1.3 - Ain't No Rule Saying a Dog Can't Play Pirate (Closed)

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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.

Edited November 24, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Emmettmcglynn]

As the ground crew hailed Mahan furrows his brow in confusion. After a moment's deliberation passes over his face, he shrugs visibly. "Affirmative, Borite. We'll stick to the beacons. Don't want any trouble." He says, keeping his tone polite. There was no reason to make a negative first impression on future friends, after all.

Touching down the Harrier he stands from the captain's chair and steps up to the ornate railing, clapping his hands to draw attention from the assembled crew.

"Right, we may have to split here depending on what we want done, but before we do I'd like to sort out our Vargr guest. I intend to stay and talk to him before heading out, but if we're going to interrogate him without all hands we should go in with a list of basic questions to run through so we cover all our bases. I myself want to know why he jumped to Borite, with whom and for how long he's been working for, who succeeded his Captaincy from him, and where we should look for the Company. I plan on offering him clemency for his cooperation, and to keep to that, so if there are any objections voice them now."

[Dastardly Tristar]

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219)
Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
Landed at Downport, Borite
019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial

Urien watched silently as the Borites made themselves feel in charge- in power. The only problem to that idea was that the Reclaimer had more than enough firepower to turn the whole area into one smoking crater; it was a good thing Urien was far more diplomatic than a few well known Solomani generals. Judging by the radio message they received, it seems like the planet's telecommunications network wasn't as primitive as he was lead to believe, though it wasn't a high bar.

He was among the few passengers by the loading ramp, taking in the breath of fresh, unrecycled air. The warmth of the sun felt good on his skin, and though he wandered around the 'landing pad', it wasn't more than a few meters away from the ship. He returned after he did a couple of full perimeter laps, stretching and grunting as he went. It was a good excuse to get eyes on the local defenses and atmosphere as well.

Eventually he returned to the ship, shaking the dust of the planet by the foot of the loading ramp. He had slipped out of his vacc-suit, exchanging it for a snug fitting, two-seasons-old clothing set; armored, and deceptively so. He had to use one of the spare berths to change, now that the passengers were off board and Krrsh occupied his room.

As he returned to the bridge he heard Mahan speak of clemency - against a pirate? He slipped into a seat and cracked his neck, sighing in between each satisfying 'crack'. "If he is part of the bounty, that offer might as well be a lie." He countered, rolling his shoulders. "I doubt the Provost is willing to let even one of them go unanswered. Especially the 'captain'."

"Personally, I vote to shove him in a low berth, freeze him until it is over and collect the bounty. After we squeeze every bit of information from him as well."

Edited September 9, 2023 by Dastardly Tristar (see edit history)

[Kiro Haas]

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219)
Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
Landed at Downport, Borite
019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial

---

On the voyage back from the Delta Vee, Rahne had taken the opportunity to exchange her vacc-suit for her regular clothes, and started to treat Dazl's medical issues, which included treating his broken arm, giving him some mild pain-killers to deal with his many bruises, and having a solid meal prepared. The enhanced humanoid had been showing the symptoms of some mild malnutrition, and given his adrenaline crash, he'd need some solid food and electrolytes and sugars. And, Rahne suspected, his enhanced physiology and his many redundant organs and his extremely elevated endocrine system - her medical scanner had initially made her think he was suffering from tachycardia because of the speed of his heartbeats - had also supercharged his metabolism. He simply had more things to power, and his body was redesigned to operate on a different level to baseline humaniti.

As the ship landed, she joined Urien in exiting the ship. But as he jogs about the Intent, Rahne takes a deep breath to simply enjoy non-recycled fresh air, before producing her scientific toolkit and mediscanner to examine the air, both due to an abundance of caution and curiosity. It was always curious to discover what a planet's atmosphere contained, even if there wasn't anything toxic or dangerous in it. Just knowing what kind of pollen and seeds and microbial lifeforms were in the air was always intriguing to her, particularly compared to the sterility of spaceships.

As she followed Urien back to the bridge, she voices her agreement with the Solomani spy. "I must agree with Urien, Captain," the Darrian doctor says, idly leaning against the seat of the gunnery position with her arms crossed across her chest. "While I'm disinclined to engage in kidnapping or removing a sophont's freedoms against their wills, it is likely he was part of the pirate crews, and the local planetary systems would take a very dim view to us releasing any pirates to hide on a world like Borite, where he could slip away for good," she elaborates, drumming the fingers of her right hand against her left arm.

"Interring him in a cryoberth seems to be our best option for now, unless you wish for dear Kesperziaiepr and Astrid - he seems to have some kind of phobia towards feliniforms - to conduct a psychic interrogation of him, which might be a viable option regardless, however distasteful it may be."

[Sneaksby]

Kesper briefly made an appearance after landing, taking in the sights and fresh air, making a point to smile and wave at the swarming troops. However he felt only pity seeing the ramshackle defenses and nervous, ill equipped soldiers. Simple folks like the Borites should be tending their fields and seeing to their industry in peace, not cowering in fear of raiders.

