Session 7: Clan Brayden
Oct. 3rd, 2023 05:24 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
janestarzSeptember 27, 2023 / 037-1104
"So Moira," Hasta asked. "How do you feel about not being with the Penelope?"
She thought about it for a moment. The people in the bar were just people in a bar, drinking. They looked like hard workers, their faces worn from hours of labour in vacc suits on a lonely asteroid. Some were toasting happily for selling a batch of ore at a good price, others looked dour and were nursing a drink like it would be their last.
"I'm relieved the mortgage payments are frozen, but I'd like to get home; she finally replied. "But if there's anything interesting to do on Bowman..." she trailed off.
"The Penelope is your ship, so if you want to go home..." Hasta said. "Do we want to make money on the way back or just get back?"
Myles put down his glass. "I'd like to go visit my parents."
Hasta quickly finished his drink and changed the subject. "And I'd like to buy some more guns."
"Ah." Moira laughed. "Some people buy snow globes when they're travelling. Hasta just buys guns to remember the journey."
Myles waited for her to finish speaking and then returned to the topic of his parents. "They work in the belt. Done that most of their life. I can't imagine how they feel about me joining the navy. They might not have liked that."
"Do you have any siblings?" Moira asked.
"Yes, I have an older brother Kyle and a younger sister Esther. I was closer to her than I was with my brother." Myles said. "I've been in contact with them, you know, sending recorded messages home over the years. But I haven't seen them in 20 years."
He got up from his chair and walked to the bar. The barman was an oily looking chap with the worn look of belters native to the system. As Myles approached the bar the barman turned towards him and jerked his head back in a 'what'll you have' gesture.
"I'm looking for clan Brayden." Myles said to the man. "Do you have any information so I can get in touch?"
The barman ignored the question, and kept polishing a glass with a slightly less than dirty cloth. "What would you like to drink? Most people come in here, buy a drink first. Some beers for you?"
Qupar smiled and covered it politely with a hand. Obviously they needed to buy another round for the barkeep to give them any kind of information, and it probably might not even be that cheap.
"Your best." Myles replied.
Moira had overheard, and piped up from their table. "Do you have anything stronger?"
The barman put down the glass and picked up a new one that needed a light wipe down with a musty rag. He started to fire off a long list of drinks. "Fizzies, rocks on the rocks, distilled lichen, homegrown vat beer, acid wrap..."
"Acid wrap. That sounds good." Myles replied quickly before the list grew any longer. "Make it seven glasses. Six for me and one for you."
The barman managed the tiniest hint of a smile and put down the glass as the first one of seven to fill with a dark bottle from under the bar. "What's this clan you're after then?" he said, filling up the glasses with a finger height of dark liquid. He didn't look up at Myles, seemingly too busy to pour the drinks.
"Clan Brayden." Myles replied earnestly.
"And you are?" A quick flash of an eye up towards Myles' face and the belter tattoos, and then back to the drinks.
"I'm Myles Brayden."
"Well anyone can say that. How do I know you're really Miles Brayden?" de Bartender started putting glasses on the bar for Dendr to start serving to the rest of the crew at the table. Myles opened a pocket and took out his ID and from another pocket grabbed a 50 credit bill to pay for the drinks.
The bartender put the money in the till and took the ID to examine it. He held up the card to the light, checked the back, and ran it over an infrared scanner that appeared from a small cubby hole under the bar before handing it back to Myles. "What do you want from them?" he sighed.
Myles pocketed his ID again. "I've come to see my family."
The bartender wiped the bar down with the rag and pointed off into the distance. "They were staking a claim on the outer part of the system. Now they're moving closer to Koenig's Rock. Couple of hours out. They're still going strong, and I know your pa. Strong as a rock."
"Always has been." Miles grinned with pride.
Moira put her empty glass back on the table and called over to Myles: "C'mon Myles, you have to show off your new scarf!"
