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by The Empire of Tau » Fri Nov 29, 2019 6:24 pm
by Elerian » Sat Nov 30, 2019 2:19 pm
by Zjaum » Mon Dec 02, 2019 8:24 am
by The National Dominion of Hungary » Mon Dec 02, 2019 3:09 pm
Kyr Mirhorn Van
As they emerged from the limbo-levels between the vast dockspire and the station proper they finally made their way down winding streets, more people could be seen here but as they saw the heavily armed group they slunk away into side-streets or into their homes, giving them wide berth. Kyr soon realized that walking down the streets could be a very bad idea when a band of pissed-off pirates might post a bounty for any information on a heavily armed group of dunkidor skulking about with a bunch of frightened folk dressed in rags. They moved through the side-streets themselves now, occasionally stopping in a relatively secluded area so some of Kyr's crew could go ahead and check for any signs of them being double-crossed or of Zevo's men catching up to them. The coast seemed clear however and before long they finally found themselves as the address which they had been provided. It seemed like an ordinary lower-end habblock, run down and dirty with cracks in the walls and many windows closed and barred, illuminated sparsely by the light of adjacent windows and neon signs. She looks over the building several minutes before ordering two of her men to check it, soon one of them pops his head out of the door, sounding the all-clear. They enter and go up a flight of stairs, walls saturated by layers of graffiti. A pythean lay on a mat in the staircase, convulsing as the high of whatever narcotic he had taken was wearing off. Lights flickered as they entered the apartment they had been instructed too. There he was, the man who had hired them. Next to him were three humans, each holding an SMG. A precaution, their employer said matter-of-factly. One could never be to careful. He paid his complements to the dunkidor and said that while credits might not ease their pain after the loss of one of their comrades, it would help them hire crew and lay low until Zevo's rage subsides, or arms themselves and go after him if they so wished, it was not his problem now. As the slaves heard that they had been saved and the dunkidor mercenaries hired for money pooled by their families in order to free them, they went wild with joy. After Kyr was paid the 1000 credits promised and the mercenaries left. As they made their way back to the ship, each of them wondered what their chief would spend their newfound wealth on.
Skill-check: 41 - Small Failure. Something, or someone saw, perhaps...
Sam Bridge Iron
The drifting ship gleams with frost, it's windows are dark, it's engine and reactor are silent and cold. But the structural damage is limited and according to the sensors, the compartments around the ship starboard airlock should be sealed, pressurized and perfectly safe. Sam orders his pilot to close the distance to the ship and soon they extend a docking tunnel from their own airlock, as the blisters seal, the captain brings a handful of his crew, all armed to the airlock for the short walk over to the wreck. They walk slowly, fearful that the blister might detach and spill them silently into the void but upon seeing Sam's confidence they take heart and approach the drifting vessel's airlock. Setting down the tools they had brought with, Sam's crew begin the effort of prying it open. One of the men who had come with him all the way from Qharlaq finally manages to get the doors open accompanied by a hissing sound, the fanfare is short-lived however, the wreck's gentle movement rocks the docking tunnel and the man slips, falling toward the moving doors of the airlock. He cries out in pain, his hand and fingers mangled on a piece of moving, uncaring metal. The crew are immediately frightened, spacer-stories of evil spirits and ghosts aboard drifting wrecks abound the spacer's cantinas and ship-galleys all across the galaxy. They enter through the airlock into a dark, largely empty room and look around, near one of the walls is a sizable container which they haul aboard their ship at Sam's order but when he gathers them to go further they absolutely refuse to enter the "cursed ghost-ship" again, fearing they would end up like their crewmate, or worse. Sam relents and they cast of, leaving the wreck to drift. Instead they open the large container they had barely managed to get onto their freighter. As they open the container, they soon see a selection of obscenely large seeds while a musky scent fills the cargo hold. Sam had never seen anything like it, neither had any of his crew until the Zorvishi who recently joined strides up with a smile, picks one up and tries to take a bite, he drops it with pained yelp, blood on his teeth. He later explains that they looked very similar to a fruit from his home planet back in the Freeholds.
Skill-check: 36 - Failure. One crewmember slightly injured.
