1.1 - Welcome to Torpol (Closed)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Urien, Rhane, Eirene
The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

He had expected a slap. A hard one, maybe even a back hand slap. Then again, this was Eirene - both a Vilani, and a woman incapable of holding a job longer than two minutes. It was hard to expect someone like that to follow instructions.

The punch lifted him off his feet. In fairness, he had wanted to use the slap as an excuse to stumble dramatically, and his preparations had been turned against him. He flew, soared even, and landed on a nearby table, close to the ship's crew, upsetting the table's occupants and spilling strong-smelling spirits all over him.

He paused for a moment to catch his breath and refocus his gaze. A groan escaped his lips and he blinked, trying to reacquire his senses. He felt the knuckle bone of that damned woman on his cheek, which was certainly bruised. That's a lot of make up to cover the subsequent wound later. Urien slowly pushed himself off the ground, wobbled and then conveniently fell into an open seat by the ship's crew. bleary eyed.

He blinked at them, then gave them his best wounded smile and laugh. "D'ya think she'll let me in her cot after this?"

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Urien, Rhane, Eirene
The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

Call what happens next a house-call in three knocks.

Eirene's fist knocks Urien off his feet.

Urien knocks a young couple's drinks into their laps.

And the whole show knocks the place quiet.

The patrons of the booth where Urien first lands - for lack of a better descriptor - cry out and curse when a flurry of nachos, cream soda, and sweet liquor spills across they and Urien alike. They almost jump out of their seats, staring in shock between Urien and Eirene before the Solomani man manages to lift himself from the table and stumble just one booth over before oh-so-conveniently landing in an empty spot next to the ship's captain where the eyes of all the assembled crew settle on him. With more than a few rankled expressions as they watch him in silence for a moment.

Another beat passes.

Then somebody breaks it from over by the dartboards with a gruff, "Your go." To his compatriot.

That seems to be enough to break the sudden tension, and the chatter and clinking of glassware resumes as if nothing had happened. Though the Darrian at the bar shoots the mess made on the floor a withering glare as if trying to force it to clean itself through simple will and loathing. For Eirene and Rhane, the two are regarded as just any other patrons when the tension settles. After all, Eirene would hardly be the first woman to be hit on in this place, and Rhane is an unassuming patron, minding herself off by a table. Why should they be any trouble to worry about?

Urien is still being watched by the crew. Wary. Guarded.

It isn't until the captain gives a grunting laugh, shrugging his shoulders, that the other crew seem to relax around the booth. The ship's captain takes a puff on his pipe held in one hand, while the other plays with the remnants of greasy potato shavings on his plate, "I doubt it. I remember my first wife." And when he laughs at his own comment, the crew join with a round of chuckles. With that, he sticks out one slightly greasy, rough hand to Urien with a stiff force as if trying to jab the man in the ribs, "Captain Daniel Vlaw. Don't let that get you down too much. Women all have their types."

There's some murmurs of agreement. One man mentions his own ex-wife, another how his husbands can get catty with each other. A general air of ease settles over the booth and Urien isn't being wholly regarded as an outsider any longer.

Edited August 1, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Urien, Rhane, Eirene
The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

The Solomani laughed, nursing his sore jaw and shaking the captain's calloused hand. "Mathias Ingelsen. I'll take that into consideration next time." He flagged one of the waiting staff for another pint, and turned to the crew. "I think that's taken a bit out of me for the night. if y'don't mind me yapping on a bit, why don't I get you guys a round as well?" He didn't bother to wait for their affirmative, updating his order for a whole round on him.

He passed the time whilst waiting for their drinks by picking a story out of his memory bank, settling on a classic. "-then would you believe it, I talk to the port mechanic and he charges me five big ones to swap an oil filter?" As the beers arrived, Urien asked if he could get a raw egg to go with it. "It's morning somewhere in this galaxy, I tells you."

Cracking open the egg into his pint, then downing half of the frothy drink in a single go. "That's good, makes me think another slap's worth it, y'know?" He giggled at his own joke.

"Trying to get a handle of the locale around these parts, haven't been here often. The ol' rig's still pounded until I get that damn drive fixed. So what's fun 'round here, who's toes do I gotta avoid?"

Urien belched, shaking his head. "Better yet, heard some sorta business about some raid. I don't gotta worry about that around these parts, do I?"

Edited August 3, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Urien, Rhane, Eirene
The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

The table accept Urien well enough, especially when there's talk of bringing drinks to the table. They play to the story well enough and their voices join the general atmosphere of conversation around the establishment. If they desire, Eirene and Rhane can both draw reasonably close without attracting any attention to things.

Then Urien mentions the raid and the table goes quiet.

The other members of the crew all look at Urien, then seemingly as one they look to their captain. His expression is hard to read. Grim anger? Pride? Some medley? It shifts but he looks to regard Urien, "Don't worry about that. Ain't a place in space without opportunistic sorts." He grunts, "We were coming in when a scout came running in - course was too tight. Felt wrong." He shakes his head, "We were hauling grain and gear from Asim, and we weren't looking for trouble. We'd just slipped past the jump shadow and were making for the Highport."

