Turn 2
The streets glowed a sickly mixture of reds, pinks, and purples. A light evening rain had begun to fall and the press of the pedestrian traffic threatened to spill over into the road, where ground cars packed bumper to bumper stopped and started as they negotiated the evening traffic. Two figures in drab rain slickers passed through the crowd.
“Captain, would you mind explaining what we are doing here?” P'Hol asked Dask as she looked around at the lurid advertising of Calhoun City's vice district.
“We're going To the Shangri La, an exclusive bordello for the social and economic elite of Harlen’s World.” Dask replied.
P'Hol glared at Dask.
“Even if I could afford it, I'm not interested.” P'Hol said
Dask chuckled, then shook his head.
“You can relax. We're going to meet our new client. If Midori wasn't confined to sick bay she'd be going instead of you,” Dask replied.
“Why a bothel?” P’Hol asked.
“Deniability and discretion. I've heard the Shang goes to great lengths to preserve the privacy of their clients, which makes it ideal for meetings that you don’t want others to know about. Our new client set it up after all.” Dask said.
They rounded a corner and found themselves in front of their destination. The lobby to the building was panelled with real wood, and the moment they were through the door an impeccably dressed receptionist and two bruisers in tight fitting formalwear watched them with intent.
“Good evening, and welcome to Shangri La. I'm afraid that we are An invitation only establishment. If you would prefer I can direct you to our other open access clubs?” The receptionist asked in a firm, but seductive voice as Dask And P'Hol approached.
Dask smiled and produced a small card of black metal with gold etching from his inner jacket pocket.
“Good evening. I do have an invitation.” Dask said as he placed the card etching facing up on the desk.
“One moment please,” the receptionist said as she looked down at the card.
Dask noticed a subtle blue flicker in her eyes as the receptionist’s discreet ocular cybernetics processed the etching on the card and extracted all the necessary information. Once the receptionist was finished, she looked up at Dask and smiled.
“Mister Donovan and guest. My apologies. I’ll have you shown to your room.” the receptionist said, then tapped a control on the desk.
A moment later, a man dressed in a tuxedo appeared from a side door.
“Follow me, please,” he said, then led Dask and P'Hol into an elevator, up to the penthouse floor, then into a luxurious appointed receiving room.
“Through there, once you are done please use the comm panel by the door to summon a chaperone to see you out. Have a wonderful time,” the man said.
Dask and P'Hol stepped through the door and found themselves in a room that reeked of a severe opulence that they rarely saw directly. Real wood, artisanally made furniture, a lit fireplace that softly crackled, gleaming silver fittings, and a large and luxurious bed.
A man sat in a chair by the fire. The man wore a white collared grey suit and his fingers and neck were festooned with gold and diamond jewellery. He was gaunt but tall, with severely slicked back white hair and steel grey eyes.
The man regarded Dask and P'Hol for a moment, then stood up.
“Mister Donovan, I'm glad you consented to this meeting. My name is Hayes Jessop, who is your companion?” Hayes asked as he approached and shook Dask's hand.
Patron: Wealthy Individual
Danger Pay: +3 credits and roll twice pick highest
Benefit: Connections, gain 1 rumour
Patron Mission Details:
Hazard: Veteran Opposition
Conditions: None
“A pleasure, Mister Jessop. My companion is P'Hol Tkan. She is acting for my executive officer while she is in the sick bay.” Dask said.
Hayes turned to P'Hol and shook her hand.
“Thank you for coming, please take a seat and let us begin,” Hayes said as he gestured towards a couch opposite of Hayes's chair.
They sat, then Hayes took a gold plated vaporiser from his jacket and took a hit of something that smelled vaguely like cinnamon.
“I don’t know how you got your hands on that data from Yetrium, and I'm sure it is none of my business, but that demonstrates that you are willing to take risks, and I need a crew that is capable of taking those risks and coming out better for it. Of course, the nature of the kind of work I'd get you to do means that I need to keep you at arms length. I hope that isn't an issue?” Hayes asked.
