There was a knock at the door.
"Come in, Linda," said Nathan.
The ship's engineer entered the relatively spacious Captain's Quarters and sat down in the chair Nathan indicated.
"Despite what my recruiter told me when I signed up with the Merchant Marine, this job isn't terribly exciting," said Nathan. "In fact, when it isn't boring or hard, it's usually terrifying and painful. Thus, my main rule of thumb is that any good news, no matter how minor, should be given a due celebration. With that in mind, I was hoping you'd join me for a celebratory toast."
"Sounds good to me," said Linda, "what are we celebrating?"
"I've just finished up the books for this trip," said Nathan, getting out a bottle and a couple of glasses. "We officially have enough money in reserve to keep the ship flying for a half-month. If our stuff got stolen or spaced, we'd have enough money to cover expenses. Thanks to that Zinc contract and some really lucrative goods we've moved on spec, we're about 33% ahead of my profit projections. I'd be shocked if our luck held out like this forever, but we're off to a fantastic start."
Nathan set full glasses down in front of them. "And our prospects here on Pandora look fantastic. There are tons and tons of cargo and dozens of people headed for Umemii. We'll have no trouble filling the ship and that puts us within striking distance of having a full month's reserve cash on hand."
"My retirement account thanks you," said Linda. "But we're probably going to need that reserve, it's going to be hard to fill our hold on every stop and we'll either need to take on more spec or just eat it for a leg."
"All the more reason to celebrate our speedily increasing reserves," replied Nathan.
He lifted his glass, "So here's to a half-month of insurance and the prospects of more coverage soon."
"Cheers," said Linda as their glasses clinked.
Wednesday, June 4, 2008
Monday, June 2, 2008
Wildeman Times
Lloyd and Nathan were sitting up in the cockpit. There wasn't anything to see or do here in the middle of hyperspace, but they'd come in for their routine checks and there was little enough else to do in the ship. So they'd wound up sitting and staring out the windows into nothingness.
"We should be able to get some real shore leave on Pandora, eh Captain?" asked Lloyd.
"Yeah, Pandora actually has an atmosphere," answered Nathan, "it's a lot more pleasant than Wildeman."
They'd spent their entire week in-system on board the Option with a few brief stays at an orbital space station. The station had been spartan in the extreme and the crew generally stayed on the Option when they could.
"With the miners up in arms about working conditions though, I doubt we'd have had much fun even if we'd gone down to the surface," continued Nathan.
"Nothing I like better than wearing a VacSuit when I'm dirtside," agreed Lloyd. "Still, it seems like Ed had a good time."
"Oh?"
"Well, he went onto the station and didn't come off again until the end. Looks like he found something to occupy his time."
"Or someone," suggested Nathan. He didn't know what Ed had been up to, but he assumed it was some sort of Imperial business and he wasn't too anxious to have the crew prying into it. He didn't really want to know all that badly himself. But Ed had arrived back with plenty of time to spare and not a word about where he'd been."
"Even the twins couldn't find any games going on."
"Well, it's probably for the best. Those two have a knack for getting into an awful lot of trouble -- as you well know."
"Yeah," said Lloyd wincing.
"Well, the last thing a fragile mining world with labor disputes needs is those two loose cannons stirring things up. Sometimes a little boredom is good. Luckily, Pandora is a much more hospitable planet and everyone can find some fun. Heck, if nothing else, SuSAG makes enough happy pills on that planet to make a Zhent smile."
"I don't think I want to be SuSAG's guinea pig."
"I'm sure you could if you wanted, but SuSAG is pretty lenient about recreational pharmaceuticals. You get a quick bioscan when you go dirtside. You wearables then help you select from a wide range of substances. Everything is dosed out properly for you and it's all cross-referenced to prevent bad reactions."
"You sound pretty up on this stuff."
"What can I say, I'm a law-abiding citizen, but if the law lets you legal get high as a kite...that's pretty nice. Now, I am very careful," Nathan added hastily, "your wearables can steer you to stuff that has a strong kick, but a finite duration and a minimal risk of addiction. Pandora also requires that you do your drugs in certain designated areas. It's basically a drug bar. You go in, get high, play with all the cool toys. If you get out of hand, the bouncers will isolate you, have a bad trip or reaction and there's a med-tech there to help out. It's pretty good stuff if you just follow the guidelines."
"So that's where you're headed when we touch down?"
"I wish. Sadly, wearing the Captain's hat means I really don't have the time to partake. I've got to offload this batch of crystals I picked up on spec in Wildeman. I got it dirt cheap and I'm expecting to turn a pretty good profit on it, but I've got to find buyers, look into our next load of cargo, get everyone paid up or bribed off and get us ready for the next mission. I really don't have the time. But maybe you can go and let me know how it is."
"Well, maybe I will."
"There's plenty of other stuff if you're not interested, but I do recommend it."
The radio crackled, "Captain, this is Lin. Can you come back here a minute, I need to talk with you about the latest diagnostics. I've got this weird anomaly I'm trying to track down, and I'd like your opinion."
"Sure thing, Lin, I'll be there in a moment," answered Nathan. "Well, guess breaktime is over. Let me know if anything changes."
"Sure thing," said Lloyd as the Captain heaved himself out of the chair and headed back towards engineering.
"We should be able to get some real shore leave on Pandora, eh Captain?" asked Lloyd.
"Yeah, Pandora actually has an atmosphere," answered Nathan, "it's a lot more pleasant than Wildeman."
They'd spent their entire week in-system on board the Option with a few brief stays at an orbital space station. The station had been spartan in the extreme and the crew generally stayed on the Option when they could.
"With the miners up in arms about working conditions though, I doubt we'd have had much fun even if we'd gone down to the surface," continued Nathan.
"Nothing I like better than wearing a VacSuit when I'm dirtside," agreed Lloyd. "Still, it seems like Ed had a good time."
"Oh?"
"Well, he went onto the station and didn't come off again until the end. Looks like he found something to occupy his time."
"Or someone," suggested Nathan. He didn't know what Ed had been up to, but he assumed it was some sort of Imperial business and he wasn't too anxious to have the crew prying into it. He didn't really want to know all that badly himself. But Ed had arrived back with plenty of time to spare and not a word about where he'd been."
"Even the twins couldn't find any games going on."
"Well, it's probably for the best. Those two have a knack for getting into an awful lot of trouble -- as you well know."
"Yeah," said Lloyd wincing.
"Well, the last thing a fragile mining world with labor disputes needs is those two loose cannons stirring things up. Sometimes a little boredom is good. Luckily, Pandora is a much more hospitable planet and everyone can find some fun. Heck, if nothing else, SuSAG makes enough happy pills on that planet to make a Zhent smile."
"I don't think I want to be SuSAG's guinea pig."
"I'm sure you could if you wanted, but SuSAG is pretty lenient about recreational pharmaceuticals. You get a quick bioscan when you go dirtside. You wearables then help you select from a wide range of substances. Everything is dosed out properly for you and it's all cross-referenced to prevent bad reactions."
"You sound pretty up on this stuff."
"What can I say, I'm a law-abiding citizen, but if the law lets you legal get high as a kite...that's pretty nice. Now, I am very careful," Nathan added hastily, "your wearables can steer you to stuff that has a strong kick, but a finite duration and a minimal risk of addiction. Pandora also requires that you do your drugs in certain designated areas. It's basically a drug bar. You go in, get high, play with all the cool toys. If you get out of hand, the bouncers will isolate you, have a bad trip or reaction and there's a med-tech there to help out. It's pretty good stuff if you just follow the guidelines."
"So that's where you're headed when we touch down?"
"I wish. Sadly, wearing the Captain's hat means I really don't have the time to partake. I've got to offload this batch of crystals I picked up on spec in Wildeman. I got it dirt cheap and I'm expecting to turn a pretty good profit on it, but I've got to find buyers, look into our next load of cargo, get everyone paid up or bribed off and get us ready for the next mission. I really don't have the time. But maybe you can go and let me know how it is."
"Well, maybe I will."
"There's plenty of other stuff if you're not interested, but I do recommend it."
The radio crackled, "Captain, this is Lin. Can you come back here a minute, I need to talk with you about the latest diagnostics. I've got this weird anomaly I'm trying to track down, and I'd like your opinion."
"Sure thing, Lin, I'll be there in a moment," answered Nathan. "Well, guess breaktime is over. Let me know if anything changes."
"Sure thing," said Lloyd as the Captain heaved himself out of the chair and headed back towards engineering.
Monday, May 12, 2008
Beggar's Can't Be Choosers
Nathan looked over the shipping notices with a sigh. There were plenty of passengers ready to go but even if he took on all the waiting cargo, he'd barely fill half of his hold. Since Wildeman was only a Jump-1 trip away, the collapsible tanks had been stored away and he had even more cargo space to fill.
Listings for things he could trade on spec were even more dismal. There were tons of grain, but the asking price was a bit too high for Nathan's tastes. There was also a lot of armored vehicles, but even if he thought there was a market for the stuff, he'd never be able to afford one of them.
Still, Canary Gold had offered him a lead and he now sat in the offices of the Ministry of Natural Resources hoping that there might be something for him here. The waiting room was stark and drab, even for a low-tech world like Iilgan. The civil service that ran the place operated with an eye for efficiency, not aesthetics.
Nathan had just tried to find a new, least uncomfortable position, when a woman came into the waiting area.
"Mr. Fletcher?" the woman said, "I'm Erika Fee."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," said Nate, rising to his feet and shaking her hand.
"Likewise," said Ms. Fee, "I hear you've got an interest in moving some cargo for us. Let's go into my office and see what we've got for you."
He followed her down a grey-green hallway and into a small office. He took a seat in front of a battered steel desk and nearly goggled at the crude terminal she had sitting on it. Iilgan was a pretty nice place to visit, but the lack of technology never made you feel like staying.
"Iilgan has a fairly small mining presence and so we generally consume everything we produce. Not a whole lot to spare for export. But sometimes we get some excesses that we can profitably trade away to our neighbors. How big is your ship, Captain Fletcher?"
"Depends on how far you want the cargo to go," replied Nathan. Our next stop is Wildeman and for a Jump-1 we've got 190 tons of cargo space. We could make a Jump-2 if the cargo was right, but that reduces our cargo room to 150 tons."
"Excellent. We don't have any on-going trades with anyone at Jump-2, but your cargo capacity is perfect for Wildeman. We recently uncovered a huge deposit of Zinc. It was more than adequate to bring our stocks up to full and we had enough to offer it out on the open market. Wildeman jumped at the chance to get it. They've got a number of industrial uses for it. The only problem is that they've got a primary facility where they want it shipped and they really want the whole thing in bulk. Locally, we just don't have the shipping capacity to move all that ore over there in one go. If we broke it up, it'd take several trips and we'd wind up losing money on it."
"But by having it sit here, you're also losing money on it."
"And it's taking up valuable warehouse space. Yes, you can see our problem. Your ship is well-suited to solving that problem for us. You can haul the zinc over in one shipment and we'll turn a nice profit on it."
"Then there should be a bit of bonus for helping you realize that profit."
"Absolutely, Captain. We're prepared to pay you a 50% premium on the standard shipping rates for you to take this to Wildeman."
Nathan did some fast calculations. Fifteen hundred credits a ton for...
"How many tons?" asked Nathan.
"One hundred fifty on the nose," said Ms. Fee.
Nathan's wearables finished the calculations and the profit margin was very good indeed.
"I think that's more than fair," said Nathan. "I believe we have a deal Ms. Fee. We'll be departing in a couple of days. If you can get your ore down to the spaceport in 24-48 hours, we'll see that it's loaded up."
Ms. Fee's fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'm authorizing the transfer now, Captain Fletcher. You should see the cargo arriving by noon tomorrow. It will come with an invoice you can take to the Iilgan embassy in Wildeman. They will be happy to make payment for your delivery there."
"Very good. Is there anything else?"
There was a grinding and groaning noise and Ms. Fee tore off a sheet of paper from the printer sitting on a small file cabinet. "Just sign at the bottom and take the bottom copy for yourself."
Nathan did so and Ms. Fee escorted him to the door. "Thanks so much, Captain Fletcher, it's a pleasure doing business with you."
"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Fee", said Nathan. As we wandered out of the ministry, he marveled at the efficiency of the process and the nice paycheck this run was going to earn him.
Listings for things he could trade on spec were even more dismal. There were tons of grain, but the asking price was a bit too high for Nathan's tastes. There was also a lot of armored vehicles, but even if he thought there was a market for the stuff, he'd never be able to afford one of them.
Still, Canary Gold had offered him a lead and he now sat in the offices of the Ministry of Natural Resources hoping that there might be something for him here. The waiting room was stark and drab, even for a low-tech world like Iilgan. The civil service that ran the place operated with an eye for efficiency, not aesthetics.
Nathan had just tried to find a new, least uncomfortable position, when a woman came into the waiting area.
"Mr. Fletcher?" the woman said, "I'm Erika Fee."
"Pleasure to meet you, ma'am," said Nate, rising to his feet and shaking her hand.
"Likewise," said Ms. Fee, "I hear you've got an interest in moving some cargo for us. Let's go into my office and see what we've got for you."
He followed her down a grey-green hallway and into a small office. He took a seat in front of a battered steel desk and nearly goggled at the crude terminal she had sitting on it. Iilgan was a pretty nice place to visit, but the lack of technology never made you feel like staying.
"Iilgan has a fairly small mining presence and so we generally consume everything we produce. Not a whole lot to spare for export. But sometimes we get some excesses that we can profitably trade away to our neighbors. How big is your ship, Captain Fletcher?"
"Depends on how far you want the cargo to go," replied Nathan. Our next stop is Wildeman and for a Jump-1 we've got 190 tons of cargo space. We could make a Jump-2 if the cargo was right, but that reduces our cargo room to 150 tons."
"Excellent. We don't have any on-going trades with anyone at Jump-2, but your cargo capacity is perfect for Wildeman. We recently uncovered a huge deposit of Zinc. It was more than adequate to bring our stocks up to full and we had enough to offer it out on the open market. Wildeman jumped at the chance to get it. They've got a number of industrial uses for it. The only problem is that they've got a primary facility where they want it shipped and they really want the whole thing in bulk. Locally, we just don't have the shipping capacity to move all that ore over there in one go. If we broke it up, it'd take several trips and we'd wind up losing money on it."
"But by having it sit here, you're also losing money on it."
"And it's taking up valuable warehouse space. Yes, you can see our problem. Your ship is well-suited to solving that problem for us. You can haul the zinc over in one shipment and we'll turn a nice profit on it."
"Then there should be a bit of bonus for helping you realize that profit."
"Absolutely, Captain. We're prepared to pay you a 50% premium on the standard shipping rates for you to take this to Wildeman."
Nathan did some fast calculations. Fifteen hundred credits a ton for...
"How many tons?" asked Nathan.
"One hundred fifty on the nose," said Ms. Fee.
Nathan's wearables finished the calculations and the profit margin was very good indeed.
"I think that's more than fair," said Nathan. "I believe we have a deal Ms. Fee. We'll be departing in a couple of days. If you can get your ore down to the spaceport in 24-48 hours, we'll see that it's loaded up."
Ms. Fee's fingers flew over the keyboard. "I'm authorizing the transfer now, Captain Fletcher. You should see the cargo arriving by noon tomorrow. It will come with an invoice you can take to the Iilgan embassy in Wildeman. They will be happy to make payment for your delivery there."
"Very good. Is there anything else?"
There was a grinding and groaning noise and Ms. Fee tore off a sheet of paper from the printer sitting on a small file cabinet. "Just sign at the bottom and take the bottom copy for yourself."
Nathan did so and Ms. Fee escorted him to the door. "Thanks so much, Captain Fletcher, it's a pleasure doing business with you."
"The pleasure is all mine, Ms. Fee", said Nathan. As we wandered out of the ministry, he marveled at the efficiency of the process and the nice paycheck this run was going to earn him.
Tuesday, May 6, 2008
Welcome to Iilgan
The Option flashed into existence in the Iilgan system. After confirming jump success, the ship made a few thrust corrections and began it's long journey in-system towards the planet.
"Got a contact, Captain", said Ed.
"I'm on it," said Jake.
"It isn't heading in our direction though. Long way off, too."
The radio crackled to life. "Hail, My Other Option," came a voice, "this is Canary Gold. Doing a spot of prospecting out here. Good to see another face once in awhile."
"Hello, Canary, this is Captain Fletcher of the Option. Happy to chat with you a bit. Hope you can fill me in on some local news."
"Not much to tell. Locals pretty much lost interest in space exploration. The starport is maintained by a coalition of off-world companies to support their ships, but that's about it. It's not much, but you shouldn't have trouble getting a berth. You guys really in from Fist?"
"That's right. There was a backlog of stuff coming out of the Imperium for Iilgan so it was a pretty profitable trip."
"Better than I've been doing. Well, you might find it a bit tricky to fill up around here. We mostly get small free traders to do break bulk work every so often. Actually, now that I think about it, if you've got the cargo room, you may want to go direct to the Ministry of Natural Resources. Every so often, they come up with a big load of raw materials, minerals and the like, which they can't use, but can't bear to throw out. Most of the packet traders won't touch it because there's just too much and the Ministry wants it to go out in 100 ton lots. If you were to take it off their hands, they might pay well for it."
"Good to know, Canary, we'll be sure to check it out. Hope you find something worthwhile out here."
"Me too, Canary out."
Nathan turned to Ed. "Well," he said, "that sounds promising. And from the library info we have, it looks like we don't have to worry about the twins packing an arsenal into town."
"Yeah," said Ed, "they're pretty strict about that kind of thing. I'm probably going to be gone for a couple of days during leave, but I'll be in touch with you regularly."
"As long as you're back before we leave."
"Yeah, it's nothing big. I understand that Iilgan is really a pretty nice place. Probably a bit too quiet for the twins' tastes, but pleasant enough for everyone else."
"I hope so. I also hope this Ministry lead pans out. If we're going to Pandora next, we're going to have to have a full ship or something really valuable to ship over there. Whatever it is, it's almost certainly going to be bulk raw materials. It's not like these guys are be making some high-tech gizmo Pandora needs."
"There might be enough break-bulk stuff to fill us up. But at least we're turning a profit on this run."
"So far, so good." answered Nate.
"Got a contact, Captain", said Ed.
"I'm on it," said Jake.
"It isn't heading in our direction though. Long way off, too."
The radio crackled to life. "Hail, My Other Option," came a voice, "this is Canary Gold. Doing a spot of prospecting out here. Good to see another face once in awhile."
"Hello, Canary, this is Captain Fletcher of the Option. Happy to chat with you a bit. Hope you can fill me in on some local news."
"Not much to tell. Locals pretty much lost interest in space exploration. The starport is maintained by a coalition of off-world companies to support their ships, but that's about it. It's not much, but you shouldn't have trouble getting a berth. You guys really in from Fist?"
