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janestarzJune 15, 2023 / 002-1104
A quiet followed that statement as the people in handcuffs were too flabbergasted to speak. Finally, the officer spoke again. "I am Major Anders Casarii, and you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder or disappearance of Captain James Jameson. You were seen talking to him in the bar here on High Port last night. You were the last people to see him alive."
"Obviously not." Moira said indignantly. "Because we didn't do it."
Dendr leaned forward. "I'd like to contact a lawyer please, before we go any further."
Qupar blinked, trying not to show his appreciation for the ex-journalist. It was a good move to lawyer up. He'd always respected suspects who had a lawyer with them. It showed they were smart. A lawyer would step in before you could say too much to incriminate you.
Meanwhile, the bwap puffed up his chest to try and look important. "I'd like to see some evidence. Which you don't have. Because we didn't do it!"
Before the major could reply, Qupar cleared his throat. "Look, which is it? Did he disappear, or was he murdered? Because it seems like you don't even know what we're here for."
A silence fell over the room. The suspects - because that was obviously what they were - stayed quiet. The major didn't answer right away. He seemed to be sizing them up.
There was a tapping at the door, and it opened to reveal the aide from earlier. "We're ready sir."
Major Casarii turned away. "Very well." He stepped back to make some space near the table, and two non-commissioned officers stepped into the room, uniforms crisp and the very picture of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
The major lifted his hands to indicate the group. "Are these the ones?"
"Yessir." "Affirmative."
The major nodded to his aide, who promptly led the sergeants from the room again, holding the door open for them.
"Is this room secure?" the major asked his aide. "Make it happen."
After this exchange, the tension in the room was palpable. The aide had left them with just the major, and being handcuffed to a table did nothing to alleviate the tension in the room. The exchange so far had been less than telling. Qupar considered what had happened. It was all highly irregular. No lawyer being offered, and the question for one being blatantly ignored. He wasn't sure if that was normal for Space Marines, the rules for the police force obviously did not apply to the military and navy. But then, they were civilians now, meaning they should have some rights.
The two sergeants coming into the room were odd as well. Usually witnesses would stay invisible to the suspects behind a one-way mirror allowing them to identify suspects without them running the risk of repercussions after the fact. Letting a witness into the room was a way to invite violence from criminals or their cronies, and it was frowned upon by superiors. So what was going on here?
"You met with Captain Jameson last night. What did you discuss?" the major asked.
"He said he had a job for us." Parappa replied quickly.
"What kind of job?"
"He didn't say." Moira said. "He was very careful not to speak about it in that place, afraid to be overheard. Said he'd meet us the following morning on our ship and tell us then."
"I noticed several unsavoury types in the back of the room paying close attention to the conversation." Qupar leaned forward. "Half their group split off, the rest kept an eye on our table. I advised these people to take their leave and go to a more secure location."
"And we did." Moira jumped in. "Spent the rest of the evening toasting to the Imperium aboard the ship, waiting for morning and the meeting."
"I'm sure your surveillance logs will corroborate this." Qupar said.
In the silence that followed Major Casarii took a small electronic device from his pocket, and stepped closer to the table. He touched the device to the bar, and with an audible click the handcuffs all disengaged. Moira and Dendr immediately started massaging their wrists. Hasta was just glaring at the major, clearly suppressing a violent need to demand answers. It was a little harder to get a read on Myles, but he seemed a little calmer than the bigger man.
"Captain Jameson went missing last night some 20 minutes after your meeting. His identity chip isn't showing up on station logs any more and there is no sign of him.
"So far, your story matches with what we've gleaned from surveillance logs." the major nodded at Qupar; "But we still don't know where Captain Jameson is currently. We suspect he might be dead."
The mood in the room shifted. The tone of the major's voice was more relaxed now that they had stated their whereabouts and they matched up with records. It might have just been a fishing expedition, but it was hard to judge. Clearly Major Casarii was worried for Captain Jameson and didn't know what had happened to him.
