>>812350
FUCK YEAH
Ive been here for the first tweo threads then I lost you, so I will read the last three and rejoin here :)
I really like your storytelling! Keep it please up

>>812350
> diplomatic incident blah blah
What a disgusting display of small town mentality.
Oh, and then blast him with force lightning with our new shaman powers.

>>812392
>shaman powers.
See, assumptions like that will only lead to deadly things when the time to investigate that stuff arrives.

>>812350
>>"Do you really want to bring this kind of shame on your clan?" (play on his cultural heritage)
>”Why don’t you go bother someone else?” (dismissive)

>”Do you really want to cause trouble with someone who has diplomatic immunity?” (show him your deputy diplomat badge)

>>812350
>”We were just about to leave.” (try to de-escalate the situation)
I don't think he'll give a shit if we're ambassadors or not.

File: Vadim.png (1.13 MB, 1920x1090)

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“Do you really want to cause trouble with someone who has diplomatic immunity?” You raise an eyebrow smugly and retrieve the deputy diplomat badge that Blackheart had given you.

However, once you hold it up, Vadim merely grins and laughs. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” he says. Then, he flicks the badge dismissively. “First off, I ain’t a cop. And secondly, I’m not impressed by a badge that some ambassador probably just gave you because you did a favor for them.” He crosses his arms.

“Excuse me?” You look at your badge, then at him. As far as you know, the badge gives you the same authority as a diplomat.

He then leans in with a smirk on his face, inspecting the badge for himself. “I’ve never even heard of Reznor’s Pride. Probably a shithole colony that just gives those out to anyone.” Then he steps back and covers his mouth in mock shock. “What, did you actually believe I’d give a damn about some deputy diplomat? You’re not from anywhere that matters, so why should I care?”

You notice that some of the guests at the culture festival have begun to stare, including some of the aliens. “Look,” you grumble at Vadim. “I am a diplomat of Reznor’s Pride, and you’ve been messing with my assistant. You can do one of two things,” you step toward him and pocket your badge. “You can either leave now, or apologize.”

Vadim looks stunned for a moment, then the smug expression returns as he laughs at you. “Wow, you really think you’re important, don’t you?” He then crosses his arms and sighs. “I guess some people never learn their place.” He cocks his right arm back and swings forward, throwing a wicked right hook at your face.

You move to dodge it, but it’s been years since you boxed. Not to mention the fact that Vadim must be a boxer, because you barely see his fist before it is right in front of your face. However, just before his fist makes contact, Vadim stops. He then raises an eyebrow at you and laughs again.

“Well look at you,” he grins. “You don’t scare easy.” He drops his hand to his side and steps forward, getting in your face. “I don’t like when people don’t scare easy.”

>”Look, there doesn’t have to be a scene today.” (try to de-escalate the situation)
>”You just let your guard down.” (punch him in the face)
>”This is a pretty shameful display from a son of the Van Damen Clan.” (play on his culture)
>”We’re done here.” (dismissive)
>Write-in.

>>812595
>”This is a pretty shameful display from a son of the Van Damen Clan.” (play on his culture)

>>812595
>>”This is a pretty shameful display from a son of the Van Damen Clan.” (play on his culture)

>>812595
>”We’re done here.” (dismissive)

I have a feeling he don't give a damn about societal shame, considering this probably ain't the first time he's done this

>>812595
>”You just let your guard down.” (punch him in the face)

>>812595

>”You just let your guard down.” (punch him in the face
Byt mybe not hit him just do what he did to you or pull a gun on him with the other hand well fake hitting him.
Also tell him what you only like people that flitch becouse you cant handle any one better then you; you has no balls

I'll wait ten more minutes for a tibreaker, then roll a 1d2.

>>812595
>”This is a pretty shameful display from a son of the Van Damen Clan.” (play on his culture)
This. I don't want to get beat up in front of Corrigan and the space elves :(

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You take a step back, shrugging and raising your eyebrows. “You know, this is a pretty shameful display from the Van Damen Clan.” You chuckle at Vadim. “It doesn’t reflect well on your elders.”

Vadim’s smirk instantly disappears. You hear some people murmur in the crowd. He scowls at you. “How dare you…” He steps back, glancing at the crowd that has begun to gather. He then walks right up to you again. “How dare you bring my clan into this…” He gets so close that you can see how bloodshot his eyes are. “You know nothing about my clan.”

“The Van Damens practically run Ganymede,” you reply casually. “And they’re one of the largest Missile Clans in the Empire.” You shrug. “And I’m sure your clan wouldn’t appreciate the fact that you’re harassing people and abusing your name.”

With that, Vadim sighs and closes his eyes, grimacing. “Perhaps you are right, tourist.” He then turns around and begins to walk away. “However, should I ever learn your name, I will challenge you to a duel.” He then grunts and pushes his way through the crowd, leaving you and Corrigan standing in front of the Psirinean booth.

You glance over to her as she sighs with relief, then the crowd that had gathered disperses just as quickly. The culture festival goes back to the way it had been a mere five minutes ago.

“That was difficult to watch,” Corrigan says as she returns to your side. “Now do you understand my disdain for them?”

“I do,” you reply with a sigh. “What a creep.” You chuckle to yourself.

“Though I am surprised you decided to bring his clan’s name into the argument,” Corrigan continues. “That was probably the best thing you could have done. It is something of a taboo in the Empire to discuss one’s clan like that.” She grins mischievously. “But it is an even bigger taboo to dishonor one’s clan publicly.”

“I see,” you reply. “So he’s probably more embarrassed than he’s been in a long time.” You smirk. “Good.”

“Indeed,” Corrigan says. “Though I was worried for a moment. He seemed like he was about to get violent.” She shrugs. “Oh well, what do you want to do now?”

>”Let’s look at some of the other booths around here.”
>”Let’s head to the main building.”
>”I’m hearing music from that outdoor auditorium over there, let’s see what it’s all about.”
>”The observation platform sounds interesting.”
>”Let’s go somewhere else on Soyuz.”
>Write-in.

>>812855
>>”Let’s look at some of the other booths around here.”

>>812855
>”The observation platform sounds interesting.”
Lets observer something! Fishes?

>>812855
>"Let’s look at some of the other booths around here.”

>>812855
The observation platform

>>812855
>”The observation platform sounds interesting.”

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“The observation platform sounds interesting,” you reply. The two of you make your way across the campus to the area where the platform is.

Observation platform is a term that doesn’t really do the place justice. It is a beautiful plaza styled after what you assume to be ancient Greek structures. It is probably five hundred feet above the sea, which makes sense considering that the entirety of Soyuz is built atop massive titanium pillars like some kind of massive oil platform. The blue waters of Ganymede’s global ocean stretch out to the horizon uninterrupted.

Amazingly enough, as the two of you enter the main part of the platform, you notice a distinct lack of people. You both go over to a table near the edge of the site, where a waist-high wall made of Plexiglas is the only thing separating the both of you from a dizzyingly high drop. The table itself is maybe six feet from the edge of the wall, offering the two of you an amazing view. You both chat about things of little importance.

After maybe five minutes, you notice that more people begin to wander into the space, sitting at the other tables. Within the next minute or so, the place is packed. You wonder just what could’ve driven these people to show up right now. However, you notice that everyone has moved toward the glass wall, and you and Corrigan decide to join the crowd, where you witness something amazing.

You’d read about the Gany Fish in the travel magazine. It is apparently a creature that had always lived on Ganymede, and they have bones made of a kind of palladium ore, so they are hunted for the valuable mineral. However, what you didn’t know is that Gany fish are hundreds of feet long.

One jumps out of the water like a whale, twirling slightly before slamming back onto the water’s surface and sinking into the depths, then about five others follow, doing the same kind of jump. You instantly see where the palladium is located in the animals’ bodies, as their hundred-foot tusks gleam silver in the sunlight. They let out a call that shakes the entire platform before sinking back into the deep.

File: Some guy. Totally not a m(...).jpg (25 KB, 300x449)

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The people all across the platform cheer as the Gany fish leave, then the onlookers begin to file out of the place slowly. “That was amazing,” Corrigan says with glee. “I never got to see them when I was here. They only breach the surface at certain times, and I was always working.” She sighs contentedly, leaning against the Plexiglas railing.

“They are quite amazing,” another voice joins in from behind you. The two of you look back to see a man who looks to be in his early fifties. He has a mustache and a wide Mohawk, and his accent clearly denotes him as an Imperial citizen, though he does not wear a mask. “It is quite a shame that they are hunted to such extremes to fuel the mining industry here.” He frowns, taking a pipe out from his jacket and lighting it. “That pod of Gany Fish is actually protected by law from hunting,” continues sadly. “We’ve managed to wipe out forty percent of their population to date. All in our blind search for more of everything that glitters.” He smiles gently. "But that is just the human experience, I suppose."

