Well, you've survived two topics, Carthrat. While the last arc lacked what I'd call a balls to the wall final boss battle, I'm sure I'll be able to make up for it. Any last words before we go on, Rat?
Yeah. Something that comes up a few times in this game is the whole location thing. We tend to spend a moderate amount of time in each location and whatnot.
In this version, I think that the few main locations should be as follows;
1) The Merchant Space Station.
2) That planet that begins with A and is a mid-earth industrial society.
3) Heli-3.
4) Whatever ship we manage to put together.
I think we we confine the location somewhat more and put more detail into it, we'll get a richer game.
*Nods* Sounds good. On that note...
---
Small guidance drones guide your stolen ship inside the docking bay, the unpainted metal walls dull against the black backdrop of space. Eased in, you dock without trouble next to a small cargo ship(The brightly painted BEF Exertion and a more down to earth black and chrome private shuttle.). Of course, the moment you settle in...
"This is the space station Ticondoga." Your radio systems crackles with the dry, businesslike voice of a male, obviously going through the needed motions. "Please open your shuttle hatch to admit Customs and Registration. Thank you."
Rachel glances to Carthrat at that, a bit worried. "Is anything we have on here going to be a problem for that?"
"I dunno. Tir, do you have the bribe money ready?" asks Carthrat, glancing at the plasma rifles. "I don't wanna be unarmed just yet."
With a sigh, Tir takes a C card out from his pants pocket. "Yeah, I'm ready," he grouses a bit. "I'm guessing a thousand or so Cs, no more. It's not like this is a big station, just some ants on top of shit mountain."
From his position, still leaning against one of the high backed chairs in the cockpit, "Go ahead and let them in. I'm ready to get off of this clunker."
Carthrat taps a couple of buttons, opening the service hatch. "Opening the hatch now. Any specific regulations we should be aware of, control?"
"Nothing that could help you now," the operator replies, with a touch of droll humor. "If you're carrying contraband, you're going to be in deep."
As that goes on, the hatch does indeed open, a humanoid bot, down to skin like plastic over it's body and shortish brown hair, comes aboard. It's dressed in a blue quasi uniform, with shiny buttons and a badge that says something about interregional customs. The robot strides into the cockpit in confidence, addressing all of you. "Do you have anything to declare before we search the ship?" it asks in a monotone, it's posture perfectly straight, perhaps the proverbial stick up the ass it's rules give it.
"Yeah," Tir says, flipping the C card over to the robot, the plastic money card bouncing off the robot's chest and into it's waiting hand. "Analysing...analysing....Thank you for your 1500 C donation. You have cleared Customs." Flipping the card back with a well oiled motion to Tir, the robot departs. The moment he's out the door...
"1500 C?" Tir gripes. "Robbery! Fruad! Excessive!"
"Don't worry," replies Carthrat, wryly. "I'm sure we'll take far more back from them before we're done.
Hey, Tir, check and make sure that thing didn't leave any surprises behind. Like those micro-recorders I hear so much about.
And designed. I used to build them for pranks. So much fun."
Submerging his bitching under his breath, Tir works on the control panel a few seconds. "Let's see....no...no...Nope, doesn't look like it, and this ship has good sensors." Tir stands back up, with a small shrug. "If they got them on, they have good enough tech to fool this ship, and I don't buy that.
Hell, those guide drones," Tir thinks of those green, red and blue mini robots that guided you into the docking bay, "weren't even all that good. I think we're good to go."
"Well, get out, then, and buy me some new clothes," says Carthrat, drolly. "I'll stay back and guard the ship. For now, Rachel, stay with Tir. I ain't going out there in this crap. I'll stand out too damn much."
He pulls at the too-small uniform. "Make sure you get it in the proper size, too."
With a smile she can't quite kill, "Sure. I'll get you something that'll suit you," she promises, while Tir sighs again and glances at the C chard he holds in his hand.
"Let's go, Rachel," he says. "This shouldn't take more than an hour if we don't get held up," Tir guesses, then his smirk returns. "Don't get lonely, Rat."
With that, the two disembark, off to the station and leaving Carthrat to his own devices for a spell.
Carthrat, for his part, heads over to the ship control room, grabbing a plasma rifle and laying it on his lap while he pushes some buttons and starts trying to access the space-station network..
Ah, it's like the good 'ol days..
The network setup is basic enough - a portalway to a domain with information, ads and other such basics abou tthe station. Of note is that there are said to be at least a few high quality trading good shops here, and those are just the public ones, not counting how big the black market is here.
Beyond the mercantile bits, there isn't too much to the place. It's a overgrown trading post, and makes no bones about it.
Carthrat starts poking around the shipyard areas, making a few enquiries of his own, trying to judge the likely prices he could get away with selling a ship of his model and refinement for, along with checking out the other ships on the market at the moment (the not-crap ones).
The general market for ships looks to be fairly mobile and solid. Researching a bit, you'd guess that from the numbers you saw, that you'd get anywhere from 400,000 to 800,000 C for this, depending on the buyer and dumb luck. Maybe a bit more or less.
As for the buying market, there aren't TOO many details. Much of it is basically lures to go to a seller or group and talk to them directly, all the info you see online is advertisements that aren't really that trustworthy.
"High-pressure salesman tactics.. well, there's gotta be a buyer somewhere!"
Carthrat nods to himself. *Everyone* wants a ship!
Tapping away at the keypad, he starts looking for interested buyers while he waits for Tir and Rachel to come back..
It takes a few minutes to really get into that, and as you just start to...
"Hey, Rat! We're back," Tir calls from the hatch entry, Rachel a step behind him, a few bags with her. For his part, Tir is now dressed in a loose white dressy shirt again, with brown slacks of some sort. Rachel's gone with a pair of white pants and a green sweater. Both look a damn sight better than they did in the uniforms and ruined clothing you had after the escape from the Slicing Gale.
"Did you bring back any beer? Or pretzels?" asks Carthrat, waving. "Can't really play video games without both, y'know."
"Should've stopped for some," Tir muses at that, plopping down in a command chair while Rachel brings you the two white bags she carriers.
"Here, Carthrat. I think the sizes are right." Looking inside, you find a black T-shirt with long sleeves, likewise jean esque pants that should last a long time, and a gray trench style coat, with two deep inside pockets.
"Thanks, Rachel," says Carthrat, zipping out and getting changed..
It's not often the man becomes overly introspective on how he looks, but while he's getting changed, he can't help buy glance at a nearby mirror..
Given that he'd spent the last two weeks living in the constant fear that he was about the get blown out of space, he surmised he wasn't looking so bad.
Perhaps somewhat leaner than when he started out, his still-tall and still muscled frame allowed him to give a slight smile of satisfaction. He always *had* been the biggest kid on the block.
He could use a haircut, though, and probably a shave. His hair was even longer than before; probably due to spending so much time in his alternate form.
Still, he could go out looking much worse.
Throwing the trenchcoat on, which did a wonder in concealing his true frame and size, he reflected that he looked much the same as he did several years ago.
Sauntering back out to Tir and Rachel, he wonders just how much he's changed inside.
Maybe he should start wearing white. And move to jackets instead of cloaks. White was stylin'.
"So, yeah, let's grab some food," says Carthrat, waving over Tir and Rachel. "See any decent noodle bars or anything? There's like seven levels of food, and field rations are only one step above bugs'n'berries."
Tir nods solemn agreement to that. "Amen. Anyway, I saw a couple of places that could work - most of it's alien fare, though, all the way out here. Can't be any worse than those military feedpacks, though." With that, he falls in step with you, Rachel a bit behind.
Stepping outside, the barren, metallic appearance of the docking pay is to the point - only a few large warning signs on the wall, plastered in red, break up the steel toned monotony. Warning of 'severe punishment' for contraband or running weapons here, they impose downward. A wide access hallway is ahead, leading to the more homely parts of the station.
"It's right through there and up the lift," Rachel says. "They've made an effort to make it look nice - some trees and plants, and a holographic sky."
Carthrat snorts. "As long as they have good AC, I'm right.
Hey, Tir, wanna play 'spot-the-gunrunner'?"
"Maybe after we eat," he shrugs, glancing. "She didn't want to eat without you, Carthrat." He smirks just a bit at that, said smirk causing a tiny blush to color Rachel's cheeks as you enter the hallway. An elevator sits at the end of it, a large enough thing to fit at least twenty people a ride. Above it on the railing are various warning signs, again commenting on contraband in red and yellow, as well as a weight limit warning for the lift - 50, 000 pounds.
A few assorted humanoids roam the hallway, going to or from their vessels, most paying you no mind as they get on with their lives. Yet, the selection even here is diverse. Races you haven't seen in years along with old mainstays are about...
"And right she wouldn't," says Carthrat, confidentally. "My ability to choose a restraunt and select an appropriate meal is second to none. Did I ever tell you I got to be one of the judges on some cooking show once?"
He continues to ramble on about food as he makes his way to the elevator.. staying as alert as one could in such a crowded environment.
Laughing a bit, Tir plays along with your dodge, though Rachel doesn't quite seem to get it. With a confused look as you board the elevator and go up, the two of you babble on, until you reach the main deck.
