Shadowdancer
First Post
Update: I inadvertantly left out some information about Vargas' actions during the initial Marine inspection. I have added it to the post above as it has some bearing on the next series of posts.
Traveller T20: Tales of the Bray Keaven [Updated 12-20-05]
Shadowdancer
First Post
After the group arrives in the lounge and settles in with a round of beverages, Swann looks at the Marine. "Sergeant Tanaka, can you fill us in on what the situation is like planetside? Are the natives friendly or hostile? Is there any rioting going on, or mobs patrolling the streets? Our ship is one of those which will be landing on Alief, and I’m sure we’d all like to know what we’re getting ourselves into when we land."
As the sergeant starts to answer, Ian pulls out his datapad and hunches forward attentively, ready to take notes. "Take your time, Sarge, the more detail the better — provided you aren’t actually breaking any rules, of course. Rest assured, we’ve got lots more questions after this."
Tanaka takes in Swann’s questions and then ruefully replies, "Well, in short, the answer appears to be ‘yes’ to your questions. Mind you, I haven’t been really monitoring the ground action too much, but we can pick up some of the vid broadcasts from the Stoney.
"Some of the locals are pretty friendly towards Imperials, even if you’re not offering military aid to crush their neighbors. Others are only friendly if you are and downright hostile otherwise. Some are just hostile.
"There is some rioting going on in the countries that have areas hit by the plague or are near areas hit by the plague. There are also countries that are concerned and tense, but under control.
"Most areas are now pretty wary if not downright hostile to travelers. Can’t blame ’em too much given that there are a few cities that appear to be infected mainly because a traveler was going through.
"Some of the mercs that landed before the red zone went up a couple of years ago have gotten either antsy or out. There are also some Imperial research teams working on water issues that are getting antsy.
"Basically, people are scared. Scared people can do some pretty stupid stuff, so I’d watch yourselves out there. A tech 8 bullet in your neck or enough of those T-8 missiles up your ship’s ass will kill you just as dead as a plasma gun.
"Here. I’ll dump a couple of maps to your datapads. The first is one that I grabbed from a local vid production showing areas that have been hit by the plague which are near King Georgie’s Land. The second shows the areas where the King Georgies have advanced into neighboring countries to provide 'humanitarian aid in this time of crisis.' What a crock!
"You probably ought to scan the vid broadcasts from the planet for more info. If Lieutenant Flanagan were alive, he could provide you proper intel, but we’re kinda stretched thin just keeping the blockade up given that we have to interdict ships in both directions now. The Navy types fragged a couple of ships halfway between here and Alief that were trying to run to jump distance without inspection or quarantine.
"In short, it’s a damn mess."
Ian nods his head in agreement and then asks, "So, do we have proof it’s a biowep yet? Or a vaccine?"
Tanaka snorts and replies, "Proof? ‘If it quacks like a duck’ . . . No, we don’t have proof. At least, not enough proof that the acting Navy skipper is willing to order the Stoney to start firing on Georgie military installations in retaliation. That’s what the old skipper of the Stoney would’ve done. He was decent for a Navy puke.
"We don’t have a vaccine yet, either. Looks like the scientist types onboard the subsidized merchant have the gear to create a vaccine once they can get something to study.
"The locals are trying to find a vaccine, too. Everyone thinks that the Georgies have a vaccine since their troops are mostly unaffected, and the plague areas have this really funny shape that doesn’t penetrate far into Georgie land. Georgies are denying it right now but say that they’re working on a vaccine, too.
"Anyway, anything else?"
Swann considers for a moment, then asks, "When we land on Alief, are we basically on our own as far as protection, or are there Imperial forces and/or local forces available to provide protection? I just have this picture of us landing and the ship being overrun by locals thinking we have a vaccine or some miracle drug that will make them immune."
"I have a similar picture myself," Ian says. "Seems to me that we’ll be spending the whole time in vacc suits, too, since there’s only an 85 percent chance the drugs will work and a 99 percent chance of catching the thing if we go anywhere that the drugs would do some good — which means right into the plague zone, in front of the advancing troops. Just look at how these two areas overlap. This whole thing has got military airborne bioweapon with artillery or airborne munitions delivery written all over it. All the King’s men must have been vaccinated, but they’d have to have reserve supplies of vaccine handy in case they missed any of there own civilians near the front on their side of the line."
Ian continues, with a certain crazy gleam in his eye. "Someone has got to go into that area and get some vaccine for the scientists to duplicate en mass. Without it the relief fleet cargos are nothing but a temporary Band-Aid. We can’t stop the plague and we won’t catch the perpetrators because we’ll be too busy running away from their front line troops and/or mobs of desperate refugees. If fleet is too stretched to do anything then it has to be somebody from the relief fleet. The Marquis will need a lot more intel before he launches a mission like that, though."
As Ian looks over the maps again, his mind races with possibilities. "We could land in Queen Anne’s Country and fly over the northern border in the air raft to the River Tyne in Coventry, then sail down river underwater on the raft in vacc suits," he thinks to himself. "That’d get us in and out without too much chance of detection. Assuming the Queen isn’t in cohoots with the King, it shouldn’t be too hot to start with."
Aloud, Ian says, "This brings us to another delicate question, Sarge. Who brought the plague into the blockade fleet? Any chance there’s a traitor in your own house? I mean, the Marquis is going to be getting info off you guys before he sends us down there and I’d really like to know who we can count on before we find ourselves at the sharp end."
To himself, Ian thinks, "I’m being pretty bald faced about this but hey, things are in chaos and the Sarge looks like a decent enough guy. Gotta trust someone. I’ll ask the other guys what they think when the Marines have gone. I think Swann will be up for it, maybe Vargas. Dunno about the others — although, if there’s a cash reward Vasilii will be along in a flash!"
As the sergeant starts to answer, Ian pulls out his datapad and hunches forward attentively, ready to take notes. "Take your time, Sarge, the more detail the better — provided you aren’t actually breaking any rules, of course. Rest assured, we’ve got lots more questions after this."