"That's right. There was a backlog of stuff coming out of the Imperium for Iilgan so it was a pretty profitable trip."
"Better than I've been doing. Well, you might find it a bit tricky to fill up around here. We mostly get small free traders to do break bulk work every so often. Actually, now that I think about it, if you've got the cargo room, you may want to go direct to the Ministry of Natural Resources. Every so often, they come up with a big load of raw materials, minerals and the like, which they can't use, but can't bear to throw out. Most of the packet traders won't touch it because there's just too much and the Ministry wants it to go out in 100 ton lots. If you were to take it off their hands, they might pay well for it."
"Good to know, Canary, we'll be sure to check it out. Hope you find something worthwhile out here."
"Me too, Canary out."
Nathan turned to Ed. "Well," he said, "that sounds promising. And from the library info we have, it looks like we don't have to worry about the twins packing an arsenal into town."
"Yeah," said Ed, "they're pretty strict about that kind of thing. I'm probably going to be gone for a couple of days during leave, but I'll be in touch with you regularly."
"As long as you're back before we leave."
"Yeah, it's nothing big. I understand that Iilgan is really a pretty nice place. Probably a bit too quiet for the twins' tastes, but pleasant enough for everyone else."
"I hope so. I also hope this Ministry lead pans out. If we're going to Pandora next, we're going to have to have a full ship or something really valuable to ship over there. Whatever it is, it's almost certainly going to be bulk raw materials. It's not like these guys are be making some high-tech gizmo Pandora needs."
"There might be enough break-bulk stuff to fill us up. But at least we're turning a profit on this run."
"So far, so good." answered Nate.
Thursday, May 1, 2008
The Rest of the Crew
Classic Traveller Stats for the other crew members of My Other Option:
Edward Collins -- Ship's Pilot and Imperial Spy
Scout 6A9AA8 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 110000
Computer-1, Gun Combat-1, Jack-o-T-1, Mechanical-2,
Medical-2, Navigation-1, Pilot-3, Scout-0, Vacc Suit-1, Vehicle-1
Blade, Gun
Lloyd Edgerson -- Navigator
Merchant 4th Officer 4A8366 Age 34 4 Terms Cr 65000
Bribery-1, Electronic-1, Gun Combat-1, Merchant-0, Navigation-1,
Streetwise-1
Blade
"Helpful" (Aslan nickname) -- Steward
Merchant 3rd Officer 7777D7 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 61000
Administration-1, Bribery-1, Computer-2, Medical-1, Merchant-0, Tolerance-1
Steward-2, Streetwise-2
Jake Hudson -- Gunner
Merchant 2nd Officer A6486A Age 46 7 Terms Cr 35000
Gun Combat-1, Gunnery-2, Merchant-0, Navigation-2, Streetwise-3,
Vacc Suit-1, Vehicle-1
Gun x3, Low Passage x2
Samantha (Sam) Hudson -- Gunner
Merchant 3rd Officer C8646A Age 46 7 Terms Cr 51000
Blade Combat-1, Electronic-1, Gun Combat-1, Gunnery-1,
Jack-o-T-1, Merchant-0, Streetwise-1, Vacc Suit-1
Blade, Low Passage x2
Edward Collins -- Ship's Pilot and Imperial Spy
Scout 6A9AA8 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 110000
Computer-1, Gun Combat-1, Jack-o-T-1, Mechanical-2,
Medical-2, Navigation-1, Pilot-3, Scout-0, Vacc Suit-1, Vehicle-1
Blade, Gun
Lloyd Edgerson -- Navigator
Merchant 4th Officer 4A8366 Age 34 4 Terms Cr 65000
Bribery-1, Electronic-1, Gun Combat-1, Merchant-0, Navigation-1,
Streetwise-1
Blade
"Helpful" (Aslan nickname) -- Steward
Merchant 3rd Officer 7777D7 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 61000
Administration-1, Bribery-1, Computer-2, Medical-1, Merchant-0, Tolerance-1
Steward-2, Streetwise-2
Jake Hudson -- Gunner
Merchant 2nd Officer A6486A Age 46 7 Terms Cr 35000
Gun Combat-1, Gunnery-2, Merchant-0, Navigation-2, Streetwise-3,
Vacc Suit-1, Vehicle-1
Gun x3, Low Passage x2
Samantha (Sam) Hudson -- Gunner
Merchant 3rd Officer C8646A Age 46 7 Terms Cr 51000
Blade Combat-1, Electronic-1, Gun Combat-1, Gunnery-1,
Jack-o-T-1, Merchant-0, Streetwise-1, Vacc Suit-1
Blade, Low Passage x2
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
Now leaving Fist
"Mr. Edgerson," said Nathan, "perhaps I was remiss in not warning you about the Hudson twin's penchant for touring local correctional facilities."
"I'm sorry about all this, Captain," said Lloyd.
"As far as I can tell, this wasn't really your fault. Just please try and avoid mysterious young women throwing themselves at you in the future?"
"Yes sir."
"And as for you two," said Nathan to the twins, "I should just hire two new gunners right here and now! I don't need this kind of trouble. Pull any stunts like this out there and they might decide to hold me responsible. I won't stand for it!"
"There was a fellow crew member in trouble and we rescued him," said Jake.
"He didn't need rescuing!" yelled Nathan, "They asked him a few questions and were letting him go when you two clowns decided to play commando!"
"We also rescued the victim of an undeclared trade war kidnapping," said Sam.
"And now I have to worry that Korashi LTD will decide to undeclare a war against me."
"They won't do that, Captain," said Jake. "Korashi has SuSAG breathing down their neck and, quite frankly, one freelance trader is the least of their worries now."
"You should've contacted me."
"Shore leave is shore leave," said Sam. "We're off-duty and responsible to no one but ourselves. You don't want us manning the guns, it's your right to hire someone else. We'll manage."
"Who else is going to be dumb enough to hire two loose cannons like you? You've been bouncing around from one UFTA ship to another, always causing trouble. You'd been cooling your heels for months when I looked you up. No one would deal with you. The only reason I hired you on was because I still owe you one and because when you two are doing your jobs, you're both damn good at it. But this isn't the UFTA, where you can get easily transferred because your old captain was anxious to foist you off on someone else. This time, there's only the Option and if you screw it up, you're out. Is that clear?"
The twins nodded.
"Good. While you lot were being hosted by the local government, we got the ship fully loaded. Lot of cargo headed to Iilgan that was just sitting around waiting to be picked up. Got a full slate of passengers too. So get back on the ship and get ready for liftoff, we're leaving as soon as Lloyd gets our route planned."
***
Later, Nathan threw himself down in the co-pilot's chair muttering to himself.
"I see we got our little jailbirds back," said Ed.
"I don't really want to talk about it," growled Nathan, "Did our jump drives get their timers reset?"
"Yes. We're good for another three months or until we hit Pandora, whichever comes first."
"All right, let's get out of here."
"I'm sorry about all this, Captain," said Lloyd.
"As far as I can tell, this wasn't really your fault. Just please try and avoid mysterious young women throwing themselves at you in the future?"
"Yes sir."
"And as for you two," said Nathan to the twins, "I should just hire two new gunners right here and now! I don't need this kind of trouble. Pull any stunts like this out there and they might decide to hold me responsible. I won't stand for it!"
"There was a fellow crew member in trouble and we rescued him," said Jake.
"He didn't need rescuing!" yelled Nathan, "They asked him a few questions and were letting him go when you two clowns decided to play commando!"
"We also rescued the victim of an undeclared trade war kidnapping," said Sam.
"And now I have to worry that Korashi LTD will decide to undeclare a war against me."
"They won't do that, Captain," said Jake. "Korashi has SuSAG breathing down their neck and, quite frankly, one freelance trader is the least of their worries now."
"You should've contacted me."
"Shore leave is shore leave," said Sam. "We're off-duty and responsible to no one but ourselves. You don't want us manning the guns, it's your right to hire someone else. We'll manage."
"Who else is going to be dumb enough to hire two loose cannons like you? You've been bouncing around from one UFTA ship to another, always causing trouble. You'd been cooling your heels for months when I looked you up. No one would deal with you. The only reason I hired you on was because I still owe you one and because when you two are doing your jobs, you're both damn good at it. But this isn't the UFTA, where you can get easily transferred because your old captain was anxious to foist you off on someone else. This time, there's only the Option and if you screw it up, you're out. Is that clear?"
The twins nodded.
"Good. While you lot were being hosted by the local government, we got the ship fully loaded. Lot of cargo headed to Iilgan that was just sitting around waiting to be picked up. Got a full slate of passengers too. So get back on the ship and get ready for liftoff, we're leaving as soon as Lloyd gets our route planned."
***
Later, Nathan threw himself down in the co-pilot's chair muttering to himself.
"I see we got our little jailbirds back," said Ed.
"I don't really want to talk about it," growled Nathan, "Did our jump drives get their timers reset?"
"Yes. We're good for another three months or until we hit Pandora, whichever comes first."
"All right, let's get out of here."
Sunday, April 27, 2008
Shore Leave (pt. 2)
Lloyd was shoved down into a chair. The suits had split the two of them up, although he did see that she got taken to the room next to him. One of the guards stood over him.
"OK, wise guy," said the guard, "who are you?"
"I'm Lloyd Edgerson," answered Lloyd, "I'm the navigator off the trader My Other Option. I just got here earlier today."
"What were you doing with the girl?"
"Kissing her."
"You know her then?"
"Never seen her before in my life. I went down to the beach, took a nap and when I woke up, she was on top of me. Thought it might have been part of theresort's hospitality."
"Did she tell you anything?"
"She said her name was Leonia and that she was in trouble and begged me to save her."
"That's all?"
"That's it. If you've got any questions, you can send a reqeust to the ship. It'll confirm my identity."
"We'll see about that."
The guards left the room and closed the door. Llyod got up and tried the handle. As he expected, it was locked, but he was never one to dismiss a simple solution. The room itself looked pretty standard. Hard cement walls, a couple of small ceiling vents, but even standing on the room's table, he couldn't get up at it. No obvious sensors, but he just assumed he was being watched. So he gave a friendly wave to all four walls. Again, no point in not being polite. At the moment, his limited suite of options was exhausted and there's nothing left to do but just wait. Lloyd slumped back into his chair and hoped Sam or Jake could help sort things out. He also wondered just what it was they wantedLeonia for.
* * *
Sam was packing the gear, when the knock on the door came. There were only two other people on the island that she wanted to see and neither of them were likely to be knocking at the door. She tossed the last few things into her bag and quickly headed out onto the balcony of her cabin. She hoped that the person doing the knocking came straight from the underground facilities and didn't have people posted around the outside of her bungalow. She dashed down a paved walkway towards the beach and headed off towards the casino entrance.
On the way down, her wearable bleeped. Jake was calling in.
"What's up, big brother?" she asked.
"I didn't see exactly where they went, but I've got a pretty good idea of where he's at. Meet me at the casino bar."
"I thought you sobered up."
"I'm buying a few drinks to get some more information on the Security stations, the bartender has been surprisingly forthcoming. Cute too."
"I know your rugged good looks are irresistible, but remember we've got a job to do here."
"Don't worry sis. I'll see you in five."
"On my way."
* * *
The door opened and the guard returned. "Your story checks out, Mr. Edgerson. We were hoping to confirm with your fellow crew members, but the data off of your ship makes it a mere formality."
"Happy to be of help, sir."
"On behalf of the Diamond Sands Resort, I'd like to extend our deepest apologies. We'd like to give you these vouchers and a few casino chips for the trouble we've put you to."
"That's awfully nice of you. So, I'm free to go?"
"Right this way, Mr. Edgerson." The guard steped out the door into the hallway. Lloyd was about to follow when the guard started. "Freeze! Who are--"
His query was cut off. There was a series of sharp clicks and bullets ripped through the guard. Lloyd threw himself against the wall next to the door. From the hallway there was silence for a few moments, then a door was kicked open. Some shouts, a woman's scream, and more loud clicks. Bodies hit the floor.
Then he heard Sam's voice, "Where's Lloyd you bitch?"
"Sam! In here!" Lloyd called out. "Don't shoot me!"
A figure in black synth-skin poked her head around the corner. Lloyd assumed it was Sam from her general size and build. In her hands was a silenced SMG.
"What the hell are you doing?" asked Lloyd.
"Busting you out of here," snapped Sam, "can't get very far without our Navigator."
"You don't have to bust me out! They talked to Option and realized I was just a tourist. They were letting me go, Sam!"
"Shit!" hissed Sam.
"Come on, let's get out of here!" shouted Jake from down the hall.
"You better take this," said Sam shoving a pistol into Lloyd's hand.
"This is insane," muttered Lloyd as he followed Sam down the hall. They stopped when they reached Jake who was standing in the room next door with Leonia and a couple of dead guards. Leonia was scared out of her wits. She'd also been hit a couple of times.
"Please, take me with you! Get me out of here!", said Leonia.
"You've been nothing but trouble, lady," said Lloyd. "Why do they want you so badly?"
"I'm a sub-sector VP for SuSAG," said Leonia. "This place is owned by Korashi LTD. I was here on Fist to make a buyout offer. Korashi appeared to be eager to have us buy them out, but shortly after I got here, my bodygaurds were attacked. I fled down to the beach and that's where I ran into you. If you can get me out of here, I'll see to it that you all get a big reward."
"I've heard that before," grumbled Jake, "how do we know she's not lying?"
"We don't," said Lloyd, "but seeing as how you two have shot up the security staff, I guess we've got to get the hell out of here and taking the lady along is hardly going to make our position any better or worse. In fact, unless she's telling the truth, we're probably going to be looking at some serious jail time. So come with us Leonia."
Sam and Jake peeled back their synth-skin coating and now merely looked eccentric rather than sinister. The four of them made their way out of the security area and mingled back into the general flow of tourists. They emerged back onto the beach and hurried back to the landing pads.
Their aircar had a couple of guards standing next to it. "Down a level," whispered Jake. The four backtracked down to the lower landing pads. Sam hopped into an open air car and hooked her wearable to the control console. A few seconds later, the engines switched on and the car floated up. "Scootch over, I'll drive", said Jake. They all piled in and Jake went gliding away from the pad. After putting a little distance between themselves and the resort, he opened the throttle.
"OK, Leonia," said Lloyd, "where to?"
"Just give me a comm unit, I can contact my ship and let them know what happened," she said.
"Here," said Sam, "use mine. But I'm listening in. Any funny business and you're cut off."
Leonia glared at Sam, but took the comm unit. A few minutes of frantic conversation later, she handed back the comm unit. "They're coming out to meet us."
"I hope they get here quick," said Jake, "it looks like we've got company."
A flight of grav cars came buzzing up behind them. Three open-topped vehicles, each mounting a large gun in the back. Jake pushed the throttle forward and the engines began to whine as ran flat out. Their pursuers fell back only slightly before realizing what was up and raising their speed to match. The lead vehicle let off a long burst of machine gun fire. Jake threw the aircar into a slew and slid out of the way of the tracers. Now the flight took on a spiraling weave as Jake attempted to make the shot harder. A line of smoke shot off from one of the other pursuit vehicles and a missile came roaring after them. Jake pulled it level for a moment and then veered away at the last second. The missile's tracking was thrown off and it went spiraling away. But the maneuver had caused them to lose ground. The enemy was closing in on them. Soon they'd get a solid lock and there'd be nothing left but a fireball.
There was a bright flash and one of the grav cars turned to flaming pieces. There was a loud roar as fighters went streaking overhead. The other two pursuers suddenly turned tail, but it was too late. They were no match for the fighters who sliced among them and picked them off one after the other.
"It looks like they got here just in time," yelled Leonia over the roar of the air car's engines. "Those are SuSAG fighters. We should be safe now."
Safe was a relative term. As soon as they landed at the spaceport, they were swarmed by security and taken off to jail while their escapades were sorted out. There was a lot of legal wrangling and it took the better part of a week before they could be let out. In the end, the court had found that Korashi had started an undeclared trade war and that Leonia and her companions were cleared of any wrongdoing.
"I could use some new bodyguards," Leonia said as they left the courthouse. "You three seem pretty capable."
"Considering what happened to your last bodyguards, I think I'll pass," said Jake.
"I'll admit that I got into this job because I wanted some excitement and adventure," said Lloyd, "But this has been just a bit too exciting for me. I'm looking forward to a nice boring trading run."
"We'll see how boring it is out in the Borderlands," said Sam, "You might wish you were back here."
"If you're going into the Borderlands are you stopping at Pandora?" asked Leonia.
"In about a month," said Lloyd.
"Then take these passes," said Leonia, handing them each a smartcard. "They're VIP passes. It should make your shore leave there much more pleasant than it's been here on Fist. It's the least I could do for the people who saved my life. These should also help your captain when it comes time to load his ship up for the next run. He might be very interested in some pharmaceuticals we make out there."
"Thanks," said Lloyd.
"And when you get back," said Leonia, "look me up. Maybe you'll change your mind." She gave Lloyd a quick kiss. "Have a good trip, Lloyd."
"Yeah. You too, Leonia," said Lloyd.
Leonia stepped into her waiting aircar and was gone. Lloyd and the twins flagged down a taxi to take them back to the star port.
"Look at that," said Jake. "We do all the rescuing work and he gets the girl."
"I didn't get the girl," said Lloyd, "for some reason I thought it'd be more fun to hang out with you guys."
"Some fun," snorted Jake, "I spent all of shore leave in jail."
"Not the first time," said Sam.
"We've still got one more night," said Lloyd. What say we have a BBQ on the ship tonight. We'll set up a grill by the ship, have some burgers and beer. Enjoy a little tropical sun before we have to load up the ship and get out of here. Besides, we'll have to do something to appease the Captain. He couldn't read us the riot act on this one, but he wanted to. Plus, we can let him know that we've got a bit of leverage in Pandora. That's sure to soften him up."
"The kid's got a point," said Sam.
"Guess we'd better stop off for some steaks then," said Jake. He tapped the glass and let the driver know about the change of plans.
"OK, wise guy," said the guard, "who are you?"
"I'm Lloyd Edgerson," answered Lloyd, "I'm the navigator off the trader My Other Option. I just got here earlier today."
"What were you doing with the girl?"
"Kissing her."
"You know her then?"
"Never seen her before in my life. I went down to the beach, took a nap and when I woke up, she was on top of me. Thought it might have been part of theresort's hospitality."
"Did she tell you anything?"
"She said her name was Leonia and that she was in trouble and begged me to save her."
"That's all?"
"That's it. If you've got any questions, you can send a reqeust to the ship. It'll confirm my identity."
"We'll see about that."
