After Argent makes his demands, the slow boat is quick to respond. "Merchant ship! Let’s not be hasty now. There have been terrible mistakes made, and let’s avoid any others, shall we? The cutter was just heading towards us following a homing beacon because you destroyed their sensors. The cutter will now decelerate on the course that you indicated, or at least as close to it as they can. We will approach on the course that you indicated for docking.
"Of course we will only have two men in the airlock. However, they will be armed with pistols only. Twenty million lingdonsallers is a very large sum of money, and we have had too many Imperial traders try to rob us before."
After a few beats, and just a little shy of the deadline, Vasilii’s sensors indicated that the cutter changes its orientation and starts decelerating roughly along the indicated vector. The slow boat also starts maneuvering to come in on the demanded vector.
Meanwhile, Vargas quickly works out the course needed to vector the Keaven onto a new vector and hopefully out of any danger. The thought of putting the hammer down on the M drive makes him shudder some, though.
-----
Martha continues to man her position in engineering, monitoring the ship’s sensors in case this is a ruse to sneak someone onto the outside or into the vessel itself.
-----
After listening to the various arguments going back and forth over the suit comms, Ian heads over to the port airlock with Darishun and the Doc.
"Captain, I’m at the port lock now, prepared to receive visitors."
Turning to the others, he grins at Darishun and says to Saro: "Well Doc, with that slight tremor in your hand, you’ve got that ‘This could go off accidentally anytime’ look about you, which is no good right now. We want these guys to be calm, not nervous, so things go smoothly.
"However, we also don’t want them to feel like they can pull a fast one and get away with it. Stand over there behind these boxes where they can see you but you have good cover. Set your pistol on top of the boxes. That way it won’t shake and you’ll have a nice supported firing position. We’ll put our package down here right in front of the lock where they can see it.
"Darishun, if you could take a position on the other side of the Doc. Not too close, we don’t want them too nervous. But we do want them to see part of you and that lovely rifle.
"I’ll take the center and move forward with the goods after we’ve seen the color of their money. They’ll probably want to see inside ours before they take it, too. I’m less intimidating than Darishun but calmer than you, and I’m better armored. If anything goes wrong, just try not to shoot me in the back, OK? How’s that sound to you fellas?"
"Do not worry Mr. McConnell," Saro says. "It is always like this for me. I get a bit nervous to begin with, but I’ve transplanted brains successfully, so my hand tremor will stop as soon as things get real. It’s the wait that I can’t stand."
"So now you know why us military types like stand formally with both hands behind our backs. I hate the waiting, too. How about a power ballad to fill the next 5 minutes or so?"
Darishun’s eyes widen noticeably while he pauses in his crate moving to turn his massive head to the side and regard Ian with what could only be interpreted as a mixture of horror and revulsion. Saro bumps into the large sophont with a box of Marine rations marked "Eolquu Green Eggs and Hqygyn Ham, 24 Count" when the Virushi pauses but luckily misses the look, being on the other side of Darishun from Ian.
Saro smiles widely. "Excellent idea! I've had ‘Fragrt Hgarv Ihytrle’ in my head for the past few days. They don’t come any better than that. It was No. 1 in the Sentry Vargr Top 40 for 10 weeks straight!"
He then starts belting out: "GRRTTHHREEEEEEE!! HGARVVVVVV!! HJJHTAAAAAA!! FRAGRT HGARV . . . " into the intercom system for everyone’s enjoyment.
"Ow, now that’s loud," Ian thinks. "Hmm. I kind of dig it, though. Fragrt Hgarv."
-----
"Ghedze aezo aka virrzang . . . ," mumbles Vargas under his breath as he monitors his panel.
Vasilii winces, then turns down his volume to the bare minimum.
-----
Darishun sighs visibly, turns down the volume and wonders, "Maybe we could pipe that song to the incoming slow boat and cutter, and then they’d just leave us alone? Isn't there some human saying about the cure being worse than the disease? Well, at least it wasn't a K’Kree song."
-----
Martha smiles to herself as she begins recording Saro’s festive singing. "When we get back to civilization," she thinks, "I’ll get the music to this and make a mix for him."
She winces as he sings off-key. "Then again, maybe I can use this as a weapon later."
-----
Swann listens to the plans being discussed over the comm system. When he hears that his turret will basically be useless during the exchange, he decides to join the welcoming party at the port airlock. He notifies the bridge crew that he is returning targeting control for the starboard turret to them and heads to the port side of the ship.