And what a deck it is, by standards.
Firstly, a green tinted sky holographic image has been placed over the roof, giving the station a nicely planetside feeling, further enhanced by trees and shrubs planted about the sides of what is designed to be a main 'street'. Large shops of metal, festooned with ads and colorings of every sort are about, as well as hotels, guilds, restaurants and other such things, even a few open air stalls. A decent popluation of traders and workers are about, as well as a few security droids, the latter easily seen by their blue painted, metal skin.
"Feh. This place is nothing compared to Shinjuku," says Carthrat, unimpressed. "I mean, Shinjuku has a natural sky, and no security droids, and no big signs outside telling me I can't buy guns."
"Then go back to Shinjuku, Rat. I'm sure the local establishment there will LOVE to see your smiling face," Tir smiles a bit insultingly as he steps off the lift. Rachel just glances at both of you with a slight sigh.
"Anyway, which place did you want to go to," she asks. "I thought that grilling bar looked pretty good."
"What're they gonna do? Bleed on me?" replies Carthrat, tartly. "And grilling is good. What's our budget looking like?"
"Probably throw enough man and fire power at you to sink a third world country," Tir jabs, then sighs. "It's MY budget, and _I_ have enough for a decent meal for all three of us." Strolling down the main pathway, you start to enter the long, long row of buildings. It starts right off, with a guildhouse for merchants, and a exotic foods shop.
Carthrat makes a face. "You're not keeping a tab for me, are you?" he asks, only half-jokingly.
He thinks about a moment, then shrugs. "Naw. I'll just take it from your estate when you kick it," Oddly, he sound quite serious there, though a smile is on his face.
"Feh. I'll outlive you, Tir," says Carthrat, nodding. "By hook or by crook, I'll be the one attending a funeral. You're just too damn reckless. That's your trouble. Always throwing yourself into a situation without calmly and rationally thinking about what you're doing."
He rubs the back of his head. "Either way, like I'd have anything so dignified as an 'estate'."
Tir just snorts at that, walking on. Shortly ahead is the 'grilling place' mentioned, a little open air thing with the most wonderful smells coming from it. Around a central bar, there are grilling panels to cook your food and such, exotic offerings from various worlds about.
"This is good," says Carthrat, taking a seat which allows him to look out into the crowd. "Say, Rachel, ever had Korean barbeque?"
Rachel nods, sitting on one of the red plastic bar seats. The smells are to die for at this range, a server coming over, bald and black skinned, with oddly little gills on the side of his neck. "What can I get you," he asks, putting a menu in front of Carthrat...
Carthrat glances through the menu, gesturing to Tir and Rachel. "Sit, sit. I think we'd better let Tir do the ordering, hadn't we, Rachel? Any known allergies or methods of fooding we should know about?"
Rachel merely shakes her head, Tir getting the attention of the server. "Yeah. I think we'd like three..." A pause while he looks at the menu. "Let's just go with three of these variety platters," he decides. Going off, the chef gets your stuff while Tir leans back. "We start after this, Rat?"
"Not quite. We should probably grab the news or something," notes Carthrat. "I don't wanna find out that my name is currently reviled as the bringer of galactic doom, or anything."
"You're not that important in the scheme of things," Tir retorts as the platters of uncooked food arrive without comment by the server. A quick swipe of Tir's C card later and the server leaves.
"Hell, I'm guessing that the name Carthrat'll get a lot of blank looks."
"It never hurt to be cautious," notes Carthrat, blandly. "As it stands, Slicing Gale has plenty influence enough to make life difficult for me without taking a shot."
"True enough," Tir nods, taking the food out and starting with the grill. "Even if they don't catch you, I wouldnt' take out any credit in your name for the next few years."
"Yeah, you'll just stick around me," laughs Carthrat. "Face it, Tir, you'd be nothing without me!
Besides, I was notorious in my time," he continues, leaning back in his chair. "Though, admittedly, not in this sector. I never really came out here.. too far, not profitable enough. Nothing much ever *happens* here, after all."
Beginning to cook his food over the heat panel, Tir snorts. "Still having delusions of gradeur, Rat? Anyway, I don't think that's going to be a problem."
"I didn't think I was going to get ambushed in the first place," continues Carthrat, snorting. "Excuse *me* for being paranoid."
Biting back another sarcastic barb as he quick cooks the first set of meat, Tir goes on. "ANYWAY, you were saying you wanted to go get the news? Why don't you while I cook the meal, there should be a 'net portal around here."
"Yeah, you're right," replies Carthrat, standing up. "By the way, we still need to sell the damn ship. I've stuck up some advertisements, and all, but we want the best price we can get. There will be haggling to be done.."
Nodding, Tir turns his attention to the food.
About four buildings away, jammed between a clothing store and a large warehouse is a simple general use internet portal. It looks to be a simple matter to access it...
Carthrat walks up to the internet portal and accesses it, hitting the local news.
Springing to life, the local news section of the portal reports solely on business matters, sales and the like. There isn't a thing about you, but it's also not all that concerned about non business matters.
Carthrat hits the 'Science+' section, looking for the latest technological advances in this sector of the galaxy.
Really, though, he probably needed to backlog the past five years..
Reading, a quick inspection shows that drive engine technology is making strides again, as is shielding tech...
OOC - Unless you want to spend and hour of game time here reading, move on.
Carthrat continues to speed-read through the endless online tomes of scientific information, his eyes glazing over as he laps up the technological specifics and perks of the new galactic-age technology...
..looking primarily for something that is completely new. An entirely new spin on existing technology, perhaps, or a theorem that was recently proved that opens exciting new doors of technologists everywhere!
As Carthrat reads, time slips away as he is once again in his element. A little phone booth like internet portal is his entire world now, the words therein holding great meaning.
The scientific world looks to have been more focused on improving existing tech in the past five years, the bulk of the work on beefing up old toys. Energy weapons in particular are on the verge of a increasement due to new method of using superhot plasma bursts pressed together.
Reading past that, you do find one thing - a semi accepted new theory about higher than warp speeds, and the applications to creating super warp drive engines.
Carthrat continuously mumbles something to do with 'inefficiency' and 'illogicality' as he reads the news, particularly with regard to Plasma weapons. As if the things didn't pack enough of a punch allready.
Though he did wonder if they'd found a way to get rid of the vapour trail..
Then again, he always figured that was one of the main pulling points of energy weapons. The mass market; i.e., low-level thugs and small-time pirates and privateers were in the whole business for the thrill, the money, and for looking cool. Naturally, they'd snap up the rifles like a shot..
Super Warp Drive engines were interesting, noted Carthrat. Warp technology was something he was familiar with, and the concept of breaking the next barrier of speed had been something he had considered, back in his thesis-writing days.
However, persuing the matter had never been viable.. looks like some research firm had come up with the credits and all to support it.
"Either way, it doesn't matter.." mumbles Carthrat, figuring he'd better head back to Tir and Rachel..
Getting back a moment later, you find a cooling plate of food at your seat and a tall drink. Tir and Rachel watch as you walk back, having finished their meals already.
"Are you alright, Carthrat," Rachel asks. "I didn't expect you to be gone so long."
"I'm fine," replies Carthrat, wolfing down the cold meat. "I just got kinda caught up in what I was doing. It's not a problem, really."
"Anyway, eat up," Tir says. "Might as well get going soon...and did you find anything out of note?"'
Havin finished his meal, he leans back in his seat, waiting for you.
"Not alot," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Energy weapons are apparently on the rise. We'll need to look into getting appropriate defenses. I wager most of the thugs out there are packing at least a laspistol, and probably half have a Plasma rifle or three, too. We've got to get some reflectors, definately."
Tir nods at that, thoughtfully. "That's wonderful news," he notes. "Anything else, or can we finally get going?"
"You can start shopping, I guess," replies Carthrat, wolfing down his food. "I better get back and find a sale point for our ship."
Tir nods agreement for now as Carthrat tears up his food. "I'll get started myself soon," Rachel comments. "When should we meet up again?"
"We've gotta get some communicators before we go anywhere," notes Carthrat. "Then we'll meet at the shipyards. Tir, I'm counting on you. Rachel, you too. If you can only find one person with the right mindset, that'd be excellent.
Is there anything you guys want in particular that I can get? And believe me, I should be able to get almost anything. Champion negotiator that I am, and all."
"Okay," Rachel agrees. "I'd like a nice bathroom in the ship, perhaps," Rachel says thoughtfully. "Some living space if possible would be nice."
"Living space costs too much," replies Carthrat. "It's expensive enough to get a bloody ship that flies. Besides, we're not likely to spend as much time in space as we just did.
I just don't want to risk taking public transport to a dump like Heli 3. Being able to make a quick escape on your own terms is a sizable advantage in chaotic conditions."
Tir nods. "Heli 3 looks like a kettle that could boil over, too. No need to take any risks with it....ones we don't have to, anyway," he smirks to Rat. "I'm sure you'll provide enough ones that have to be taken."