The guards left the room and closed the door. Llyod got up and tried the handle. As he expected, it was locked, but he was never one to dismiss a simple solution. The room itself looked pretty standard. Hard cement walls, a couple of small ceiling vents, but even standing on the room's table, he couldn't get up at it. No obvious sensors, but he just assumed he was being watched. So he gave a friendly wave to all four walls. Again, no point in not being polite. At the moment, his limited suite of options was exhausted and there's nothing left to do but just wait. Lloyd slumped back into his chair and hoped Sam or Jake could help sort things out. He also wondered just what it was they wantedLeonia for.
* * *
Sam was packing the gear, when the knock on the door came. There were only two other people on the island that she wanted to see and neither of them were likely to be knocking at the door. She tossed the last few things into her bag and quickly headed out onto the balcony of her cabin. She hoped that the person doing the knocking came straight from the underground facilities and didn't have people posted around the outside of her bungalow. She dashed down a paved walkway towards the beach and headed off towards the casino entrance.
On the way down, her wearable bleeped. Jake was calling in.
"What's up, big brother?" she asked.
"I didn't see exactly where they went, but I've got a pretty good idea of where he's at. Meet me at the casino bar."
"I thought you sobered up."
"I'm buying a few drinks to get some more information on the Security stations, the bartender has been surprisingly forthcoming. Cute too."
"I know your rugged good looks are irresistible, but remember we've got a job to do here."
"Don't worry sis. I'll see you in five."
"On my way."
* * *
The door opened and the guard returned. "Your story checks out, Mr. Edgerson. We were hoping to confirm with your fellow crew members, but the data off of your ship makes it a mere formality."
"Happy to be of help, sir."
"On behalf of the Diamond Sands Resort, I'd like to extend our deepest apologies. We'd like to give you these vouchers and a few casino chips for the trouble we've put you to."
"That's awfully nice of you. So, I'm free to go?"
"Right this way, Mr. Edgerson." The guard steped out the door into the hallway. Lloyd was about to follow when the guard started. "Freeze! Who are--"
His query was cut off. There was a series of sharp clicks and bullets ripped through the guard. Lloyd threw himself against the wall next to the door. From the hallway there was silence for a few moments, then a door was kicked open. Some shouts, a woman's scream, and more loud clicks. Bodies hit the floor.
Then he heard Sam's voice, "Where's Lloyd you bitch?"
"Sam! In here!" Lloyd called out. "Don't shoot me!"
A figure in black synth-skin poked her head around the corner. Lloyd assumed it was Sam from her general size and build. In her hands was a silenced SMG.
"What the hell are you doing?" asked Lloyd.
"Busting you out of here," snapped Sam, "can't get very far without our Navigator."
"You don't have to bust me out! They talked to Option and realized I was just a tourist. They were letting me go, Sam!"
"Shit!" hissed Sam.
"Come on, let's get out of here!" shouted Jake from down the hall.
"You better take this," said Sam shoving a pistol into Lloyd's hand.
"This is insane," muttered Lloyd as he followed Sam down the hall. They stopped when they reached Jake who was standing in the room next door with Leonia and a couple of dead guards. Leonia was scared out of her wits. She'd also been hit a couple of times.
"Please, take me with you! Get me out of here!", said Leonia.
"You've been nothing but trouble, lady," said Lloyd. "Why do they want you so badly?"
"I'm a sub-sector VP for SuSAG," said Leonia. "This place is owned by Korashi LTD. I was here on Fist to make a buyout offer. Korashi appeared to be eager to have us buy them out, but shortly after I got here, my bodygaurds were attacked. I fled down to the beach and that's where I ran into you. If you can get me out of here, I'll see to it that you all get a big reward."
"I've heard that before," grumbled Jake, "how do we know she's not lying?"
"We don't," said Lloyd, "but seeing as how you two have shot up the security staff, I guess we've got to get the hell out of here and taking the lady along is hardly going to make our position any better or worse. In fact, unless she's telling the truth, we're probably going to be looking at some serious jail time. So come with us Leonia."
Sam and Jake peeled back their synth-skin coating and now merely looked eccentric rather than sinister. The four of them made their way out of the security area and mingled back into the general flow of tourists. They emerged back onto the beach and hurried back to the landing pads.
Their aircar had a couple of guards standing next to it. "Down a level," whispered Jake. The four backtracked down to the lower landing pads. Sam hopped into an open air car and hooked her wearable to the control console. A few seconds later, the engines switched on and the car floated up. "Scootch over, I'll drive", said Jake. They all piled in and Jake went gliding away from the pad. After putting a little distance between themselves and the resort, he opened the throttle.
"OK, Leonia," said Lloyd, "where to?"
"Just give me a comm unit, I can contact my ship and let them know what happened," she said.
"Here," said Sam, "use mine. But I'm listening in. Any funny business and you're cut off."
Leonia glared at Sam, but took the comm unit. A few minutes of frantic conversation later, she handed back the comm unit. "They're coming out to meet us."
"I hope they get here quick," said Jake, "it looks like we've got company."
A flight of grav cars came buzzing up behind them. Three open-topped vehicles, each mounting a large gun in the back. Jake pushed the throttle forward and the engines began to whine as ran flat out. Their pursuers fell back only slightly before realizing what was up and raising their speed to match. The lead vehicle let off a long burst of machine gun fire. Jake threw the aircar into a slew and slid out of the way of the tracers. Now the flight took on a spiraling weave as Jake attempted to make the shot harder. A line of smoke shot off from one of the other pursuit vehicles and a missile came roaring after them. Jake pulled it level for a moment and then veered away at the last second. The missile's tracking was thrown off and it went spiraling away. But the maneuver had caused them to lose ground. The enemy was closing in on them. Soon they'd get a solid lock and there'd be nothing left but a fireball.
There was a bright flash and one of the grav cars turned to flaming pieces. There was a loud roar as fighters went streaking overhead. The other two pursuers suddenly turned tail, but it was too late. They were no match for the fighters who sliced among them and picked them off one after the other.
"It looks like they got here just in time," yelled Leonia over the roar of the air car's engines. "Those are SuSAG fighters. We should be safe now."
Safe was a relative term. As soon as they landed at the spaceport, they were swarmed by security and taken off to jail while their escapades were sorted out. There was a lot of legal wrangling and it took the better part of a week before they could be let out. In the end, the court had found that Korashi had started an undeclared trade war and that Leonia and her companions were cleared of any wrongdoing.
"I could use some new bodyguards," Leonia said as they left the courthouse. "You three seem pretty capable."
"Considering what happened to your last bodyguards, I think I'll pass," said Jake.
"I'll admit that I got into this job because I wanted some excitement and adventure," said Lloyd, "But this has been just a bit too exciting for me. I'm looking forward to a nice boring trading run."
"We'll see how boring it is out in the Borderlands," said Sam, "You might wish you were back here."
"If you're going into the Borderlands are you stopping at Pandora?" asked Leonia.
"In about a month," said Lloyd.
"Then take these passes," said Leonia, handing them each a smartcard. "They're VIP passes. It should make your shore leave there much more pleasant than it's been here on Fist. It's the least I could do for the people who saved my life. These should also help your captain when it comes time to load his ship up for the next run. He might be very interested in some pharmaceuticals we make out there."
"Thanks," said Lloyd.
"And when you get back," said Leonia, "look me up. Maybe you'll change your mind." She gave Lloyd a quick kiss. "Have a good trip, Lloyd."
"Yeah. You too, Leonia," said Lloyd.
Leonia stepped into her waiting aircar and was gone. Lloyd and the twins flagged down a taxi to take them back to the star port.
"Look at that," said Jake. "We do all the rescuing work and he gets the girl."
"I didn't get the girl," said Lloyd, "for some reason I thought it'd be more fun to hang out with you guys."
"Some fun," snorted Jake, "I spent all of shore leave in jail."
"Not the first time," said Sam.
"We've still got one more night," said Lloyd. What say we have a BBQ on the ship tonight. We'll set up a grill by the ship, have some burgers and beer. Enjoy a little tropical sun before we have to load up the ship and get out of here. Besides, we'll have to do something to appease the Captain. He couldn't read us the riot act on this one, but he wanted to. Plus, we can let him know that we've got a bit of leverage in Pandora. That's sure to soften him up."
"The kid's got a point," said Sam.
"Guess we'd better stop off for some steaks then," said Jake. He tapped the glass and let the driver know about the change of plans.
Thursday, April 24, 2008
Shore Leave (pt. 1)
"In the end, they paid 60,000 credits for the wood, Captain Fletcher. Less my commission that comes to 48,000 credits to you."
"Excellent work. Thanks for your help."
"Not at all, Captain. You were most fortunate arriving when you did after the storm season. There's a strong demand for building products, especially such fine timber."
Nathan escorted the broker to the door of the ship, the bright, tropical light of Fist bulging into the dark interior. He was in high spirits. The wood had been incredibly lucrative. After all the expenses, he'd tripled his initial investment. The Option's first run had been in the black. And now the ship had the start of a financial cushion to fall back on if they needed it.
With the wood being offloaded at the Fist starport, there was no immediate work for the crew. Nathan returned to the bridge and made a brief announcement telling them that they were on shore leave for the next few days.
***
Sam and Jake were waiting by the cargo doors when Lloyd, the Navigator came out.
"C'mon, kid," said Sam, "let's hit the beaches!"
"Sounds like a plan," said Lloyd.
"I'm gonna have so many margaritas tonight, I won't be able to leave my chair until the next day," said Jake.
"Speak for yourself, bro. I'm in the mood to dance all night. Hey Lloyd," said Sam, "you a good dancer?"
"Think about your answer," growled Jake.
"Ah, well..." began Lloyd.
"Oh, don't worry about Jake," laughed Sam. "He's protective, but I can take care of myself. And I doubt a young guy like you can handle me."
"I'm thirty-five!" protested Lloyd.
The Hudson twins gave a short, loud laugh. "Just a baby," said Jake, "I bet I can drink you right under the table."
"It's a safer bet than trying to drink me under the table," said Sam. "Ah, remember when we were young and foolish?"
"Drinking, dancing, whatever you guys want to do, I'm game," said Sam, "but let's stop standing around on the tarmac and get to the beach."
"Ho! Looks like we'll see what the kid is made of," said Jake, "I got the car rented, let's go."
Twenty minutes later, they were skimming over the surface of the ocean, headed for the local beach resort recommended by the TAS representative at the starport. The resort was on one of the many small islands of the archipelago that made up the main landmass on Fist. The sea was a sparling blue-green and the resort itself was a series of small bungalows designed to blend in with the surrounding wilderness. They were connected via a system of underground tubes to the central hub and a number of underground entertainment facilities. It was possible to stoll in from the beach and down to a neon-lit nightclub/casino.
The trio checked into their rooms and met a short time later down on the beach. It was mid-afternoon and despite the bright sun, a fresh breeze kept things comfortable. Jake, true to his word, sat down in a lounge chair under an umbrella by the bar and a servitor was soon trundling over with his first drink.
"I'm going for a swim," said Sam, "care to join me, Lloyd?"
"Maybe in a bit," he answered, "I think your brother has the right idea here."
"Suit yourself. Just don't be too tipsy when it's time to dance, or I'll have to find someone else to play with."
She laughed and ran off into the waves. Lloyd stretched out on his chair and before he'd even gotten a few sips down, he was soon fast asleep.
He awoke to find a strange woman pressing herself against him and kissing him. He started in surprise, but then saw the fear in her eyes.
She pulled back a bit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, "please, just keep kissing me. I can't let them find me." She pressed her lips against Lloyd who was still too stunned to do anything. His eyes darted about and down the beach and saw a couple of large men wearing rather more clothing than called for on the beach. They appeared to be wearing uniforms and Lloyd wondered if they were resort security. Still, kissing a strange woman was sort of on his list of things to do during shore leave so he could hardly complain.
"Hey, Lloyd!" shouted Sam from the surf. "I'm still counting on you as a dancing partner tonight! Don't wear yourself out!"
Lloyd looked out towards the ocean at Sam and then up the beach. The two suits had gotten closer and they'd spotted the exchange. And Lloyd and the girl. They were quickly moving in. The girl atop Lloyd saw them coming and tensed, ready to spring away from the men, but another pair were closing in from the other side. Judging from the visible wearables, they were coordinating a wide search over the beach. There was nowhere to run and Llyod was pretty sure that these guys were also armed.
"What's your name?" asked Llyod.
"Leonia," the girl answered.
"Well Leonia, I'm Lloyd and it looks like you're in a bit of a fix. There's nowhere for you to run now that they'e spotted you. It's been a lot of fun, but now you may want to tell me why all these guys are looking for you."
"Help me. Help me get away from them and I promise you'll be richly rewarded."
"That's a rather bold claim from someone who--"
"All right. That's enough you lovebirds. Get up." The suits had closed in on the two of them.
"I'm sorry," said Lloyd, "and you gentlemen are?"
"We're security. We work for the casino here at the resort. You two are coming with us to answer a few questions."
"I don't understand," said Lloyd, "what are we accused of?"
"Don't get smart with me," snapped the guard. "You're coming with us. We have full jurisdiction on the island and are authorized to pull in anyone at anytime."
"So just question me here. It's a nice day and I'm happy to answer your questions."
"You'll be much more comfortable inside."
"I'm pretty comfortable right now."
The guard pulled aside his jacket to reveal a very compact SMG. "You're about to be a lot less comfortable if you keep giving us lip. So why don't the two of you just get up and come with us."
"I can hardly refuse such a charming offer," said Lloyd dryly. "Come on," he said to Leonia.
"They'll kill us!" she hissed.
"They don't seem too fussy about that," said Lloyd nodding towards the holster. "So we may as well enjoy a last stroll on the beach. Who knows, maybe it's a stunt by the casino and we're lucky winners or something."
"I'm afraid your luck has completely run out, pal," sneered the guard. "Let's go."
The pair went off with the guards. The entire time, Sam had been keeping an eye on the minor confrontation. She'd realized, too late, that the woman draped over Lloyd was the object of a great dael of interest. She was tempted to intervene in the conversation, but those suits meant business. She was rather alarmed when the group went off to one of the resort entrances and sprinted back up the beach to the bar where Jake was nursing the latest in a long line of drinks.
"Jake," said Sam, "the new guy just got himself into a world of hurt."
"Yeah, I saw," said Jake, "dumb rookie has no clue how to do shore leave properly. First you relax a little bit and then you get into a bar fight."
"Well, there was the girl."
"I saw that too! What, my sister isn't good enough for the guy?"
"Come one, we've got to go after them."
"We've got a little time yet. They want to question them."
"We don't know where they're going!"
"They said they were casino security. That's probably right. If they were going to take them off the island, they would've come back up this way to head to the landing pads."
"Wait. How do you know all this stuff? You're drunk off your ass."
Jake nodded to the small duffel bag he'd brought with him. "Got a camera in there hooked up to my wearables. Recorded the whole thing on zoom."
"You were spying on him!?"
"Wanted to make sure he didn't try to take advantage of my sister."
"You jerk!"
"Oh I don't know what you're complaining about. I had to take these stim pills and kill my lovely buzz," said Jake. Sam noticed that his stupor was rapidly disappearing.
"I'm so sorry to spoil your drunken voyeurism," said Sam. "Now, can we go bail out our navigator."
"Sure, I'll pad after them, you go back to the room and get our things together. I'll give you a call and let you know what's up when I find out a bit more. Be careful, they might have tied us to Lloyd and they could be coming after us next."
"You be careful too."
"I will," said Jake. He laughed, "First leg on a new ship and we're already saving the new guy's ass. Hell of a maiden voyage."
"Excellent work. Thanks for your help."
"Not at all, Captain. You were most fortunate arriving when you did after the storm season. There's a strong demand for building products, especially such fine timber."
Nathan escorted the broker to the door of the ship, the bright, tropical light of Fist bulging into the dark interior. He was in high spirits. The wood had been incredibly lucrative. After all the expenses, he'd tripled his initial investment. The Option's first run had been in the black. And now the ship had the start of a financial cushion to fall back on if they needed it.
With the wood being offloaded at the Fist starport, there was no immediate work for the crew. Nathan returned to the bridge and made a brief announcement telling them that they were on shore leave for the next few days.
***
Sam and Jake were waiting by the cargo doors when Lloyd, the Navigator came out.
"C'mon, kid," said Sam, "let's hit the beaches!"
"Sounds like a plan," said Lloyd.
"I'm gonna have so many margaritas tonight, I won't be able to leave my chair until the next day," said Jake.
"Speak for yourself, bro. I'm in the mood to dance all night. Hey Lloyd," said Sam, "you a good dancer?"
"Think about your answer," growled Jake.
"Ah, well..." began Lloyd.
"Oh, don't worry about Jake," laughed Sam. "He's protective, but I can take care of myself. And I doubt a young guy like you can handle me."
"I'm thirty-five!" protested Lloyd.
The Hudson twins gave a short, loud laugh. "Just a baby," said Jake, "I bet I can drink you right under the table."
"It's a safer bet than trying to drink me under the table," said Sam. "Ah, remember when we were young and foolish?"
"Drinking, dancing, whatever you guys want to do, I'm game," said Sam, "but let's stop standing around on the tarmac and get to the beach."
"Ho! Looks like we'll see what the kid is made of," said Jake, "I got the car rented, let's go."
Twenty minutes later, they were skimming over the surface of the ocean, headed for the local beach resort recommended by the TAS representative at the starport. The resort was on one of the many small islands of the archipelago that made up the main landmass on Fist. The sea was a sparling blue-green and the resort itself was a series of small bungalows designed to blend in with the surrounding wilderness. They were connected via a system of underground tubes to the central hub and a number of underground entertainment facilities. It was possible to stoll in from the beach and down to a neon-lit nightclub/casino.
The trio checked into their rooms and met a short time later down on the beach. It was mid-afternoon and despite the bright sun, a fresh breeze kept things comfortable. Jake, true to his word, sat down in a lounge chair under an umbrella by the bar and a servitor was soon trundling over with his first drink.
"I'm going for a swim," said Sam, "care to join me, Lloyd?"
"Maybe in a bit," he answered, "I think your brother has the right idea here."
"Suit yourself. Just don't be too tipsy when it's time to dance, or I'll have to find someone else to play with."
She laughed and ran off into the waves. Lloyd stretched out on his chair and before he'd even gotten a few sips down, he was soon fast asleep.
He awoke to find a strange woman pressing herself against him and kissing him. He started in surprise, but then saw the fear in her eyes.
She pulled back a bit. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she whispered, "please, just keep kissing me. I can't let them find me." She pressed her lips against Lloyd who was still too stunned to do anything. His eyes darted about and down the beach and saw a couple of large men wearing rather more clothing than called for on the beach. They appeared to be wearing uniforms and Lloyd wondered if they were resort security. Still, kissing a strange woman was sort of on his list of things to do during shore leave so he could hardly complain.