He arrives to find Saro, Ian and Darishun arranging boxes to make a defensive position, and the Doc singing. "Hi guys. Have room for a fourth?" He turns his back on the group so Saro cannot see him grimace, quickly looks over the area, and makes a decision. "Ian, I’m going to need my shotgun and my auto pistol from the ship’s locker. And if you could leave the door open, I’ll take up a position standing in front of it. That way, I can provide some flanking cover for you at the airlock, and will have someplace to duck for cover if any shooting starts. I don’t think it will, but better safe than sorry."
Swann puts his accelerator rifle back in the ship’s locker, but keeps his snub pistol. He places the rifle where he can grab it if needed. He loads the auto pistol with a clip and tucks it inside his belt. Then he loads the shotgun, adjusts the choke to give it the tightest shot–pattern possible, and stand with it right in front of the door to the ship’s locker and to the right of the port airlock.
The next 10 minutes seem to crawl. The cutter continues decelerating roughly along the indicated vector. The slow boat also follows Argent’s directions and comes in on a vector to put it between the decelerating cutter and the Bray Keaven. Of course, given that things are proceeding a little too smoothly for once, most of the crew is even more on edge waiting for the inevitable surprise.
The slow boat approaches the Keaven for a head–on docking maneuver with its port side to the Keaven's port side. As the boat comes within visual range, the bridge crew notes that the slow boat doesn’t seem to be quite a normal workhorse slow boat that might be seen around Sentry. For one thing, the deep Imperial purple with yellow highlights color scheme is spit polish bright. Next, the standard port side cargo lock appears to be missing and there are more viewports on either side including a rather large one more commonly seen on an observation deck. "Looks more like a yacht’s launch than a working boat," thinks Vargas.
On the Bray Keaven, in the corridor by the port lock, Ian, Saro, Swann, and Darishun complete their preparations. Darishun stands in the doorway of the cabin across from the airlock with Ian right in front of the airlock. Saro is behind some Marine ration crates placed as cover in front of the makeshift sickbay in the next cabin. Swann stands in front of the ship’s locker, ready to support Ian.
A few minutes before docking, and what seems like after a lifetime to Darishun, Saro finishes his ballad and is about to start into another when Argent takes advantage of the break to call out, "A minute or two to docking. All hands stand by. Let’s see how they play this one."
-----
The clang of the slow boat docking with the Bray Keaven reverberates through the ship, and Martha swears under her breath as visions of a crumpled port side flash before her eyes.
-----
On the bridge, Argent receives another transmission from the slow boat. "Merchant ship. We have docked. We are sending two officers aboard now with the 20 million lingonsallers. You will have the antivirals and information ready to exchange. Our officers will be armed with pistols for their own protection, and we assume that you will be armed, too. Let us avoid any future misunderstandings and conduct this exchange quickly."
-----
Through the airlock port, Ian can see the slow boat’s airlock cycle, and the boat’s outer airlock open. Ian then opens the outer door of the Bray Keaven’s airlock, and two figures in extremely bulky vacc suits step through, each carrying two suitcases, one in each hand. Ian’s eye immediately notes the gauss pistols each figure wears on a belt clumsily strung around each suit’s waist. "Low–tech vacc suits and a gauss pistol? What an odd combination," thinks Ian.
Ian waits until the boat’s airlock cycles closed before he closes the Keaven’s outer door. As the figures wait, Ian glances at Swann, Saro, and Darishun, waiting until each nods, and then cycles the inner airlock door.
Swann takes a deep breath and exhales slowly to calm his nerves. "This is going to go smoothly," he tells himself. "They have more to lose than we do if this exchange doesn’t come off without a hitch. I just hope they realize that."
As the two figures step out of the airlock, Swann focuses on their weapons. He keeps his trigger finger along side the trigger of his shotgun.
"Welcome aboard, gentlemen," he says to the new guests in a friendly tone of voice. "Please keep your hands where they can be seen at all times, and please do not make any sudden moves. We’re all a little nervous here, so let’s just complete the exchange as smoothly as possible, without any unfortunate occurrences."
Ian wants to see the insides of the cases to check for nasty surprises before he brings them fully on board. He even lifts out the cash to look under it and fan the bundles to make sure they aren’t doing the old newspaper bills trick, before letting them cycle out the air lock.
As for the cash itself, he looks to make sure it has some kind of anti-forgery watermark, inserted metallic strip, or different serial numbers, and that it appears it is properly printed on quality paper rather than maybe just color photocopied. Having never seen a Lingdonsland buck before, he hopes it looks real.
Saro holds the box in his hands and waits for Ian to check the briefcases. His pistol rests on top of the crate. When the Lingdonslanders look at him he nods slightly but remains serious.