“No, of course not. Confidentiality is guaranteed,” Dask replied.
“Good, then let me begin. Have you heard of the New Beckfort Remediation Zone?” Hayes asked.
“Yes, Harlen’s world had a much more developed series of urban centres. Sometime during the Third Converter War Harlen’s world was subject to a few weapons of mass destruction strikes. The city of New Beckfort was struck with multiple thermonuclear warheads. After the war the entire area was declared a remediation zone and left for re-wilding and decontamination efforts.” Dask replied.
“Correct, about ten years ago the status of remediation zone status was lifted and much of the land was sold by the Harlen’s World Assembly to interested parties. I purchased much of the old central business district. I had intended to preserve the overgrown ruins as a monument to the sentients that were lost on Harlen’s World during the Third Converter War, as well as build a museum on site and dedicate much of the land as a nature reserve. The problem occurred after my surveyors went into the area. It turns out that a family of Gellec had moved into the area and had evaded detection until my unfortunate employees stumbled across their nest.” Hayes said.
“I have not heard of the Gellec.” P’Hol remarked.
Hayes smiled, then shook his head.
“If you’ve seen the crest of Harlen’s World you would recognise them. They are a species native to the original biosphere of Harlen’s World before colonisation. They adapted to human terraforming efforts very well and now are the apex predator of the final stable ecosystem. Unfortunately due to this position, and their status on our planetary crest, they are a protected species. They are a primate analogue with a carbon based chemistry, it is also currently hotly debated in xenobiology circles if they are sentient or not. So they occupy a strange liminal position, not quite a simple animal,” Hayes said.
“My problem is that the Department of Land and Oceans is going to declare my property a protected habitat for the Gellec, meaning I’m now sitting on land that I have an obligation to maintain and cannot use for my desired purposes. So I need those Gellec moved on, one way or the other, without having to go through the necessary channels to arrange a cull of the creatures, a request that I’m certain will be denied. If a party of poachers were to learn of the creatures and take it upon themselves to go into the area and hunt the creatures for sport, it would hardly be my fault.” Hayes continued, then smiled a wolfish smile, then took his vaporiser out and took another hit.
“I think we understand each other, I personally have no compunctions about taking this job. What is the proposed rate?” Dask asked.
Hayes took a notebook and fountain pen out of his jacket pocket and wrote something down. He then tore the sheet out of the notebook, then passed the figure to Dask.
Dask studied the figure and whistled softly. It was good money, generous but not world changing. Appropriate pay for a high paying and questionably legal job. Dask then scrunched up the paper and threw it in the fireplace.
“I can also put you in contact with some animal smugglers. The hides of the creatures are quite a commodity when sold to the right buyer,” that should supplement your pay nicely,” Hayes said.
“That would be appreciated, thank you,” Dask replied.
“Good, then you accept this contract?” Hayes asked.
Mission: Secure
Enemies: Roving Threats - Korg (Gellec)
Dask looked over at P’Hol, who returned the gaze without emotion.
“On behalf of my crew, we accept this contact,” Dask replied.
“Excellent,” Hayes murmured, then reached for a data slate and placed it on the coffee table between them.
“All of the relevant details are on that slate, I’ll have drone recon of the area so I will be able to confirm that you have carried out this job to my satisfaction. Once the contract is complete I will wire you your fee,” Hayes got up gave Dask and P’Hol a polite bow.
“If you have no further questions I will be off. I expect you to wait in this room for at least an hour and a half, that would convince any observers that you were here on your own business rather than here to see me. If you like, can I have the house send someone up that suits your respective tastes?” Hayes asked with a wry smile.
“No thank you, Mister Jessop,” P’Hol said, curtly, then glared at Dask.
Dask grinned sheepishly, then shook his head.
“Maybe next time…” Dask muttered.
“Suite yourselves, best of luck to you and your crew,” Hayes said, then left, the wooden door banged shut behind him.
Dask and P’Hol stood up and paced around the room for a moment, getting some distance between one another.