"Hey, Lloyd!" shouted Sam from the surf. "I'm still counting on you as a dancing partner tonight! Don't wear yourself out!"
Lloyd looked out towards the ocean at Sam and then up the beach. The two suits had gotten closer and they'd spotted the exchange. And Lloyd and the girl. They were quickly moving in. The girl atop Lloyd saw them coming and tensed, ready to spring away from the men, but another pair were closing in from the other side. Judging from the visible wearables, they were coordinating a wide search over the beach. There was nowhere to run and Llyod was pretty sure that these guys were also armed.
"What's your name?" asked Llyod.
"Leonia," the girl answered.
"Well Leonia, I'm Lloyd and it looks like you're in a bit of a fix. There's nowhere for you to run now that they'e spotted you. It's been a lot of fun, but now you may want to tell me why all these guys are looking for you."
"Help me. Help me get away from them and I promise you'll be richly rewarded."
"That's a rather bold claim from someone who--"
"All right. That's enough you lovebirds. Get up." The suits had closed in on the two of them.
"I'm sorry," said Lloyd, "and you gentlemen are?"
"We're security. We work for the casino here at the resort. You two are coming with us to answer a few questions."
"I don't understand," said Lloyd, "what are we accused of?"
"Don't get smart with me," snapped the guard. "You're coming with us. We have full jurisdiction on the island and are authorized to pull in anyone at anytime."
"So just question me here. It's a nice day and I'm happy to answer your questions."
"You'll be much more comfortable inside."
"I'm pretty comfortable right now."
The guard pulled aside his jacket to reveal a very compact SMG. "You're about to be a lot less comfortable if you keep giving us lip. So why don't the two of you just get up and come with us."
"I can hardly refuse such a charming offer," said Lloyd dryly. "Come on," he said to Leonia.
"They'll kill us!" she hissed.
"They don't seem too fussy about that," said Lloyd nodding towards the holster. "So we may as well enjoy a last stroll on the beach. Who knows, maybe it's a stunt by the casino and we're lucky winners or something."
"I'm afraid your luck has completely run out, pal," sneered the guard. "Let's go."
The pair went off with the guards. The entire time, Sam had been keeping an eye on the minor confrontation. She'd realized, too late, that the woman draped over Lloyd was the object of a great dael of interest. She was tempted to intervene in the conversation, but those suits meant business. She was rather alarmed when the group went off to one of the resort entrances and sprinted back up the beach to the bar where Jake was nursing the latest in a long line of drinks.
"Jake," said Sam, "the new guy just got himself into a world of hurt."
"Yeah, I saw," said Jake, "dumb rookie has no clue how to do shore leave properly. First you relax a little bit and then you get into a bar fight."
"Well, there was the girl."
"I saw that too! What, my sister isn't good enough for the guy?"
"Come one, we've got to go after them."
"We've got a little time yet. They want to question them."
"We don't know where they're going!"
"They said they were casino security. That's probably right. If they were going to take them off the island, they would've come back up this way to head to the landing pads."
"Wait. How do you know all this stuff? You're drunk off your ass."
Jake nodded to the small duffel bag he'd brought with him. "Got a camera in there hooked up to my wearables. Recorded the whole thing on zoom."
"You were spying on him!?"
"Wanted to make sure he didn't try to take advantage of my sister."
"You jerk!"
"Oh I don't know what you're complaining about. I had to take these stim pills and kill my lovely buzz," said Jake. Sam noticed that his stupor was rapidly disappearing.
"I'm so sorry to spoil your drunken voyeurism," said Sam. "Now, can we go bail out our navigator."
"Sure, I'll pad after them, you go back to the room and get our things together. I'll give you a call and let you know what's up when I find out a bit more. Be careful, they might have tied us to Lloyd and they could be coming after us next."
"You be careful too."
"I will," said Jake. He laughed, "First leg on a new ship and we're already saving the new guy's ass. Hell of a maiden voyage."
Tuesday, April 22, 2008
Welcome to Fist
Nathan and Ed resumed their seats at the helm. The hyperspace timer was nearing 0-hour.
"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Nathan, "this is the Captain speaking. We are about to drop out of hyperspace. Please stand by. All crew members should be at their duty stations. I will make another announcement once we've left hyperspace and confirmed our position."
Nathan thumbed the communication link, "Sam, Jake, let's not be too itchy on the triggers. Fist is pretty heavily patrolled so we should be safe."
"Will do, Cap'n," chirped Sam.
The bridge fell silent as the timer worked it's way down to zero. When it finally hit, there was a sudden drop in Nate's stomach. The multi-colored static of hyperspace dissolved into an inky blackness and then suddenly came alive with the light of stars, all dimmed by the presence of one particularly large, bright sun. They were back in normal space again.
Nathan had seen this star hundreds of times but it wasn't his call. "Lloyd, what do you think?"
"Everything checks out," answered the Navigator. "It's Fist all right. Looks like our maiden jump was a success."
"Attention all hands," said Nate, "this is your Captain speaking. We have successfully transitioned back to normal space and have confirmed our arrival. Welcome to Fist and the border of Imperial space."
Linda called up from the engine room, "Just so you know, Captain, everything here in the engine room looks good. I guess those repair techs at Eshadi really knew what they were doing."
"Good to know, Lin."
"Captain," said Ed. " Looks like we've got some company."
Scanners showed that a vessel was moving at high speed in their direction.
Their comm channels lit up as the transmission reached their ship. "Attention arriving vessel. This is the Imperial Navy Escort Cheetah Meat. We request that you heave to and present yourself for boarding and inspection."
The incoming transmission was bundled with a data squirt confirming the ship's identity. Being on the very edge of Imperium space, most ships got stopped and checked by the navy forces stationed in the area. So Nathan wasn't too concerned.
"Roger, that Cheetah Meat," said Ed, "This is My Other Option heaving to and standing by for boarding."
Nathan opened a channel to the gunners, "These guys are official so please try not to spook them, OK?"
"No worries," answered Jake.
A short time later, the escort's gig was docked to the Option and a small team of customs agents were striding through the airlock.
"Captain Fletcher?" asked the officer in front.
"That's me," answered Nathan.
"I am Lieutenant Shepperd," said the officer, "I'll be heading up the inspection. This shouldn't take too long, we'll have you on your way, shortly."
"Good to hear, Lieutenant, we're at your disposal."
The inspection was mostly a formality. Nathan and Shepperd spent most of the time reviewing the manifest while the other agents made quick visual inspections of the cargo hold.
"Very clever," said Shepperd, "using the collapsable tanks to increase your jump range. Headed out into the Borderlands I take it."
"That's right," said Nate, "It's been a few months since I was this way last, what's the news out there?"
"The tensions with the Zhents have everyone on edge. It's got some people thinking we're a little too distracted to worry about a little piracy here and there. It's not terrible, but we have noticed a slight uptick in trouble recently. If you stay near the main trade routes though, you should be fine. And it looks like you'll give the casual pirate a bloody nose."
"Good to know, thanks Lieutenant."
"No problem. Looks like everything is in order here, so we'll be on our way. Thanks for your cooperation, Captain."
"Happy to help, sir."
The customs party assembled at the airlock. Helpful was escorting one of the agents back from the passenger area where he'd interviewed some of the passengers.
"Pardon me, officer," said Helpful to the Lieutenant, "but the name of your ship, Cheetah Meat. That is...a human joke?"
"The rear admiral who named the ship was a Solomani, so I guess it is. I suppose it's funnier to an Aslan though."
"We name our Gazelle-class ships the same way. Although to us, it's not so much a joke as a happy synergy of languages."
"Hmm...I can see it might be at that. At any rate, it's a fine ship and we're happy to serve aboard her." Shepperd nodded. "Ma'am, Captain." He strode through the airlock and back to his boat.
"It's a joke?" asked Nathan.
"I will explain it later," said Helpful, "it's a long story."
"Ladies and Gentlemen," said Nathan, "this is the Captain speaking. We are about to drop out of hyperspace. Please stand by. All crew members should be at their duty stations. I will make another announcement once we've left hyperspace and confirmed our position."
Nathan thumbed the communication link, "Sam, Jake, let's not be too itchy on the triggers. Fist is pretty heavily patrolled so we should be safe."
"Will do, Cap'n," chirped Sam.
The bridge fell silent as the timer worked it's way down to zero. When it finally hit, there was a sudden drop in Nate's stomach. The multi-colored static of hyperspace dissolved into an inky blackness and then suddenly came alive with the light of stars, all dimmed by the presence of one particularly large, bright sun. They were back in normal space again.
Nathan had seen this star hundreds of times but it wasn't his call. "Lloyd, what do you think?"
"Everything checks out," answered the Navigator. "It's Fist all right. Looks like our maiden jump was a success."
"Attention all hands," said Nate, "this is your Captain speaking. We have successfully transitioned back to normal space and have confirmed our arrival. Welcome to Fist and the border of Imperial space."
Linda called up from the engine room, "Just so you know, Captain, everything here in the engine room looks good. I guess those repair techs at Eshadi really knew what they were doing."
"Good to know, Lin."
"Captain," said Ed. " Looks like we've got some company."
Scanners showed that a vessel was moving at high speed in their direction.
Their comm channels lit up as the transmission reached their ship. "Attention arriving vessel. This is the Imperial Navy Escort Cheetah Meat. We request that you heave to and present yourself for boarding and inspection."
The incoming transmission was bundled with a data squirt confirming the ship's identity. Being on the very edge of Imperium space, most ships got stopped and checked by the navy forces stationed in the area. So Nathan wasn't too concerned.
"Roger, that Cheetah Meat," said Ed, "This is My Other Option heaving to and standing by for boarding."
Nathan opened a channel to the gunners, "These guys are official so please try not to spook them, OK?"
"No worries," answered Jake.
A short time later, the escort's gig was docked to the Option and a small team of customs agents were striding through the airlock.
"Captain Fletcher?" asked the officer in front.
"That's me," answered Nathan.
"I am Lieutenant Shepperd," said the officer, "I'll be heading up the inspection. This shouldn't take too long, we'll have you on your way, shortly."
"Good to hear, Lieutenant, we're at your disposal."
The inspection was mostly a formality. Nathan and Shepperd spent most of the time reviewing the manifest while the other agents made quick visual inspections of the cargo hold.
"Very clever," said Shepperd, "using the collapsable tanks to increase your jump range. Headed out into the Borderlands I take it."
"That's right," said Nate, "It's been a few months since I was this way last, what's the news out there?"
"The tensions with the Zhents have everyone on edge. It's got some people thinking we're a little too distracted to worry about a little piracy here and there. It's not terrible, but we have noticed a slight uptick in trouble recently. If you stay near the main trade routes though, you should be fine. And it looks like you'll give the casual pirate a bloody nose."
"Good to know, thanks Lieutenant."
"No problem. Looks like everything is in order here, so we'll be on our way. Thanks for your cooperation, Captain."
"Happy to help, sir."
The customs party assembled at the airlock. Helpful was escorting one of the agents back from the passenger area where he'd interviewed some of the passengers.
"Pardon me, officer," said Helpful to the Lieutenant, "but the name of your ship, Cheetah Meat. That is...a human joke?"
"The rear admiral who named the ship was a Solomani, so I guess it is. I suppose it's funnier to an Aslan though."
"We name our Gazelle-class ships the same way. Although to us, it's not so much a joke as a happy synergy of languages."
"Hmm...I can see it might be at that. At any rate, it's a fine ship and we're happy to serve aboard her." Shepperd nodded. "Ma'am, Captain." He strode through the airlock and back to his boat.
"It's a joke?" asked Nathan.
"I will explain it later," said Helpful, "it's a long story."
Saturday, April 19, 2008
Girl Talk
Linda sat in the engine rooms keeping an idle eye on the systems. Now that the ship was in hyperspace, there really wasn’t a whole lot to worry about. The main power plant might fail, but frankly there was only so much she could do about it. Mostly, she was there to give everyone a few minutes’ warning before they all perished. Oh well, plenty of games on the system to pass the time.
The door to her small office hissed open and a slender, wiry feline alien entered the room. It was the ship’s steward. She’d been hired pretty much off the street by Nathan. Apparently she’d spent time working for some Aslan clan traders but had jumped at the chance to head back towards Aslan space. Nathan wasn’t sure if she was basically just working passage until they came close to Hierate space, but having a dedicated steward was important. You certainly wouldn’t trust the passengers' comfort to the Hudon twins. As a result, Linda hadn’t paid too much attention to the Aslan and was even now grasping for a name to put with the face.
“Engineer Stone?” asked the Aslan, “may I speak with you for a few moments?”
“Of course, “ said Linda. “And please, call me Linda. There’s no need for titles when it’s just us talking.”
“Very well, Linda. Please feel free to refer to me as Helpful.”
“Helpful?”
“It best describes my function. My formal name is far too long and complex for most humans to bother with. Helpful will be fine.”
“Very well, Helpful, what can I do for you.”
“Originally, I am from Hraduse. Although there’s a mixed population of Humans and Aslans on my homeworld, I’ve mostly dealt with members of my species and not yours. I’ve spent most of my career in Aslan conglomerates. As a Steward, I’ve been given a great deal of training in how to assist other species, but for the most part, I’ve never had to put it into practice. In this new assignment, I find I have some questions and I’m hoping that you can give me some insights.”
“I’ll do my best. What’s on your mind?”
“Captain Fletcher is male, correct?”
Linda was taken back a moment. “Yes. He’s a male.”
“That’s what I thought. But Captain Fletcher is not the pilot?”
“No, Mr. Collins is our pilot. I suppose it might be a little unusual, but Mr. Collins has an excellent piloting record, better than anyone else in the crew so Nathan hired him to handle that task. But Nathan is still the Captain.”
“He is also the medical officer?”
“That’s what he does best so that’s the job he’s taken on -– at least during the flight. Hopefully, there won’t be many medical emergencies while we’re aboard ship. The medical officer is generally needed at the start and end of the trip when we’re processing low passengers. Because Nathan is also the owner of the ship, he’s more than just the ship’s doctor. He’s responsible for the administration of the ship and having a relatively relaxed job means that he can get the paperwork done during the trip.”
“I see. Captain Fletcher owns the ship. So that makes sense. I understand that Humans see gender differently than we do, but it’s very different when you actually see the differences first hand.”
“Ah, I can see where that might be confusing. Humans don’t necessarily link gender with function. In fact some humans who feel the need and have the money can change their gender. It’s all a little complicated.”
“In my training, we learned that it was easier to treat all our human passengers as male, even if they acted in female ways. This seemed simple enough, and it has worked so far, but I’m concerned that I will fail to render good service as we move forward. So I am hoping to gain a better grasp of how human gender works.”
“It’s very fluid. I think your basic training will serve you well. The primary difference between males and females is which one of us gets pregnant. Beyond that, all bets are off. But as long as you treat all our passengers well, I suspect you’ll do fine.”
“Thank you, Linda. I appreciate your encouragement,” said Helpful, getting up to leave.
“Oh, Helpful,” said Linda.
“Yes?”
“Just so you’re clear. Captain Nathan is our ship’s doctor and he’s male. The pilot is male. The navigator is male. One of the gunners is male and the other is female.”
“One is female? Which one?”
“Sam.”
“But I thought Sam was--”
“It’s short for Samantha. Samantha is female.”
“I just thought he was a little short. Or young.”
“Sam is female. But she likes to blur the lines a lot.”
“I hope I remember. I don’t want to offend her.”
“That kind of mistake might tickle her pink.”
“Is that bad?”
“I mean, she’d think it was funny that she fooled you.”
“I see.”
“And, just to round out the crew, I am female.”
“Of course you are, you’re the engineer. That’s why I came to see you.”
“And, I believe you will be perceived by me and the rest of the crew as female.”
“Correct.”
“Does that help?”
“Quite a bit. Are there any additional resources I might consult?”
“Check with the ship’s library. Although, it’s pretty human-centric so it might make assumptions you aren’t aware of.”
“I will bear that in mind. Again, thank you, Linda. This discussion has been most...helpful.”
“Was that a joke?”
“Did you find it amusing?”
“A little bit.”
“Then it was a little joke,” said Helpful as she left the office.
The door to her small office hissed open and a slender, wiry feline alien entered the room. It was the ship’s steward. She’d been hired pretty much off the street by Nathan. Apparently she’d spent time working for some Aslan clan traders but had jumped at the chance to head back towards Aslan space. Nathan wasn’t sure if she was basically just working passage until they came close to Hierate space, but having a dedicated steward was important. You certainly wouldn’t trust the passengers' comfort to the Hudon twins. As a result, Linda hadn’t paid too much attention to the Aslan and was even now grasping for a name to put with the face.
“Engineer Stone?” asked the Aslan, “may I speak with you for a few moments?”
“Of course, “ said Linda. “And please, call me Linda. There’s no need for titles when it’s just us talking.”
“Very well, Linda. Please feel free to refer to me as Helpful.”
“Helpful?”
“It best describes my function. My formal name is far too long and complex for most humans to bother with. Helpful will be fine.”
“Very well, Helpful, what can I do for you.”
“Originally, I am from Hraduse. Although there’s a mixed population of Humans and Aslans on my homeworld, I’ve mostly dealt with members of my species and not yours. I’ve spent most of my career in Aslan conglomerates. As a Steward, I’ve been given a great deal of training in how to assist other species, but for the most part, I’ve never had to put it into practice. In this new assignment, I find I have some questions and I’m hoping that you can give me some insights.”
“I’ll do my best. What’s on your mind?”
“Captain Fletcher is male, correct?”
Linda was taken back a moment. “Yes. He’s a male.”
“That’s what I thought. But Captain Fletcher is not the pilot?”
“No, Mr. Collins is our pilot. I suppose it might be a little unusual, but Mr. Collins has an excellent piloting record, better than anyone else in the crew so Nathan hired him to handle that task. But Nathan is still the Captain.”
“He is also the medical officer?”
“That’s what he does best so that’s the job he’s taken on -– at least during the flight. Hopefully, there won’t be many medical emergencies while we’re aboard ship. The medical officer is generally needed at the start and end of the trip when we’re processing low passengers. Because Nathan is also the owner of the ship, he’s more than just the ship’s doctor. He’s responsible for the administration of the ship and having a relatively relaxed job means that he can get the paperwork done during the trip.”
“I see. Captain Fletcher owns the ship. So that makes sense. I understand that Humans see gender differently than we do, but it’s very different when you actually see the differences first hand.”
“Ah, I can see where that might be confusing. Humans don’t necessarily link gender with function. In fact some humans who feel the need and have the money can change their gender. It’s all a little complicated.”
“In my training, we learned that it was easier to treat all our human passengers as male, even if they acted in female ways. This seemed simple enough, and it has worked so far, but I’m concerned that I will fail to render good service as we move forward. So I am hoping to gain a better grasp of how human gender works.”