-----
Vasilii is watching the sensor screen for any sign of misconduct by the cutters.
-----
Martha continues to monitor ship sensors for potential intruders or any "extras" that might get clamped to the outside of the vessel under the cover of this transfer.
As the inner airlock door slides open, the Lingdonsland officers’ cold, calculating eyes dart from Ian’s armored form at an aggressive parade rest to Swann’s shotgun held only slightly away from being trained on them. When they realize the thing behind Ian is some sort of armed and armored creature, and not some huge, ugly statue, they completely freeze except for their mouths, which seem to just hang open in mid breath.
Into that breach, Swann genially addresses the officers. "Welcome aboard, gentlemen," he says to the new guests. "Please keep your hands where they can be seen at all times, and please do not make any sudden moves. We’re all a little nervous here, so let’s just complete the exchange as smoothly as possible, without any unfortunate occurrences."
At this point, Darishun’s normally quiet and gently soft voice booms deeply and resonantly from his suit speakers. "Of course, we would like to conclude this transaction as smoothly as possible, but, if things go slowly, perhaps you can stay for dinner and we can serve you as well."
Darishun then smiles, showing as many of his teeth as possible, and regards the officers as if trying to decide which sauce would best compliment sautéed officer.
Without looking over his shoulder or missing a beat at the change in Darishun’s voice and manner, Ian remarks, "Now Darishun. I’m sure that these officers want things to go smoothly and quickly so that they can return to their ship and their leader. So, towards that end, would you please open each case so that I may inspect it?"
Their eyes never wavering from watching Darishun nervously, the officers open each case in turn for inspection. Ian quickly checks the stacked bills in each case as best as he can as well as checking for anything odd in the cases. The bills do seem to have anti-forgery watermarks consistent with TL-7 anti-counterfeiting techniques. The cases do not appear to contain anything odd.
To Swann’s more practiced eye, the bills also seem to be legitimate for lower tech currency, and also ridiculously easy for some of his old associates to duplicate. "Jeez, the Girelli’s would take, maybe 15 minutes during dinner to duplicate that amount," he thinks.
After completing his inspection, Ian nods to Saro, who hands him the foam box containing the data cube and antiviral courses. Ian then hands the case to the officers for inspection. The officers hesitantly open the box to check its contents and tentatively ask, with none of the arrogance exhibited by the slow boat’s captain, "So, the data and the antiviral courses are all in here?"
Saro replies quickly, "Yes, good sirs. Four courses of antivirals — with instructions and all information that I could obtain from my records on how to produce them. I don’t have exact instructions, but the information contained should help your scientists get started. I wish that I could give you more information."
"Thank you, gentlemen. I think that, we, uh, have to go now. Would you please cycle the airlock so that we can leave?" was the reply.
With that, the officers step fully back into the Bray Keaven’s airlock, wait for the lock to cycle completely, and return to the Lingdonsland slow boat. A few seconds after the officers return, the slow boat undocks and starts to move off.
-----
On the bridge, Vasilii, Argent, and Vargas all breath a collective sigh of relief quickly followed by Argent’s muttered, "Wait a second. That was a little too easy and smooth.
"Ian, scan that cash top to bottom," he adds. "Explosives, poisons, bugs, anything. And don’t limit yourself to low-tech stuff; scan for modern techniques as well. Once you’re satisfied it’s safe, lock it down. We’ll scan it again once we land."
Switching the internal comms off, Argent turns to Vargas. "Get us back on course, best possible descent."
-----
Swann quickly returns his weapons to the ship’s locker, then exits. He looks at the rest of the greeting party. "I think we should send their Ignorant Leader a thank you note complimenting his men on their professionalism. Now, if you all will excuse me, I have a turret to man."
He quickly returns to the starboard turret to watch the cutter and slow boat as they depart. Once settled in, he asks the bridge to return targeting control for the starboard turret to him.
As the turret’s crosshairs again caress the image of the departing cutter, he begins to think, "I wonder what you could buy with that much money on Alief?"
-----
Saro is very relieved the exchange went on without difficulties. He doesn’t even look at the cases with the money. "Well, unless one of you needs something from me, even if it’s just conversation, I think I will go back to my station and catch up on my Theological Digest. That was a very professional job. Kudos.
"Do not hesitate to contact me if any of you are not feeling well. I for one, can’t wait until we are planetside actually doing what we came here to do."
The surgeon then starts heading back to the elevator.
"Nice job everyone," Ian says. Leaving the cases with Darishun, he heads off after Saro. "Say Doc, I do have one question. If we are about to drop into a plague zone, shouldn’t we be starting on a course of drugs now? I mean, if there is a riot I’m sure we’d all be a little happier knowing we were as immune as we can be from the get go? Right?"