The barkeep ignored her, and banged a fist on his leg, which made a metallic sound. "These are rough times. My own mining days are over. Word to the wise: Keep yerself to yerself."
Myles nodded his thanks, and slipped a few credits towards the barman, who blinked. "What's this for?"
"For being so helpful." he smiled.
"This'll go into the old retirement fund." the barman smiled at Myles. "Listen, keep yerself to yerself, there's enough trouble out here and you don't need none of it. You seem like good kid."
Qupar, returning the empty glasses to the bar, asked softly; "What kind of trouble are you referring to?"
The barman returned to wiping the bar and ignored Qupar's question, but leaned slightly towards Myles. "Just talk to your pa. He'll fill you in."
Myles put his hand on Qupar's arm. In another part of the bar a conversation had steadily grown louder over the past few minutes, and a fight was breaking out. The barman grabbed a cudgel from behind the bar, and started to move off to break it up.
The crew left him to it and went out to look for a weapon's shop.
"I'd like a ceramic blade." Hasta said. "What have you got?"
They had found a kind of hardware store in Koenig's Rock and were checking out the merchandise. It wasn't a big store and the plastiglass display cases were sturdy enough to keep tools and weapons out of reach. There were a ton of mining tools, most of which Qupar didn't even know what to do with. The weapons were stored in cases behind the counter, but there were also a bunch of crates locked without showing what was inside.
The shopkeep was eying the big man in front of him suspiciously, so Hasta stretched and took his long sleeved shirt off, exposing military tattoos on his forearms and biceps. The shopkeeper nodded and ran a hand through his greasy hair. "You've seen some action, haven't you?"
"I am interested in a ceramic knife." Hasta repeated himself.
The shopkeeper shook his head. "No market for it. Who would want a ceramic knife?"
"Everybody does!" Hasta replied. "Much easier to slide it out afterward." He sounded exasperated, like he was explaining it to a six year old.
The merchant was rubbing his ear thoughtfully, no doubt to more evenly coat it with the grease from his hair. "There's a few things you'd like. Some things come in occasionally. What kind of things would you like?"
"Weapons. Yes." Hasta said. "Any."
"Well I don't have any laser weapons I'm afraid." The merchant started ticking things off on his fingers. "Accelerator rifles, pistols, revolvers, brass knuckles, stealth daggers, stun sticks, smoke grenades, neurotoxin grenades - I suggest you don't drop those with the pin out, you know - energy rifles, crossbows, suppressors, tripods, flak jackets, tactical riot armour..." he trailed off; "That's just a rough idea of what we've got."
Hasta had perked up visibly at the promise of so many fun things to play with. "How much is the accelerator rifle?"
The shopkeep didn't bat an eye. "1800 credits."
"Phew." Hasta whistled. It was a lot more expensive than wherever he was used to shopping, apparently.
"Look at where we are." The shopkeeper said, spreading his hands to take in the whole of the shop. The neon Tool Time sign behind the counter flickered once. Then he changed his tone. "Gives you a nice kick."
"Well it works in zero gravity;" Hasta retorted; "So someone gets a kick."
While Hasta started to pile his choices at the register, Qupar found an assault pistol not unlike the weapon he had used while he was on the force, and Myles took a fancy to a cutlass and a revolver, and then started stocking up on thermal and smoke grenades along with Hasta.
In the back, Dendr was in the market for something entirely different. He was eyeing electronics and had picked out some audio equipment, a bug and receiver combo to work with.
While the shopkeep was ringing up their total, Qupar pointed out the medical supplies near the door. "Since we're such kind fellows, any chance you could throw in some of these?"
The merchant was over the moon with their order and was grinning like it was Christmas. "I'll make you a kind offer, good sir, and I'll throw in an improved First Aid kit as a little bonus to thank you for your kind patronage." He smiled some very rotten teeth bare in thanks.
Back at the docks they loaded up 10 tons of mail as a cargo for Asteltine and spent the next few hours flying out to the Brayden Claim in the asteroid belt. Myles took the seat at the comms panels and warned the rest of the crew. "Don't let Dendr near comms. Or Hasta near the gun turret."