"It *is* a kettle," replies Carthrat, grinning. "And it is boiling over. And that's why it's so perfect. Care to guess why?"
Grinning back, Tir goes on. "Sure, because you want to blow stuff up, Rat."
Rachel rolls her eyes at this, but stays quiet.
"No! I don't!" replies Carthrat, vehemently. "If I wanted to blow things up, Heli-3 is not the place to be. It's more a place to get blown up than do the blowing, like you're so used to."
'Heh," Tir just smiles. "Anyway, go on, Rat." he says, shifting a bit on his seat. "Unless you want to spend all day here?"
"As I recall, I was the one asking the questions," replies Carthrat, dryly. "And the question was; what gear do you want? Now's the time to remember, so I can get it without breaking heads, as I'm sure I'll have to do to get anything I want elsewhere.."
"I'm fine," Tir says, Rachel nodding after that.
"Besides that, no, I don't have anything in mind." Rachel supplies.
Carthrat scratches his head. "Well, if you say so. I guess you guys didn't get all your stuff stripped from you, after all.
Come'on, let's get back and sell that freaking ship before someone catches us."
OOC - Time to scene skip. Yay.
----
Leaving behind the restaurant, you proceed to the biggest non black market ship selling point here - Ran strictly buy a guild who deals with this thing. They inhabit a snug little building near the lift down to the docks, a faint trickle of people going to and from. Inside a front area decorated in the metallic style - Shiny metal, and not much else - is a simple wait area, as well as a receptionist to sort you if you wish to sell a ship. Past her, you can see where the main little selling pit is. It's a cluster of computer areas and tables for haggling, various ship spects pinned to the walls.
"Hey, Tir, what can we say about that ship?" asks Carthrat, snorting. "Got some handy adjectives to use?"
"Sure," Tir nods. "Like buy it and it's shiny," he shakes his head. "I'm not that great a haggler, I admit."
"Useless!"
Carthrat stomps off towards the market attendant. "Heya! I have a ship to sell. Who do I talk to?"
A rather corpulent alien gazes at you with lidless eyes, your reflection in his shiny whites. "A ship? You're in the right place - what's the make and specs?" he asks, prying right on in.
"It's a Karol-Class chassis," replies Carthrat, mentally pulling information out the back of his mind. "But the design isn't standard. There's a notable boost in armour and firepower, and the engines use a capacitator flux module instead of the usual ion thrusters. It actually travels faster this way; it uses a higher-grade fusion core, so the capacitators can do more capacitating instead of standard drive.
It'd make an excellent armoured transport vehicle, or even the perfect craft for a paranoid merchant."
He nods expeceptantly as you describe the ship. "It does sound interesting - what are the specifis on the firepower?" he asks, maaking mental calculations all the while.
"Four banks of Fusion Arrays," replies Carthrat. "They're versatile; if you convert power from the engines, they can become exceptionally heavy weapons. However, they also make a handy getaway gun."
"Well, if the inspection bears true...I could offer you around 200,000 credits for it," he ventures forth, smiling quite broadly and greasily.
"So, yeah, Tir, as I was saying," replies Carthrat, turning back to his friend. "Did you hear about the massive deflation in the value of the Credit?"
Hopefully, Tir was smart enough to play along..
Nodding a bit to go along, "Yeah. A single credit is just crazy there days."
The dealer doesn't let himself get mad, just rolling with things instead. "I'm sure that if your ship is everything you say it is, then perhaps we can deal with the price more then."
"Yeah. You missed a couple digits," notes Carthrat, dryly. "Will you be inspecting it yourself?"
"My associates will be," he says smoothly. "They can meet you at your ship whenever you are ready, Mr...?"
"Mr. Torin," replies Carthrat, sliding a glance at Tir. "This here is my associate, Nezumi-San," he continues, gesturing at the man himself.
"It is located at Docking Bay 3. I'll be there."
Tir nods briefly, sendingt Rat a momentary glance of annoyance at the name choice.
"Fine," he says. "We'll be over in an hour. Is that satsifactory, Mr. Torin?"
"It is," replies Carthrat. "An hour, then."
He turns and walks off, supurbly disdainful..
Falling in step with you, 'Nezumi-san' smirks a bit. "Mr. Torin," he asks quietly, a bit of a grumble there. "Wonderful originality, Carthrat."
"I'm not used to giving false names," replies Carthrat, snorting. "The universe is supposed to fear me! I'm not supposed to fear it!
I miss the good 'ol days.."
"Anyway, how much do you think you'll get him up to," Tir asks as you step out, relaxing a bit now.
"Several magnitudes more than two hundred thousand," replies Carthrat, snorting. "One thing I don't miss is haggling. I loathed it. That's why being a mercenary was so great. Everything was non-negotiable."
"A shame you can't set your own terms now," he agrees. "Maybe if you're lucky, we'll get enough to cover a good ship and not just a fancy getaway shuttle."
"The ship isn't really an issue," replies Carthrat, checking his watch. "With any luck, by the time we need to use it again, I'll have all the resources I need."
"Yeah," Tir agrees. "Did you want to head back to the ship now?" he asks, "since Rachel already went off on her own."
"Already? Huh. Yeah, we better go back, I can hook up to the network and get some relative prices of other ships, and of resources and tools. And you can shop for ships. You can't really be a worse merchant than me. Just think up a suitable price and stick to it. If it's a good deal, most people won't bother with the haggling. It's only those pedantic Gerkluns.."
Carthrat groans. "God, I hate them."
Chuckling, "And I'm sure they hate you too, Carthrat. I can just imagine you having to argue for hours about a price..."
Still amused, he heads on. "Think Rachel will have any luck?"
"Don't know," replies Carthrat. "There are plenty of people out there looking for something to believe in, though. Even if they don't know it."
He turns his face, an oddly whimsical smile playing across his lips as he glances at Tir. "And she has.. some indescribable quality," he continues. "It makes me want to protect her, and help her protect herself. I don't know much about her faith, or Selene, or anything.. just that I owe Her Godliness a debt, even if I can't worship her.
She has some kind of inner strength. It was dormant, but I'm hoping to draw it out. She'll be a better person for it. And the best way to learn things is to do things.."
Listening the entire time, Tir speaks a bit slower, less jokingly when you finish. "You think that much of her? I don't know myself - she's not inclined to show much around me, and she looks to be going through a rough time.
Then again," He smiles ever so slightly, "She hasn't tried to kill me and hasn't run off screaming from Soul Eater. That's something of note. Tenkai Star..." He smiles even more, thinking back. The word 'Tenkai' is alien to your ears, an unknown word from Lord only knows what tongue.
"I've seen what faith can do," muses Carthrat. "It can create unfeeling hatred. Vicious zealots. Crusaders. Templars. Whatever you call it. But it can create great compassion as well.
But most fervent followers have a disdain for logic and rationality. Diane showed me otherwise.. I'm hoping Rachel is, as well."
Tir nods once, still a bit bemused. "Diane - that's the woman you are after? What was she like to inspire such devotion, anyway?"
"Diane.. what can I say about Diane?" says Carthrat, glancing towards the holographic sky, musing over it.
"I didn't realise it right away, of course.. but when I fought with and left Shizue.. I was still expecting the same things I always had," he explains. "Just.. something else to show up. I was delirious, partially schizophrenic. I couldn't plan, my health was all set to spiral down the way of the drunkard.
But.. I don't know. Initially, she just presented me with a goal, a task. To find this," he continues, holding up White Glow to the bright, artificial lights of the station.
"And she travelled with me when I was trying.. guiding me, aiding me. She was.. almost like a parent. Maybe an aunt. I know she was older than me.
I'm an orphen. Always lived by my own wits. So it was strange.. to rely on someone else. And I was. If she'd vanished or left before I was close enough to reaching my goal.. I might've just given up then.
Of course, that wasn't what I was thinking about then. It was only afterwards, when I'd travelled back to Asia that I started thinking about myself. Maybe my mind is still playing tricks on me? I know that she's only human, like the rest of us. Psychology tells me that I'm probably inflating the image of her in my mind."
That familiar smile flickers across his lips. "But it's a nice image. I can live with that."
Tir walks along, not speaking for a while as you get close to the wide elevator leading back to the space docks.
"One person's kindness....you got damn lucky, Rat," he comments as you step onto the metallic, plain floor of the lift down. "Finding that one person you need when you need them the most is truly a sign of someone looking out for you."
Glancing at the window squares showing the great starry void beyond as you go down, "She's a priestess as well...maybe this Goddess was looking out for you. Can't imagine why," he lets himself slide back again, a slight smile, "but it looks to have worked out rather well."
"I don't even know what Selene is the goddess of," jokes Carthrat. "Or even why'd she'd be so interested in a scamp like me.
Hey, remember when you first moved in?" he asks, curiously. "What did you think of me back then?"
"You were a bit of a ruthless bastard, but not a terrible guy," he responds, shrugging. "You ran things more or less straight, though, so it spoke well enough of you."
The lift lands, down to the large hallway leading back to thie ships. Compared to above, it's rather bland and depressing down here.