Skill check: 30 - Failure. Failed identification - gain Container of Strange Seeds (15 cargo units)
Leon Tchaikovsky
As the withering hail of fire let up for a bare few seconds, letting the laser blasters bolted to the ancient sentinels cool down after the intense volleys of lasblasts they had directed toward the intruders, T'Kess popped out of cover with a determined fury that seemed far from the whimpering of her cowering assistant, the Ellirean's counter-fire mostly went wide, she was no soldier after all and the stress was making her jittery. The old warship that was Admiral Tchaikovsky however, rose from behind the cover confidently and his mind reached out to the beyond. Time passed differently there, only a millisecond or two had passed in realspace but in him mind, Leon had been minutes adrift in a strange, colorful sea sailing through the air of a starry void. He felt the gaze of unknowable intelligences and there, with one of those gazes, he felt a great warmth and strength suddenly bloom within him. He smiled and thanked it. Thrown back into realspace Leon found a loud war-cry spilling from his lips. Strange, colorful crackles lit up around him and a white light shone brightly in his clenched fist as well as in his eyes. With a mighty push he unleashed the paracasual forces at the combat robots that assailed them, or to be exact at a crack in the wall. Something had bestowed his with great power for the roof buckled and collapsed, great chunks of rock and dust fell and buried the ancient automatons under a heap of debris as a great gust of dust swallowed Leon and filled his mouth and nose, which he then expelled with a violent burst of cough. As the strange forces left him, he felt a great exhaustion wash over him and he sank to the ground with a terrible headache. He saw T'Kess rush over to him and look, her hands came away bloody as he passed him a bottle of water which he drank from greedily, he was bleeding from his nose and ears. Two such displays of paracasual might in such short a time take their toll. But they were safe now, and the road to the lab was open...
Skill-check: 92 - Great Success! Psionic Over-straining, -1.5 Heath, now 8.5.
T'kra Tyawerai
T'kra pulled up her hand-terminal and there was a message from Roai, she had contacted the delivery's recipient and gotten the street and address where they were to make the exchange, it was straightforward, easy even T'kra thought to her self as she wheeled her little cart down the street again. It wasn't the most high-paying job she had ever done but then again, the risks seemed minimal and they needed some quick cash to get themselves equipped and ready for more demanding tasks, either on the station or in the surrounding stars. As the neared the drop off point, she could once again hear the ringtone of her handterminal. As she answered a nervous Kevu spoke back. She had been checking out the surrounding blocks and there was a group of suspicious individuals seemingly skulking about near where Roai was waiting with two Fisher Kings for T'kra to arrive with the shipment. Roai didn't quite manage get a good look at them without getting spotted but there seemed to be four, maybe five of them? A few looked like they were hiding guns under baggy clothes and while she couldn't see any tattoos or other identifiers, she suspected that maybe the Skulle Levies found out about the shipment... should they warn Roai and the Fishers? But then if they were Levies, they would know they had been detected, maybe T'kra and Kevu could ambush them? But then again, what if they were just locals...
Skill-check: 59 - Small Success.
by Ralnis » Wed Dec 04, 2019 9:14 am
by The Empire of Tau » Thu Dec 05, 2019 11:54 pm
by Elerian » Fri Dec 06, 2019 1:22 am
by Zjaum » Fri Dec 06, 2019 1:52 pm
by The National Dominion of Hungary » Sat Dec 07, 2019 5:06 am
Kyr Mirhorn Van
Kyr and the Dunkidor set about their work, first order of business was to get Zax to a clinic where he could be treated. It took some time, the ducks never walked alone and made all efforts they could at remaining inconspicuous, the pirates they had stolen from might have eyes in many places across the station after all and Kyr was not willing to gamble when their numbers were so low. They swung by a clinic in the Gozu district relatively close to the Blind Eye, Zax´s favorite cantina on the station. Managed by an eccentric Pythean doctor who had for some unfathomable reason come here to work on the station, whenever questioned about his decision he simply always said he "liked the challenge". To help the greatest possible number of people taking into account the limited resources at his disposal. The doctor's staff were used to seeing injuries like this, this was Noctis after all and the best thing about this clinic? It was cheap, no more than 140 credits to pay for the treatment and medication required. At the same time Kyr went down to Thenis, a part of the station largely inhabited by individuals from a wide variety of the Galaxy's avian species, including many Dunkidor. She had posted notices on many of the station's nets and now she went to post them on the public holoboards and bar newsboards, promising young adventurous Dunkidor a place in a rising clan, a life of excitement and travel across the stars, something that very well might catch the eye and interest of listless local Dunkidor youths. In between her trips posting notices and swinging by weapons stores, she got to thinking of her past on this station. She was glad at their recent success despite the loss of one of their number and in the evenings, the reflected on her last ten years, realizing how far she had come and much she had learned. Soon, her new recruits would arrive for interviews and indeed they did. Many were clanless and born here on the station, young and fresh-feathered these ducks made up for their lack in experience with an almost contagious enthusiasm, hearing the stories of parents and grandparents they longed for a clan to call their own. Kyr had to turn many down, those who were simply too weak, too young or had no useful skill or education. In the end, she had sent away a dozen but five prospecting members of Clan Van remained, each asking 25 credits as a signing fee.
Level Up! Pick one 5-point Trait. Gain 5 investable Skill Points!
