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Following [[Pent Stavro]] and her box of parts, we stumble aboard the [[Lua Bao]], where we are greeted by a Vargr called [[Christopher]]. He introduces himself as the Chief Security Officer of the ship. We briefly also meet the captain (a human named [[Luis]]), who issues stern orders that we're to stay in the passenger lounge, and are not to disturb staff under any circumstance. | |||
For our comfort and necessity, we are to turn to the cabin boy Roger. We quickly hustle into the various cabins, skipping the one of which the door remains - for the moment - closed. Both [[Franky]] and [[Diogo]] choose to forego roommates. I bunk up with [[Stigo Peters]] and of course [[Heloise]] drags Brick into a cabin with her, instructing him on how to stow her kit. | |||
Not long thereafter - the docking clamps have not even been released yet - the door of the occupied cabin opens, and a man in coveralls steps out. | |||
He introduces himself as [[Randy]] Heafield, and he seems like a capable sort. We make polite conversation and he seems well enough connected. Some activist groups get mentioned, which I may have heard of. | |||
-- | Around this time, Stigo joins the world of the more-or-less conscious. He complains of serious aches and pains, and upon investigation we see evidence that he has recently been implanted with a data chip. Some quick work by Diogo shows us that the contents of the chip have been encrypted and agelocked until Stigo's 25th birthday. We briefly consider trying to decrypt the contents, but the clear warning to the life of the boy makes us decide to leave it. | ||
Finding ourselves a bit at a loss, we chew the fat with Randy. He mentions some loose association with an organization that seems to be... useful... for our current predicament. If we want to stay out of the claws of [[Sternmore Intergalactic]], it would help if the thing that is currently our secret would be public knowledge, as long as it is untraceable to us. That's definitely a thread we should consider to pulling, so after some talk with the team, I propose that I prepare a file. | |||
Pent shows up again, eventually, asking if we have a spare bunk for her to borrow. Franky agrees to share. Between the two of them, they almost talks as much as two regular people. | |||
It would even be better if we somehow managed to curb the spread of our names in whichever communications the charming [[Dalglee Hahsh]] has put out... Perhaps Diogo's talents could be of use there. We'll consider our options in that avenue. | |||
Lastly, though most definitely not leastly, we need to make a living. Here too, Randy seems to have something useful to offer - he corroborates a rumor that [[Heloise]] heard. Apparently the administration on Drinax (or well, the orbital palace around Drinax) is looking for a crew to do a job for them. Our local contact is [[director Laris Spitral]]. It takes 2 hops to make it to Drinax, and I promise to have a whistle blower report ready for Randy to pass on to some people he knows with a group called [[Together Forward]] by the time we set foot on that floating pile of faded glory. | |||
To wile away the time, we all pick up some books, a game or a little research project. Diogo also proves a daft hand at the gaming table, and manages to win a bar of silver from me, with which he seems inordinately pleased. He also comes back with some useful intel on the person we are supposed to meet. Ex navy, apparently. | |||
Soon enough we make it to Drinax, and I make sure to give myself a little refresher on court etiquette. This proves quite useful when we are (of course) shown to an antechamber where food is presented to us prior to the meeting. Noet to self: apologize to [[Brick]] for my tone. It surprises me that we are only kept waiting for half an hour. Clearly whatever this mission is, it is important. | |||
There is remarkably little beating around the bush. We're not asked to come back another day. The people we need to speak to are available, the pay is decent and the assistance we get is significant. Between Spitral and [[Cassius Belli]], our equipment hookup, we swiftly learn the mission - a retrieval job of some mining data. Or well, supposed mining data. Supposedly submerged when the vessel of our late explorer pals was dropped into a lake. The place is currently an active warzone, in a place called [[Sink]]. Utmost discretion. Comms blackout until pickup. No one knows who set us. Civil war. No casualties, no trouble, and we need to appear like a harmless bunch of tourists. | |||
Consider me deeply suspicious. The lack of rudeness shows that this is a very, very big deal to them. | |||
This is where the boring part of the meeting starts. Luckily, I seem to travel with gearheads who enjoy working out precisely what needs to come on this trip with us. They keep mentioning something called harpoon guns? And a "Fish Finder"? I try to stifle my yawns. | |||
Anyway. I'll pose as a tourist. With luck they'll have a cocktail bar somewhere. | |||
== missive sent == | |||
Inv. Inq. Re: Haris Slowcombe // Butler Chemical // Experiments on involuntary human subjects // Calendula | |||
*attached* | |||
H. Slowcombe Message Log | |||
---- | |||
[[Campaign_Murdok_Madness|Campaign Main Page]] || Previous: [[20 May 2023 | Don't Shoot the Messenger ]] || [[Murdok_Madness_Play_Sessions|All Playsessions]] || Next: [[22_July_2023|Sinking on Sink]] | |||
Latest revision as of 14:59, 11 December 2023
Following Pent Stavro and her box of parts, we stumble aboard the Lua Bao, where we are greeted by a Vargr called Christopher. He introduces himself as the Chief Security Officer of the ship. We briefly also meet the captain (a human named Luis), who issues stern orders that we're to stay in the passenger lounge, and are not to disturb staff under any circumstance.