>”Who are you?”
>”Why aren’t you wearing a mask? Don’t care for festivities?”
>”You seem familiar with the Gany Fish. Are you a scientist or something?”
>”I’m sorry if we were supposed to clear out, we’ll just be going now.” (ends conversation)
>Write-in.

>>813117
>”Who are you?”

>>813117
>>”Who are you?”

>>813117
>>”Who are you?”

>>813117
>>”You seem familiar with the Gany Fish. Are you a scientist or something?”
A little bit less blunt, especially since we aren't introducing ourselves first.

>>813117

”Who are you

File: He's a big guy.jpg (25 KB, 457x360)

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“Who are you?” You raise an eyebrow at the man.

He puts up a hand casually. “Merely a visitor, like yourself,” he replies. He then takes a seat at a nearby table, turning his chair to face you. “I am friends with one of the history professors here, and he invited me for a tour of the campus.” The man takes several puffs of his pipe. “I am waiting for him to finish teaching his classes. He told me to meet him here.” He shrugs. “I mean, I’m nobody important.”

The man is easily 6’4’’ and built like a linebacker. If you had to guess, you’d say he probably weighs close to three hundred pounds. You can tell by the way his suit fits that he hasn’t become unfit with age, which is uncommon for pretty much everyone.

“Fair enough,” you reply. “So what made you decide to talk to us?” You lean casually against the Plexiglas wall.

“The two of you didn’t seem like you were leaving in a hurry,” he muses. “And I figured I may as well make conversation since I am going to be here for a while.” He raises an eyebrow and points at you. “That jacket,” he says. “Were you in the Federal Navy?”

You instantly move to cover the patch with your hand, but the man casually gestures for you to stop.

“It’s fine. I’m not one of those anti-Federation radical types.” He chuckles mirthlessly. “Besides. I have no ill will toward most veterans. That war chewed up a lot of young men and women on both sides.” He shrugs at you as he takes another puff of his pipe. “I see veterans all the time. Practically run into them every day.”

You relax a little, removing your hand from your patch. “Yeah,” you finally reply. “I was in the war.” The man merely nods.

“I suppose I cannot blame you for being untrusting when someone recognizes that patch,” he continues with a grin that you only notice as it leaves his face. “It was a bitter war, the whole affair.” He crosses his arms and sighs. “But the past is the past. There’s no use in mulling over events we cannot change.” He puffs some more on his pipe. “I’m just glad some semblance of peace was achieved. It shows that there is still goodness in people. That we can still be reasonable…”

>”You were in the military, weren’t you?” (roll 1d100, best of 3)
>”So how do you know so much about the Gany Fish? Are you some kind of expert on them?”
>”Well, we have to be going.” (ends conversation)
>Write-in.

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>813304
>You were in the military, weren’t you?” (roll 1d100, best of 3)

Rolled 59 (1d100)

>>813304
>>”You were in the military, weren’t you?” (roll 1d100, best of 3)

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>>813325
Nice roll, Anon.

Rolled 7 (1d100)

>>813304
>”You were in the military, weren’t you?” (roll 1d100, best of 3)

>>813337
First roll of tonight

“You were in the military, weren’t you?” You raise an eyebrow at the older man.

At first, he seems a bit taken aback by your statement. Then, he chuckles. “Indeed I was,” he says fondly. “I was in the Imperial Army for quite some time as an officer, then I was transferred to the Imperial Navy for a spell…” He sighs. “And then I ended up in General Staff.” He looks at you with an expression that reminds you of a poker player. “I’m in what you might call a ‘transitional phase’ right now. I’m still technically active, but I’m trying to retire.”

“Any particular reason?” You cross your arms, intrigued.

“Well…” The man muses. “I suppose my reason is that I feel the Empire no longer needs me.” He smiles sadly, then chases it away with laughter. “Plus I’ll need to find a hobby to occupy my time in old age, and I’m still searching!”

Corrigan speaks up next. “So you were an officer during the War?” She is still using the faux-American accent.

The man nods slowly. “I was. At the beginning of the war, I was in the middle of transitioning from the Army to the Navy. Though I still commanded ground troops.” He moves his hands as he talks. “You see, the Empire doesn’t have a Marine force like the Federation does. We have Naval Infantry. They’re basically the same thing, only they’re far less independent from the Navy.” He frowns thoughtfully. “However, near the end of the war, they moved me from the Navy to General Staff.”

“Did you know Lord-Admiral Sulim?” Corrigan seems thoroughly interested now.

The man laughs fondly, as if remembering an old joke. “We crossed paths, yes.” He takes a long puff of his pipe, then continues. “I am surprised that you are so interested in the subject of the Imperial Military, young lady.”

Corrigan looks away. “Well, it is an interesting subject,” she replies. “I… My family is from the Empire originally.”

“I see,” the man replies knowingly.

>”Who is this Sulim guy?”
>”So what exactly did you do in the Imperial Military? We may have set foot on the same battlefield at some point.”
>”Let’s change the subject.” (specify)
>”Let’s get going.” (ends conversation)

>>813410
>”So what exactly did you do in the Imperial Military? We may have set foot on the same battlefield at some point.”

>>813410
>”Who is this Sulim guy?”

>>813410
>>”So what exactly did you do in the Imperial Military? We may have set foot on the same battlefield at some point.”

I've got to go to the grocery store, so it'll be a while before the write-up happens.

>>813410
>”Who is this Sulim guy?”
I want to know how how corrigan knows about em

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Alrighty, I'm back. And since there's a tie, I'll do as I always do and wait an additional ten minutes then roll a d2.

>>813410
>>”Who is this Sulim guy?”

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“So who is this Sulim guy?” You cross your arms, looking from Corrigan to the man.

“He is the Lord-Admiral of the Imperial Military,” Corrigan explains.

“I know that,” you reply bluntly. “But what does that mean? How do you know of him?”

“Allow me to explain,” the older man leans forward. “You see, the Lord-Admiral is the top rank in the entire Imperial Military, meaning that he controls both the Army and Navy.” He starts talking with his hands again. “Basically, the person who holds that rank runs the Empire. In fact, even though the Empress has authority over the Lord-Admiral, due to her age, she defers most authority to him, or so they say.” He raises his eyebrows. “It is a position that most would never dream of achieving.”

“I see,” you reply. “So basically Sulim is the true ruler of the Empire.”

“I wouldn’t say that,” Corrigan adds. “As the Empress still has the vested authority due to being the Sovereign. The Lord-Admiral can still be removed from his post by the Empress if she deems him unfit.”

“Indeed,” the older man continues. “The position of Lord-Admiral is a terrible responsibility, but in the end, he is still merely a servant to his Empress.” He nods slowly. “There have actually only been six Lord-Admirals in Imperial history. As they are normally only raised when needed. However, they have historically held their positions for life.”

“So Sulim isn’t planning on giving up power any time soon,” you reply.

The older man looks thoughtful, rubbing his chin. “I am not sure… These are very different times. It would not surprise me if Sulim ended up retiring within my own lifetime,” he says.

“Just how well did you know him?” Corrigan raises an eyebrow.

“Well, as I said, we crossed paths when I entered General Staff, as that is the echelon where the Lord-Admiral does his work.” He stretches tiredly. “We spoke at length a few times before the war ended, and several other times after.”

>”So what kind of person is Sulim?”
>”What are you planning on doing once you retire for good?”
>”So what are your opinions on the way the Federation has been acting over the past couple of weeks?” (address military tensions, roll a 1d100, best of three)*
>”We should be going.” (ends conversation)
>Write-in.


*high-difficulty, DC greatly increased.

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>813660
>>”So what are your opinions on the way the Federation has been acting over the past couple of weeks?” (address military tensions, roll a 1d100, best of three)*
Can't resist dice rolling

Rolled 6 (1d100)

>>813660
>>”So what are your opinions on the way the Federation has been acting over the past couple of weeks?” (address military tensions, roll a 1d100, best of three)*

>>813660
>”So what kind of person is Sulim?”

>>813671
changing to

>”So what kind of person is Sulim?”
missed the *

>>813660
Is it too late for me to change to >”So what kind of person is Sulim?”

>>813678
I'll let it slide just this once.