Rather than step off the ship, Kesper turned to go back inside and poked around until he heard rumor of their newest passenger's whereabouts. Once he clapped eyes on the big man, he had to resist the urge to twist his expression into one of disgust. He could only hope that Rahne's theory that the man was a slave-soldier of the Glorious Empire was correct, as the thought that the utter mutilation he had endured was by choice filled Kesper with unutterable loathing. This appalling violation of self could be put to good use, if the man could be convinced to join them...even if the notion made him feel sick.

Burying his feelings for now, he casually sauntered in.

"Dazl? I'm Kesper. Got something for you."

Taking a seat next to the big man, he produced a mobile comm he took from the ship's stores and handed it over.

"It has a text-to-speech function, or you can just type if you prefer. Keep it."

With a smile, Kesper also showed a little tray carrying two short glasses filled with brown liquor that he got from the mess. Perks of being on a Drinaxi vessel, the good stuff was always on tap. He gave the man a glass, took his own and clinked it to Dazl's.

"To the fallen," He said, and punctuated it with a long sip, letting the liquor burn down his throat.

"Did you know them well?" He asked conversationally, nodding slightly toward the bodies of the Delta Vee's crew.

Edited September 10, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[Niraverine]

She stifled the urge to roll her eyes. Jumping to conclusions and rash decisions seemed to be a favoured past time for the Humaniti everywhere.

"We need to first be sure Krssh indeed is a part of the bounty", Eirene started slowly. "I don't trust him but for now we don't have a proof he was among those who attacked Torpol... his race and the eerily similar name that he gave us are not enough until he spills." She grimaced then continued after a pause. "That said, there's a reason he was abandoned to become a snack and I'd like to know it - it would tell us with whom exactly we are and will be dealing."

The corsair leaned on the closest console and tapped her fingers on it, the gesture indicating some impatience. "Personally, I'd remind him that he no longer owes his companions anything because they left him to a gruesome death... but he owes us, for that rescue and free ride to the, uh-" She glanced at the panels displaying the view of their landing pad, surrounding area, trenches and the guarding force. "-civilisation", she finally finished with a slightly ironical inflection. She continued after a beat. "Depending on his personality, he might enjoy the idea of a pay back against his 'crew'. Promising him anything specific now is however slightly risky. We could push the Provost to do what we want, true, but is this man worth the possible grudge from the world that the king would want in his sphere of influence? I'd make my promise more vague, maybe offer speaking for him, but clemency might be a little too much. I could assist you in your interrogation if you wish so."

She shrugged again and crossed her arms loosely, seemingly not having anything else to say.

[Emmettmcglynn]

"Precisely my thoughts, Eirene, thank you. Instead of offering him clemency and booting him off on Borite, I intend to make use of him as an asset against his erstwhile crew. If we plan to become pirates as part of our mission then we're going to have to make friends in the underground and a rescue is a good first impression to make. Regardless, the objections on the clemency are noted, so I will not offer him clemency for aid outright. I will be conducting an interrogation however, and not simply putting him in low berth without making any use of him because that would be a tremendous waste of potential."

Tapping his fingers idly against the railing he nods down to the rest of the crew.

"Well then, I'll go and conduct the interrogation now. He'll only sit tight for so long and I have things I'd like to get done here on Borite so we need to get this squared away quickly. I would appreciate your expertise, Eirene, so you are welcome to join. If he's uncooperative he'll go in the low berth, but I suspect he'll be wanting to get back at those who left him to play with the Chamax pair. If he's going to work with us he'll need at least a little freedom of movement even if it is under supervision."

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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."

[Dastardly Tristar]

Borite / Sindal (Trojan Reach 2219)
Urien, Rhane, Lindsey, Eirene, Kesperziaiepr, Mahan
Landed at Downport, Borite
019 (Harrier, Week 2) 1105, Imperial

Urien recalled Astrid to his side, and had to bend his knees as she leapt from the cupboard and landed on his shoulders. Curled up around his neck, it gave him the appearance of a very furry scarf. It mewed as the group walked passed the kitchenette, but remained otherwise firmly planted on Urien's shoulders, even as he pulled a seat for himself. He didn't take a seat just yet, as the Vargr inquired for a meal, and Urien rummaged into the cabinets.

He eventually returned with two steaming cups of hot coffee, and handed the wolf a bowl of kimchi noodles, topped with shredded cucumbers, layered slices of ham and a hardboiled egg. With one cup for Krrsh and one for himself, he returned to his seat and stroked Astrid gently, eyeing their captive from the corner of his eyes.

"I would not worry about all 'that' for now." He gestured with one hand. Astrid slinked off at his command, weaving between his legs.

