Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Three Mission and Aftermath, Ambush in the Boneyard - Five Parsecs from Home

Battlefield Conditions - Gloomy

“Spread out, my brother’s flunkies are here!” Dask hissed as he gestured for P’Hol to cover him, then gestured for Whillem and Shoutheri to fan out up front. Estra took one step backward, then turned on her heel and faded away into the night.

“Where are you going!” Dask hissed at Estra, but she was already gone.

Estra ignored Dasks protests, she fought to control her breathing and glided through the darkness like a wraith, going wide around the gantries and darted from cover to cover as she closed in from the other side.

Shoutheri and Whilem grabbed positions under a decaying gantry by a mostly rusted through tank. Shoutheri readied his laser rifle and switched on the new battle sight, while Whilem cycled the action of the Auto-Rifle that he had withdrawn from storage and braced it against a decaying support pylon.

The sound of pounding boots on asphalt and the wooping of gangers psyching themselves up for a fight sounded from up ahead, and out of the murky dark. The lead ganger, a woman with an impressive hairdo clutched a crude flamer scanned the ground ahead for targets, and clapped eyes on Shoutheri first. Behind her, a rat faced ganger with a vibroblade revved the mechanism and grinned as he charged forward.

Estra stopped in the shadows as she caught sight of the approaching mob of gangers. She drew her shotgun, braced it and fired.

One of the gangers went down in a heap as his torso took the majority of the buckshot. His comrades gasped in horror, but turned their attention to Estra and charged.

The ganger with a flamer paused and braced her weapon, then sent a gout of flame arcing towards Shoutheri. Shoutheri took the brunt of it, and fell to the ground cursing and yelling. He rolled around in an attempt to smother the chemical fire. Whilem opened fire, and cut down the ganger with the flamer with an abrupt burst of machine gun fire.

Dask and P’Hol scrambled up a nearby ladder and found themselves on top of the gantry, in the perfect position to envelope the mob of gamers with incoming fire. P’Hol darted off to one side, dropped to one knee and fired a short burst at the ganger carrying the vibroblade. The shots hit home and the ganger went down in a heap. Dask stode forward and squared off with another ganger coming up the stairs of the gantry. The two men traded shots without hitting one another. Two gangers closed in on Estra and loosed shotgun blasts and pistol shots, but Estra faded into the dark long before their shots could find her.

Dask raised his hand cannon and squinted down the sights at the oncoming ganger, then held his breath and squeezed the trigger.

Dask’s shot hit the man in the head, who fell backward and came to rest on the stairs.

Estra darted out of cover for a split second, raised her shotgun and fired.

The shot caught another ganger, sending him to the ground.

The surviving gangers tried to dive for cover, but they were covered from up high and down low. Autorifle fire from Whilem and machine-pistol fire from P’Hol killed another. The only remaining ganger screamed in terror as he realised the futility of his situation and turned and ran.

Dask strode forward, sighted the fleeing man in, but didn’t fire. Instead he holstered his pistol and called out to him.

“You tell my pissant brother that you are going to have to do better than that!”

Dask then looked down to see Whilem tending to an unmoving Shoutheri.

”The burns are superficial, I’ve shot him full of painkillers, but nothing permanent.” Whillem said.

“All right, looks like we’ll have to cancel our meeting with ETU and get back to the Hand of Fortune. Let’s back it up and get moving before the enforcers arrive.”

Turn 3 Aftermath

Shoutheri sat on the lounge in the Hand of Fortune while Whilem applied another layer of burn foam over the side that had caught the worst of the flame blast.

“You’re very lucky, Shoutheri. The damage seems almost all superficial, it won’t even scar,” Whillem said.

Shouteri nodded, then leaned back.

“I almost dodged it, next time I’ll be a bit quicker on my feet,” Shoutheri replied.

Post Battle Injury for Shoutheri - School of Hard Knocks

“Dask?” P’Hol called out as she jogged into the lounge.

“Yes?”

“There is a man who claims to be from the Valeris Syndicate at the ramp. He wishes to speak with you. He came alone,” P’Hol said.

“Lead the way,” Dask instructed as he followed P’Hol down the ramp into the cool night air.

A small man with thick rimless glasses and dressed in a designer trench coat waited at the bottom of the ramp. Estra stood nearby and leaned on one of the landing struts, she had her shotgun cradled in her arms as she studied the man.

Dask approached the man and looked down at him.