"Captain Jameson was investigating the disappearance of the scout ship High and Dry. A group of retired scouts were running the ship, and as you know the contractual obligation is to maintain the ship properly during your captaincy. Captain Jameson's mission for you was to take him to the last known location of the scout ship four parsecs away."
Pulling a chair closer towards the table, Major Casarii sat down across from them and folded his hands. "Apparently the ex-scouts did not take proper care of the ship and used sub-standard parts. The ship was stranded and its crew was picked up 5 parsecs away while trying to obtain parts. They were arrested for fraud."
It was odd: now that the handcuffs were off, they could have moved, they could have left, but the major's speech seemed to have riveted everyone in place. Hasta was stoically awaiting the punchline and Dender seemed to be taking mental notes.
"Flammarion High Port is majorly influenced by a megacorp named Ling Standard Products LLC. Ninety percent of the people on the High Port work for LSP. I can't trust anyone here;" the major said; "That is why Captain Jameson reached out to you."
Parappa fidgeted for a few moments and blurted out: "What's in it for us?"
It seemed like the Major had anticipated that question. "I can offer you a thousand credits each for your help, plus a further thousand for any expenses."
Parappa scooted forward in his seat a little and started negotiating. The bwap's usually nervous hand gestures took on a determination as if to punctuate his demands and counter-offers. He asked for equipment to fix the ship and goodwill vouchers.
Just as negotiations seemed to be coming to a close, Qupar slammed his fist on the table. "What do I get out of this?"
Hasta nodded in agreement from where he was leaning against the wall near the door. "This doesn't feel like a well-paying job. Man's got bills to pay. I'm here for a job. This doesn't feel like a job."
"I'm not comfortable with paying you a share in the ship." Moira said pointedly. "We've just met and I've no idea if we can work well together." She paused for a second, considering the options. "I will, however, be comfortable with you making the ship a home and sharing the profits with you."
"I am tired of jumping out of ships and getting shot at for a pittance." said Hasta. The idea of working with this group of people seemed agreeable to him, but he wasn't exactly eager to jump on board. Money might sway his opinion, but they were still a little way off from striking a deal.
Dendr put his hand on Moira's arm. "We want this guy around;" he said pointedly.
Qupar shrugged. "If you need an extra pair of hands, I'll stick around."
Moira nodded at Hasta. "Alright. But we will need to pay for upgrades before sharing profits."
Hasta pushed off from the wall and stepped closer to the table and the woman staring defiantly at him. "To an extent;" he hissed.
"I'm not paying for your bubble bath upgrade." Qupar pointed at the woman.
Parappa threw his hands in the air. "It's a mud bath, actually. But alright, if you want. No bath upgrades. We can discuss which upgrades will get greenlit with the group if we're all paying for them."
It took a good while to hammer out the arrangement and its particulars and the aide served a simple lunch in the interrogation room to hold them over. In the end an agreement was reached. The Penelope would stay on Flammarion for a full overhaul and some much needed maintenance in anticipation of passing full technical inspection. Parappa insisted the technicians wouldn't touch the squeaky seat next to the pilot's seat, as it needed to remain just as it was.
The major just finished his mental note-taking, when Qupar put his hand on his arm. "I will need the file," he told the major. "Any intel you have gathered so far on the ship."
The major shook his head. "No file, but I can give you the run-down here and now. The crew, those ex-scouts, were picked up on Caladbolg trying to break into a warehouse for spare parts. Their ship was stranded on Walston. That's all I know."
He turned to the group. "I will make arrangements for you to be transported on another ship to Walston to retrieve the ship with the spare parts needed to repair it. You will pick it up, repair it and fly it back here."
For a moment his expression hardened. "Don't be tempted to steal the scout ship. You will be found. Sooner or later, you will be."
Moira scoffed. "What, and trade the Penelope for a lowly scout ship?"
