A Wretched Hive...

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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."

Edited October 30, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

After the arrival on Theev Mahan makes a point of not pushing the engines to maximum thrust, buying them time to talk before they touched down. From the Captain's chair he looked to the crew and asked,

"This might be our last chance on-world to talk without risk of being overheard, so if there's any questions or thoughts voice them now. Eirene, Urien, you both seem familiar with this sort of company so any insights would be appreciated. From what we gathered from Krrsh, I think our first objective should be to capture Redthane's second, Miria Silverhand, and use her to direct us to Redthane himself. Secondarily, the capture of her crew and Krrsh's mutineers under Takk, if possible, to endear Torpol and Clarke as much as possible. To that end I think we'll need more stunners — I rather expect those will be easy to acquire here on Torpol. Finally, they have a high class starport and won't ask questions so if we want anything for the Harrier then this is probably our best stop for the time being, so if you've got an opinion voice it."

After that he looks expectantly at them for their replies.

---

Piloting into Theev after the crew meeting proved little issue, the pirate haven having a surprisingly well organized port of entry, but after the descent his lips pull back into a grimmace. Pointing to the display screens, he singles out the women for attention.

"I'm guessing those are the Black Widows. They're the agents and enforcers of the Lords and the main force of 'order' on this planet. If rumors are to be believed, they're clones, robots, or psychics. Who knows, maybe all three. Either way, they're bad business for all of us so if you see one be on your best behavior."

The summary of what little Theev knowledge could be agreed upon done, Mahan rises from his chair and heads to his room. Under normal circumstances he wore simple — by Drinaxian standards, so still far more ornate than anyone else's — crewman clothes but the first arrival on the priate capital of the Reach warrented a special appearance.

When he descended the ramp out the cargo bay he had a dark blue greatcoat in a classical navy cut wrapped around a stylized uniform modeled after an infamous pre-Sindalian raider force which nearly snuffed out the Empire its infancy and topped with a large peaked cap with an ancient captain's insignia woven into the front. As he approached the Widows he swept into a wide bow doffing his hat respectfully and, if offered, lightly kissing the hand of the leader.

"An honor to be here, madam." He says as he rises from the bow. "The Intent and her crew are looking forward to the care of this fine world and it is clear by this most gracious welcome that it will not be found wanting."

He had no idea of flattery worked on a coven of cloned psychic robots, but he'd rarely encountered people with whom it didn't at least help.

"Begging your pardon though, I'm afraid it is some of our crew's first time here so I was wondering if perhaps you could explain some of the customs which govern this fair land? So that we can avoid making some kind of hideous faux pas during our stay, you understand."

Edited October 26, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Deep Space / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2016)
Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene
Parsec 2017, Sindal Subsector
019 (Harrier, Week 3, Day 6) 1105, Imperial

Secluding himself in the sensor room at the bow, Urien kept himself busy with his studies, playing with Astrid and cards with Dazl. At one point he showed up with the chest that the marine had left behind on the Dee Vee, pushing it towards Dazl with the intention of giving it back to him. "Teach me," was the only request he made during the short exchange. There was more to it than simple fun - learning how to play increased his repertoire and opportunities to gamble. It was something of an investment, although he didn't abscond from his duties. When Arryn refused to space walk to assist in the refueling, Urien sighed and placed down his cards, donning the suit without fuss.

As the ship refueled, Urien decided that the best way to spend his time was to catch up on a cat nap. His room and usual hangout was empty, although the more observant could swear they heard some muffled noises in the vents near the gunnery station.

Then a quiet snore.

---

Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116)
Rahne, Mahan, Kesperziaiepr, Urien, Eirene
The Downport, Theev,
019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial

"Well that is a way to make a statement, I suppose." Urien commented dryly at the Skull. He swung around in his seat, fishing around in his jacket for a cigarette and lighter. Aboard a Solomani navy vessel, what he was doing was a blatant breach of safety regulations and could land him in the brig. But Urien didn't put past the Sindal captains of old from quaffing whiskey and smoking a fat cigar in between jumps. "Try not to lie, but avoid telling the truth either. Information is a commodity, always has been." He waved the smoke away from the crew, suppressing a cough.

"If we want to avoid sticking out for too long, we may want to book some lodgings and lay low, get the lay of the land and acquire information on the whereabout of Silverhand. Rushing into action - tsk." He squashed the stub in an ashtray, taking a swig from his thermos of tea. "Easy way to get ourselves in a bad scenario. My advise, we keep an ear to the ground, cover our rear, watch our flanks and adopt a flexible strategy."