Rolled 97 (1d100)

>>813660
>>”So what are your opinions on the way the Federation has been acting over the past couple of weeks?” (address military tensions, roll a 1d100, best of three)*

>>813660
>”What are you planning on doing once you retire for good?”

This guy _is_ Sulim, I'm calling it.

So I'm thinking I'm gonna call it a night here. We'll resume sometime tomorrow afternoon. I'll let everyone know via the usual channels.

>>813678
Also, in case you didn't realize,
>>813684
Is me, My trip just fell off again.


Anyway, as always, Mood Music:

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aESvWB-kMas

>>813711
Wow anon. Wow.

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>>813711
>mfw two 97s in the same session

Spaceship adventures! Have to read up on it! Thanks for writing!

Quick update for everyone: I'll start the session in around three hours. Not sure if I'll be able to run tomorrow, so it might be a shorter thread than normal.

Okay guys, I'm about to start writing, but before I do, I have a question: Do you guys want me to write the military tensions option, since the third roll cleared the DC, or do you want me to go with the vote that won due to people changing their votes? I'll wait twenty minutes for input from you guys.

>>815880
whichever you'd rather write

>>815880
I'll vote for the option the dice gods clearly favor, don't think I've voted for this one yet

>>815880
I'll put it towards the high roll, no sense to waste that

"So what do you think about the way the Federal Navy has been acting lately?" You lean in toward the man, furrowing your brow.

He frowns, running his hand over his chin thoughtfully. "I know for a fact that the explosion on Venus was not an Imperial action..." He crosses his arms and sighs. "I honestly do not know why the Federation continues to point fingers at the Empire. We were devastated by the war," he raises his eyebrows. "Though there are radical groups within the Empire who blame the Federation for similar things as well. I suppose it is a similar situation."

"So you think the Federation is trying to find justification for a war?" You frown, leaning back.

"I am not sure," he replies. "I feel that many in the Federation do not want another war. I believe that most people everywhere would like to avoid it at all costs." He sighs tiredly. "If I had to guess, there are probably individuals on both sides who stand to make fortunes from increased military tensions."

"So you think the Missile Clans might be partially to blame?" Corrigan speaks up.

"It is possible, young miss." The older man sighs and puffs on his pipe some more. He then looks at her with a sly smirk. "You grew up in the Empire, didn't you?"

Corrigan stutters for a moment. "I..." She looks at you. You merely shrug, this guy is way too sharp to fool. "I lived in the Empire for most of my life," she sighs. Her Imperial accent returns.

"Europa, right?" The older man raises his eyebrows. Corrigan merely nods in response.

"You managed to figure out where she's from by her accent?" You're taken aback by this guy.

He chuckles at you. "Well, the dialect is more Russian than Dutch, which is the opposite of the dialect here on Ganymede," he explains. "Though I first got a notion of her being from the Empire when she mentioned Missile Clans." He shrugs. "It is something that not many non-Imperials know or care about."

"I see," you reply. With that, you hear a man speaking in the Imperial language. You all look over to see a short man with a beard, obviously a professor, greets the older man enthusiastically.

"Hallo mie tovarisch!" They both say to each other. The older man stands and hugs the professor heartily. Then, the older man gestures to you and Corrigan.

"Professor Rittenberg," he says with a grin. "I was just speaking with these young people while I waited for you."

"Ah," Professor Rittenberg says. "I see. Guests here for the festivities yes? Tell me, what do you think of the campus?"

>"It's great."
>"It seems... Artificial."
>"It'd be great if it wasn't a cheap knock-off of big schools on Earth."
>Write-in.

>>816155
>Haven't gotten to see much of it, but its been interesting.

>>816155
This >>816167
And ask him how he got some space elves to show up.

>>816167
Supporting

"We haven't seen much," you admit. "But it's certainly been interesting. We just came from the Culture Festival," you point in the general direction of the festival. "How'd you get the Psirineans to come? I've barely ever seen them before."

Professor Rittenberg smiles widely. "Ah, yes. Their people recently began a cultural exchange program with both the Empire and the Federation." He crosses his arms proudly. "Their culture is quite amazing."

"Yes," the older man says with a frown. "When they aren't acting superior to everyone." He grumbles.

"That..." Rittenberg sighs. "Yes, that is a problem. I believe that is merely a cultural difference."

"Anyway," the older man says happily. "It has been a long time, Arno." He places a hand on the professor's shoulder. "You said you wanted to show me something?"

"Ah, indeed." The professor smiles. He then looks at the two of you. "If you will excuse us," he says. With that, the two men leave. You and Corrigan spend a few more minutes at the observation platform.

"Interesting folks," you say.

"Quite," Corrigan replies. "I was not expecting to meet a member of the Imperial General Staff today." She stands up. "Well, there are probably other things you need to do today. Where shall we go next?"

>"Let's explore the campus some more." (specify location)
>"Might as well check out a coffee shop. I need to see about getting some cargo contracts."
>"I'm interested in checking out that Club Ritter place."
>"The Lord's Palace seems interesting."
>"I remember seeing an advertisement for a palce called the Royal Hollander Armory, let's see about that."
>"Let's head back to the ship."

>>816468
>>"Might as well check out a coffee shop. I need to see about getting some cargo contracts."

>>816468
>"Might as well check out a coffee shop. I need to see about getting some cargo contracts."

File: CoffeeHaus.jpg (1.56 MB, 5748x3525)

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"Let's look for a coffee house," you reply, standing up. "It'll be good to see about some cargo contracts."

The two of you leave the campus and get into a taxi, which takes you up several levels to a district that looks like it used to be much more populous. The cab deposits the two of you in front of a small building. There is a neon sign with a stylized coffee cup on it, denoting the purpose of the establishment.

You walk up and open the old, steel door. Immediately, you notice how dark and smoky it is inside. You and Corrigan enter the place. Music plays from an old jukebox in the corner as several people look your way, then immediately go back to whatever they were doing. You immediately realize that this is not nearly as wholesome of an establishment as the name would imply. This coffee house is a place where spacers either get work, or medicate themselves with various legal and illegal drugs while they wait for work. Corrigan steps behind you as several large men wearing vaguely similar uniforms walk passed you. You notice that a man sitting near the back hasn't stopped looking at you.

The two of you then walk over to the bar, where a young woman with a shoulder tattoo absently cleans a glass. She looks up at the two of you as you sit at the bar. "You tourists or something?" She speaks with an American accent. "You might want to go to a cafe if you're looking for actual coffee." She shrugs, lighting a cigarette.

>"I'll take a glass of whiskey."
>"You have a list of cargo contracts?"
>"So what's the news? Anything interesting happen around here lately?"
>"You're not an Imperial..."

>>816670
>"I'll take a glass of whiskey."

>>816670
>>"You have a list of cargo contracts?"

>>816670
>"I'll take a glass of whiskey."
>"You have a list of cargo contracts?"
>"So what's the news? Anything interesting happen around here lately?"

>>816670
>"I'll take a glass of whiskey."
>"You have a list of cargo contracts?"
You might want to label your dive bars properly, dummy.

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"I'll take a glass of whiskey," you reply bluntly. "And any information you've got on available cargo contracts."

The bartender raises an eyebrow at you, then pulls out a glass and a bottle. "Spacers, huh? I suppose I should've guessed." She points the bottle at your jacket, then pours you a glass. "Give me a minute to get you the list," she continues. She pushes the full glass toward you.

You begin drinking as she turns around and begins digging through a drawer behind her, under the liquor cabinet. "Ah, dammit." She tosses a crumpled piece of paper to the side. "... Nope, not that one either..." Then, she exclaims as she yanks a piece of paper from the back of the drawer. "Here ya go," she says with a grin. You take the paper from her, sitting your mostly-empty glass down.

Available Cargo Contracts:

Refined Palladium from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
Cloth from GANYMEDE to TITAN (****)
Food Aid from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (**********)
Hydrogen Fuel Cells from GANYMEDE to PALLUS (*****)
Ammunition from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to TRITON (fare: 2,500 Standards)
1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (fare: 5,000 Standards)

(OOC: You have space for two passengers and two cargo contracts.)

>>816809
we have an existing contract still?

>>816813
Some stuff to new albany

>>816809
>1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (fare: 5,000 Standards)
Food Aid from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (**********)
Ammunition from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to TRITON (fare: 2,500 Standards)

>>816809
>1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to NEW >ALBANY (fare: 5,000 Standards)
Food Aid from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (**********)
>Ammunition from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
>1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to TRITON (fare: 2,500 Standards)

Note to self: never have a shootout in this coffeehouse.

>>816813
We've still got ammunition bound for New Albany.