“It’s very fluid. I think your basic training will serve you well. The primary difference between males and females is which one of us gets pregnant. Beyond that, all bets are off. But as long as you treat all our passengers well, I suspect you’ll do fine.”
“Thank you, Linda. I appreciate your encouragement,” said Helpful, getting up to leave.
“Oh, Helpful,” said Linda.
“Yes?”
“Just so you’re clear. Captain Nathan is our ship’s doctor and he’s male. The pilot is male. The navigator is male. One of the gunners is male and the other is female.”
“One is female? Which one?”
“Sam.”
“But I thought Sam was--”
“It’s short for Samantha. Samantha is female.”
“I just thought he was a little short. Or young.”
“Sam is female. But she likes to blur the lines a lot.”
“I hope I remember. I don’t want to offend her.”
“That kind of mistake might tickle her pink.”
“Is that bad?”
“I mean, she’d think it was funny that she fooled you.”
“I see.”
“And, just to round out the crew, I am female.”
“Of course you are, you’re the engineer. That’s why I came to see you.”
“And, I believe you will be perceived by me and the rest of the crew as female.”
“Correct.”
“Does that help?”
“Quite a bit. Are there any additional resources I might consult?”
“Check with the ship’s library. Although, it’s pretty human-centric so it might make assumptions you aren’t aware of.”
“I will bear that in mind. Again, thank you, Linda. This discussion has been most...helpful.”
“Was that a joke?”
“Did you find it amusing?”
“A little bit.”
“Then it was a little joke,” said Helpful as she left the office.
Tuesday, April 15, 2008
That First Step's a Doozy
“Eshadi Control, this is My Other Option we are approaching jump point.”
“Roger that, Option. This is Eshadi Control signing off. Have a good trip.”
“Thanks, Control”.
Ed closed the connection and kept his eye on the screen showing their progress towards the jump point.
“Well, here comes the fun part,” said Nate, sitting in the co-pilot chair. “Now we find out a whole bunch of interesting things.”
“Like if the jump drives work?”
“Or work too well. We also learn if any of the passengers were planning on hijacking our maiden voyage. Or if there are pirates who want to take another crack at this ship.”
The two men sat quietly and considered the ship’s security systems and long-range sensors. Everything was a study in boredom and regularity.
“You wanna push the button?” asked Ed.
“Hell yeah,” answered Nate. “Been waiting to do that for months now.”
Normally, jumps were automated, but Ed activated the manual confirm sub-routine and routed it to Nathan’s screen.
“It’s funny, I thought I’d be in that chair,” said Nate.
“Second thoughts about taking me on?”
“Only in the abstract. You’re a great pilot and I’ve been so busy the past week getting everything ready, I’d be in terrible shape to fly this thing. Acting as the medical officer means I can relax for most of the trip.”
The men stared as the distance counter rolled down to zero indicating the ship had reached the jump point. Nathan took a deep breath and punched the indicator on his screen confirming jump.
There was a strange power-down sound in the ship followed by a shudder and a sharp crack and loud boom like a peal of thunder. The windows flashed white for a second, the windshields automatically darkening to shut out the intense light and then everything seemed to fall away in all directions for a moment. As Nathan felt himself sitting firmly in his seat again, the windows cleared to reveal a swirling, multi-colored static.
The Jump Timer flickered to 168 hours and began counting down.
“Attention all passengers and crew,” said Nathan over the ship’s intercom. “This is the ship’s captain speaking. We have just make the jump to hyperspace. We estimate arrival within the Fist system within 7 standard Imperial days. Passengers should feel free to move about the passenger areas. Crew members should take up their in-jump stations. That is all.”
Nathan opened another channel, “How are we looking, Lin?”
“Looking real good, Nate,” answered Linda. “The jump drives worked like a charm and their power-down readings are all in the green. The ship’s power plant took the spike without any trouble. Should be a nice, quiet ride to Fist.”
“Well,” said Nathan, “I think this calls for a small celebration. Get the crew together and we’ll have a small toast.”
“Sounds good, Nate,” said Linda.
Nathan flicked the comm off. “Nothing to do here, Ed. Let’s go back and join the others.”
“Sounds good, Captain,” said Ed.
The two men put their stations on standby, locked them down and left the bridge illuminated by hyperspace.
“Roger that, Option. This is Eshadi Control signing off. Have a good trip.”
“Thanks, Control”.
Ed closed the connection and kept his eye on the screen showing their progress towards the jump point.
“Well, here comes the fun part,” said Nate, sitting in the co-pilot chair. “Now we find out a whole bunch of interesting things.”
“Like if the jump drives work?”
“Or work too well. We also learn if any of the passengers were planning on hijacking our maiden voyage. Or if there are pirates who want to take another crack at this ship.”
The two men sat quietly and considered the ship’s security systems and long-range sensors. Everything was a study in boredom and regularity.
“You wanna push the button?” asked Ed.
“Hell yeah,” answered Nate. “Been waiting to do that for months now.”
Normally, jumps were automated, but Ed activated the manual confirm sub-routine and routed it to Nathan’s screen.
“It’s funny, I thought I’d be in that chair,” said Nate.
“Second thoughts about taking me on?”
“Only in the abstract. You’re a great pilot and I’ve been so busy the past week getting everything ready, I’d be in terrible shape to fly this thing. Acting as the medical officer means I can relax for most of the trip.”
The men stared as the distance counter rolled down to zero indicating the ship had reached the jump point. Nathan took a deep breath and punched the indicator on his screen confirming jump.
There was a strange power-down sound in the ship followed by a shudder and a sharp crack and loud boom like a peal of thunder. The windows flashed white for a second, the windshields automatically darkening to shut out the intense light and then everything seemed to fall away in all directions for a moment. As Nathan felt himself sitting firmly in his seat again, the windows cleared to reveal a swirling, multi-colored static.
The Jump Timer flickered to 168 hours and began counting down.
“Attention all passengers and crew,” said Nathan over the ship’s intercom. “This is the ship’s captain speaking. We have just make the jump to hyperspace. We estimate arrival within the Fist system within 7 standard Imperial days. Passengers should feel free to move about the passenger areas. Crew members should take up their in-jump stations. That is all.”
Nathan opened another channel, “How are we looking, Lin?”
“Looking real good, Nate,” answered Linda. “The jump drives worked like a charm and their power-down readings are all in the green. The ship’s power plant took the spike without any trouble. Should be a nice, quiet ride to Fist.”
“Well,” said Nathan, “I think this calls for a small celebration. Get the crew together and we’ll have a small toast.”
“Sounds good, Nate,” said Linda.
Nathan flicked the comm off. “Nothing to do here, Ed. Let’s go back and join the others.”
“Sounds good, Captain,” said Ed.
The two men put their stations on standby, locked them down and left the bridge illuminated by hyperspace.
Drumming up business
Nathan sighed as he reviewed the cargo contracts.
The passenger manifest was nearly full. Only a few middle- and low-passage berths were free. He didn't expect to get many more passengers. The number of people who needed a fast trip to Fist was fairly low. Most of the passengers were looking to get work on one of the trading lines that ran through there and didn't want to go the long way around. That market was pretty tapped out.
The more worrying problem was his cargo hold. He had several good sized loads, but he was still had about 30 tons worth of space sitting empty. Not an auspicious start. To make this work he had to keep his holds topped off on every trip or he'd be in the red before he left the Imperium. But the same factors that kept him from finding new passengers also kept him from finding any new cargoes. There just wasn't that much cargo that needed to get to Fist right away.
Nate pushed back from the desk and got to his feet. In times like this, a Captain had to drum up his own business. He grabbed his coat and headed down to the warehouse district.
Twenty minutes later, he was stomping through the cavernous warehouses, a local factor named Harl at his side.
"Could I interest you in some high-tech devices," Harl asked, "We've got this lot of handheld compcoms that might do very well. Fully compatible with Imperial datanets from Version 2 to 6."
"You've only got a few small lots here, I doubt it'd be worth my time."
"Well, Eshadi mostly handles bulk raw materials. If you're interested, we've got quite a bit of Eshadi marble. Looks good, sells well. Certainly have enough of it."
Nathan stopped to stare at the neatly cut slabs of stone that stretched down one bay of the warehouse. Fist was almost completely covered in water. The locals might like some stone here and there, but it wasn't needed in any quantity. He kept wandering through the warehouse.
Several bays down, he came across several large pallets holding thick, square-cut planks of dark wood. "I didn't know there was any timber industry here on Eshadi," mused Nathan.
"There isn't," said Harl, "this is Seynut Wood from Tobia. One of the local lords got it in his head to build a giant hunting lodge with the stuff and had it shipped in. Unfortunately, his ambition was greater than his financial acumen. He went bankrupt and fled before the cargo arrived. So it's been sitting here ever since."
"No buyers?"
"Seynut wood is good stuff. It's got a nice color and grain and it's pretty sturdy. But no one really wants a log cabin and there's plenty of other good building material around here. A few artisans picked up a few planks for carving or something, but it only took a few of these to supply them for years. Seriously, this stuff has been taking up space for way too long. I'd be happy to give you a discount if you'd get it off my hands."
The locals on Fist might not need a lot of stone, but they might really go for the wood.
"Does it float?"
"What?"
"The wood, does it float?"
"A little low in the water, unless you make a boat out of it, but yeah, it floats."
Nathan hadn't considered selling it as boat-building wood, but there might be a few takers in that line as well. The wood certainly seemed like something he could sell -- if he could get a good price on it.
"What are you asking for it?"
"Fire sale prices. I want it out of here. Lists for 1,000 credits a ton, I'm saying 500. Half off."
Nathan checked the invoice sheet on one of the pallets. This stuff had been sitting here for over six months. Harl would certainly be anxious to get his warehouse space back.
"How many tons do you have?"
"Just over 40."
"I'll take 30 off your hands at 200 per ton."
"You'll take it all for 200 a ton."
"I'd be moving three-quarters of it."
"You can have 30 tons for 400 but I can't go any lower than that."
"You'll be losing money every day it sits here."
"Letting you have it for 400 a ton is costing me dearly. 30 tons at 400 a ton and that's the offer."
Nathan's wearables worked it out for him. If he could sell it for 750 a ton, he'd break even. If he could get more for it, he'd actually turn a profit. It wasn't a bad bet even if he didn't have a hunch that it'd be an appealing commodity on Fist.
"Done," said Nathan, shaking hands with Harl and completing the deal. "Have it sent down Dock 15C for loading."
"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Fletcher."
"Likewise."
The passenger manifest was nearly full. Only a few middle- and low-passage berths were free. He didn't expect to get many more passengers. The number of people who needed a fast trip to Fist was fairly low. Most of the passengers were looking to get work on one of the trading lines that ran through there and didn't want to go the long way around. That market was pretty tapped out.
The more worrying problem was his cargo hold. He had several good sized loads, but he was still had about 30 tons worth of space sitting empty. Not an auspicious start. To make this work he had to keep his holds topped off on every trip or he'd be in the red before he left the Imperium. But the same factors that kept him from finding new passengers also kept him from finding any new cargoes. There just wasn't that much cargo that needed to get to Fist right away.
Nate pushed back from the desk and got to his feet. In times like this, a Captain had to drum up his own business. He grabbed his coat and headed down to the warehouse district.
Twenty minutes later, he was stomping through the cavernous warehouses, a local factor named Harl at his side.
"Could I interest you in some high-tech devices," Harl asked, "We've got this lot of handheld compcoms that might do very well. Fully compatible with Imperial datanets from Version 2 to 6."
"You've only got a few small lots here, I doubt it'd be worth my time."
"Well, Eshadi mostly handles bulk raw materials. If you're interested, we've got quite a bit of Eshadi marble. Looks good, sells well. Certainly have enough of it."
Nathan stopped to stare at the neatly cut slabs of stone that stretched down one bay of the warehouse. Fist was almost completely covered in water. The locals might like some stone here and there, but it wasn't needed in any quantity. He kept wandering through the warehouse.
Several bays down, he came across several large pallets holding thick, square-cut planks of dark wood. "I didn't know there was any timber industry here on Eshadi," mused Nathan.
"There isn't," said Harl, "this is Seynut Wood from Tobia. One of the local lords got it in his head to build a giant hunting lodge with the stuff and had it shipped in. Unfortunately, his ambition was greater than his financial acumen. He went bankrupt and fled before the cargo arrived. So it's been sitting here ever since."
"No buyers?"
"Seynut wood is good stuff. It's got a nice color and grain and it's pretty sturdy. But no one really wants a log cabin and there's plenty of other good building material around here. A few artisans picked up a few planks for carving or something, but it only took a few of these to supply them for years. Seriously, this stuff has been taking up space for way too long. I'd be happy to give you a discount if you'd get it off my hands."
The locals on Fist might not need a lot of stone, but they might really go for the wood.
"Does it float?"
"What?"
"The wood, does it float?"
"A little low in the water, unless you make a boat out of it, but yeah, it floats."
Nathan hadn't considered selling it as boat-building wood, but there might be a few takers in that line as well. The wood certainly seemed like something he could sell -- if he could get a good price on it.
"What are you asking for it?"
"Fire sale prices. I want it out of here. Lists for 1,000 credits a ton, I'm saying 500. Half off."
Nathan checked the invoice sheet on one of the pallets. This stuff had been sitting here for over six months. Harl would certainly be anxious to get his warehouse space back.
"How many tons do you have?"
"Just over 40."
"I'll take 30 off your hands at 200 per ton."
"You'll take it all for 200 a ton."
"I'd be moving three-quarters of it."
"You can have 30 tons for 400 but I can't go any lower than that."
"You'll be losing money every day it sits here."
"Letting you have it for 400 a ton is costing me dearly. 30 tons at 400 a ton and that's the offer."
Nathan's wearables worked it out for him. If he could sell it for 750 a ton, he'd break even. If he could get more for it, he'd actually turn a profit. It wasn't a bad bet even if he didn't have a hunch that it'd be an appealing commodity on Fist.
"Done," said Nathan, shaking hands with Harl and completing the deal. "Have it sent down Dock 15C for loading."
"Pleasure doing business with you Mr. Fletcher."
"Likewise."
Saturday, April 12, 2008
The Old Ball and Chain
Nathan's desk bleeped.
"Yes?"
"Mr. Fletcher? It's Ed Collins. I've been sent to talk to you about a job as a pilot on your ship."
And you're also here to keep tabs on me, thought Nathan sourly. He took a deep breath and said, "Please come on in Mr. Collins."
Nathan wasn't quite sure what to expect an Imperial spy to look like. He certainly didn't expect someone as plain as the man who walked through the door. But that's the whole point, isn't it, thought Nathan, they need to look like everyone else to blend in. Mr. Collins was a bit on the short side, a bit on the stout side and he apparently didn't care much about his balding head to do anything about it. He wore the slightly rumpled jumpsuit that was about as formal as you could expect from an ex-Scout or tramp Merchant.
"Mr. Collins, a pleasure to meet you," said Nathan, getting to his feet and extending his hand.
"Same here, Mr. Fletcher, said Collins, returning a solid grip. "Or is that Captain Fletcher?"
"Not yet," said Nathan, "my ship is largely in pieces all over the docking bay. It'll be a few more weeks before they patch everything up and I can officially claim the hat. Until then, I'm just a guy who holds the lease to a lot of spare parts."
"I'm sure everything will be put back together in one piece. The techs around here are really good and your analysis of the work to be done was pretty detailed."
"That was actually my Engineer, Linda Stone."
"Well, in any event, I'm sure your ship will be ready to go in no time at all. So. Let's have a frank discussion about my presence on your ship and how I can be of service to you."
"My understanding is that you're here to make sure I don't run off with the ship."
"But you're not going to run off with the ship, Mr. Fletcher. I've studied your records, I've seen your business plan. You're not here to con us out of a ship, you're here to make a boatload of cash. You want to make extended trading tours into the Borderlands, but you're going to come back. Besides, if you did want to steal the ship, where would you go? To the Hierate? To the League? To the Zhodani? Hardly. And you're certainly not going to turn pirate in this thing, it's a terrible design for a corsair. No, I have full confidence that you are an honest merchant who simply wants to run a small trading route."
"I'm glad the Imperium has such faith in me."
"We do, Mr. Fletcher. My principle job is to make sure that your ship returns to Imperium space after a profitable year away in space. This just happens to be exactly what you want. Your goal is my goal and I would hope that you could view me in that light: an enthusiastic crew member who wants to help make this a good run."
"Except that you can order me to drop everything and do what you say."
"Strictly speaking, yes. Yes I can. However, this isn't going to work if you feel that I'm an obstacle to be avoided or worked around or endured. The ship is your ship, Mr. Fletcher. You run it as you see fit."
"As long as I'm home before bedtime."
"Your original business plan suggested a route very much like the one we requested. You have always been planning to operate out of Imperium space and into the Borderlands. I'm hardly imposing some strange new route on you. When we're out there, you will be the man in charge and I will do my utmost to make sure that you get your ship home again."
"What about these side missions we might have to take on?"
"Most of the work is completely above-board and all of it will be handled by me. There's no need for a lot of cloak-and-dagger work. Just jump into the system. Count the ships that are there and then start trading. Most of our best intelligence is all open-source stuff anyway."
Nathan chewed his lip and pretended to review Ed's resume.
"Mr Fletcher, you offered your services to Imperial Intelligence in exchange for financial backing. We're happy to give that to you, the service you and your ship can provide is a worthwhile investment as far as we're concerned. I know that the Captain's Hat is important to you and that my presence and the drive timers must be a terrible imposition to you. But I also think you're smart enough to realize that this is a pretty sweet deal and that you can make a fair amount of money and help protect the place you where you like to spend it. Again, I urge you to consider me part of your crew because that's very much what I'd like to be. If you don't feel you can work with me, that's fine, you're free to reject me. They'll send someone else, of course, but I want to work with you and if we're not a good fit, then I don't want to sign on."
Nathan sighed, "You've made your point, Mr. Collins. Please tell me a little bit more about your qualifications as a pilot."
"Nearly 30 years experience in the Scout Service," said Ed. "The last 12 have been in this region of space and the stints before that were along the Spinward Marches. Like you, I'm very familiar with the Borderlands. I've even been across the old Sindal Empire and into League space. I also have some connections with minor Aslan clans. I can pilot anything from an X-boat to a small Patrol Cruiser. You can see my ratings on file along with Sim ratings and total flight time, which is more easily expressed in years than hours. I'm also handy with a toolbox."
"Well, I can't argue with these numbers," said Nathan, "I couldn't hope to find anyone more qualified." Nathan turned it over in his mind. The condition was he had to take someone and if he was truculent, they might send a bigger hard-ass to watch over him. Collins could at least give the illusion that Nathan was in full control and maybe that's what he'd have to live with for now.