"Weird. I never thought of myself as ruthless at the time," ponders Carthrat. "Just doing what I had to do, y'know? It just became habit, and you get detached from it.."
"It's funny how things like that work out," he agrees.
Reaching the ship shortly after as the conversation dies, you do a last minute prep for the arriving dealers. This takes up your time well enough, until your com buzzes. "Mr. Torin?" a staticy voice asks.
"That's me," replies Carthrat. "Are you the inspection team?"
"Yeah, from the guild," the voice goes on. Normal enough voice, crackled by some odd static. "Want to get this going, Mr. Torin?"
"Absolutely," replies Carthrat. "I'll open the hatch for you."
"Alright."
With that, the com dies, waiting for you to do said task.
Carthrat taps a few buttons. "Well, Nezumi-San, how good a bad accent can you manage?"
Tir pokes his head into the cockpit, a bit nonplussed. "I'll stick with my normal voice, thank you very much," he grumbles. "I don't need to sound fresh off the starship."
"Bah. You're no fun," notes Carthrat. "Well, you may as well shut up and let me talk, then."
"Sure," he agrees, coming in and sitting himself down on one of the chairs in the bridge. As he does so, a short little alien, big headed and gray bodied - that race that got seen publically back in the 50s and has been the base of too much Earth alien BS since - enters, a floating droid with him. "Mr. Torin?" she asks in a slightly raspy voice, explaining the static like sounds from the monitor.
"This is the main control bridge? Could I see one of the consoles?"
"Certainly," replies Carthrat, gesturing to the control banks. "Pick anyone you like."
Going over and seating herself, the alien pokes away at it, sending a steady stream of comments to the droid, who is recording them. It's mostly technical stuff, with a few comments. "Good armor" "Needs engine touchup", that sort of thing. This goes on for perhaps five minutes, before she's done. "Can I see the interior rooms now?"
"Of course," replies Carthrat, gesturing at a nearby hall. "The cargo bay, the living quarters, the workshop, it's all that way."
She goes along with you, inspecting each room and making more comments. All are reasonably positive, with no comments of doom. Once finished with that, she nods once to you. "Alright, I'll be back to my boss now. Come down later today and he'll be talking them."
"Right," replies Carthrat, checking his watch. "I'll be there."
With a final yes, the alien leaves. Once gone, "Think it went good?" Tir asks.
"Yeah," replies Carthrat. "There's nothing wrong with the ship or anything. And I'm pretty damn sure I got all the identifying marks.
Nothing to do now but plan ahead," he muses. "You've commanded people before, right?"
"I did lead a huge army, nearly a millenium ago," he shoots back, falling into old habits. "I can manage, sure."
"Heh. Still got the old touch?" Carthrat questions, smirking. "Overt warfare isn't really what I have in mind, y'know."
"I'll be fine," he agrees to that. "Going to try to stir up an army on Heli 3, or just bullshitting?" Tir asks you outright, thoug he can guess the answer already.
"Good grief, nothing so simple as that," replies Carthrat, rolling his eyes. "I'm going to run for office."
Tir stops cold, blinking. "Okay, Rat. You're not the type to try and get elected for no good reason. What's going on in that head of yours?" Tir inquires outright, having been beaned with a mental curveball. His face su pports this, a bit on the surprised side.
"It's simple," replies Carthrat. "Paranoia combined with practicality."
Carthrat pulls up a sheet of paper and sketches out a rough estimate of what he thinks the Heli system looks like. "Assume Slicing Gale is still after me. They'll probably be after you, too; mercenary groups tend to take time off from jobs to go and pulverise people they don't like.
We can solve the immediate problem of the chase simply by moving. Heli 3, in this regard, is as good a place as any. Better, in fact, because of the lack of centralized government on power base. It's harder to find someone when they're in the middle of a warzone full of many people who don't want to be found.
But if Slicing Gale is being paid to take me on, they'll find me, sooner or later.
If I'm in charge of a fucking planet, Tir, what're they gonna do to catch me? Galactic law will enable me to call in the cavalry if they even come within a parsec of my system. They can't touch me unless someone goes to war with me, and, quite frankly, if they do, well, the galaxy will be finding out just how ready it is to deal with some of the secret stuff I know.
Then there's the whole issue of finding Diane, which, I must remind you, is the whole reason I'm out here and not in my cozy apartment. I need to build some kind of gate. It's only in the theoretical stage, too. Tests need to be run. Prototypes need to be designed. I can't really expect to do it alone? Oh, I was arrogant once, but no more.
And if my base ideas are right, it's going to need a heck of a lot of power. Not to mention the structure itself will be pretty damn big.
It might not be the best way to go about it. The best way would be to hightail it to Telekineos, kick some ass, and get a research grant. But that's not something I'm doing, now or ever."
Carthrat stops, glancing up at Tir. "Any questions?"
"You think big," he comments when you finish, amused. "Now...I agree with going to Heli 3 for a few years or so until they get bored of being killed.
But ruling the entire planet?" Tir snorts loudly. "You're pretty good at what you do, Rat. But unifying that war zone? Say all you want about being in charge of a planet being useful, but good luck pulling it off."
Carthrat smirks. "I've got even more crazy ideas for you to hear, but they can wait.
Still, none of this would be necessary if *someone* didn't want to try pulling up a couple of metres from a star. Wuss."
"So you made it a grand scale suicide mission instead of a short little dive into a star," A touch of sarcasm follows his words, though it's not truly fiery venom.
"At least we won't be bored," he follows up.
"Well, if you come up with an idea, you're free to share it with me," replies Carthrat, wisely.
"Will do," he shoots back. "Anyway, did you want to head on down back to the guild now?" Tir asks lazily, "If not, I'd like to take a nap."
Carthrat pauses for a moment.
"Hey, Tir, just how old are you?" he asks, curiously.
He stops, turning to you. "About a thousand, give or take a couple of decades," he shrugs. "I've lost count of the exact years, but it's not really important." He sounds rather calm about it, as if saying he was a millenium old was just another order of business.
"Weird. Doesn't it ever.. y'know, get boring?" asks Carthrat, strangely. "A thousand years, give or take.. don't you see the same crap happening again and again and again, just with different paint?
I'm amazed you can stand it, now that I think about it.."
"It's funny - I thought you'd be right, way back. But..." he smiles. "Even if some of the events are more or less the same, the people are different.
I don't know if I'll ever truly get bored, but with all the nutcases about this universe, I rather doubt it."
Carthrat responds, quietly... "Weird. A thousand years and ennui hasn't struck at all. You're not even senile or anything. Just another young man walking down the street..
Get some sleep, then," he finishes. "Rachel should come back in a couple of hours.. I need to think."
With another shrug and a strange, small smile, Tir does just that. This leaves you alone in the ship to your own devices, your ancient friend napping away the next bit of sand in his hourglass of life.
Carthrat leans back in a chair, thinking on Tir, recent events, and life in general..
Longevity. Everlasting life. Immortality. Whatever you call it. And the mystery that was Tir. Such a strange figure when he thought about it. Not a pretentious person, nor a fawning one. A robust spirit, certainly. Hell, just to cope with the idea of a mass-slaughtered rune on the back of your hand took a man of pretty stern stuff.
Of course he didn't want it. At least, he showed no real signs of wanting it, despite the power that it brought. Power for it's own sake never really meant anything, anyway. Certainly not in my experience.
What has it ever done for me, anyway? Sure, kept me alive against difficult odds.. brought on by my own misuse. Then again, there was a time when I relished the idea.. the challenge, the intencity, the combat. Not so long ago, when I think about it. Still a young man yet. Plenty of boring people in the world my age..
I wonder where Rachel will be when she's my age? Going back to Earth.. could that be an option? By then, someone will have certainly intervened.. what am I even doing? I'm going to find Diane, of course.. but then what? Take her back to Earth? What Earth? It will likely be renamed.. recultured. Repopulated. But I won't be saving her from anything by going to her then..
All I can do is ride it out and see what happens. This galaxy is one fucked-up place..
But, first thing will come first. Heli 3.. what can't I do with it, once it's mine? It has plenty of scrap equipment.. loose parts.. salvage dumps. No organization. No enforcement. Give me three years, Selene, and I can give it those things. I can reforge it.. at least for a time.
At least I'm in charge, for once. Whoever is out there looking out for me, thanks for the help, I guess. But I should be able to see where I'm going, now. Hopefully you won't need to do much..
With a start, Carthrat sits bolt upright. "Damn.. it's late.."
Glancing at a monitor, you see that about and hour and a third have passed. The Guildkeepers should be ready for you to come back, and there isn't any sign of Rachel being back.
It's peaceful and quiet if anything, inviiting rest and contemplation.
Carthrat shakes himself up, and goes to rouse Tir.
"Get up, you old fart! There's work to be done!"
Stirring, Tir glares at you, but follows along as you two start walking. "To the guild?" Tir asks this, stretching out his arms to shake off his langour. His hand is gloved as always, not even taking it off when he rests.
"Yes," replies Carthrat, checking his watch. "It's about time. Then we can work on purchasing stuff.. though we'll still need to wait at the shipyard for Rachel to come back before that."
