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Mongoose Traveller Tale in the Third Imperium
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<blockquote data-quote="ptolemy" data-source="post: 9263820" data-attributes="member: 1412"><p>On Walston 096-1081</p><p></p><p>Day 1</p><p></p><p>It’s raining. The downport is typical of places like Walston: a fusion-stone landing area which could accommodate maybe a 600 ton vessel, a warehouse for goods and a few buildings for customs and security. The Autumn Gold is only staying long enough to refuel - its only business here is to drop us off. The crew helped us carry the 3 crates of equipment and replacement parts which we have been given and showed us to the customs office. There were three officers, peaked squarish caps, square cut uniform jackets and two tone blue long tartan kilts. Thick wooly socks and sturdy boots completed the look. They looked at us with bored eyes: “Short stay, recreational?” “No, we’re here to pick up a scout but we can’t see it. Is there another landing strip?”. “Not the Highndry?”</p><p></p><p>They didn’t look impressed when we told them we were after just that ship and told us that they don’t like trouble makers and that they will be watching us. They had no idea where our ship is, but when Helena turned on the charm they softened a little and said that it had been here a few times between 12 and about 6 months ago and they didn’t know anymore than that. It was obvious that the crew hadn’t made any friends and we were being tarred with the same brush. They did, however, recommend the Highport, a hotel just opposite the downport. </p><p></p><p>Buildings on Walston are a strange affair. They have half of a floor above ground and you usually have to walk down steps to get to the front door. Any extra floors are underground. I suppose this is because of the climate. It is chilly and windy. Walston has little if any trees and as far as we could see was little better than tundra with small shrubs and wiry grasses. It’s not much to look at. Library data shows that is has quite a sea harvesting industry and regular agriculture along some sheltered rivers and coastal areas. Kilts are ubiquitous and vargr are considered second class citizens. We checked our guns and long blades at customs (10cd a week storage <em>each</em>) and we wandered into town. The Highport was visible immediately on leaving customs. It was more like a bed and breakfast, but seemed nice. Inside there was a small reception area, a desk and some stairs going down. A vargr girl was behind the counter. She asked us how many rooms we wanted and how long we were staying. We had just answered when Mrs. Allard walked in, all smiles. Again we were asked the reason for our visit, again the suspicious look and “We know your type here! We won’t stand for any trouble, it’ll be the police straight away if you cause any!”. After the way we were treated at Caladbolg and to lessor extent on Flammarion Highport this was unsettling. We assured Mrs. Allard that we didn’t like trouble anymore than she did and that we were at her disposal incase any arose. Sniffing she told Mary to show us to our rooms. Mary is an unusual name for a Vargr and we said as much as we were shown downstair. “Miss can’t pronounce my name so she decided to can me Mary.” was the timid answer. So that’s how it is on Walston. </p><p></p><p>Mary said she didn’t know where a ship might be but that we should ask at the Port Authority, but more likely they would know at the palace in Central Lake, where a brother of her's worked. We had passed the Port Authority as we walked to the Highport but it was closed. Mary said it would be open first thing. She recommended a Vargr restaurant called Juicy and gave us direction. Some nine out of ten people were Vargr. It is bit weird how they step aside all the time. I suspect the local humans don’t even notice. We had some very rare and, yes, juicy stakes at Juicy and turned in. Despite our reception I liked the feel of the town. You need a filter mask outdoor as the atmosphere is both thin and tainted, so there is not much outdoor life. But indoors was very homely. </p><p></p><p>Day 2</p><p></p><p>We were up early and at the PA as soon as it was open. Yes, the Highndry has been through a few times, last time being seven or eight months ago. Yes, it is registered as being in system and had been chartered by the planetary government. No, it is not at any port facility. No, nobody was sorry to see them go when they turned up in town on an air/raft and jumped on the next trader which passed by. They were arses, incapable or mastering the simple art of putting rubbish in bins and mocked everything Walston. They were rude to the Vargr, which isn’t fair. Walston’s data net is fine, but not much government business is available on it, simply because who wants to know and who can be bothered up loading it? So we were told we would need to head over the Central Lake. The train was in a couple of hours, so we checked out of Highport, said goodbye to Mary (Gashkrinel) and bought tickets. </p><p></p><p>Central Lake is a