Tanaka takes in Swann’s questions and then ruefully replies, "Well, in short, the answer appears to be ‘yes’ to your questions. Mind you, I haven’t been really monitoring the ground action too much, but we can pick up some of the vid broadcasts from the Stoney.
"Some of the locals are pretty friendly towards Imperials, even if you’re not offering military aid to crush their neighbors. Others are only friendly if you are and downright hostile otherwise. Some are just hostile.
"There is some rioting going on in the countries that have areas hit by the plague or are near areas hit by the plague. There are also countries that are concerned and tense, but under control.
"Most areas are now pretty wary if not downright hostile to travelers. Can’t blame ’em too much given that there are a few cities that appear to be infected mainly because a traveler was going through.
"Some of the mercs that landed before the red zone went up a couple of years ago have gotten either antsy or out. There are also some Imperial research teams working on water issues that are getting antsy.
"Basically, people are scared. Scared people can do some pretty stupid stuff, so I’d watch yourselves out there. A tech 8 bullet in your neck or enough of those T-8 missiles up your ship’s ass will kill you just as dead as a plasma gun.
"Here. I’ll dump a couple of maps to your datapads. The first is one that I grabbed from a local vid production showing areas that have been hit by the plague which are near King Georgie’s Land. The second shows the areas where the King Georgies have advanced into neighboring countries to provide 'humanitarian aid in this time of crisis.' What a crock!
"You probably ought to scan the vid broadcasts from the planet for more info. If Lieutenant Flanagan were alive, he could provide you proper intel, but we’re kinda stretched thin just keeping the blockade up given that we have to interdict ships in both directions now. The Navy types fragged a couple of ships halfway between here and Alief that were trying to run to jump distance without inspection or quarantine.
"In short, it’s a damn mess."
Ian nods his head in agreement and then asks, "So, do we have proof it’s a biowep yet? Or a vaccine?"
Tanaka snorts and replies, "Proof? ‘If it quacks like a duck’ . . . No, we don’t have proof. At least, not enough proof that the acting Navy skipper is willing to order the Stoney to start firing on Georgie military installations in retaliation. That’s what the old skipper of the Stoney would’ve done. He was decent for a Navy puke.
"We don’t have a vaccine yet, either. Looks like the scientist types onboard the subsidized merchant have the gear to create a vaccine once they can get something to study.
"The locals are trying to find a vaccine, too. Everyone thinks that the Georgies have a vaccine since their troops are mostly unaffected, and the plague areas have this really funny shape that doesn’t penetrate far into Georgie land. Georgies are denying it right now but say that they’re working on a vaccine, too.
"Anyway, anything else?"
Swann considers for a moment, then asks, "When we land on Alief, are we basically on our own as far as protection, or are there Imperial forces and/or local forces available to provide protection? I just have this picture of us landing and the ship being overrun by locals thinking we have a vaccine or some miracle drug that will make them immune."
"I have a similar picture myself," Ian says. "Seems to me that we’ll be spending the whole time in vacc suits, too, since there’s only an 85 percent chance the drugs will work and a 99 percent chance of catching the thing if we go anywhere that the drugs would do some good — which means right into the plague zone, in front of the advancing troops. Just look at how these two areas overlap. This whole thing has got military airborne bioweapon with artillery or airborne munitions delivery written all over it. All the King’s men must have been vaccinated, but they’d have to have reserve supplies of vaccine handy in case they missed any of there own civilians near the front on their side of the line."
Ian continues, with a certain crazy gleam in his eye. "Someone has got to go into that area and get some vaccine for the scientists to duplicate en mass. Without it the relief fleet cargos are nothing but a temporary Band-Aid. We can’t stop the plague and we won’t catch the perpetrators because we’ll be too busy running away from their front line troops and/or mobs of desperate refugees. If fleet is too stretched to do anything then it has to be somebody from the relief fleet. The Marquis will need a lot more intel before he launches a mission like that, though."
As Ian looks over the maps again, his mind races with possibilities. "We could land in Queen Anne’s Country and fly over the northern border in the air raft to the River Tyne in Coventry, then sail down river underwater on the raft in vacc suits," he thinks to himself. "That’d get us in and out without too much chance of detection. Assuming the Queen isn’t in cohoots with the King, it shouldn’t be too hot to start with."
Aloud, Ian says, "This brings us to another delicate question, Sarge. Who brought the plague into the blockade fleet? Any chance there’s a traitor in your own house? I mean, the Marquis is going to be getting info off you guys before he sends us down there and I’d really like to know who we can count on before we find ourselves at the sharp end."
To himself, Ian thinks, "I’m being pretty bald faced about this but hey, things are in chaos and the Sarge looks like a decent enough guy. Gotta trust someone. I’ll ask the other guys what they think when the Marines have gone. I think Swann will be up for it, maybe Vargas. Dunno about the others — although, if there’s a cash reward Vasilii will be along in a flash!"
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Shadowdancer
First Post
Shadowdancer
First Post
Nodding at Vasilii, Tanaka concludes with, "Sir? Would you please show Lance Corporal Obutu and Pfc. Sanderson the ship’s locker and cargo hold?"
Vasilii nods. "Please, Lance Corporal Obutu and Pfc. Sanderson, follow me. I will first show you to the ships locker," he says as they walk down the corridor, "so you can be sure all onboard weapons are accounted for and secure. Then perhaps you can ‘stand down?’ Is that the Marine saying? Please Pfc. Sanderson, tell me what does Pfc. stand for? As I mentioned in my declaration, I am a Merchant, selling and procuring are my trade. If you require anything that the Navy cannot supply I would be glad to help you in any way I can."
As Vasilii walks down the corridor towards the ship's locker, he continues chatting with the Marines trying to loosen them up a bit. The Marines do seem to relax some, particularly since Darishun is backing up quickly and doesn’t seem ready to pounce on Obutu.
Sanderson chuckles at Vasilii's questions and merchant services offers. "Pfc. stands for Private First Class. Judging from your cargo manifests, it looks like your current cargo won’t have much that I need right now."