"You have to pick up my bag from the Penelope and bring it here." Hasta said. "I'll need my stuff."
"The bag with numerous interesting rifles?" the major replied with a half-smile playing on his lips. "It's already on the transport ship.
"One more thing;" he continued, draining his cup of coffee. "You will leave Flammarion in handcuffs, escorted by Marines. You understand this is a ruse. People will be watching. Of course the cuffs will be removed as soon as you're on the transport."
Hasta murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'they'd better be...'
"I will also provide you with documentation to take control of the ship on behalf of the Imperium, and you will be able to refuel for free on Bowman and Asteltine."
The major looked around the group, waiting for any questions to be asked, but there were none. Then he rapped on the door loudly. A number of marines came in and handcuffed everyone again. They were escorted through customs again, towards the docks. People were staring and some angry murmurs rose from the crowd as they had done that morning. Some people murmured 'Damn, glad that isn't me' with a sigh and a shake of their head.
Qupar looked around the crowd. He was used to reading crowds from his time as a detective, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling there was more going on than half-concealed hostility. Someone was watching them. He couldn't quite spot who it was though. Clearly the ruse was necessary, if only to keep the heat off them.
They entered a Far Trader, the same kind of ship as the Penelope, but it was a little neater, kept in better shape by its captain, Michelle Corelli. "Welcome to the Autumn Gold." she said as the handcuffs came off and showed them to their cabins. "Our first stop is 567-908, two parsecs away. You may want to spend the journey brushing up your skills."
The journey to 567-908 took eight days, and they landed on a reddish brown wasteland. The only interesting thing about it was Mandel's ATV, where a guy named Mandel crashed his vehicle in such a way that it couldn't be recovered or repaired, and it became a de facto tourist attraction. If there had been tourists. Which there weren't, because 567-908 was basically a shithole refuelling station people mostly wanted to leave as soon as they could. They only stayed for three hours before launching onto the second leg of the journey.
During the trip Myles and Qupar found plenty of time to spar. Although Qupar was well-trained in unarmed melee combat, the next step up would be fighting with a knife. Myles taught him the basics, which resulted in Qupar being outfitted in fresh bruises. Myles wasn't a jerk about it though, and it was a good way to pass the time. Hasta watched them spar, and after their session ended, Qupar turned around to teach Hasta more efficient ways in unarmed combat. He was dripping with sweat before their session came to a close. The big man had a lot of muscle, but Qupar could use that against him, and he tried focusing his lessons on some of the techniques he used against Hasta and showed him how to effectively act on them.
Moira expressed an interest to Captain Corelli to refine her skill as a steward. "It would allow me to host passengers more efficiently and mostly without them running off screaming as soon as we dock."
Parappa nodded appreciatively. "I'm sure that honing your skills will be most useful!" He turned back to the paperwork he was drafting up. Hasta had requested their job arrangements to be made official and Parappa had jumped at the chance. There was a ream of paper with notes on the table in front of him and another standing by for the final draft. The pile of books on economics were stacked next to his paperwork, plenty of bookmarks and notes folded in the pages.
"Cheers!" cried Dendr from his perch in the galley. His training was more alcohol-oriented.
020-1104 Arrival on Walston
The C-class starport was planetside, and just before disembarking captain Corelli informed them of the local laws. Especially the weapon laws were restrictive, and Hasta grumbled loudly. He put the chain blade, pistol and the auto assault rifle he had been meaning to take back into his large duffel and instead clipped a long knife onto his belt. "I'll have to check the rest of these into a locker, and that'll cost me 10 credits a week." he mumbled sourly.
"Cheer up, that's not too much." Myles said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And you can log it as expenses. Just make sure you get a receipt."
They exited the ship, and looked at the landing pads. It wasn't a large starport, and there weren't many ships docked. One thing was immediately obvious: the scout ship was nowhere to be seen.
Read the next entry in this campaign.
Read the first entry in this campaign.
