The first page.

[Trent]

Greetings, and welcome to " The first page".

TFP is a thread with a simple mission: To get people to write the first page of a Traveller scenario, plotline, story or, best of all, a combination of all 3.

You can of course comment on other people's efforts, make suggestions, etc, but please try to do at least one first page of your own on occasion.
To seperate any comments you might make from your TFP submission, please type a "+++" at the beginning and end of your TFP submissions if the post contains other comments.


+++

The artifical gravity field was drawing more power than it normally did, by a long shot. Then again, so were the thrusters, Captain Tanhauser noted with a weary concern.

Of course given that the Amanojaku was climbing out of a gravity well with a full load of cargo and topped off fuel jump fuel tanks, it was only logical that the AG fields would have to work harder to keep all the extra mass oriented along the ship's relative frame of reference, and that the thrusters would have to work harder to lift all that mass against the natural gravity the ship was overcoming.

Still, it was putting a prolonged high demand on the old free trader's even older fusion plant. While it was still in the green it was closer to the yellow then anyone onboard was comfortable with.

That was the problem with frontier worlds that had no highport facilities at all, you had to put the ship through an entry and landing, then liftoff at max mass. One such operation put more wear on a ship's hull, frame and, obviously, landing gear than a score of highport to highport jumps.

Still, independents took what runs were available.

The radio chirped. Captain Tanhauser's concerned stare shifted to it, and intensified. There was no good reason for the people running what passed for a groundport on Rynn to be contacting them.

"Free trader manojacky, this is Rynn flight control, please respond this channel. Priority message." The "staff" of Rynn's "traffic control" had proven utterly unwilling to properly pronounce the ship's name. Or perhaps they were literally unable to.

"Vacc..." Tanhauser cursed under his breath, vacc being a far worse word than "shit" to anyone who worked in space.

"Rynn TC, this is free trader Amanojaku, responding." The captain resisted adding "What, did we forget to bribe one of the facility whores for liftoff clearance like we had to bribe you and everyone else down there?"

"Manojacky, we have a...situation down here. Seems like a week ago some folks went to check out something on an island in the south hemisphere. There'd been some sort of quake there a few weeks ago and some people'd reported seeing something weird, something like part of a mountainside had collapsed and there was some sort of metal underneath it.

A whole family went to look it over, and we lost contact with them yesterday. Today we lost contact with the relay satt that had LoS to the island."

Knowing what was coming next, the captain listened with half his mind, and gave the other half a few seconds to think over a reply to the inevitable question.

"As you're leaving, could you swing over the area and see if you can establish radio contact with those folks? We'll send you the coordinates to the island and the freqs they were using. Also, see if you can see what happened to the relay satt if you wouldn't mind."

The tone was very much faux mild, the cretin at the port wanted the situation looked into badly, but was afraid the crew of the Amamojaku would exploit him if they knew he was desperate. Years of deals on both sides of the law made it easy for Captain Tanhauser to spot a crooked hick trying to come off as cool and unconcerned.

Hitting the deaf button on the comm panel, Tanhauser asked JC, his pilot "How hard would it be to swing over that area low enough to take a look and try to hail anyone down there?"


After a moment of thought, the pilot replied in his usual laconic tones "It'd add about 90 minutes to us reaching jump range, not hard at all, it'd just take a little time."

The engineer growled from his alcove "After the way they sodded us down there, they've got some real balls asking us for anythi-" The speaker cut off Britt's justified grumble.

"Manojacky, the...missing people are a woman, her husband and their two kids, ages 12 and 15. No one's heard a word from them in nearly 30 hours, and there aren't many vehicles in town that could reach reach the island very well. In fact they took the best ones when they went to check out what we'd heard about it."

"Meaning that if someone down there owns a decent air vehicle he'd ask for money to borrow it, you tightassed, thieving bastard." All three of the Amanojaku's crew had the exact same thought at the exact same second, given their experiences on Rynn in the last 2 days.

Hitting the deaf button again to deactivate it, Tanhauser spoke "The is the free trader Amanojaku. We'll overfly the area and try hailing anyone on the island. If we get a distress call we may land to render aid. Send us the location and comm freqs.Out."

"Lex," Britt began "odds are they want us to land there so they can kill us and take the ship, or at least our cargo."

"Not likely." JC replied matter of factly "Rynn has a rep for overcharging and hidden charging, but nothing like piracy or murder. They don't get enough traffic for that sort of fece to go unnoticed. Also, our current cargo's not that valuable"

"One pass over the island, Britt. If there's a snowball's chance that a couple kids are in danger, I won't pass on helping them. And the kids didn't gouge us, you know."


"Yeah, yeah." Britt conceded reluctantly. One reson he stayed with the Amanojaku was that her captain wasn't a hardass or a prick, and would, on occasion, stick out his hand or even his neck to help someone who needed it, and he'd rather work for a guy like that than a lot of captains. Still, having to pay a slack jawed yokel who wouldn't have known his ass from a lanthanum grid to look at his engines and then pronounce them safe as part of a "legally mandatory" pre-liftoff inspection had raised the engineer's blood temperature to fusion level.