short ride on a warm if old train. It is pretty much the same as Startown: cold with sunken buildings and lots of chill factor in the form of wind. It is perched on the banks of a, you guessed it, of a lake. We arrive early enough to find the palace open. The main entrance led into a cosy reception with dark wooden floors and a smart desk but no receptionist. We stood around, feeling awkward, until after ten minutes, which felt longer, a clerk came in reading from a sheaf of flimsies. They looked at us with an almost rude level of astonishment and then, remembering themselves asked us what we wanted. As soon as he heard the word Highndry we were ushered into a side room and offered coffee and biscuits which we accepted, and wine, which we didn’t. A further twenty minutes after the clerk left us sipping our coffee a human arrived who introduced himself as Alan Greener, Minister for Offworld Affairs, Public Relations and Fisheries. As soon as we finished our introductions he popped his head out of the door and called for the Vargr clerk and asked for coffee for himself. </p><p></p><p>“Yes, the Highndry was commissioned for an incredibly simple job, which your predecessors managed to mess up despite it’s easy nature. They hotfooted it to Starport and disappeared - with their fee for the job - before we knew what was happening. They left their ship -. Well, let’s talk business. I am not authorised to furnish the details at this time. Of course, if you were to offer to undertake the commission yourselves we would be able to assist you in your recovery of the Highndry and pay you for your time. As the budget has already paid for this job once I have only 3,000 credits to offer you. However, it is only a two day job and will be less arduous than getting the Highndry. What do you say?”</p><p></p><p>After some failed negotiations (I honestly believe the budget for vulcanology only had 3,000 cd in it) we agreed. The job really did sound simple. We were to use the seismic charges already given to the crew and presumably currently on the Highndry to run a geological/seismic/tectonic survey not far from the capital. Apparently there is a volcano to the south east - Mount Salbarii. It has rumbled a few times in recent years and there have been a couple of tremors. A geologist who was passing through opined that there was “A more than 99% likelihood that there is no danger.” Naturally, they want a more detailed survey. They were going to see about paying a university to come and do it, but then found out that a scout’s sensors would be more than adequate for the job. There was a snag. The Highndry had been abandoned in the crater of the volcano itself.</p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="ptolemy, post: 9263820, member: 1412"] On Walston 096-1081 Day 1 It’s raining. The downport is typical of places like Walston: a fusion-stone landing area which could accommodate maybe a 600 ton vessel, a warehouse for goods and a few buildings for customs and security. The Autumn Gold is only staying long enough to refuel - its only business here is to drop us off. The crew helped us carry the 3 crates of equipment and replacement parts which we have been given and showed us to the customs office. There were three officers, peaked squarish caps, square cut uniform jackets and two tone blue long tartan kilts. Thick wooly socks and sturdy boots completed the look. They looked at us with bored eyes: “Short stay, recreational?” “No, we’re here to pick up a scout but we can’t see it. Is there another landing strip?”. “Not the Highndry?” They didn’t look impressed when we told them we were after just that ship and told us that they don’t like trouble makers and that they will be watching us. They had no idea where our ship is, but when Helena turned on the charm they softened a little and said that it had been here a few times between 12 and about 6 months ago and they didn’t know anymore than that. It was obvious that the crew hadn’t made any friends and we were being tarred with the same brush. They did, however, recommend the Highport, a hotel just opposite the downport. Buildings on Walston are a strange affair. They have half of a floor above ground and you usually have to walk down steps to get to the front door. Any extra floors are underground. I suppose this is because of the climate. It is chilly and windy. Walston has little if any trees and as far as we could see was little better than tundra with small shrubs and wiry grasses. It’s not much to look at. Library data shows that is has quite a sea harvesting industry and regular agriculture along some sheltered rivers and coastal areas. Kilts are ubiquitous and vargr are considered second class citizens. We checked our guns and long blades at customs (10cd a week storage [I]each[/I]) and we wandered into town. The Highport was visible immediately on leaving customs. It was more like a bed and breakfast, but seemed nice. Inside there was a small reception area, a desk and some stairs going down. A vargr girl was behind the counter. She asked us how many rooms we wanted and how long we were staying. We had just answered when Mrs. Allard walked in, all smiles. Again we were asked the reason for our visit, again the suspicious look and “We know your type here! We won’t stand for any trouble, it’ll be the police straight away if you cause any!”