By this point, the group has reached the locker and Sanderson starts looking through it. "Hmmm . . . That’s in there. Yes, that’s fine. OK, your locker checks out. Come to think of it, Vasilii, there may be something that you can pick up for me if you do end up going down to the planet and have a chance to do so. There’s this hipbeast sausage that’s sold in some of the countries down there. If you see some, would you pick up a few links for me?"
At this request, Corporal Obutu looks a little taken aback. "Sanderson? Are you nuts?"
"Nah, should be OK. The stuff will probably have to go through hard vacuum exposure or at least the week quarantine, but that ought to do it."
Obutu looks rather thoughtful and then asks Vasilii, "Well, while you’re doing that, if you happen to see some of the Insgelside brand rosenation flower soap they sell, would you please pick up a few bars for me?"
It is Sanderson’s turn to look a little surprised. "Risa? Really? That seems a little unlike you. Need some for that Scout who was making goo–goo eyes at you?"
Obutu looks like she could melt through the bulkhead on her glare alone and simply says, "Do you want to live to make corporal?"
With that threat, Sanderson turns to Saro and Vasilii, and says, "So, moving right along, let’s look at the sickbay and cargo, huh?"
Vasilii says, "I’ll do my best to fill out your requests. Yes, let’s proceed to sickbay. It's just behind you. Doctor Talbek, would you show them around your workspace, please?"
The rest of the inspection proceeds smoothly. The inspection is fairly cursory — mostly some spot verifications — and fairly fast. The Marines do not go near the drive — or fuel processing — areas. After the inspection is complete, all troop up to the lounge to join the others.
Martha follows the group as they make their tour of the ship, answering questions when asked, but mostly staying to herself. When the Marines move to the lounge, Martha steps away and retreats once more to her engine room. At a comm panel, she tabs a quick request to schedule a private one–on–one with the Captain sometime soon, and then begins reading the reports and information that’s been provided the crew.
Vasilii nods. "Please, Lance Corporal Obutu and Pfc. Sanderson, follow me. I will first show you to the ships locker," he says as they walk down the corridor, "so you can be sure all onboard weapons are accounted for and secure. Then perhaps you can ‘stand down?’ Is that the Marine saying? Please Pfc. Sanderson, tell me what does Pfc. stand for? As I mentioned in my declaration, I am a Merchant, selling and procuring are my trade. If you require anything that the Navy cannot supply I would be glad to help you in any way I can."
As Vasilii walks down the corridor towards the ship's locker, he continues chatting with the Marines trying to loosen them up a bit. The Marines do seem to relax some, particularly since Darishun is backing up quickly and doesn’t seem ready to pounce on Obutu.
Sanderson chuckles at Vasilii's questions and merchant services offers. "Pfc. stands for Private First Class. Judging from your cargo manifests, it looks like your current cargo won’t have much that I need right now."
By this point, the group has reached the locker and Sanderson starts looking through it. "Hmmm . . . That’s in there. Yes, that’s fine. OK, your locker checks out. Come to think of it, Vasilii, there may be something that you can pick up for me if you do end up going down to the planet and have a chance to do so. There’s this hipbeast sausage that’s sold in some of the countries down there. If you see some, would you pick up a few links for me?"
At this request, Corporal Obutu looks a little taken aback. "Sanderson? Are you nuts?"
"Nah, should be OK. The stuff will probably have to go through hard vacuum exposure or at least the week quarantine, but that ought to do it."
Obutu looks rather thoughtful and then asks Vasilii, "Well, while you’re doing that, if you happen to see some of the Insgelside brand rosenation flower soap they sell, would you please pick up a few bars for me?"
It is Sanderson’s turn to look a little surprised. "Risa? Really? That seems a little unlike you. Need some for that Scout who was making goo–goo eyes at you?"
Obutu looks like she could melt through the bulkhead on her glare alone and simply says, "Do you want to live to make corporal?"
With that threat, Sanderson turns to Saro and Vasilii, and says, "So, moving right along, let’s look at the sickbay and cargo, huh?"
Vasilii says, "I’ll do my best to fill out your requests. Yes, let’s proceed to sickbay. It's just behind you. Doctor Talbek, would you show them around your workspace, please?"
The rest of the inspection proceeds smoothly. The inspection is fairly cursory — mostly some spot verifications — and fairly fast. The Marines do not go near the drive — or fuel processing — areas. After the inspection is complete, all troop up to the lounge to join the others.
-----
Martha follows the group as they make their tour of the ship, answering questions when asked, but mostly staying to herself. When the Marines move to the lounge, Martha steps away and retreats once more to her engine room. At a comm panel, she tabs a quick request to schedule a private one–on–one with the Captain sometime soon, and then begins reading the reports and information that’s been provided the crew.
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Shadowdancer
First Post
Since Obutu and Sanderson have completed their cursory inspection, they and the rest of the crew (except for Argent and Martha) join Tanaka, Ian, Swann, and Vargas in the lounge. As they arrive, Obutu and Sanderson look at their surroundings with a mixture of envy — the expanded drink dispenser — and disgust — the cases of Marine field rations. Argent and Lt. Berisul still have not emerged from the bridge.
Tanaka replies to Swann and Ian, "Well, frankly, if you have the three Imperial–grade antivirals that work, you will be landing with a miracle drug. From what I’ve heard, the only Alief local antivirals that seem to work are only 30 percent effective if given within the first three or so hours of exposure. A couple of nations on the other side of the planet from KGL have gone to war over one of the pharmaceutical factories that make the antivirals.
"Yeah, you’d be pretty damn stupid, begging the Captain’s pardon, if you dropped right in front of the advancing Georgies. There are smaller pockets of plague exposure around isolated cities. If you trust the local government troops to hold the perimeter, those might be safe." His snort belies his words a bit at the thought of comparing the ability of his Marines and that of local–yokel troops to hold a perimeter.
"At this point, when you hit the atmosphere, you’re on your own. There is a small Imperial ambassadorial mission in Bromley’s capital, but that got wiped out when some traveler from one of the affected areas arrived from one of the large infected zones.