"'I'll take the comm and scope, and look over the island. JC, get us over it ASAP." Tanhauser began readying the ship's main imaging systems for an orbital surface visual recon.

Veering sharply from her previous straight ascension vector, the free trader Amanojaku began a precise arc across the planet's girth, swinging towards it's southern hemisphere.

+++

 

[sabredog]

I'm writing a short story that is rapidly turning into a novella for my 10yo daughter based on the solo adventures of her scout character in my non-OTU CT game. This is the first chapter.

Discovery

The small Imperial Scoutship dropped out of jump space just outside the star system. It floated quietly for a few minutes, the sensors scanning the system for signs of other ships or energy emissions from the worlds orbiting the yellow star. Finding nothing, the ship’s engines lit up and it darted towards the world in the third orbit. It was smaller than Earth, showed plenty of water in the form of two major oceans, and had a good chance of supporting life. A good looking colony world, maybe?

The little ship looked like a white arrowhead as it entered orbit over the world and extended more sensor probes to sample the edge of the atmosphere for any signs of pollutants that would show active industry on the world. Scouts had encountered dangerous and advanced aliens on some of the worlds of the outer rim and this one wanted to take no chances. Since nothing was found by the sensors, the ship withdrew the probes and began to spiral down to land in some open, flat grassland that would give the pilot a good view around area so nothing could sneak up on the camp.

The ship touched down in the four foot high grass after the laser turret burned out a 100’ circle of clear ground. The hull metal pinged and creaked as the ship’s skin cooled and the turret spun this way and that scanning for trouble. Nothing could be seen anywhere but the waving grass, the blue-green sky with wispy white clouds, and a river 2 miles away to the north. After a few minutes the ramp extended and the Scout came down out of the ship wearing an armored vacc suit, and carrying an auto-shotgun at the ready. The Scout set up a scanner on a tall tripod and after seeing that all was clear according to the readout took off her helmet, shook out her dark hair, and smelled the spicy alien scent of a new world.

Lady Victoria of His Imperial Majesty’s Scout Service smiled broadly and tried not to giggle, but didn’t quite succeed so the giggle turned into an all-out laugh while she did a little victory dance. “Ya-hoo!!” she yelled, as she ran back into her ship to get the flag that, when planted would formally declare this world for the Terran Empire. Lady Vic came clattering back down the ramp with the flag and satellite launcher she needed for the little ceremony and quickly unpacked them. She unrolled the flag and planted it firmly into the soil, and stated carefully for the satellite recorder, “I, Lady Victoria Challenger claim this world for His Majesty Emperor Hans Molitor 1st and for the Terran Empire!” Vicky (as her closer friends from Friedland called her) then pushed the “LAUNCH” button on her commpad and the tiny satellite soared into orbit to begin broadcasting the signal she recorded (including all the legal boilerplate to guarantee her claim) to anyone else who came to the system later. The world was now officially hers to name, but Vicky figured she’d better get the camp set up first. Lunch first, names later; it had been a long time since she ate lunch under the open sky breathing air that didn’t taste like metal and dirty laundry.

Inside the ship Vicky took off the heavy vacc suit, put it in the locker inside the airlock, and changed into a light-weight tunic and pants, boots, and bush hat. She grabbed a meal pack from the galley and headed for the cargo hold. In the hold there were cargo containers stacked in neat rows. They held all Victoria’s food and living supplies, samples she had gathered from various worlds she had surveyed on this voyage, and various spare parts, survey gear, and other things needed to make a journey as long as this one. Lady Victoria Challenger was a long, long way away from her family ranch on Friedland. Even with use of the high speed transport carriers her tiny ship would ride in once she was back inside Imperial borders, it would take her over six months to get home if she didn’t stop for any more souvenirs on the way. And now she was inside the notorious Fijord subsector, home to the Space Vikings – space raiders and renegades from the bad old days of the Terran Confederation and the last war against the Askorrian Empire. After that war the Confederation collapsed and the Friedland Coalition, part of which her family belonged to, rallied the crumbling border colonies and formed the Terran Empire. Now Victoria was part of the effort to find old colonies to bring back into the Empire, or to find worlds lost after the records were destroyed during the war. Or, brand new worlds for colonists to go to and set up new homes loyal to the Empire.

In one corner of the cargo hold a four-seat air/raft sat on the cargo lift. Victoria put a few cases of equipment inside the air/raft, added her lunch and pushed the button on the control pad to lower the lift down to the outside ground. Leaving the air/raft on the lift platform in the shadow of her ship for now, Vicky took a pair of metal cases out into the warm sunlight and sat down on one case using the other as a table. She pulled the tab on the side of the meal pack and it instantly heated up to produce a “Delicious and Nutritious Feast”, according to the label.