---

Urien remained in the rear of the party as the reception party approached them. The Black Widows were new to him, but it was a similar situation back on Teuton with competing departments in SolSec. Appear underqualified and underappreciated, and avoid staring. Instead, he looked around the hangar, looking out for cameras and hidden turrets. He had strong reservations about using Krssh's code, but it seemed as though Theev was a highly exclusive club. In a prowler ship, he might have advocated to try and sneak into the planet's atmosphere, but the Intent had a radar signature as wide as a cargo hauler with her signatures on full blast; a dinner plate when running cold, but little else in ways of infiltration capabilities.

He tugged his collars and made a show of being cold, rubbing his two hands together and blowing into them. "Ask if they can tell us who the big gangs are." he whispered into the team taccoms, covering his mouth with his hands. "Good chance Silverhand is paying courtesy visit to one of them."

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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?"

 

Edited October 30, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Sneaksby]

During the weeks-long trip Kesper did not particularly trouble himself with the intricacies of plotting the jumps. The prospect of miscalculating and dropping into deep space was definitely troubling but being a humble marine he couldn't influence the outcome one way or the other. So why waste time worrying? Instead he busied himself with his combat training, taking the opportunity to rope Dazl into being his partner and join him in his exercises.

He was anxious to build a rapport with their new engineer as well and took it upon himself to frequently check in with them and give some friendly encouragement.

"No need to act like someone will hit you for speaking out of turn," He told them once over dinner, "You're a free individual now, working for a fair wage among equals. Relax a bit. Do right by us and we'll do right by you."

As the party exited the ship to take in Theev he flanked Mahan, keeping on his guard while somehow looking like a carefree slackjawed tourist. The continued existence of this whole society of pirates and rogues bemused him. It was well protected, sure, but nothing the Imperial navy couldn't bull through, and theoretically shouldn't they want to? Maybe they were well bribed. Or maybe in the arcane calculus of grand strategy, for whatever reason they had decided it was simply in their own best interest that Theev continue to do business.

He watched Mahan's chivalric display with amusement. Sometimes the Drinaxian looked and acted as though he'd stepped right out of a romance from the halcyon days of wind-powered ships, loaded down with all the trappings of gentleman-officers of Old Earth's wet navy. Drinax, with all its fanciful ways was truly the heir to Sindal. Albeit thankfully not quite as barbaric.

He listened carefully to the two Laws of Theev, noting that while the punishment for breaking them was 'quite simple', they didn't specify what the punishment was.

"A fine and community service?" Kesper asked innocently. It was a joke. Given the nature of Theev he could guess how lawbreakers would be dealt with: very quickly and very harshly.

Kesper's smile suddenly became a bit fixed as he observed the three strangers, as though he'd noticed something he didn't like. His eyes darted briefly to his crewmates, but he folded his arms and said nothing more.

[Niraverine]

Eirene spent most of the flight to Theev either in the bay, poking at the ultralight and finding faults in it that could be improved upon some investing, or in her quarters, minding her own business or trying to find equipment that could possibly improve said ultralight. As a result, the two weeks passed uneventfully even if they were dragging a little.

Now, when finally on the planet itself, she observed the Widows closely. She knew the many rumours. The assassins. The secret police. The clones sharing consciousness and mind, which was probably the most outlandish one, at least in the Corsair's humble opinion. Still, there was something about the figures that made her extremely wary, even if she could not put her finger on what it was.

Eirene grimaced slightly and glanced back at Kesper. "Something much more final, friend", she muttered under her breath then turned her attention to the leader.

"Those are reasonable laws and we shall adhere to those. We're not looking for troubles nor untimely demise, however one more question, if I may, for the sake of my companions", she started politely. "I've been told it is reasonable to expect that in case of someone breaking the law of the Upper City and attacking the others, the defending party is not necessarily punished so severely, providing the things didn't... Escalate." She punctuated the last word with air quotes. "Is that true or was it a morbid trickery of a drunken merchant?" She was reasonably sure that was the case, at least few years ago, but she would rather know for certain - and be sure that all of her crew members are aware of that too.

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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?"