. After the way we were treated at Caladbolg and to lessor extent on Flammarion Highport this was unsettling. We assured Mrs. Allard that we didn’t like trouble anymore than she did and that we were at her disposal incase any arose. Sniffing she told Mary to show us to our rooms. Mary is an unusual name for a Vargr and we said as much as we were shown downstair. “Miss can’t pronounce my name so she decided to can me Mary.” was the timid answer. So that’s how it is on Walston. Mary said she didn’t know where a ship might be but that we should ask at the Port Authority, but more likely they would know at the palace in Central Lake, where a brother of her's worked. We had passed the Port Authority as we walked to the Highport but it was closed. Mary said it would be open first thing. She recommended a Vargr restaurant called Juicy and gave us direction. Some nine out of ten people were Vargr. It is bit weird how they step aside all the time. I suspect the local humans don’t even notice. We had some very rare and, yes, juicy stakes at Juicy and turned in. Despite our reception I liked the feel of the town. You need a filter mask outdoor as the atmosphere is both thin and tainted, so there is not much outdoor life. But indoors was very homely. Day 2 We were up early and at the PA as soon as it was open. Yes, the Highndry has been through a few times, last time being seven or eight months ago. Yes, it is registered as being in system and had been chartered by the planetary government. No, it is not at any port facility. No, nobody was sorry to see them go when they turned up in town on an air/raft and jumped on the next trader which passed by. They were arses, incapable or mastering the simple art of putting rubbish in bins and mocked everything Walston. They were rude to the Vargr, which isn’t fair. Walston’s data net is fine, but not much government business is available on it, simply because who wants to know and who can be bothered up loading it? So we were told we would need to head over the Central Lake. The train was in a couple of hours, so we checked out of Highport, said goodbye to Mary (Gashkrinel) and bought tickets. Central Lake is a short ride on a warm if old train. It is pretty much the same as Startown: cold with sunken buildings and lots of chill factor in the form of wind. It is perched on the banks of a, you guessed it, of a lake. We arrive early enough to find the palace open. The main entrance led into a cosy reception with dark wooden floors and a smart desk but no receptionist. We stood around, feeling awkward, until after ten minutes, which felt longer, a clerk came in reading from a sheaf of flimsies. They looked at us with an almost rude level of astonishment and then, remembering themselves asked us what we wanted. As soon as he heard the word Highndry we were ushered into a side room and offered coffee and biscuits which we accepted, and wine, which we didn’t. A further twenty minutes after the clerk left us sipping our coffee a human arrived who introduced himself as Alan Greener, Minister for Offworld Affairs, Public Relations and Fisheries. As soon as we finished our introductions he popped his head out of the door and called for the Vargr clerk and asked for coffee for himself. “Yes, the Highndry was commissioned for an incredibly simple job, which your predecessors managed to mess up despite it’s easy nature. They hotfooted it to Starport and disappeared - with their fee for the job - before we knew what was happening. They left their ship -. Well, let’s talk business. I am not authorised to furnish the details at this time. Of course, if you were to offer to undertake the commission yourselves we would be able to assist you in your recovery of the Highndry and pay you for your time. As the budget has already paid for this job once I have only 3,000 credits to offer you. However, it is only a two day job and will be less arduous than getting the Highndry. What do you say?” After some failed negotiations (I honestly believe the budget for vulcanology only had 3,000 cd in it) we agreed. The job really did sound simple. We were to use the seismic charges already given to the crew and presumably currently on the Highndry to run a geological/seismic/tectonic survey not far from the capital. Apparently there is a volcano to the south east - Mount Salbarii. It has rumbled a few times in recent years and there have been a couple of tremors. A geologist who was passing through opined that there was “A more than 99% likelihood that there is no danger.” Naturally, they want a more detailed survey. They were going to see about paying a university to come and do it, but then found out that a scout’s sensors would be more than adequate for the job. There was a snag. The Highndry had been abandoned in the crater of the volcano itself. [/QUOTE]
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