You think back, and consider what you learned from a scar on your body.
Trait - An attempt on your life: There is a scar left by a gunshot wound next to your heart, you've learned since then to be more judicious in your choice of friends - Gain 3 Brawn and 2 Guile.
Trait - A maintenance accident: As a young, newly minted star-captain you helped make routine repairs when suddenly, a flash, a jet of scalding steam. You spent a week in a hospital bed, trapped in boiling dreams - Gain 3 Brain and 2 Heart.
Sam Bridge Iron
The human crewmate who had come with Sam ever since the slums of the great city-world spent the remaining days of the trip in the medical bay. It was a trip without any major hiccups and the crew soon started spinning tall tales of their encounter with the ghost ship which they would no doubt embellish further when they told them to any and all people who happened to pass close enough when they went drinking at the nearest cantina or club. What irked Sam was the seeds, when they set down they would have to find some kind of botanist or xenobiologist in order to actually find out what those things were, for now. He had ordered the container sealed, who knew what kind of spores or seeds those things might release after all. When the finally set down at Ylem's main spaceport they emerged into the ravaged streets once more, the city of Discovery was still in a poor state, not much had changed and it would probably take quite a while longer before it did. Security at the airport was tight and they had to submit to inspection, luckily, as they carried no contraband Sam and his crew were soon free to leave the ship and conduct their business. Sam then contacted the materials department of the planetary militia, it took a few days but then a human man in a simple uniform finally arrived. Sam and his crew welcomed him aboard and showed him into the cargo hold, after which they opened the crate of cells. The officer looked them over, asking the standard questions and finally offered Sam 1150 Credits for the crate, he then gave Sam his contact info and told him to call when he makes a decision. Sam could take it, or he could perhaps try and get a better price from the officer. In the meantime, his crew had been out canvassing the city and the network for a local xenobiologist. It was hard but they heard a rumor of a skilled biologist from another system which had been raided by the pirate armada, like many other people in the cluster, he had fled to Ylem and was rumored to stay in one of the refugee camps, they had the coordinates.
Injured crewman is healed - Med-bay needs to be re-stocked with supplies before being used again, recharge cost - 65 Credits.
Leon Tchaikovsky
Stumbling to his feet with T'Kess´ help, Leon set about exploring his surroundings, his heart was pounding, as was his head but he had no interest in showing weakness. Instead he began to look through the small metal containers, similar to silver pitchers with Rakodani decorations similar to the geometric patterns painted on the smooth stone walls. From most came only the terrible smell left behind by drinks evaporated and gone bad long, long ago leaving only dark stains. All while T'Kess and her assistant were hard at work trying to open the doors, Leon searched around for anything of value. He quickly realized that he wouldn't find anything in those pitchers but then, his foot caught on something. Stick out from under one of the cabinets that lined the walls was a small, dusty box. Leon picked it up and blew away the thick layer of ancient dust which prompted him to sneeze loudly. As he opened the box, he found what seemed like a laser pistol, with a couple of power-cells and next to it was a small pile of well-crafted ancient jewelry inlaid with intricate patterns and small blood-red gems. Under it there was what Leon though was an ancient datapad, one which he might need help if he wanted to extract anything useful, or at least some equipment. As he returned to the Ellireans, they soon managed to get the door to the lab opened. The entered the dark room, it was filled with tables, ancient research equipment and strange storage tanks similar to cloning vats. As they approached, they saw that some were stasis tank, in which strange mutated creatures stared at them, dead in the murky liquid. Four-armed, stooped and with large growths on their backs and rows of jagged teeth. Immediately questions assailed Leon's mind, what were they doing in what seemed like a great home? Why down here and not in some ancient research facility? Who made them? Why? T'Kess interrupted his thoughts as she desperately and noisily searched for any sign that the ancient data-terminals might be powered up...
Scavenger's Luck: 77 - Gain Ancient Laser Pistol, Gain Ancient Jewelry, Gain Seemingly broken Ancient Datapad.
T'kra Tyawerai
Roai gulped, this might not be easy, it might backfire horribly if those Fisher King thugs though that this was some last-minute attempt to trick them out of the product they were waiting for. The Werai woman still tried her best and lo and behold. It seemed Roai was particularly persuasive today and the Fishers seemed not to take that much issue with her made-up reasoning for them to move, perhaps they were new on the job and not over careful, which would make it even worse if things came to a shootout. Luckily Roai was currently leading the Fishers away and right to the point T'kra had told her to set as a new exchange point. Keyu still kept her eyes on the suspicious strangers, they were twitchy, nervous, looking in the direction of the former drop-off point. Keyu stayed out of the way attempting to remain inconspicuous. The strangers sent one of their number forward, Keyu followed at a distance and indeed, she stranger in the long coat was on his way to the former meeting spot and when he saw there was nobody there but the occasional passer by he pulled out his hand-terminal and made a call. She couldn't quite hear what he was saying but from his mannerisms and tone, he seemed to say his excuses, apparently having made the rest upset. He quickly made his way back to the rest, Keyu followed once more and watched them huddle up, speaking hurriedly with annoyed voices. They could try to make the deal in the new spot, it might take whoever these people were a while to find it, if that is what they were looking for at all. Then they could get their payment and get the hell out of these part before any bullets start flying, at them or otherwise.