Going to the guild is without note. Oh, you pass a few bickering aliens and a trade delegation talking amoungst themselves, but it's nothing big. Entering the guild again, you find the corpulent alien boss from before waiting, going over a print out. "Mr. Torin," he calls. "I must say, I'm rather impressed with your ship - quite some capacity you have there."
Carthrat shrugs. "It's a useful ship, but I'm looking for a faster model," he explains.
He nods. "Well...I can see why." Drumming his fingers together, he speaks softly. "We don't deal with...this sort of ship here, if you understand. I can direct you to someone more malleable on this matter, if you wish."
"Perhaps that would be best," replies Carthrat, inwardly sighing. No amount of preperation would prevent him from reentering a world of illegitimacy..
Nodding, he goes on. "There's a room in back," he gestures at a door at the end, leading to some sort of back area, "You'll get directed from there.
Pleasure doing business with you, drop by if you have another ship." With that, he smiles fakely and moves on, back into his own world.
Carthrat sighs, and motions Tir. "You stay out here," he murmers. "Use your intuition, right?"
Tir nods as you go.
Going into the back room, you find a bare and simple set up, a few men chatting idly around a plastic table and chairs. They eye you, but wait for yo to do something before acting.
"I heard someone around here buys up ships," comments Carthrat, aloud. "Any of you fellows be quite so kind enough to direct me to him?"
Nodding, a rather plain and boring looking human with dull, rangly brown hair replies. "Yep. Got somethin' in mind, stranger?"
"Yeah. Nice little ship, I've got," replies Carthrat. "Looking to buy, too."
He eyes you, hands running down the sides of his shirt. "Well then, perhaps we can do some business. Got the specs?" he asks gruffly.
"That I do," replies Carthrat, producing a sheet of paper and handing it to the man.
"Yeah," he comments, snatching the paper and giving it a twice over. "Not too bad - what are you looking to buy? We might just do a straight trade if you aren't shootin' the moon."
"Fast, light, working condition, full rack of missiles, y'know, the usual," replies Carthrat. "Nexus-II engines, a Mk V Turbulator, and a powerful sensor array."
"Going to be working around customs," he asks, thinking. "Or just a runner ship?" Standing, he eyes you. "I have somethin' we can do a straight trade for, if you want."
"A *reusable* runner ship," replies Carthrat, with great emphasis. "At this point, customs don't bother me, but the ship better be *bloody* fast."
"You'll have to pay for extra fuel," he notes at that, but nods. "C'mon, I'll take you to the underdocks."
"Right," replies Carthrat, feeling a strange, sinking feeling again.
Once more unto the underworld, he thought.
Leading you out the back, you soon go into the back entrance of another building, this one sealed off from the front. A small lift is here, taking you down a few levels to a small, hidden dock housing at most four ships. Only one is here at the moment - hopefully the one he mentioned. It's indeed smallish but not tiny, with a certain space to it in a horizontal, almost hawkish design. It's gunmetal gray and unpainted at the moment, off the line.
"THis is a H-341 model Hyperion Star Cruiser," the agent goes on, smiling a bit. "It's the straight goods here - dual engines, warp drives, some missles and weapons, and even ship to surface teleportation." Grinning, "The Shirian empire just 'happened' to lose a few dozen of these before they got them," he nods. "Normally, this would go for enough credits to buy a moon, but...the weapons systems and armor plating have been stripped down, mainly relying on an energy shield system to protect it. It's not viable for military or brigand use anymore."
"I want a full deck of missiles," says Carthrat, glancing at the ship. "Can you refit it overnight? I don't care about the energy weapons; they're just used for painting targets.
Oh, yeah. Is the ship-to-surface teleportation a personal device or a shipwide device? Does it need a dock point?"
"With some credits, I can," he smiles just a bit, motioning. "It's a pad system - I'll show you around inside if you want."
"Yeah, I'll take a look," replies Carthrat, glancing about the thing. "Hmm. How many credits for a bank of swarm missiles?"
"Couple thousand," he shrugs. "I'll give you a break on 'em if you'll take this off of my hands," he sighs. "Between being stripped down and customs getting a tip I had this thing, I haven't been able to do shit with it."
"Yeah. You'll have a bounty on your head before you can blink," replies Carthrat, walking towards the ship.
Going to the hatch, "The entry code is 5329245, but you can change that in the internal computers," he notes, punching in said code as the door swishes open. "Up that way," he says, pointing to the nose of the ship, "Is the bridge, galley, quarters and small storage." Pointing the other way, "Ove there is space access, large storage, engine access and weapon bay access."
Not that you can see any of it, mind. This is just an entry room, with another door in front of you before you can go in, unpainted metal walls gleaming at you with dim but pleasant lights coming from the ceiling.
Carthrat carefully goes throughout the whole ship, checking over this and that.
"This is pretty decent. Load her up with some food, while you're at it. I can trust you to take care of details, right? I'll reimburse you before we leave."
"Yeah," he nods. The interior leads to a main hallway, with branching off areas leading ot each. Pretty typical, actually, the unpainted walls and ceiling lights being a fixture. The bridge is a three seater job, with a main seat and two other ones, on each side of the main seat. Along with the needed control panels and screens being projected right in front of the seats, it's a nice setup - totally sensor based.
The galley is nice enough, with a decent kitchen area and space. There are four living quarters room, each with four bunks. Plain, simple mattresses, really, the guide stopping here. "The quarters can also have access codes," he notes, showing you a panel by each door. "They aren't on right now, but if you need privacy..."
"I get the idea," replies Carthrat, glancing about. "It all seems to be in order, I guess. You've got the details for my ship, right? We've still got some stuff to move, so if you'll wait to grab it just before we leave?"
After a moment, he nods. "We can trade master command codes then," he decides. "So neither of can try anything...just in case," he says with a worn smile. "Just in case."
Carthrat rattles off a series of letters and digits. "I'm guessing you'll want to change them. I've already got some hacking software installed on the core, so that shouldn't be a problem."
Nodding, "Right. Alright, then, let's get things going. The credits for the upgrades..." On beginning at that, the rough nuts and bolts of getting things together begins. It takes a bit to straighten everything out, and costs you about three thousand credits. But it's done in a few hours - finally, a ship to call your own.
"Great. I'll need it in 24 hours," says Carthrat, checking his current C-Card balance. "Get it all prepped by then," he finishes, turning to walk back to Tir.
Meeting Tir outside of the dealer's office, he eyes you. "Find anything," he asks bluntly, "And how many of my credits did you blow?"
"Got ourselves a Hyperion," replies Carthrat. "Three thousand credits for missiles and supplies and crap. Worth it, eh?" he says, tossing the card back to Tir.
"Damn," he notes mildly, catching the card. "What model and make?"
"H-341," replies Carthrat. "He says it's a Star Cruiser. Damned overdramatic names.
I gotta buy me some guns, Tir. Those clunky plasma things are too damn big."
"H-34 fucking one?" Tir whips around to you. "That's the number of that new fleet the Shirians lost a year ago. That made a huge fuss - how the hell did you get your hands on one of those?"
"What, a year ago?" says Carthrat, shocked. "Well, shit. I though it was five or six or something.
I dunno where the goon got it from, but he seemed poised to get rid of it awful fast.
I have this horrible feeling I've gone and blundered, Tir. Where's the nearest Shiran system?"
"Not for a ways, I think," he replies, mind working. "They don't have much of an influnce around here nor in any of the neighboring systems. Too far from there power bases and too close to other power bases."
"What power bases are we close to, anyway?" says Carthrat, sighing. "Aren't we out in the proverbial styx?"
"Nothing in this system besides the Merchant's guild," Tir says. "I think. It's just too distant for much besides that to have any sway - settlers haven't made it this far by and large."
"We should be fine," says Carthrat, pondering. "There's always the chance a Shiran corvette might chance across us, though.
This ship isn't built for fighting, Tir. It's been adjusted to make best use off it's speed. I got missle banks installed, but they won't last forever, so we better pray we don't need to use them.
On the plus side, there's a teleporter in the ship. We should be able to use it as a base of operations indefinately. Snazzy, huh? If nothing else, we can jury-rig a fancy getaway.."
"It's something," Tir comments. "And a teleporter isn't too shabby, though I wish it had more weapons." At that, he smirks just a bit. "Since we'll likely get into no end of trouble at this rate."
"We can run away and find a more favourable location," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Unless you have hidden superpiloting talents I didn't know about?"
Just shaking his head, "Anyway....what's the ship's name," he asks, not really wanting to dwell on his piloting skills at the moment.
"I thought we'd call it the 'Exodus'," replies Carthrat, nodding.
Tir outright laughs at that, shaking his head. "Just had to go for a meaningful name, Rat?" he jibes a bit, not unkindly.
"It sounded better than 'Escape Vessel #2'," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Got any better ideas?"
"How about...The...." Tir shakes his head, sighing. "No, all the good names I can think of wouldn't mean anything to you, anyway."
Carthrat raises an eyebrow. "Well, like, whatever. We gotta head back to the docks and see if Rachel is back.
She *should* be by now.."