 

[Dastardly Tristar]

Theev / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2116)
Urien, Eirene, Dazl
The Downport, Theev,
019 (Harrier, Week 4, Day 6) 1105, Imperial

The art of disguise and deception often relied on understanding who you wanted to deceive. One set of disguise might get you through a checkpoint at a highly secure spaceport, but might also get you strange eyes in a funky diner downtown. Knowing the people, the environment and the customs played a larger key in how you keep beneath the radar.

For Urien, Theev may be an alien world to him, but a familiar culture. It wasn't a Teucer, but the same pervasive oppressive feeling was painted all over the city, from the brightly lit spires to the dingy Downport shacks. Keep your cool, don't ask too many questions and keep a watchful eye over your shoulder.

He kept it simple. Spiked the hair, smeared a little bit of grease over his features and changed into another set of clothes that fit the locale better. He stood before his mirror, his expression neutral, before launching into an array of emotions, stretching the corner of his mouth, eyes and ears. He settled for a slightly disinterested look, hedging between a perfectly neutral expression and scowling. He added a slight hunch, rolled his Rs until he developed some phlegm in the back of his throat and alternated his cadence.

By the time he was on the streets, he had the swagger of a city walker and the confidence of a traffic street runner. He kept his briefing to Eirene and Dazl straightforward: "My name is Matthew K. Szabo. Remember that. We mingle with the residents, and if we need to, we gain their trust in the Pits. By we, I mean you, big man. You're built like a linebacker for the NFL, sizing up all those juicy quarterbacks to break - if you don't get it, look it up." There was a distinct drawl that Urien was evoking as he ran through the briefing, though it was getting harder not to spit at any of the duo while he spoke.

"I'm your leadman - manager, hypeson, whatever you want to call me. Ms. Eirene here, she's your accountant. I find you places to fight, she handles your cash, and you're your own bodyguard and product." Urien flicked out a cigarette from his jacket and lit it, sucking in the flavoured smoke of tobacco and applewood.

"We're here to make money but you're also looking for sponsors, patrons - you're tired of having to sell out every match, you want to walk into the next fight with a big man in your pocket. That's our story, so let's not mess it up. If you feel like you need to bail, bail - we'll think of somethin', but let's try not to kick the hornet's nest."

---

The Downport.

Getting there was like taking the commute in Teucer. The lift was horribly cramped, the heat was oppressive and you tried to avoid looking at the crazy person by the roadside. He also tried not to look at their tail, though she was gone too quick for him to see anything more than a silhouette.

He excused himself from the pack, making an excuse to use the public restrooms. He found an open stall with a small awning window and shut the door behind him. Pulling out a small spherical droid, he tapped its power activation button to wake it up, and then let it fly out the window, gaining some height until it could see the street from a bird's eye view.

The drone hovered for two minutes on the clock, trying to spot anyone who fit the profile of their tail. It was a shot in the dark, so Urien kept an eye out for other possible landmarks of interest - the nearest 'law enforcement', the nearest bar, and the quickest route to the lift in case of a quick extraction. Any groups of gangs that might be a problem or opportunity for distraction.

He also saw the Blood Pit a couple blocks ahead, but didn't approach it yet. Not wanting to waste the drone's battery, he flew it to a nearby rooftop and nestled it between some exposed piping and aerial antennas, making sure to keep the connection for quick activation.

Urien returned to the duo after washing his hands, and a look of disgust. "Don't." was all the word of caution he gave.

They continued their jaunt through the streets until they reached the Blood Pit - the most imposing structure around for several miles. He paused his stride to quickly act as though he was speaking into a wrist-comms unit, but was secretly maneuvering the drone to cover the group's approach to the cordon.

Urien was perfectly content to wait until approached, shifting his eyes around and chewing gum. "Same üzlet, like the one that goes behind that fal. We sell jó stuff, you know? It's all about a jó price and jó quality. This here's -" he jerked a thumb back at Dazl, who clearly looked as though he belonged here more than Urien 'Matthew Szabo' and Eirene did, "- Dee." It was a name that quickly came to mind.

"He's the uh. . .Legjobb ár a legjobb harcért. Y'know, best fighter, good money?" He jabbed a thumb to his chest a little too forcefully, making him cough out his gum out to the street. He apologized, squashing it beneath his shoe.

"Manager." He pointed at Eirene. "Accountant."

Urien squinted at the building behind the cordon. "This is the Vér Gödör, yeah? Pit Blood? Where you throw hús-meat and get pénz-coin? I have the hús, and want the pénz. Now let me in."

