Traveller T20: Tales of the Bray Keaven [Updated 12-20-05]
Shadowdancer
First Post
Thanks. I try to update it every Sunday night/Monday morning.Eyas said:
Shadowdancer
First Post
Chapter III
Date: 109-993
Location: Aboard the Bray Keaven, in orbit around Sentry.
The two groups troop out leaving Argent alone in the crew lounge with his thoughts.
Martha heads straight for the drive room with the other three in tow. The narrowness of the passage interferes with any chance of conversation. Once at the port drive room, she sits down on the floor leaning against one of the control consoles, her young face lined with fatigue.
"I suppose since Cap’ns said to, I’ll wave a baton. Swann, you said you’re good with mech/elec stuff. Do you want to have a go at the life support? It was virtually dormant and now we’ve dumped a big load on it; run it up and see how it goes. It’s been pretty good so I don’t expect any surprises. Who’s good with computers?"
After a short pause, Swann coughs. "I believe I’m not a total loser when it comes to them. I’ve cut a little code in my time."
"Well then, after the life support, do you want to play with our beast? Johanson, my old Navigator, used to spend a lot of time with it and he was pretty clever, so familiarize yourself with it. I don’t believe we’ve ever done a joint jump before so it might be worth going over the co–ordinations.
"Next is . . . ," she pauses for a while in thought as Darishun finally arrives.
"I am sorry for the delay. The starboard corridor was far too crowded with cargo to fit me through. I came as quickly as I could but was oh so careful not to damage any of the supplies." He looks around and decides to stay where he is in the doorway. The room wasn’t large enough for him to find a clear spot and no matter where else he stood, his tail would end up dangerously close to machinery.
"It’s amazing how much cargo these little traders can fit, every available space filled. It’s like a glottal beast whose eyes are bigger than it’s stomach, always eating too much. I’m surprised that the cargo bay isn’t amalgamated into a single . . . What? Oh, OK, I’ll be quiet."
Martha smiles at him as if he were a puppy chastised for being playful. "In that case, we can do something about that. Would you break down two of the staterooms in the port forward section? Once that’s done, would you be so kind as to move the cargo that gets in your way in the corridors into the space that gives us? That way you will be able to move around the ship at least."
Darishun slightly cocks his massive head to one side and looks at Martha a little quizzically before saying, "Perhaps it would work just as well to leave the staterooms as they are in case we need them and just move the bare minimum of cargo? Some of the cargo is a little in the way for me, but not much more so than these teeny tiny corridors as they are. I think that I can move enough supplies from the port and starboard cargo locks to provide tolerable clearance and stuff them into one stateroom. In particular, it would appear that this area is a little cramped for me anyway, so it seems unlikely that you'll want me in here too often." Darishun winks, and then continues, "In any case, I’d best be off."
Darishun looks around for a moment, and then gingerly starts backing out of the engineering section down the long corridor. A little after he disappears from view, a low thump is heard followed by a very, very soft "Oops."
Martha smiles again and shakes her head. "OK, next. Vargas. You said you were ex-scout, would you give me a hand with the J-Drive overhaul? With two of us, we might be able to meet the deadline."
"Sounds good to me," says Vargas, "and by the way, it's 'former scout' never 'ex-scout'."
With that he turns and begins to look over the Jump Drive.
Swann takes a quick look at the others, then says, "Well, I guess I’ll get right on the life support. And when I’m through with that, I’ll take a look at the comps."
He gets the appropriate tools and heads for the maintenance access hatch for the life support system, just off the starboard passageway.
At that the intercom chimed and Argent’s voice echoed through the ship. "Twenty-three hours left to jump stations, time is a ticking."
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Shadowdancer
First Post
Ian and Vasilii head towards the ship’s locker. When they open it, it appears to have been emptied and sterilized. The normal accumulation of detritus that a ship possesses was totally absent.
Ian turns to Vasilii, "Looks like we can confirm that the locker has no contraband! I wonder what happened to it?" He notices a "whiteboard" on the inside of the door containing a list of "emergency" equipment with its locations. Pulling out his handcomp, he says, "It looks like I’ll be running around the ship for a while checking gear. Do you want to help the good Doctor?"
"Indeed that would be a most worthwhile activity. I leave you in hope that all goes well." As Vasilii walks away, Ian McConnell shakes his head. One of these days, he would work out exactly how that Vilani accent worked. He turned back to the list of equipment.
Ten minutes later Ian is jogging back to the bridge to see the Captain. The first three things on his list -- an emergency vacc suit by the port cargo lock, an iris valve emergency key by the iris valve for the cargo bay and a lowberth shock kit by the entryway to the low berth room –- every single one was missing. It looked as if nobody would be accusing them of smuggling anything.
