it as it drifts through space. It isn't until drawing closer that it is possible to make out the faintest signs of a sparse collection of guidance lights that indicate fuel pump hook-ups. The whole assembly is little more than a large collection of hundreds of 4 d-ton hydrogen storage tanks that must have taken a great deal of time and effort to assemble. And as per Krrsh's instructions, you already know not to trust any of the fuel that might be drawn from it as random tanks are seeded with heavy compounds in the hydrogen meant to sabotage a jump engine. Arryn isn't keen to volunteer for the space walk, giving the rather run-of-the-mill spacesuits in the airlock a wary look. But even without the new engineer, who sequesters themself to the engineering spaces to monitor fuel flow rates, it can be done easily enough. With the Reclaimer's Intent reduced to what is best known as 'station-keeping' thrust, approach towards the dump is understandably slow, but once actually close enough to jump from the airlocks to the tanks with a tether, the refueling itself goes... "quickly". 14 long hours pumping in fuel. Mercifully, the fuel pumps are purifying it almost as soon as it gets in the tanks. But until then? Among the hired crew, Arryn busies themself with the engineering for much of the day. They quietly sweep and tidy up, walking from one side of the cargo bay to the other as they work. When that is done and there isn't any more work to be found at the moment, they take to tidying up their assigned stateroom. Something they spent much of the week in jumpspace doing before. And when that is done, they take to sweeping the corridors and checking the levels on the cleaning bots as they trundle about on each deck of the ship. Then cleaning the bridge. The common space... Dazl spends several hours practicing physical training in the cargo bay, and when that is done he goes to the common space on the second deck where he produces a small pack of playing cards and intricately carved wooden chips with Trokh script on their faces. A small bit of gambling, playing with any of the crew who wish, though he doesn't express an interest in actual credits changing hands. When the tanks are full of filtered fuel, with the systems showing no unexpected issues, Arryn pings the bridge from engineering, "T-Tanks are full. Can prime it all now for - for jump." And with that, the ship can start jump preparations. Something Arryn gladly takes to as the ship's engineer. Drifting away from the fuel dump to escape its small jump shadow, the ship hums as the J-Drive comes to life. Inside, the lights flicker from 'jump-dimming' for a few moments, and then with a very real and physical shift in everyone's belly, the ship disappears in a flashing ball of cracked hydrogen. Onward, towards Theev. Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Downport, Theev, 019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial Coming out of jump in the Theev system, bound for the mainworld of the system, it isn't long before you can see the various ships and stations of the system start to pop up on the scope. While the massive titans of 40,000 or more d-tons aren't as common in her orbit as one might expect for an A-level starport, it seems that the orbital traffic more than makes up for it with the sheer number of smaller vessels that come and go from her. And two transponders, more powerful than all of the dots and tracks that cross the screen before Urien's eye, stand out most of all. The first? The Theev Highport. A hulking station that is oriented in geosyncronous orbit over the Downport. A decision that both eases traffic between the two points, and allows the two to provide mutual protection against orbital and ground-based threats should the need arrive. Say, should the Imperial navy finally decide they've grown tired of the criminal den and jump the gap - or overcome whatever it is that seems to have them stay their hand. The second? The Skull. A massive asteroid in the measure of thousands of d-tons, captured and towed over many years and at great expense into a stable orbit over the mainworld. So aptly called because its outward-oriented face resembles a cracked and weathered human skull, leering out at all those who might approach without permission. A highport as well, it serves as a greater assurance of defense further out than the 'main' highport. Krrsh warned about it. It was why he said the code he provided would be so important. As you draw closer, inevitably you will come within the sensor range of the billion-ton monstrosity. Just a few moments more and you are pinged on comms, "You're new to this port, Intent. Care to identify yourself? If you don't mind." The controller drawls as they speak. You are given a prompt on your system to enter a landing request code. The code Krrsh gave, which he said was a general landing code, can be punched in quickly. After a few moments more, the controller speaks again, "You're clear, Intent. We'll send you routing for the downport. Welcome to Theev. Mind the Law." With that, flight data is projected for you by the highport's automated systems. Plotting you a route in amongst all of the orbital traffic as it comes and goes. But it becomes apparent as you slot in to the designated path that you seem to be given some degree of priority. The package name for the guidance data sent to you is labeled 'Greenline Express' and it seems you are one of the few ships on it, passing by some of those heavier vessels, and slipping between bands of orbiting traffic all jockeying for positions to and from one port or the other. All under the watchful eye of the Skull. When finally breaking atmosphere, you draw nearer the city, and you can make out some details. Towering spires of black metal and glass stab up into the sky, glittering under the sunlight. Around them, hab-domes stretch out over the orange sands, and you can see paths - covered and uncovered - that connect them all. Further, the city disappears into the shadowed depths of a jagged canyon where you can make out some ships coming and going from docking spaces buried in the cliff face. But your directions have you heading for the upper portion of the city. The landing pads you are directed to look like a swarm of titanic black scarabs closing in on the city from one direction. As you draw near the landing pad indicated by traffic control, heavy blast doors part, and landing pad lifts to meet you. You are able to land easily enough, and once secured in place the pad slowly lowers back into the ground. The blast doors come to close overhead and you are surrounded by total darkness. It isn't until the landing pad settles back into place, jostling the ship slightly, that lights outside kick on. You are in a rather standard-looking underground hangar. To the bow of the ship is the entryway that you can presume leads out into the rest of the downport. External speakers will pick up the sound of something popping. Spaced out around you, banners unfurl. All around the hangar, surrounding the ship. They bear no sigil; no mark or crest. They are massive, crimson banners. Nothing more, nothing less. The doors open slowly, and a trio of figures step in from the comparative shadows of the passageway outside. They march in lock step, one leading the way with the other two close at their flank. They were heavy black robes with hoods pulled up that conceal their faces in shadow. And when they approach, their leader stops with toes on the boundary where the landing pad meets concrete. The three stand stock-still and wait patiently. From here, you can see gloved hands clasped in front of each of them. The first of you to step from the ship draw the focus of the lead figure. A soft, feminine voice comes from speakers by the banners, "Reclaimer's Intent. Welcome to Theev."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Raider Base, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 5) 1105, Imperial The captured raiders are moved aboard the Reclaimer's Intent with little issue. They grumble and protest amongst themselves, with a few offers of the bounties that Chief Keia might give for the safe return of the crew and information on the lowport's defenses. And unless one among you has a protest about it, the typical response from Dazl is a rifle stock between the shoulder blades to usher them along. This then leads to a blindfolded raider cussing and stumbling to try and keep their feet under them. And, finally, with their hands secured by their own manacles and with your ship's junior-most marine keeping an eye on them, they are sat in the cargo bay. On their knees, ankles crossed. Heading to their camp - the closer between it and the downport - is a quick matter. When you arrive, you find what is obviously a purpose-made clearing amid densely packed forest near a coastline. The landing space is barely the size necessary: big enough for the Reclaimer's Intent, and perhaps some smallcraft, but little else. On the flight in, on a small rise overlooking the landing, you can almost immediately spot the torpedo barbette with the naked eye that Urien detected earlier. It sits, silent and unmanned. And just off of the landing area, under the watch of the launcher, a small collection of pre-fab structures have been set up and clearly serve as housing for the raiders. Beyond that there are the pumps and hoses that betray the presence of buried fuel tanks - 25 d-tons, still sitting full with a hose run out to the beach only 100 meters away. The living space is a shared barracks. Functionally, it looks no different than a collection of 6 staterooms, compiled into a single structure like a semi-private barracks. You can pilfer through the packages and wrappers of pre-pack that has been left about, through various personal belongings. Most of the rooms look as if they weren't being used for living out of, and yet somehow they all have the 'lived in' mess. Clearly there wasn't much respect given for reserving the facility for the future use of others - who wouldn't love to find a crumpled up crisps packet in their newly assigned bed when they land? Sorting through it all, you find an assortment of valuables, credit chips, and other goods that come up to Cr 11,000 in value, all together. You can also find the magazine for the torpedo barbette, a buried space just large enough to pack six torpedoes and allow someone to enter and retrieve them to rush them up the hill to the barbette. In total there are three standard torpedoes loaded in the barbette, another three in the bunker, and three standard-charge multi-warhead torpedoes. It is clear that the raiders did not expect this to be used in anything other than an ambush against the rare one or two ships that might ever discover their base. Over the course of a few hours and with tools available aboard your own ship, you are able to disassemble the barbette in order to load it and the ammunition into your cargo bay. Barely over 4 d-tons in all when it is packed up for transport. You even have time to take the full 25 d-tons of fuel to filter it if you wish. And from there, it is a simple matter to return to the downport with your prisoners and your newly acquired loot. Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Downport, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 5) 1105, Imperial Troops of the Borite's militia, charitably - some would say - called the Borite Self Defense Force are waiting for you as you land when you announce your return. Lieutenant Selly is among them, having actually put on the jacket that identifies his rank and post now, and with a shotgun in hand. He looks like he is ready to spit venom when the cargo ramp opens and he sets eyes on the raiders. As soon as the first of them are shuffled down the ramp, he gestures to the quartet of men with him, and they step forward to take charge of the prisoners. Held under guard, they are kept while the town guard bring up a prison wagon. They are likely to face a trial, Selly offers. And the noose, after. Arryn is left with you. They nod gratefully when unbound again, and with the blindfold removed. From there, it is just as simple a matter to spend the rest of the day ferrying the hold of the M.V. Delta Vee from orbit down to the surface. Anything that isn't kept aboard in the cargo bay of the Reclaimer's Intent can have a home found for it under some lean-to structures that are sure to shield the contents from any harsh weather. Though when asked about any rental fees for cargo storage, a gray-bearded old man who acts as the closest thing the downport has to a customs official - that being, the owner and operator of the nearby coachhouse where Mahan spent several days hunting for buyers - gives a dismissive wave and a huff. The fees are quite literally waived away when discussed. In all you find yourselves in the possession of: A collection of missiles - 2 decoy missiles, 2 multi-warhead missiles, and 6 standard missiles. More than replenishing what was 'lost'. A pair of Vanguard-style air superiority fighters with naval-style folding wings and turbo-prop engines, armed and loaded. A pair of GVR MiniCOIN grav flyers, armed and loaded. A single cargo-variant air/raft. A single passenger-variant air/raft. Two armored vans, nearly identical. A 6 d-ton ultralight fighter, with a pulse laser in a fixed mount. 