“Hmpf”, muttered Victoria to herself, “Semi-delicious and just barely nutritious and certainly not-quite feast is more like it.” She opened the meal pack and began munching on the macaroni and cheese mixed with bits of what the label said was chicken but Vicky couldn’t ever figure out if it really was. It never tasted like chicken no matter how many times she ate it, and she had eaten an awful lot of this since beginning her mission almost nine months ago. But today it tasted wonderful, and Vicky laughed again and stamped her boots in the dirt as she thought of how this was her planet! The first new, uncharted world Victoria had found since joining the Scouts that looked suitable for colonizing! And she could name it whatever she wanted to.

She thought a little about that while eating her chicken mac, and remembered the bounty. Oh the Imperial Bounty!! Ten million credits for any world found unclaimed and unpopulated that could support colonists would be hers when she returned home and her claim confirmed! “Wow,” she thought, “I could set up my own ranch, raise horses and cattle, and never have to eat this stuff again.” But on the other hand Victoria also thought she’d miss flying around outside mapped space looking for new worlds and seeing all the amazing things she had in her short time in the service. Looking across the utter dark of the Great Rift and flying through the pillars of the Eagle Nebula. Sunrise and sunsets on dozens of different worlds, each with their unique smells, sounds, and landscapes. And finally, all the wild varieties of alien animals scattered among those worlds. Victoria liked those the best.

The sunset came early on this new world so Victoria hurried to set up the scanning gear and stun-fence around her ship and the survey sensors and little robots that were busily collecting and sorting samples from the soil, air, and plants around the landing site. The fence would prevent any local animals from wandering into the campsite and damage the equipment. Victoria set a couple of animal-trap robots loose in the grass outside the fence just to see what they might come back with in the morning; the robots could only stun and capture something the size of a squirrel but Vicky always looked forward to checking those robots first when on a new world to see what they found. Once the robots had rolled off into the grass, the science gear humming and buzzing correctly, and any loose gear collected and locked up Vicky went back into her ship and shut the ramp. Vicky turned on the fence from the bridge and went to her stateroom for a hot shower and bed.

 

[fiat_knox]

Into The Dark

So this, thought Hanuman Ananda Johnston, is the future. We come all the way out here, and where we settle we put up houses with red brick walls and uPVC windows and kiln-fired ceramic tiles.

Adjusting his knapsack and blinking to keep his prescription liquid contacts fresh, Hanuman shrugged and exited the semi-detached house. A short walk down the path, and he was outside of the house's little safety net and on the street.

Around Hanuman were all the other identikit little houses, each containing their own tiny families, each with their own ridiculous plans and dreams, and their ambitions which would forever go unfulfilled for want of looking up.

When do we stop wandering? he thought. When do we put away our hopes and our fears, and wrap ourselves in the daily commute and the nine-to-five grind in a cubicle, and worries about debt and pathetic neighbourly rivalries, and affairs with next door's wife?

He glanced up at the morning sky. Why, he thought, do we turn our back on the stars?

Hanuman had looked up at the stars since he'd been a little boy. He'd heard that his family had once been wanderers; outcasts from the cradles of Humanity. Terra. Vland. Hell, there was even a rumour that one of Hanuman's ancestors may have even been Zhodani, a nomad among his people who'd stumbled into this universe of lies and treachery and hidden thoughts and motives ... and who'd survived despite this, long enough to breed at some point.

A gentle rain began to fall about Hanuman as he turned to walk up along the road. At the end of the boulevard was the main thoroughfare, and the omnibus that would take him to the capital. Somewhere on the wrong side of the capital, he knew, was Startown, between civilisation and the Starport; and it was there, in some seedy dive called The Boots Covered In Stardust, that he was to meet the crew of the ship that was going to take him away from this place and bring him to the stars in which he craved to wander.

Just once, just before Mr Harrison's place, he turned back to look at the entrance of his old house one last time, just before that particular location in the road where he'd calculated that the curvature of the avenue broke his line of sight. One step past this point, and he would no longer see the old house.

Hanuman realised that, once he could no longer see this place, he would never again come back to it. There was no point in returning any more. He'd done all the caring for his old Dad that he would ever do.

'Goodbye, Dad,' he whispered, as he watched the mourners beginning to gather. It had been a long life, and a good one, and his Dad had not been alone at the end; but if his Dad had done anything good for Hanuman, it was to remind him of where Hanuman's truest destiny lay: and it wasn't here, in this tree-lined avenue on this colony world, ensnared in its petty dreams of status and money and aspirations, and wondering what the neighbours would think.

Hanuman sighed and let go of the last ties that held him here. Turning, tears blurring his prescription liquid contacts, he walked away from his old life and onwards towards his new one.

Hanuman only hoped that the Captain of the Mariposa would be understanding, in the way his Dad was not when Hanuman had brought home his lover Michael to show him ...

 

[Trent]

God, if only I'd known, it would have been so easy to keep it all from happening.

It started just so...harmlessly, you know? No foreshadowing, no ominous music, none of that vidfece.

We'd just entered Jump after a regular deal on Mathis, in the Nakazono system, and I was kicking back in the lounge, halfway watching some vids we'd picked up at the local market.

Anyway, Oz walks in with a big envelope in his hand...

Oz. Osborn. Chris Osborn. A great guy and a good friend of mine, and none of this was his fault, got that? Not one bit, he was not to blame at all.