"In fact, that's how the officers think that the Stoney and the Juishiaa got hit. Bromley’s pretty friendly to the Imperium, so both ships had some Marines down for a little shore leave. Both groups pulled out when initial reports of trouble hit but obviously had already been exposed. I don’t think that KGL is suicidal enough to directly target Imperial Marines, but, you never know."
At this last comment, Darishun softly says, "I do not understand any of this behavior at all. Surely this nation would not be so crazy as to come up with a biological weapon? Even if they did originally develop the weapon, perhaps they do have a vaccine that they would be willing to give us if we calmly and rationally explain the benefits of doing so."
"Oh yeah, I th . . . " Tanaka begins and then stops while he seems to be listening to an internal comm. He smiles ruefully and then turns to Ian. "Sorry, sir. Lt. Berisul has completed his inspection, and he wants to bug out. Good luck, sir."
With that, Tanaka comes to attention and then turns to the lift. With Obutu and Sanderson joining him, Tanaka boards the lift and descends to the lower deck.
After a few minutes, the lift reappears and Argent steps out. Shaking his head, he asks, "So, did you have as much fun with your Marines as I did with Lt. Berisul?"
After a period of ensuing silence, Argent chuckles and says, "Well, you must have had fun with the Marines if you have this much to say about them.
"Well, while Lt. Berisul was assiduously looking for porn on our systems, we got our orders from the flag. The Marquis would like us to deliver our cargo to a university near the capital of Bromley that the Bromlian government is using as their primary research facility to combat the plague. The Bromlian scientists are pretty familiar with the rabbit version of this plague, so the Marquis figures that our higher tech med gear may give them a boost.
"Damn if I know what we're supposed to do after we deliver the cargo, though. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to await further orders or if we’ll be released from service. Seems like our cargo might help a little, but there isn’t much a few doses of antivirals will do for millions."
Swann looks around at the others, a devilish grin brightening his face. "After all that work to hurry up and get here, it seems a shame to rush off so quickly. I mean, it’s not every day you get the chance to explore an interdicted planet. I think we should stay, see the sights, enjoy the local culture, sample the cuisine. I’d love to do some sailing on Trent Sea. And I hear the gardens in Dungannon are just lovely this time of year.
"However, I am feeling a bit run–down lately. Maybe I should drop by the hospital while in Dungannon, see if they might have something there to lift my spirits. No offense, Doc, but they just might have some sort of new wonder drug over in King George’s Land you haven’t heard of yet. They all seem to be weathering this plague outbreak quite well."
"Here, here. I second that," Ian says. "How about an all–round adventure holiday? We could start with some skiing in the Anglesey ranges, some whitewater rafting down the Fan River, a short bushwalk through the beautiful flower–strewn grasslands on the border, then the sailing, the gardens and dinner over looking the marina in Dungannon. I hear they have some wonderful seafood restaurants. We may even have time for a bit of big game hunting on the southern plains.
"Let’s buy a tri–D camera in Bromley and record the whole thing. We could probably sell it to the networks back on Sentry when we get back for a pretty penny. Yes, a nice, peaceful trip. I’m sure the hospital in Dungannon can help you with your problem, too, Swann. I think I’ll go pack. Yes, I definitely need this kind of holiday."
After hearing the adventure holiday proposal, Darishun cocks his head to the side a bit and comments, "Ian? Do you think that planning such an excursion is wise at this juncture? Surely we could find a more helpful use of our time assisting the locals in finding a cure for this disease."
Argent chuckles at Darishun’s comments and then answers, "I don’t think that he and Swann are serious about the holiday part. I could see if the Marquis would be offering additional pay or reward for a little ‘excursion,’ particularly if we happen across some vaccines for this plague. In any case, we do need to at least drop off our supplies as the Marquis requests before we take in the local sights.
"Towards that end, let’s get underway. Vargas and Swann, I’d like you to work with Martha to get that port laser calibrated and working as best as you can. I understand that there is some space debris near the mid point that we can use for calibration. We probably can’t get the laser perfectly calibrated, but it’ll be a start.
"Doc, would you please reserve say 30–50 or so courses of treatments of antivirals out of our stores? I get this feeling that we might want to save some treatments for ourselves in case we or others need them.
"Ian, would you please continue your planning and pull what information you can off of local broadcasts as we get closer to Alief?
"OK folks, let’s get to it then."
With this, Argent gets himself a ration pack. While waiting for it to heat, he goes over to the comm and keys the engine room: "Martha? Did you want to speak to me? I’ll be on the bridge in about five minutes or so."
Tanaka replies to Swann and Ian, "Well, frankly, if you have the three Imperial–grade antivirals that work, you will be landing with a miracle drug. From what I’ve heard, the only Alief local antivirals that seem to work are only 30 percent effective if given within the first three or so hours of exposure. A couple of nations on the other side of the planet from KGL have gone to war over one of the pharmaceutical factories that make the antivirals.
"Yeah, you’d be pretty damn stupid, begging the Captain’s pardon, if you dropped right in front of the advancing Georgies. There are smaller pockets of plague exposure around isolated cities. If you trust the local government troops to hold the perimeter, those might be safe." His snort belies his words a bit at the thought of comparing the ability of his Marines and that of local–yokel troops to hold a perimeter.
"At this point, when you hit the atmosphere, you’re on your own. There is a small Imperial ambassadorial mission in Bromley’s capital, but that got wiped out when some traveler from one of the affected areas arrived from one of the large infected zones.
"In fact, that's how the officers think that the Stoney and the Juishiaa got hit. Bromley’s pretty friendly to the Imperium, so both ships had some Marines down for a little shore leave. Both groups pulled out when initial reports of trouble hit but obviously had already been exposed. I don’t think that KGL is suicidal enough to directly target Imperial Marines, but, you never know."
At this last comment, Darishun softly says, "I do not understand any of this behavior at all. Surely this nation would not be so crazy as to come up with a biological weapon? Even if they did originally develop the weapon, perhaps they do have a vaccine that they would be willing to give us if we calmly and rationally explain the benefits of doing so."