12 d-tons worth of small-arms, munitions, and related equipment. There's also the computer programs you recovered, for use in a starship: Fire Control/3, already installed aboard the Reclaimer's Intent. Battle Network/1 Anti-Hijack/1 Not a bad haul, once all is said and done. Though Dazl does insist to remind you all that - as per his request - at the very least the weaponry and vehicles be offered to the people of Borite in sale or trade. Though he is not against the idea of the Reclaimer's Intent keeping the ultralight for yourselves as even he can see the people of Borite don't have much in the way of support for the small craft. And look how something more than six times its size fared against your ship when the pinnace met the business end of your barbette. But the MiniCOINs and the prop-fighters? The vans? And most importantly, the bulk munitions? Surely all of that will be useful against the next raid that comes along. Beyond that? After an evening's rest once it has all been brought down and either stored nearby or aboard the ship, you can all rest. Any who seek to rent a room at the coachhouse to have a change of pace from sleeping aboard the ship will find that the rental fees for the evening are met with similar huff and disregard by the old keeper. Likewise, meals are provided by a grateful Aman. Thin tins that are covered with cheese cloth and packed full of roasted bird and vegetables, bread, and a few assorted treats. She doesn't stay to join you, stating she has to tend to other matters, but she makes her thanks known before she leaves you all. Arryn and Dazl it remarkably similarly, it is easy to notice. That is, stooped over their plates and shoveling it in as if it is the first time either of them have had a meal in days, with cutlery held more akin to a shovel. And while Dazl is built like something resembling a load-bearing wall, a glance at the wafer-thin blonde shows that assessment might not be too far from the truth for them - sunken cheeks, dark bags under the eyes, and an overall thin frame. Shortly after her delivery, Administrator Ura arrives with four bottles of dark, sweet, potent port. And a heavy leather satchel containing Cr 5,000 in gold bars, stamped with the seal of the Borite Continuation Authority. One is the agreed upon payment, she offers, and the other is a gift from the as yet unmet miners for the work done. They all pitched in to make sure that the team responsible for the job was properly compensated. Of course it is easy enough to get glasses for the port - either from the coachhouse if that is where the crew decides to take their meals, or from the auto-dispenser of wine glasses and the collection of crystal and mugs in the ship's kitchen if there.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene Romeo 1 and the Reclaimer's Intent, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial The corsair should have an easy time landing the modular cutter, even as the control panel squawks that there is a growing loss of pressure in the cutter's fuel lines the entire time. At the same time, the crew's resident sensors operator and at-times engineer works diligently to ensure those same fuel lines don't overcharge or explode Something that might make for some white-knuckled final maneuvers to land in a space large enough for the vessel to be tucked away in a place where it might be more easily hidden, but where the Reclaimer's Intent can be landed close enough to make the transfer of crew and materials more easily done. Meanwhile, aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Earrod tries to make himself comfortable on one of the seats when invited to review the footage and recordings. While he is no master of naval engineering and warfare, he is an engineer, and an engineer's mind can easily enough make sense of what is being laid out before him. He nods, a bit surprised by the violence he witnesses. Even for a veteran spacer, the damage of a barbette on such a small target can be terrifying. To a man who's experience is with the one space-faring vessel they had before it was sold on Torpol, it is horrifying on a whole other level, entirely. Arryne - the cutter's engineer - is one of the most agreeable to being cuffed. Though they try to shift and scoot away from the others among the crew as they are all gathered together to be transferred over to the Reclaimer's Intent. One of them, the cutter's gunner, is injured enough that he has need of a sling that the cutter's doctor was already in the process of making when they were boarded. He winces and grunts with every step jostling his arm as he shuffles to the ship. Dazl takes up a post to help act as security, as one might expect from a ship's marine, with a relaxed grip on the accelerator rifle from the armory as he watches them all intently. The cutter's pilot is quick enough to answer questions under the scrutiny of Urien and Kesper. The first thing he surrenders under questioning is the location of his base. It matches the energy readings that Urien detected near the end of the fight, faint and subtle near to where the cutter and the pinnace had been when first detected before the shooting began. And he is quick to offer "The bulk of us stayed back! Were expecting scholars and shamans and such!" He also offers that there was only one other ship in the system besides the cutter and the pinnace. A jump-capable one - a 200-ton Far Trader - and one of the first things they had done upon sighting the Reclaimer's Intent was giving it the order to jump back to Chief Keia and tell him of the threat so that the full brunt of the fleet could be brought to bear on it. Had they not been captured, it would have been a horrible surprise. Now? Well now its just a matter of counting the days until the fleet arrives... As for his chief? Of course, he is happy to brag about. The fearsome strength of Chief Keia, and how he has quickly begun to cut his way up the ranks of the raiders to make a name for himself. His power grows, day by day. He's been making deals and under himself, he's assembled a fleet that must come in somewhere in the range of 3,000 d-tons in all. Easily one of the largest cohesive groups of Oghman raiders in the entire reach. They might even be able to give one of the Lords of Theev a hard run if they ever came toe-to-toe, he brags. As for the Aslan? He hasn't the foggiest idea. That was all dealt with above him. Likewise, if anybody else was planning any other raids, then he wouldn't know about them. And when the topic of other slaves in system are raised, he none-too-subtly shoots a glare at Arryn. Without the confusion of the smoke, and the adrenaline of raiding the vessel running through veins, its easy to notice the simple steal collar that Arryn wears around their neck. It is only a moment though, before he answers: no. There are no other slaves in-system or in their captivity that he is aware of. In total, you all find yourselves with the cutter's pilot and captain, a medic, the cutter's gunner, a raider, and the engineer. All of them currently bound and being held under your watchful eye for whatever you decide to do next as Kesper sets to work camouflaging the now-landed cutter. Aboard the cutter there is ammunition for slug rifles and snub weapons, some basic medical supplies, and rations for a few weeks operation. All fairly standard fare for such a vessel - even with a hole blown in its side, leaving no way to truly secure it from an intruder.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene Romeo 1 and the Reclaimer's Intent, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial "I - sorry." Arryne seems to wilt when Urien asks them to show their findings again, and they don't look Urien in the eye. While an engineer in their position might be able to lie, the raw facts of the matter don't. The ship is damaged, badly, and it would be hard to exaggerate just how much was done to the vessel when Eirene's missile struck true. Wordlessly, head hung low, they walk out into the cargo bay and towards the front of the ship. Dazl nods at Urien's update and quickly signs, "Stay / me. Room / secure.I will stay here and secure this room." The ship's pilot grunts as Eirene pulls him to his feet, and he clearly is just about to say something scathing or insulting before the muzzle of a gauss pistol is pressed under his jaw. He suddenly freezes, still trying to keep up the glare. But he noticeably twitches at the sound of a safety coming off. His eyes flick between Eirene and - when he joins - Urien and the engineer. He keeps his hands up now, as if that alone might coax the corsair away from the idea of blowing his brains out against the nearest bulkhead, "Now - now there's no need for this. We are just surviving. This is our way of life. We wouldn't kill you for yours." Though once Urien speaks, he looks to Eirene again. Clearly, he's suddenly envisioning the stories of Old Sindal, of how the slaver-hunters of the Empire would sail with the frozen bodies of pirate captains hung from their hulls like jewelry. And those stories never say just how kind their captors were prior to even that ghoulish treatment. There's a genuine fear in his eyes, "Chief - Chief Keia won't stand for this." There's a tremble there, "He - Chief Keia is the Lord of the Stars. He has a fleet. A whole fleet. And many friends. That was why we were here." And he's quick to add, "This wasn't our idea!" He nods. The man that Urien pistol-whipped, newly cuffed and sat against a wall, grunts, "Well - " The pilot shoots a glare, "Shut. Up." And he returns his focus to Eirene, "This wasn't our idea! Chief Keia has made a deal. New allies. He wanted us to help those allies. The - the Aslan." He tries to nod, but the prod of the weapon's barrel prods against him from the motion and he immediately stops, "Find engineers. Technicians. Experts. As good as bought, already. I never sold any slaves!"

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Reclaimer's Intent, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial A push at the newly sluggish controls is all it takes to send the Reclaimer's Intent screaming through the sky towards the retreating contact. Screaming through the sky at Mach 10, the displays in the bridge have to filter out the glow of plasma on the vessel's nose, and for several minutes, the people of Borite's downport are able to hear the echoeing cry of the Reclaimer's Intent as it flies after its prey. Comparatively, when Urien sets about jamming the modular cutter, the electronic bands go quiet once more. The cutter is rendered silent. What follows is several minutes of running down the cutter even as it tries to flee. The Harrier-class commerce raider has more than enough engine to run down a typical cutter, and that is before accounting for any battle damage that missile has caused. Dwarfing the smaller vessel, casting a shadow over it in so many senses of the word even as it desperately tries to juke or shift away. They slip to one side and the Reclaimer's Intent is already waiting for them. They shift to the other and the comparatively hulking warship is there, too. Penning them in by a measure of inches and feet as it draws closer. Their pilot clearly tries to slip away, but that does no good. Inevitably, at hypersonic speed, the two vessels meet. The cutter crew clearly realize the game is up, having slowed to a hover over the last several minutes as you dog them again and again. When they finally stop, it is an easy matter to move the Reclaimer's Intent into position. Inside the Reclaimer's Intent, the crew who are to act as a boarding party have time to suit up and prepare. The ship's armory has enough equipment to five marines with accelerator rifles for such an action. Dazl, having already taken it upon himself to get one to Rahne, does the same with the others. All those who are going aboard are met by Dazl tossing them one of the ship's accelerator rifles and a bandoleer of ammunition before he moves down to the airlock to