Ok, anyway he walks in with this envelope in one hand and a glass of water in the other. He looked like he was doing something so I kind of watched. Hey, we had a week to watch the vids, you know?

So, he sits down at a table, sets down the glass, opens the envelope and dumps out a bunch of cards.

Cards, thick paper, about the size of the envelope. Maybe 6x8, I didn't measure it, you know?

There were...3 big cards, and a sheet of regular paper. The instructions, I guess. Oz looked at it now and then.

He takes a white card that's shiny and glossy and done up to look like art or something, like painted white marble or art quality porcelain. He folds it up and turns it into this open topped box, like the kind you get "authentic" terran rice in at "authentic" asian food places, you know?

Well, it looked pretty, had a lot of art on it, mostly pictures of this pretty flower. I was real curious now.

Next Oz takes this green sheet and rolls it up into a cylinder. He licks his finger and runs it down the edge, then lets go. it must have had glue on the edge because it stayed rolled up.The he takes a pen and pokes it unto one end, and it spreads out, so he has a green cylinder with a flared end that stands up on it own.

So, next he put the tube in the box, standing up. Now he took the black sheet and unfolded it a couple times, then tore it along some cuts into strips, then he tears the strips into squares, dropping them all into the box, and nearly fills it in a minute. He was really focused on what he was doing. By then so was I. I mean, was this some sort or new snack or what? You just never know what fad someone's going to invent on some planets, I swear..

OK. Well then he pours in the water, and I hear some fizzing. I look over and the black squares are all melting and bubbling. After a minute they'd turned into this..foam, black foam, that filled the box to just a little below the top.

Yes, I smelled something, it was kind of like what you smell at places that have terran grass, and they come and level it down, and the grass makes that smell when a lot of it's cut. Some people buy that smell, for their homes, or for some ships that are from worlds stocked with terran plants and animals.

Well, Oz, he nods after the foam stops fizzing and bubbling, then goes to put the box on a shelf in the lounge. So finally I ask him what he's doing.

So, he tells me that back on Mathis he'd found that this company had mailed out a lot of free samples of flowers to everyone, and some people had tossed theirs. So he decided that a few nice flowers on board would make the ship a little nicer, ok? Nothing wrong with that, you know? Like I said, none of this was his fault, he was just trying to make things a little better. He found some people had tossed out theirs and brought them back to the ship.

He put one in the lounge, in the mess and in his quarters.

Every couple days the boxes would say "Water, please." in this little soft voice. Oz watered them, hell, I did once when he was asleep and the box asked for water. It wasn't my fault, what happened, anymore than it was Oz's.

One time I looked close at one of the boxes and saw some stuff I thought was art was really writing, really fancy writing with all sorts of loops and fine lines around it. "Filligree", Jim called it. Jim knows lots of 10 credit words, you know the kind of guy I mean? He's Ok though.

Anyway, it said "The Gardens of Babylon" and "A free sample from the Gardens of Babylon." and listed a planet called "Hamurabi/Babylon". Never heard of the place. There was a net address you could mail too for a catalog. Don't remember it.

God, I hope someone makes those bastiches pay for everything...

 

[far-trader]

Fun idea, wasn't sure what to post when it first came up but maybe this isn't too bad. Built on an idea I'm tossing around in my head as a game/campaign intro if I should be so lucky. Written fist person though the player(s) would of course be in that spot...

+++

The digital readout above the counter changed from 1137 to 1188...

"What the stars?!"

The display flickered and the first 8 changed to the 3 it was supposed to be. Briefly. It was enough, I approached the counter and passed my token 1138 to the bored clerk behind it.

"What can I do for you?"

"I'm here to get my ship."

"Registration... "

Passing a pile of forms and my ident over I could hardly contain my excitement as the clerk fed the forms into the scanner. Finally. I'd be free, my own boss, Captain of my own ship! Well, ok, so I'd be paying the bank for years until I actually owned it, but it...

"Looks in order, no 849 form though. You didn't want to customize your Type A?"

"Customize?"

"Yeah, within reason the Imperial Merchant Bank Service Owner/Operator Program will allow customization of your ship. You need to hire your own accredited Naval Architect to advise you and integrate your changes. They charge a nominal fee and it adds about a month to the wait. Of course your payments will go up based on the changes."

"No thanks, I'd rather get it now."

"Now?"

"Yeah? Is that a problem?"

"Um, this is an order to build. We don't stock ships for SOOP, we build on demand. Construction will take about 11 months, once a yard slip clears. The wait is a couple months average unless you have some connections that can bump you to the head of the list."

"Eleven, Months?"

"Yep, or more. If you file today it looks like... 3 months for a clear yard slip, so 14 months total. I've heard the IN is putting in an order for some SDB's next month though, that'll push the wait back another year if you don't file before that."

"Two, Years?!"

"Yep. Although... "

"Yes! What?" desperation tinging my sudden hope...