“I’m Dask, is this about the incident that occurred earlier this evening?”

The man smiled at Dask and politely bowed his head.

“Yes, my name is Cherrun Signh, Envoy for the Valeris Syndicate. I come before you to express my profound sympathy and regret for this evening's earlier trouble. Rest assured, the attempted hit on you had indeed been arranged by Ernst Donovan, your brother I believe?”

Dask nodded and let Cherrun continue.

“Well, the leadership council for Harlen’s World did not sanction this hit. They have voted to remove Ernst Donovan from his leadership position and expel him from the Syndicate for his actions.”

A brief flash of worry crossed Dask’s mind, as much as Ernst deserved whatever fate he got, he was still his brother.

“What are you going to do with Ernst?” Dask asked.

“If Ernst was anyone else we would fly him out to a remote corner of Harlen’s world, put a bullet in his head, and leave his corpse for the Gellec. But given who he is and his connection to your father, we’ve expelled him from the Syndicate and he is currently boarding the next coreward liner under escort. We will deliver him to his father and explain the situation to him.”

Dask suppressed a smile as he heard this. With an embarrassing incident like this on his record, Ernst was now guaranteed to be out of the running for the inheritance of the family business, and hopefully that meant that none of his other brothers and sisters would try to take a shot at him in order to remove him from the competition.

“Good, I appreciate the mercy. I don’t like him, but for better and worse he is family,” Dask replied.

Post Battle Rival Roll - Rival gives up

“Along with this apology I also wish to convey an invitation for a meeting with representatives of the leadership council of Harlen’s World. You handled our people well and we could always use reliable professionals for situations where our own shooters aren’t up for the task. Are you interested?” Cherrun asked.

“Of course, I’d be happy to take the meeting,” Dask replied.

“Splendid, well, here are my contact details,” Cherrun said as he took a thin card out of a breast pocket and passed it to Dask.

Dask looked at it for a moment and saw that it was a series of unmarked network nodes and hidden interface ports with a couple of encryption keys. He put the card in his pocket and nodded.

“Thank you, Envoy Singh, I’m grateful that the Syndicate doesn’t wish to indulge my brother’s vendetta against me,” Dask said.

Cherrun smiled, “goodnight, Mister Donovan,” he said, then turned to leave.

Dask watched the small man disappear into the late evening murk.

Campagin Event - Made some business contacts (Valeris Syndicate)

Dask turned around and studied Estra, who in turn stared back with a vaguely sour expression. P’Hol glared back at Estra for a moment, then headed back up the ramp.

“Something to say, sir?” Estra asked with a little bit of sass in her tone.

Dask sighed, walked up to Estra and leaned on the landing strut next to her.

“You’re a stone cold killer, Estra, I’ll give you that. You handled yourself well and I appreciate it.”

“Thank you, Dask, I thought I could get around behind them while they were distracted. It worked out pretty well.” Estra replied.

“Yeah it did, but I did notice something. Your eyes, they’ve got a blue tinge around the edges. How long have you been using Blue Sap and are you still using?” Dask asked, bluntly.

Estra glared for a moment, an expression of vulnerable fury on her face, which quickly morphed into resignation.

“No, I almost screwed up today, but I’m not using right now. I’ve been clean years.”

Dask didn’t reply, instead he nodded.

“Listen, sir. I don’t want to get kicked out, I just got here and I want to make this work. The pay is good and you don’t seem like the worst boss I could’ve landed.” Estra said, almost in a panic.

“It’s okay, I admit, I wouldn’t have hired you. But Midori vouched for you quite strongly and I trust her judgement, now I’m beginning to see why. I’ve now come around to Midori’s point of view, but that is predicated on you staying off the sap, I need my crew to be able to see the galaxy with sober eyes,” Dask said.

“I… Thank you, Dask.” Estra replied.

“I don’t think we need anyone on sentry now, go inside and get some rest,” Dask told Estra.

Estra nodded, then headed up the ramp.

Battlefield Salvage - Vibroblade, Tracker Sight

Character Event - Dask, Time to move on but no effect because character is not currently in sick bay.

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Three Pre Mission - Five Parsecs from Home

***

“You won’t be able to repair it without a new phasing coil, even if our onboard printer had the resolution we don’t have the materials for it,” Whilem said to Estra as he watched her working on his Blaster, which currently sat disassembled on a cleaning cloth in front of Estra.