join everyone. Earrod, for his part, keeps to the same stateroom he quartered in on the way to Borite, assuring you all that he will not move about the ship until he has assurance that whatever is happening is done. He locks the door from the inside. Opening the airlock is easy enough. The crew of the cutter haven't even shut it down. The first team through the airlock, led by Kesper, runs into some quick and immediate trouble when exiting the airlock into the hall that connects the forward section of the vessel to the modular bay area. With a scream, a leather-clad raider comes bursting from a ship supply closet with an ax in hand. His battlecry is cut off just as it starts with a round from the Zhodani's stun gun that sees him knocked to the ground mid-jump. From there, with the remainder of the boarding party coming through the airlock, it is a thing of short work. Kesper, Urien, and Eirene split towards the cockpit. This means that they have to pass through the forward cabin space. Three raiders are in there, and they already look in a bad way. The air is thick with smoke as the life support systems of the vessel are clearly strained from all the damage the ship has sustained, and there's visible sparking overhead through an iris valve that leads to the craft's only turret. On the ground, a bandage wrapped around his head and over one eye, a man is being tended to by another with the contents of a medical kit spread out haphazardly at his side. When the three enter, the apparent medic throws his hands up. When the two men still standing look like they might start to fight, a quick pistol-whip across the jaw from Urien sends one of them to the ground with a grunt of pain, and it seems to disabbuse the other of any notion of resistence. The medic helpfully, wordlessly points to the cockpit door. And as soon as that door opens, the man in the seat, stressed and clearly aware he's outgunned, slowly raises his arms, and doesn't put up a fight when he's pulled from his chair and dragged from the small craft's bridge. At the other end of the ship, Dazl and Rahne are able to head for the cargo compartment. The cargo module is not as smoke-filled and hazy as other parts of the vessel. And that is because of the gaping hole in its side, where the missile first struck. Along the other wall of the module are several cages. Hard, steel things and each is clearly designed to hold a single person, with their wrists trapped - bound - sticking through metal plates in the cage door to prevent them from being able to move around in the cage much at all. Mercifully, they are empty. At least right now. Further back, it can be found that instead of the traditional reserve cargo space sported by this pattern of cutter, there is instead more powerplant. And more smoke. Clearly the powerplant and engine systems are in bad shape. The engineer, in grease stained coveralls and with bandaged hands, seems confused at first to see the two gun-toting strangers come into the engineering space. They yelp, falling from where they worked and scramble back into a corner of the engineering space, "I can - I can help! I know engines! I'm useful, I swear!" They are quick to cover their face with one hand. Dazl keeps back towards the entrance to the engine space, watching the cowering figure but with his rifle lowered. The engineer - a human - flinches at any touch. All of this - sweeping the ship section by section, taking control of each portion of the vessel - can be watched from Mahan's station as suit cameras show what each member of the boarding party see. In a span of a minute the ship is controlled, with the cutter's crew under control, and the vessel seized. Sitting in the air, both vessels suspended by their M-drives. The pilot of the cutter, scowls as he looks to you, "Kill me, you cowards. Kill me and see what Chief Keia brings down on your heads." Resolution, Round 3 Stage 1, Maneuver Reclaimer's Intent uses 6/6 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 (Mod. Cutter) dedicates 3/3 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 sits at Short range, retreating (0/2 Thrust)   Stage 2, Attack Reclaimer's Intent doesn't fire! Romeo 1 doesn't fire!   Stage 3, Action Reclaimer's Intent holds a sensor lock on Romeo 1! (+2 to targeting) Reclaimer's Intent is jamming Romeo 1! (Unable to transmit!)   Status of Reclaimer's Intent Hull: 62 / 69 Armor: Bonded Superdense, 4   Power: 185 / 260 40, Basic Ship Systems 1, Low Berths 120, Maneuver Drive 8, Sensors 1, Missile Rack 15, Particle Barbette   Ammo: 11 / 12 Standard missiles, loaded, 0 in reserve   Criticals: Severity 1, M-Drive (-1 to control)   Crew: Mahan is acting as pilot! Urien is at the sensors! Kesper is on the dorsal particle barbette! Eirene moves to act as a marine! Rhane is acting as a marine! Dazl is acting as a marine!   Resolution, Round 4 Stage 1, Maneuver Reclaimer's Intent uses 6/6 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 (Mod. Cutter) dedicates 3/3 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 sits at Close range, retreating (-3/1 Thrust)   Stage 2, Attack Reclaimer's Intent doesn't fire! Romeo 1 doesn't fire!   Stage 3, Action Reclaimer's Intent holds a sensor lock on Romeo 1! (+2 to targeting) Reclaimer's Intent is jamming Romeo 1! (Unable to transmit!)   Status of Reclaimer's Intent Hull: 62 / 69 Armor: Bonded Superdense, 4   Power: 185 / 260 40, Basic Ship Systems 1, Low Berths 120, Maneuver Drive 8, Sensors 1, Missile Rack 15, Particle Barbette   Ammo: 11 / 12 Standard missiles, loaded, 0 in reserve   Criticals: Severity 1, M-Drive (-1 to control)   Crew: Mahan is acting as pilot! Urien moves to act as a marine! Kesper moves to act as a marine! Eirene is acting as a marine! Rhane is acting as a marine! Dazl is acting as a marine!   Resolution, Round 5 Stage 1, Maneuver Reclaimer's Intent uses 6/6 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 (Mod. Cutter) dedicates 3/3 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 sits at Adjacent range, retreating (-6/1 Thrust)   Stage 2, Attack Reclaimer's Intent doesn't fire! Romeo 1 doesn't fire!   Stage 3, Action Reclaimer's Intent moves to board Romeo 1!   Status of Reclaimer's Intent Hull: 62 / 69 Armor: Bonded Superdense, 4   Power: 185 / 260 40, Basic Ship Systems 1, Low Berths 120, Maneuver Drive 8, Sensors 1, Missile Rack 15, Particle Barbette   Ammo: 11 / 12 Standard missiles, loaded, 0 in reserve   Criticals: Severity 1, M-Drive (-1 to control)   Crew: Mahan is acting as pilot! Urien is acting as a marine! Kesper is acting as a marine! Eirene is acting as a marine! Rhane is acting as a marine! Dazl is acting as a marine!    

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Reclaimer's Intent, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial The Reclaimer's Intent, even sluggish on the controls, can respond reasonably enough still. It is a warship, after all. The vessel is able to shoot up and turn once more, accelerating all the more as it turns with its previously damaged grav plates turned towards the advancing raiders. 'Retreating' in posture only, it would seem, as the turret and barbette slew their aim to the rear of the newly stabilized fighting platform. There's an audible growl of annoyance over comms, "Strike us down if you think you can, intruder! Chief Keia has a hundred-fold more!" And with that, in the barbette's control seat, the displays flash in front of Kesper. They show a projection of the pinnace as the targetting computer lays out everything the ship's sensors can read on it. Its current speed, its composition. All of this data fetched from broad-sweep readings by the ship's automated systems, refined and turned into sensible readings by Urien's deft work, and laid out for the gunners to make use of. As Kesper depresses the triggers, there is a hum all around him with energy systems flaring up to account for the sudden spike. A rumble through the whole turret that carries through the seat. A near-invisible streak of blue-green light cuts through the sky. Aboard the pinnace, the raider at the helm has just enough time to read the warnings from the computer and key the ship's internal comms. But it doesn't due any good. At this range, the beam hits true on the nose in a matter of seconds. Most of the others are dead in their seats before they even hear what the pilot is starting to scream. The pinnace splits open, lengthwise at the top like a hotdog left to boil for too long. Metal rends and snaps. The powerplant explodes at the rear and the whole vessel is fragmented into various parts. They careen down into the woodland below and on impact, another fireball erupts as the liquid hydrogen detonates. The fireball registers as little more than a blip on Urien and Kesper's screens, and on Urien's console the marker for Romeo 2 is struck through. One target splashed. At the same time, as Eirene slips down into the direct control station for the ventral turret, already displays light up as the computer detects a gunner's presence. Situated under a stack of twelve loaded missiles, Eirene can take the controls and easily set the interface to target the modular cutter. Information is piped to the consoles in front of the corsair that give a feed on the status of all twelve missiles and their payloads - the fire-control system already dumping input into the programming bus. Meters showing each missile coming live, engines pre-heating, display. A single button press and the overhead rack audibly rumbles as the missile comes to life. Louder than the barbette's fire, the missile leaves the tube and streaks across the sky. Not picking it up on their sensors - and with the missile streaking at 10 Gs through the open sky - it screams over the landscape with its engine leaving a brilliant trail in its wake. It hits Mach 10 and is covered in the glow of plasma. The modular cutter has barely turned to avoid terrain when the gunner sees the brilliant light streaking towards the vessel. He barely cries out a warning, a mere second before impact. The force throws him from the station, laid out on the deck. Urien and Eirene both have display prompts telling them the results of the hit. The modular cutter's drive signature grows weaker, and its belching smoke out the side where the missile struck, a gaping hole in the hull. She is clearly making to turn away from the fight now, trying to return the way they came and leaving the burning body of the pinnace in the ground. A moment passes after Urien's declaration, "Freeze in the deepest hells, intruder!" He is growling over the comms, "Chief Keia will see you burn for this! You've made powerful enemies! Strike me!" But even then, the modular cutter is starting to angle away. It seems as if they might be intending to run and quit the field. Resolution, Round 2 Stage 1, Maneuver Reclaimer's Intent uses 3/6 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 (Mod. Cutter) dedicates 3/4 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 sits at Medium range (1/5 Thrust, advancing) Romeo 2 (Pinnace) dedicates 3/5 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 2 sits at Medium range (1/5 Thrust, advancing)   Stage 2, Attack Reclaimer's Intent fires! The particle barbette is fired at Romeo 2! Romeo 2 takes evasive action, -2 penalty! Reclaimer's Intent hits, dealing 48 damage! Reclaimer's Intent deals 399 rads! Romeo 2 takes 48 damage, 399 rads, and is destroyed! A missile is fired at Romeo 1! Romeo 1 takes evasive action, -2 penalty! Reclaimer's Intent hits, dealing 8 damage! Romeo 1 takes 8 damage! Cascades result in an additional 6 damage! Romeo 2 is destroyed before they can fire!   Stage 3, Action Reclaimer's Intent took evasive action against Romeo 1! (1/3 Thrust) Reclaimer's Intent took evasive action against Romeo 2! (2/3 Thrust) Reclaimer's Intent took maneuvers to aid the gunners! (3/3 Thrust) Reclaimer's Intent attained a sensor lock on Romeo 1! (+2 to targeting) Romeo 1 took evasive action against Reclaimer's Intent! (1/1 Thrust) Romeo 2 took evasive action against Reclaimer's Intent! (1/2 Thrust) Romeo 2 took maneuvers to aid the gunners! (2/2 Thrust)   Romeo 2 is moving to quit the field!   Status of Reclaimer's Intent Hull: 62 / 69 Armor: Bonded Superdense, 4   Power: 185 / 260 40, Basic Ship Systems 1, Low Berths 120, Maneuver Drive 8, Sensors 1, Missile Rack 15, Particle Barbette   Ammo: 11 / 12 Standard missiles, loaded, 0 in reserve   Criticals: Severity 1, M-Drive (-1 to control)   Crew: Mahan is acting as pilot! Urien is at the sensors! Kesper is on the dorsal particle barbette! Eirene is on the ventral missile turret! Rhane is acting as a marine! Dazl is acting as a marine!    