"Well, I know a guy who's got a salvaged trader. He started overhauling it and ran out of funds before it was ready for certification. It wouldn't take much to get it flight ready and certified, probably have you trading inside of a month, two tops. It's an old ship but it's got better range and faster burn. I'm sure you could swap your SOOP certs for his mortgage and a loan from the IMB to complete the overhaul. If you're interested."

"Maybe, who do I see about this ship?" as my skepticism tempers the hope...

"Me. Wait out front, I'll clock out early for lunch and show her to you now. If you don't like it we come back here and finish filing your application to build so you don't lose your place on the list."

What choice did I have? Really. I had already begun interviewing for a crew, even hired an Engineer. I didn't have enough funds to wait months or years. I'd have to take some local minimum wage job just to eat until the ship was completed. Maybe this salvage deal wouldn't be so bad...

+++

 

[Gadrin]

Part One

Here's the intro to an adventure using LSP and this is the background
for the adventure (what the bad-guys are up to).

It's only in rough form.

The idea is that LSP who is a giant in the mining field notices a spike
in radioactives coming in from Mertactor when they do a Quarterly
Market Analysis and decide to backtrack to the source, and eventually
clashing head-on with Arkesh, and the Merchant Princes of Skull (MPoS)
et al. The players would be hired by LSP to assist them in finding the
source...

http://www.travellermap.com/sector.htm?sector=Spinward+Marches

Arkesh in D-268

[original freighter name]

The energy of alpha particles varies, with higher energy alpha particles
being emitted from larger nuclei, but most alpha particles have energies of
between 3 and 7 MeV. This is a substantial amount of energy for a single
particle, but their high mass means alpha particles have a lower speed (with
a typical kinetic energy of 5 MeV the speed is 15,000 km/s) than any other
common type of radiation (ß particles, ? rays, neutrons, etc). Because of
their charge and large mass, alpha particles are easily absorbed by materials
and can travel only a few centimeters in air. They can be absorbed by tissue
paper or the outer layers of human skin (about 40 micrometres, equivalent to
a few cells deep) and so are not generally dangerous to life unless the
source is ingested or inhaled. 

016-1120

While on Mertactor in District 268 an Arkesh contact known as "Ropolos"
observed the crew of a small freighter, Beowulf class, named the KRIBAYA
unloading cargo. The men put on special handling gear including masks and
took to moving large hazmat containers into the ship, all under the careful
supervision of port authorities. When done the men were taken to the port's
customs area and underwent some sort of inspection before being released.
Later that night the crew is found celebrating -- grandly -- at the port's
foremost tavern. Ropolos is able to engage some of the crew in small talk
during their wild celebration and finds they just cashed in a large haul and
additionally their future is bright.

017-1120

After leaving the celebration just after midnight, Ropolos is able to get
information on which containers the ship used, by posing as a prospective
leasing agent. He notes the container numbers. He also offers the freight
yard guard an incentive to let him know when they return.

021-1120

The containers are returned to the shipyard and Ropolos arrives as quickly as
he can. A fast inspection shows that they've been cleaned but cracks and
spots in the can's construction show they'd been filled with sand, rock, now
caked in mud. A handscanner quickly shows the presence of alpha particles.
The ship is hauling radio-actives. He asks for information on the ship. It
arrived recently from Dallia. They're headed back there. He pays a captain
headed that way who is returning to find out where the ship was headed after
that. In addition the captain is to leave the information under a general
account # along with a small code phrase.

033-1120

A freighter run by Krossur, an Arkesh member, puts into Dallia. As part of
normal ops his first officer retrieves messages, and finds the one that
Ropolos paid for. Krossur calls up the information himself and finds the ship
will be putting out tomorrow, bound for Tarkine. The code phrase used by
Ropolos means "rich target". Gambling on the message, Krossur jumps his ship
the GOLD BRAID to Tarkine immediately.

041-1120

Within 12 hours of arriving in the Tarkine system, the GOLD BRAID spots the
jump flare of the other ship as it arrives. Subsector data shows the planet
is an amber zone, however there is a scout base. Both ships put down at the
base to refuel. Observation of the ship KRIBAYA shows they have little cargo
and pick up none. Krossur's people had put down in a 20-ton gig earlier and
had a look around. There isn't much hazmat traffic coming through and the
port seems barely able to support normal traffic. A bribe shows that the
KRIBAYA stops here regularly. Spending only as much time as they need, the
KRIBAYA jumps out listing Flexos as the next stop. Krossur follows.

049-1120

Flexos isn't much of a stopover either, however sensors confirm a prominent
IR signature from the planet's northern pole. Sending down the 20-ton gig for
recon reveals a running reactor and a mine built inside a meteor crater. The
KRIBAYA is landed on a flat section of permafrost nearby. Radscanner
indicates fission reaction and alpha particles. [could be wrong, first para
mentions only travelling a few cm in air] The ship stays here for almost two
days; meanwhile the GOLD BRAID slips away, lands elsewhere and draws up ice
to turn into fuel. Twenty four hours later, the GOLD BRAID sets down on the
spot the KRIBAYA left; Krossus asks to see the mine foreman. They make the
trip down to the prefab huts the miners use for shelter and offices when not
in the mine. Krossur explains that he talked to the captain of the KRIBAYA
who informed him of their new-found deal. The mining foreman is suspicious
and offers very little about their arrangement. For effect, first mate Ollut
Nalen produces his machine pistol and the two strike a deal with the foreman
for a cargo of uranium. Krossur doesn't have the money for a big load, as the
product isn't cheap. The foreman suggests the Mertactor market, as it's far
from the LSP influence in the Bowman belt and offers the best price for
goods, which makes sense. Before liftoff, Krossur tells the foreman that the
KRIBAYA won't be back as his people are going to buy them out. The foreman
understands.