“So, we’re stuck here for at least an hour…” Dask said.
“Yes, captain. We are,” P’Hol replied, then let our a slight sigh.
Dask looked over at her. P’Hol walked over to the large, oversized bed, kicked off her boots then flopped onto it.
“It is soft,” she murmured as she stretched out and adjusted the pillows more to her liking.
Dask walked over to the bar and prepared two glasses. He studied the selection of liqueurs and ended up fixing himself a Vodka and soda, and a second one as well. Dask carried the two drinks over to the bed, then placed them on the nightstand.
P’Hol watched with curiosity as Dask manipulated the control slate on the nightstand, and found the controls for room’s holo projector.
“All right,” Dask hissed as he switched to a channel that played re-runs of year old soccer games from the core worlds.
At the foot of the bed and slightly elevated from it a scene from last year's NorthAm versus Vega West match began to play out.
“Scoot over,” Dask asked as he sat on the bed and kicked off his own boots.
P’Hol regarded him with uncertainty for a moment, then did as instructed.
“Drink?” Dask asked as he offered P’Hol the second Vodka and soda.
P’Hol hesitated for a moment, then took it.
“Cheers,” Dask said as he raised his glass and held it towards P’Hol.
P’Hol raised her own glass and tapped it on the rim of Dask’s with a merry clink.
P’Hol watched Dask as he lay back, sipped his drink and watched the game with interest.
“Captain, are you comfortable in a place like this?” P’Hol asked.
“Yes, born and raised rich, grew up a brat with more money than sense. I lost my virginity in a place like this, paid for by my own father. How about you, P’Hol. Tell me of your life and loves before you signed on to my crew,” Dask replied in a jaunty tone.
P’Hol hesitated for a moment, then spoke.
“Only one, a human. He was the shuttle pilot for the mercenary group that I worked with before signing on with you,” P’Hol replied, the tone of her voice went soft as she begun to replay old memories over in her mind.
“Oh, and where is he now?” Dask asked with a smile.
“Dead,” P’Hol said as she looked away, then took a long sip of her drink.
Dask lay there for a moment as he contemplated how insensitive he had just been.
“I’m sorry, P’Hol. It was not my intention to upset you,” Dask replied as he looked over at P’Hol.
“No, it is okay. He was brave… I was with the ground team, we had completed our objectives but our target’s garrison was converging on our evac zone. We were on the verge of being overrun and we were under fire. He came in low and fast, dodging ground fire, belching countermeasures, there was a second when I thought my man would swoop down and save me, save all of us. But as he slowed down for the final touchdown a heat seeker smashed into the middle of the shuttle, the reactor was breached and detonated. He didn’t even have time to understand what had happened. He was there one moment, then he wasn’t, reduced to atoms and a few small pieces of flaming debris,” P’Hol paused to take another sip of her drink, a few tears trickled out of her eyes, which she dried with a quick wipe from her sleeve.
“We surrendered after that, captured by the local planetary militia. We were licensed mercs with Unity, which saved us from being executed outright. Instead we were sentenced to three years in a penal colony… My comrades didn’t all make it out, and those of us that did decided to go our separate ways. Those were bad years,” P’Hol said, almost at a whisper.
Dask didn’t reply, instead he reached over to P’Hol, took her hand and gave it what he hoped was a reassuring squeeze.
“I’m honoured that you chose my crew to fly with after all you’ve been through,” Dask said as he looked her in the eyes with a smile.
P’Hol smiled back.
“Thank you, Dask,” she replied.
Dask and P’Hol lay in silence for the next hour and a half watching soccer and getting buzzed on Vodka and sodas until the chaperone returned and had to rouse them from their half drunk state and throw them out onto the street.
Other Crew Actions
Dask, P’Hol - Decoy
Estra - Explore - Saw the sights
Whillem - Trade - Purchased ordnance (3 flakk grenades)
Shoutheri - Explore - Had a nice chat
Rival Roll - No Rival Activity