Skill-check: 80 - Large Success
Skill-check: 54 - Small Success
by Ness Alquam » Tue Dec 10, 2019 3:57 am
by Ralnis » Wed Dec 11, 2019 9:29 pm
by Zjaum » Fri Dec 13, 2019 9:00 am
by The Empire of Tau » Fri Dec 13, 2019 10:57 am
by Elerian » Fri Dec 13, 2019 3:16 pm
by The National Dominion of Hungary » Tue Dec 17, 2019 10:18 am
Sakol Linyako
The Starbringer slipped free of her mooring clamps and drifted slowly from her berth aided by two automated tugs which later detached themselves after they were give the all-clear signal to be on their way from the station's traffic control. Sakol ordered all-ahead-full and the engine lit up with an intense blue exhaust blast as the Starbringer darted through the void, setting it's course toward their destination where an ancient builder cloud city awaited them, that and who knows what else? There was a slightly fearful atmosphere aboard the ship, hushed tones, visible tension. If there was something there that could make a Pythean expedition vanish without a trace, they would stand face-to-face with it soon. Of course, it could simply be some kind of anomaly or just sheer bad luck. They pythean ship could simply have faced a catastrophic system failure caused by a maintenance error, or just a more complex error to their comm-system. Yes, the Pytheans were among the most, if not arguably the most technologically advanced species in the galaxy but their equipment was not in any way failure-proof, nor were it's operators exempt from the sentient factor. Sakol spent the trip researching the records they had been provided on the Builder cloud city which once seemingly served to house the workers of several gas-mines, atmospherically suspended with mictharium manipulation fields beyond the understanding of modern science. Once used to extract hydrogen, helium and methane for the Builder empire. The Starbringer dropped out of warp at their destination, Sakol watched the sensors put together an image of the system he was in, a large red giant orbited by two gas giants. Both planets had impressive, beautiful ring-systems. Then they, got another reading, the Pythean ship. The sensors could not pick much up, only that if drifted near one of the planets, seemingly enveloped in a cloud of debris. They could see what had happened there, or go immediately toward the beckoning ruins of the cloud city.
Kyr Mirhorn Van
Kyr refocused from her painful memories on the present, on how to use their success and further build Clan Van into a strong and respected Clan among both her Dunkidor peers and others alike. After struggling for years on end, this might just have been the break that she needed and now their rise was finally at hand. After Zax returned from the clinic he was proudly showing off the scars left by the plasma burn and regaling the new recruits with inflated stories of their recent mission as the youths listened beaks ajar with amazement and wonder. The new recruits made themselves at home aboard the Battered Fly, which was all well and good as Kyr did not want them walking about on their own in case Zevo's men were hunting for them. If any got killed or even worse, captured, it would be a blow that she did not want to take. Not so soon after the clan had already lost one member whom they could not give an honorable burial. Indeed, she soon came to think that it would be best to leave Port Noctis for a while until the heat dies down and the Zorvishi pirates they had stolen from become preoccupied with more pressing matter than chasing after a bunch of Dunkidor mercs. She sent her ducks out in groups of three, no more than two groups at a time to look for work, checking with everyone from smugglers to traders to characters with various degrees of shadiness. Eventually one of her ducks lazily browsed the stations nets for work on his hand-terminal when a notice caught his eye, he soon brought it to Kyr's attention. The captain of a merchant vessel wanted a band of hired guns to track down a group of what seemed to be mostly Salunri thieves who cheated him out of some valuable cargo and had seemingly made their escape to the planet of Chasca, three gates away. The irate human trader was offering 800 credits for his cargo being returned, another 250 creds as an additional bonus if he gets the head of the thief leader on a plate.