Saro turns around to speak to Ian, then decides to turn on his suit comm to speak to the entire crew. "Mr. McConnell has asked me about taking the antivirals prophylactically. That is not standard procedure, because it really isn’t a vaccine. We would need to keep a particular concentration of drug in our bloodstream for that to work. We would be taking incredible amounts of the antivirals, and they do have side effects. Plus it is wasteful and we could run out before we actually need them.
"Standard procedure would be for us to keep our vacc suits on all the time and only take them off in a clean zone after decontamination with at least two measures. If there is any suspicion at all that someone was exposed then immediately that person would get a prophylactic course.
"This mission is definitely going to be tough, so I hope you are all prepared. The moment any of you feels even a bit sluggish or feverish, or God forbid you cough, come to me. I hope to come up with a quick detection assay, but in the meantime we'll just get a course of antivirals at the slightest suspicion of exposure. I will also work on a vaccine.
"Martha, and the other technically minded people in the crew: What are the chances of coming up with a contraption to aerolize 5 percent hypochlorite, and another to create a vacuum, and a bank of full–spectrum light? It would be perfect if we could use all three known measures to kill the virus in the decontamination zone. Any thoughts?"
Vasilii slowly releases his breath through clenched teeth. Armed trade exchanges were so inefficient, but what could one expect of people who shot first and talked afterward? At least the ’Lingos hadn't started shooting during the exchange. He pauses, struck by a thought. "Hmm," he wonders, "Strange that they brought the currency with them. Why would they haul that amount of cash around if they intended to hijack us? If they intended to negotiate, why risk combat? I’m sure that the damage to their cutters was at least equal to the amount that they gave us, probably more since I doubt they have the parts to fix that maneuver drive on the one cutter."
Vasilii makes a mental note to pursue that train of thought later.
Shaking his head slightly as he refocuses on the present, Vasilii looks over to the Captain. "Sir, after Mr. McConnell examines the currency, might I suggest a quick exposure to vacuum? We can secure the cases in the airlock and open it for a few moments, whatever the good doctor decides. If any of those Lingdonslanders were exposed, we wouldn’t want to accidentally expose ourselves when we come out of these suits."
Noting that the starboard turret was no longer under computer control, Vasilii leaves the cutter in Mr. Hellinic’s capable hands and tries using the ships’ sensors to pick up any broadcasts from the planet. He scans for any news of the plague and also any that specifically mentions the Bromley/Medway/Lowford areas.
Vasilii also keeps an ear out for any financial news, looking for any possible ventures while the ship is downside. He makes notes as he listens, figuring the Captain will want any information that he can get.
-----
As the crew repositions themselves after the exchange, the Bray Keaven continues on course toward a deorbit into Bromlian airspace. The Lingdonsland slow boat and cutter move off with the slow boat starting a deorbit burn towards the opposite hemisphere from Bromley, presumably towards Lingdonsland. Oddly enough, the cutter stays in orbit, and neither the blind cutter nor the slow boat seem to be interested in going after the cutter with the dead maneuver drive.
-----
Ian takes the cases, opens them in the port airlock, and then cycles out the air. A quick look through the case contents does not reveal anything obviously odd. While examining the contents, he contacts Saro on the internal suit comms. "Doctor? Would it be possible to run these through the imaging tables?"
Saro’s response is fairly rapid. "Yes, I suppose so once we get the tables set up and calibrated. I’m not entirely sure what will be revealed, but there might be something that makes sense to you or Swann."
-----
Meanwhile, Vasilii starts searching the numerous local broadcasts for helpful information. The broadcasts are full of information about the plague’s advance. The rapid initial spread seems to have slowed a bit in Wirral and Hillingdon, but the death toll is still climbing unabated in Coventry. All countries have declared a state of emergency and international transport has ground to a halt. Vasilii sifts through numerous reports of riots as panicked people stream out of large cities and into the countryside all around the globe.
King George’s Land is still insisting that its forces are merely providing humanitarian aid to Wirral, Hillingdon, and Coventry, but has made vague threats that any unlawful and unwarranted attacks against King George’s Land would be met by "a sickening devastation." Most commentators seem to view this threat as a tacit admission that the virus was engineered.
There are some reports of people in unaffected countries selling antiviral preventatives, but most of the reports seem to dismiss these preventatives as completely useless.
Vasilii does retrieve some information about Bromley. The plague area in the north seems to be somewhat contained and is spreading a little slowly because of the sparse population. The media reports indicate that the capital of Medway was severely stricken, but the military did have the area mostly contained, though the containment area seems to be expanding, so there is suspicion that the military is not revealing everything.