For our comfort and necessity, we are to turn to the cabin boy Roger. We quickly hustle into the various cabins, skipping the one of which the door remains - for the moment - closed. Both Franky and Diogo choose to forego roommates. I bunk up with Stigo Peters and of course Heloise drags Brick into a cabin with her, instructing him on how to stow her kit.
Not long thereafter - the docking clamps have not even been released yet - the door of the occupied cabin opens, and a man in coveralls steps out.
He introduces himself as Randy Heafield, and he seems like a capable sort. We make polite conversation and he seems well enough connected. Some activist groups get mentioned, which I may have heard of.
Around this time, Stigo joins the world of the more-or-less conscious. He complains of serious aches and pains, and upon investigation we see evidence that he has recently been implanted with a data chip. Some quick work by Diogo shows us that the contents of the chip have been encrypted and agelocked until Stigo's 25th birthday. We briefly consider trying to decrypt the contents, but the clear warning to the life of the boy makes us decide to leave it.
Finding ourselves a bit at a loss, we chew the fat with Randy. He mentions some loose association with an organization that seems to be... useful... for our current predicament. If we want to stay out of the claws of Sternmore Intergalactic, it would help if the thing that is currently our secret would be public knowledge, as long as it is untraceable to us. That's definitely a thread we should consider to pulling, so after some talk with the team, I propose that I prepare a file.
Pent shows up again, eventually, asking if we have a spare bunk for her to borrow. Franky agrees to share. Between the two of them, they almost talks as much as two regular people.
It would even be better if we somehow managed to curb the spread of our names in whichever communications the charming Dalglee Hahsh has put out... Perhaps Diogo's talents could be of use there. We'll consider our options in that avenue.
Lastly, though most definitely not leastly, we need to make a living. Here too, Randy seems to have something useful to offer - he corroborates a rumor that Heloise heard. Apparently the administration on Drinax (or well, the orbital palace around Drinax) is looking for a crew to do a job for them. Our local contact is director Laris Spitral. It takes 2 hops to make it to Drinax, and I promise to have a whistle blower report ready for Randy to pass on to some people he knows with a group called Together Forward by the time we set foot on that floating pile of faded glory.
To wile away the time, we all pick up some books, a game or a little research project. Diogo also proves a daft hand at the gaming table, and manages to win a bar of silver from me, with which he seems inordinately pleased. He also comes back with some useful intel on the person we are supposed to meet. Ex navy, apparently.
Soon enough we make it to Drinax, and I make sure to give myself a little refresher on court etiquette. This proves quite useful when we are (of course) shown to an antechamber where food is presented to us prior to the meeting. Noet to self: apologize to Brick for my tone. It surprises me that we are only kept waiting for half an hour. Clearly whatever this mission is, it is important.
There is remarkably little beating around the bush. We're not asked to come back another day. The people we need to speak to are available, the pay is decent and the assistance we get is significant. Between Spitral and Cassius Belli, our equipment hookup, we swiftly learn the mission - a retrieval job of some mining data. Or well, supposed mining data. Supposedly submerged when the vessel of our late explorer pals was dropped into a lake. The place is currently an active warzone, in a place called Sink. Utmost discretion. Comms blackout until pickup. No one knows who set us. Civil war. No casualties, no trouble, and we need to appear like a harmless bunch of tourists.
Consider me deeply suspicious. The lack of rudeness shows that this is a very, very big deal to them.
This is where the boring part of the meeting starts. Luckily, I seem to travel with gearheads who enjoy working out precisely what needs to come on this trip with us. They keep mentioning something called harpoon guns? And a "Fish Finder"? I try to stifle my yawns.
Anyway. I'll pose as a tourist. With luck they'll have a cocktail bar somewhere.
missive sent
Inv. Inq. Re: Haris Slowcombe // Butler Chemical // Experiments on involuntary human subjects // Calendula
- attached*
H. Slowcombe Message Log
Campaign Main Page || Previous: Don't Shoot the Messenger || All Playsessions || Next: Sinking on Sink