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Mine Expedition, Borite Countryside 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial Earrod gives Urien a small smile, dabbing at his own face to do away with the grim and grit that has collected since the work began, "Of course. We aren't complete primitives." He gives a strained laugh, clearly just as run thin by this whole event as the Solomani, "The coach-house near where you landed has quarters and warm beds, if you are wanting a chance to stretch your legs outside your ship." And with that he turns his attention to leading the way out of the valley, electing to go the shorter and more 'traditional' route before the discovery of the radar tracking device is made. An event that sees him grimly reaching to the sheath-holster on the front of his saddle, where a lever-action revolver has sat this whole time, unused and out of mind until now. He looks between you, "I think you may be right. Keep sharp, friends. The Oghman are more sly than many off-worlders give credit for."   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Mahan The Reclaimer's Intent, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial Aman and Chrone seem the most caught off-guard when the coming attack is announced. There's a flash of fear in their faces and they seem to freeze for a moment. After a moment of looking between the two of them and the space-farers who have so kindly given such advanced warning, it seems that he is the first to snap himself out of it, turning to the two of them with a snapped, "Go! Now, get on the wagons and run!" He all but shoves the two of them towards one of the waiting wagons where the merchant is beckoning them to come along. He turns to look to the nearby fringe buildings of the starport, but then gives a double-take to those of you he can see aboard the ship, "Do what you can, spacers. We'll prepare as best we can." And he takes off at a run, boots pounding the dirt as he sprints for the perimeter of the landing pad, calling out, "Alarm! Alarm! To the guns!" Dazl looks to the sky and narrows his eyes. He grits his teeth. Rolls his shoulders. And like a shot, he's belting up the ramp, through the newly emptied cargo bay, and clambering up the ladderway. He shoots straight for the armory, following close behind Mahan before turning off for it. When he emerges, he tosses an accelerator rifle and a bandoleer of magazines to Dr. Te-Lari Kyra   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Reclaimer's Intent, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial The Reclaimer's Intent lifts with ease as it comes to life, the ramp not even fully shut before the vessel is already cruising over the tree-tops. It is nowhere near as taxing a flight out to where the mining team are as it was for them to make their journey on mounts trying to avoid being seen - as the proverbial crow flies, an overland journey of two days is turned into a flight of minutes. There is even a rush of air and dirty washing up over the assembled group returning from the mines as the Harrier comes down to land, overshooting the group so that its a simple matter to rush into the cargo bay while the vessel keeps its nose pointed towards the approaching hostiles. As the ramp comes down, Dazl is already holding post in the cargo bay, standing front and center with an accelerator rifle in hand as if he expects at any moment the vessel might be swarmed by Oghman raiders lurking in the treeline. He regards each of you for a moment and only when the cargo bay door is shutting and the Reclaimer's Intent lifting again does he quit the post. Earrod is comparatively more panicked, not quite sure what is going on as he ushers his mount to one side of the cargo bay to loosely secure its reigns. As if he might have need of it shortly. Looking to the ceiling as if trying to get a sense of what his happening, he shakily makes his way to the staterooms where he had been quartered only days before, "Is this the visitors you spoke of, friend?" With the Reclaimer's Intent moving for the fight, you all are able to move to various positions unimpeded. On open communications, as the Reclaimer''s Intent rises up above the trees once again, the cutter broadcasts, a rough and crackling voice with the sounds of a ship in action in the background on unencrypted channels, "Unidentified vessel! You trespass on the hunting grounds of Chief Keia! Power down and surrender, and we might spare you!" And then, boiling the air as it fires, a single beam of a beam laser crosses the sky. The first contact, a modular cutter identified by automatic nomenclature on the sensors as Romeo 1, has fired! The shot strikes the hull even as Mahan turns to evade, causing the auto-dampening of the displays to kick in. But the damage seems superficial at best according to what the sensors report. Then the flickering beam of a pulse laser follows moments later, striking to the rear of the Reclaimer's Intent. The vessel lurches for a moment and readings indicate a sudden - but brief - loss in grav-plate output. The controls feel more sluggish, now. "There's more where that came from, intruder! And a torpedo battery if you want a fight!" Resolution, Round 1 Stage 1, Maneuver Reclaimer's Intent uses 1/6 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 1 (Mod. Cutter) dedicates 1/4 Thrust for general maneuvers. Romeo 2 (Pinnace) dedicates 1/5 Thrust for general maneuvers.   Stage 2, Attack Reclaimer's Intent has no weapons ready to fire! Romeo 1 targets Reclaimer's Intent, and fires a single shot with a beam laser! Reclaimer's Intent takes evasive action, -4 penalty! Romeo 1 hits, doing 5 damage! Reclaimer's Intent takes 1 damage! Romeo 2 targets Reclaimer's Intent, and fires a single shot with a pulse laser! Reclaimer's Intent takes evasive action, -4 penalty! Romeo 2 hits, doing 10 damage! Reclaimer's Intent takes 6 damage!   Stage 3, Action Reclaimer's Intent took evasive action against Romeo 1! (1/5) Reclaimer's Intent took evasive action against Romeo 2! (2/5) Romeo 1 attempts a signature lock on Reclaimer's Intent! Romeo 2 attempts a signature lock on Reclaimer's Intent!   Status of Reclaimer's Intent Hull: 62 / 69 Armor: Bonded Superdense, 4   Power: 185 / 260 40, Basic Ship Systems 1, Low Berths 120, Maneuver Drive 8, Sensors 1, Missile Rack 15, Particle Barbette   Ammo: 12 / 12 Standard missiles   Criticals: Severity 1, M-Drive (-1 to control)   Crew: Mahan is acting as pilot! Urien took command of the sensors station! Kesper took command of the dorsal particle barbette! Eirene took command of the ventral missile turret! Rhane is acting as a marine! Dazl is acting as a marine!    

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene The Mine Expedition, Borite Countryside 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial When the members of the crew have assembled, Earrod and Administrator Ura relay that they will head back to the nearby stables in order to gather enough mounts and supplies for everybody. They don't even make a comment about the number of people who are coming out to check the pumps at the mines. After all, they will happily remind, with Oghman spies potentially out there: more guns in a potential fight is better. After a few hours they return to the ship with more of those thin-furred, four-eyed horse-like mounts, with saddlebags and packs heavy with the materials for making camp. The supplies to make a fire, tenting, a bed-roll, and other material that helps to make the journey easier. This includes a rather thin, dry, crispy bread that Earrod strongly suggests you soak in tea or warm water before taking a bite. The first of you to ignore that advice may very well come away with a chipped tooth for your trouble. The journey out into the countryside takes two days. Earrod advises that normally it'd be one day by direct horse ride, however with the belief that sabotage might be afoot, he wants to take a more circuitous route to avoid potential scouts or slaver parties that might be watching for just such a repair expedition to head out for the mines. At the cost of more time spent traveling, you are able to take in more of the greenery and thin grassland, and rolling hills, of Borite's surface. heading out of summer, the air is relatively cool, and when on open ground its almost enough that the more sensitive among the expedition might opt for long sleeves. But otherwise, clear skies in all directions mean that the night is spent under a clear, starry night sky to enjoy while gathered around a campfire before bed. There are a few troubles, of course. A slightly slower pace means that when you get nearer the mine, it is late enough that you need to bed down for the evening to avoid working on the pumps in the dark. So you bed down in sight of the mines, with the warm glow of Borite's two suns cast over the whole scene as they sink below the horizon. On the morning of the third day, you head into the valley where the mines are. The mining operation itself is rather unassuming when you first see it from a distance. You approach it on a dirt road that is visibly worn and pressed by truck tires and wagon wheels, winding through a long stretch of woodland until you reach a box valley. Earrod explains that the path you have taken is even more secretive and circuitous than the route the minors take to avoid being observed from the air - though the miners typically need no more than a half day's ride. And when you arrive in the box valley, you have trouble initally spotting the entrances to the mineshafts hidden among the woodland. Ten entrances are hidden among the trees, clearly camouflaged to be hidden from above or at a distance. As for the pumps, there are ten in total and they are spaced out across the valley in such a way that, as Earrod suggests, if he were to take one half, and your ship's maintenance technician the other? The two 'groups' can split the valley in half and meet at the far end when they are done. The pumps are located near the mouth of each mineshaft, in wooden bunker-like structures that are mostly buried save for the camouflaged rooftops and the air chutes that allow ventilation. There is no lighting in these 'bunkers' meaning that the best visibility is achieved during the day with the door propped open, and even then it pays to have a flashlight at hand. And the sabotage is not subtle. When Urien draws out one of the first of the air filters, it smells absolutely putrid. A smell so overbearing in the small space that anybody in the bunker-shack needs to go stand outside and give a few minutes to let the space air out, or risk tasting breakfast a second time. And when coming back in, you can tell it wasn't a clever method: urine and knives. Somebody very clearly soaked the output filters in urine, and slashed the tubing for the intakes to make the pumps lose air pressure. The lack of air pressure meant an increase in temperature as the pump up-cycled to try and make up for it, heating those same filters with the ambient heat of the pump's engine. Had the miners not thought to turn the pumps off before coming back to town, it could have led to the engines being burned out with stripped parts. You have everything you need for the pumps to replace it, but its upsetting work all the same. And something best done with gloves and a cloth bandana over your mouth and nose. Earrod has the same experience, rushing up and stumbling up the steps, coughing and waving his hands in front of his face as he comes back up under the open sky. He looks pale and a bit sickened from the whole experience, and insists on taking a few minutes sat on a tree stump to smoke his pipe before - with a dark green bandana over his face - heading back into the shed to resume the repair. But beyond this? The next two days pass uneventfully. Urien and Earrod leading the rest of you down the respective sides of the valley, trekking from one mine shaft's pump to the next with tools and other supplies in hand. The evening of that first day, you all are able to retire to camp - this time set up in the valley, even just inside the mouth of one of the mine shafts if any of you insists on doing so. After a meal of vegetables and light meat boiled into a stew - some of the last fresh provisions that Earrod brought along for the venture - the work continues the next day as before. And finally, with work finished on the fourth day, you head out of the mine through the more 'official' and worn path at Earrod's suggestion to give your mounts an easier time after the last couple of days of riding rough overland. But one thing that stands out as you leave, at least to Urien after a second glance, is tucked away in a patch of trees near the mouth of the valley. You almost miss the legs of the tripod, hidden among the branches of a fallen tree. But when you peer closer? You can see it. A simple black, metal tripod tucked away in the shade. A curved radar dish atop it spins slowly and silently. Around it, the grove of trees is dark and silent. If you listen, you can hear the chirp of small birds and the scurrying of wildlife. Despite what you can see, the wildlife would tell you that you are alone. So that would mean whoever set this up is either gone or have been laying low and hidden away for some time now.   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Mahan The Reclaimer's Intent, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 4) 1105, Imperial When you explain the plan for Krrsh to spend some time in low berth, he seems to whilt a bit. After all, any spacer knows about the betting pool that tramp freighters run when they are taking on passengers for such a lodging. But he seems to understand the logic: if he was lying about the fuel deposit in deep space, then this would be the surest way to see him pay for misleading you. So he follows you down to the low berths during a period where Dazl is outside walking around the perimeter of the ship, and in quick order he's prepped and in one of the low berth pods. What follows is two days spent fruitlessly looking for a vendor who might be willing to buy your cargo - and having little luck. One thing of note, almost lost to you in your time spent heading to the coachhouse in order to make use of their phone to call out to potential vendors - with the helpful suggestions of the barmaid - you almost miss that the bodies of Dazl's deceased crew go missing. Each of them over the course of three horus on the first day. And if you look around, there is no sign of Dazl, either. If he is taking them, he comes and goes seemingly before you might be able to catch sight of him. And you can't shake the feeling that it might be deliberate. But being ever willing to carouse and make associates, you find that Aman Coxand-Robarn, her husband Chrone Robarn, and their associate Selly Jenker have all rented quarters in the coachhouse that you have been making calls from. So you are able to approach them and ask if they would join you for meals and socializing. An offer they happily accept - Aman and Chrone with more chipper enthusiasm to start, than Selly to start. But even despite Selly's reservations to start, the four of you find good company to share tea and stories until you are able to tastefully broach the topic of finding a buyer. It is then that Aman presents the fact that, like her father, she is fully literate despite not having been seen with a book in her hand since she landed back on the planet. And she is more than happy to use her native familiarity to assist in finding a buyer. On the third day, Dazl returns from out of the wilderness with stains of dirt and grime on his arms, face, and shirt. The shirt he was wearing is clearly stressed and torn at, and when addressed he only gives a simple nod and grunt before trudging aboard the ship to make use of a refresher in an otherwise unclaimed stateroom. When that is done, he seems to return to relative normalcy based on his behavior in the short time that you've known him thus far. And on the fourth day when the buyer Aman arranged for you arrives with his trucks, as well as some supplementary horse-drawn wagons, you can set to work unloading the cargo. Something that Aman, Chrone, Selly, and Dazl all happily help with. It is when you have loaded on the last of the industrial goods, with the petrochemicals having been the first things unloaded for safety and efficiency, that you see a ping on one of the master control terminals down by one of the doorways into engineering. A sensors ping, a high-strength transmission. But by the time you access the terminal, the transmission has finished. It was fast - it lasted no longer than the minute it took you to be notified of it and get to the terminal. Somebody broadcast on a powerful transmitter. But you can't tell from where, to who, or what was said. The sort of transmission that would make a Navy signals expert proud, clearly.