As Ian makes his way back up to the bridge he thinks, "Damn, if the rest of this heap is in as bad shape, we’re going to have a very interesting trip!"
Arriving on the bridge, he finds Argent going over some paperwork. "Captain, it looks like someone was very thorough about decontamination -- the ship’s locker is empty, and the top items in the emergency equipment list are all missing. I’ll go through and complete the inventory, but if it’s all gone, we’re going to have a hard time restocking everything in time to make the launch window."
Argent responds, "Well, do the best you can. Concentrate on the items that we might not be able to pick up once we get there – there’s only a frontier class starport and the local tech level isn’t really up to supporting starship operations."
"Aye, aye Captain. I’ll get moving then."
Ian looks down at his list and calls up a deckplan in order to plan his route most efficiently. Coming to the items in the Engineering spaces he chuckles. "I think I’ll call in for that section of the inventory -- with that Virushi down there, things are likely to be a little tight." He then heads off to complete his task.
Thirty minutes later, he has a list of the needed basic items. "Wow, even with my connections here it’ll be hard to do all this myself -- getting through the bureaucracy will take forever. Maybe Vasilii has some contacts he can work as well." He hits the ship’s communications control. "Vasilii, this is Ian, I need some help running down some of this stuff. Can you give me a hand?"
Back on the bridge, Argent listens to McConnell’s report on the ship’s locker. "That doesn’t sound good. I can’t believe they didn’t even bother to replace the vacc suits after the decontamination. Let me have the list. Wait a moment and let’s contact the Fleet Command."
Argent moves over to the ship’s communication system and opens a channel to the fleet command’s HQ. At the same time, he faxes the list of supplies over to the HQ as well. "This is Marcus Argent, acting CO of the Bray Keaven. Let me speak to Captain Anderson. We’ve perform an inspection of the vessel, and estimate that the ship isn’t quite up to being able to depart within the next 24 hours. The jump drive is just short of misjumping on the next attempt, the life support is woefully inadequate for the current crew complement, and the ship’s locker is not stocked per Imperial regulations for the safe transport of crew and/or passengers. The supplies we have aboard will be useless if we can’t even get them there safely. We can probably resolve many of these issues if we have a few more days for preparations.
"I’ve sent over a list of equipment we need to requisition to replenish the ship’s locker. We just need to know when it will be ready, and we’ll come and get it."
Argent mutes his communicator so he won’t be overheard by Fleet Command while he waits for their response. "Mr. McConnell, let me have your datapad." Argent takes McConnell’s datapad and synchs it with his, transferring Cr25,000 from his accounts to McConnell’s datapad, then returns it. "Let’s assume we’re not getting those supplies, but we’ll wait for their response. The amount I just transferred to you should give us a start on getting the right equipment. If we are able to get the requisition we request from Fleet Command, use that to purchase any additional equipment you see that we can use to defend ourselves. Let’s try to stay away from the PGMP-13s and autocannons, though."
While Argent is prioritizing replacement equipment, the Bridge comm pings, indicating an incoming message.
Fleet Captain Anderson’s face peers out of the display. Clearly he hasn't slept in 24 hours straight. "Argent, I’d love to let you have decent chance to make that hulk meet mil specs, but let’s face it, we don’t have time. I’ll be doing a squadron jump in about 20 hours. If it’s humanly possible, I want you jumping with us. We will probably need the cargo you’ve got. Without the drugs in particular, we will have no chance in saving the refueling depot and I’m concerned about the Cruiser Angelus. If they get something really nasty in their environment, it could rip through the crew in hours. Look, I don’t want you taking a step into the unknown if you can avoid it, but if there is any way at all to make the jump, do it. I’ll try and find the emergency gear you need, get your XO to send a list. Anderson out."
Argent turns away from the screen. Anderson had seemed a bit of a hard case at the first briefing eight hours ago, but this was a little extreme.
Ian turns to Vasilii, "Looks like we can confirm that the locker has no contraband! I wonder what happened to it?" He notices a "whiteboard" on the inside of the door containing a list of "emergency" equipment with its locations. Pulling out his handcomp, he says, "It looks like I’ll be running around the ship for a while checking gear. Do you want to help the good Doctor?"
"Indeed that would be a most worthwhile activity. I leave you in hope that all goes well." As Vasilii walks away, Ian McConnell shakes his head. One of these days, he would work out exactly how that Vilani accent worked. He turned back to the list of equipment.
-----
Ten minutes later Ian is jogging back to the bridge to see the Captain. The first three things on his list -- an emergency vacc suit by the port cargo lock, an iris valve emergency key by the iris valve for the cargo bay and a lowberth shock kit by the entryway to the low berth room –- every single one was missing. It looked as if nobody would be accusing them of smuggling anything.