Surprisingly, Vasilii is able to find a financial broadcast with exchange rate information. Lingdonsland is very isolationist, so the exchange rate isn’t very good. The rate from Lingonsallers to Bromlian Pounds is currently pegged at 15.32 Lingonsallers for each Bromlian Pound. The exchange rate from Bromlian Pounds to Imperial Credits was currently 10.67 Pounds to 1 Imperial Credit.
-----
As the Bray Keaven starts to hit the upper reaches of the atmosphere, she receives a comm from Bromley. "Bromley AeroSpace Control to Bray Keaven, please come in Bray Keaven."
"Bray Keaven here. Marcus Argent, acting captain, speaking."
"Bray Keaven, this is General Jansen of the Bromley AeroSpace Control speaking. We’re really glad that you're almost here. We have a fighter escort ready to meet you as soon as you hit 18,000 meters. They will escort you to the Groves Airport where we have a research and treatment station in place."
"Very well, Bromley, and thank you," Argent states. "Descending to 18,000 meters."
To no one in particular, Vargas comments, "Fighter escort? We might want to keep an eye out for inbound threats unless they’re just trying to be friendly."
-----
Swann listens to the radio traffic with interest. "A fighter escort?" he thinks. "Hmmm. I wonder how this laser would do in atmosphere? And I wonder what the reception is going to be like once we land? Will we have to keep the natives off the ship with weapons? Come to think of it, how will the local authorities react to our weapons and us? Will they try to confiscate the higher tech stuff? Will they let us carry any weapons at all? This whole mission just keeps getting better and better."
Swann starts checking the targeting system to see if he can detect the fighter escort yet.
-----
"Fighter escort, that’s nice," Ian thinks. "Of course, that means that there’s a possibility of unfriendly activity. I hope Swann keeps his eyes peeled."
Over the ship’s comm Ian says, "It’s fine by me to stay suited until we get a better look at the reception committee. So, Martha, which airlock do you want the showers set up in? I’ll be there in a jiffy!"
While waiting for the shower detail to get under way, Ian looks around the cargo bay for a suitable box. Switching the contents of the box with the contents of the cases, he is careful to examine each wad of cash separately for die packs or similar anti-theft shenanigans, and quickly gives the empty cases a look-and-feel-over before repackaging them with the stuff from the boxes and writing out new labels for the cases. Then he sticks the box of cash in the ship’s locker.
-----
Vasilii scribbles some notes down while listening to the radio traffic and mutters under his breath, "Let’s see, carry the 4. . . . " When he’s done he looks over to the Captain.
"Sir, the news reports are scrambled but it seems the infection is still out of control down there. The containment area around the capital of Bromley is expanding. I hope that this Lowford town is far enough away for us.
"I’d also like permission to start working on resupplying the ship. If the Doctor wants to rinse everything in a sterilizing solution then I’d like to make sure that we have enough material to last. Personally, I’m tired of these field rations as well. Why people eat this stuff, I’ll never know."
Vasilii chews his lip for a second, then continues. "Also, for those of you who are interested. If the Lingsdonlanders gave us all 20 million then the trade netted us approximately 122,000 Imperial credits. Assuming that the money checks out, I could set up an account with it here for us to draw on. I don’t know how you would like to break down the division, but I could set up separate accounts as well.
"Finally sir, the cutter that Mr. Hellinic damaged is not returning to port like the slow boat. Neither are they attempting to aid the other cutter which is still drifting out-system. Perhaps you might apprise the authorities of what happened and ask them to look into it. It seems most strange, sir, since that cutter has to represent a sizable investment for Lingsdonland."
Vasilii checks his sensors and wonders what the cutter is doing. Concentrating outplanet, he adjusts his sensors and awaits the Captains’ orders.
After giving Vasilii’s report some thought, Argent says, "Go ahead and set up a general account for us, that we can all draw on. And give me a line to the local Imperial representative; we should give them a heads-up on that cutter."
"Yes, sir," Vasilii replies.
While the Captain concentrates on the flight pattern, Vasilii sets up a call to the Imperial representative.
-----
"There goes our salvage bonus," Ian thinks after he hears the exchange between Argent and Vasilii. "Still, the crew probably can't wait a couple of weeks for us to get back to them. Easy come, easy go."
"It’s fine by me to stay suited until we get a better look at the reception committee. So, Martha, which airlock do you want the showers set up in? I’ll be there in a jiffy!"