A quiet followed that statement as the people in handcuffs were too flabbergasted to speak. Finally, the officer spoke again. "I am Major Anders Casarii, and you have been arrested on suspicion of the murder or disappearance of Captain James Jameson. You were seen talking to him in the bar here on High Port last night. You were the last people to see him alive."
"Obviously not." Moira said indignantly. "Because we didn't do it."
Dendr leaned forward. "I'd like to contact a lawyer please, before we go any further."
Qupar blinked, trying not to show his appreciation for the ex-journalist. It was a good move to lawyer up. He'd always respected suspects who had a lawyer with them. It showed they were smart. A lawyer would step in before you could say too much to incriminate you.
Meanwhile, the bwap puffed up his chest to try and look important. "I'd like to see some evidence. Which you don't have. Because we didn't do it!"
Before the major could reply, Qupar cleared his throat. "Look, which is it? Did he disappear, or was he murdered? Because it seems like you don't even know what we're here for."
A silence fell over the room. The suspects - because that was obviously what they were - stayed quiet. The major didn't answer right away. He seemed to be sizing them up.
There was a tapping at the door, and it opened to reveal the aide from earlier. "We're ready sir."
Major Casarii turned away. "Very well." He stepped back to make some space near the table, and two non-commissioned officers stepped into the room, uniforms crisp and the very picture of bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.
The major lifted his hands to indicate the group. "Are these the ones?"
"Yessir." "Affirmative."
The major nodded to his aide, who promptly led the sergeants from the room again, holding the door open for them.
"Is this room secure?" the major asked his aide. "Make it happen."
After this exchange, the tension in the room was palpable. The aide had left them with just the major, and being handcuffed to a table did nothing to alleviate the tension in the room. The exchange so far had been less than telling. Qupar considered what had happened. It was all highly irregular. No lawyer being offered, and the question for one being blatantly ignored. He wasn't sure if that was normal for Space Marines, the rules for the police force obviously did not apply to the military and navy. But then, they were civilians now, meaning they should have some rights.
The two sergeants coming into the room were odd as well. Usually witnesses would stay invisible to the suspects behind a one-way mirror allowing them to identify suspects without them running the risk of repercussions after the fact. Letting a witness into the room was a way to invite violence from criminals or their cronies, and it was frowned upon by superiors. So what was going on here?
"You met with Captain Jameson last night. What did you discuss?" the major asked.
"He said he had a job for us." Parappa replied quickly.
"What kind of job?"
"He didn't say." Moira said. "He was very careful not to speak about it in that place, afraid to be overheard. Said he'd meet us the following morning on our ship and tell us then."
"I noticed several unsavoury types in the back of the room paying close attention to the conversation." Qupar leaned forward. "Half their group split off, the rest kept an eye on our table. I advised these people to take their leave and go to a more secure location."
"And we did." Moira jumped in. "Spent the rest of the evening toasting to the Imperium aboard the ship, waiting for morning and the meeting."
"I'm sure your surveillance logs will corroborate this." Qupar said.
In the silence that followed Major Casarii took a small electronic device from his pocket, and stepped closer to the table. He touched the device to the bar, and with an audible click the handcuffs all disengaged. Moira and Dendr immediately started massaging their wrists. Hasta was just glaring at the major, clearly suppressing a violent need to demand answers. It was a little harder to get a read on Myles, but he seemed a little calmer than the bigger man.
"Captain Jameson went missing last night some 20 minutes after your meeting. His identity chip isn't showing up on station logs any more and there is no sign of him.
"So far, your story matches with what we've gleaned from surveillance logs." the major nodded at Qupar; "But we still don't know where Captain Jameson is currently. We suspect he might be dead."
The mood in the room shifted. The tone of the major's voice was more relaxed now that they had stated their whereabouts and they matched up with records. It might have just been a fishing expedition, but it was hard to judge. Clearly Major Casarii was worried for Captain Jameson and didn't know what had happened to him.