He opened a channel. "Greetings clan Brayden. My name's Myles Brayden. I haven't been home in a while, and I've come to say hello to my parents."
They didn't have to wait long for a reply. The comm panel crackled and a face popped up on the screen slightly out of focus. "Be advised you are approaching a clan claim, we are prepared to open fire. Confirm who you are."
Moira huffed. "Remind them this is an Imperial ship and firing on it will be a bad idea."
Myles ignored her. "I haven't been home in sixteen years. My pa is Gerald and my mom is Lissia."
They were told to hold position and not approach further, and the connection cut out. A few minutes later the connection was re-established and the video connection popped back up on the screen. An older man with bearded bristles and thinning hair cracked a smile as soon as the feed connected.
"I got a message you were in system." he smiled; "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd pop in." Myles smiled back.
The man on the screen turned to the side and started giving instructions to assign a berth for the ship. "Follow course and don't deviate from it for your own safety."
Dendr crossed his arms after Myles dropped the feed. "Does it spell clan with a K? I'm getting a weird feeling. Parappa might need to hide in the pantry."
They docked safely at the asteroid by extending a docking tube to form a connection to the structure, allowing them safe passage onto the clan's territory. As the doorway slid open, Myles' parents and several other people from the clan were waiting for them. Some of them were holding weapons, but lightly. None of the weapons were trained on their visitors, but that could change if their intentions were hostile.
"Hello son." Gerald said warmly. He was a smallish man, with thinning hair that had gone grey in the years that Myles had been away. His shoulders and hands were still strong, and it was clear he was still working the mines as he had always done. But Gerald was bustled aside by the woman next to him. "There's my boy, my big boy." She hugged Myles tightly. "Are they feeding you well? Oh, don't just stand there, come in, come in!"
Moira put her hand on Myles' shoulder. "Want us to wait with the ship?"
"Nonsense." Myles' mother said. "Come in, come in, everyone!"
The people holstered their weapons and relaxed visibly. One or two of them nodded at Myles and sauntered off in side corridors while the crew were bustled into a common area with a large table with at least thirty sturdy chairs and a kitchen area at the back of the room. Obviously this was the common area where the clan would eat together after a long work day. Everything looked well used, but it was clean.
"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Gerald asked his son.
"Well, it's the first time I could actually decide where I'd want to travel." Myles said apologetically. His time in the navy had obviously not allowed him to take a holiday or been close enough to Bowman to visit home.
Gerald told about working claims since Myles' departure. Work in the Belt meant the clan would work a claim, sell their ore at Koenig's Rock, and if they were lucky to get a rich claim, times were good. After a claim was depleted, they'd need to find a new one, and this time they had moved a little closer to the Rock.
"But what are you up to, son? A scout ship? Did you change jobs?" Gerald asked.
Myles took the tea his mother offered him, and Lissia joined the table after everyone had their teas.
"Just a job." he said. "Someone ditched the scout ship and we are to bring it back to the Imperial Scout Services."
"Ah, it's always good to have friends in the Scout Services." Gerald said. He paused for a moment. "We'd like to see more of you."
"I can choose where I go now. But...the barman on Koenig's Rock said there were problems?" Myles asked carefully. He looked around furtively, to see who could overhear the conversation.
"We're in the clan now, we can talk free." Gerald replied, waving away Myles' concerns. "Ling Standard Products is moving in, claiming more and more. All the ore needs to be processed through their facility, so they are in a good position to take these claims."
"When did they start to come in?" Myles asked.
Gerald thought for a moment. "The last two years, I think. Rumour says they have plans for this area. Not so good for us independents. Some of us try and stand up to them, but..." He spread his hands in a gesture of futility. Obviously nothing good came of standing up to LSP.
"What happened to those people?" Qupar asked. Gerald turned to answer him.