>>816809
t-ten stars! Ah fuckit, I'll support this anon >>816821

>>816809
>Refined Palladium from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
>Ammunition from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
>1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to TRITON (fare: 2,500 Standards)
>1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (fare: 5,000 Standards)

I'm a bit suspicious of that difficulty rating, I'll suggest either the above or skipping the detour to triton entirely

>>816809
1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to TRITON (fare: 2,500 Standards)
1x Passenger from GANYMEDE to NEW ALBANY (fare: 5,000 Standards)
Cloth from GANYMEDE to TITAN (****)
Refined Palladium from GANYMEDE to TRITON (****)
Food aid is 10 frickin stars, I never got more than 5 stars in GTA4

>>816865
Probably desperate people with food shortages that are willing to resort to piracy or jack it when its unloading in port.

>>816809
I guess I'll support this>>816866

>>816877
I'll just say this... There are... Things happening on New Albany that were hinted at in a previous thread.

So we've got a tie between those who want to take the food aid, and those who don't. As always, I'll wait ten minutes before rolling a d2.

>>816983
changing to no food aid. We need more guns first, or a bigger ship.

Alright then, looks like the majority of votes are wanting to take refined palladium and ammunition to Triton, as well as both passengers. Will begin writing shortly.

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You sign next to the ammunition and refined palladium contracts headed for Triton, as well as both passengers. Though the food aid contract doesn't seem like that big of a deal, the star-level worries you greatly. Ten stars for food?

You then leave your ship's location and information at the bottom of the sheet and hand it back to the Bartender, who nods at you. She then looks down as the sheet, reading the details to herself quietly. She shrugs upon reading your name, meaning that she's probably heard it somewhere.

"Alright," she says. "I'll get this put in the registry and let your passengers know that they've got a ride." She walks over to the registry machine and types the information in, almost painfully slowly. She clearly makes several typos that she has to correct, judging by her rather colorful swearing. Then, she goes over to the old phone on the wall and makes two phone calls, likely to each of your passengers. After close to five minutes, she returns to you, smiling. "Got your info logged. Thanks for doing your business with us." She leans onto the bar. "Anything else I can do for you fine folks today?"

>"I couldn't help but notice that you're clearly not from around here."
>"Any interesting local news?"
>"Is that guy in the back still staring at me?"
>"You bet. I want another drink."
>Write-in.

>>817122
>"I couldn't help but notice that you're clearly not from around here."
>"Any interesting local news?"
>"Is that guy in the back still staring at me?"
>"You bet. I want another drink."

>>817122
>>"Any interesting local news?"
>>"Is that guy in the back still staring at me?"

>>817122
>"Any interesting local news?"
>"Is that guy in the back still staring at me?"
Because I'm not gay.

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"Any interesting local news?" You raise an eyebrow at the bartender.

"Oh, you know," she says absently. "This and that. Not anything worth a spacer's time, generally." She pauses, thinking. "Actually... There was something interesting that happened a few weeks ago." She leans in as if telling you a secret. "So a few weeks ago, this guy comes in here when I'm about to go off-shift and head home. He starts mumbling about Federal commandos being sent to the near-colonies to suppress anti-militia resistance. Says they're massacring people out there." She crosses her arms. "If I had to guess, he was either nuts, or one of those anarchist types. I mean, we'd know if something like that were happening."

"I see," you reply. Then, you get the sinking feeling of someone's eyes on your back. "Tell me, is the guy at that table in the back still watching me?" You gesture in his general direction with your thumb.

"Perceptive," she says. "Yeah. He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you entered. Is he a friend of yours or something?"

"Never seen him before," you reply. "Does he look like what you'd consider a troublemaker?"

The bartender laughs coldly. "It wouldn't surprise me if he's trouble. I'd stick clear of him."

"Right." You glance over your shoulder, making it look like you're looking at Corrigan. The guy is older, probably forty, with cruel features and dark eyes like those of a shark. Yeah, definitely bad news.

>"Could I get another whiskey?"
>"You're not from around here originally, are you?"
>"I'm going to go see what our friend at the table wants." (confront the man)
>"We have to get going." (ends conversation)
>Write-in.

>>817265
>>"Could I get another whiskey?"

>>817265
>"Could I get another whiskey?"

>>817265
>>"Could I get another whiskey?"
Do we have any of our pistols on us?

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>>817331
We've got our service pistol from the Navy on us. Though drawing it should be seen as an absolute last resort in a place like Soyuz.

>>817265
>"We have to get going." (ends conversation)

>"suppress anti-militia resistance"
Sounds like an awkward situation on the ground.

>>817409
The militias are actually raised, maintained, and organized by the Federal Government. They're not a citizens' military. Their primary jobs are to ensure collection of taxes, enforcing laws, and "maintaining public order".

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"I'll take another," you say, pointing to your empty glass.

"Sure thing," the bartender fills your glass. Then she looks over to Corrigan. "What about you? Want some whiskey? Maybe something a little lighter?"

"No thank you," Corrigan says softly.

"Suit yourself," the bartender shrugs. "So why the masks? You two participating in the festivals or something?"

"Something like that," you reply. "We just left an open house at the university. Lots of festival stuff going on there."

"Really?" The bartender raises an eyebrow at you. "You don't exactly look like the university type."

You chuckle. "I'm not," you say. "Though, I don't mind wandering around when I'm visiting one." You take a drink of your whiskey. "They had an interesting culture festival going on there. I got to meet some Psirineans."

The bartender's eyes widen. "No shit? I only think I've read about them in books. Are they really like space elves?"

"Pretty much," you reply. "I mean, they look almost identical to humans, aside from their ears." You point to your own ears for emphasis.

"Huh, ain't that something." The bartender pours herself a drink. "Hey, don't tell the manager I'm doing this if you cross paths with him. I have to do this to get through a day at this place." She downs her cup in one go.

>"You're not from around here, are you?"
>"I think we're going to get going." (ends conversation)
>"What's so bad about this place that you have to drink your way through your shift?" (pry, 1d100, best of 3)
>Write-in.

Rolled 99 (1d100)

>>817564
>>"What's so bad about this place that you have to drink your way through your shift?" (pry, 1d100, best of 3)
WITNESS ME

Rolled 48 (1d100)

>>817564
>"What's so bad about this place that you have to drink your way through your shift?" (pry, 1d100, best of 3)

Rolled 41 (1d100)

>>817564
>>"What's so bad about this place that you have to drink your way through your shift?" (pry, 1d100, best of 3)

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>>817590
Fucking witnessed.

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"What's so bad about this place that you have to drink your way through your shift?" You look up at the bartender, sounding even more sincere than you intend to.

She instantly looks away, sitting the glass down. "Well, you know... This place is a dive, not to mention..." She sighs. "Okay, it isn't this place. At least not entirely." She brings a stool to her side of the bar and sits down, putting her elbows on the counter. "I guess it has more to do with the fact that I trudged through four years in the Federal Navy and ended up working at a dive like this..." She sighs again, then points to you. "I guess I figured I'd be able to do whatever I wanted when I got out, but after the war ended... There just wasn't any work. I ended up coming out here to try and make my way, but I learned real quick that most decent places don't hire people who aren't Imperial citizens."

"So you were in the Navy," you raise an eyebrow at her. She merely nods sadly. "Where'd you serve?"

"Oh, all over the place." She seems to perk up at the opportunity to talk about her Navy days. "I was a petty officer with a specialization in gunnery and radar. Served aboard the Nuremberg for a while, then they transferred me to the Ontario."

"Ontario, huh?" You grin at her. Though you'd never served aboard the Ontario, you were familiar with the vessel, your squadron had covered it during combat ops.

"Yeah. Got transferred after the Battle of Pallus." She leans in, pointing to your Federal Navy patch. "What ship did you serve aboard?"

"I..." You get somber. Though you could just tell her you served aboard the Ottawa near the end of the war, it wouldn't be the full story. "I served aboard the Abraxis..."

Her expression changes entirely. "Oh... Shit, man. Sorry I brought it up." She looks away, almost as though she's said something offensive.

>Write-in.

>>817801
It's all good. Now I am an independant captain. The only stupid CO I have to deal with now is me.

>>817801
>>817825
I'll support this.

>>817801
Not like you coulda known. Sides I brought up who served where.

>>817801
>>817825
>>817880
These with "But if you feel in the wrong I hear whiskey makes everything better [point at empty glass]"

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>>817935
And for clarification I meant our empty glass. Also pic related for us when service gets brought up.

>>817935
>>817955

But our glass is still mostly full...