Estra studied the phasing coil from multiple angles. At one stage it consisted of thousands of nano-scale superconductive wires wrapped around and connecting to a charge capacitor. The coil rather than being bright copper in colour had warped and discoloured from heat damage, and there was no disguising the ballooning sections of the charge capacitor, even if Estra was able to somehow un-fuse all of the nano-scale wiring, Whilem knew he would not feel comfortable firing an energy weapon with a charge capacitor on the verge of a spectacular failure.

They stood over a bench in the Hand of Fortune’s small machine and repair shop. While it was within spec for repairing starship components their reserve of spare parts for non-starship systems was small to non-existent.

“It is a unitised component, designed to be replaced after about five thousand shots. I don’t know where Dask purchased all of these small arms, but I believe that weapon has been used without maintenance well beyond its projected service life,” Whilem said.

“And we have no budget for this kind of maintenance, unless we pay for it out of our own wages?” Estra said with a frustrated tone.

“No,” Whilem said as he tested the weld on his boarding sabre that he had been attempting to mend. Almost immediately the simple join began to bend and give way.

Whilem sighed as well and put the weapon aside.

“Without proper materials and access to a grade three machine shop I wouldn’t trust any fix on this. Let’s go and see the captain.” Whilem grumbled.

“What are we going to say?” Estra asked.

“Let me handle it, we need to make it clear that we’ll need to pay for non-ship related expenses, especially if he drags us into more hot jobs like the last couple.” Whilem replied.

Whillem and Estra attempted to repair equipment, but both failed.

***

Dask and P’Hol found a new Patron Mission

Dask took a deep breath and sat down in the lounge on board the Hand of Fortune; he was alone, for the moment. The large couch that had been fitted by default still bore the livery of a long defunct passenger cruise line, and despite a decade in service the fit out crew had done an admirable job of restoring it. Dask let himself sink in the couch and closed his eyes.

The initial meeting with ETU had been productive and for his trouble Dask now had a new job for his crew. ETU, despite its name, was not the largest terraforming company in Unified Space, let alone Harlen’s World. They are a small player in a competitive market as every magnate in the core with money to spend was more than happy to burn it on moonshot terraforming investments in case they happen to pay back a century later with land rights to the next hottest tourist destination for the galaxy’s wealthy elite.

Harlen’s World had its own long history. It had endured being on the frontlines on multiple galactic wars, and during the last major Converter invasion, Harlen’s World had been subjected to a nuclear bombardment from both Unity and Converter warships, and the vicious on the ground fighting caused even more devastation. The population had fallen by almost three quarters, either dead, missing, or fled. Centuries later, the planet’s biosphere had mostly recovered, but the original settled population hadn’t bounced back. In the hinterlands there were massive abandoned towns and cities, either overgrown or fallen to ruins, and those ruins weren’t always unoccupied, which was the main thrust of ETU’s work.

The job was a simple one. ETU had deployed some remote weather monitoring stations some months back in an area that had been settled by a survivalist collective. ETU had decided that they would rather risk the lives of freelancers than their own employees to retrieve the weather station data. The problem was that the site was not easily accessible by air, so they would have to hike in through the survivalist’s territory first, and their leader had a bounty on their head for robbing outlying homesteads and towns.

Patron Job

Objective: Move Through

Notable Sights: Priority Targets

Opponents: Criminal Elements - Gunslingers

Dask heard the sound of footsteps coming from the machine shop and into the lounge. Dask opened his eyes and sat up as Whillem and Estra entered the lounge.

“Captain, we have a request,” Whillem said as he faced down Dask.

“Go on,” Dask said.

“We’re going to need a budget for equipment repairs,” Whilem declared.

“Okay, I’ll consider it after the payment from the next job comes through, but for now draw something from the armoury.” Dask replied.

Estra was about to speak up, but Whilem reached out and gently touched her wrist. As he did Estra closed her mouth and looked up at Whilem with an expression of petulant impatience.

“Estra, did you have something you want to say?” Dask asked.

“No, it’s not important,” Estra said with a sigh.

“Well, don’t go far. Once Shoutheri get’s back we’ve got an appointment at ETU’s office to go over the details of the next job this evening.” Dask said.

“Yes, sir,” Estra replied and sulked off.

Whilem shook his head, then headed towards the ship’s galley.

Dask didn’t have to wait long, he heard the sound of Shoutheri’s footsteps coming up the entry ramp. As Shoutheri strode into the lounge Dask nodded to Shoutheri.