"Oh yeah, I th . . . " Tanaka begins and then stops while he seems to be listening to an internal comm. He smiles ruefully and then turns to Ian. "Sorry, sir. Lt. Berisul has completed his inspection, and he wants to bug out. Good luck, sir."
With that, Tanaka comes to attention and then turns to the lift. With Obutu and Sanderson joining him, Tanaka boards the lift and descends to the lower deck.
After a few minutes, the lift reappears and Argent steps out. Shaking his head, he asks, "So, did you have as much fun with your Marines as I did with Lt. Berisul?"
After a period of ensuing silence, Argent chuckles and says, "Well, you must have had fun with the Marines if you have this much to say about them.
"Well, while Lt. Berisul was assiduously looking for porn on our systems, we got our orders from the flag. The Marquis would like us to deliver our cargo to a university near the capital of Bromley that the Bromlian government is using as their primary research facility to combat the plague. The Bromlian scientists are pretty familiar with the rabbit version of this plague, so the Marquis figures that our higher tech med gear may give them a boost.
"Damn if I know what we're supposed to do after we deliver the cargo, though. I’m not sure if we’re supposed to await further orders or if we’ll be released from service. Seems like our cargo might help a little, but there isn’t much a few doses of antivirals will do for millions."
Swann looks around at the others, a devilish grin brightening his face. "After all that work to hurry up and get here, it seems a shame to rush off so quickly. I mean, it’s not every day you get the chance to explore an interdicted planet. I think we should stay, see the sights, enjoy the local culture, sample the cuisine. I’d love to do some sailing on Trent Sea. And I hear the gardens in Dungannon are just lovely this time of year.
"However, I am feeling a bit run–down lately. Maybe I should drop by the hospital while in Dungannon, see if they might have something there to lift my spirits. No offense, Doc, but they just might have some sort of new wonder drug over in King George’s Land you haven’t heard of yet. They all seem to be weathering this plague outbreak quite well."
"Here, here. I second that," Ian says. "How about an all–round adventure holiday? We could start with some skiing in the Anglesey ranges, some whitewater rafting down the Fan River, a short bushwalk through the beautiful flower–strewn grasslands on the border, then the sailing, the gardens and dinner over looking the marina in Dungannon. I hear they have some wonderful seafood restaurants. We may even have time for a bit of big game hunting on the southern plains.
"Let’s buy a tri–D camera in Bromley and record the whole thing. We could probably sell it to the networks back on Sentry when we get back for a pretty penny. Yes, a nice, peaceful trip. I’m sure the hospital in Dungannon can help you with your problem, too, Swann. I think I’ll go pack. Yes, I definitely need this kind of holiday."
After hearing the adventure holiday proposal, Darishun cocks his head to the side a bit and comments, "Ian? Do you think that planning such an excursion is wise at this juncture? Surely we could find a more helpful use of our time assisting the locals in finding a cure for this disease."
Argent chuckles at Darishun’s comments and then answers, "I don’t think that he and Swann are serious about the holiday part. I could see if the Marquis would be offering additional pay or reward for a little ‘excursion,’ particularly if we happen across some vaccines for this plague. In any case, we do need to at least drop off our supplies as the Marquis requests before we take in the local sights.
"Towards that end, let’s get underway. Vargas and Swann, I’d like you to work with Martha to get that port laser calibrated and working as best as you can. I understand that there is some space debris near the mid point that we can use for calibration. We probably can’t get the laser perfectly calibrated, but it’ll be a start.
"Doc, would you please reserve say 30–50 or so courses of treatments of antivirals out of our stores? I get this feeling that we might want to save some treatments for ourselves in case we or others need them.
"Ian, would you please continue your planning and pull what information you can off of local broadcasts as we get closer to Alief?
"OK folks, let’s get to it then."
With this, Argent gets himself a ration pack. While waiting for it to heat, he goes over to the comm and keys the engine room: "Martha? Did you want to speak to me? I’ll be on the bridge in about five minutes or so."
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Broccli_Head
Explorer
Liked the pictures!
Can't wait until the crew gets planetside either.
Can't wait until the crew gets planetside either.
Shadowdancer
First Post
Now that I've figured out how to post them, I'll be adding more, like deckplans for the Bray Keaven.Broccli_Head said:
Shadowdancer
First Post
Shadowdancer
First Post
Chapter IXX
Date: 119-993Place: Alief System.
With this, Argent gets himself a ration pack. While waiting for it to heat, he goes over to the comm and keys the engine room: "Martha? Did you want to speak to me? I’ll be on the bridge in about five minutes or so."
"Yes, Captain. I’ll meet you there," Martha replies.
Five minutes later, Martha reports to the Captain on the bridge. She explains to him the potential danger that Ian put the repair team into by reading files instead of working while outside the hull, and she requests respectfully that he not be assigned to any such dangerous work again, until he’s "figured out what’s more important: his mail or his life and the lives of those around him."
After hearing Martha express her concerns about Ian, Argent nods and says, "I understand, Martha. I will speak to Ian about the matter, and I’m sure that it won’t be a problem again. By the way, Martha, you still seem a little strung out. After you get the turret powered, if you feel comfortable leaving the calibration to Swann and Vargas, please get some rest."
Later, Argent calls Ian in to discuss Martha’s concerns. After listening to Ian’s explanation, Argent chides him briefly and sends him on his way, satisfied that the matter has been resolved.
-----
The next four hours are a bit of a blur for most of the crew. The Bray Keaven gets underway and heads toward Alief orbit. While underway, Argent gets a chance to talk to the Marquis and roughly outline the crew’s adventure holiday idea.
The Marquis replies, "Officially, I can’t endorse a military excursion of any sort. However, at this point, the Bray Keaven and its crew are only officially contracted to deliver the medical supplies to Alief and then await further orders. Now, if you and your crew decide to do a bit of sightseeing, you’re on your own. On the other hand, if you do happen to find a vaccine while looking at the local curio shops, I would be willing to pay 200 thousand credits for such a souvenir. Be careful down there. Seri’s Dagger out."