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr, Urien Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Cargo Bay, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Administrator Ura watches Kesper for a moment, visibly weighing the request with pursed lips, before continuing in fluent but slow Galanglic, "I... suppose we could make a limited allowance. Your engineer would be welcome to carry a long-arm while riding out with Earrod, for protection. And there will be the guards, of course. We would never ask for such valuable personnel to go un-escorted. I'm told that's common practice elsewhere, as well." She gives Kesper a small smile, someone who is speaking to cultures they have never experienced, "Else-wise I would ask you... not. Or at least, nothing beyond the out-buildings of the service area. And that you keep it to something small, on the hip. To avoid causing unrest among the public." When Urien approaches, she seems somewhat taken aback by the rough accent coming from the man. She visibly discards the shock with a shake of the head and a strained, polite laugh after looking him head to toe, "Oh I - I believe perhaps I didn't make the nature of the matter clear. You would be riding out. Its perhaps two days of riding out to the mine? And then perhaps another two to three days securing and checking all of the pumps, according to Earrod. With another two days return, that leaves a total of a week's time. We would be happy to provision you a mount, supplies." She frowns as she looks up above all of you to the 'neck' of your vessel still sat over her head, "And I would ask that this - I'm sure, very fine vessel - not be used." She takes another step closer, "I have spoken with Earrod, and the workers who found the issue. They fear Oghman sabotage. And if any of their spies were to realize we had such a vessel contracted to us? Here, now? Well... " Her frown deepens. She doesn't continue, at first, seeming to let the unspoken point linger. Finally, "We could pay, of course. While we do not have reliable access to credits, we have assorted rare minerals and goods that we estimate to be of approximately Cr 5,000 in value. If that would be sufficient." Dazl none-too-subtly shifts sideways across the ramp to stand directly beside Kesper, giving him a small elbow in the side, "Gives / time. Go / cargo." And he nods his head back to the cargo bay, still packed with crate-loads of industrial goods and supplies, before gesturing vaguely skyward.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr, Urien Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Cargo Bay, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Dazl rises to his feet and follows Kesper to the ramp, though he stays up at the top end of it, still able to enjoy the shade provided by the ship itself while watching the whole assembly. He even turns to look over his shoulder at Urien as he approaches, giving the Solomani man a nod of acknowledgement. Administrator Ura purses her lips and looks about, and it is immediately obvious that she is ensuring you are all relatively 'alone'. Earrod and the two men who are clearly acting as escorts - Junior Corporal Jurod and Private 2nd Rate Pestin - are far enough back as to be considered out of earshot barring technology or powers as-yet undisclosed, but it seems she is still worried that other actors may be nearby. But after she glances around the relatively open surroundings, she seems satisfied that only your crew are within earshot, "Yes, well, of course. Sorry for secrecy." She gives a strained smile, "The matter I was hoping to commission you and your crew for is very important. It requires total secrecy." She steps just a bit closer to the edge of the ramp, closer to Kesper, "If you weren't outsiders, I'd be less willing to speak about this with you. I think you'll learn that the Oghman have spies everywhere." She steps back again, taking up a more conversational posture once more, "The issue is with one of our mines. The atmospheric pumps have failed. I'm certain for star-farers like you it won't be any issue, but for us... " And she winces, shame-faced, "Even Earrod only knows so much. And people like him are worth their weight in gold. And since he says you all seem charitable and kind sorts, we were wondering if you might be willing to help us. Maybe your engineer could ride out with Earrod and an escort to fix the mine's pumps?" Suddenly, as if realizing she omitted it, she adds, "We can pay, of course. And we'll happily provide tools if you are willing and able to provide parts."   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Krrsh grumbles as Urien leaves, clearly something about the name 'Fido' being uttered under his breath. But as Eirene takes a seat to level a question, he seems to come to attention. He nods, "Yeah. Her name is Miria Silverhand. I haven't interacted with her much - she mostly works on special assignments for Redthane - but, yeah. She's pretty important for him. Like I said, even if he hadn't told us I would guess she would be who he had speaking with the other Lords for him." He shudders, "She's cold. A mean little ice queen... " After a long moment of staring into the bowl he's emptied, he seems to snap out of it, giving a whole-body shake with bristling fur, "Gonna warn you now: she's just as cagey as Redthane. I think that's why they get along so well. So if you go hunting after her, keep your head on a swivel."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Cargo Bay, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 1) 1105, Imperial Dazl regards his crewmates. In particular, he seems to linger on the younger of the two women, holding his gaze there. Contemplating. After some time seeming to just sit on your question, outwardly, his shoulders slump. He signs, "Gone / master." He nods to the man among the three, "Him / only. None / master." And when he seems to focus his attention on funerary arrangements, he hesitates. Once more, he stares at the bodies and purses his lips into a thin line. Finally, "Fire." He turns to look at the assorted cargo of your own vessel, "Here / cargo / sell. Guns / need. Victim / Borite." With the cargo bay open to the outside world, you are able to feel the warm air come in on the occasional breeze, beaten back before it goes too far by the ship's own climate control and life support systems. And perhaps it is that breeze, carrying over the trees, that masks the approaching party until you hear the whinny of a horse. A sound mimicked three more times. Several yards out from the base of the ramp, positioned in such a way that they don't fall under the shadow of the long and pointed bow of your ship, a quartet of riders are gathered together on the back of small pony-sized creatures - almost identical to Terran horses save for the four sets of eyes that look back at you. Among them, easily spotted, is Earrod. He has a warm smile on his face, and gives a small wave. Two of the riders are soldiers, much like those who had first approached. They stay on their mounts, shifting idly with the creatures. Neither seem to be carrying rifles but they are unmistakeably in soldiers' uniforms. The older looking of the pair - still rather young - is chewing on a smoldering cigarette. Clearly the two men have very little interest in what is going on, for the most part. Another is a woman who looks to be of similar age to the older man. She has shocks of gray at her temples and the otherwise raven-black hair is tucked back into a clean and neatly kept bun, with a braiding circling it. She is dressed in clothing similar to him, though in place of slacks she has a skirt, with an odd article of cloth-lined leather on her legs that look like some form of chaps that clearly mean she is not required to ride side-saddle. She slips from off from her mount, giving it a pat near its short mane, and walks to the base of the ramp, "Excuse me, hello!" She smiles, "I am Administrator Ura Chaln. This is the Reclaimer's Intent, yes? Earrod has told me a great deal!" And then she is fishing in her jacket, and pulling out a small booklet and a pen while looking to Kesper and Dazl sat nearby the assorted crates of goods, "To cut to the quick: I don't suppose you would be in the interest of some light work, star-farers? We'd be so grateful!" She smiles again, waving to Kesper and Dazl once more as if she might have gone unnoticed otherwise.   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2, Day 1) 1105, Imperial Krrsh furrows his brow, "I - how - she was loyal! That's why! Vargr aren't all just fighting all the time!" He huffs at that, rolling his shoulders again, "We'd served together for years! She was loyal to me, and the crew were - were loyal to us." Those last words again seem to make him wilt. He sinks into his chair, grumbling wordlessly as if to himself. He grinds his teeth forward and back. Clearly, trying to gin up a memory or an idea. Finally, "Takk was one of the figureheads behind it all. He was the one who came storming into the bridge with some boys and guns. I imagine that he's the one who took 'em for... well, probably Theev, if I had to guess." He shrugs, "Takk was a pretty good engineer, and we definitely had the spare parts to make the repairs. At least to stitch things up till we got to a proper shipyard." And when Clark comes up, he shifts, seemingly only keeping the probing corsair in the corner of his eye. He huffs, "It wasn't my idea. None of it but hitting the trader and that other ship here in-system. Honest." As if that might buy clemency for lives, "It was all Redthane's idea. We hit Clarke to show that we can pull up tech and loot, we hit Torpol to show that we've got teeth and aren't afraid to tangle with authorities. Really show we're dangerous. Then he gets this story all sold to one of the other Lords, and once we're part of their fleet Darokyn can't touch us any more."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Cargo Bay, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Dazl regards the bodies of his former crewmates as you speak, and when you prompt him he is quick to answer, "Correct / you. Waiting / us." He takes a moment and seems to consider his next 'words' with a look of concentration on his face, "Help / called. Victim / us. Broken / ship." And then, "Attack / fast. Broken / console. Proof / you / seen." He finishes the soup with a long pull on the broth before setting the bowl down, once more knitting his brow as he thinks, "Broken / consoles. Soldier / me. Tech / no." And again her furrows his brow. He huffs - a raw sound, "Radio / on. Vargr / yes."   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Krrsh wilts a bit at the accusation, "I - look, you spend a few hours playing hide-and-seek with a pair of Chamax hunters! See how chipper you are!" He actually bristles, glaring in spite of his previous apprehensions, "Its been a hell of a time, so I'm not exactly on my best game!" He huffs again, seeming to have found some of his spirit in response to Urien's prodding, "I'm telling you the honest truth! I've got nothing to gain from lying or hiding things. Not after everything." And finally, with that out of his system, he seems to relax slightly again, "The survey was a shot in the dark. The whole planet gets its name from, you know, borite-rich deposits. We were hoping we might find something easy to come back and drop some drones on that the locals maybe wouldn't know about. After Torpol, we were going to need cash for repairs, and to lay low for a bit. Was wanting something small, wouldn't require much for hours or bots to get done." He huffs, shrinking back into his seat, "Fat lot of good that plan was." And as to the last question, he gives another huff, "And like I said: I don't know what the deal was. They used to be thick as thieves! But they had some sort of falling out in private, and now Redthane has a price on his head and was trying to get one of the other Lords to take him in. That was the whole point of the attack on Torpol. Wasn't money or anything. Was just to show we were dangerous. He's probably got Miria trying to sell the whole thing back on Theev, already, as we speak."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial He blinks at that, "I - but - how could they - ?" He again shrinks back in the seat and clutches the bowl of noodles, "Must have still been keying the radio, I guess. She always said its a bad habit. I just - so after we jumped in I thought that... maybe... authorities had tracked our jump. Maybe sent a bounty hunter or some star-mercs after us. Saw this ship hailing us out of the blue and - and my crew and I kind of panicked. Ran out the guns." He winces at that, as if recalling what happened causes a pang of physical pain for a moment, "We, uh, got a good few hits in. But our sensors didn't pick up the missiles until they were too close." And once again he seems to visibly wilt a little as he goes on, "And with the trader that punched us in the cargo bay out by Torpol, and this? Well. Crew were twisted. I was in the middle of trying to give orders to get damage control going when... when my Number One got his suit punctured. She was sort of the only person who was keeping the crew in line after all this. So that's when they - they took the ship."