“Shoutheri,” Dask said.

“Donovan,” Shoutheri replied, then strode off to his cabin.

Shoutheri Action - Explore - Found Trainer

Ten minutes later the crew had assembled and they set off towards ETU’s office for the briefing for the upcoming job.

The sun had set and the city lights of Calhoun City were winking to existence. The route to the ETU offices was through a low traffic industrial area. The area was a hell of rusting gantries and catwalks, most of it was old cargo handling and refining infrastructure that had long since been abandoned and left to rust. Few lived here except for the homeless, and others that didn’t want to be found.

“Hello friendos,” a voice called out from somewhere ahead of Dask and his party.

Dask and the party halted in their tracks as they spotted figures moving ahead of them.

“Good evening,” Dask replied and gestured for everyone to fan out, he then drew his gun and held it at the low ready by his side.

“Dask Donovan, my man. You are difficult to find. We’ve got a message from your brother,” the voice replied.

“Dask?” P’Hol asked as she dropped into a low crouch.

“We’ve got trouble,” Dask replied.

Rival Ambush

Deployment Condition: Gloomy

Notable Sights: Loot Cache

Rival Attack Roll - Brought Friends

Enemy Type: Criminal Elements - Gangers 7 opponents, 2 specialists

 

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Estra's Interstitial - Five Parsecs from Home

Estra sat on a pedestrian overpass that spanned across Navarro Boulevard, which ran almost the full length of Calhoun City’s north western quarter. She sat on the cold hard concrete of the structure and dangled her legs over the edge, which she swung back and forth in the open air as she leaned forward with her chin on the lower railing and watched the slow movements of the late afternoon pedestrian traffic. Every now and then she heard the hurried footsteps as people crossed the overpass behind her. Apart from that she had it to herself, and the local enforcers were nowhere to be seen. Estra decided that she would have another good half an hour to meditate at this spot before the enforcers would force her to move along.

Estra closed her eyes and cast her mind back to the events of the past twenty four hours. The flight out to the ruined, overgrown, reclamation zone, the trek through the forest, the fight against the Gellec, then the incident in the medical bay with Whillem. At that point Estra’s train of thought came crashing to a halt, and a lingering pulse of deep embarrassment welled up from within her.

Whillem’s creamy orange fur, in that moment had brought back a memory that had long since faded into the murk of her deep memory back into sharp relief in that moment. The feeling of Whillem’s fur in her hands, it had the exact same texture and colour of a stuffed toy that her parents had gifted her as a juvenile. She had slept with it every night until the beginning of her second decade, at which point it remained on the shelf and only came down at moments of great emotional distress to act as a source of comfort, and after the annexation of Estra’s homeworld there were many nights where that comfort was required.

Her mother and father were followers of Vralu, a major fertility deity within the Precursor pantheon. They had forsworn most high technology and instead opted for a life of simple pastoralism on the small colony world of Berslae that other followers of Vralu had first colonised centuries ago. She had been a difficult child; while her parents were devoted followers of Vralu, Estra had always been curious and inquisitive about the high technology of both her race and the wider galaxy, which put her at odds with her community. Breslae lay on the Precursor - K’Erin frontier and had been the subject of much K’Erin sabre rattling for generations, citing ancient treaties and survey claims. Eventually all of this boiled over into a short war of annexation, and as pacifists, the colonists of Breslae didn’t resist and surrendered to the K’Erin without a fight.

The K’Erin mostly left the followers of Vralu alone, aside from enforcing a modest tithe of the colonists' agricultural produce. Over the years the K’Erin built up a small fleet base and colony on the world. This meant that Estra had found herself with a fascinating source of high technology, the occupying K’Erin and their colonists.
Estra began to sneak into depots and stockpiles; she used bootlegged technical manuals to learn how to bypass locks and disable security systems. The K’Erin eventually caught her and deported her to a prison colony for twenty long years as punishment for her crimes. Those years broke and remade Estra, she endured the tournaments of her fellow inmates, and draconian punishments of her jailers. When the K’Erin finally released Estra, she knew she had been permanently changed by the experience.

Where Esta was once a curious and young precursor, barely out of her family’s household, there was now a jittery, damaged, and deranged woman; a shadow of the graceful being she once was. She couldn’t bear the thought of going home and letting her parents see her like this, so she drifted up and down the fringes for a hundred years, stealing, trading, and tinkering to support herself. For all she knew, her parents still made their home on Breslae and had kept that soft toy up on the shelf to this day.