"Probably the one closest to our sick bay would be my guess. Doc, what do you think?" Martha replies, and then adds quickly as an afterthought. "We may also want to check with the Captain to see if he has any preference in regards to ship security."
-----
As Saro, Martha, Ian and Darishun gather to discuss the contamination chamber, the Doctor hears Vasilii say something over the ship’s comm about acquiring the hypoclorite solution. "I’m so used to hospitals, where disinfectant is readily available. You are right. I don’t know how much we have, but we are going to need a lot. All of us should carry a container with an atomizer. All surfaces should be sprayed with it, at least twice a day. Good thing it’s just bleach, but we are still going to need very large quantities of it. Vasilii, it would be incredibly helpful if you could find a supply. Thank you very much. Way to stay ahead."
Martha makes a mental note to spray her tools after doing any work outside the ship.
Saro then turns his attention to Ian, Martha, and Darishun. "It’s good to be around people who are so skilled. If it wasn’t for you I wouldn’t be able to do any of this setup." Saro smiles, genuinely grateful to have competent people around him.
Martha smiles back, mentally putting Saro in the "technically incompetent" pigeonhole.
He continues: "Now, I was thinking of a double decontamination chamber. In the first one, after we come in from outside, we are kept in a vacuum and irrigated with the hypochlorite solution for about 30 minutes. That should get rid of any virus outside of the vacc suits. Then we take the suits off and walk into the second chamber, which is exposed to full-spectrum light constantly, and stay there for an hour. We should be completely nude when in this chamber, as nothing that has been outside, including clothing, should enter the clean zone. I assume we are making the ship the clean zone. We could keep clean towels that never see the outside in this second chamber for modesty’s sake. This will be the only way in and out of the clean zone.
"The cargo hold can be accessed from outside, right? The cargo hold can be dirty, but then the only way to get from it into the lounge and staterooms, which will stay clean, will be through the decon chambers. Equipment that has been outside should stay outside. Can we make a secure area outside for those things?"
"Umm, Doc, are you sure that making the ship the only clean zone is in our best interests?" Martha asks, also making a mental note not to take her favorite tools outside the ship.
"It is imperative that all of us are very careful to maintain the clean zone," Saro says. "We should use the bleach solution on all surfaces constantly. Air shouldn’t be taken in from outside. Martha, can we maintain the atmosphere inside independent of the one outside?
"Umm, I can handle that last request," Martha says. "The ship uses a dispersed atmospheric control system. Each bulkhead area is thus isolated in its controls; otherwise the anti-hijacking knockout gas would fill up the entire ship when they went off.
"Of course, it’s been over a year since the system’s been fully inspected, but I don’t expect that there should be any cross-contamination going on — unless the old Captain made some modifications that aren’t on the standard blueprints."
"One last thing that I would like to ask all when we finally reach the surface," Saro says. "Do not hesitate to let me or Mr. Darishun know if you feel the slightest thing. We should not take any chances.
"And please, keep your eyes open. One of my favorite anecdotes comes from an old Terran scientist called Snow. Back then, they didn’t know what microorganisms were, yet he was able to stop an outbreak of cholera by doing something very simple: observing that almost everyone who got sick drank from the same water source. The well was closed and -- although they didn’t have a vaccine, they didn’t have antibiotics, in fact they didn’t even know what exactly caused it -- they stopped the outbreak. Infectious agents need a vector and a reservoir. Keep your eyes open. King George’s Land, presuming that they are the culprits, needed to transport and store the virus somehow. Maybe the river, maybe imported foodstuff or products. It could be anything. Keep your eyes open."
The Bray Keaven’s descent through the upper reaches of the atmosphere surround the far trader with glowing red plasma as it streaks towards Bromlian airspace. The descent could have been a perfectly normal one on any other planet except for the events in orbit, and probably those to come.
On the bridge, Vasilii tries to contact the Imperial Consul located in Medway. He reaches an automated answering service that simply wants to take a message. As an alternative, he comms the Wall of Stone via the Imperial communications relay satellite in orbit and warns them about the damaged mining cutter headed away from Alief. The picket isn’t too pleased to hear that the mining cutter was damaged while attacking a vessel under Imperial charter, but does say that they’ll "take care of it," albeit with a slightly ominous tone of voice.
After making the contact, Vasilii turns his sensors towards the cutters. The so–called blind cutter with its sensors damaged or destroyed is probably in orbit on the other side of Alief, currently in the planet’s sensor shadow. The ballistic cutter with its maneuver drive destroyed is still on its course away from Alief and is about to pass out of sensor range.
-----
Vargas continues plotting a course towards a landing at the Groves Airport.