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial The canine shrinks back at the sudden two-front assault against him, and once more his ears flatten back against his skull. If there is one thing he seems terrible at, its hiding the physical tells so commonly associated with Vargr physiology. His eyes flicks between Mahan and Urien in turn, seemingly not soothed by Mahan's air of relaxed professionalism any more than what seems to be a threat that he has just been poisoned or... will want to be? In the near future? From Urien. He tightens his grip on the bowl of noodles so generously offered. Even if the mainly vegetable dish has him repeatedly clearing his throat, its clear he finds it better than the nothing he was eating on the station. He leans forward, "Like - like I said. My name is Krrsh. I uh, maybe padded that a bit, at first. Thought you might be pirates or someone with the wrong idea. I was the captain of scout ship and we were making jump to Borite to do some survey work and... " His ears flatten again, "Well. We'd just hit Torpol. You... I mean I figured maybe you were sent by them. That's why I gave the fake name." Then he raises up, quick to add, "And I'm real grateful for that! I owe you - I've got real good people who would be happy to see me alive! Drop me off at the nearest starport and I'll be putting out word ASAP." He gives a strained laugh, "But I suppose I should still give you some answers first, right?" He sets the bowl aside. Closes his eyes. In through the nose, out through the mouth. A very clear effort to calm himself. "When we were leaving the hit on Torpol, I was trying to see about maybe getting another score on the way. But there was a trader who was... a bit stouter than we expected. He got us real good." He shakes his head, "See, we're sailing for a man called Ferrik - Ferrik Redthane. He was part of Admiral Darokyn's fleet, but they'd had a falling out. I don't know what happened, but he ended up getting a price on his head. The whole hit on Torpol was Ferrik's idea. He wanted us to show we were dangerous. Get us in under one of the other Lords, get protection." Then he blinks, as if suddenly having an idea, "Oh - oh his Lieutenant! Ferrik's Lieutenant! Miria Silverhand. He won't set foot on Theev, but I guarantee he sent her. And I know where they've got a fuel depot hidden to help jump in and out of the system! Give me safe passage to a starport and I'll show you where it is!"

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Kesperziaiepr Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Cargo Bay, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial The large man is easy enough to find. It isn't much farther back 'in' aboard the ship before finding him. He is - after all - in the cargo bay. It is the most reasonable place to move the bodies once the passengers who came aboard at Torpol have recovered their belongings and departed. He doesn't leave his position at the feet of the three bodies. He looks over his shoulder as the Zhodani man draws closer, giving a small nod when the other man speaks. When offered a drink, he makes a motion with the bowl of noodles that he sips from as if to indicate he is already sated, but he takes the glass offered and sets it on the deck next to where he has been resting the bowl from time to time. When you make a motion to toast, he moves somewhat quickly to retrieve the glass. Perhaps a bit too quickly, as when he clanks his glass to yours, it ends up with both of you having just a few drops of the amber brew on your fingers. He gives a hoarse sounding grunt and nods his head to you, transferring the glass between his hands as he wipes his fingers against his shorts. After he takes a small sip, Dazl returns the glass to its spot on the deck and gives a brief moment of attention to the computer. While you speak, he stares at it. He furrows his brow for a moment. And stares. As you are speaking, he starts to crudely prod and swipe at the screen, sifting through menus. A few button presses change the screen. He furrows his brow harder and gives a grunt. Clearly frustrated with what he sees, though not quite apparent as to why, he flicks a few more times before your question seems to come to the forefront of his attention. Clearly not satisfied with the computer, he instead signs, "One / close." He nods to the younger of the two women recovered from the vessel - the one found having fallen and snapped her neck in the crew lounge when you all first came aboard, "New / others. Friend / hers." He gestures to the older woman, and the man, from the bridge. Neither are exactly good to look at, and Dazl has already covered their upper bodies with sheets from the ship's locker, "Marine / me. Engineer / her." He motions to his previously mentioned friend, then the other woman, "Master / sensors." And the man, "Master / ship." He sighs. Even that sound is a rough thing, "Gun / sell / here." And finally, "Victim / us. Attack / pirates. Listen / dog / radio." He sets his jaw at that, clearly feeling a prickle of anger as he gives a brief 'recounting' of things.   Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Ship's Galley, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial It is easy to find Krrsh. Understandably so. And when directed, he is more than eager to almost bolt up from the chair and scurry away from the arbiter of threatened destruction who Urien so casually tasked with his protection. A quick movement that brings a rolling hiss of frustration from the coiled up feline at having what had quickly turned into a comfortable rest so rudely disturbed by all of the sudden motion. The Vargr goes where he is directed with little muss or fuss as he's directed to the ship's galley, and when motioned or ordered to - and not a moment before, yet seemingly still surprised if or as the order is give - he takes a seat. He squirms in place, tugs at the collar-seal of his vacc-suit, and finally clears his throat, "Could - could I get something to eat? Been a day. Haven't had a lot." His voice is rough, as much from dehydration as just from carrying that nigh unmistakable growl that so many Vargr bring into spoken Galanglic. Yet he looks somewhat sheepish at that request - not as if he's scared of a response, but just worried he might be committing the most unforgivable spacer sin: imposing on the ship's stores. But all the same, any water or beverage that is given is drank almost as quickly as it hits the table, and food doesn't fare much better. Looking to Mahan, he is rather direct, "So I - I think normally an airlock pitch takes place in... in an airlock?" He looks about for a moment and gives a nervous chuckle, "Seems like maybe I'm on the good end?" And after a moment, clearing his throat, and offers, "I suppose maybe I should keep that up then. You don't seem like bounty hunters, the more I think about it." He seems quick to append, "Not - not that I would personally have a bounty!" Another nervous laugh, "But uh. Hi." He gives a small wave, "The name is Krrsh. Thanks for the rescue. Once I get off of here, I'll put in some word with some folks I know. They'd - they'd be grateful to hear I'm alive."

General Enos Satvik was a notorious Sindalian commander who held many titles in his time - Admiral, Captain, even Lord. Though the specific titles sometimes vary depending on the version of his tale you hear. However, all tend to agree that he was a nasty piece of work even by the standards of Old Sindal, responsible for putting down any number of dissident movements with a brutality that seemed excessive even by Sindalian measure. Naturally, this saw him promoted to high office, and given command of a combined space / ground force that acted as a sort of 'fire brigade' in the dying days of the Sindalian Empire. Wherever there was insurrection, so to there was Satvik to jump atop it with both boots. Some go so far as to say that he fought so hard to save the Sindalian Empire because it was the only thing preventing his many enemies from gathering their power together against him. Be that as it may, the rumo is that he made preparations to escape the inevitable fall of the empire, creating a chain of bunkers and refueling points, and even stashing captured starships to be made ready for a getaway at a moment's notice. His eventual fate is still unknown, but some presume that there is a motherlode of treasure and equipment hidden somewhere far from the empire, or deep beneath the ground somewhere. The way the story typically goes is that Satvik never got to use his bugout chain. Some versions say his preparations were discovered and deemed to be proof of disloyalty worthy of death - typically leading to his assassination at the hands of a horde of deathbots who's command circuits he'd been led to believe he'd disabled. Others say that his enemies intercepted him as he attempted to flee, taking his life in the stateroom of his own flagship before taking the vessel to serve as a prize and assurance of safe passage with one of the Empire's many enemies. Regardless, the stories generally agree that he never got to make use of any of it. Meaning all of that treasure and fuel and weaponry might still be hidden away out there...   Information Points: 1/4 Possible Locations: Unknown   Major Clues The High Watch Station The Sindalian High Watch station over Borite features a rather large portrait of General Satvik, as if the station was either dedicated to him, or perhaps fell under his command when it was originally active. In orbit around the main-world, it sits in an advantageous position along the Florian Line.   And more may come from this, yet.