Estra looked over her shoulder as she heard someone approaching from behind her. One hand drifted to the grip of the sawn off shotgun buried in the fold of her robes, but that impulse faded the moment she recognised the scraggly faced skulker that had approached her.

“Ah, so that was you, Estra. I knew I’d recognise that mound of rags anywhere.” the Skulker said.

“Azdel, I’m happy to see you,” Estra said with a smile as she leaned over and patted the concrete next to her.

“Care to sit a while and contemplate the view?” she asked.

“Of course, always a delight,” Azdel said as he shimmied over and slipped his legs over the side.

Azdel was in many ways like her, a misfit in his own way, but Skulkers tended to have a better time of it than other races. While Estra had a fascination with technology, Azdel had a fascination with religion and philosophy, and collected them as one a more mundane hobbyist would collect rare coins. Azdel’s neck and wrists were laden with necklaces and bracelets that hung with the icons of a hundred different religions from all of the races of the galaxy. The old skulker now looked at Estra out of the corner of his eye and smiled.

“How long has it been since you were last on Harlen’s World? You don’t appear to have aged one bit.” Azdel said.

“Twenty years, and I see that time has not ravaged you as much as I thought it would’ve,” Estra replied.

“I’m young in spirit, how have you fared since our last meeting?” Azdel asked.

“I’m doing better. A friend of mine, Midori, got me a spot on a crew. I’m going to see how long this lasts, but so far it has worked out okay. How about you, Az?”

“I’m now matching buyers to sellers in the agricultural trades business. I’ve pulled out of the antiquities business, there are too many forgeries floating around, it was tanking the market value for legitimate finds. The agricultural commissions are decent, but trade is slowing down, and the corps are starting to muscle in directly. I’m going to have to find something else soon. I ran with an independent crew, back in my youth. It can be lucrative, but it can just as easily kill you while you’re young. No, this life suits me now. Adventure is for the young ones.” Azdel said as he shivered a little bit and pulled his jacket tighter around his body to keep out the wind chill.

“I think I’ve been going it alone for too long, I’m going to try to make the most of this opportunity, I don’t think I have scared them off yet, I hope,” Estra said with less conviction than she felt.

“I also have a nice cabin, it is small but it is warm and cosy. I thought I got used to never sleeping in the same spot two decades ago, but this has reminded me of how much I miss a nice, safe place where I can sleep without worry that I’m going to get robbed, or murdered.” Estra realised that she was beginning to ramble.

Azdel smiled and reached over and clapped Estra on the shoulder.

“I’m happy for you, last time we met you really weren’t all there. But you seem to be doing well now, I like this change.” Azdel said.

Estra looked away from Azdel and studied the toes of her boots. A trace of anxiety began to gnaw at her, the fear of going back to that time welled up in her again.

“Listen, Az. Do you still have your side business?” Estra asked as a terrible feeling of want rose up from deep within her psyche.

Azdel blinked, then looked away. The old skulker had contacts on Harlen’s World and could barely break even on the assorted schemes and enterprises that he had up in the air. Azdel’s real source of income was his connection with smugglers and all of the wildly illegal narcotics that they brought in from labs hidden beyond the reach of Unity.

“You appear to be in a good place right now, I’d rather not ruin that for you,” Azdel replied in a cautious tone.

“I know, but listen. I’ve been clean for years, but if I have a bad time and need to take the edge off it I would like to have a little stash that I can draw on.” Estra said.

This was Estra’s secret shame, the prison colony that she had been sent was awash with narcotics. The first time she had broken the colony’s rules she was sentenced to a caning. A human inmate took pity on her and gave her half a gram of Blue Willow Sap to ease the pain of the punishment. Blue Willow Sap was an excellent pain killer, a powerful euphoric agent, and tremendously addictive. Soon enough, Estra found that she couldn’t live without it, as the intense feelings that the drug brought on made the misery of the prison colony more tolerable, and even after she had been released she had never quite managed to kick the habit, and not for lack of trying. The last few years she had stayed away from the stuff, but often as she tried to meditate or lay awake at night, in those quiet moments of thought and contemplation, the carvings came back. At another time Azdel had enabled her addiction, she must have fenced hundreds of credits of stolen, salvaged, and repaired technology to him in exchange for a steady supply of the Sap.

Azdel sighed in a very human manner and turned to look her in the eyes.

“Can you pay?” Azdel asked.