With a smile, Argent keys the comm and announces, "Argent to crew. The Marquis gives us permission to see the local sights as long as the crew agrees to do so at our own risk. He did say that he’s looking for a certain souvenir that he’ll pay 200 thousand credits for if we happen to find a sample."
-----
At the port turret, Martha, Swann, and Vargas work feverishly to get the port turret powered and calibrated. Martha’s technical wizardry is in fine form when doing the power connections, enough so that she is able to (safely) over power the laser slightly.
The initial calibration goes well, but the subsequent calibrations aren’t quite as effective. The short time available to use the space debris for targeting/power practice doesn’t help. As a result, the laser turret is only partially calibrated.
Passing by the space debris midway between the arrival/inspection point and Alief is rather sobering for the turret crew and Argent: the debris consists of a far trader that probably was attempting to leave Alief orbit without submitting to the quarantine. There doesn’t appear to be much left that would be worth salvaging, but Vargas thinks that it might be worth looking at on the way out.
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In the cargo hold, Saro, Vasilii, and Darishun work to retain 50 doses of the antiviral cocktail for the crew's use and prepare for landing/cargo unloading. Saro also spends time communicating with the Wall of Stone’s medical team. The medical team is currently under the impression that taking the antiviral cocktail as a preventative measure before exposure should work. Of course, no one on the Wall of Stone is willing to test out the theory.
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Ian spends the hours gathering as much information as he can. Contacting the fleet for more information proves to be not very successful. Tanaka’s reply sounds a little clipped, as if Berisul is breathing down his neck at that moment. Tanaka does manage to send an orientation brief on the local area given to Marines on shore leave. Most of the information is about Bromley and its capital, Medway. The Bromlians generally appear to have been friendly to the Marines and Imperials in the past.
Mining the local broadcasts is considerably more successful. The military situation seems to be very lopsided: KGL forces are just rolling through Hillingdon, Wirral, and Coventry. Queen Anne’s Country is officially neutral, but the local media seems to believe that there is some sort of agreement with KGL.
Bromley is also officially neutral, but public and government opinion is starting to turn given the infection in Medway and the spillover infection in the northwest. The Bromlian government does not believe that it was specifically targeted but isn’t too happy.
The situation in the capital (Medway) is fairly dire, but the quarantine line appears to be holding. The Bromlian military does appear to have control in the area.
The area of Bromley bordering KGL is pretty sparsely populated and rather dry (desert like).
Ian is able to gather some information on local speech patterns. The local language is Analogical with a slight accent and some local idioms (some of which Ian learns).
Ian does ascertain that there are Vargr living on the planet in some numbers, but Virushi are probably unknown so Darishun will be noticeable.
Arranging local transport is something that will need to be done on the ground, but Ian does manage to do some general contingency planning.
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Closer to the planet, Argent contacts the Bromlian military officer designated by the Marquis, a General Tilshire. The general sounds fairly friendly and a little desperate for the supplies. Local time is about four hours behind ship time, and the General indicates that they have a "secure" landing zone at Lowford, a university town about 30 minutes outside of Medway. The landing zone doesn’t sound like much more than a local airport serving the university town, but it’s the one that is "secured."
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A few minutes before orbital insertion, Argent notices three small craft rise into orbit from Alief and head towards the Bray Keaven. The detail is pretty hard to make out on the passive sensors, but two appear to be some sort of small mining craft of 50 displacement tons each and one appears to be a slow boat of 30 tons.
At this point, the comm crackles to life: "Incoming merchant ship. Come to a stop and prepare to be boarded for a customs inspection by the order of the government of Lingdonsland."
Argent crinkles his face in confusion and thinks, "Lingdonsland? Where the hell is Lingdonsland?" A quick check of the Alief map shows that Lingdonsland is located on the other side of the hemisphere from KGL. The computer library doesn’t have much information other than to indicate that the government is a little paranoid, the locals are definitely not Imperial friendly, and the country should be avoided.
Argent keys the internal comm. "We appear to have company inbound."
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Shadowdancer
First Post
Muttering under her breath, Martha heads toward the engine room. She knows if the captain needs it, he’ll ask for, if not demand, every gram the engines can give. If she isn’t there, her babies might not make it, leaving them high and dry in their moment of need.
Upon her arrival in engineering, she comms the bridge. "Engineer at battle stations." Tabbing the comm off, she adds under her breath, "Please go easy on ’er, Captain."
Swann puts on his vacc suit and proceeds to the starboard turret, just in case. After arriving, he keys the comm unit. "Captain, this is Swann. I’m standing by in the starboard turret, if needed. Let me take this opportunity to remind you that you are the only other person on board with any gunnery experience. The port turret is not full calibrated yet, so I recommend not using it unless absolutely necessary. If you do decide to use it, it might be better for me to man it since I’m more familiar with it. Also, the starboard turret would be closer to the bridge. It’s your call."
Ian heads for his stateroom and suits up in his reflec and combat suit, and light imaging goggles, then heads for the weapons locker and keys the comm: "Cap’n, I’m suited up and ready for decompression. I’m waiting at the locker for you to release the toys in case said company gets too close for comfort. Would you be so kind as to turn the internal lighting to night red so we can all start getting our eyes accustomed for battle stations?"
Waiting at the weapons locker, Ian starts talking to himself. "Company from down the well at this time could only be some scumbags trying to steal the relief drugs. We probably aren't even flying over their tin-pot little country. Oh well, it never rains but it pours."
Vargas takes a moment to drop Rusti off in his cabin, where upon the beaker seals itself into a pressurized carrier. The former Scout puts on his vacc suit, then steps out and into the bridge where he slides into the copilot’s seat.
Argent finishes keying the comm to announce the latest reception committee and then reaches for his vacc suit and starts slipping into the suit. After a moment’s thought, he keys the comm again and announces, "By the way, we didn’t talk about this matter specifically, but I’d like everyone suited up just in case. These guys probably aren’t going to be the most friendly of types."