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"It's fine," you say sincerely. "You couldn't have known. Besides, I'm the one who brought up our Navy days." You point to yourself. "And at least nowadays, the only idiot captain I have to listen to is myself."

The bartender smiles and laughs just a little bit. "I know what you mean," she replies. "When I was aboard the Ontario, the captain tried to sail right through an Imperial blockade, without any escorts." She laughs. "We had to request fighter support from the Ottawa."

"That was at Novapavlovsk, right?" You grin a little. The bartender's eyes go wide as you point to the little pilots' tab under your Federal Navy patch. "I was in one of those fighters. It was my first combat flight after I got transferred aboard the Ottawa."

"No way," she almost whispers. "Small galaxy, huh?"

You take another drink of your whiskey before replying. "Seems like it gets smaller every day."

You are silent for a little bit, enjoying your drink. Then, when you finish it, the bartender speaks up.

"So you're a captain," she says.

"I am." You stretch tiredly, looking at the clock. You and Corrigan have been out on the town for almost four hours.

"What's it like?" She raises an eyebrow at you, snuffing out her cigarette.

"So far, it's been interesting." You shrug. "We left Earth on our maiden voyage about four days ago. Looks like we're headed to Triton, then New Albany next."

"I know I'm probably not in any position to ask this," she continues. "But if you ever swing by here again and need someone who can hold a gun and do general work around a starship. I ain't going anywhere." She sighs. "But I don't want to sound like I'm begging for a job or anything. I... Working here isn't all that bad. I mean, I could be on the streets somewhere." She shrugs. Then, as you empty your glass and set it on the counter, she refills it. "By the way, since we're both sailors, you drink for free when I'm here," she grins.

>"Thanks, but I've got to go." (decline the drink)
>"Thanks!" (drink some more)
>"If I need more crew in the near future, You'll be the first to know." (address her request)
>Write-in.

>>818079
>>"Thanks!" (drink some more)
>>"If I need more crew in the near future, You'll be the first to know." (address her request)

>>818079
>"Thanks, but I've got to go." (decline the drink)
>"If I need more crew in the near future, You'll be the first to know." (address her request)
What is Corrigan sitting awkwardly beside us?

Since it's getting late and I'm going to a gun show to buy Mosin-Nagant bullets tomorrow morning I'm gonna pause the session here.

A couple questions for players:
1. What do you guys think is going on at New Albany? Bonus: What the heck do you think the food aid was about?
2. Which character is your favorite?
3. Which character seems like the one with the most secrets?

Mood Music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=u9lNl6Z6HCw

>>818079
>"If I need more crew in the near future, You'll be the first to know." (address her request)

>>818174
1. Famine or Pax testing
2. Tom really. He's the one with the most screentime and actions on-screen.
3. Pretty obviously Allie's brother

Also, shouldn't Vadim have recognized Allen from that bar fight on Europa?

>>818174
>>818208
Disregard second spoiler, I just realized Allien was wearing a mask

>>818208
Vadim Van Damen isn't Corrigan's brother. They just happen to share the same first name. 'Vadim' is like the Empire's 'John'. Trust me, if you ever see Vadim Vatner again, he'll try to kill you as soon as he recognizes you.

>>818218
>>818208
I always forget my trip when I'm tired.

>>818174
1)Stuff. but for the cargo I guess the food aid was for a group that a major power doesn't want to receive it, so they'd attempt to stop that either hush hush or overtly (blockade?). Or perhaps its more a minor political thing in the general sense (not involving major powers), in that it will piss someone off that we're helping someone. Or its not food aid, and we're delivering spacepox blankets. Probably way off on that though.
2) Ground control to major Tom. I like a lot of the characters, Corrigan and Cynthia especially for your presentation of them (Virgo gets love too). But Tom is my favorite, and it would be neat to see his devil may care/ cavalier attitude towards danger and excitement show its negative aspects, and how he deals with those. He is clearly bonding with everyone and is Allen's closest companion at the moment (there's still some feeling of distance with Cynthia to get past I'd imagine) so how would that affect him if one of his inclinations bites everyone else? Not that he's off the rails or anything. Funny thing is that just by their nature of getting the most screen time the crew will always be the most interesting.
3) Other than flashbacks, which indicate a horrible, though honorably done service, we don't know so much about Allen, wink wink. Maybe a little Shamalan? But for real I'll guess... Cynthia. Out of contact for years and a promise to Allen's father? Heavy stuff. Although you never know, its always the people who you never think are hiding something that are the best at it.

>>818260
>That answer for number 1

You guys don't realize just how much I wanted to write the scene where the food aid gets delivered to your ship.

>>818174
firstly:
>i like your writing op
but is all the ooc and hints in spoilers really neccessary? feels railroady and kind of ruining the quest for me.

>>818429
You don't have to read them though, that's why it's in spoilers I guess

Also, I can use them to metagame to get muh best waifu

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>>818629
>Implying my spoilers are always accurate and not half-truths
You'll find yourself in one heck of a pickle if you take every spoiler at face value.

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>>818644
It begins

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>>818174
>A couple questions for players:
>1. What do you guys think is going on at New Albany? Bonus: What the heck do you think the food aid was about?
>2. Which character is your favorite?
>3. Which character seems like the one with the most secrets?

1-commie russia/stalin-tier purges of civvies for whatever political reason. Civil disobedience perhaps?
2- Virgo seems p cool and I like him quite a bit despite not getting much time in the storytelling. Wish him and Allen get to bond more throughout their adventures together. (And he doesnt die). Besides him, I like Corrigan quite a bit but having read all the spoilers and previous threads Im pretty iffy about all characters except Virgo.
3- Cynthia and Tom. They look nice and friendly on the surface but I bet they're the ones with most skeletons in their closet. Still waters are often the deepest.

Quick update guys;

I'm still not back at my home computer yet. But I will be by tomorrow afternoon, and I'll be able to run all evening.

Alright, I'm back! And we seem to be set on addressing the Bartender's request. However, we're tied as to whether drinking some more or stopping.

I'll wait ten minutes for a tiebreaker, and if none is made, I'll roll a 1d2 and start writing.

>>824206
>Address her request but stop drinking

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“As soon as we have an opening, you’ll be the first to know.” You smile at the bartender.

“Oh,” she replies. “I mean, you don’t have to say that, you know. I get that starships are generally always at-capacity when it comes to their crew rosters.”

“I’m being serious though,” you reply. “The time may come when I need more crew.” You shrug. “And when that happens, I’d probably want to prioritize someone who has experience aboard a starship.”

“Well thanks,” the bartender nods at you. “Anyway, you want another drink?” She gestures to the bottle of whiskey sitting on the counter.

“No thanks,” you reply, raising a hand. “I’ve got to stay as sober as possible.” You stand up and stretch a little bit.

“Alright then,” she shrugs. The bartender then takes the full glass of whiskey and downs it for you. “Guess I’ll be seeing you around, Captain.”

“See you,” you reply. Then, as you turn around, Corrigan leans in and speaks.

“Captain, the man in the back has left his table.” You look over to see the man walking toward you, his lifeless eyes scanning the bar.

“Afternoon, friendo.” He nods at you, then takes a seat next to you at the bar. He then looks at the bartender. “Miss,” he points to the liquor rack in the back. “Could I get a bottle of tequila, please?” His voice is disturbingly deep, almost impossible to describe, and his mannerisms make you think of a machine pretending to be human. The bartender nods slowly at him and brings the bottle out.

As she sets it on the counter, the man grabs it gently and twists the cap off, taking a sniff of the bottle’s contents. Then, his face twists into a grin, or at least what you think is supposed to be a grin, and he gently sets some cash on the counter. The air is thick enough that you could cut it with a knife.

“Thanks,” he says. Then, as quickly as he had sat down, he gets up from the bar with the bottle in his hand and leaves the coffee house.

“That was very strange,” Corrigan says with a sigh. “Thought he was about to start trouble.”

“Yeah,” the bartender says with a nervous glance at the door. “Nothing about that guy seemed right.”

>”It’s probably nothing.” (dismissive)
>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)
>”He’s up to something, I think we should find out just what it is.” (follow him)

>>824418
>>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)

>>824418
>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)

>>824418
>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)

>>824418
>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)

>>824418
>”I’d keep an eye out for him in the future. Something about him isn’t right.” (suspicious)

Oh man, at least there were no coin flips.

“I’d keep an eye out for him in the future,” you say as you glance at the bartender. “Guy doesn’t seem right.” She nods at you, then slaps the counter.

