The plan evolved somewhat, with the Cats suggesting that they head to Nabeth in the Mountain Walk, to visit unobtrusively and hunt for information, while the Trenchant completed fuelling at Motmos and followed on to meet them later ready for the jump to the Cache 1 deepspace site.
On the last night, Barton McKay entertained the command crew to a dinner.
Accordingly, kitted out for the trip, the party jumped for Nabeth. The arrangement was that if the Walk didn't return in three weeks, the Trenchant should come and look for her.
Library Data: Nabeth D-426579-8 The Imperium considers Nabeth to be the de facto capital of the subsector. The planet's population is restricted to a ring of spaceborne habitats and hollowed-out asteroids that have been moved into stable orbits around the little world. Locals are known to actually jump from habitat to habitat in vacc suits. The Nabethi have a reputation as excellent if unscrupulous traders, and the bazaars of Nabeth are a good place to go for rumors or to pick up curious artifacts from elsewhere in the Trojan Reach.
The ‘Starport’ is a mere courtesy title for the asteroid Brainbug, which has mooring points and orbital parking for ships of various sizes. Only small craft of 40 tons or less can actually dock to airlocks there; which is true of most of the asteroids. Unrefined fuel, mostly in the form of ice, is available, as is water from the actual planet. |
Emerging from jump at the gas giant Mozaresh, the Walk skimmed for fuel as was standard, then headed in to the inner system, reaching Nabeth itself in less than two hours. The system was busy with trade, mostly cargo, moving in and out of the deeper Reach, a lot of it from the Sojurn to rimward. On the trip in, some judicious PAN enquiries had identified the planetoid Brandistock as a rumoured good place to find what one was looking for. Despite this, and the technical balkanization of each worldlet having its' own choice of government, all the asteroids maintained a Law Level of 9, which in simple terms meant "No."
Wombat was considering checking in at the Scout base, but they decided to do that on the way out to avoid associating themselves too closely with the Imperials.
Nabeth did have a PAN network, and the rock-bottom berthing charge of Cr40 got them access to that. The nearest asteroid was Cor, so named because of its' bizarre shape; like Brainbug, it had docking corridors extending out with airlocks for connecting small craft or air/rafts to. Brandistock was a couple away around the orbit, and the Walk set herself into a parking orbit around that.
Taking up an orbit around Brandistock, the Cats and Vespasian unpacked the air/raft and shuttled over to the docking corridor, noticing a vacc-suited jumper sailing past in the middle distance as they did so. Forewarned, they left pistols inside the craft and headed down the passage in their diplo armoured civvies. Embedded skinweave and blades were something they'd have to leave to chance and not making a scene. There were guards on the end hatch, but these asked only the most basic questions, and reeled off the standard disclaimer and information with some disinterest. Feng asked the way to Bar Talendra, which did raise eyebrows; "Going in at the deep end, eh, ma'am? Watch out for the Three Chucks!"
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As they emerged into the grid of "streets" making up the layout of Brandistock within its rocky cave. The general air of the place reminded them of something, and after a few minutes they realized what it was; a sense of “homely danger” which reminded them of Dark City/Staerla on Collace. People walked cautiously, and sharp eyes noted occasional well-concealed weapons. Nobody bothered them, but they felt very watched.
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A little wandering brought them to the bar, and they headed inside. Bar Talendra was exactly what the rumours suggested; dim, full of shadowy-looking people, mildly grubby, with music just calculated to act as white noise and cover conversations.
A human barman stood behind the comparatively brightly-lit bar. He served beers for Nevada and Wombat, and then Feng ordered, not just Three Chucks, but DangerFloat - mixed. After a moment's shock, the barman started to prepare it. "In compliance with local legislation, I do have to warn you - " he started. Feng gestured to Wombat. "It's all right. I brought a doctor." Wombat gave a little wave, then commented, "Cr5 says you chuck it up." A man at the nearby table laughed. "I'll take twenty of that," he said. Vespasian stayed back in an unobtrusive corner, and after a glance at him, the barman ignored him.
"It'll be served to you in the ZG pod," said the barman. Feng walked over to the central pod, shed her clothes, and stepped in, drifting neatly to the dispenser which had produced a capsule of the strange brew. Everything else in the bar stopped dead as the whole clientele turned as if on casters to watch. The distinctive "dink-dink-dink" of a misplayed pool ball hitting the floor was the only other sound.
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"A hundred?" said Nevada to their tablemate as he and Wombat joined the sportsman. "Bit rich for me," said the man, "I'll take half that. Name's Zilrun by the way," as they watched Feng lift the capsule. She slugged it down.