-----
Swann picks up the fighter escort on his targeting displays as they seem to struggle to maintain circles at 18k meters above Alief and right on the edge of the border of Bromley. "Jeez, they must be at the very reaches of their operating altitude for lower tech fighters," he thinks to himself. "And 24 fighters? Either they’re desperate and serious, or they’re worried about some serious trouble."
-----
As the Bray Keaven reaches the 18k altitude mark, one of the fighters radioes the far trader. "Guard Flight Leader to Bray Keaven. We’ll escort you to the Groves Airport outside of Lowford. We’re not expecting any trouble, but we thought that you might like the escort just in case."
"Bray Keaven to Guard Flight Leader. Thank you for the escort. We’ll follow you down," replies Argent.
The rest of the descent to the Groves Airport is surprisingly smooth. While some of the 24 circling turbojet fighters seem to be crowding a little close, like nervous chlofiks around the flocks’ chicks, no one challenges the group, though Vasilii does pick up a circling group of 12 fighters a couple hundred kilometers away in a neighboring country.
The airport traffic control directs the Bray Keaven towards one end of the small airport where a ring of armored vehicles and soldiers stand with their weapons trained outward. What appears to be a reception committee stands just inside the ring on one side while a larger group comprised of soldiers and cargo lift/transport equipment stands on the outside. None appear to be wearing biohazard gear.
-----
After getting an update from the bridge, Saro says, "Well, judging from our welcoming committee we are not yet at the red zone. The ship may never be at the red zone, so we may have to rethink our approach. I thought all of this was going to be a red zone and we were going to be right in it. That doesn’t seem to be the case.
"We might as well wait on setting up the decon chamber and see what happens. It might just be that the ship is staying here and we are going to be installed in some other area. Let’s see what’s what. I am still not OK with just walking out there without protection, but the locals sure don’t seem worried. They did mention something about a treatment center, so I’m sure there are infected people nearby."
Ian says, "Well, call me yellow but I’m staying in my suit. I for one would appreciate it if everyone else was a little paranoid until the Doc tells us it’s safe. As soon as that’s done, and the cargo’s unloaded and set up, I’m all for Hawaian shirts and that adventure holiday we discussed previously."
-----
As the Keaven is on its final approach, Vasilii tries to get in touch with the local quartermaster. The comm officer on the Bromlian side is quite helpful, and Vasilii is quickly patched through to a rather sultry sounding Major Eckels who says that they happen to have plenty of bleach on hand and would arrange to have an amply supply delivered shortly.
Vasilii doesn’t have enough time to try to get in touch with a local banking concern, though, given the call to arrange the hypoclorite takes quite a bit of time. Vasilii decides he’ll be able to chat up Major Eckels a bit once on the ground to find a bank that is still operational given the crisis.
-----
At 2015 Imperial Standard time (and 1615 local time), the Bray Keaven touchs down at the Groves Airport outside of Lowford.
Marcus secures his station, then flips on the internal comms. "Saro and Darishun, you have the cargo; Ian, you’re on security until the locals receive it, then you join me on the tarmac," he orders. "Vasilii, keep working on the account stuff and maybe see if you can find some speculative cargo. Martha and Swann, assess the battle damage and report in.
"Vargas, you’re with me; let’s go meet the locals," he adds.
Pulling his old Navy liberty jacket out of the locker, Argent dons it and nods his head toward the bridge door. "Shall we?"
"Roger that," Vargas says. "Are we packing on this outing or do we just tell them 'We come in peace'?"
-----
"I say pack," Ian says over the comm. "That way, if it turns out later that we need them, we don’t have to do a lot of explaining and running around. They can always provide us with special envoy papers, escorts, or something to stop the local cops from getting too righteous. After all, they’ve got all that hardware lined up out there, so they’re not likely to object. Just take side arms and act natural."
" ‘We come in peace, shoot to kill, shoot to kill’ — I’m never going to get that out of my head," Ian thinks. "As long as the Captain doesn’t say ‘Take me to your leader’ I won't crack up over the comm."
-----
"Right, armed it is." Vargas unstraps from his seat and leaves the bridge headed for his stateroom, a short trip. There he checks on Rusti and sets up his suit to recharge. Vargas dons the chest protection from his ballistic suit, checks and loads his weapons, and then goes to meet the Captain at the airlock. Attired in his old Service field jacket, boloball team cap in place, and shotgun in hand — the auto pistol is tucked in the back of his belt — Emile stands ready to go.
-----
Swann makes a quick trip to his cabin to stow his vacc suit and change into work clothes. He also puts on his flak jacket and places his body pistol with a spare clip into an inside pocket of the jacket. "You can never be too careful around new people," he thinks.
