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Traveller T20: Tales of the Bray Keaven [Updated 12-20-05]
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<blockquote data-quote="Shadowdancer" data-source="post: 1439061" data-attributes="member: 515"><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Meanwhile, on the bridge Vasilii completes his shut–down procedures, runs spot checks of the turrets, and then heads towards his cabin to change. Passing by some of the mounds of Marine rations, he does some quick calculations to reveal that they have enough rations for 1,200 days, assuming that they don’t die of Marine–ration poisoning before then.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"Surely we could sell off nine or 10 dTons of rations," he thinks.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">-----</p><p></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Darishun grabs a Marine ration for a snack, wolfs it down in his massive maw, and then heads towards the rear cargo airlock.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">-----</p><p></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Martha starts her diagnostics routine running and goes with Swann to grab some tools and prepare to go outside. Once geared up, they head towards the starboard airlock and step into the late afternoon sun and dust.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">After heading down the stairs and nodding to the pair of Bromlian guards stationed at the bottom, the two start a circuit of the ship. They don’t get far before they notice some light surface scoring on the starboard side, roughly near life support. The scoring does appear to be on the surface only, though, and is very light. Noting the paint damage, the two continue their inspection and do not notice any other damage before winding up at the stairs to the starboard airlock again.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Once back inside, they check the diagnostics and find that Martha’s routines show nothing unexpected: just jump drives in need of a decent overhaul but still within specs. Martha and Swann then head to the top of the Bray Keaven, don harnesses and belaying lines, and drop over the side of the ship in order to inspect the scoring more closely. The scoring is indeed very light and really only enough to make a slight, 2-3mm grove in the surface of the ship.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Swann runs a gloved hand along the burned groove. "Looks like we were luckier than I thought," he says to Martha. "Another degree or two, and the cutter’s laser would have damaged our life support. I guess we owe our pilot a heartfelt ‘Thank you.’ And a beer."</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Martha squints over the scoring, meticulously reviewing portions of the hull. "We certainly were lucky. That shot didn’t damage the jump grid.’ She pats the hull affectionately. "The more that’s damaged, the more likely we’d be lost on our next jump. Misjumps are hell!"</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"What do you think, Martha? Do you have some sealant we can fill this groove in with? The ship will need to have her paint touched up, but I guess that can wait until we get back to Sentry. Unless things get very boring around here. Which I have a feeling they won’t."</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">"I can come up with something to take care of this," she says. "But first, I probably should get everything else taken care of. I’ll put this on my duty detail for over the next few days."</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">While on top of the ship, Swann takes a moment to survey the area around the <em>Bray Keaven</em>. He notes that the perimeter around the ship is about a 100m circle with eight armored personnel vehicles evenly spaced and approximately 50 or so armed guards. All have their weapons trained away from the far trader.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">The airport itself is a small facility with two parallel runways. The <em>Bray Keaven</em> sits off on a corner of the airport, on the edge of a taxiway/airplane parking area and approximately 200m from the chain–link fence that surrounds the airport. There seems to be a large number of civilians camped about 50 or so meters beyond the fence in the dry plains, but roving patrols of soldiers in hovercraft appear to be keeping them away from the fence itself.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Once back in engineering, Martha checks and does have supplies to take care of the scoring in the hull, and she decides that doing so would probably take a couple of hours. She even has some extra paint to restore the finish.</span></span></p><p> <span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p><p style="text-align: center"><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">-----</p><p></span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px">Elsewhere, Ian does his own tactical survey and notes that the <em>Bray Keaven</em> is pretty well surrounded by a large number of armed guards and armored vehicles at a respectful distance. None have their weapons pointed at the <em>Bray Keaven, </em>though, and he decides that the locals seem to be pretty intent on having the ship well guarded from external threats. Ian does start the anti-hijack program running, though, and then goes to the cargo hold.</span></span></p><p><span style="font-family: 'Verdana'"><span style="font-size: 10px"></span></span></p></blockquote><p></p>
[QUOTE="Shadowdancer, post: 1439061, member: 515"] [font=Verdana][size=2]Meanwhile, on the bridge Vasilii completes his shut–down procedures, runs spot checks of the turrets, and then heads towards his cabin to change. Passing by some of the mounds of Marine rations, he does some quick calculations to reveal that they have enough rations for 1,200 days, assuming that they don’t die of Marine–ration poisoning before then. "Surely we could sell off nine or 10 dTons of rations," he thinks. [center]-----[/center] Darishun grabs a Marine ration for a snack, wolfs it down in his massive maw, and then heads towards the rear cargo airlock. [center]-----[/center] Martha starts her diagnostics routine running and goes with Swann to grab some tools and prepare to go outside. Once geared up, they head towards the starboard airlock and step into the late afternoon sun and dust. After heading down the stairs and nodding to the pair of Bromlian guards stationed at the bottom, the two start a circuit of the ship. They don’t get far before they notice some light surface scoring on the starboard side, roughly near life support. The scoring does appear to be on the surface only, though, and is very light. Noting the paint damage, the two continue their inspection and do not notice any other damage before winding up at the stairs to the starboard airlock again. Once back inside, they check the diagnostics and find that Martha’s routines show nothing unexpected: just jump drives in need of a decent overhaul but still within specs. Martha and Swann then head to the top of the Bray Keaven, don harnesses and belaying lines, and drop over the side of the ship in order to inspect the scoring more closely. The scoring is indeed very light and really only enough to make a slight, 2-3mm grove in the surface of the ship. Swann runs a gloved hand along the burned groove. "Looks like we were luckier than I thought," he says to Martha. "Another degree or two, and the cutter’s laser would have damaged our life support. I guess we owe our pilot a heartfelt ‘Thank you.’ And a beer." Martha squints over the scoring, meticulously reviewing portions of the hull. "We certainly were lucky. That shot didn’t damage the jump grid.’ She pats the hull affectionately. "The more that’s damaged, the more likely we’d be lost on our next jump. Misjumps are hell!" "What do you think, Martha? Do you have some sealant we can fill this groove in with? The ship will need to have her paint touched up, but I guess that can wait until we get back to Sentry. Unless things get very boring around here. Which I have a feeling they won’t." "I can come up with something to take care of this," she says. "But first, I probably should get everything else taken care of. I’ll put this on my duty detail for over the next few days." While on top of the ship, Swann takes a moment to survey the area around the [i]Bray Keaven[/i]. He notes that the perimeter around the ship is about a 100m circle with eight armored personnel vehicles evenly spaced and approximately 50 or so armed guards. All have their weapons trained away from the far trader. The airport itself is a small facility with two parallel runways. The [i]Bray Keaven[/i] sits off on a corner of the airport, on the edge of a taxiway/airplane parking area and approximately 200m from the chain–link fence that surrounds the airport. There seems to be a large number of civilians camped about 50 or so meters beyond the fence in the dry plains, but roving patrols of soldiers in hovercraft appear to be keeping them away from the fence itself. Once back in engineering, Martha checks and does have supplies to take care of the scoring in the hull, and she decides that doing so would probably take a couple of hours. She even has some extra paint to restore the finish. [center]-----[/center] Elsewhere, Ian does his own tactical survey and notes that the [i]Bray Keaven[/i] is pretty well surrounded by a large number of armed guards and armored vehicles at a respectful distance. None have their weapons pointed at the [i]Bray Keaven, [/i]though, and he decides that the locals seem to be pretty intent on having the ship well guarded from external threats. Ian does start the anti-hijack program running, though, and then goes to the cargo hold. [/size][/font] [/QUOTE]
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Traveller T20: Tales of the Bray Keaven [Updated 12-20-05]
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