057-1120

The GOLD BRAID makes Bowman.

Consulting the Mertactor Market Guide, captain Krossur determines that market
value for the uranium will easily make them 200% profit. It's only 2.25 tons
but the CR 45,000 they spend will net them 90,000 after cost! However they
must proceed carefully, they'll need startup money and ships. Asteltine is a
good place to start. However they have to catch the KRIBAYA before it can get
back to Flexos, as they revealed too much to the mining foreman. Krossur
knows the captain of a 400-ton raider, who would jump at the opportunity for
this...if they can find him. From Bowman they head immediately to Asteltine.

064-1120

They find Pero Berine, captain of the merchant raider WHISPERETTE, whose ship
masquerades as a salvage vessel, but has impressive firepower. Krossur must
buy his way into Berine's presence, then sells the pirate on his plan, which
is immediately agreed to once Berine and his first mate inspect the GOLD
BRAID's 2.25 tons of cargo. They both agree that heading rimward to Mertactor
to keep out of Ling Standard Products hair is the safest move. The Mertactor
market is good, providing the pricing stays level, and the goods will most
likely head out of the district. They also make a tentative plan to take out
the KRIBAYA. Grabbing it in one piece would be the ultimate solution, as it
will make three ships for hauling uranium cargo to market. However there is
no guarantee this will occur. Krossur has another option. Transport a pair of
mercenaries to Dallia to purchase passage on the KRIBAYA heading coreward and
persuade the captain to join their endeavor during jump.

This means Berine/Krossur make Flexos     ~078-1120, 
while the KRIBAYA won't return until     ~093-1120

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

[Gadrin]

Part Two

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

THE MEETING USING ST:ENTERPRISE IMPULSE AS SETTING ENVIRONMENT

Change the refurb Admin Building to 9 stories, use 3x 3 story tiers for each
"layer" with each "layer" getting larger from top-down.

Exterior: scaffolding and cranes and other equipment dot the site. Entire
area is surrounded by a fence and the flood drains are blocked by large
cement barriers. Workmen's equipment is strewn about modestly, as the place
looks like it's in the middle of reconstruction/refurb. However the project
has been disrupted by an issue with the contract (yes, money) so no work is
being done for a week while the parties negotiate (this means the money in
question concerns the workmen's favor).

During the hiatus, the syndicate decides to use the area as a meeting place.
It's basically off-limits to the public and offers protection, anonymity and
everything else, including power, since the workers store power-cells and
portable generators inside. It's also neutral ground. It's the best place for
12+ trampers to gather without being aboard a large starship.

The building's existing electronics and equipment works to some extent, that
which isn't removed or disabled, including heating/air, most of the elevators
and various lighting elements. Portable lighting trees can easily be rigged
and used anywhere, however the bottom floor, which has largely been cleared
is the best area to meet: several large tables and chairs line the walls.

Arrival: most of the crews can walk or use air/rafts to get to the Admin
Building. Some will double up, since most are "friends", while the loners can
easily approach. A few armed guards will block any curious outsiders but
they're few in number. Guns are asked to remain behind, but body pistols will
probably be present.

One of the organizers functions as a caterer, meaning he brings snacks and
champagne to the meeting along with some window dressing (table cloths). The
info will be relayed by installing a holo-display from the organizer's ship
at the site and running off building power (generator, cells etc).

The Pitch: is where the organizers offer enough money to get the trampers to
participate, but not enough to kill their own greed. At cr 20,000 per ton a
ship such as a Beowulf or Far Trader will cost cr ~1,200,000 (Mcr 1.2) but
net at market MCr 2.4 after costs! The organizers will leave a person at
market to monitor all shipping transactions, but offer each captain, 1 "free
load" (all profit) for every 5 they bring in. Payment for the other loads is
7% or cr 168,000, still very nice.

Trouble of course is start-up cash. The organizers want to run at least 6
ships each with 55 tons of cargo space for each run. Ideally they want 10.

Startup for 6 ships = Mcr 7.2, 10 ships is Mcr 12 within reason.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Latin Phrases:

"Worthwhile" -- 
"Rich Target" -- 
"Request your assistance" -- 

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

MPOS JOINING THE FRAY

The MPoS can easily join the fray, by alerting Ropolos to the steady arrival
of U-92 cargos. It turns out the MPoS run an interface line between Mertactor
and Glisten and have had a hand in hauling a good many of the cargos, since
they have a Hazmat License.