As Ian makes his way back up to the bridge he thinks, "Damn, if the rest of this heap is in as bad shape, we’re going to have a very interesting trip!"
Arriving on the bridge, he finds Argent going over some paperwork. "Captain, it looks like someone was very thorough about decontamination -- the ship’s locker is empty, and the top items in the emergency equipment list are all missing. I’ll go through and complete the inventory, but if it’s all gone, we’re going to have a hard time restocking everything in time to make the launch window."
Argent responds, "Well, do the best you can. Concentrate on the items that we might not be able to pick up once we get there – there’s only a frontier class starport and the local tech level isn’t really up to supporting starship operations."
"Aye, aye Captain. I’ll get moving then."
Ian looks down at his list and calls up a deckplan in order to plan his route most efficiently. Coming to the items in the Engineering spaces he chuckles. "I think I’ll call in for that section of the inventory -- with that Virushi down there, things are likely to be a little tight." He then heads off to complete his task.
Thirty minutes later, he has a list of the needed basic items. "Wow, even with my connections here it’ll be hard to do all this myself -- getting through the bureaucracy will take forever. Maybe Vasilii has some contacts he can work as well." He hits the ship’s communications control. "Vasilii, this is Ian, I need some help running down some of this stuff. Can you give me a hand?"
-----
Back on the bridge, Argent listens to McConnell’s report on the ship’s locker. "That doesn’t sound good. I can’t believe they didn’t even bother to replace the vacc suits after the decontamination. Let me have the list. Wait a moment and let’s contact the Fleet Command."
Argent moves over to the ship’s communication system and opens a channel to the fleet command’s HQ. At the same time, he faxes the list of supplies over to the HQ as well. "This is Marcus Argent, acting CO of the Bray Keaven. Let me speak to Captain Anderson. We’ve perform an inspection of the vessel, and estimate that the ship isn’t quite up to being able to depart within the next 24 hours. The jump drive is just short of misjumping on the next attempt, the life support is woefully inadequate for the current crew complement, and the ship’s locker is not stocked per Imperial regulations for the safe transport of crew and/or passengers. The supplies we have aboard will be useless if we can’t even get them there safely. We can probably resolve many of these issues if we have a few more days for preparations.
"I’ve sent over a list of equipment we need to requisition to replenish the ship’s locker. We just need to know when it will be ready, and we’ll come and get it."
Argent mutes his communicator so he won’t be overheard by Fleet Command while he waits for their response. "Mr. McConnell, let me have your datapad." Argent takes McConnell’s datapad and synchs it with his, transferring Cr25,000 from his accounts to McConnell’s datapad, then returns it. "Let’s assume we’re not getting those supplies, but we’ll wait for their response. The amount I just transferred to you should give us a start on getting the right equipment. If we are able to get the requisition we request from Fleet Command, use that to purchase any additional equipment you see that we can use to defend ourselves. Let’s try to stay away from the PGMP-13s and autocannons, though."
While Argent is prioritizing replacement equipment, the Bridge comm pings, indicating an incoming message.
Fleet Captain Anderson’s face peers out of the display. Clearly he hasn't slept in 24 hours straight. "Argent, I’d love to let you have decent chance to make that hulk meet mil specs, but let’s face it, we don’t have time. I’ll be doing a squadron jump in about 20 hours. If it’s humanly possible, I want you jumping with us. We will probably need the cargo you’ve got. Without the drugs in particular, we will have no chance in saving the refueling depot and I’m concerned about the Cruiser Angelus. If they get something really nasty in their environment, it could rip through the crew in hours. Look, I don’t want you taking a step into the unknown if you can avoid it, but if there is any way at all to make the jump, do it. I’ll try and find the emergency gear you need, get your XO to send a list. Anderson out."
Argent turns away from the screen. Anderson had seemed a bit of a hard case at the first briefing eight hours ago, but this was a little extreme.
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Shadowdancer
First Post
The Doc sighs and heads back out to the cargo bay. That cargo person with the silly accent had told him there was a list of incoming gear somewhere, so he searches for it and wastes his time for a while. After rummaging around looking for the Vilani’s list unsuccessfully, Saro shrugs and keys up the inventory he had been running on his handcomp. He decides to just jump straight into the cargo, and starts opening boxes.
As he starts to lose himself in the process of open/review/list/close/repeat, the Doc starts to unconsciously hum little snippets from various space operas he’s listened to. After a while he slips into singing Vargr power ballads to himself as he works.
Darishun opens the port inner cargo door to the oddly melodious sounds of something dying in agony. After a brief bit of confusion, he recognizes the Vargr power ballads with a sad shake of the head.