“I’ve got him covered, I think.” She grins. “I keep a 12-gauge under the counter.”

“Right then,” you nod at the bartender, then look over to Corrigan. “I think we’ve done just about everything here that we need to.” You raise an eyebrow at your weapons officer.

“I believe so, sir.” She nods. The two of you leave the coffee house. Once outside, you hail a cab.

>”Let’s head back to the ship.”
>”I just remembered that there’s a football game, do you want to go see that?”
>”Let’s check out the Lord’s Palace.”
>"I'm interested in checking out that Club Ritter place."
>"I remember seeing an advertisement for a place called the Royal Hollander Armory, let's see about that."
>”Are there any places in particular you want to go?”
>Write-in.

>>824610
>>”Are there any places in particular you want to go?”

>>824610
>”Are there any places in particular you want to go?”

>>824610
>>”Are there any places in particular you want to go?”

I hate to do this guys, but I'm not going to be able to post more story updates until approximately four hours from now, but I'll be running until I get too tired to keep writing once I get back.

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“Are there any places in particular that you want to go?” You and Corrigan both hop into the cab. She looks puzzled for a moment.

“Well, I did not get out much while I was here,” she says. “But I suppose there is one place I would like to visit while we are on Ganymede…” She trails off.

“Go on,” you say with a small smile.

“Well… Two places actually…” She pauses, looking regretful for asking. “First, a gift shop of some kind… Then the home of an old friend.” She looks away. “If it is not something you would like to do, I can do this on my own time.”

“It’s fine,” you reply. “I’m the one who asked, after all.”

“Thank you very much, Captain.” She nods politely at you, then selects a location on the tablet embedded in the cab’s dash. It speeds off toward the gift shop that she had selected.

Within five minutes, you both arrive at the place. You both go inside, and while Corrigan is getting whatever she plans to bring to her friend, you go ahead and get a little keychain with Ganymede and Jupiter on it, costing 5 standards.

You and Corrigan meet up at the front desk, where you see that she has a bundle of white flowers, wrapped together with a small piece of black string.

The two of you return to the cab, and she selects the next destination. Over the next two minutes, the cab takes several roadways leading upward, toward the top of Soyuz. Finally, the cab leaves the main causeway and turns onto a side road, leading out onto one of the massive, exposed outcroppings. You both roll down your windows and take in the sea air.

You begin to wonder how wealthy this friend is, if they are able to afford a place under the actual sky. However, your suspicions of wealth are soon shattered entirely as the cab arrives at its destination. A large, green field with a sign in front of it written in both the Imperial language, and English. It reads: ‘IMPERIAL ARMED FORCES CEMETERY’. You then notice that the field is littered with row upon row of white pillars, just below waist height.

>”Corrigan? Just who is this friend?”
>”Are you sure you want me here for this?”
>Remain silent.
>Write-in.

>>826272
>Remain silent.

>>826272
>>Remain silent.

>>826272
>>Remain silent.

>>826272
>Remain silent.

>>826272
>Remain silent.

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You decide to remain silent as the cab pulls up to the entrance of the cemetery. As the vehicle stops and Corrigan opens the door, she motions for you to follow her.

The two of you walk along a foot path between two sectors of the cemetery. It is a quiet place, far above the loud crashing of the sea. The grave markers stretch on for immeasurable distances. If you had to guess, you’d say the outcropping is at least five miles by five miles, and there are more of the white markers than you can count.

Eventually, Corrigan leads you away from the foot path, across the grass and toward a part of the cemetery that seems almost… Separate from the rest. The markers here are smaller, and made from a different material. You immediately realize that these markers are made from stainless steel as the sun breaks out from behind a bank of clouds, the reflection almost blinding you.

The two of you eventually arrive at a marker near the corner of the separate section, and she kneels down in front of the marker, whispering some words in her native language. Then, she gently lays the flowers on the concrete block that the marker is embedded in.

There is a long silence as Corrigan stares at the marker. It is a somber place, but not a horribly sad one. If you had to use a word to describe it, peaceful would probably do it best. There are trees in a few spots, with benches under them.

It is a place that you wouldn’t mind being buried in, should you get the choice. However, a part of you realizes that even the thought is inappropriate. This is a cemetery for Imperial soldiers. People who gave their lives for the side that you fought against. But here, in this resting place, you only feel a kind of sad fraternity with those who lay silent. Their war is over forever. The people buried here are the same as so many of your old friends. They were just scared young men and women who fought for a cause that they couldn’t have understood the scope of. Even now, you question what the reason for the War was.

“Captain?” Corrigan’s voice shakes you from your thoughts. You look over to see a worried expression on her face. “Are you troubled by this place?”

>”It’s nothing, really.”
>”A little bit, yeah.”
>”Of course I’m troubled by it.”
>”I’m as troubled by this place as I am by Arlington back on Earth.”
>”Whose grave is this?” (inquire about the grave)
>Write-in.

>>826598
>”It’s nothing, really.”
>”Whose grave is this?” (inquire about the grave)

>>826598
"Only the dead have seen the end of war."

>>826598
>>”I’m as troubled by this place as I am by Arlington back on Earth.”

>>826598
>”It’s nothing, really.”
>”Whose grave is this?” (inquire about the grave)

>>826598
>”I’m as troubled by this place as I am by Arlington back on Earth.”
>”Whose grave is this?” (inquire about the grave)

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“It’s nothing, really.” You reassure her with a small smile. Then you gesture to the grave marker in front of the two of you. “Whose grave is this?”

Corrigan looks back to the marker, which is written in the Imperial language. “Georg Van Westmark,” she says. “He… He was pretty much the only person who helped me once I got here.” She smiles distantly. “I didn’t know anyone, but he took me in and helped me get a decent job at one of the larger manufacturing plants. Royal Hollander, actually.” She crosses her arms.

“How did you meet?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“He was a family friend,” she replies. “He knew my cousins. The ones who I lived with after the big fight with my immediate family.” She shrugs. “Georg didn’t care that I had basically forsaken my clan. He always thought that clan ties were foolish anyway.”

“Sounds like an interesting guy,” you reply. “Was he in the Imperial Military?” You gesture to the rest of the cemetery. “This is a military cemetery, after all.”

“Kind of,” Corrigan replies. “He was a naval officer years ago, long before the war. However, this part of the cemetery is for patrons of the armed forces. People who went to great lengths to help the military, or veterans.” She smiles again. “He ran a decent-sized factory, and he insisted on prioritizing veterans when hiring new people.” She sighs. “He died about six months ago.”

“I’m sorry to hear it,” you say.

“Don’t be,” she replies with a smile. “Georg lived a good life. He went out of his way to try and make everyone happy. In a way, it reminds me of the way you act, sir.” You raise your eyebrows at her. “Well… You always seem to try to do the right thing. You care about people.” She smiles, looking back toward the grave. “I think the two of you would’ve gotten along quite well.”

“I bet we would’ve,” you reply, nodding.

“Anyway,” Corrigan shakes her head. “I just wanted to pay my respects while we were on Ganymede.” She looks to the sky, as do you. The sun is beginning to set. “It is getting late, sir. Perhaps we should get back to the ship? It would not look good for the captain to stay out past the shore leave allotted to his crew.” She raises an eyebrow at you smugly.

>”You’re right, let’s head back.”
>”I still have some other things to do.” (specify)

>>826894
>”You’re right, let’s head back.”
Time to go I guess

>>826894
>”You’re right, let’s head back.”

>>826894
>”You’re right, let’s head back.”

>>826894
>>”You’re right, let’s head back.”

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“You’re right,” you reply knowingly. “We should probably head back.” With that, the two of you leave the cemetery and return to your cab, which rather quickly returns you to the docks. The city is beginning to wind down for the evening.

The cab pulls up outside the docks, and the two of you arrive at the ship with no incident. You notice that Tom and Virgo are loading the cargo as you arrive.

“You both got this?” You ask as Corrigan heads upstairs.

“Yeah, Captain.” Tom grunts as he picks up what appears to be a box of ammunition. “Go ahead and head on up. I think Cynthia’s working on the transmission right now, so you may want to check in with her when you get a chance. Oh yeah,” he sets a box down in the cargo hold. “I went ahead and got us some fresh fruits and veggies, so now we can have proper meals.”

“That’s good,” you reply. “Because we’ve got two more passengers arriving soon. As well as a new crew member.”

“Really?” Tom raises his eyebrows at you. “What kind of new crew member are we talking about?”

“A Psirinean,” you reply. “I’m not sure what kind of skills she has beyond computer programming, but she could prove to be quite useful.”