Nodding, but still frowning a bit, "Yeah, let's go."
Carthrat goes, humming a tune.
o/"Help! I need somebody/Help! Not just anybody/Help! Y'know I need someone..o/"
On going back to the docks and your soon to be sold ship, you don't find Rachel anywhere about. "Did she get held up," Tir muses idly, rubbing his gloved hand.
"How should I know?" replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Come to think of it, I never did tell her when to get back.. man. We should be more careful," he notes. "How long has it been?"
"At least three hours," he ventures, before reaching into his pocket and checking a hand held computer. "No, closer to three and a half." Shrugging, "She probably just got sidetracked or stopped for a meal. She looks as if she can take care of herself."
"Yeah, I hope so," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "There's nothing for it, I guess. Start unloading our crap. If she doesn't show up in an hour, I'll go looking for her."
"C'mon," he nods. The two of you begin to do just that for about twenty minutes...before the growing warmth on your chest distracts you. White Glow is softly pulsing, it's light soothing yet worrisome.
A string of expletives leap from Carthrat's mouth.
"Ugh. Tir, keep unloading," he says, stalking off the ship. "Damned amulet.."
Tir nods, mutely watching as you storm off.
On exiting, you feel drawn to the lift to the main area....strangely, strongly pulled, almost.
Carthrat walks towards the lift, concious of the fact that he only has one weapon, which is both large and slow; not a good combination for a single man going into the unknown.
Acutely aware of his own vulnerabilities, he nonetheless presses on..
Heading up the faux blue sky main area, you can hear the wail of a siren JUST as your lift stops. "Emergency situation Alpha. Repeat, Emercency situation Alpha! All security report to sector A-12!" From farther on, there seems to be a helluva ruckus near a building, a small crowd of spectators....
Carthrat whistles, wondering if Rachel is involved.
"Naah.. couldn't be, there's enough freaks in this world without her getting involves," he muses, heading towards the disturbance.
On approaching a small eatery inside with glass windows, White Glow seems to burn hotly now. And...you can see inside, thanks to said windows. Two armed men, with large plasma spreaders and backpacks, are holed up inside. They both look slightly uncertain, however...as a familiar face is talking to them quickly and fervently. At her feet is an injured man, plasma burns over his body.
Carthrat peers inside the window, curious.
Checking his rifle, he doesn't act straightaway, moving to the back of the crowd and using his height to peer over and check ouit what's going on.
Rachel seems to be trying to convince the two gunners to do something. From their uncertain, unbalanced looks, she's having some effect.
Carthrat realises that guards are going to arrive any second now, and he glances around to confirm his suspicions.
Security agents, in armor jackets and stun rifles hastily donned, are indeed starting to approach at a run.
Rachel continues to plead with them...and to your suprise, one of the men just nods, taking off his weapon and pack, tossing them to the floor. White Glow continues to burn all this time...
Carthrat eyes the other man, moving back and across from the crowd in order to get a clear line of sight towards him.
The other man glares at his comrade, but continues listening to Rachel as you get a clear line of sight.
Carthrat hangs around and watches what happens.
As you continue to watch, White Glow virtually burns a hole in your shirt. So hot that it's actually painful, the artifact is glowing full tilt...
Still talking, Rachel seems to be getting through to him as the security forces really arrive, cutting through the crowd. On seeing them, the one remaining freaks, pointing his weapon out at them, through the windows, while security begins to react in kind...
Carthrat clutches the artefact in one hand, unable to concentrate on what's going on.
"Ah.. What is in store for us?" he spits out, almost thankful that everyones attention is on the scene in front of him..
As your hand is painfully seared by White Glow, the scene in front of you becomes one of chaos. As he is about to fire, the man is cut down by four blasts from security, falling down and back in crumpled heap from the stun rifles. At this, the other, dearmed gunner stares at his fallen comrade, moments later being stunned shotted as well.
After this, a rush of activity inside as security swarms in, beginning to deal with the matter. White Glow goes strangely cold and icy at this, the heat instantly gone.
Carthrat continues to clutch the artefact, breathing heavily.
"Rachel!" he shouts, feeling that he's missed something crucial. "Rachel!"
He rights himself and stalks towards the scene, intent on finding the woman..
Amid the rush of station security charging in, your shouts are lost. As the men secure the two downed problems and sort through the poor souls inside, Rachel's eyes happen on you. With a momentary, relieved smile, she turns away, dealing with questioning security.
After that, she kneels next to the burned victim, words spilling from her mouth.
Carthrat grabs a station guard; preferably an officer of some kind.
"Who are those people?" he asks, brusqley.
"A problem," the security agent holding perimeter guard says, glancing at you. "One that we've got under control. Please return to your previous activities, sir."
"That girl is a friend of mine," hisses Carthrat. "Make sure she's allright."
With a curt nod, "We are procuring the safety of all the hostages," he notes, as body armored men begin to sort through the mess in there, stopping and staring as Rachel's hands glow, healing magic springing to save the plasma victim...
Carthrat raises an eyebrow.
They better not think she's an accomplice..[/i]
The crowd inside and out takes sight of Rachel, the healing arts grabbing attention. "Holy shit," a man near you swears, stunned. "Is that some sort of new medica?"
Shit, this place isn't magic-trained. This is going to have reprecussions.. if they try anything with Rachel, I'll have to intervene..
Carthrat nervously fidgets, hoping for the best.
The inside security watches on, a brief conversation taking place between them. As Rachel rises, two come around her, speaking to her...Nodding once with a final glance down at the saved man, they lead her out back, along with the two prisoners.
Carthrat stalks after Rachel, intentionally making his presence felt; that coat casts a big shadow, after all.
"Hey! Are you allright?" he asks, loudly.
The entryway is blocked by three security men keeping order who aren't budging, but you can still get fairly close. Rachel glances up as she walks back, giving you a quick nod.
"Hey, don't stir it up or we'll haul you in," one of the security agents warns.
"When will she get out?" yells Carthrat, angrily. The nerve of these people!
With a rough shrug, "Hell if I know," the same security agent replies, blocky face uninterested. "If she was causin' trouble, it'll be onna labor ship."
"Where's the station?" demands Carthrat. "Where can I find out?"
"It's on the upper deck," he gestures upwards. "Have someone take you once things calm down."
"Right," mumbles Carthrat, turning around and asking some sap for directions.
On the opposite side as the dock lift, the upper areas lift is straight ahead. Or that's what the cynical older man whom you ask tells you, still paying more attention to the clean up than you.
At this point, the few remaining employees are being taken out, while the owner is having a slight row with the security agents.
Carthrat walks up to near the owner an eavesdrops on the conversation (making absolutely no effort to be inconspicuous).
Considering the state of things, they certainly don't stop for you.
"I don't care! You know how much this will take to fix! You're paying for it!" he shouts, the captain of the group sighing as the little, mustached man makes a scene.
Carthrat raises an eyebrow.
Sure, the guard had fired stun blasts, but they were stun blasts, not explosive things that make a mess. Shouldn't he be heckling to get the goons sued or something?
Well, it wasn't really his business, so he started heading towards the security post instead.
The security lift is a short walk away, the large thing unpainted and metallic. The upper decks are three interconnected floors of the station, with smaller elevators and escalators to take you about. This area is mostly plain and administrative, with no frills like an artificial sky.
Rather dull if anything.
Security seems to be on the third floor...
Carthrat mentally prepares himself for paperwork and beuarcracy as he continues to navigate his way towards the security joint.
It's a large block on the third floor, a reception desk just outside of the door. With a video computer setup and such, a slightly bored looking professional girl mans it, typing away.
Carthrat stalks up to the receptionist.
"Excuse me, have you got a moment?" he asks in a neutral tone.
"Sure," she glances up, voice unnotable and flat - a 'bot of a sort. Whomever did it went for the realistic look. "What is it you need?"
"I'm looking for information on the scuffle down near the shopping district," says Carthrat. "Namely, information on the people involved."
"Hold on," she says, typing. "What reason do you have for it? This information is currently under investigation."
"The girl involved is a shipmate of mine," replies Carthrat. "I need to know if she'll be free to leave today."
More clattering away on the keyboard, metal hands working away. "You may request to talk to the Captain, should this matter pertain to you."
"I'll do that, then," replies Carthrat.
"Please wait, then." Of note, there aren't even any chairs about, the 'bot going back to business.
"How long?" snaps back Carthrat, irritably.
"The Captain is currently busy. Estimated 1-5 hours." is the reply, as the robot pays more attention to the computer consol. "He is currently meeting with the prisoners."
"Is the girl classified as a 'prisoner' or a 'witness'?" asks Carthrat.
"Witness," is the reply after a few seconds. "The Captain is speaking with the witnesses shortly."
"Will she be free to go once he's done?" replies Carthrat.
"That will be dependant," the thing works on. At least it does it's job well enough, you suppose. "On the judgment of the Captain."
"Who's the Captain?" spits back Carthrat, *already* hating the guy.
"Captain Nergal Ri'Gar," is the reply. "Is currently inverviewing suspects. Please wait...."
Carthrat taps his foot and walks around for about ten minutes.