Estra took a credit chit out of a pocket and was about to hand it over. She held a good chunk of her remaining sign on bonus in her hand and was about to drop it in Azdel’s paw. Before she could Azdel shook his head, withdrew and stood up.

“No, I can’t do this to you. I won’t. Get help, Estra, and whatever gods you keep, may they guide you through this safely.” Azdel said, then turned and walked away.

“Wait, come back!” Estra yelled as she scrambled to her feet and began to follow, but Azdel stepped up his pace and disappeared into the crowds.

Estra stood there for a moment and felt another fresh bout of shame wash over her. She had been doing so well, clean of her Sap problem for years and in a moment of weakness she almost had ruined it like this had done many times before. She felt the old, familiar sense of self loathing rise up as she turned around and walked away.

She climbed down from the overpass and headed north along Navarro Boulevard, she stopped at a noodle stand to buy two containers of fresh stir fry and then continued on her way. The sun had set by the time she reached the Hand of Fortune at the landing fields. She climbed up the ramp, keyed her access code, then stepped through the hatch as it slid open with a hiss.

The corridors were empty, which suited Estra just fine. She then made her way to the sick bay and made sure to take the side passages to avoid the crew lounge. There were sounds of low conversation coming from that area and Estra didn’t want to run into anyone at the moment. Estra stepped into the sick bay and spotted Midori, who rolled over and looked as Estra as she approached.

“Hey, what’s up?” Midori asked as she manoeuvred herself into a sitting position.

“Dinner is what is up, I thought you may have been getting sick of the packaged rations, and I know that no one else on this boat will cook us a fresh meal.” Estra said as she plopped one of the containers of stir fry in Midori’s lap.

Midori stared at it for a second, then scooped it up, detached the pair of disposable chopsticks from the container and then opened the lid and took a moment to savour the aroma. Estra smiled and did the same.

“You are a goddess, Estra.” Midori said, then scooped a mouthful of noodles out and stuffed them into her mouth and took a good thirty seconds to enjoy the flavour.

Estra smiled and tucked into her meal with slightly less enthusiasm.

“Listen, I wanted to express my gratitude for getting me this job,” Estra said to Midori in between mouthfuls of noodles.

“It’s all good, I’ve been hoping to get you something stable for a while now. I think it would do you good and that you will do right by us. I’m sure things will improve once the others get used to you.” Midori said.

Estra shook her head then put her noodles on the nightstand by the bed.

“Listen, I wanted to apologise to you about what happened with Whilem today, I got weird didn’t I?” Estra asked.

“Don’t worry, he thinks that you’re harmless.” Midori replied.

Estra snorted back a laugh at that news.

“I’m glad, listen. I like it on the ship, I want to make it my home as much as I can. It’s clean and warm, there is plenty of food and the pay is okay. The people are mostly pretty good as well, apart from P’Hol.” Estra said.

Midori chuckled slightly.

“I’m sure she’s fine, she just takes herself very seriously.” Midori said.

“I do like Whillem, he’s dignified and serene without being arrogant. I still feel like a creep over what happened between us today, what I said came out wrong, then there was the touching…” Estra trailed off then looked away.

“Can you tell him I’m sorry?” Estra asked.

“Estra, it’s okay. I’m sure there will be plenty of time to get used to each-other. Maybe you should tell him yourself?” Midori said.

“Maybe,” Estra said.

“Can I get you to do one more thing for me?” Estra asked.

“Sure, as long as it is not running a marathon, I don’t think I’m in shape for that yet,” Midori replied.

“If I’m making a mess of things, please pull me aside and let me know. I don’t want to ruin this opportunity.” Estra said.

“Of course, I am your friend, but I’m also the ship’s executive officer. I will make sure to keep you on course.” Midori replied.

“Thank you, Midori. I appreciate it.” Estra said.

“Well, as your commanding officer, can you do me a favour and turn on that monitor over there?” Midori asked and gestured to one of the blank video monitors that was fitted into the wall.

“Sure,” Estra said and did as instructed.

Estra found the power switch and turned it on. As the monitor hummed to life, Midori tapped a control on her nightstand and queued up several episodes from her favourite teledrama, something that involved ancient human mythology that Estra wasn’t familiar with. The two women sat back and ate in silence while the opening title of the show started to roll.

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Two Mission and Aftermath, Poaching - Five Parsecs from Home

Turn 2 - Poaching

“This is the place, stay sharp,” Dask said as he took his gun out and tumbed the safety to off.