He then heads back to engineering to find Martha. As he enters the engine room, he calls out, "So Martha, what do you think? Did we take any damage from that exchange of laser pleasantries with our new customers back in orbit? I didn’t notice anything hit us, but I was a little busy at the time, concentrating on other things."
He looks around, but doesn’t find Martha anywhere. Moving to the cargo hold, he spots Darishun moving a large cargo container. He asks the Virushi if he knows where Martha can be found, and is informed that she is with Dr. Talbek in the Bray Keaven’s makeshift sick bay.
Shortly after the ship lands, Dr. Talbek pulls Martha to the sick bay. He asks her to sit down and calmly proceeds to question her: "Martha, how are you feeling? How are your dreams?" He listens intently to her response.
"Doc, I’m doing fine." She looks exhausted to his trained medical eye. "I really don’t need any of those damned sleeping pills. I tried one night before last, and even though I slept, I didn’t get any more rest out of it. So I didn’t take any more." She carefully avoids answering the second question.
Saro nods appreciatively. "Perhaps some warm milk? That always does the trick for me.
"My suspicion is that the dreams are not related to the virus. I feel it’s likely that they are due to the star pollen residues. Maybe we could look for trace amounts in your bloodstream, just to make sure?"
Martha looks away. "Yeah, OK, Doc, whatever you want to do. That isn’t the reason why I’m . . . Well, anyway. I’m getting through this, and I can take care of it all later. Trust me, I can handle it."
"I know you can. I’m just worried and I want to consider all possibilities. It wouldn’t do us any good if we lost our best engineer, now would it?"
The surgeon opens up his laptop and fires up the holodisplay. "There is something else on my mind. Martha, I would like to do some testing on you. I know that maybe you were not exposed, but then again you might have been. This is not to alarm you. I believe you are in no danger, but maybe the key to diagnose and even treat this nasty virus could be in you. Let me explain.
"There are people who by genetic variation are immune to certain organisms. Within their genes lies the right code combination to create a specific antibody against the pathogen and as such clear it out of the system. I would like to separate your antibodies and plasma cells, and identify all of them. If we find some that are unknown we could do a proteomic assay and look for specificity. If they match, then I’ll bet we've got our treatment. Would you be willing to try that?"
Weary of the questions, Martha sighs. "Sure, Doc, do what you need to." She starts rolling up her sleeve. "Let’s get this over with, so that I can get back to work." She seems obviously put out, probably exasperated by the irritation due to her lack of good sleep of late.
"I know you must be very tired. This won’t take long at all. Then we can start thinking about how to get rid of this virus and after that, vacation. Wouldn’t that be nice?"
Saro proceeds to draw four tubes of blood, being careful to make it as painless as possible. He uses all the tricks that he knows, from false counts to touching the forearm before the needle strikes.
-----
Swann waits until the Doc finishes drawing the necessary blood samples from Martha, and she finishes discussing the decon showers with him, Darishun, and Ian.
"Martha, I know you are very busy, but I was wondering if I could talk with you briefly? The Captain wants us to check out any possible damage to the ship from our little laser exchange with the cutters back in orbit. I figure you’ve got your hands full with other tasks, so why don’t I take that on, unless you have the time to help."
"No," she says, more gruffly perhaps than she means to, then quickly recovers. "I mean, I can make some time. It’s the ship, after all, and perhaps our only way out of here in an emergency. Let’s run some quick diagnostics, and then we’ll know whether we need to dedicate some time to making the necessary repairs." If anyone is going to be messing with her ship, Martha feels she needs to be involved.
"I don’t remember the ship getting hit during combat," Swann says, "but I was busy concentrating on other things and might not have noticed. Did you notice anything? Do any of your instruments indicate any damage or any unusual readings?"
"As I was monitoring, I didn’t notice anything. However, it wouldn’t hurt to run a Level One Diagnostic, at any rate."
"I’m going to an inspection outside, while we have daylight, and then work my way inside."
"I’ll join you shortly, then, once the tests have run."
Once the discussion with Martha is over, Swann grabs a tool belt and puts it on, equipping it with some basic, general use tools, in particular a flashlight. He then goes to the ship's locker and retrieves his auto pistol and a couple of spare ammo clips. He attaches the pistol’s holster to the tool belt. He then grabs a respirator mask and heads outside to start inspecting the ship for damage.
I hope the crew does not trust Vasilii for correct change.
20,000,000 lingonsallers / 15.32 is 1,305,483.03 bromialan pounds
/ 10.67 is 122,350.80 credits. Is there some skimming going on here?