"Well, Mr. Collins," said Nathan, "you've made your case. When I finally have a ship, I'll welcome you aboard. Until then, let's have a drink to seal the deal." Nathan made a quick pass and a servtor drone brought in some drinks.
"To our new partnership," said Nathan.
"To a profitable venture," answered Ed.
"One more thing," said Nathan after the celebratory swallow. "I assume that you want to be treated as just a pilot and that no one should know about your special status?"
"That would be for the best, yes", said Ed.
"I'd like to bend that rule a bit and inform Linda. She already knows that there will be a representative on-board, I feel like she should know it's you. She's an old friend and trusted partner so I'd like to let her know. Also, in the event that I'm not around and you need to reveal your status to the crew, she can back you up. She's the only other person who needs to know."
"Sounds good to me."
"Great. With you on-board as Pilot that's one less thing I have to worry about. I hope we can provide you with a very boring year away, Ed."
"Me too, Mr. Fletcher. Me too."
"Yes?"
"Mr. Fletcher? It's Ed Collins. I've been sent to talk to you about a job as a pilot on your ship."
And you're also here to keep tabs on me, thought Nathan sourly. He took a deep breath and said, "Please come on in Mr. Collins."
Nathan wasn't quite sure what to expect an Imperial spy to look like. He certainly didn't expect someone as plain as the man who walked through the door. But that's the whole point, isn't it, thought Nathan, they need to look like everyone else to blend in. Mr. Collins was a bit on the short side, a bit on the stout side and he apparently didn't care much about his balding head to do anything about it. He wore the slightly rumpled jumpsuit that was about as formal as you could expect from an ex-Scout or tramp Merchant.
"Mr. Collins, a pleasure to meet you," said Nathan, getting to his feet and extending his hand.
"Same here, Mr. Fletcher, said Collins, returning a solid grip. "Or is that Captain Fletcher?"
"Not yet," said Nathan, "my ship is largely in pieces all over the docking bay. It'll be a few more weeks before they patch everything up and I can officially claim the hat. Until then, I'm just a guy who holds the lease to a lot of spare parts."
"I'm sure everything will be put back together in one piece. The techs around here are really good and your analysis of the work to be done was pretty detailed."
"That was actually my Engineer, Linda Stone."
"Well, in any event, I'm sure your ship will be ready to go in no time at all. So. Let's have a frank discussion about my presence on your ship and how I can be of service to you."
"My understanding is that you're here to make sure I don't run off with the ship."
"But you're not going to run off with the ship, Mr. Fletcher. I've studied your records, I've seen your business plan. You're not here to con us out of a ship, you're here to make a boatload of cash. You want to make extended trading tours into the Borderlands, but you're going to come back. Besides, if you did want to steal the ship, where would you go? To the Hierate? To the League? To the Zhodani? Hardly. And you're certainly not going to turn pirate in this thing, it's a terrible design for a corsair. No, I have full confidence that you are an honest merchant who simply wants to run a small trading route."
"I'm glad the Imperium has such faith in me."
"We do, Mr. Fletcher. My principle job is to make sure that your ship returns to Imperium space after a profitable year away in space. This just happens to be exactly what you want. Your goal is my goal and I would hope that you could view me in that light: an enthusiastic crew member who wants to help make this a good run."
"Except that you can order me to drop everything and do what you say."
"Strictly speaking, yes. Yes I can. However, this isn't going to work if you feel that I'm an obstacle to be avoided or worked around or endured. The ship is your ship, Mr. Fletcher. You run it as you see fit."
"As long as I'm home before bedtime."
"Your original business plan suggested a route very much like the one we requested. You have always been planning to operate out of Imperium space and into the Borderlands. I'm hardly imposing some strange new route on you. When we're out there, you will be the man in charge and I will do my utmost to make sure that you get your ship home again."
"What about these side missions we might have to take on?"
"Most of the work is completely above-board and all of it will be handled by me. There's no need for a lot of cloak-and-dagger work. Just jump into the system. Count the ships that are there and then start trading. Most of our best intelligence is all open-source stuff anyway."
Nathan chewed his lip and pretended to review Ed's resume.
"Mr Fletcher, you offered your services to Imperial Intelligence in exchange for financial backing. We're happy to give that to you, the service you and your ship can provide is a worthwhile investment as far as we're concerned. I know that the Captain's Hat is important to you and that my presence and the drive timers must be a terrible imposition to you. But I also think you're smart enough to realize that this is a pretty sweet deal and that you can make a fair amount of money and help protect the place you where you like to spend it. Again, I urge you to consider me part of your crew because that's very much what I'd like to be. If you don't feel you can work with me, that's fine, you're free to reject me. They'll send someone else, of course, but I want to work with you and if we're not a good fit, then I don't want to sign on."
Nathan sighed, "You've made your point, Mr. Collins. Please tell me a little bit more about your qualifications as a pilot."
"Nearly 30 years experience in the Scout Service," said Ed. "The last 12 have been in this region of space and the stints before that were along the Spinward Marches. Like you, I'm very familiar with the Borderlands. I've even been across the old Sindal Empire and into League space. I also have some connections with minor Aslan clans. I can pilot anything from an X-boat to a small Patrol Cruiser. You can see my ratings on file along with Sim ratings and total flight time, which is more easily expressed in years than hours. I'm also handy with a toolbox."
"Well, I can't argue with these numbers," said Nathan, "I couldn't hope to find anyone more qualified." Nathan turned it over in his mind. The condition was he had to take someone and if he was truculent, they might send a bigger hard-ass to watch over him. Collins could at least give the illusion that Nathan was in full control and maybe that's what he'd have to live with for now.
"Well, Mr. Collins," said Nathan, "you've made your case. When I finally have a ship, I'll welcome you aboard. Until then, let's have a drink to seal the deal." Nathan made a quick pass and a servtor drone brought in some drinks.
"To our new partnership," said Nathan.
"To a profitable venture," answered Ed.
"One more thing," said Nathan after the celebratory swallow. "I assume that you want to be treated as just a pilot and that no one should know about your special status?"
"That would be for the best, yes", said Ed.
"I'd like to bend that rule a bit and inform Linda. She already knows that there will be a representative on-board, I feel like she should know it's you. She's an old friend and trusted partner so I'd like to let her know. Also, in the event that I'm not around and you need to reveal your status to the crew, she can back you up. She's the only other person who needs to know."
"Sounds good to me."
"Great. With you on-board as Pilot that's one less thing I have to worry about. I hope we can provide you with a very boring year away, Ed."
"Me too, Mr. Fletcher. Me too."
Thursday, April 10, 2008
Conditional Itinerary
Nate reviewed the itinerary that My Other Option was being instructed to follow and compared it to his star map of the area.
Shakedown Cruise:
Borderland Cluster 1:
Borderland Cluster 2:
Aslan Border and Fringe Return:
* Drive timers will be reset here
It wasn't a bad list. Figure each leg of the trip takes about 2 weeks and you were looking at just over a year all told to make a trading run through the area. Near the end it went a little further Spinward than he would've bothered with, but obviously it was part of Imperial Intelligence's effort to patrol the fringes. Although they were backing this effort, the Imperials weren't subsidizing this ship in the traditional sense. Pulling a profit was always going to be a bit tricky, but especially so on those final runs. The backers wanted their ship back so they'd probably cover losses, but he'd certainly be out on his ass if that happened.
Shakedown Cruise:
- Eshadi to Fist*
Borderland Cluster 1:
- Fist to Iilgan
- Iilgan to Wildeman
- Wildeman to Pandora*
- Pandora to Umemii
- Umemii to Cordan
- Cordan to Tanith
- Tanith to Arunisiir
- Arunisiir to Acrid*
Borderland Cluster 2:
- Acrid to Argona
- Argona to Exe
- Exe to Sperle
- Sperle to Falcon
- Falcon to Inurin
- Inurin to Tech-World*
Aslan Border and Fringe Return:
- Tech-World to Hilfer
- Hilfer to Pourne
- Pourne to Drinax
- Drinax to Asim
- Asim to Torpol
- Torpol to Clarke
- Clarke to Blue
- Blue to Exocet
- Exocet to Iilgan
- Iilgan to Fist*
* Drive timers will be reset here
It wasn't a bad list. Figure each leg of the trip takes about 2 weeks and you were looking at just over a year all told to make a trading run through the area. Near the end it went a little further Spinward than he would've bothered with, but obviously it was part of Imperial Intelligence's effort to patrol the fringes. Although they were backing this effort, the Imperials weren't subsidizing this ship in the traditional sense. Pulling a profit was always going to be a bit tricky, but especially so on those final runs. The backers wanted their ship back so they'd probably cover losses, but he'd certainly be out on his ass if that happened.
Wednesday, April 9, 2008
Sign on the dotted line
*beep-beep*
*beep-beep*
Nathan glanced at the icon in the corner of his vision. It was from Ms. Scolnik. Nathan's heart skipped a beat and he gave the mental command to pick up the call.
"Good afternoon, Maggie."
"Good afternoon, Nate," said Maggie. "I've got some good news and some bad news."
"I'd prefer the bad news first."
"There will be some conditions. You may not like them."
"Then I take it the good news is that those conditions are attached to the money you and your partners will front me."
"That's right. But you'd better come down to my office and we'll discuss the particulars. Can you get down here in a couple hours?"
"No problem, Maggie."
Maggie worked from a small compound that served both as workplace and home for the members of her financial corporation. On Eshadi, she was essentially a Countess, superior to and responsible for a collection of people under her. Her particular office was a small house. Cozy, almost primitive with fixed walls and surfaces. There were actual screens instead of holo displays, but Nathan's wearables clicked into the local network and found an solid datasphere underneath. A couple boxes of the local noodle dishes were set out and the ate while they talked.
"Your proposal, both parts of it, has generated a fair amount of interest," said Maggie, "You've clearly identified a under-served market and make an interesting proposition to get at it. There's a fair amount of uncertainty regarding the actual volume of Borderland trade, but we've found that increasing the regular amount of cargo space trading in a given area, increases the demand for that cargo space. On it's own, the prospect is tempting, but you're thinking pretty big, Nathan and we weren't quite ready to risk so much on the venture. We needed someone to help us offset the risks.
So I talked to some Imperial sources and they agreed that having a friendly pair of eyes out there might be worth a few megacredits. So they're kicking in some cash. But they're also adding some conditions."
Now we're at the heart of it, thought Nick. "Well, let's hear the conditions."
"We'll start with what the Imperials want," said Maggie. First off, they've determined your trade route. You'll be in the Borderlands for a full year. You'll visit each of the major star clusters, skirt the edge of Aslan space and then cross back into Tobia and home. At various points in your trip, you'll be required to make contact with Imperial Intelligence and pass on the data you've collected. They may also give you small missions from time to time. These won't be anything major. They'll always be along the lines of delivering something. You might possibly be asked to observe something on your travels but you won't be asked to do anything extreme.
The second major condition is one that comes from both the Imperials and me. We're not giving you the keys to a major starship, sending you beyond the Imperium without a bit insurance. First, we're assigning you a representative to your crew. They will serve as a regular crew member, but their primary job is to ensure that the ship returns back to us in one year's time. They'll get a special bonus when the ship comes back and we feel that this bonus, in conjunction with their loyalty to us means that they'll do a good job. We have several candidates in mind and are narrowing it down now. If there's a particular job on the ship that you need someone for, let us know, we might have a match."
"Do I have to run my decisions past this representative?"
"No. I want to be perfectly clear on this point. You are the man in charge. Our representative's only concern is to make sure that the ship returns to Imperial space after a year. He won't be watching over your shoulder or anything. If you deviate from your given trade route, however, you'd better have a real good reason or he will make his opinion known."
"There may be good reasons to deviate from the planned route."
"And our representative will take that into account. The person we hire will be able to follow the spirit of our instruction, not just the letter. If you have a good reason, he'll let you follow your own way. We don't think you're going to do anything stupid, Nate, but we'd be the stupid ones if we didn't insist on something like this. I'm sorry if it makes you feel chastised but if you want that ship that's the way it'll have to be."
"I understand."
"There's one final condition. The jump drives will be fitted with a timer and a burn-out switch. If the timer hits zero, it'll fry your drives and that will be the end of your trip. The timer will get reset periodically throughout your trip. The amount of time we allot will have a bit of wiggle room for those unforeseen problems that crop up in space travel and every time we do a reset on the engines, that wiggle room will be increased. But the general upshot is that if you stay away too long, you're going to get stuck."
"Huh. That's a pretty steep condition," said Nate.
"Again, it's not that we don't trust you, but if this thing gets hijacked we're out a significant investment with no way to recover it. We tried to make this as uncomplicated as possible and between our agent and the drive timers we calculate that we've got the right length of leash. Come back to us in a year and we'll gladly lengthen that leash. Come back to us with a healthy profit or some good work for the Imperium and we may let it drop altogether. I said this was the bad news."
"Well, I will say that the assigned route goes a little further afield than I was planning on, but it still looks good. I'm a little concerned about that drive timer. Exactly how much "wiggle room" do I get?"
"Initially, not more than a month or two. Assuming all goes well, the last reset at Tech-World will give you an extra six months over the expected five it will take you to complete the last leg of the journey. So there should be plenty of time for you to get home, or at least back to a one of the planets on the route that can handle a reset for you."
Nathan's wearables crunches the numbers from Maggie's network. The tolerances were tight but the indicators stayed in the green. "I think that's enough wiggle room for me to work with," he said. "I'm not happy with all these conditions, but I understand where you're coming from too. So if you're willing to provide the money under these conditions I'm happy to accept both."
"We have a deal then?"
"As soon as we shake on it, Maggie."
They shook hands and a series of contractual protocols were exchanged on their personal networks putting a series of complex financial operations in motion. A series of finalizing steps still needed to be reviewed and implemented, but deep in the computer networks of the Eshadi System Control, a salvaged Subsidized Trader was scheduled to be pulled from it's orbital berth and brought into the local shipyards for repair and refit.
*beep-beep*
Nathan glanced at the icon in the corner of his vision. It was from Ms. Scolnik. Nathan's heart skipped a beat and he gave the mental command to pick up the call.
"Good afternoon, Maggie."
"Good afternoon, Nate," said Maggie. "I've got some good news and some bad news."
"I'd prefer the bad news first."
"There will be some conditions. You may not like them."
"Then I take it the good news is that those conditions are attached to the money you and your partners will front me."
"That's right. But you'd better come down to my office and we'll discuss the particulars. Can you get down here in a couple hours?"
"No problem, Maggie."
Maggie worked from a small compound that served both as workplace and home for the members of her financial corporation. On Eshadi, she was essentially a Countess, superior to and responsible for a collection of people under her. Her particular office was a small house. Cozy, almost primitive with fixed walls and surfaces. There were actual screens instead of holo displays, but Nathan's wearables clicked into the local network and found an solid datasphere underneath. A couple boxes of the local noodle dishes were set out and the ate while they talked.
"Your proposal, both parts of it, has generated a fair amount of interest," said Maggie, "You've clearly identified a under-served market and make an interesting proposition to get at it. There's a fair amount of uncertainty regarding the actual volume of Borderland trade, but we've found that increasing the regular amount of cargo space trading in a given area, increases the demand for that cargo space. On it's own, the prospect is tempting, but you're thinking pretty big, Nathan and we weren't quite ready to risk so much on the venture. We needed someone to help us offset the risks.
So I talked to some Imperial sources and they agreed that having a friendly pair of eyes out there might be worth a few megacredits. So they're kicking in some cash. But they're also adding some conditions."
Now we're at the heart of it, thought Nick. "Well, let's hear the conditions."
"We'll start with what the Imperials want," said Maggie. First off, they've determined your trade route. You'll be in the Borderlands for a full year. You'll visit each of the major star clusters, skirt the edge of Aslan space and then cross back into Tobia and home. At various points in your trip, you'll be required to make contact with Imperial Intelligence and pass on the data you've collected. They may also give you small missions from time to time. These won't be anything major. They'll always be along the lines of delivering something. You might possibly be asked to observe something on your travels but you won't be asked to do anything extreme.
The second major condition is one that comes from both the Imperials and me. We're not giving you the keys to a major starship, sending you beyond the Imperium without a bit insurance. First, we're assigning you a representative to your crew. They will serve as a regular crew member, but their primary job is to ensure that the ship returns back to us in one year's time. They'll get a special bonus when the ship comes back and we feel that this bonus, in conjunction with their loyalty to us means that they'll do a good job. We have several candidates in mind and are narrowing it down now. If there's a particular job on the ship that you need someone for, let us know, we might have a match."
"Do I have to run my decisions past this representative?"
"No. I want to be perfectly clear on this point. You are the man in charge. Our representative's only concern is to make sure that the ship returns to Imperial space after a year. He won't be watching over your shoulder or anything. If you deviate from your given trade route, however, you'd better have a real good reason or he will make his opinion known."
"There may be good reasons to deviate from the planned route."
"And our representative will take that into account. The person we hire will be able to follow the spirit of our instruction, not just the letter. If you have a good reason, he'll let you follow your own way. We don't think you're going to do anything stupid, Nate, but we'd be the stupid ones if we didn't insist on something like this. I'm sorry if it makes you feel chastised but if you want that ship that's the way it'll have to be."
"I understand."
"There's one final condition. The jump drives will be fitted with a timer and a burn-out switch. If the timer hits zero, it'll fry your drives and that will be the end of your trip. The timer will get reset periodically throughout your trip. The amount of time we allot will have a bit of wiggle room for those unforeseen problems that crop up in space travel and every time we do a reset on the engines, that wiggle room will be increased. But the general upshot is that if you stay away too long, you're going to get stuck."
"Huh. That's a pretty steep condition," said Nate.
"Again, it's not that we don't trust you, but if this thing gets hijacked we're out a significant investment with no way to recover it. We tried to make this as uncomplicated as possible and between our agent and the drive timers we calculate that we've got the right length of leash. Come back to us in a year and we'll gladly lengthen that leash. Come back to us with a healthy profit or some good work for the Imperium and we may let it drop altogether. I said this was the bad news."
"Well, I will say that the assigned route goes a little further afield than I was planning on, but it still looks good. I'm a little concerned about that drive timer. Exactly how much "wiggle room" do I get?"
"Initially, not more than a month or two. Assuming all goes well, the last reset at Tech-World will give you an extra six months over the expected five it will take you to complete the last leg of the journey. So there should be plenty of time for you to get home, or at least back to a one of the planets on the route that can handle a reset for you."
Nathan's wearables crunches the numbers from Maggie's network. The tolerances were tight but the indicators stayed in the green. "I think that's enough wiggle room for me to work with," he said. "I'm not happy with all these conditions, but I understand where you're coming from too. So if you're willing to provide the money under these conditions I'm happy to accept both."
"We have a deal then?"
"As soon as we shake on it, Maggie."