T'kra Tyawerai
"Well shit, for a second I thought you were about to con us." One of the Fishers said as T'kra approached with her little cart. A tall, spindly Ulthar, arms covered in tattoos regarded her with his four eyes. T'kra could see the outline of a gun under his jacket, well and good that they had seemingly managed to avoid using any of those things today, T'kra´s little crew was in need of creds, not conflicts and shootouts that could very well leave one of them dead. At least now, as they were so poorly prepared for a fight. "Oh I have a lot of hungry customers we need to get to." The other Fisher said. "You wouldn't believe how loyal they are." The Ulthar snickered at his companions joke, before he took of his jacket, hanging it on T'kra´s cart and bent down, covering the product from view as he pulled a small knife out and stuck it in through the box and bag within, it came away with red dust. He promptly put the knife in his mouth and smiled. This was the good stuff apparently judging from his expression. The Fishers proceeded to pay 375 credits for the delivery, the agreed sum was 350, but it seemed the man they had sent to do the pickup had been feeling generous. The two gangsters took what was theirs and vanished into the dark alleyways that made up the maze of the district's streets, surrounded by low-rise apartment habblocks and lit by a ruddy light. As the three Werai women joined together and made their way back to their ship, spirits were high, they had managed to avoid danger and get paid, perhaps they were finally on their way to bigger and better things, admittedly with baby steps but still. Now they could look for new work and get their ship fixed up, get some more equipment or perhaps even head to the space of the great coreward powers.
Gain - 375 Credits.
Samuel Bridge Iron
Sam took the militia officers´deal, and soon 1150 credits made their way into his account. As his crew made ready to leave the following day, the militia came to pick up their goods before four of Sam's crewmen lift the large crate and load it on a truck bearing the marks of Ylem's Citizen Militia before it drove off into the city, presumably to pick up more supplies and equipment. As Samuel went back into the ship and sat down with his hand-terminal and holocomputer to check what the markets of Ylem offered and keep tabs on Carnegie's progress. It was slow work but for a trader, that is what made sure the ship was running and the galley was stocked with supplies. He checked through what was available focusing on agricultural produce and processed foodstuffs. Vegetables, grains, it could be acquired at a decent price even though it had gone up since the raid had destroyed many outlying farming communities and the rate of production had been knocked down, at least for the time being. Demand had also gone up with the arrival of so many refugees from across the cluster but Sam was able to find some good deals that could be interesting. Containers of vegetables could be purchased for 180 credits (20 Storage Units per Container), massed grain containers could be bought for 125 credits each (20 Storage Units per Container) and crates of processed, if basic ready-meals could be bought for 235 credits a crate (15 Storage Units per Crate). In the meantime, Carnegie who had been standing in line finally approached a visibly tired clerk at the service desk clad in the uniform of Ylem's civil service. After some searching through the registry, it took some convincing but Carnegie finally managed to get the clerk to divulge Mr Francisco Brudos´whereabouts, the man was being housed in a prefab bunkhouse at the far side of the camp near a small stream, he quickly called to the rest of the crew to meet up and wait for Sam's green light to go get their biologist.
Gain - 1150 credits.
Leon Tchaikovsky
In the dusty bowels of this ruined manor, Leon gazed at the strange creatures before offering his aid to T'Kess, putting an end to her swearing and making the Ellirean's face light up with a ray of hope. If the scientist got what she wanted, then he could finally get out of this abominable place. He stood next to the scientist as she was trying to get the datapad powered up after taking some time to directly wire it to the cell, it took several attempts and they needed to cannibalize some of their own cabling in order to get a stable connection but T'Kess and her assistant finally managed to get a charge to the pad and power it up. It flashed in red and it took a tense few seconds before the holographic projector stopped flickering. A strange jumble of symbols and glyphs appeared on the screen. It had to be a password of some sort but then, Leon remembered, the alien in his vision! The vision that led him here, he had seen combination of symbols on the back of his cloak. Some kind of sigil or insignia, he took the datapad and entered the combination. Lo and behold, the datapad flashed with an orange light and beeped. Soon thereafter, a rumble could be heard followed by a clacking sound as the lamps in the roof turned on to give a warm orange light, some of them didn't turn on, some turned off a second later. Similar for the datastations and computers, but three seemed to remain on. T'Kess whooped loudly, to the seeming embarrassment of her guard and assistant. "Thank you kindly human, for all your aid." She said with a seemingly genuine smile, undisturbed by the light cast upon the creatures in the tanks, as they stared at them through the murky liquid, their deformations much more visible. "You've done me a great service, me and the University of Nicayle both. We are here thanks to you, and thus I would like to ask if you wish to stay an help us, I will pay, of course. 1250 credits in a lump sum. If you wish to be on your way, I would still like to compensate you with 500 credits. And, in that case you wish to leave, may I buy this?" She said, pointing to the ancient datapad.