Ten minutes pass, with no acklodgement from the secratary. Though...a uniformed man, from the scene and still in his gear, walks by and inside. A sour expression is on his face, as if he just got something he really didn't like.
Carthrat glances at the mans outfit, looking for a sign of rank.
There are some symbols on the outer armor, but you don't reconize them offhand. He stops at the secretary, "Is the Captain back yet?" At a yes reply, he nods and begins to head inside.
"Hey, who're you?" asks Carthrat, catching the man on the shoulder.
Glancing back, "Name's Mills," he grunts, giving you a momentary glance up/down. "Need something?"
"Yeah. I gotta see one of the witnesses," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Preferably today, but I'm starting to have doubts."
"Eh...'pends on the Captain," he shrugs. "I'd go have lunch, it'll be at least an hour with the paperwork even if she's completely innocent." AT taht, he turns and goes inside.
Carthrat stalks outside the security station, a considerably barrage of expletives lancing from his throat.
He heads towards the nearest pay-comm-booth he can find and pages the ship back on the landing bay, in hopes of getting Tir..
"Yeah," Tir answers a few seconds later, a cup of water in hand. "Rat? What's up?"
"Paperwork," replies Rat, flatly. "Rachel's being held as a witness by the security dump for some incident down in the shopping district. Dunno when she's gonna get out."
"Damn," Tir notes, shaking his head. "Perfect timing. Okay...I can handle this on this end, just get her out of there."
"I'm gonna do some shopping, and come back to the station in a hour," replies Carthrat. "We're getting some sleep before we leave, remember, so don't worry so much about timing. Just if they decide to keep as an 'extended witness' or something.."
"Yeah," he nods. "If they do, we'll have to...well, do something. Either that or we'll sit here and get screwed."
"Yeah. Slicing Gale could show up any moment. Be careful, Tir," replies Carthrat, checking his current balance.
"You be careful," he says, suddenly grim. "I'm not at risk for my life, no matter how hard they try." Recallling a week ago solemnly, "Get her out of there tonight, Rat. If we have to show down Slicing Gale here, it'll be a catasrophe."
"Yeah," replies Carthrat, softly. "I'll be seeing you."
With that, the vidscreen goes dark. It's just yourself at the moment, now.
Carthrat stalks back down to the market area, grabbing a burger and munching on it.
He looks around for a military excess place..
The 'burger' you get isn't beef by any means, but it's not really bad. Just oddly different and gamey. Anyway, you do note a general sales s hop that deals in legal weapons.
Carthrat strolls into the gun joint, and looks for.. a motion scanner.
It's a smallish store packed to the gills with hopefully reliable gear - mostly weapons, but a few other things as well. But alas, a motion scanner like you seek is not among the goods offered.
"What sort of dump doesn't have a motion scanner?" mutters Carthrat, looking around for any items of particular note.
It's mostly discount and used low grade energy weapons, stun lasers, a few actual bullet or projectile firearms, and so forth. Also, there is a nice military belt, with twelve small pouches to carry ammo or supplies in.
Carthrat grabs the belt and hunts down a few knives, in the combat, throwing, and swiss variety.
You end up with the belt and five knives, all of passable quality. Nothing great, but certainly usable. The owner behind the counter keeps an eye on you, a bulky looking alien with green skin and more scars than you can count. Looks like an ex-merc.
Carthrat skips all the expensive energy weapons and starts poking around the projectile area for some good, solid, preferably Earth-build .45 caliber pistols.
It's not a big pile - nothing Earth made, but plenty of usable guns. A .45 or so is easily procured, as well as up to 150 bullets.
Carthrat checks the clip size on the gun, along with checking out the make and age and worthiness of the weapon.
It looks to be of decent make, a few years old and with some use. Not bad on the whole, not a show piece either. It's a six bullet clip, standard set up.
Carthrat throws the gun away and looks for one with a not-tiny-clip.
Searching, you find a somewhat smaller gun, with a ten bullet clip. It's in slightly worse shape but still usable.
Carthrat decides that this place sucks and doesn't bother buying a gun, instead just walking up to the counter to pay for the stuff he just took.
It comes to a few hundred credits - not bad, not great. The man takes your C-card with a surly grunt, ringing the transaction swiftly. "Come back, you."
Carthrat stalks outside the shop, safe in the knowledge that he's now armed...
..with knives. Well, what was it they say? Guns for show, knives for the pro..
Lies! All lies!
Carthrat takes a trip to a hardware store and looks for a good multitool.
There is one - the best multitool you can find is passable, but not a supertool of doom + 5. Still, with nine functions and modes, it's not too bad.
Carthrat grabs and buys the tool, confident that with it, no obstacle is insurmountable!
Buying it is a simple matter, having eaten up more time. It's been a decent amount of time since you were at the security desk.
Carthrat heads back to the security desk, hoping to run into Rachel along the way.
No such luck - though, as you arrive, you find the same bot out there, as well as a few departing security agents - identifyable only by the fact they all wear the same black military style pants. Otherwise, they've switched to plainclothes.
Carthrat gives the security guards a wary glance as he approaches the bot..
"What's the word on the girl?" he asks, without preamble.
The bot looks up. "Clarify, please."
"The girl associated with the earlier incident who was taken in as a witness," replies Carthrat, rolling his eyes. Stupid bots.
A nod, as it types on it's computer. "Witness Rachel Lees is currently being held as she is being questioned."
"How frickin' long does it take?" asks Carthrat, amazed at how quickly his mood can dissolve into anger and irritation.
"An estimation is not avaliable, though, it is expected she will be released before the end of the day." In it's reply, it is utterly unhelpful and more interested in it's computer.
But as it types, "Carthrat?" Rachel says, just coming outside. She looks markedly pale and tired, but otherwise intact.
"Heya, Rachel," says Carthrat, raising an eyebrow. "You look like you could use some sleep."
"Yeah," she agrees tiredly, running a hand through her hair. "I'm exhaused...but I'm alright otherwise." Glancing behind her, "Those poor men won't be yet, but hopefully in time..."
"Are you free to go?" asks Carthrat, glancing around the security booth. "'cos these places get me all edgy."
No guessing why *that* was.
"I am," she nods, glancing back at the 'receptionist' herself. "I doubt they're going to bother much with the formality of a trial, they'll likely just be setenced by the magistrate commander here." She sighs at that. "Though, at least they said he was a fair man. Those two deserve a second chance."
"What did they do?" replies Carthrat, getting *out* of that booth and heading back to the ship.
AS you walk, "It's a very long story, of which I only know some of." Sighing again, "And...it's a story for another day, I think. At least they didn't succeed...."
Carthrat shrugs. "Doesn't matter," he muses. "A fair magistrate. That's good. That's in their favour. All people care about is what you did in this joint. Your morality or anything has no bearing..
But since they didn't really do whatever it was, they'll probably get off lightly. That's just the way these sortsa places work."
"Heh." Rachel half snorts, sounding far older than she normally does. "It's a blessing they failed..it would have been a waste indeed."
Carthrat gives Rachel an amused glance. "You sounded like Diane for a moment there," he says, chuckling. "Right down to the voice.
Does that mean you're growing up?"
That gets Rachel to stop and stare at you for a few moments. "Really?
I guess maybe I am," she shrugs, too weary to really even debate it. In fact, after that, the mood is ruined as she yawns rather expansively. "Still not as good at magic as she is, though. A simple invocation drained more of my vitality than I care to admit."
Carthrat waves her off. "Skills can be taught, but an attitude is something you're born with," he says. "As long as you're on the right track, you'll just keep going down it, I reckon."
Rachel nods, wincing back another yawn as you get closer to your ship. "Yes...and on another note, how did your end of things go today?" Rachel asks, moving the subject away from herself.
"I got another ship," replies Carthrat, shrugging. "Hopefully we'll be able to use it without tossing it out this time."
A murmur of agreement as you reach your ship, the rather metallic and dim docking bay giving way to the...pretty much the same stolen shuttlecraft. Tir is inside, giving both of you a quick once over.
"What was all that about," he asks simply, interested.
"A waste of time and too much beauacracy," replies Carthrat. "Have you got our junk unloaded?"
"Just about," he grunts, turning his full attention to you. "Are the both you about ready?"
"No!" replies Carthrat, cheerily. "Shall we be off?"
Tir just blinks at you once, before dismissing it. "Guess so," he finally says, stepping up. "Lead the way to your new ship, Carthrat."
Carthrat stalks off towards his new ship. "Well, it should be loaded up and everything. With any luck, we'll get a clean path out."
"Still going to leave tomorrow," Tir asks, as Rachel lingers by Carthrat's side. The dull elevator passes by, to the more serene and pleasing trade center. It's nearly dusk by it's timing, even little street lamps coming on.
Such a try at a planetside view. It's not even a bad try.
"Probably. I still need to buy a gun," notes Carthrat. "These plasma rifles just don't put out the way I need them too.
And they're so damned *big*! I mean, dude. You've got a better chance of smuggling an elephant past an ivory hunter than getting these through an airport."