"Captain Jameson was investigating the disappearance of the scout ship High and Dry. A group of retired scouts were running the ship, and as you know the contractual obligation is to maintain the ship properly during your captaincy. Captain Jameson's mission for you was to take him to the last known location of the scout ship four parsecs away."
Pulling a chair closer towards the table, Major Casarii sat down across from them and folded his hands. "Apparently the ex-scouts did not take proper care of the ship and used sub-standard parts. The ship was stranded and its crew was picked up 5 parsecs away while trying to obtain parts. They were arrested for fraud."
It was odd: now that the handcuffs were off, they could have moved, they could have left, but the major's speech seemed to have riveted everyone in place. Hasta was stoically awaiting the punchline and Dender seemed to be taking mental notes.
"Flammarion High Port is majorly influenced by a megacorp named Ling Standard Products LLC. Ninety percent of the people on the High Port work for LSP. I can't trust anyone here;" the major said; "That is why Captain Jameson reached out to you."
Parappa fidgeted for a few moments and blurted out: "What's in it for us?"
It seemed like the Major had anticipated that question. "I can offer you a thousand credits each for your help, plus a further thousand for any expenses."
Parappa scooted forward in his seat a little and started negotiating. The bwap's usually nervous hand gestures took on a determination as if to punctuate his demands and counter-offers. He asked for equipment to fix the ship and goodwill vouchers.
Just as negotiations seemed to be coming to a close, Qupar slammed his fist on the table. "What do I get out of this?"
Hasta nodded in agreement from where he was leaning against the wall near the door. "This doesn't feel like a well-paying job. Man's got bills to pay. I'm here for a job. This doesn't feel like a job."
"I'm not comfortable with paying you a share in the ship." Moira said pointedly. "We've just met and I've no idea if we can work well together." She paused for a second, considering the options. "I will, however, be comfortable with you making the ship a home and sharing the profits with you."
"I am tired of jumping out of ships and getting shot at for a pittance." said Hasta. The idea of working with this group of people seemed agreeable to him, but he wasn't exactly eager to jump on board. Money might sway his opinion, but they were still a little way off from striking a deal.
Dendr put his hand on Moira's arm. "We want this guy around;" he said pointedly.
Qupar shrugged. "If you need an extra pair of hands, I'll stick around."
Moira nodded at Hasta. "Alright. But we will need to pay for upgrades before sharing profits."
Hasta pushed off from the wall and stepped closer to the table and the woman staring defiantly at him. "To an extent;" he hissed.
"I'm not paying for your bubble bath upgrade." Qupar pointed at the woman.
Parappa threw his hands in the air. "It's a mud bath, actually. But alright, if you want. No bath upgrades. We can discuss which upgrades will get greenlit with the group if we're all paying for them."
It took a good while to hammer out the arrangement and its particulars and the aide served a simple lunch in the interrogation room to hold them over. In the end an agreement was reached. The Penelope would stay on Flammarion for a full overhaul and some much needed maintenance in anticipation of passing full technical inspection. Parappa insisted the technicians wouldn't touch the squeaky seat next to the pilot's seat, as it needed to remain just as it was.
The major just finished his mental note-taking, when Qupar put his hand on his arm. "I will need the file," he told the major. "Any intel you have gathered so far on the ship."
The major shook his head. "No file, but I can give you the run-down here and now. The crew, those ex-scouts, were picked up on Caladbolg trying to break into a warehouse for spare parts. Their ship was stranded on Walston. That's all I know."
He turned to the group. "I will make arrangements for you to be transported on another ship to Walston to retrieve the ship with the spare parts needed to repair it. You will pick it up, repair it and fly it back here."
For a moment his expression hardened. "Don't be tempted to steal the scout ship. You will be found. Sooner or later, you will be."
Moira scoffed. "What, and trade the Penelope for a lowly scout ship?"
"You have to pick up my bag from the Penelope and bring it here." Hasta said. "I'll need my stuff."