Skill-check: 84 - Large Success.
by Zjaum » Tue Dec 17, 2019 4:22 pm
by Ralnis » Tue Dec 17, 2019 8:30 pm
by Aidannadia » Wed Dec 18, 2019 1:42 pm
by The Empire of Tau » Sat Dec 21, 2019 12:00 pm
by The National Dominion of Hungary » Sun Dec 22, 2019 12:37 pm
T'kra Tyawerai
As the ship slipped it's moorings and left Port Dusk, the three women were once more on their way, zipping past suns and worlds after powering up their FTL-drive. The system was out of the way and largely unvisited except for by the occasional watermerchant selling his life-giving goods to the small colony of Tarmassian pioneers present on Hovorkam. Alternatively there were some salvagers, prospectors and even the occasional pirates among the world's "frequent" visitors other than the occasional spacer stopping by for a quick look at the system's namesake, the Darchoga Nebula before moving on. After they finally arrived, they drifted in the system, looking to T'Kra for an instruction on where to go next, the Darchoga System had four planets, a large (barely) life-supporting moon, as the Werai looked out from their viewports they could see thousands of twinkling stars lightyears away and the think green and purple haze of the Darchoga that enveloped the system. First planet nearest to the sun was a small rock planet, the intense heat and radiation from it's parent star kept much of it's surface molten at all times, oceans of magma and a surface temperature of around 1900 degrees Celsius has kept everyone away as nothing as been found to justify the extreme financial expense that properly exploring such an extreme environment would amount to. Then there was Syba, a standard hydrogen-helium gas giant tinted blue by trace amounts of methane in it's composition. Orbiting Syba was Hovorkam, the planet's scorching, nearly moistureless desert moon. It does have some underground aquifers and it's orbit around the gas giant give rise to gravitational anomalies that cause plumes of sodium silicate to erupt from it's surface, depositing unusually pure silicon sand in their wake surface, an important material for manufacturing high-performance computer hardware. Settled by a small group of Tarmassian pioneers numbering no more than a thousand, most of the colony's incomes are derived from selling said silicone. Their fledgling colony along with what appear to be abandoned mining facilities, scattered outposts and camps left by other seeking the same wealth can be found here. After Syba there is Anajun, a typical ammonia-methane ice giant. Traces of chlorine in the atmosphere give it a distinct green tint. Penetrating scans made by the Tarmassian colonists on Hovorkam have revealed large numbers of hollow, unpowered objects circulating along the equatorial bands. While they are too deep to be reached for proper study, popular conjecture holds that they are "coffins" of an ancient race who laid their dead to rest in the gas giant. Last but not least, there is Korar. A small, lifeless rock blessed with significant deposits of thorium which is used in radiation shielding and the manufacture of spaceframe alloys. A few miners eke out an existence on the surface working in sealed suits as the planet has only a trace atmosphere.
Kyr Mirhorn Van
The trip was short and went off without a hitch. Arriving in orbit around Chasca it didn't take too long to be assigned to a docking berth in one of the major citys. Large desert bands extended around the planet's equator but in the north and south humid rainforests were the norm, it was there that most of the large cities could be found along the cost, with the inland territories home to countless smaller communities centered around farming, the food they grew mostly ended up on plates in Port Noctis, the great amounts of hallucinogenic plants they grew thanks to the climate ended up on Port Noctis as well, only not on it's plates but in it's drug labs where it awaited refinement into spazz, stardust and thrasher. As the Battered Fly sliced through the planet's atmosphere they flew at speed above the sea toward the sleek, elegant skyscrapers that rose up in the distance before them. Finally arriving at their destination, the Dunkidor set down on the designated platform. As they left their ship they found themselves in a city strangely similar to one that could be found on most of the even remotely well-established worlds of the Accordance thanks to a peace made possible by the good relations they local authorities had with the Outlaw Council and Renegade King back on nearby Port Noctis. Make no mistake, this was still the Outer Rim, go to the wrong place, piss of the wrong people, you got a target on your back. Smugglers often frequented the planet, fencing stolen goods and selling it on other worlds. On a planet of 150 million (not counting transients) finding a band of thieves would be like searching for a needle in a haystack. Kyr would have to gather information, perhaps contact an information broker, a private detective or maybe even the local law enforcement or she could even pose as a potential buyer, hoping the thieves would be interested in her offer.
Mei Nakama
Mei's flock went about their work diligently, doing God's work with a prayer on their lips and a spring in their step as they walked the hallways of their old sloop, the Reclaimant which proudly sported the symbol of their faith painted on it's side, proclaiming the truth of the Ones who Came Before. The faithful had payed a steep price to a greedy Gharryn explorer for the star-charts Mei was now following and she was glad to be rid of the self-important birdman. Looking out through the window of her captain's quarters she immersed herself in what documentation she had available on this holy place. It was sadly not much, it's function was unknown and they avians had barely touched it, apparently the heathens found stripping the dead from the planet's failed colony more important than paying the proper rites and conducting the Rituals of Awakening to be allowed entrance into this holy place. They were on their way to the planet Cavral, a largely arid desert world all too often wracked by deadly, radiation-contaminated storms. Some attempts have been made at settling, the last being last year by a group of hopeful Hemoh exiles hoping to prospect the local minerals before their colony was massacred in a pirate raid. There were six worlds in the system, but Mei payed little heed to reading of those, she had work to do. After a few days, they finally arrived in the system, letting their sensors sweep back and forth they detected an anomaly, seemingly a derelict ship, probably once belonging to the hopeful settlers and lost in the pirate raid. They could set course straight for Cavral and the ancient vault, or they could of course stop at the drifting wreck along the way, perhaps there was something worthwhile there.