“Thank goodness you found a programmer,” Tom says with a sigh. “I can’t code worth a damn, and Cynthia can barely read enough code to fix small bugs in the system.” He sits on an ammo can and lights a cigarette. “And I’m pretty sure Corrigan can only code in some weird Imperial programming language.” He stretches tiredly. “Oh yeah,” he continues. “I got a couple cases of beer while I was out too, it was on sale.” The two of you grin. “It’ll be good for killing time on ling FTL flights,” he laughs.

“So that’s everything important that happened?” You inquire about the state of things.

“Yeah, pretty much.” Tom shrugs at you. “I’ll let you know if either of our passengers or our new crew member arrives.” He salutes you casually, which you return. "Oh, and I'll be cooking up some bell peppers and beef later. I'll ring you on the intercom if you're in your quarters."

"Duly noted," you reply.

>Go check on Cynthia.
>Grab a beer from the fridge in the Wardroom.
>Head to your quarters for a little bit of rest.
>Do something else. (specify)

>>827016
>>Go check on Cynthia.

>>827016
>Go check on Cynthia.
I seriously hope that we won't be caught in trouble while drunk.
Speaking of, how common is piracy? How much of a force are they? How high quality can they go?

>>827053
Generally speaking, most pirates are small-timers in frigates and light cruisers. And 90% of piracy occurs in the Spiral Arm Frontiers where governments are less powerful. Generally speaking, pirates like Blackheart are pretty rare, as most warships of that size are incredibly expensive to maintain and operate. She got pretty lucky. That specific class of cruiser was designed to be incredibly easy for a small crew to maintain during long voyages.

However, pirate-lords like Blackheart do exist. They number below one dozen, but they're out there. In fact, Blackheart isn't even in the top five of most powerful pirates. The most powerful one is rumored to have a fleet of upwards of fifteen ships.

>>827016
>>Go check on Cynthia.

>>827068
Speaking of fleets, if we earn enough money, can we buy cargo ships that is smaller or about our size, to haul more cargo?
I'm feeling some starsector/EV vives right now

>>827087
Frigates are about the smallest cargo-carrying vessels out there, and Allen spent like 85% of his pension on the Bad Habit, which was at a super-discounted price.

I mean, a fleet might (and that's a BIG might) be possible, but merely upgrading to a newer, nicer ship would be more feasible later in the quest.

File: We've got mechanical problems.jpg (44 KB, 480x640)

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You head upstairs to the engineering room, where several opened cardboard boxes with part-numbers lay scattered about. There are noises coming from the transmission room, and you follow them until you see that your mechanic is working diligently on the PMD.

“Hey, Cynthia,” you sit down next to the transmission housing, where she is currently working. There is a metallic clang as she scoots out from inside the housing.

“Hi, Allen.” She yanks herself out of the housing and smiles at you. “I just finished installing the new PMD, so now all I have to do is get the rest of the transmission back together.” She wipes a grease smudge off of her cheek.

“That’s good to hear.” You nod. Then, as if she has just remembered something, she digs around in her pocket and produces a small wad of cash. “Here’s the 1,000 Standards you gave me. I ended up not needing it.”

“Okay,” you take the cash and pocket it. “Also, what about the Q-band?”

“Right,” she nods. “I got the receiver while I was out too. As soon as I’m done here, I’ll get to work on it.”

“Anything else I should know?” You lean against the housing and stretch.

“Well, while I was poking around the transmission, I saw some absolutely disgusting weld-jobs on parts that probably broke in the past.” She grimaces. “I had to grind the old material off and re-weld everything.” She sighs. “Are most navy welders complete garbage at their jobs?”

“Most people in the Navy who do welding aren’t actually welders,” you reply with a chuckle. “They’re just whoever they have on hand at the time.” Cynthia looks horrified. “The actual welders are generally snatched up by the shipyards.”

“I see,” she replies.

>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”
>”I’m headed upstairs for a bit.” (ends conversation)
>”Sorry that you had to spend your personal pay on repairing the ship.”
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>Write-in.

>>827154
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”

File: 1471218517808.jpg (779 KB, 1200x903)

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I'm gonna pause the session here for tonight. I'll be running tomorrow afternoon, when I plan on finishing up the thread!

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=17PM-UMVud8

>>827154
>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>”Sorry that you had to spend your personal pay on repairing the ship.”
I mean why did we even let her do this, is she a partner in the ship or something?

>>827229
I'll be caught up by tomorrow, I like saving these threads for the long bus rides in and around the city.

>>827154
>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>”Sorry that you had to spend your personal pay on repairing the ship.”

>>827154
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”

Better tell her now.

>>827154
>>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”
>>”Sorry that you had to spend your personal pay on repairing the ship.”
>>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”

>>827154
>”So anyway, we’ve got a new crew member on the way.”
>”So there’s been a change of plans in our route. We’re headed to Triton before New Albany.”
>”Why the hell did you spend your personal pay on repairing the ship?”

File: Cynthia5.jpg (591 KB, 800x1280)

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“I’m sorry that you had to use your own money to fix the ship,” you say regretfully.

Cynthia smiles and gives you a friendly punch in the shoulder. “I probably would’ve used my own money anyway,” she replies. “Though, maybe next time, you should wait to divide up the cash until after any mechanical problems are sorted out.” She raises an eyebrow at you.

“Duly noted,” you say. “Also, our route has changed. We’re taking some cargo and a passenger to Triton before we go to New Albany.” You yawn. “And we picked up a passenger headed for New Albany too.”

“Huh,” she shrugs. “Well, I don’t think we should spend much time on Triton if we can help it.” She frowns, crossing her arms.

“Any particular reason?”

“If what I saw on the TV is correct,” she trails off. “Apparently the demonstrations there have turned into full-blown riots. I guess an MP killed some kid, and now the populace is up in arms, demanding the MP be punished.” She grimaces. “Apparently the rioters have seized an Imperial armory.”

“That’s not good,” you reply grimly. “If they’ve seized an armory, it’ll mean a rebellion instead of riots.” You sigh. “Hopefully they can work it out peacefully…” You trail off, enjoying the silence of the transmission room. “Oh, one other thing.” You look over at Cynthia. “We’ve got a new crew member on the way,” you continue.

“A new crew member?” She raises an eyebrow at you. “Why?”

“She’s a computer programmer,” you explain. “Now everyone can focus on their jobs and not have to worry about fixing the computer systems.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Cynthia sighs. “Our computers are a pain in the ass to work on. It’s all gibberish to me.” She shrugs. “I’m good with regular machines, not computers.”

“That was my thought process too,” you reply. “Anyway, is there anything else you need?” Cynthia shrugs.

“Not to my knowledge,” she says.

>Head to your quarters and get some rest.
>Go to the Wardroom and get a beer.
>Talk to Cynthia about something else. (specify)
>Do something else. (specify)

>>828751
>>Go to the Wardroom and get a beer.
Should probably be there when the space elf comes

>>828751
>Head to your quarters and get some rest.

>>828751
>>Go to the Wardroom and get a beer.

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You decide to head upstairs and get a beer. Leaving Cynthia to her work, you climb the stairs to the wardroom and head back to the kitchen, opening the fridge and pulling one of the generic-looking cans out.

You open it and take a drink, instantly understanding why it was on sale. However, you’ve never been one to complain about free beer.

You sit at the bench and turn the TV on, immediately seeing the news talking about the riots on Triton. Though these newscasters, are speaking the Imperial language, there are captions running along the bottom of the screen in English.

Apparently the daughter of a local citizen was killed by one of the MPs that the Empire brought in to secure new mining sites. The news footage shows mobs of people tipping over cars and setting an armored vehicle alight. The newscaster explains that the riots are supposedly confines to a specific station on Triton.

You decide to change the channel, having seen enough of the chaos on Triton. The channel you end up on is an independent news network that seems to be run from a space station. The program starts off by listing the prices of various commodities throughout the cosmos, as well as business advice for spacers. It’s all stuff you’ve heard before, so you don’t really pay attention. However, the next segment catches your attention.

The segment talks about rumors of restructuring in the Federal Military. The reshuffling of crews and officers. They then interview a Federal officer, who remains anonymous. He explains that he believes that it is being done so somebody near the top of the chain of command can consolidate power and keep those loyal to him close at hand. However, the segment quickly ends, and another one comes on.

This segment talks about the CFP’s recent border restrictions, as well as their current tensions with the Federation. Apparently the Federal Ambassador publicly accused the CFP of colluding with the Empire to act against the Federation. You’re not sure how much of this news channel you can believe, so you decide to change the channel yet again.