Eblin Scoxx
    The highest "ranking" member of the MPOS in the area, even above Surgat.
    He's come down from Lanth after selling a few hundred bars of gold to Heroni Mining Corp.
    He's been tasked with using the remaining gold (about 125 bars) for the startup on this venture
    mainly to launder it.
Johan Botis
    Viper, sharp & bright sword
    Albino.
    Another "high leader", also has about 50 bars of gold to dispose of.
Surgat
    He is listed as "Surgat who opens all locks."
    His office is to discover and transport all treasures and perform anything that you may will.
    Interface leader between Mertactor and Glisten.
Seere    
    He can go to any place on earth in a matter of seconds to accomplish the will of the conjurer, 
    bring abundance, help in finding hidden treasures or in robbery, and is not a demon of evil 
    but good nature, being mostly indifferent to evilness.    
    Teleporter ? Industrial Spy, strictly neutral. His main interest is in the job at hand and not getting caught.

These two can put together a purchasing syndicate to grab these cargos and
bring them to market on their own, allowing them to get a better price. They
can also use some of the gold Scoxx was unable to sell as startup capital for
the Arkesh group and their own. Scoxx can bring 6 or 7 additional ships which
can help take cargos and assist in transit into Glisten.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In addition to specific messages the MPOS will need their own messaging system for
the worlds they deal with that aren't on the x-boat route. This will probably be 
done by word of mouth to trampers on small routes who they can trust or are familiar
with.

Overnale is the main meeting place for the syndicate's inception. In
actuality Arkesh has already started transporting cargo, but will grudgingly
meet with the MPOS to avoid unneccessary warfare, since Flexos has more than
enough for everyone. Besides, having a few extra allies could come in handy
in the long run.

Overnale System Information - B45467A9
--------------------------------------
Starport         B    B - Good Quality Installation. Refined fuel is available, as is annual 
                            maintenance overhaul. A shipyard capable of building non-starships 
                            is present. A Travellers' Aid Society hostel is present at all 
                            locations within the Imperium, and at some locations outside the Imperium. 
Size             4    4000 miles (6400 km). 
Atmosphere       5    Thin. 
Hydrographics    4    40% water. 
Population       6    Millions of inhabitants. 
Government       7    Balkanization. 
Law Level        A     
Tech Level       9    Interstellar community. 

The meet will take place at the Admin Building which is undergoing a
refurbishment. Thanks to a break in construction the place is empty and
affords a nice, neutral, yet private place where 12+ "representatives" can
get together and layout the basic ground rules:

Names of ships and captains, also messengers.
Money lending in case of emergency.
Cooperation: where it starts and ends.
Good planets, bad planets.
Information on LSP or other "nosies", possible antagonists.

 

[Gadrin]

AU GLITTERS, SOMETIMES NOT

This is a way to entangle the pcs in speculative plot, possibly sinister
in nature...

ICARUS
KELAR SUBSECTOR
REAVERS DEEP SECTOR

Icarus System Information - C7598555
------------------------------------
Starport         C    C - Routine Quality Installation. Only unrefined fuel is
                          available. Reasonable repair facilities are present.
Size             7    7000 miles (1 1200 km).
Atmosphere       5    Thin.
Hydrographics    9    90% water.
Population       8    Hundreds of millions.
Government       5    Feudal Technocracy.
Law Level        5    Personal concealable weapons (such as pistols or revolvers
                        are prohibited.
Tech Level       5    circa 1900 to 1939.

[This assumes the pcs have a starship and are members of the crew]

LANDING ZONE BAR

After putting down the PCs will break up into two parties: the bridge
officers and the rest of the crew. Since the bridge officers have little
else to do, they can head to the LZ bar while the others clamp down and close up.

It's a blustery, windy night on Icarus and the two travel the 500 meters to
the LZ; a small, squat place that can barely hold 50 people or so. Outside
the door are a pair of men who look little more than thugs in crew suits.
They flash a light in the PCs faces but say nothing, remaining outside.

Inside, the LZ is well-lit and quite amenable. It looks more like a friendly
place than a hard-core dive. The PCs can grab the last empty table near the
back and relax until...

In comes an aslan male, toga over his fur and looking proud. He surveys the
crowd then orders a bottle from the barkeep containing a light-blue liquid:
Aquapur; the most expensive drink in the house. He walks around, studying
the entirely human customers before stopping at the PCs table and sitting down.

"Astronomical Units" is all he says. Blank looks.

"I'm here to conduct reconaissance on behalf of my clan," he says, "BUT UNDER NO
CIRCUMSTANCES WILL YOU MENTION MONEY OR PRICES," almost in a growl. His dewclaw
springs out, pops the top off the bottle and he smiles, offering drinks to the PCs.
"Now, show me your specimen."

After bewildering looks from the PCs (or witty retorts), a hiss can be heard.

Pssst. Pssst.

This causes the aslan to lean to the side and look past the PCs at the dark
alcove in the corner of the room. His nightvision makes out a robed human,
hiding behind crates.

The aslan gets up with the bottle and leans against the frame of the opening
to the alcove. The PCs can overhear parts of a conversation...