Samuel Bridge Iron
Carnegie entered through the door after it opened with a hydraulic hiss, the overwhelming smell of the combined sweat of a dozen species hit his nostrils as he stepped inside followed by Mary and the rest of the crew. Bunk-beds were stacked along the walls, laundry was hanging on lines, suitcases and bags were stacked in piles. Dozens of people milled about, many were listless and bored, idling about, making small talk or playing games on their hand-terminals. Waiting for something, anything to happen. Others sat in their beds, silent, with vacant looks a testament to those they had left behind as they fled the pirate armada. Sam's crewmembers looked around until they finally found a lanky, dark-skinned human man with a frizzy mustache, face buried in his hand-terminal scrolling through something. "Are you Francisco Brudos?" He asked, taking the man's gaze from his hand-terminal. Carnegie then introduced himself and explained the situation, offering Francisco some work identifying the strange seeds they had found. It seemed to peek the man's interest and Brudos did indeed offer to try and identify the seeds, he wanted 100 credits up front, another 350 if he manages to finish his work successfully explaining that he is saving up to buy the services of a skilled information broker. Sam in the meantime, perhaps feeling a pang of inspiration he checks up on a completely different market. Property values hadn't declined as much as one could have expected after such a brutal raid as the flood of refugees had driven up the demand for land and housing. Still Samuel was able to get an inking of the costs, there was a homestead for sale in the Gerland Canyon for example, with a four-room house, garage and a few terraced fields on the surrounding hillsides. All for a cheap 6500 credits, normally it would have gone for 8000 but the homestead had been raided by the pirates during the attack and part of the house had been burned and required repairs.
by Aidannadia » Sun Dec 22, 2019 1:09 pm
by Ralnis » Sun Dec 22, 2019 2:00 pm
by The Empire of Tau » Sun Dec 22, 2019 3:14 pm
by Zjaum » Mon Dec 23, 2019 8:52 am
by The National Dominion of Hungary » Wed Dec 25, 2019 7:15 am
Mei Nakama
The sloop zipped in fast and low over the arid sand dunes and red, rocky hills and outcroppings. Near a small oasis they could see the ruins of the Hemoh colony, picked over by scavengers many times but there was likely still something of use there if one looked hard enough. They zipped past the ruins too however, focused on their goal. On an island in the middle of a small lake rose a vast rectangular pillar, silvery gray and shot through with geometric patterns it rose toward the blue sky above. Despite the Builders having vanished two billion years ago, the metal alloy that had been used to raise the structure had barely been dented by the elements, they weren't called the Builders without good reason after all. The sloop slowed and touched down on the island, kicking up a furious cloud of dust and sand while Mei and three of her faithful acolytes donned their space-suits and geared up for the task at hand. One can't be too careful, not when venturing into these ruins, structural instability, the release of strange gasses, ancient combat drones and battle droids, all were potential dangers as the Reclaimers knew very well, lessons hard learned by the faithful, many of whom had been lost in the antediluvian ruins of the Ones who Came Before across years and decades. As they approached, the heavy metal doors, Mei keyed in the DPU in her implant to communicate with the ancient technology. It took a while, the proper rites and prayers had to be said for the ancient machine spirits to allow them entry, but after a while, the heavy doors slid open. They found themselves in a short dark hallway, green lights shimmered in the dark metal walls as their steps echoed through the dark. Who knows when someone last walked these halls? They arrived in a hexagonal chamber where a large flat elevator took up most of the floor. Mei had heard of these, they were usual in builder facilities and after about an hour, they managed to power it up and descend into the darkness. The dark metal hallway they found themselves in split into two paths, they could split up and cover more ground. But if there were some hazards down here... well, in that case it might be best to stick together.