They shook hands and a series of contractual protocols were exchanged on their personal networks putting a series of complex financial operations in motion. A series of finalizing steps still needed to be reviewed and implemented, but deep in the computer networks of the Eshadi System Control, a salvaged Subsidized Trader was scheduled to be pulled from it's orbital berth and brought into the local shipyards for repair and refit.
Thursday, April 3, 2008
Star-Charts
With the help of The Traveller Map, I've created an image of the basic area of operations for Nathan Fletcher and My Other Option.
You can see it here.
The area in the upper-right is the Imperium. The red lines around the hex edges forms the boundary. The area in the lower-left is the Aslan Hierate. The yellow lines around the hex edges form their border. In between them is the Boarderlands. The orange line running between the two empires is the Aslan-Imperial trade route. Because of the volume of traffic between the Imperium and the Hierate, the major route doesn't bother with local traffic (except for Tech-World and Pandora, but those items are usually headed to the Imperium anyway).
Because of the stellar gaps between the star clusters in the area, only long-haul subsidized liners (with Jump-3 capacity and lots of cargo room) can easily make the run. Far traders can operate in the area, but they sacrifice a lot of cargo room for Jump-2. Nathan's big idea is to modify a Subsidized Freighter (a Fat Trader) and provide local trading services to worlds within the Borderlands region.
You can see it here.
The area in the upper-right is the Imperium. The red lines around the hex edges forms the boundary. The area in the lower-left is the Aslan Hierate. The yellow lines around the hex edges form their border. In between them is the Boarderlands. The orange line running between the two empires is the Aslan-Imperial trade route. Because of the volume of traffic between the Imperium and the Hierate, the major route doesn't bother with local traffic (except for Tech-World and Pandora, but those items are usually headed to the Imperium anyway).
Because of the stellar gaps between the star clusters in the area, only long-haul subsidized liners (with Jump-3 capacity and lots of cargo room) can easily make the run. Far traders can operate in the area, but they sacrifice a lot of cargo room for Jump-2. Nathan's big idea is to modify a Subsidized Freighter (a Fat Trader) and provide local trading services to worlds within the Borderlands region.
Sunday, March 30, 2008
The numbers behind the man
Nathan Fletcher -- Our Captain and Hero:
Merchant 1st Officer 686CE9 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 46000
Administration-1, Bribery-1, Electronic-3, Gunnery-1,
Medical-2, Navigation-1, Pilot-1, Vacc Suit-2, Merchant-0
Blade, Low Passage x2
Linda Stone -- The Engineer:
Merchant 2nd Officer 685599 Age 34 4 Terms Cr 75000
Electronic-1, Engineering-2, Gunnery-1, Pilot-2, Steward-1, Merchant-0
Gun x2, Low Passage
Notes: In my game, I assume an average human lifespan that's easily twice as long as today's and plenty of anti-aging drugs are available meaning that aging rolls don't come up as soon as they normally would. I also give everyone a [Service]-0 skill which basically acts as a Jack-of-all-Trades skill for anything that you might expect an average member of a given service to know. So everyone with Army-0 can shoot a gun, for example. In this case, Merchant-0 basically means knowing how to use a VaccSuit, being able to make crash landings in ship boats, repair small technical problems and just generally be useful aboard ship and on shore leave. Although Nathan and Linda are both pretty damn competent, the [Service]-0 skill makes everyone not a complete doofus at things they really should know how to do (even if it's without any real skill).
Merchant 1st Officer 686CE9 Age 46 7 Terms Cr 46000
Administration-1, Bribery-1, Electronic-3, Gunnery-1,
Medical-2, Navigation-1, Pilot-1, Vacc Suit-2, Merchant-0
Blade, Low Passage x2
Linda Stone -- The Engineer:
Merchant 2nd Officer 685599 Age 34 4 Terms Cr 75000
Electronic-1, Engineering-2, Gunnery-1, Pilot-2, Steward-1, Merchant-0
Gun x2, Low Passage
Notes: In my game, I assume an average human lifespan that's easily twice as long as today's and plenty of anti-aging drugs are available meaning that aging rolls don't come up as soon as they normally would. I also give everyone a [Service]-0 skill which basically acts as a Jack-of-all-Trades skill for anything that you might expect an average member of a given service to know. So everyone with Army-0 can shoot a gun, for example. In this case, Merchant-0 basically means knowing how to use a VaccSuit, being able to make crash landings in ship boats, repair small technical problems and just generally be useful aboard ship and on shore leave. Although Nathan and Linda are both pretty damn competent, the [Service]-0 skill makes everyone not a complete doofus at things they really should know how to do (even if it's without any real skill).
Thursday, March 27, 2008
Home Inspection
“Well, Lin, what do you think?”
“I think it looks like a fat trader that got its fat ass shot off, Nate.”
“Well, that’s not too far off from the truth,” I said. I nosed the launch through the marked channels of the shipyard and did a slow fly-around of the trader. Normally, I’d let Linda drive, she’s a solid pilot, but it was her engineering experience I needed so she got to ride shotgun.
“The worst part is the rear end. The pirates shot it all to hell. But their gunners were good, they crippled the ship without blowing it wide open.”
“Just what I like, carefully spaced, clean-cut holes in my drive engines.”
“It just means that it’s going to be easier to pull it out and replace it. I think the basic framework is still sound and everything forward looks good.” I rolled the launch and pulled it over the top of the trader. “Here, take a look.”
I did a long slow orbit of the ship to give Lin a chance to see the whole thing from front to back.
“Well, you’re right about the structure,” she said reluctantly. “Everything forward of the engines looks to be in good shape. A couple of blaster gouges, but those will be easy to clean up. But I won’t know for sure how bad it is until we step inside.”
“So start suiting up, I’ll bring us in.”
A few moments later, I docked with the temporary door ring attached to the trader’s side. I went back to join Linda and get my own suit on. Linda Stone was a fellow UFTA employee who’d be let go in the recent downsizings. Aside from being a good pilot, she was a great engineer. Back when I was doing tech work, she’d bring in the electronics that needed fixing to me and we’d get them running again. Whatever skills I lacked in running a spaceship, she could definitely cover. As soon as I came up with this scheme, I knew that Lin had to be my engineer.
Fully suited up, we did our mutual check-overs and stepped through the airlock into the trader. These fat traders were all laid out the same way, so we went downstairs from the crew cabins and into the cavernous cargo hull. Our flashlights were lost along the length of the bay.
“So the shipyard lists this as the C. W. McCall. She got hit a couple of years ago and the backers decided to write it off. The bank’s been looking to get rid of it ever since then. Even after all the repair work, I feel like we can get this thing up and running without spending too much money.”
“We’re not spending any money,” Lin reminded me, “we’re hoping this angel investor of yours can convince the Imperium that we’d make a good spy ship.”
“It won’t be that bad. I’m just playing off all the war scare that’s going around. I seriously doubt the Zhodani will try and get a fleet all the way around the edge of the reach. We’ll make steady, boring, uninteresting reports back home and they’ll be happy. Besides, if they decide to pull the plug on us, then they’re stuck with the ship.”
We reached the far end of the deck. There were disturbing gaps where you could see the stars outside. For an old spacer like myself, you never wanted to see stars except though the windows. Anywhere else was bad, bad news. Lin had already peeled off to check over the engines.
“Yeah, these are pretty much shot. We can slot in some bigger jump drives, but I’ll have to widen the drive wells from here on back and that’ll cut into the cargo space,” said Lin.
“I accounted for that. I also realized while I was talking to Ms. Scolnik that rather than build a hard bulkhead for extra fuel, we could just install a collapsible tank. That’ll save us more cargo space when making smaller jumps. There’s plenty of spots where we can make little jump-1 trips, it’s just reaching those spots that requires the extra fuel.”
“All right, I think I’ve got a handle on things here. Let’s go back upstairs and check out the other drives.”
We made our way back upstairs and squeezed into the small power room at the back of the crew cabins. There were a few lights still working here and Lin hooked a small diagnostics pad in her suit up to the drives.
“Well, these guys didn’t suffer too badly,” she said, “That’s the good news there. The maneuver drives got shot up pretty hard too, but most of that damage is in the electronics, the drive itself appears to be pretty intact. Looks like you’ll get to do some work on your pet project after all.”
“I’ve got a hell of a lot of work to do and rewiring the engines is the least of it. I’ve already checked out the cabin, the controls and computer systems appear to be in good shape. Just dusty and without power. A good cleaning and they’ll be ready to go.”
I took a deep breath, “So. What’s your opinion, Lin? Can we get this bird fixed and flying?”
“All it’s going to take is money, Nate. Money and about 2-3 months to blow it all on this boondoggle. But it’ll fly. It’ll fly like a pig, but it’ll fly.”
“So are you in to be my engineer and 1st Officer?”
“I’ve got nothing better to do. This seems like fun.”
“Great. Thanks, Lin.”
“So, Nate, if you can get the money to buy this bucket, what are you going to call it?”
“No question there. I’m calling it My Other Option.”
“Heh, funny. Well here’s to our other option.”
“I think it looks like a fat trader that got its fat ass shot off, Nate.”
“Well, that’s not too far off from the truth,” I said. I nosed the launch through the marked channels of the shipyard and did a slow fly-around of the trader. Normally, I’d let Linda drive, she’s a solid pilot, but it was her engineering experience I needed so she got to ride shotgun.
“The worst part is the rear end. The pirates shot it all to hell. But their gunners were good, they crippled the ship without blowing it wide open.”
“Just what I like, carefully spaced, clean-cut holes in my drive engines.”
“It just means that it’s going to be easier to pull it out and replace it. I think the basic framework is still sound and everything forward looks good.” I rolled the launch and pulled it over the top of the trader. “Here, take a look.”
I did a long slow orbit of the ship to give Lin a chance to see the whole thing from front to back.
“Well, you’re right about the structure,” she said reluctantly. “Everything forward of the engines looks to be in good shape. A couple of blaster gouges, but those will be easy to clean up. But I won’t know for sure how bad it is until we step inside.”
“So start suiting up, I’ll bring us in.”
A few moments later, I docked with the temporary door ring attached to the trader’s side. I went back to join Linda and get my own suit on. Linda Stone was a fellow UFTA employee who’d be let go in the recent downsizings. Aside from being a good pilot, she was a great engineer. Back when I was doing tech work, she’d bring in the electronics that needed fixing to me and we’d get them running again. Whatever skills I lacked in running a spaceship, she could definitely cover. As soon as I came up with this scheme, I knew that Lin had to be my engineer.
Fully suited up, we did our mutual check-overs and stepped through the airlock into the trader. These fat traders were all laid out the same way, so we went downstairs from the crew cabins and into the cavernous cargo hull. Our flashlights were lost along the length of the bay.
“So the shipyard lists this as the C. W. McCall. She got hit a couple of years ago and the backers decided to write it off. The bank’s been looking to get rid of it ever since then. Even after all the repair work, I feel like we can get this thing up and running without spending too much money.”
“We’re not spending any money,” Lin reminded me, “we’re hoping this angel investor of yours can convince the Imperium that we’d make a good spy ship.”
“It won’t be that bad. I’m just playing off all the war scare that’s going around. I seriously doubt the Zhodani will try and get a fleet all the way around the edge of the reach. We’ll make steady, boring, uninteresting reports back home and they’ll be happy. Besides, if they decide to pull the plug on us, then they’re stuck with the ship.”
We reached the far end of the deck. There were disturbing gaps where you could see the stars outside. For an old spacer like myself, you never wanted to see stars except though the windows. Anywhere else was bad, bad news. Lin had already peeled off to check over the engines.
“Yeah, these are pretty much shot. We can slot in some bigger jump drives, but I’ll have to widen the drive wells from here on back and that’ll cut into the cargo space,” said Lin.
“I accounted for that. I also realized while I was talking to Ms. Scolnik that rather than build a hard bulkhead for extra fuel, we could just install a collapsible tank. That’ll save us more cargo space when making smaller jumps. There’s plenty of spots where we can make little jump-1 trips, it’s just reaching those spots that requires the extra fuel.”
“All right, I think I’ve got a handle on things here. Let’s go back upstairs and check out the other drives.”
We made our way back upstairs and squeezed into the small power room at the back of the crew cabins. There were a few lights still working here and Lin hooked a small diagnostics pad in her suit up to the drives.
“Well, these guys didn’t suffer too badly,” she said, “That’s the good news there. The maneuver drives got shot up pretty hard too, but most of that damage is in the electronics, the drive itself appears to be pretty intact. Looks like you’ll get to do some work on your pet project after all.”
“I’ve got a hell of a lot of work to do and rewiring the engines is the least of it. I’ve already checked out the cabin, the controls and computer systems appear to be in good shape. Just dusty and without power. A good cleaning and they’ll be ready to go.”
I took a deep breath, “So. What’s your opinion, Lin? Can we get this bird fixed and flying?”
“All it’s going to take is money, Nate. Money and about 2-3 months to blow it all on this boondoggle. But it’ll fly. It’ll fly like a pig, but it’ll fly.”
“So are you in to be my engineer and 1st Officer?”
“I’ve got nothing better to do. This seems like fun.”
“Great. Thanks, Lin.”
“So, Nate, if you can get the money to buy this bucket, what are you going to call it?”
“No question there. I’m calling it My Other Option.”
“Heh, funny. Well here’s to our other option.”
The Man with the Plan
"Mr. Fletcher?"
"Yes, are you Ms. Scolnik?"
"Please, call me Maggie."
"And feel free to call me Nathan."
"Great, shall we order then?"
The Grand Central was a small eatery located off the main arteries of the spaceport on Eshadi. Nothing too touristy, but not so deep into Startown that you felt the need to accessorize with a pistol. Still, the woman sitting across from me was really here for my pitch, not the salad she ordered. I had to make this good.
"So let me get right to the point," I said, "The Trojan Reach sector is one the main trade corridors between the Imperium and the Hierate and most of that trade moves out of the Tlaiowaha subsector, through the Borderland subsector and into the Imperium here at the Tobia subsector. Because of the lower stellar density in the Borderland subsector, most of this trade is carried out with Jump-3 liners.
These liners only make two stops in the Borderland subsector. They're not really there to trade with any of the worlds in the Borderland they're just passing through. The other worlds in the subsector have a little bit of trade between themselves and they can tap into the main trade route if they're lucky, but for the most part they are woefully underserved.
That's where I come in. My proposal is to convert a fat trader into a Jump-2 capable vessel. With that kind of range, I can easily make short, but profitable trading runs into the Borderlands from the Imperium. I can also facilitate trade between the two main starclusters of the Borderland (something else which the present trade routes don't really facilitate)."
"So you want me to buy you a starship is that it?"
"Well, not a new starship. A rather ungently used starship. It turns out that the local shipyard has a fat trader that got hit by pirates. During the ensuing battle, the jump drives were blown out (along with some other stuff). The pirates looted the ship and took off. The Tobia trade council decided to just write it off as a loss and it's been parked in the Eshadi system ever since. For my purposes, it's perfect, the ship has been heavily discounted because it's already been in service for a decade and it's been shot up. But since I'm replacing the jump drives anyway, it doesn't matter to me. The ship can be had for a song."
"But then you have install the new jump drive and repair the ship."
"I also have to install a new weapons suite. The old one is pretty much gone and I don't want to be the second captain to get jumped."
"A distinct possibility out beyond the border."
"I'll get to that in a bit. But let's talk about the raw numbers. I figure the ship itself can be purchased for 17.5 mega-credits. The repair and refit will come to 56 mega-credis for a grand total of 73.5 all told. That's over 25% less than a new trader right out of the shipyards (before you tack on any weapons) and even with the bigger fuel tanks, it still has over 3 times the cargo capacity of a far trader which are the only ships that even bother to take a chance out there.
So that's the initial investment. In one month, we figure that the expenses will run to just over 400k a month. If we're making full loads on every run and making two runs a month, we pull in about 470k. The practical numbers are all here in this data file, I'm sending it over to you now to take a look at."
Maggie glanced at her wrist display, "Very nice, but you have to be certain that you have a full cargo. There's not a whole lot of wriggle room here. You have to be 75% full at all times just to break even. That extra fuel really eats into your profit margin."
"I'm working on a variant where I use a collapsable fuel tank instead. This would allow me to make the big 2-parsec jumps to get into the Borderland (while still hauling a sizeable cargo, but gain increased cargo capacity and cut down on fuel costs when I'm operating in one of the starclusters. But for now, let's assume that we're going with my original idea and less available cargo. I still think that we can meet or beat our break-even numbers. It's true that most of the planets in the Borderland region have fairly low populations which aren't expecting a lot of traffic, but the region also contains a number of high-tech worlds and b carefully planning my routes, I can ensure that high-demand good are being shipped to eager recipients. When cargoes aren't full, it should be possible to indulge in some speculative trading that has a better than average chance of being profitable. There's almost always a high demand for medical supplies on any planet and with the SuSAG factories on Pandora, and my considerable medical expertise, I feel confident that I can always supplement my regular trading activity with some medical deliveries."
"Unless pirates wise up and hit your ship," said Maggie.
"A good deal of the funding is going towards outfitting the ship with a full weapons suite. Both hardpoints will mount double-turrets. The upper turret will sport two beam lasers for pinpoint strikes while the lower turret holds a missile rack and sandcaster for defense. Although we will be operating beyond the border where the assistance of friendly patrol craft may not always be handy, the distances involved and the generally poor pickings out in the Borderland suggest that actual pirate activity will be fairly low. Certainly we'll be ready to put up a fight and if we can make jump, our increased range makes it harder to track us to our destination."
"That may be so, but you've never actually had command of a ship, correct?"
"It's true that I've never worn the captain's hat, but I've done just about everything else on board a starship. I can act as pilot, navigator, medical officer and gunner. The only thing I can't do is fix the engines and I know just the guy to help me with that. I've spent over 25 years making the Imperial-Hierate run for the United Free Traders Association. I speak fluent Aslan and know the subsector like the back of my hand."
"Is that why UFTA let you go? You were too experienced?"
"Perhaps. UFTA has taken a beating from the Aslan concerns in the area and the recent border tensions with the Zhodani have caused them to re-evaluate the operations in the Spinward part of the Imperium. I'm not privy to all the details concerning their business operations. I just know that both UFTA and the Aslan only see the Borderland as a trade route rather than a profitable center of trade in its own right."
Maggie reviewed her wrist display one more time, "It still seems like an awfully big gamble for only average returns at best."
Looks like it was time to go for broke. "There's one other potential benefit to funding a long-haul fat trader in the Borderland," I said.
"What's that?"