"Get us to our new s hip and get going, then," Tir notes, as Rachel yawns and slowly leans on Carthrat. She looks on the border of dozing off... Glancing over at that, Tir starts to smirk, before just turning away. "'Sides, you can bring back dinner."
Carthrat snorts. "Whatever," he replies, starting to walk back to the hidden shipyard.
It's a short trip to the dock from here. Tir goes on, while Rachel half stumbels the rest of the way. On arriving in the hidden little spaceport, "So that's it," Tir eyes it, carefully. "You were right, Rat. How the hell did that end up around here?"
"Don't know. You're on bugging detail," says Carthrat, grinning. "Get searching."
"Yeah, fuck you too," he snorts, laughing a bit. "I'll get Rachel inside first, at least - don't take too long with dinner. I'm hungry." Reaching out and helping the almost asleep girl away from 'Rat, he leads her to the door. "Oh, what's the entry code?"
"26725570199233HJLM6ABG9@#," replies Carthrat.
"I think it's stuffed, change it to something nicer."
"Right," he says, a bit caustically. "Anyway, get going." At that, he heads to the ship, leaving you to do your own thing by yourself.
Carthrat goes in search of CHINESE TAKEOUT.
It takes a bit of searching to find what seems to be the only close to oriental food place in the station - a nice eat in place.
Carthrat goes in search of TAKEOUT!
The best place you find is a alien place - deals in meaty soups with strange, tangy broths. Smells good as you approach, notably.
Carthrat goes to the counter.
"I'd like, hmm, that, that, that, that, and that. Times five. How long?"
"Half an hour," is the reply, buy a strange, shaggy alien creature. Looks tall and fearsome...
"It's a lot of soup to cook - you feeding an entire merchant vessel?"
"Yes," replies Carthrat, nodding. "We feel it's time to splurge on something, because we've been running at a deficit for three months, now."
HE blinks at that, great furry eyebrows covering his eyes. "It's your money," he shrugs, going to get to work. It does smell good as he gets started - like beef stew only stronger and more fragrant.
Carthrat inhales the fumes, grabbing a newspaper and reading up on current events.
Costs a few credits for the computer-epaper, nothing notable. Most of it is info on the station and fluff, with a medium sized 'other worlds' section.
Earth is on it - It look as if China got nuked rather severly, while their missles were stopped somehow. Looks like Tir might've been right. There is a general points bullient by the Galactic police to stay off and away of Earth until further notice.
Carthrat blinks.
China? That sucks. Got more culture than half the world combined. And it's where half those martial arts freaks came from, too. This whole galaxy ain't gonna be the same without it.
Reading on, you see a bit more about Earth. It looks like the various empires in the area are eyeing it, but no one is making a move yet. There is also an exodus of people getting the hell off the planet under these circumstances.
Various interests are being sold or liqiufied there, etc.
Carthrat raises an eyebrow.
Should I tell Rachel? She has a right to know, and all.. damn. Now she has no place to go back to when all this is done.
Come to think of it, neither does Diane.. and if it weren't for her, I'd probably still be there.
What a stroke of luck..
That's about it on Earth, the order getting cooked up as you read. The rest of the inter planetary news is relatively minor, of no great note.
The owner comes to the counter again, glancing at you as you sit nearby. "Hey, you come from Earth? Heard it's getting nuked pretty bad."
"Yeah," replies Carthrat. "I lived there for the better part of the last decade.
It sorta grows on you. Now it'll never be the same.."
"Yeah," he says, leaning on the counter. "Visited there once - nice place, even if I had to spring for a holo suit. Surprised it lasted so long with everyone squatting there."
"People go there to get away," replies Carthrat, smiling a little. "You can't help but calm down there, somehow.
It was never the people there. It was always the Earthlings themselves. The question I'm asking now, though.. is it the Earthling who need to prepare themselves for the universe, or vice versa?"
An image of Shizue flickers across his mind..
"Both," he replies, shuffling a moment to get a stool nearby and sit. "Earthlings are too warlike in some ways...but I think they'll balance out in time.
After all, you're sitting right here, and by my eyes, you're a Terran."
Carthrat snorts. "Earthlings are no more warlike than the rest of the galaxy. They're just more contained.
And I'm not what you'd call a 'balanced' Terran."
"If you say so, bub," he says, relenting a bit. "Don't see too many Terrans out this way, though. It's mostly those half humans and pointy ears." Enjoying himself, he calls back, "Do the soup order for me, Rolf! Busy up here."
"We're everywhere," replies Carthrat, chuckling. "You'll never find a system without a Terran in it. I wonder where they all came from."
"What's the phrase - "Terrans came from those cockroaches, not apes'?" The owner opines. "No...You ones who get off Earth do get around. Maybe it's because Earth looks so tiny once you get off it, that you have tos ee what's going on elseware?"
"I've seen everything," replies Carthrat, blandly. "I'm from Telekineos. Earth was just an extended side trip."
"No shit," he looks up at you. "I've been there - you're a university boy, ar eyou," he guesses, knowing that the majority of people there are just that.
"Damn straight," replies Carthrat. "Dux of the university, Galactic Year 7762," he says. "When I got the award, I spent a full hour laughing with my wife at the Gargorians. Apparently, 550% increased neural capacity isn't enough to beat a 'C+ average *TERRAN*."
He grins. "Good for you," he chuckles. "Good for you. Anyway...so what brings you around these parts?"
"My sudden and unexpected success as a merchant," replies Carthrat, cheerily. "Sold off a boatload of Quantum Cores and I've decided to take the time to enjoy myself a little. I'm headin' off from here to Velsper IV."
He nods, "Hold on..." he says, going back into the kitchen area. A few minutes later he returns, a helper helping him carry a few bags full of sealed soup. "Here you go, 98 credits total."
Carthrat swipes his Credit Card. "Thanks, friend. Say thanks to the chef for me," he says, walking back to the ship.
With your hot, steaming dinner, you head back to the ship dock. It's an uneventful trip, as 'sunset' spreads over the main section.
On arriving, you find Tir inside at the kitchen area, idly sitting and waiting. Rachel isn't anywhere in sight, presumably asleep. "Hey," he glances up, sniffing. "Smells good."
"Chow down," replies Carthrat. "I got lots, because I know you like to eat."
And thus, the meal goes. It's not bad on the whole, quite edible. As you wind down a nice dinner, "So...off to another world, to get one step closer to that dimensional portal of yours."
Tir glances at you, while subconciously holding his metal gloved hand. "Should be a ride, at least."
Carthrat shrugs. "I've got that much planned," he says. "But have you read the paper recently? Earth has gone to hell, and how!
China is but a smoking crater, and refugees are coming in droves.."
Tir mutters something dark under his breath, putting down his spoon. "Figures. China got nuked to hell afterall. What about the rest of the planet? The US lording over it now that China's toast?" Frowning, you can feel his mood wilting rather quickly.
"It wasn't mentioned," replies Carthrat. "I assume, however, that the whole world is pretty fucked up by now.
I don't know what I'm gonna tell Rachel."
Leaning back thoughtfully, "At the moment...nothing. It can wait, Rat. If we're going to be stuck on this isolated rock for awhile, she won't hear about it until it's resolved fully.
Rachel has enough on her mind already."
"You think?" says Carthrat, musing. "I don't know, Tir. I've always felt it's better to get this sort of thing out the way as soon as possible.."
He shrugs. "It's up to you - do you think it would help her or hurt her to hear about this right now?"
"It'll always hurt," replies Carthrat, creasing his brow. "It's just a question of when."
He nods, glancing at his bowl. With that, he rises. "And I'll leave that in your capable hands," Tir annouces. "Good luck either way."
"I'm not that great at this whole 'talking' thing," snorts back Carthrat. "I'll procrastiate. It's what I'm best at."
INdeed, there really isn't anything to do now, anyway, except sleep. Tir seems to have gone to do just that, Rachel already doing so.
Carthrat doesn't decided to sleep just yet.
Instead, he heads towards the cockpit of the ship, and turns on the main generator. He leaves the engine and flightgear off, of course, but just wants the craft active for now.
Once he does that, he runs a basic diagnostic on the ship.
The dianostic goes without incident. Everything looks to be in good shape and maintained, no errors or problems reported. Fast, too, as it only takes about 15 minutes to do a full ship scan.
Makes sense, as this would likely have a respectably powerful CPU core to it.
Carthrat leaves the ship turned on; better to have it going straight away in the event of a crisis.
Heading back to the dorms, he stretches out on a bed.
I need a cigarette..
Sleep comes slowly, but it is like a deep abyss once you do. Plunging into the black depths of slumber, Carthrat dreams...
Dreams of a girl alone...of a world alone...of a sad cry by many...who were abandoned. Yet you cannot feel disturbed by it, only a strong sense of having escaped, even when you wake up to Rachel's gentle shaking...
"..wha? Did I oversleep?" mumbles Carthrat, pulling himself up.
"It's morning," Rachel nods. "You've been asleep for quite awhile now." Indeed, as the fog of sleep recedes, you do feel well rested.
"What time is it?" mumbles Carthrat, pulling himself out of bed.