The Sindalian Empire fell long ago. It is sufficiently distant to have become the stuff of legends and wild tales, rather than the sober and responsible history of meticulous archives. People will believe things about the old empire they would dismiss outright if attributed to a more recent era. This is in part due to the separation in time, and partly because the Sindalian Empire was so extreme in its methods and accomplishments that almost any savagely lethal piece of equipment or ostentatious craft might be believable. If the empire's willingness to scour cities from the face of their planets is to be believed, then claims of super-weapons used to do it and more suddenly seem a lot more plausible... Tales of Sindalian wonders and savagery are told and retold in starport bars across the Reach, becoming ever more distorted by time and distance. Legends of lost treasures or blasted ruins that might contain long-forgotten artefacts are popular entertainment, and there are even some who might believe them, going in search of the hidden wonders of Old Sindal. Some are respectable scientists intent on carrying out rigorous research, and others are treasure-hunters and hopefuls that think a cache of Sindalian weapons might be enough to bring victory for their chosen cause or a relief to the tightening noose of a grim-faced loan-shark. Others are simply desperate or deluded. Few find anything, and most of what is uncovered is wrekced or degraded by centuries of abandonment. Yet the lure of ancient treasures is undeniable - and who knows? Maybe some of the stories are true...   Investigating A Rumor Once a rumor has been encountered, you will have the framework of an old tale in which you might fit additional clues. It is possible that you might have come across some of the relevant information but might not have realized or been able to see its significance without context. Once connections begin to be made, it will become possible to slowly piece together some of the truth behind whatever story you might have found. This will require some work on the part of you in order to fully piece together. After all, if it were easy, then it would have already been done... You can expect this to be a slow process of information gathering. The elimination of red herrings, some solid informed guesses to where payoff might be, and a journey there to end with a lengthy search. Each step of the way might have the potential to expand and spiral into something else entirely, and over the course of searching after the clues for one tale, you may just find yourself stumbling across the unrelated clues of yet another story. Each rumor has an Information Cost; a total that is tracked by the GM. Once it is reached the Travellers will have finally reached a conclusion for a good idea of where to look. Certain actions may yield one or more Information Points and most can only be undertaken once in connection with any given rumor. There are various ways that you can come together in order to see what it is you can find about any particular case. What is listed here are not the only means by which Information Points can be gathered. Just note that some of these actions can actually result in a loss of Information Points - thematically this is largely due to contradictions or obfuscation of an issue that was previously becoming clear due to the bad information.   Didn't We Hear Something... ? The crew can, as a collective whole, come together and think over any related tales that shed light on what you are currently investigating. You may make a single collective attempt to brainstorm every wild tale and drunken boast or obscure vid' documentary that they can think of, then sift through the whole mess of it for connections to the legend. This culminates in a Very Difficult (12+) Investigate check, with a DM+1 for each Traveller involved in the discussion who set aside the time to have this discussion. The Effect of this check is added to (or subtracted from) the total Information Points for the rumor in question. Archives of The Floating Palace If you take the time to visit Drinax, then you might be able to take to the archives of the Floating Palace - assuming you gain permission from King Oleb (or disregard it through other means). It is just important to remember that the archives are a disorganized mess of myth, conjecture, and the personal opinions of generations of scholars. But they also contain a wealth of information on Old Sindal. The crew may consult the archives once for each rumor, adding (or subtracting) the Effect of an Average (8+) Investigate check to the total Information Points for the rumor. Consulting a Sindal Scholar There are many 'Sindal Scholars' in the Reach. Some are fascinated amateurs or charlatans twisting to make money from made-up 'secrets of the old empire'. Others are reputable academics - which does not necessarily mean they are right about what they think they know - and some actually work in wholly other fields but have relevant information. Consulting any titled scholar is a risky business. Some have a vested interest in pretending they know all about the Sindalian Empire and will tell almost anything in order to maintain this illusion. Scholars will often want a fee for consultation, which can vary depending on the source. Any given scholar can only be consulted once about a given rumor. So be sure to note their names, and where you have met them or where you might find them in future in case you have reason to return. When consulting such a scholar, 2D is rolled on a GM-tracked table, with the highest Investigate or Science (History) skill among the crew used as a DM. Collecting Rumors In every port that you visit, you can attempt to collect stories of 'Old Sindal' or the misadventures of spacer crews in the hope of cross-referencing some facts from all the tall tales and legends you might find. Such an effort takes 1D3 days of hanging around bars and dives, and could lead to antagonizing people (or making oddly fast friends) if split up crew end up pestering the same crew. However, any Traveller who commits to this time can spend 2Dx50 credits and make a Difficult (10+) Streetwise check. A success adds 1 to the total Information Points. There is no loss of Information Points for a failure - but that does not rule out a barfight or an arrest for harassment. Cross-Reference Known Data Each time the crew increase their total Information Points, you may attempt to cross-reference it with information not specifically about Old Sindal. For example, if you have been collecting spacers' tales then you might try to locate gas giants with the right number of moons or the correct ring system to pin down a location. This can be done once every data collection 'session' - so even if the whole crew split up to canvass every bar on an entire planet and add several Information Points to the total, you can still only make one cross-referencing attempt. You may add the Effect of a Difficult (+10) Investigate check to the information total - which may, of course, reduce or add to it. Just because you know what the old smuggler or merchant captain was talking about, that doesn't mean his memory is accurate or that what he told was the whole truth. Other skills - such as Science (Astronomy) or Science (History) - and DM for creative ideas or extenuating circumstances can be applied as appropriate on a case-by-case basis to this check.     Once you have reached enough Information Points about a rumor, the pieces will be assembled enough that you can form a reliable lead on where the rumor might lead. You will still have to search that local area, and it might be a difficult trial unto itself when you arrive, but at least you know where you can start looking. Just remember that there is always the possibility that you might not be the only party interested in where things might lead...   A Catalogue of Rumors Here you can find an index of the rumors and tales that you have found rumors about: Underway / Open General Satvik's Bugout Bunker   Resolved / Closed None, yet...

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan Landed at Downport, Borite 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial Once the Delta Vee and the station were dealt with - properly sorted, bodies brought over to the Reclaimer's Intent, and the orbital paths and progress of both plotted into the flight computer to aid with finding them later, and the commerce raider pulled away - getting down to Borite's surface is a simple matter. You can descend down through the thinner atmosphere, passing through an intermediate cloud layer to find yourselves. And as you sweep down a long beach with sands black from years of volcanic activity, you catch the sight of the 'downport'. Something that Earrod or any of the other three natives up and about are happy to indicate to you if anybody in the bridge finds the port guide available from the ship's library to be insufficient for the task. When radiong in for landing on the frequency that is advised by the port guide you were able to pick out from the ship's library, a rather young voice - doing his best to sound stern - responds in heavily accented Galanglic, "U-understood, Reclaimer's Intent. Please a-adhere to within one mile of all radio locator beacons on your approach or - or you will be fired upon." Following a series of radio locator beacons is easy enough as they guide you down a shallow valley, closer to the downport until you are able to spot the landing area. To call it a proper 'downport' is... generous. After all, this planet sees perhaps a few starships a year at most. Or at least, a few per year that aren't here with hostile intent. So you are directed to a clearing amid short, fat, golden-colored trees where a space roughly large enough to fit the Reclaimer's Intent twice over has been hewn away and uprooted, with a third again left around that as stumps. Landing sends up a cloud of pollen and loose tree limbs. And as the ship settles, Earrod makes a point to suggesting that he should be the first to step off the vessel before any cargo is unloaded or before other passengers are disembarked. Offloading can be done easily enough. Dropping the cargo ramp or the airlock steps as desired in order for the passengers to gather their belongings from their alloted cargo space before offloading. Low-berth passengers awakening with soft gasps as they first feel the comparatively warm air of the cabin-space around them when they are brought back to the world of the living, giving the Doctor appreciative nods and murmered thanks as they gather their belongings and head out. Earodd makes his way out - and in shorter order, rushing up through the muddy and wheel-worn path up to the landing pad, a small collection of troopers in dark clothes and with bolt-action rifles in hand come rushing up. They dispersed to either side of the only roadway up to or out of the landing pad and regard your ship warily even as Earodd raises his hands in some mixture of surrender and greeting. He shouts something to the nearest of them, they shout something back. Voices echo between felled trees and fighting positions. A few moments pass. A bit more shouting back and forth. Then two young soldiers are motioned for by the man leading the detail, and with a few inaudible, barked orders they quickly jog back the way they came. The man who gave the orders steps out from cover and approaches. At a glance he is wearing a uniform not unlike the outfit worn by Selly, with similar markings on his collars. He looks like... a much younger Earodd, trading a thick and bushy beard for a full head of dark, cropped hair hidden under a forest-green beret. He approaches the older man and its clear they know each other, conversing. The air of pressure seems to alleviate. The soldiers who still wait in cover lower their rifles. It seems that, at least for now, that it has been made abundantly clear you aren't the raiders they've come to fear. The passengers - as well as any crew who wish - are ushered down the road to a small series of white-washed wooden buildings with tin roofing. A stablehouse, a maintenance shed where they indicate you can find a single buried liquid hydrogen tank and the tanker truck to ferry its contents, and more sheltered building that resembles something like an old train station inside. Uncomfortable, large wooden benches. A service desk with a clerk who clearly is only doing this part-time. Behind that desk, carefully secured, is a phone with a pictographic keypad. Passengers make calls, and over the course of thirty minutes to an hour, a small collection of trundling open-top cars and trucks arrive to ferry them all. The majority seem to be arranged by Earrod, to include the eight individuals in low berths who he does happily identify - now that they are all back on Borite and accounted for, healthy - are some of his employees. Comparatively, Chrone and Aman seem much less pleased to be back, and spend a good deal of time doing what can only be described as sulking quietly together on a bench out front. While you will be under close watch of the seemingly jumpy Self Defense Force garrison of the downport, but the town seems as if it is reasonably well-inahbited and likely to be a good source of business. At least as good a source of business as one might reliably expect from a settlement where the outlying houses are often still made of set logs, with tin rooftops. And where the border of the town is marked by a pair of fire-breaking trenches. Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent, Borite Downport 019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial The two new passengers are another matter of concern. The man recovered from the Delta Vee - 'Cat-Killer' as his suit identified him - can be readily identified as 'Dazl' now that he's had an opportunity to strip from his suit. As soon as a medical scan determined that the injury to his arm was 'just' a closed fracture, he was happy to undue the tourniquet, and stripped out of that suit. If use of one is offered to him during the descent or landing, or even during the downtime as passengers off-load - then he is more than happy to make use of a refresher in order to clean himself of sweat and grime and canned air stink. He expresses this gratitude with a small grunt and nod. All while being carefully guarded of his newly set arm. In fact, outside of signalling with VSR, that tends to be the only way he expresses himself at present. The most active he gets is when the soldiers first come rushing up. Clearly not able to access your armory as he lacks permissions, he can be found by the first-deck airlock during the stand-off. There with what seems to be a butcher's knife taken from the kitchen, he stands watching the entrance with sharp eyes until things seem to calm down. Only then does he quit that self-appointed post and return the knife to its place on the magnetic strip on the wall. With that, he takes it on himself to seemingly do as he pleases for the moment unless there is apparent need of him. Unless it is requested he be elsewhere or keep himself to one portion of the ship, he instead takes it upon himself to sit with the recovered bodies of his crewmates. He sits at their collective feet, cross-legged, and sipping on the broth from a bowl of ramen that he seems to have invited himself to cook from the shelves of the ship's stores. And there, as passengers are offloaded and a warm summer breeze washes up into the cargo bay, is where he can be found. Krrsh - or perhaps, Hsrrk if he is to be believed - is... less serene. He hasn't stripped out of his vacc-suit since he was recovered from the High Watch station in Borite's orbit, and he still seems to be "playing" the part of the whipped dog admirably well. Having been ushered at gunpoint to Urien's quarters, he has been kept under the careful eye of both the cameras that Urien or others might access from any terminal aboard the ship, and of course the hissing and growling sentry that is a disgruntled Maine Coone. He hasn't moved much from the seat at the desk save to occasionally flinch or draw away from the feline's both real and perceived movements. And over time it seems he's been able to suss out where the camera is, as such things aren't a common addition in most staterooms, and so it was only a matter of time before it drew his eye. This is, after all, a Sindalian vessel. Measures designed to strip crew of privacy from their leadership is assumed. So occasionally he looks up to it, as if the unblinking eye of the reflective half-sphere in the roof will provide some answer or relief. When he can feel the vessel has landed, he does look to the camera and offer a shaky, "H-hello? Are we landing? Can - can I go now? Please?" And a disgruntled sound from Astrid has him jump slightly in the seat and try to scoot it across the floor away from her on reflex.