"Well, those border tensions with the Zhodani are making things real hot this side of the Imperium. They might even boil over into another conflict. Even if it's just a few small border clashes, the Borderlands might form a flanking front. The Zhodani might act through one of their client states, such as the Floria League. The League has a number of long-haul merchant ships that occasionally enter the Borderland and might serve as a spy ship or the Zhodani might actually make a flanking maneuver into the Trojan Reach. Perhaps an aggressive Aslan clan will decide to take advantage of the tensions to expand their influence into the Borderland region. Certainly their trading companies have been aggressively pushing on UFTA. The Borderlands are the backdoor into the Imperium and at a time like this it'd be real smart to have a friendly pair of eyes keeping watch over things and reporting back on anything unusual."
"Mr. Fletcher, I'm just a venture capitalist, I hardly care about the foreign policy or Imperial security concerns."
"I'd certainly never suggest that you do, Ms. Scolnik. However, there are others who do and they might be willing to help, well, subsidize this subsidized trader. I'm sure a financier of your stature knows a lot of people who might take an interest in this venture. Unofficially of course."
"Of course. Well, I'll talk to a few people I don't officially know and see what they think about it."
"That's all I ask."
"Well, Nathan, it's been a very interesting lunch. Give me a few days and I'll see what we can do. In the meantime, I'd work on that collapsable fuel tank idea you mentioned earlier. Raw cargo capacity does a lot for the bottom line."
"I will. Thanks again."
"You're welcome. I'll be in touch."
As Maggie left, I let out a huge sigh. My contacts had been right. Maggie did have ties to Imperial Intelligence. Getting in bed with the government wasn't exactly my first choice, but they have deep pockets and a few extra reports home to a bureaucrat wasn't too high a price to pay for ship. I just hope they go for it.
"Yes, are you Ms. Scolnik?"
"Please, call me Maggie."
"And feel free to call me Nathan."
"Great, shall we order then?"
The Grand Central was a small eatery located off the main arteries of the spaceport on Eshadi. Nothing too touristy, but not so deep into Startown that you felt the need to accessorize with a pistol. Still, the woman sitting across from me was really here for my pitch, not the salad she ordered. I had to make this good.
"So let me get right to the point," I said, "The Trojan Reach sector is one the main trade corridors between the Imperium and the Hierate and most of that trade moves out of the Tlaiowaha subsector, through the Borderland subsector and into the Imperium here at the Tobia subsector. Because of the lower stellar density in the Borderland subsector, most of this trade is carried out with Jump-3 liners.
These liners only make two stops in the Borderland subsector. They're not really there to trade with any of the worlds in the Borderland they're just passing through. The other worlds in the subsector have a little bit of trade between themselves and they can tap into the main trade route if they're lucky, but for the most part they are woefully underserved.
That's where I come in. My proposal is to convert a fat trader into a Jump-2 capable vessel. With that kind of range, I can easily make short, but profitable trading runs into the Borderlands from the Imperium. I can also facilitate trade between the two main starclusters of the Borderland (something else which the present trade routes don't really facilitate)."
"So you want me to buy you a starship is that it?"
"Well, not a new starship. A rather ungently used starship. It turns out that the local shipyard has a fat trader that got hit by pirates. During the ensuing battle, the jump drives were blown out (along with some other stuff). The pirates looted the ship and took off. The Tobia trade council decided to just write it off as a loss and it's been parked in the Eshadi system ever since. For my purposes, it's perfect, the ship has been heavily discounted because it's already been in service for a decade and it's been shot up. But since I'm replacing the jump drives anyway, it doesn't matter to me. The ship can be had for a song."
"But then you have install the new jump drive and repair the ship."
"I also have to install a new weapons suite. The old one is pretty much gone and I don't want to be the second captain to get jumped."
"A distinct possibility out beyond the border."
"I'll get to that in a bit. But let's talk about the raw numbers. I figure the ship itself can be purchased for 17.5 mega-credits. The repair and refit will come to 56 mega-credis for a grand total of 73.5 all told. That's over 25% less than a new trader right out of the shipyards (before you tack on any weapons) and even with the bigger fuel tanks, it still has over 3 times the cargo capacity of a far trader which are the only ships that even bother to take a chance out there.
So that's the initial investment. In one month, we figure that the expenses will run to just over 400k a month. If we're making full loads on every run and making two runs a month, we pull in about 470k. The practical numbers are all here in this data file, I'm sending it over to you now to take a look at."
Maggie glanced at her wrist display, "Very nice, but you have to be certain that you have a full cargo. There's not a whole lot of wriggle room here. You have to be 75% full at all times just to break even. That extra fuel really eats into your profit margin."
"I'm working on a variant where I use a collapsable fuel tank instead. This would allow me to make the big 2-parsec jumps to get into the Borderland (while still hauling a sizeable cargo, but gain increased cargo capacity and cut down on fuel costs when I'm operating in one of the starclusters. But for now, let's assume that we're going with my original idea and less available cargo. I still think that we can meet or beat our break-even numbers. It's true that most of the planets in the Borderland region have fairly low populations which aren't expecting a lot of traffic, but the region also contains a number of high-tech worlds and b carefully planning my routes, I can ensure that high-demand good are being shipped to eager recipients. When cargoes aren't full, it should be possible to indulge in some speculative trading that has a better than average chance of being profitable. There's almost always a high demand for medical supplies on any planet and with the SuSAG factories on Pandora, and my considerable medical expertise, I feel confident that I can always supplement my regular trading activity with some medical deliveries."
"Unless pirates wise up and hit your ship," said Maggie.
"A good deal of the funding is going towards outfitting the ship with a full weapons suite. Both hardpoints will mount double-turrets. The upper turret will sport two beam lasers for pinpoint strikes while the lower turret holds a missile rack and sandcaster for defense. Although we will be operating beyond the border where the assistance of friendly patrol craft may not always be handy, the distances involved and the generally poor pickings out in the Borderland suggest that actual pirate activity will be fairly low. Certainly we'll be ready to put up a fight and if we can make jump, our increased range makes it harder to track us to our destination."
"That may be so, but you've never actually had command of a ship, correct?"
"It's true that I've never worn the captain's hat, but I've done just about everything else on board a starship. I can act as pilot, navigator, medical officer and gunner. The only thing I can't do is fix the engines and I know just the guy to help me with that. I've spent over 25 years making the Imperial-Hierate run for the United Free Traders Association. I speak fluent Aslan and know the subsector like the back of my hand."
"Is that why UFTA let you go? You were too experienced?"
"Perhaps. UFTA has taken a beating from the Aslan concerns in the area and the recent border tensions with the Zhodani have caused them to re-evaluate the operations in the Spinward part of the Imperium. I'm not privy to all the details concerning their business operations. I just know that both UFTA and the Aslan only see the Borderland as a trade route rather than a profitable center of trade in its own right."
Maggie reviewed her wrist display one more time, "It still seems like an awfully big gamble for only average returns at best."
Looks like it was time to go for broke. "There's one other potential benefit to funding a long-haul fat trader in the Borderland," I said.
"What's that?"
"Well, those border tensions with the Zhodani are making things real hot this side of the Imperium. They might even boil over into another conflict. Even if it's just a few small border clashes, the Borderlands might form a flanking front. The Zhodani might act through one of their client states, such as the Floria League. The League has a number of long-haul merchant ships that occasionally enter the Borderland and might serve as a spy ship or the Zhodani might actually make a flanking maneuver into the Trojan Reach. Perhaps an aggressive Aslan clan will decide to take advantage of the tensions to expand their influence into the Borderland region. Certainly their trading companies have been aggressively pushing on UFTA. The Borderlands are the backdoor into the Imperium and at a time like this it'd be real smart to have a friendly pair of eyes keeping watch over things and reporting back on anything unusual."
"Mr. Fletcher, I'm just a venture capitalist, I hardly care about the foreign policy or Imperial security concerns."
"I'd certainly never suggest that you do, Ms. Scolnik. However, there are others who do and they might be willing to help, well, subsidize this subsidized trader. I'm sure a financier of your stature knows a lot of people who might take an interest in this venture. Unofficially of course."
"Of course. Well, I'll talk to a few people I don't officially know and see what they think about it."
"That's all I ask."
"Well, Nathan, it's been a very interesting lunch. Give me a few days and I'll see what we can do. In the meantime, I'd work on that collapsable fuel tank idea you mentioned earlier. Raw cargo capacity does a lot for the bottom line."
"I will. Thanks again."
"You're welcome. I'll be in touch."
As Maggie left, I let out a huge sigh. My contacts had been right. Maggie did have ties to Imperial Intelligence. Getting in bed with the government wasn't exactly my first choice, but they have deep pockets and a few extra reports home to a bureaucrat wasn't too high a price to pay for ship. I just hope they go for it.
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
It takes money to make money
So much money.
I've got the basics of a plan. I've even got a line on the ship I want to outfit. But even given the condition she's in she's gonna cost a bundle before you add in the repair work and modifications. But my severance package mostly consisted of free coupons for luxurious cryo-tube transport anywhere in the reach. Even when cashed in they won't amount to much. Certainly they won't be enough to make a down payment. I need to figure out how to get some funding and to do that, I really need to sit down and thrash out this business plan I've been working on.
Besides, it'll be good for me to run the numbers. I'm pretty sure I can make this work, but I don't want to let my desire to wear the Captain's hat overcome good judgment. If I can't make ends meet, it's no good. Even my other option has other options.
I've got the basics of a plan. I've even got a line on the ship I want to outfit. But even given the condition she's in she's gonna cost a bundle before you add in the repair work and modifications. But my severance package mostly consisted of free coupons for luxurious cryo-tube transport anywhere in the reach. Even when cashed in they won't amount to much. Certainly they won't be enough to make a down payment. I need to figure out how to get some funding and to do that, I really need to sit down and thrash out this business plan I've been working on.
Besides, it'll be good for me to run the numbers. I'm pretty sure I can make this work, but I don't want to let my desire to wear the Captain's hat overcome good judgment. If I can't make ends meet, it's no good. Even my other option has other options.
Monday, March 24, 2008
Real-Time Traveller
No game player with commitments to school or work ever has enough gaming opportunities. Large blocks of free time are rare. Congenial opponents with matching schedules are even rarer, especially for campaigns, which require several players to show up regularly. Too many games end before they are properly resolved.
The boardless nature of Traveller, however, permits greater flexibility. With some small adjustments, a satisfying solitaire Traveller campaign can be conducted on the basis of a few minutes each day, by playing the game in "real-time" terms. Make one day in your life match one day in the game. After breaking down Traveller events into daily steps, most actions (a patron search, selling cargo) can be handled in the few minutes it takes to throw dice, consult a table, and note the result in a continuing log.
Such a procedure can do more than just add flavor to your coffee-break, however. Both referees and players can gain empathy with their characters by experiencing their lives in real-time terms; long days in hyperspace, the excitement of planetfall, anticipation of that next encounter with the unknown.
The real-time player soon learns that time hangs heavy while in vacuum. Maritime sailors took up scrimshaw and the hornpipe for good reason; space travellers will do the same. Some obvious shipboard pastimes include music, crafts, the martial arts, gambling, and language study (an as-yet untapped feature of the Traveller universe). Some of these mesh easily with existing skills (gambling, brawling), others imply new ones, perhaps minstrelsy as a career, or as a source of casual work. Something like twenty in-flight weeks of successful practice seems reasonable per level of expertise, success achieved by a die-roll measured against the UPP (throw dexterity or less for musical skill, for example, intelligence for languages, and so on). One might similarly generate existing skills on mustering out, one throw per service term.
Days spent planetside will be just as long, especially for the action-oriented ersonalities assumed in Traveller. In addition to self-improvement, characters without patrons will soon turn to gambling, money-making schemes and even crime to pass the time. One could even assume that a character without work will ship out after two to three weeks in a prospectless backwater; the real-time player will certainly be ready to leave. Obviously, the points made have implications for regular Traveller as well.
Real-time play also offers the opportunity for as much attention as the player wishes. There is ample time to generate planetary descriptions and maps of upcoming ports. Incorporate necessary bookkeeping into the game by drawing up landing papers, bills of lading, registration forms, and so on. These can lend flavor as well as provide clear records as playing aids. One can also fully develop non-player characters met as encounters, passengers, or crew.
Some attention to detail becomes necessary in real-time play, in particular the day-to-day sequence of starship operations and commerce. The following chart covers the typical two-week travel cycle, broken down into daily actions, and suggests activities for both passengers and crew:
Day 1: Pre-launch actions. Passenger boarding. Lift-off and begin flight to jump-point (this may take several days depending upon the system's geometry). Check for possible hi-jacking attempts.
Day 2-5: Jump to hyperspace (whatever day it occurs). Work out crew and passenger UPPs as needed, resolve any possible encounters and misjumps.
Day 6: Throw for self improvement.
Day 7: Seek possible patron among crew or passengers.
Day 8: Leave hyperspace. Resolve any ship encounters, hi-jack attempts, and so on.
Day 9: Flight to port (may take several days). Prepare landing papers.
Day 10-12: Land, debark, pay crew, maintenance work, and other costs. Sell cargo, deliver any messages. Ship's masters assess cargo awaiting shipment, contract as carriers and accept fees. Crew to starport bars, hotels, etc. Resolve possible encounters.
Day 13: Ship's masters seek passengers to next port of call. Load cargo. Pick up possible messages for delivery.
Day 14: Buy or generate navigation tapes. Buy and load fuel. Buy cargo for speculation, if any space left. Last visit to bars for possible encounters.
Day 1: Cycle repeats.
Real-time adaptation of Traveller works best where the player most carefully controls his own actions; a foot-loose wanderer, or the operator of a starship. It is less suitable for static situations, or those in which a character is merely a subordinate, for example, in a mercenary campaign played at an abstract level. Of course, such situations could also be broken down into daily events, if desired.
Sometime in the third week or so, the new real-time player may experience an overwhelming urge to accelerate the pace, perhaps to skip over five days in flight to reach the next port. Resist this temptation. You began this whole thing with the idea of experiencing real-time play, stick it out.
Real-time play may not be suitable for all Traveller players, but for the solitaire player, or the player with no time to engage in a regular campaign, it can provide an insight and appreciation of the size and complexity of the universe that few games can.
- Steven Sowards Journal of the Traveller Aid Society #13
The boardless nature of Traveller, however, permits greater flexibility. With some small adjustments, a satisfying solitaire Traveller campaign can be conducted on the basis of a few minutes each day, by playing the game in "real-time" terms. Make one day in your life match one day in the game. After breaking down Traveller events into daily steps, most actions (a patron search, selling cargo) can be handled in the few minutes it takes to throw dice, consult a table, and note the result in a continuing log.
Such a procedure can do more than just add flavor to your coffee-break, however. Both referees and players can gain empathy with their characters by experiencing their lives in real-time terms; long days in hyperspace, the excitement of planetfall, anticipation of that next encounter with the unknown.
The real-time player soon learns that time hangs heavy while in vacuum. Maritime sailors took up scrimshaw and the hornpipe for good reason; space travellers will do the same. Some obvious shipboard pastimes include music, crafts, the martial arts, gambling, and language study (an as-yet untapped feature of the Traveller universe). Some of these mesh easily with existing skills (gambling, brawling), others imply new ones, perhaps minstrelsy as a career, or as a source of casual work. Something like twenty in-flight weeks of successful practice seems reasonable per level of expertise, success achieved by a die-roll measured against the UPP (throw dexterity or less for musical skill, for example, intelligence for languages, and so on). One might similarly generate existing skills on mustering out, one throw per service term.
Days spent planetside will be just as long, especially for the action-oriented ersonalities assumed in Traveller. In addition to self-improvement, characters without patrons will soon turn to gambling, money-making schemes and even crime to pass the time. One could even assume that a character without work will ship out after two to three weeks in a prospectless backwater; the real-time player will certainly be ready to leave. Obviously, the points made have implications for regular Traveller as well.
Real-time play also offers the opportunity for as much attention as the player wishes. There is ample time to generate planetary descriptions and maps of upcoming ports. Incorporate necessary bookkeeping into the game by drawing up landing papers, bills of lading, registration forms, and so on. These can lend flavor as well as provide clear records as playing aids. One can also fully develop non-player characters met as encounters, passengers, or crew.
Some attention to detail becomes necessary in real-time play, in particular the day-to-day sequence of starship operations and commerce. The following chart covers the typical two-week travel cycle, broken down into daily actions, and suggests activities for both passengers and crew:
Day 1: Pre-launch actions. Passenger boarding. Lift-off and begin flight to jump-point (this may take several days depending upon the system's geometry). Check for possible hi-jacking attempts.
Day 2-5: Jump to hyperspace (whatever day it occurs). Work out crew and passenger UPPs as needed, resolve any possible encounters and misjumps.
Day 6: Throw for self improvement.
Day 7: Seek possible patron among crew or passengers.
Day 8: Leave hyperspace. Resolve any ship encounters, hi-jack attempts, and so on.
Day 9: Flight to port (may take several days). Prepare landing papers.
Day 10-12: Land, debark, pay crew, maintenance work, and other costs. Sell cargo, deliver any messages. Ship's masters assess cargo awaiting shipment, contract as carriers and accept fees. Crew to starport bars, hotels, etc. Resolve possible encounters.
Day 13: Ship's masters seek passengers to next port of call. Load cargo. Pick up possible messages for delivery.
Day 14: Buy or generate navigation tapes. Buy and load fuel. Buy cargo for speculation, if any space left. Last visit to bars for possible encounters.
Day 1: Cycle repeats.
Real-time adaptation of Traveller works best where the player most carefully controls his own actions; a foot-loose wanderer, or the operator of a starship. It is less suitable for static situations, or those in which a character is merely a subordinate, for example, in a mercenary campaign played at an abstract level. Of course, such situations could also be broken down into daily events, if desired.
Sometime in the third week or so, the new real-time player may experience an overwhelming urge to accelerate the pace, perhaps to skip over five days in flight to reach the next port. Resist this temptation. You began this whole thing with the idea of experiencing real-time play, stick it out.
Real-time play may not be suitable for all Traveller players, but for the solitaire player, or the player with no time to engage in a regular campaign, it can provide an insight and appreciation of the size and complexity of the universe that few games can.
- Steven Sowards Journal of the Traveller Aid Society #13
Sunday, March 23, 2008
So much for Company Loyalty
I spend nearly 30 years busting my hump for UFTA, working my way up the corporate ladder, and learning everything there is to know about running a trading vessel and now they've turned me loose. The company hasn't been doing well and I was part of their "restructuring" program. They think that by chopping runs and slicing staff they can save their way to profitability. Well the Aslan are going to eat their balance sheets for lunch. There's a ton of money to be made out there in the Reach, but the big boys only care about the mainline run from the Hierate to the Imperium.
I've always said that if I had my own ship I could show those bean counters in the office how much more they could be making off the Reach. Looks like now I've got my chance to prove it.
All I have to do now, is come up with the money for a starship...
I've always said that if I had my own ship I could show those bean counters in the office how much more they could be making off the Reach. Looks like now I've got my chance to prove it.
All I have to do now, is come up with the money for a starship...
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