"Excuse me, Dr. Saro?" he softly interrupts before the really bad part of this particular ballad begins, "Martha asked me to move some of these supplies in the port cargo lock area into one of the lower staterooms, and I was wondering if you wanted to look at them before I moved them? I wasn’t sure if we should put things like emergency rations or particular medical supplies into the stateroom."
"Hmm? Wha. . . ?" Doc looks up distractedly. "Oh, let’s see . . . I haven’t finished everything yet, but . . . " he waves at some crates "these don’t contain anything too vital, maybe start with those, and I’ll see what else I can sort out in the meantime."
Doc smiles at the large sophont as he turns back to inventorying the crate he has open.
Darishun responds, "I will move these first," and sets about moving the indicated crates into the first cabin. Once he fills up the cabin, he then sets about moving the cargo that is in or near the corridors into the cargo bay. Once finished there, he’ll head up to the lounge to grab a snack.
Vasilii acknowledges the huge sophont with a brisk businesslike nod as it ambles past him into the lounge. Then again shortly after as it ambles back to work.
"It is going to be interesting if we ever do emergency drills with that huge thing acting like a plug in the corridors, Vasilii thinks. He watches out of the corner of his eye while Darishun casually bounces a 2–ton imaging table out onto the cargo lifter. "On the other hand there were some definite advantages."
A thought strikes him and he has a quick look in the lounge register. "Godsteeth," he thinks, "the beast’s ‘small snack’ consumed two full days of marine rations. That was 8,000 calories, what is it going to be like when it has time for a big meal!" Hastily he checks the level of rations. At this rate, their amount of consumables would be down to three months before they even left. High calorie foods would make a big difference, but the Virushi still made a big dent.
As he starts to lose himself in the process of open/review/list/close/repeat, the Doc starts to unconsciously hum little snippets from various space operas he’s listened to. After a while he slips into singing Vargr power ballads to himself as he works.
Darishun opens the port inner cargo door to the oddly melodious sounds of something dying in agony. After a brief bit of confusion, he recognizes the Vargr power ballads with a sad shake of the head.
"Excuse me, Dr. Saro?" he softly interrupts before the really bad part of this particular ballad begins, "Martha asked me to move some of these supplies in the port cargo lock area into one of the lower staterooms, and I was wondering if you wanted to look at them before I moved them? I wasn’t sure if we should put things like emergency rations or particular medical supplies into the stateroom."
"Hmm? Wha. . . ?" Doc looks up distractedly. "Oh, let’s see . . . I haven’t finished everything yet, but . . . " he waves at some crates "these don’t contain anything too vital, maybe start with those, and I’ll see what else I can sort out in the meantime."
Doc smiles at the large sophont as he turns back to inventorying the crate he has open.
Darishun responds, "I will move these first," and sets about moving the indicated crates into the first cabin. Once he fills up the cabin, he then sets about moving the cargo that is in or near the corridors into the cargo bay. Once finished there, he’ll head up to the lounge to grab a snack.
Vasilii acknowledges the huge sophont with a brisk businesslike nod as it ambles past him into the lounge. Then again shortly after as it ambles back to work.
"It is going to be interesting if we ever do emergency drills with that huge thing acting like a plug in the corridors, Vasilii thinks. He watches out of the corner of his eye while Darishun casually bounces a 2–ton imaging table out onto the cargo lifter. "On the other hand there were some definite advantages."
A thought strikes him and he has a quick look in the lounge register. "Godsteeth," he thinks, "the beast’s ‘small snack’ consumed two full days of marine rations. That was 8,000 calories, what is it going to be like when it has time for a big meal!" Hastily he checks the level of rations. At this rate, their amount of consumables would be down to three months before they even left. High calorie foods would make a big difference, but the Virushi still made a big dent.
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Morte
Explorer
Eyas said:I can hardly wait till they make the jump.
Jumpspace dragon 1: Is that a ship?
Jumpspace dragon 2: It thinks it is.
Jumpspace dragon 1: Shall we eat it?
Jumpspace dragon 2: Nah, look at it. You don't know where it's been.
Jumpspace dragon 1: <pause> I suppose you're right. We might catch something.
Shadowdancer
First Post
When we were role-playing all this a year ago, that was my thought exactly.Eyas said:I can hardly wait till they make the jump.
Broccli_Head
Explorer
Is this where I sign up to support my local Traveller d20 Story Hour?
Shadowdancer
First Post
Welcome aboard Mr. Broccli Head. Stand by for more action aboard the Bray Keaven.Broccli_Head said:Is this where I sign up to support my local Traveller d20 Story Hour?