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Mahan, Eirene Aboard the M.V. Delta Vee 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial The console pops and hisses, a few sparks coming from jarred paneling and damaged wiring. But the systems are easy enough to interact with for the Solomani agent. Likewise, putting in system commands is similarly easy enough. The sensors show the atmosphere in the engineering and machine and passenger spaces lowering as atmosphere is pumped from those spaces. Gravity - mercifully - still reads as present and functioning in the engine spaces so you should have no issue moving about the space so long as the crew all keep their vacuum suits on. Likewise, even the cargo space shows that its maintaining half-gravity - low enough that you won't shatter your knees if you jump down the two or more stories from the breach to the deck, high enough that you won't need your mag boots to keep to the deck so long as you take it slow. Processing through the airlocks and back aboard the Reclaimer's Intent is easy enough for all parties. Likewise, going from the second deck down to the first presents no issues. The passengers have once more retired to their quarters as requested until this matter is resolved - though a few may have been overheard grumbling at the delay when so close to making the port now. The away team can get down to the second airlock next to the missile magazine without any troubles in order to cycle through and then pull themselves out - inverting - and walking along the 'underside' of the hull of the Reclaimer's Intent until reaching a spot where you can more easily transition to walking across the Delta Vee once again. The shortest safe path has you walking along the underbelly of the Delta Vee and towards her nose, walking along that curve in the hull through a space between the crippled vessel and the starboard wing of the Reclaimer's Intent as you go. In total, the whole walk takes twenty minutes from exiting your own vessel until you are standing at the ragged and scorched edge of the hull breach that lets you stare down into the darkened cargo bay. Illuminated now only lightly by the glow of the distant sun, you can see that her bay is full with cargo containers, and what looks to be palletized vehicles of some kind - though its hard to tell from so far without descending at first. Splitting up from here, the away team are able to move on their discussed routes - Mahan and Urien descending through the breach, and Eirene moving along the edge of the breach to head into and secure the second deck. As you all reconnect at the entryway up to the second deck the corsair has just cleared, you are all able to turn your attention to the engineering spaces to continue. And when opening the door to the engineering spaces, that is when you are 'hit' - your suit sensors telling you that you have just been smacked by a wash of radiation. Not enough to bypass the protective layering of your suit's defenses, but just shy by a few degrees. The engine space strobes with a glowing blue-white light as the nuclear core heats the outer casings of the power plant. Not super-critical - yet- but slowly advancing that way as coolant systems and safety regulators have died away. The best way forward is either shutting the reactor down - losing all power and controls for the vessel - or trying to restart secondary systems to stabilize the reactor. Otherwise...     Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Rhane, Kesperziaiepr Aboard the Reclaimer's Intent 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial The man follows easily enough and he doesn't raise any complaint when the bodies of his crewmates are recovered. He helps as much as he can - which isn't a lot. Mostly it is helping wherever a single hand is all that is needed, whether that's a fifth hand helping in moving one of the bodies to the airlock, or acting as the one responsible for hitting terminals to cycle the doors to allow easier passage. Those deceased crewmates can be set up... somewhere. Easily enough. Though cargo space is at a premium, with the hold currently occupied by both speculative and passenger cargo. This means there is nowhere that you can place the bodies where they won't be in the common walkways, or in someone's way. In traditional Sindalian fashion for such a vessel, there's always the dining room tables... When shown the galley, the surviving crewmember only then finally pops the seals for his helmet. He struggles a bit to remove it with only one hand, but staunchly refuses to allow any assistance on the matter - shouldering away any physical attempts to that end. And then he unceremoniously drops it to the ground, giving a raspy sigh as if this is the first time in a while he has smelled air that wasn't pumped through a filter. Or at least, a filter he was wearing at the time. That is when he spots the wine dispenser and raises a brow. He looks to the two of you - or at least the closest of you, if either have accompanied him. He gestures to it and signs with his good arm. "Like / drink?" And right about then its as if something shifts in his body. Muscles slacken. He seems to notice it more belatedly than one might expect, looking down as if to take stock of the fact his knees are shaking like he's a third-party observer. With a heavy throw of his weight, he unceremoniously deposits himself in one of the nearby galley chairs, grunting in pain and exhaustion.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Mahan Aboard the M.V. Delta Vee 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial A few moments of silence follows. Then a tapping. A seemingly senseless or erratic tapping, at first. But then several of you can recognize: Vacuum Standard Rhythm. A language that is often replicated across numerous societies (and the understanding of which is still required to be an Imperial Navy officer) but VSR and similar languages will often fall away as vacc-suit technology becomes more reliable, typically becoming niche knowledge of belters and miners. Its intended for communicating when radios or other verbal and electronic messages have failed, typically through hand-signals when viable, and otherwise often relayed through tapping against the recipient's face-plate to relay more complex messages that general hand gestures may not convey as easily. "Here / bridge. One / survivors. Losing / power / air. Broken / voice." From there, finding the way to the bridge is easy enough, and unlike with the station from before this iris valve has power. The familiar hiss of machinery can be heard as the iris valve comes open and admits any members of the away team who wish to enter the bridge. There, the sight waiting for them is about what one could expect from what the sensor readings would tell. There are three individuals on the bridge. Or, to be more accurate, there are three bodies on the bridge. One of them just happens to be up and moving about, alive and well. All three are in vacc suits with patches that identify them as crew of the Delta Vee. Two of those individuals are at the stations for the helm and sensors operations, slumped in their chairs and unmoving. The third is a large man standing at the sensors station when you enter. He easily clears six and half feet tall, with broad shoulders. The vacc suit - a boarding vaccsuit - has a patch for the Delta Vee on the left breast, painted by stencil. And on the right breast it has a more crudely painted, 'CAT-KILLER'. He turns to regard those of you who enter, tensed as if expecting a fight for a moment. But when he sees that there aren't guns being drawn on him, he relaxes. Then slumps to one knee, leaning heavily on the chair for the sensors station. He gestures to himself, signing with a slightly shaking hand, "Me / D. Gone / crew. Victim / ship. Need / help." At this point, it might become apparent that he isn't moving his other arm much at all. It hangs limply at his side. He the way you came, then glances behind him at the woman slumped over at the helm station, before signaling, "None / crew. You / who?"

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Mahan Docked with the M.V. Delta Vee 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial Pulling in closer to the crippled, dying vessel it is easy enough to line up with one of the two airlocks. The bottom airlock onto the first deck has you coming aboard near the very front of the vessel, or at least the front third, and with the wingspan of the Reclaimer's Intent, that means its a necessity to dock using either the bottom airlock - that would have the crew coming out the bottom of the Harrier - or the second deck airlock, which would have the two vessels pointed in opposite directions and with the starboard wing of the Reclaimer's Intent swept out in front of the Delta Vee's nose. Add in a lack of coordination or communication from the Delta Vee, and a lack of any control over her latent inertia... Mahan once more demonstrates his expertise at the helm, swinging the vessel near-perfectly into position. A swing and lock without a hiccup. When you lock with the other vessel, your airlock is large enough for three members of the crew going aboard to fit in with full suits. If already in the airlock when the docking procedure is first underway, it is a familiar sensation. Familiar enough that it isn't even three hours past that you all were doing this same thing on another airlock. Only this time, when you peek through the airlock viewports you can see that the lights are totally within the normal standards for Humanitii - save that one of them is flickering on and off, and the other is dimming and brightening at random from the inconsistent power flow from what can be reasonably assumed to be an unreliable flow from the power plant. No warning from pirates or vague threats with alien Jolly Roger's to be seen. There's even gravity, at a nominal 0.9G. Processing through the interior airlock, there's breathable atmosphere. The terminal in the airlock even tells you that there is breathable air at nominal pressure on the other side, and you can see into the crew dining and public space before the door has even opened. The place looks like its a messy and disturbed chaos. Food left on the central table, a display screen that is currently on the menu for "Zero-G Outlaws 7: The Noricum Contingency" with the series signature, slightly off-key electric guitar track playing. And when the airlock door opens, the first members of the away team can already find one of the the Delta Vee's crew. A human woman lays sprawled on the floor. She is on the floor by the hatch to the cargo bay, with a vacc-suit partly pulled on. Deathly still. Surveying the crew shared space, you can tell how it is she has more cargo space than is typical for an A2 Far Trader: she's missing two of her lower staterooms typically reserved for crew to allow more room for cargo space on a vessel already notorious for just how much space she has for her displacement. Clearly, a vessel made for hauling a great deal of cargo over the length of J2 jumps. Add on the fact she sits with two triple turrets - one heavy with pulse lasers, the other with missile racks - and its clear that this crew are used to heading along the Florian Line or into other places where they might run into trouble on their own. The stateroom is clearly lived in and used, but is currently empty with the hatchway open. The ship's locker is open, with baskets and containers of batteries, hand radios, energy packs, and more scattered across the floor. The 'public' refresher also sits open, and even with the flickering lights you can see that its empty. The iris valve to the cargo bay is currently closed, and the console by the door indicates an atmosphere differential in excess of 1 bar. Vacuum. The other iris valve towards the bridge is closed, and the console by that door currently indicates a matched pressure on the other side. If the survivor has heard or seen you docking, they haven't stepped out from the bridge to meet you.

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219) Urien, Mahan Heading for the M.V. Delta Vee 019 (Week 2) 1105, Imperial With the away team pulling back from the station after confirming it is clear - finding a fallow nest that the chamax they encountered clearly called home - and securing the ship, the Reclaimer's Intent is able to draw away from the station with little issue. The ancient hulk is left to continue drifting in Borite's orbit, screams for help now silenced. The passengers seem to generally lighten their mood as word spreads that it feels as if the ship is once more getting under way. The four from Borite especially lighten up, drawing that much closer to home. And should Mahan and the rest of the crew allow it, the passengers will more than happily step from their quarters to stretch their legs, and will all generally mingle as a large and lazy crowd in the dining area. Otherwise, if it is requested of them, they will remain in their quarters. With some grousing. The Vargr. The one who so cunningly identified himself as Hsrrk? Is not wanting to leave the stateroom Urien placed him in. Or rather, he isn't wanting to leave the specific corner of it he now occupies, because Astrid seems to have been of a similar mind that so long as he stays in his 'place' that she will stay in her place, and there will be something like peace between them. It takes just shy of an hour to cross a majority of the difference between the station, and the Delta Vee's transponder location. And with sensors up and fully functioning, artificial eyes can take in your surroundings to spot any signs of danger or trouble long before it appears. Or, in the case of the Delta Vee, spotting where trouble had clearly been... A Type A-2 Far Trader sits in high orbit over Borite, currently drifting. As you draw closer, you are able to see the glimmer of sunlight against fragments of crystaliron hull that drifts through the vacuum, and you can see the hull - a burnt orange color, with yellow accents and markings - and a dark, black maw blown into the hull that shows the darkness of the interior. The thrust plates sit dark and the vessel is clearly not moving, only broadcasting or producing signal from her transponder to identify just what she is. It looks like she was hit hard, and fast. There's no outward signs of activity to be seen, and there's no longer any response if trying to hail the vessel on communications. Comparatively quiet and dark, it drifts.