"The bag with numerous interesting rifles?" the major replied with a half-smile playing on his lips. "It's already on the transport ship.
"One more thing;" he continued, draining his cup of coffee. "You will leave Flammarion in handcuffs, escorted by Marines. You understand this is a ruse. People will be watching. Of course the cuffs will be removed as soon as you're on the transport."
Hasta murmured something that sounded suspiciously like 'they'd better be...'
"I will also provide you with documentation to take control of the ship on behalf of the Imperium, and you will be able to refuel for free on Bowman and Asteltine."
The major looked around the group, waiting for any questions to be asked, but there were none. Then he rapped on the door loudly. A number of marines came in and handcuffed everyone again. They were escorted through customs again, towards the docks. People were staring and some angry murmurs rose from the crowd as they had done that morning. Some people murmured 'Damn, glad that isn't me' with a sigh and a shake of their head.
Qupar looked around the crowd. He was used to reading crowds from his time as a detective, and he couldn't quite shake the feeling there was more going on than half-concealed hostility. Someone was watching them. He couldn't quite spot who it was though. Clearly the ruse was necessary, if only to keep the heat off them.
They entered a Far Trader, the same kind of ship as the Penelope, but it was a little neater, kept in better shape by its captain, Michelle Corelli. "Welcome to the Autumn Gold." she said as the handcuffs came off and showed them to their cabins. "Our first stop is 567-908, two parsecs away. You may want to spend the journey brushing up your skills."
The journey to 567-908 took eight days, and they landed on a reddish brown wasteland. The only interesting thing about it was Mandel's ATV, where a guy named Mandel crashed his vehicle in such a way that it couldn't be recovered or repaired, and it became a de facto tourist attraction. If there had been tourists. Which there weren't, because 567-908 was basically a shithole refuelling station people mostly wanted to leave as soon as they could. They only stayed for three hours before launching onto the second leg of the journey.
During the trip Myles and Qupar found plenty of time to spar. Although Qupar was well-trained in unarmed melee combat, the next step up would be fighting with a knife. Myles taught him the basics, which resulted in Qupar being outfitted in fresh bruises. Myles wasn't a jerk about it though, and it was a good way to pass the time. Hasta watched them spar, and after their session ended, Qupar turned around to teach Hasta more efficient ways in unarmed combat. He was dripping with sweat before their session came to a close. The big man had a lot of muscle, but Qupar could use that against him, and he tried focusing his lessons on some of the techniques he used against Hasta and showed him how to effectively act on them.
Moira expressed an interest to Captain Corelli to refine her skill as a steward. "It would allow me to host passengers more efficiently and mostly without them running off screaming as soon as we dock."
Parappa nodded appreciatively. "I'm sure that honing your skills will be most useful!" He turned back to the paperwork he was drafting up. Hasta had requested their job arrangements to be made official and Parappa had jumped at the chance. There was a ream of paper with notes on the table in front of him and another standing by for the final draft. The pile of books on economics were stacked next to his paperwork, plenty of bookmarks and notes folded in the pages.
"Cheers!" cried Dendr from his perch in the galley. His training was more alcohol-oriented.
020-1104 Arrival on Walston
The C-class starport was planetside, and just before disembarking captain Corelli informed them of the local laws. Especially the weapon laws were restrictive, and Hasta grumbled loudly. He put the chain blade, pistol and the auto assault rifle he had been meaning to take back into his large duffel and instead clipped a long knife onto his belt. "I'll have to check the rest of these into a locker, and that'll cost me 10 credits a week." he mumbled sourly.
"Cheer up, that's not too much." Myles said, clapping him on the shoulder. "And you can log it as expenses. Just make sure you get a receipt."
They exited the ship, and looked at the landing pads. It wasn't a large starport, and there weren't many ships docked. One thing was immediately obvious: the scout ship was nowhere to be seen.
Read the next entry in this campaign.
Read the first entry in this campaign.