He's speaking with his hands, one hand clearly being his vessel, the other the Scout/Courier, "She comes in and flips to burn and match. Next thing we know, she's on the comms saying we need to stand and come to for cargo." And then he's grinning, a vicious thing, "But my old girl? She's got some nasty surprises. Dura here" he nods to a large man, sitting mute this whole time, stocky and covered from the neck down with a whole myriad of ink, "and a pair of pop-up doubles. Real mess for any pirates who want to wrestle." He chuckles. A few join him, one shouldering against the aforementioned crewmate, "We burn her amidship."

He prods Urien roughly, twice. Once in the chest, once in the stomach, "Here. Here."

He shakes his head, "And they turn scared. I hear their captain - sounded Vargr - screaming for them to make the jump. They turned and burned. Heard them saying they were making for Borite." Another laugh, a puff on his pipe, "Wasn't till we were told to hold off the highport and made the downport that we learned she was a part of that whole mess up there."

 

---

 

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Kesper, Mahan
Provost's Office, Torpol Downport
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

The Provost regards Mahan for a moment before he nods, "Of course, of course. I understand the need for discretion!" He leans over to tap at his console - uncomfortably close to you, letting you catch the heavy scent of tropical-themed perfume - and with a few key-presses you are presented with a copy of contact information, "This is for my front desk, and I'll enter a flag to prioritize any messages from your vessel on down-link from the Highport. The other Provosts are... they can be trusted, but management of the bounty falls to me!" He nods again, "And do remember, dead or alive, just so long as you can provide proof they were the culprits!" And with that, he steps around his desk, seeming to feel the conversation is over and beckoning you to follow, "If you have any questions then I can be reached easily enough! Fair travels, travellers!"

[Emmettmcglynn]

"Thank you, Provost. We won't disappoint you." Mahan says, rising and shaking the man's hand. With a nod to Kesper, he turns to leave and strides back through the lobby. After departing the building, he took his mobile comm from his pocket and punched in the group's number while still walking at a brisk pace. That way, he hoped, anyone who overheard him would only catch snippets of the converstation.

"This is the Captain speaking." He said, trying to enunciate his words clearly through the background noise that seemed to be coming through. "We have the ships involved and one captain's identity. We're looking for the Argo 1, Argo 2, and Misery's Company. Repeat, the Argo 1, Argo 2, and Misery's Company. They're a Far Trader, Vulture Salvage Hauler, and a Scout/Surveyer respectively. The Company is captained by a Vargr named Krrsh and was involved in an altercation with a ship named the Sarcomod on its escape. I have further information, but that has to wait for in person.

With that, he pockets his comm again and turns to Kesper, finally stopping. "Anything else you want to get done while we're here? I'd like to grab a few things for the ship's computer that Rachando didn't have, though I'm not sure this place will either."

Edited August 3, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

Tlaiowaha Subsector
Urien, Rhane, Eirene
The Rusty Rogue, Torpol Downport, Lower Levels
012 (Week 1) 1105, Imperial

It wasn't hard to feign anger. "Bloody hell, there's no saving some folks, is there?" Urien let the captain and his crew to converse among themselves as Mahan's voice plunged into his ear. Comparing the information seemed to verify Vlaw's information regarding the scout, though something still itched Urien the wrong way.

"Borite's a pretty low-tee sort of planet, ain't it?" He mused aloud, scratching his jaw. "S'pose if you're gonna hide from authorities that'd be the place to go. Say - you say you came from Asim, yeah? What's the news over there?" Urien kept the flow of alcohol coming, though made sure he didn't drink any more himself, encouraging them to partake in his stead. He kept the questions coming steadily, querying them about their knowledge of the local political figures and if they've heard any other juicy gossip around the Sindalian space.

"Myself, I swung around from Scaladon - Blue Jasper -" Urien didn't bother verifying if there was such a ship in port, gambling on his luck. " - doing cargo runs 'till our charter brought us here, passing for Floria. Long journey ahead, ship drive failure gonna make it longer, just our luck too." He grumbled, massaging his jaw.

[Sneaksby]

By the time the meeting came to a close, Kesper had managed to finish his first drink. His teeth ached and he felt he might gag if he started on the other one. Casting about for some way to dispose of it, he eventually shrugged and casually placed it in the Provost's hand on his way out.

"The man wears his heart on his sleeve," He sighed, "His reaction was pretty genuine."

Kesper continued to speak in a vague, roundabout way, conveying his findings without saying aloud, 'I rooted through his mind like a hog in a turnip patch'.

"But a name occurred to me in there. Not familiar to me, but worth looking into. Someone named 'Darokyn' and their 'cronies'. He seems to think they might have something to do with it."

Edited August 9, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

"Yes," Mahan deadpans, "you've always been good at reading people."

He taps his chin thoughfully for a moment before continuing. "We should check the name out, he might be a public figure. Not much we can do in the way of on the ground investigation, since we'll want to set out as soon as we have a trail, but we can crack open the ship's computer and do some research, see if we can't pick up something on him. It's a solid lead, great work Kesper."