"Let us start with general introductions first, shall we? I am -" He paused, recollecting his old personas. "-Olaf Sigurdsson. Let us operate on that for now. My companions can introduce themselves if they wish. See, we just have a few questions that need answering, and we were hoping you could give them truthfully. "

Urien waited until the Vargr ate the meal provided, and smiled. He made sure the Vargr could see the vial he was toying with in his hand, spinning it idly in the galley lights. The liquid inside was clear, and to Urien's mind it was simply water. But for the Vargr- "I think you will want this in three minutes, which should be enough time to establish a few concrete facts. Shall we return to the first? Your name - your actual name - and why you were found on the derelict station with two very angry bugs, please."

 

[Emmettmcglynn]

When Urien and the Vargr arrived in the galley Mahan was already reclining in a chair, his longcoat draped over the back, sipping from a glass of water. When Urien began the classic song and dance of the bad cop, albeit a markedly more radical than most cases, he remains calm and silent. Only after Urien had given his full pitch does the Captain lean forward with a more sympathetic expression and less hostile posture.

"We don't have to be on different sides here," he says in a soft voice, "as you've already said, we're not holding this conversation in the airlock. All we need is for you to answer truthfully about what happened and what happened to the rest of your crew."

Edited September 15, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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!"

[Emmettmcglynn]

"Interesting, all very interesting. Your cooperation is appreciated." Mahan notes, "However you haven't answered why you were on that station. For that matter, who took over from you when you were marooned and what was the status and location of your estwhile crew when you last saw them?"

He takes a moment after questioning to jot down the news from Krrsh on a notepad before continuing.

"We found a wrecked A2 Far Trade, the Delta Vee, and your people were identified by one of its crew. What was your involvement in its destruction, and your relationship before it was brought down?"

"Answer our all questions, and we'll consider it. However we can't let you off too quickly - we have no way of confirming that the cache or your contacts are real until we've reached it and met them. We'll have to hold onto you at least that long."

Edited September 15, 2023 by Emmettmcglynn (see edit history)

[DJ P4NTSL3SS]

---

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."

Edited September 15, 2023 by DJ P4NTSL3SS (see edit history)

[Sneaksby]

The very soul of politeness, Kesper pretends not to notice the clumsy toast or Dazl's ineffectual fiddling with the mobile comm. Internally he was curious at the man struggling with a rather basic device designed to be used by people with no electronic expertise. What kind of background would cause that?

He nodded at each introduction as he nursed his drink, and after a quiet moment, simply said, "I'm sorry for your loss, truly. But I'm happy we were able to save you, at least." Kesper gave him a smile tinged with sadness.

"We almost ignored your ship completely to go directly groundside and unload our passengers, thought you were looking for someone to fly high guard for you. Why weren't you signaling distress?"

"I guess you may as well tell the whole story while you're at it. You were listening to a dog on the radio, I'm assuming you mean a vargr?"

Edited September 17, 2023 by Sneaksby (see edit history)

[Dastardly Tristar]

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

"So not Hrrsk, but Krrsh." Urien feigned a growl, rubbing his jaw. He decided to switch up things, on the feeling that the mutt's pathetic play was a ruse. Had to make sure that he wasn't just leading them by the nose. Listening in to what he had told Mahan, there was still something off about his story. Urien remembered an old trick a fellow colleague had used before - called it the Bloodhound Stare, was supposed to unnerve and unsettle 'harder' cases that fell on their laps. He had seen it done a few times, but he was fairly confident that he could mimic the stance.

How did it go? The man remained quiet for a few moments, as he adjusted his posture. He narrowed his eyes, focusing on the Vargr's movements - the twitches, the odd inflections and the passing body language that might have been ignored in a casual setting. Breathing slowly, Urien leaned in, resting an arm on his lap and soaking up all the details of this passing conversation.

"Fido. That is what I am calling you right now." His voice went deeper, rougher. It was the voice you'd hear on, say, a drug lord or a chain smoker. It wasn't a question, it was a statement. He let Krrsh squirm under his inspection for an awkward minute, not saying anything further. He took a deep smell, trying not to flinch at the possible stink of an unwashed Vargr.

"You do not strike me as a leader in a wolf pack, Fido. I find it hard to believe you ever became a captain if this is how you react in a shitty situation. Then again, it might explain the mutiny. I would want to eject my captain too, if I knew he was a mewling sop like you. Astrid has more guts than you do." He leaned in close, getting off of his seat and almost going eye-to-eye with the Vargr, and if Krrsh tried looking away his hand would shoot forward and grasped his muzzle, making sure that both of them were staring into one another's eyes.

"Just judging from your explanations, you are a pirate captain formerly in service to one of the major pirate players in the Reach. You are not from Oghman, so why are you surveying this shithole? It does not seem like particularly rich plunder."

Urien dangled the vial of water in front of Krrsh, raising an eyebrow. "Tell us about Redthane, and what is his problem with Darokyn. Summary notes, I do not think you have time for an autobiography, Fido."