The rest of the crew did likewise, weapons powered on, safeties unlocked and blades drawn.

“It’s beautiful in its own way,” Estra said as her gaze drifted upwards and studied the slab sided ruins of long collapsed habitat blocks that were interwoven with the thriving vegetation of the deep forest that had long since reclaimed this area.

“Is now the time for this?” P’hol asked Estra.

“Stress less, dearie, you’ll live longer,” Estra replied with a smile, then returned to gazing at the overgrown ruins.

P’Hol hissed in annoyance then returned to covering her sector.

“Caution, I hear movement up ahead!” Shoutheri growled as he raised his laser and began to move towards the scant cover of the ruins on the left side of their avenue of approach.

The party took only a handful more steps ahead, then the underbrush ahead of them thrashed as something big and angry tore it’s way through it, then burst out the other side.

“Contact! Gellec!” Shoutheri yelled as he dashed to one side and jumped onto the ruins for a better line of fire.

P’Hol and Estra dashed forward with their weapons at the ready as Shouteri, lased the first Gellec right in the centre of mass. The Gellec roared and staggered as the beam lanced it, but it remained standing and charged on. Estra and P’hol opened fire, buckshot and small calibre rounds mostly being stopped by the Gellec’s thick hide, until a lucky shot from P’Hol’s machine pistol stitched the leading Gellec in the eye, the Gellec scudded to the ground with a thump and lay still.

While the first Gellec went down Dask and Whillem dashed up the right flank, their guns up and spitting fire at the second Gellec. A blast from Whilem’s pistol caught the second Gellec in the throat and killed it instantly.

“Clear!” Shoutheri yelled as the two blue carcasses of their quarry lay dead before them.

They kept their weapons trained on the unmoving creatures before them, but without warning and with a terrible roar. The underbrush trashed aside and two more Gellec charged towards them.

“Oh hell,” Dask yelled as he spun around on his heel and faced down the two charging creatures.

Next to Dask Whillem bellowed a guttural warcry and drew a bead with his weapon. Dask and Whillem opened fire, their shots found their marks, but the creature's tough hides absorbed the punishment.

The Gellec smashed into Dask and Whillem. The creature on Whillem smashed him off his feet and sent him tumbling through the air, over the heads of Shoutheri and Estra. Whillem landed with a hard thump behind them and lay still.

The Gellec on Dask raised it’s fists over it’s head and brought them down on top of Dask, only for Dask to casually step out of the way of the incoming blow, raise his hand cannon and shoot the creature in the head with one graceful movement.

Brawling Roll: Dask rolled a six and the Gellec rolled a one

The Gellec went down with a pained howl. While Estra, Shoutheri and P’Hol pumped shot after shot into the remaining Gellec. The creature slumped to the ground and after a frightening amount of gunfire, it died.

“Now we are clear, someone see to Whillem,” Dask called out.

Poaching Aftermath

Whillem sat on the edge of the spare bed in the Hand of Fortune’s medical bay while Estra ran an autodiagnostic over him.

“Other than a slight concussion nothing appears to be broken, you’ll be fine, big man.” Estra said with a smile, then reached out and stroked some of the fur on Whillem’s arm.

Whillem post battle casualty roll - Equipment Damaged: Boarding Sabre

Whillem studied Estra for a moment, unsure of what to make of what she was doing.

“Please stop that,” Whillem asked with a low grumble.

Estra recoiled as if shocked, “I’m sorry, I just wanted to see how your fur felt on my skin. It won’t do that again.”

Whillem got to his feet and looked towards the bed where Dask sat next to Midori, who had just watched the whole scene.

Estra’s face went red, then she put down the autodiagnostic unit and left in a hurry.

“Whillem, I’m sorry about that.” Midori called out.

Whillem walked over to Midori's bed then sat down beside her and Dask.

“She’s an odd one, but I think she’s harmless,” Whillem said.

“Anyway, has our fee from the job come through?” Midori asked.

“I checked our accounts and the funds have landed, both from Jessop and from the dealer who purchased the carcasses. Fourteen large for everything, a tidy and well paying job. And Jessop sent us a Unity Military Battle Sight in appreciation for a job well done.” Dask said with a satisfied smile.

Mission Successful Pay: 14 credits
Post mission loot table roll: Unity Battle Sight

“Furthermore, we have received word from ETU regarding the remains of their survey team that we were able to recover. They have passed on their gratitude and have suggested that they may have more work for us in future.” Dask said then leaned back in his chair.