Quin Feng, however, knew exactly what she was doing. One of her cyber augments was a bio-fusion power port, and she carefully routed the ZG snakebite into that rather than her real stomach. The energy meter climbed gratifyingly as she floated cheerfully, signalling the bartender for another. Nevada and Wombat faked surprise, and pushed their winnings across to the barman for the second drink. Sadly, she managed to fumble the actual ingestion of that, and had to use the built in shower on the way out, as a round of applause greeted her emergence. A rather glum-looking human cleaner appeared with a mop and bucket to clean the pod, rather underscoring the low tech level of Nabeth.
Wombat had not been idle. He'd been watching people, using something he'd been studying during jump; lip-reading.
Translation: Steve finally picked the Language-0 he'd never chosen in chargen, three and a half real years late!
As he focussed on the pool players, he was pretty sure that he observed the word "razors". While the man might have been talking about his companion's legs, it seemed worth checking into, and he used his neural comm to advise the others.
Feng circulated, chatting, until she reached the pool table, dropping a half-cred on the edge to indicate wanting a game. The man and woman playing had both been staring rather lustfully at her floating unclad in the pod, and there was a brief argument before she took up a cue and began to play against the man... seductively, while the woman relaxed in a chair and openly ogled her.
Zilrun, meanwhile, had opened up after some drinks, and was willing to offer to pass on a job op he knew of in exchange for the floor show he'd enjoyed. "Not too risky; maybe a bop on the head if you mess up." Nevada fished. "Government job? Pirates?" he asked, and noted a tiny eye twitch at the work "Pirates". "Thousand gets you the info," said Zilrun optimistically. "Bit rich for me," returned Nevada, and they haggled for a bit before settling on seven-fifty.
Dribalt Keen, a notorious local hacker had stolen financial ledger data from “important people” and was currently hiding out in the hydroponics bay of the asteroid Carlomin under a false identity. His cover identity, Zilrun said, was Bian Manks, HP engineer. Apparently, he'd hacked data belonging to the Blue Razors (Nevada and Qombat's turn to cover surprised recognition) and was now correctly terrified that he was being hunted. "It's a good job, easy enough," said Zilrun, "but some free advice. Don't cross the Razors. I like you, and I'd hate to see you floating past a window."
Meanwhile, Feng had picked up a different rumour. Apparently, Synth-Kola had been really hard to get lately, as "the feds" had impounded the last shipment, convinced it was fake. After careful testing, however, they'd confirmed it was the Real Thing (fake Coke!) and released it. This fellow believed there was some kind of secret data associated with the packaging. Feng got his blood pressure nice and high, then walked away, blowing him a kiss. "Sorry, sweetie, the wind blows in the other direction," she more or less lied.
Walking back, the Cats debated their next move. They were tempted to go after the hacker, but rather to rescue him than turn him in to the Razors; they wondered if there were going to be other interested parties if the bounty was out in the underculture.
The neural comms are really useful, as they effectively allow the PCs private discussions in any company, although they still communicate by radio which could be intercepted. Probably not at Nabeth's TL though!
They passed several shops, stopping at a KwikBite Fast Food and Macro's Grocery for assorted cans of Synth-Kola. Neither place sold Three Chucks; it was only dealt wholesale to bars. Feng was still keen to get some for her passengers... They passed a local hotel, and Feng suddenly split off. Someone's following us, she commed, I'll see if it's me they're following. Shrugging, Nevada, Wombat and Vespasian carried on back to the air/raft. While they waited for Feng, they handed Vespasian the cans to scan, and before long he had decoded the information. The barcodes carried coded information indicating the flight plans and iteneraries of merchant ships belonging to three different sector/subsector lines;
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The information was more than enough to set up pirate raids against these lines. Presumably, some spy or mole within those companies had leaked the data, and someone else had intercepted the shipment of Synth-Kola and swapped - not the product, but the packaging; the cans.
Meanwhile, Feng had noted a nondescript man trying and failing to covertly observe her, then making off. She finished booking in, and left the hotel to try and follow him, but she lost him. Writing off the hotel room, she rejoined the others.
Vespasian had been busy; he'd acquired a picture of 'Bian Manks', his address on Carlomin and some plans of the lab where he worked. "If he's hacked the Razors," said Wombat, remembering how difficult Calico Jack's handcomp had been to penetrate, "he must be good." Feng was all for surprising him, stuffing him in a vacc suit and shoving him out of an airlock for the Walk to collect from space, though this was likely to attract more attention than docking an air/raft to the lab.
Planning, they headed back to the Mountain Walk.