Ian keys the comm to the bridge, "Captain? Ian here. There wasn’t much on Alief native space capabilities in the library data. Judging from the max native tech level, most governments won’t have much spacewise except for stuff that they’ve bought. From what I’ve read, part of the reason that the Imperium slapped the Red Zone on the planet is that the local nations were trying to buy armed small craft and starships to war on each other. Much of what they do have probably got destroyed since the Red Zone went up, so the three craft ahead probably represent the entire 'navy' of Lingsdonland."
At this point, the slow boat again hails the Bray Keaven. "Incoming merchant ship. You are to immediately begin deceleration and come to a stop for a customs inspection. Our Illustrious Leader has indicated that you are believed to be carrying proscribed biological weapons and those weapons, if found, need to be seized immediately. If you do not permit inspection, we will destroy you."
Argent regards the three approaching small craft for a moment, turns to Vargas — who just arrived — and asks rhetorically, "Are they serious? I mean, two Marine assault cutters and a properly armed gig would be a significant threat, but I find two mining cutters and a slow boat a bit less of a threat."
Vargas doesn’t interrupt the system checks he is running on his console but merely comments, "I think the poor bastards are serious. Either that or they’re more afraid of their Illiterate Leader than us."
The Scout then looks over at Argent. "Just keep in mind that the poor blighters are just doing their job."
Keying the internal comm, Argent announces, "OK crew, this is how we’ll play this one. We’re going to go to battlestations immediately, and assume that these guys are hostile and will fire upon us.
"Vasilii, I want you up here with me and Vargas. I want you on the sensors and the computer. Vargas will be astrogater and backup pilot.
"Swann, take the starboard turret. I know that the port turret isn’t properly calibrated, but Vasilii and the ship’s computer will have to do the best that they can. I’m probably better put to use negotiating with these locals and showing them a move or two if the shooting starts.
"Martha, you're exactly where you need to be. Good thinking.
"Ian and Darishun? Please break out the arms. Ready yourselves and please then bring a side arm to each crewmember. Then find a place to brace yourselves and prepare to receive borders if it comes to that.
"Doc? Please strap yourself in and get ready to treat any casualties."
"I’m going to try and talk these folks out of attacking, but if they do fire on us, we’ll fire back."
Again, the incoming Lingsdonland craft hails the Bray Keaven. "Come to a stop immediately! If you do not comply within five minutes, we will open fire.
"Our Illustrious Leader demands that you stop," the slow boat’s commander adds a little weakly, his voice cracking a bit.
Argent keys the comm and replies, "I think not, Lingsdonland craft. We are carrying medical supplies needed by the government of Bromley, and we have been instructed by the Imperial Marquis of Sentry to deliver them to Bromley. Fire upon us and you are firing upon a vessel under Imperial Noble charter. If you fire upon us, the consequences will be dire for you and your ‘illustrious leader.’ "
Argent turns to Vargas and Vasilii, who just arrived, and says, "OK, so we have five minutes."
Swann keys the internal comm. "Captain, this is Swann. Has anyone run an active scan of the incoming ships yet? Are they even armed? And do you have any preferences for targeting — weapons, engines, or whatever I can hit?"
At the weapons locker Ian tries to convince Darishun to at least take a stun pistol. "I know you’d like to talk to them first, but if they come blasting through the hull, believe me, they won’t be listening. Take it, Darishun, you won’t be doing any permanent damage with it. Now check my suit and I’ll check yours."
Darishun cocks his head to the side, looks at Ian quizzically, and says, "Ian? Are you sure that taking a stun pistol would be the proper course of action? From what I understand the people from Lingsdonland have threatened serious harm to us in order to take away our cargo. If they take away our cargo, many people could die without the antivirals, more so if our cargo helps find a cure. I sincerely hope that the captain can convince the people from Lingsdonland that the best and most reasonable course of action is to let us pass unmolested. Still, I do not think that taking a stun pistol would be wise in this situation."
Darishun then puts his flak jacket on over his tailored vacc suit, reaches for his rifle, and continues blandly, "A stun pistol just seems rather inadequate."
Ian keys the intercom and asks Swann which pieces from his collection he’d like.
Swann chuckles at the question. "I’ve always wanted a weapon caddy," he thinks to himself.
He keys the intercom to reply: "I’ll take a snub pistol with a tranq load, and an accelerator rifle on the side, please."
After getting replies from Swann and the other crew members, Ian then sprints around the ship with arms full of weapons to hand out to everyone, checking suits as he goes.
On the bridge, Ian mentions again that he’d like the lighting turned red, tells Argent where he’ll be and asks the Captain to outline to everyone what will happen with the gravity, lighting, and atmosphere because he’s not sure that all the civvies know standard military procedure.
After that Ian takes up a position at the intercom and light switch near the downstairs access ladder, nice and central to any place on the ship. He clamps his boots to the deck, standing within easy reach of the ladder in case he needs to suddenly brace for impact. He keys the intercom: "McConnell in position."
After this frantic activity, he checks his weapons and load again, trying to settle himself down and keep his mind clear for what is to come. "Made it with 17 seconds to spare. ‘Hurry up and wait.’ Same old same old."
Upon her arrival in engineering, she comms the bridge. "Engineer at battle stations." Tabbing the comm off, she adds under her breath, "Please go easy on ’er, Captain."
-----
Swann puts on his vacc suit and proceeds to the starboard turret, just in case. After arriving, he keys the comm unit. "Captain, this is Swann. I’m standing by in the starboard turret, if needed. Let me take this opportunity to remind you that you are the only other person on board with any gunnery experience. The port turret is not full calibrated yet, so I recommend not using it unless absolutely necessary. If you do decide to use it, it might be better for me to man it since I’m more familiar with it. Also, the starboard turret would be closer to the bridge. It’s your call."
-----
Ian heads for his stateroom and suits up in his reflec and combat suit, and light imaging goggles, then heads for the weapons locker and keys the comm: "Cap’n, I’m suited up and ready for decompression. I’m waiting at the locker for you to release the toys in case said company gets too close for comfort. Would you be so kind as to turn the internal lighting to night red so we can all start getting our eyes accustomed for battle stations?"