"Ay yoo, ay yoo" says the hoarse whisper.

"Ay yoo, astronomical units" replies the aslan.

"No! A-U...oh nevermind!"

The aslan feigns understanding before continuing...

"Why're you're hiding? This is silly. Which two men? You mean them?" he
points at the PCs. "I can kill them." Pause. "Oh, the ones at the front
door."

At this point the aslan walks back by, puts down his expensive bottle of
booze along with a handcomp he seems to have acquired. The handcomp's
touchscreen display is flashing: PAUSE. The aslan flexes his paws and arms
like a martial artist and strolls to the front door. It opens and the two
thugs stare inside. He exits, closes the door behind him and almost
immediately sounds of a struggle can be heard. The glass on the door is
shattered; this causes the barkeep to grab a club and hurdle the bar. He
begins screaming at the aslan when he returns.

"WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO MY DOOR ? I HOPE YOU CAN PAY FOR THIS..."

The PCs notice the hooded figure has now emerged from the alcove. He's
holding a body pistol. He scoops up the handcomp nervously, accidently
triggering the recording. A holographic display of a gold bar pops up and
rotates around twice, before the man can shut it off. The display had some
metric information in both aslan and galanglic too.

The PCs can see clearly that the hooded figure is a human albino. He quickly
makes his way to the aslan and pays the barkeep for the damage.

"AND DON'T COME BACK!" screams the barkeep, slamming the door after they
leave.

It opens shortly and the aslan sticks his head in -- the barkeep threatens
him with violence. The aslan sticks two claws in his mouth and whistles,
motioning for the PCs to bring him his bottle of Aquapur.

When they get to the door, the PCs spot both thugs in a heap. One is
trying to get up, but after taking command of the bottle, the aslan knees him
in the face, putting him down and out.

The aslan nods towards the PCs and he and the albino disappear into the howling
darkness.

The balance of the PCs crew arrive several minutes later. They say just as
they were leaving the ship a sleek, aslan J-3 courier was taking off...

* * * * *

It's just after last call and the PCs are returning to their ship, It's nice out
now, the wind has died down.

The PCs spot a Serpent-class scout they saw earlier on the tarmac; taking off from the
starport.

The starship hovers then climbs slowly in a graceful arc over a nearby tangle
of trees/forest. Suddenly a light streaks up from the trees, reminiscent of
the Patriot missiles from the gulf war. Moving very fast, it strikes the
bottom of the Serpent resulting in a spectacular explosion. The craft continues on,
spinning before it falters and falls, spiraling down, lost beyond the
immediate horizon before a massive fireball rises up from the distant spot.

A cry from off to the left of the PCs reveals a hooded figure clutching a
thick briefcase, stepping out from the landing gear of a nearby ship,
back-lit by the ship's belly lights.

"No, no, no!" he wails. It's the albino...

OTHER THINGS

Aslan is returning to HRIKEI via the courier to deliver the handcomp after
seeing the actual gold bar. He has no idea what it is worth. He does make a
few tentative plans with the albino:

    1. His clan will send a female to bring payment in Imperial
       Credits. It will take two weeks. The albino is to wait for
       their return.

    2. If the place is too "hot" for the albino, he suggests he
       jump to TULENA and gives him a likely place to stay. The
       aslan won't be party to "hiding" any more than he would
       monetary quibbling. ;)
      
The albino is trying to evade a group of ISLAIAT traders who are working with
DAKAAR MINERALS. The albino's group approached DM, but they were almost
murdered in an attempt to steal the gold. They fled ISLAIAT space (and stay
beyond Aslan borders) by heading to Icarus. They heard of an "honorable"
aslan clan and contacted them, this is what's going on currently.

The aslan is a member of the YEHASO clan who control the TLASAYERLAAHEL corporation.

Tulena System Information - D7463007
------------------------------------
Starport         D    D - Poor Quality Installation. Only unrefined 
                                  fuel is available.
                            No repair or shipyard facilities are present.
Size             7    7000 miles (1 1200 km).
Atmosphere       4    Thin, tainted.
Hydrographics    6    60% water.
Population       3    Thousands of inhabitants.
Government       0    No government.
Law Level        0    No laws affecting weapons possession or ownership.
Tech Level       7    circa 1970 to 1989.

Tulena is little more than a crowded colony that's trying to gain support for
a terraforming initiative. Amongst those present are researchers and
scientists who are prepping the planet for the decades-long process. Aslan
traders coming from the Hierate's borders use the world as a stopping-off
point. The Grand Duchy of Marlheim has little interest in the world since it
doesn't offer much at this point. Taking the world is within their grasp, but
would stretch the Duchy's power to the limit. What no one knows is that
TLASAYERLAAHEL maintains a Uranium mine on the planet's arctic circle,
discovered from a meteor gash in the surface. The chilly spot offers about
400 tons per month, year-round and TLASAYERLAAHEL markets most of it inside
the Hierate and some outside. Both Dakaar Minerals and Ling Standard Products
would love to find out about this item; not to mention the Grand Duchy. In
the meantime the aslans are reaping the rewards.