Kyr Mirhorn Van
It certainly helped the human trader had given his temporary Dunkidor employees all documents pertaining to the stolen goods. It was only a few relatively small crates of good that had been lost, but it wasn't just any goods. The crates contained items found in an old Ranghorn base in the Outer Rim. The Ranghorn were a curious and violent species from somewhere in Galactic Darkspace without any kind of regular contact with the wider known galactic community. Those who do enter the systems of the known galaxy do so in the farthest clusters of the Outer Rim, nearest major location being Port Dusk. Mostly those Ranghorn who come seem to be pirates, they ask no questions and always shoot first. Only once every few decades a Ranghorn ship comes in peace, docking at Port Dusk. These Ranghorn are most well-known for their odd trade requests for which they offer various pieces of their equipment or cultural artifacts and their requests usually involve the trade of living beings in odd numbers and varieties, such as two dozen left-handed humans, sixteen sets of emyaar twins, a dunkidor born of parents from feuding clans et cetera. No one knows what happens to the individuals concerned after the exchange is completed and the Ranghorn vanish back into the unexplored reaches of the galaxy. Even places like the gleaming cities of Chasca had their dark, seedy underworld, don't let that air of the Accordance fool you here. You're still in the Rim. Kyr and her ducks spent some of their time online with their hand-terminal, accessing the dark corners of the local nets. Fences, smugglers, illegal auctions of stolen goods. Then came the legwork, Kyr had her ducks canvass the cantinas known to be the places where smugglers congregated. They dressed in their finest and posed as representatives of a wealthy Dunkidor clan chief in the Thule Cluster with a passion for alien artifacts. Luck and Gods were on their side it seemed, those smugglers ate it all up, hook, line and sinker, the whole story. Two of her ducks returned to the Battered Fly with information after spending an evening with a few Farrasqui smugglers who offered their services to deliver the goods, they gave Kyr a contact number, apparently this person knew all about the trade in Ranghorn artifacts on Chasca...
Skill-check: 90 - Great Success!
Samuel Bridge Iron
It took a while, a military command structure goes on for a bit, even when it's just an Outer Rim militia, the farther up he wanted to go the longer he had to wait before he was admitted into the presence of the person in question. Not that they weren't interested, not at all. Even a small freighter was a boon for a ravaged Outer Rim colony struggling to rebuild itself. It took days for the information to travel, the wheels of bureaucratic hierarchy rarely been known for their speed in sentient history. Finally Samuel was invited to a meeting with the logistical operations commander of the Militia, and it would seem that there would be some people from the civil administration there, if Sam played his cards right he might just have steady work for the foreseeable future. In the afternoon, a black aircar with tinted windows touched down at the spacedock and two militia soldiers asked Sam to come with them. They flew over the streets of Discovery, above it's buildings whose walls were riddled with the marks of gunfire, above piles of rubble which had been cleared from the streets to ease passage. After a quick flight above the small city they arrived at a mostly restored building surrounded by a messy garden no doubt once serene, but now untended, trash piled in the empty fountains. As Sam entered he could see people in the uniforms of Ylem's civil services and the planetary militia hurrying to and fro, datapads in held close and speaking in their hand-terminals. He was finally led into a conference room where the LogOps Commander and a state representative were waiting. After offering him some refreshments they explained that they were very pleased that someone had offered their services as a reliable transport service provider, Ylem had no merchant fleet nor would have in the foreseeable future, but they were willing to offer Samuel a transportation contract, where he would be payed various sums to pick up goods purchased by the Ylem planetary state and deliver them to their destination. The amount of money would very depending on the goods to be transported. They eagerly awaited Sam's response. In the meantime, Francisco Brudos looked at the strange seed after opening the case Carnegie had placed on the table. He would need to acquire some equipment to do the test in order ascertain exactly what this was, he thanked Carnegie for the credits and assured that he would be in touch with regular updates on his progress.
- 100 Credits, payed to Francisco Brudos.
T'kra Tyawerai
The Werai darted forward at speed across the hot dunes of Hovorkam, the sand sea stretched far, broken up only by the occasional ridge or mountain rising up in the distance. There was little around, their sensors picked up the faint signature of a distant camp near some strange basalt formations in the distance though it was probably abandoned, made by some independent miners scraping silicates up from the group after a plume eruption long ago. There was a chance to find some salvageable materials but T'kra had other things in mind, she hoped they would find a plume of silicates erupting somewhere in the dunes and so they kept on flying. They caught no sight of the local colonists, which wasn't hard to imagine as they were so few and rarely ventured too far from the main settlement. Tarmassians were hardy, they could survive in environments that could kill a member of most other sentient species in a few days but even they had to be careful here, getting lost in the dunes and succumbing to dehydration and the sun was a very real threat to anyone here. They later picked up the signature of another abandoned outpost but as of yet, there was no sign of any seismic activity. They could of course keep looking, or maybe wait for a day and search again tomorrow, or they could take chance and see of the old camps had anything of value to scavenge. The Werai were excited about going out into the heat, T'kra could see that spending some time here, hopefully in peace and quiet would improve the mood and morale of her two companions, and hers as well she thought to herself.
Search roll: 39 - Not the best of luck.
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