Waiting at the weapons locker, Ian starts talking to himself. "Company from down the well at this time could only be some scumbags trying to steal the relief drugs. We probably aren't even flying over their tin-pot little country. Oh well, it never rains but it pours."
-----
Vargas takes a moment to drop Rusti off in his cabin, where upon the beaker seals itself into a pressurized carrier. The former Scout puts on his vacc suit, then steps out and into the bridge where he slides into the copilot’s seat.
-----
Argent finishes keying the comm to announce the latest reception committee and then reaches for his vacc suit and starts slipping into the suit. After a moment’s thought, he keys the comm again and announces, "By the way, we didn’t talk about this matter specifically, but I’d like everyone suited up just in case. These guys probably aren’t going to be the most friendly of types."
-----
Ian keys the comm to the bridge, "Captain? Ian here. There wasn’t much on Alief native space capabilities in the library data. Judging from the max native tech level, most governments won’t have much spacewise except for stuff that they’ve bought. From what I’ve read, part of the reason that the Imperium slapped the Red Zone on the planet is that the local nations were trying to buy armed small craft and starships to war on each other. Much of what they do have probably got destroyed since the Red Zone went up, so the three craft ahead probably represent the entire 'navy' of Lingsdonland."
-----
At this point, the slow boat again hails the Bray Keaven. "Incoming merchant ship. You are to immediately begin deceleration and come to a stop for a customs inspection. Our Illustrious Leader has indicated that you are believed to be carrying proscribed biological weapons and those weapons, if found, need to be seized immediately. If you do not permit inspection, we will destroy you."
Argent regards the three approaching small craft for a moment, turns to Vargas — who just arrived — and asks rhetorically, "Are they serious? I mean, two Marine assault cutters and a properly armed gig would be a significant threat, but I find two mining cutters and a slow boat a bit less of a threat."
Vargas doesn’t interrupt the system checks he is running on his console but merely comments, "I think the poor bastards are serious. Either that or they’re more afraid of their Illiterate Leader than us."
The Scout then looks over at Argent. "Just keep in mind that the poor blighters are just doing their job."
Keying the internal comm, Argent announces, "OK crew, this is how we’ll play this one. We’re going to go to battlestations immediately, and assume that these guys are hostile and will fire upon us.
"Vasilii, I want you up here with me and Vargas. I want you on the sensors and the computer. Vargas will be astrogater and backup pilot.
"Swann, take the starboard turret. I know that the port turret isn’t properly calibrated, but Vasilii and the ship’s computer will have to do the best that they can. I’m probably better put to use negotiating with these locals and showing them a move or two if the shooting starts.
"Martha, you're exactly where you need to be. Good thinking.
"Ian and Darishun? Please break out the arms. Ready yourselves and please then bring a side arm to each crewmember. Then find a place to brace yourselves and prepare to receive borders if it comes to that.
"Doc? Please strap yourself in and get ready to treat any casualties."
"I’m going to try and talk these folks out of attacking, but if they do fire on us, we’ll fire back."
Again, the incoming Lingsdonland craft hails the Bray Keaven. "Come to a stop immediately! If you do not comply within five minutes, we will open fire.
"Our Illustrious Leader demands that you stop," the slow boat’s commander adds a little weakly, his voice cracking a bit.
Argent keys the comm and replies, "I think not, Lingsdonland craft. We are carrying medical supplies needed by the government of Bromley, and we have been instructed by the Imperial Marquis of Sentry to deliver them to Bromley. Fire upon us and you are firing upon a vessel under Imperial Noble charter. If you fire upon us, the consequences will be dire for you and your ‘illustrious leader.’ "
Argent turns to Vargas and Vasilii, who just arrived, and says, "OK, so we have five minutes."
-----
Swann keys the internal comm. "Captain, this is Swann. Has anyone run an active scan of the incoming ships yet? Are they even armed? And do you have any preferences for targeting — weapons, engines, or whatever I can hit?"
-----
At the weapons locker Ian tries to convince Darishun to at least take a stun pistol. "I know you’d like to talk to them first, but if they come blasting through the hull, believe me, they won’t be listening. Take it, Darishun, you won’t be doing any permanent damage with it. Now check my suit and I’ll check yours."
Darishun cocks his head to the side, looks at Ian quizzically, and says, "Ian? Are you sure that taking a stun pistol would be the proper course of action? From what I understand the people from Lingsdonland have threatened serious harm to us in order to take away our cargo. If they take away our cargo, many people could die without the antivirals, more so if our cargo helps find a cure. I sincerely hope that the captain can convince the people from Lingsdonland that the best and most reasonable course of action is to let us pass unmolested. Still, I do not think that taking a stun pistol would be wise in this situation."
Darishun then puts his flak jacket on over his tailored vacc suit, reaches for his rifle, and continues blandly, "A stun pistol just seems rather inadequate."
Ian keys the intercom and asks Swann which pieces from his collection he’d like.
Swann chuckles at the question. "I’ve always wanted a weapon caddy," he thinks to himself.
He keys the intercom to reply: "I’ll take a snub pistol with a tranq load, and an accelerator rifle on the side, please."
After getting replies from Swann and the other crew members, Ian then sprints around the ship with arms full of weapons to hand out to everyone, checking suits as he goes.
On the bridge, Ian mentions again that he’d like the lighting turned red, tells Argent where he’ll be and asks the Captain to outline to everyone what will happen with the gravity, lighting, and atmosphere because he’s not sure that all the civvies know standard military procedure.
After that Ian takes up a position at the intercom and light switch near the downstairs access ladder, nice and central to any place on the ship. He clamps his boots to the deck, standing within easy reach of the ladder in case he needs to suddenly brace for impact. He keys the intercom: "McConnell in position."
After this frantic activity, he checks his weapons and load again, trying to settle himself down and keep his mind clear for what is to come. "Made it with 17 seconds to spare. ‘Hurry up and wait.’ Same old same old."
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