“Captain,” Tom ducks into the Wardroom. “One of our passengers has arrived. I showed him to his stateroom.” Tom then crosses the wardroom and goes into the kitchen as you finish your beer. “Anyway, I’m about to start making dinner.”

“Sounds good,” you reply. “So what’s our passenger like?”

“Weird-looking guy,” Tom says. “Dark eyes and a bowl cut. Tall too.” He puts up a hand for emphasis.

>”I’m going to head upstairs to rest a bit.” (head to your quarters)
>”I think I’ll go have a chat with our passenger…” (see the passenger)
>”I’ll go ahead and wait here until supper’s ready.”
>Write-in.

>>829134
>>”I think I’ll go have a chat with our passenger…” (see the passenger)

>>829134
>>”I think I’ll go have a chat with our passenger…” (see the passenger)

>>829134
>”I think I’ll go have a chat with our passenger…” (see the passenger)

File: Chigurh.jpg (158 KB, 500x365)

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“I think I’ll go have a little chat with our passenger…” You stand up, looking back at Tom. “Which stateroom is he in?”

“Uh…” He scratches his chin. “Stateroom 2.”

“Okay, thanks.” You head downstairs and walk into the passenger area. As you walk up to the door of room 2, you prepare yourself for pretty much anything.

You knock three times on the door, and there is nothing. No noise whatsoever. Then, you hear something. A soft noise behind the door. Once, then again, and again. It takes three more times for you to realize that you’re hearing footsteps on the other side. You step back as the shuffling reaches the other side of the door. The latch clicks loudly, and the door swings open.

Revealing the man from the bar. He raises his eyebrows at you, then takes a single step toward you.

“I suspect you are the captain?” He practically towers over you, easily being 6’5’’.

“That’d be me,” you say with just a little apprehension.

The man’s face contorts into that horrible grin again, and he speaks. “That is good. I am headed to New Albany.” He puts out a hand for you to shake. “I hope we will get along during the voyage, captain.”

You shake his hand reluctantly. “I certainly hope so too,” you nod.

The man keeps the grin up as you stop shaking his hand. “Now, if you will excuse me.” He points into his stateroom, where several metal boxes of varying length sit. “I really need to unpack my things.”

>”Right, you do that.” (ends conversation)
>”I… I didn’t catch your name.”
>”Those boxes are mighty strange, do you mind if I ask what’s in them?”
>Write-in.

>>829270
>I didn’t catch your name.”

>>829270
>>”I… I didn’t catch your name.”

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“Uh, sir?” You catch the man’s attention as he turns around. “I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name.”

He turns around with a raised eyebrow and a curiously human expression. “Ah,” he grins. “Yes, my name is… John.” He nods at you. “John Walton.” Even though you know for a fact that the man in front of you isn’t named John Walton, you don’t get to push the issue.

“Attention all passengers and crew,” Tom’s voice comes over the intercom. “Supper is ready. Come up to the wardroom if you want some.” With that, you nod at Mr. Walton as he returns to his stateroom.

Tom really does make a good bell peppers and beef. You sit across from Cynthia, and in between Corrigan and Tom. The dinner discussion is relatively light, mostly consisting of Cynthia explaining the repairs to the PMD and the Q-band. As you had guessed, she is about to start work on the Q-band, as she just finished putting the transmission back together when the dinner bell was rung.

Your guest, however, doesn’t join you for supper. Honestly you’re pleased that he decided not to. Virgo tells a rather interesting story about his early days as a Magus, a story that you’ve heard before, but one that the girls seem to enjoy. Corrigan asks him how he got his scars, and Virgo goes very quiet, then speaks barely above a whisper.

“Well… This is what I got for being foolish and thinking that I could trust someone who was very clearly up to no good,” he says with disgust. Then he grins slightly. "But I learned from it, and that's the important part, right?"

Other than that, dinner is pretty much totally uneventful. However, as you help Tom clean up the dishes, you get a message on your communicator from Sergeant Hendricks.
Our ship’s been ordered to head out to New Albany. Have you heard the rumors coming from that place? Seems like some nasty stuff.
>Don’t respond.
>Tell her about the rumors you’ve heard.
>Tell her not to worry about it.
>Tell her your ship will be there soon as well.
>Write-in.

>>829514
>>Tell her about the rumors you’ve heard.
>Tell her your ship will be there soon as well.

>>829514
>>Tell her about the rumors you’ve heard.

>>829514
> Tell her about the rumors you heard
> and you'll be there soon too
Maybe we can get some info off of her about what grand admiral paranoia is trying to pull.
Maybe they are going to go in and "liberate" the populace to try to goad the empire into attacking

File: Solfrid2.jpg (27 KB, 225x350)

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You reply to her with a pretty simple message:
----


I’ve heard that there are anti-militia radicals fighting the militias there. Nothing specific though. We’re actually going to be delivering some cargo there in a few days.


----
With that, you pocket your communicator and proceed to help Tom wash the dishes. After that, you feel a food coma coming on, so you head up to your quarters.

Removing your jacket, you take the mask out of your pocket and toss it onto your coffee table. Then, you remove your boots and relax on the couch for a while. You pull out your book and start reading it again, making it all the way through the second story before sleep begins to tug at your senses.

You head over to your bunk, removing your pants and t-shirt. You sit the communicator on the small stand next to your bunk, then crawl into it and continue reading with the small light in the headboard for illumination. The third story in the book is pretty interesting. It is about humanity before discovering spaceflight. In the story, humanity makes contact with aliens called “overlords” who wish to elevate humanity. However, something is clearly wrong about them.

Before you can finish the story, however, your intercom buzzes to life. You answer it and hear Tom’s voice on the other end.

“Captain, I think our newest crew member just showed up.” He speaks tiredly.

“What? It’s like 22:00.” You sigh and roll out of your bunk, getting dressed. You immediately head downstairs to the cargo hold, where you find Tom standing with his arms crossed, talking to Solfrid.

“Look,” he says tiredly to her. “I can’t be letting you come aboard until the captain tells me to let you come aboard. Do you understand?”

As you approach them, you notice that she is carrying a large, metal case slung over her shoulder, and a suitcase in her left hand. “Captain,” she greets you happily upon seeing you.

“Is this our new programmer, captain?” Tom looks at you with incredulity.

“Yes, Tom,” you sigh. “Her name’s Solfrid.”

Tom merely shrugs. “Fair enough. I’ll get stateroom 5 squared away for her.” With that, he walks up the stairs and back into the crew areas of the ship.

“Solfrid Beck reporting for duty, sir!” She salutes you incorrectly. You salute her back, sighing.

File: Wulfrig.jpg (58 KB, 446x604)

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“Do you know how late it is?” You raise an eyebrow at her.

“Well, sir…” She frowns. “This was the only time I was able to slip away from Wulfrig and his people.”

“Fair enough,” you reply reluctantly. “Head upstairs and get your things unpacked.” With that, she smiles widely.

“Of course! Though, I didn’t know you captained a Kestrel.”

“Beg your pardon?” You gross your arms. “This is an Oberon Class frigate.”

“Oh,” She says. “Right. I suppose the humans would have different names for them.” With that, she turns on her heels and happily climbs the stairs.

You sit tiredly on the cargo ramp, looking out across the docks. After maybe five minutes, you decide to get up and head back inside, maybe you can still get some shut-eye tonight.

However, as you turn around, a familiar voice calls out to you. “Human…”

You turn around to see Wulfrig flanked by two rather stocky, military-looking Psirineans. He raises an eyebrow at you condescendingly. “You haven’t seen Solfrid, have you? She’s run off to some place and someone said they saw her enter the dockyards,” he sighs.

Oh dear, that’s right. Solfrid was part of a cultural exchange program.

That's it for Episode 5!

As always, feel free to throw questions, comments, concerns etc. my way. I'll be throwing up Episode 6 Thursday afternoon, and hopefully the thread will be longer next time.

Mood music:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tXhmwMdUKfA

>>829681
... Did she run away? I feel like on one hand we should stick up for her and on the other this ass will just bully her into bailing.
>Is she in some kind of trouble?

Does anyone think that leveraging some of our connections to get the grand admiral cock blocked (or retired) will help preventing war? Like Sammy the spook and our new ex imperial grand staff buddy?

>>829681
I hope its longer too. Thanks for running I hope i can join in next time

>>829681
Maybe we should question him in response, with a annoyed voice. It would make sense to be dickish to him since he was dickish to us at the stall.

New thread is up!
>>838314
>>838314
>>838314