[Niraverine]

”An accountant”, the Corsair repeated tonelessly then waved her hand to disperse the smoke. The bloody thing scratched at her throat and she had to stifle a cough. The rest of the sentence came out a little strangled as a result. “Really? Me? And here I thought that our Steward would be a better fit for sophisticated roles like this one.” She rubbed her face with slight frustration, unhappy with yet another intrigue, then grinned cheekily to cover the previous slip of her mask. “She definitely simulates that sickness by the way. I would too if I realised we’re playing at elaborate covers and bizarre backstories again.” Simulating or no, if Eirene had that idea sooner she soon would be borrowing Mahan’s war figurines now and bribing bored Solomani with them. Then, maybe, some controlled ransacking of that liquor cabinet that the Steward was jealously guarding would be allowed. A missed opportunity for harmless scheming and trying out the shiny toys of their captain.

She glanced at Dazl with resignation. “I hope you are not against some creativity in your accounting.”  She would be a truly spectacular choice for an accountant, Eirene mused ironically. Kovačević Bookkeeping Brilliance - counts, appraises, misplaces funds then somehow ends up broke due to tragically fluctuating tide of the market. At least officially. She shook her head and left the ship.

---

The streets and the place itself were as she expected, so few minutes later Eirene was already strolling through them with disinterested expression, posture relaxed, hands stuffed deep in her pockets, fingers occasionally taping at the weapon hidden in one of them. Only her eyes carefully scanned the surroundings in search for any irregularities. Soon it was spotted and the hand still hidden in her pocket twitched slightly. Of course they had a tail already. Theoretically, it could be there for someone else, but the Corsair doubted it.

More crowds, more obstacles, more disguises. Deciding that Urien can handle the bouncer just fine, the Corsair tuned off his atrocious dialect that sounded as if it was straight from Lazlo’s World and looked around once more. And there she was! The tail. If the figure was still observing them, then it was no accident and she would probably try to follow them inside. And inside… Inside Eirene would start her own hunt.

[Emmettmcglynn]

Mahan had never been an investigator. It had never been a career path he'd considered, it had never been something the Navy had taught him, and now that he was left to his own devices in a pleasant pirate den he found himself decidedly out of his depth. He knew those suited to skullduggery and snooping were already on the hunt for their main target, that Kesper and Rahne were off doing strange psychic things he didn't understand, and he had already completed his planned objective ahead of schedule. That left him with little guidance or direction, but a gentleman did not depend on others to dictate his actions and so a plan of action was hastily devised.

When it came down to it they intended to conduct piracy in the near future, and a good raider ought to know the other side. GeDeCo was an unreliable titan of self-interest, and Pemtex a shadowy clique of false leads, and neither dealt primarily in security. That left the Murghen Consortium, and if anyone would have useful information about places that amateur pirates shouldn't poke it would be the private security operating in the beating heart of regional piracy.

As a public facing company it was simple enough to track down a represenative, ideally one who wasn't particularly swamped in customers and had a particularly bored expression. Stepping through the door swiftly before pausing to let his greatcoat settle dramatically, Mahan tucked his cap under his arm and strode over to the delegate with a disarming smile.

"Good day, honorable representative! I believe I have the distinction of speaking to a member of the honorable Murghen Consortium, yes?" Before his opposite could answer the rhetorical question, he pushed on saying "As it happens, I myself am something of an entry into the private security myself having recently left naval service. I was hoping I might have a moment of your time to ensure that my services are only placed upon those who require it, and are not already under your protection and patronage, within the Reach. If nothing else, I would at least to get familiar with the titans of the business."

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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.

 

[Emmettmcglynn]

"I wouldn't dream of implying something criminal!" Mahan protests with feigned indignation. "I was merely inquiring after if you had any standing public contracts with the various planetary governments of the Reach. It'd be rather fruitless of my crew and I to jump into a system looking for work only to find the experts have already solved all the problems, I'm sure you agree. Perhaps likewise with your esteemed peer companies, if you happen to have word. Wouldn't want to bother them, hm?"

With a false smile and a wave a hand, Mahan signals a break in the topic and a transfer to another part of the conversation.

"I'd also be interested if you might have some work for a third party contractor at some point? I'm sure you can handle anything the Reach can throw at you, of course, but sometimes it pays to offload some of the workload onto another intrepid group who happen to crew a Harrier-class warship."

The fact that a warship of that class could likely handle any of the "peers" to the Consortium that Mahan had just mentioned went pointedly unsaid, but he allowed the implication to hang in the air.