Battlefield Salvage - Vital Info: Corporate Patron (Enterprise de Terraformation Unity)

“Good news overall, sadly my equipment fared poorly. The phasing solenoid on my weapon fused sometime during the fight. That and with the damage my boarding sabre took, I think I’ll need to take some time to do some repairs.” Whillem said.

Character Event - Whillem - Don’t make them like they used to: Blast Pistol is damaged

Midori sighed and leaned back in her bed.

“I’m sorry that I missed the fight, but I’m glad we all made it out fine and we got paid well for our trouble. You did good, Dask, keep it up.” Midori said.

Other Events
Campaign Event - Making friends with the locals +1 story point.

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn Two - Pre-Mission - Five Parsecs from Home

 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

Donovan, Jones & Associates - Turn One Mission, Paydata Aftermath - Five Parsecs from Home

 Dask rubbed his chin as he studied himself in the mirror. He felt tired but the dull ache in his chin was subsiding, though an ugly bruise had taken its place. He sighed and splashed some water on his face before stepping out of the Hand of Fortune’s head and into the ship's corridors. Dask spotted P’Hol coming the other way, stripped of her armour and wrapped in a towel, her hygiene kit tucked under her arm.

Dask post battle injury - School of Hard Knocks

“How is our patient?” Dask asked P’Hol as she walked past.

“The surgeon is done and she is awake, I’m told she is going to be confined to sick bay for a while.” P’Hol replied, then pushed past Dask to get into the Hand’s sole shower and head combination.

Midori post battle injury - Crippling Wound, paid (two cred) for surgeon four turns in sick bay.

“That’s a relief” Dask murmured to himself as he started towards the ship’s main spinal corridor. 

Dask passed Shoutheri and Whillem coming the other way wheeling a cart laden from spaceship parts and a few other items salvaged from the facility. They looked like they were heading towards the amidships cargo bay. They also looked a bit battered and tired, but still standing.

Battlefield Finds:

Spaceship Parts & Frag Vest

Whillem post battle injury - Knocked Out

Shoutheri post battle injury - Equipment damaged (laser rifle)

Shoutheri’s weapon will be fine, we’ve already got the parts to fix it up. Whillem grumbled as he squeezed past Dask.

Character Event (Whillem) You’ve put in a lot of hard work around here - damaged item repaired.

Dask found his way to the sick bay and found Midori laid up and half asleep.

“Hey, how are you holding up?” Dask asked as he slid into a chair next to Midori’s bed.

Midori opened her eyes and looked at Dask.

“Gunshot, the doc had to fuse my lower intestines back together. I’d be in a lot of pain if it weren’t for the drugs,” Midori said with a smile.

Dask reached down, clasped her shoulder and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

“I’m sorry, it was hotter than I thought, and the paydata was… not as valuable as I was led to believe.”

Pay roll was one credit, bumped to three for mission success.

Midori smiled up at him, then sighed.

“Hey, we are but motes of dust gliding through creation. Fate owes us nothing.” Midori said, then closed her eyes.

“I did find a buyer though, and they may have more luck lined up for us in future. Seems like knocking over Yetrium impressed them enough to warrant further attention.” Dask said.

“That’s good, and we’re sure that Yetrium has no idea who knocked over their data crypt?” Midori asked.

“I think we are in the clear,” Dask replied.

Yetrium does not become a rival.

“That’s good… Dask, would you take advice from your first officer?”

Dask nodded.

“Of course, we’re in this together after all.”

Midori sat up and looked Dask in the eyes.

“You can’t fuck up like that again Dask, those corporate shooters were out of our league and there were too many of them. We got lucky this time, but I worry about what happens if we run up against those odds again. You need to be more careful for all our sake.”

Dask blinked in surprise and let go of Midori’s shoulder.

“Midori, I did what I could…”

“It wasn’t good enough, Dask. And that nonsense with you charging the data crypt on your own? Never do that again. If you die then I’m left holding this crew together, alone, and I don’t have enough people I trust in my life to make this work.”

Dask regarded her for a moment, then nodded.

“I did my best, that is all I can do. I’m sorry that this happened to you, but you are right. We’ll be more careful going forward. But like you said, fate owes us nothing, right?” Dask said.

Midori smiled at him then lay back down.

“Yeah, nothing.” Midori replied.