"Claim hopping, getting tied up in litigation. They have the money for a legal battle, we don't." His voice was dripping with disdain when Gerald spoke of LSP. "We'd rather move on and work, or we'll starve. How do you stand up to a large company like LSP?" he asked, and sighed. "Muscle turns up. Don't know where those come from, but LSP elbows in wherever they can make a profit. A big player like LSP? They are the law in these kinds of places. They want something? They can just take it."
"This thing with LSP sounds bad." Hasta said. "You should get some weapons. It feels like a fool's errand, so how do we get Myles' family out of this?"
"Larger corpos like this?" Myles replied; "There's nothing you can do against them."
Hasta turned to Myles. "We need to make sure we keep our eye on the prize."
Gerald cut in. "Don't you worry about supplies and stuff. We may be belters, but we can get our things. Just keep scratching a living. It's a big belt - lots of ore to mine."
"Did the problems start when you started to mine this claim?" Moira asked.
"Oh we get on with things, but people further out have problems of their own. Fuel seems to go astray, cargo being bumped off course...." Lissia said.
"Do you mean sabotage?" Moira asked. Lissia shrugged, and Gerald refused to reply.
"Suspicious behaviour." Myles said. "We're on our way to Flammarion, we can ask around with Scout Services. See what they know."
Gerald nodded. "If you could ask them to drop in and keep an eye out here, that would be appreciated."
Lissia refilled the teacups and deftly changed the subject. "I don't think Kyle's forgiven you for getting out of this hell hole and becoming a hero. You should spend some time with him and your sister while you're here."
They were welcome to stay a few days, and some of the cousins as well as Kyle took quite a shine to Dendr and his stories. When they said their goodbyes on 039/1104, Lissia held her son for a very long time, followed by Gerald, and then Lissia hugged them both tight.
TO BE CONTINUED....
Read the next entry in this campaign.
Read the first entry in this campaign.
"So Moira," Hasta asked. "How do you feel about not being with the Penelope?"
She thought about it for a moment. The people in the bar were just people in a bar, drinking. They looked like hard workers, their faces worn from hours of labour in vacc suits on a lonely asteroid. Some were toasting happily for selling a batch of ore at a good price, others looked dour and were nursing a drink like it would be their last.
"I'm relieved the mortgage payments are frozen, but I'd like to get home; she finally replied. "But if there's anything interesting to do on Bowman..." she trailed off.
"The Penelope is your ship, so if you want to go home..." Hasta said. "Do we want to make money on the way back or just get back?"
Myles put down his glass. "I'd like to go visit my parents."
Hasta quickly finished his drink and changed the subject. "And I'd like to buy some more guns."
"Ah." Moira laughed. "Some people buy snow globes when they're travelling. Hasta just buys guns to remember the journey."
Myles waited for her to finish speaking and then returned to the topic of his parents. "They work in the belt. Done that most of their life. I can't imagine how they feel about me joining the navy. They might not have liked that."
"Do you have any siblings?" Moira asked.
"Yes, I have an older brother Kyle and a younger sister Esther. I was closer to her than I was with my brother." Myles said. "I've been in contact with them, you know, sending recorded messages home over the years. But I haven't seen them in 20 years."
He got up from his chair and walked to the bar. The barman was an oily looking chap with the worn look of belters native to the system. As Myles approached the bar the barman turned towards him and jerked his head back in a 'what'll you have' gesture.
"I'm looking for clan Brayden." Myles said to the man. "Do you have any information so I can get in touch?"
The barman ignored the question, and kept polishing a glass with a slightly less than dirty cloth. "What would you like to drink? Most people come in here, buy a drink first. Some beers for you?"
Qupar smiled and covered it politely with a hand. Obviously they needed to buy another round for the barkeep to give them any kind of information, and it probably might not even be that cheap.
"Your best." Myles replied.
Moira had overheard, and piped up from their table. "Do you have anything stronger?"
The barman put down the glass and picked up a new one that needed a light wipe down with a musty rag. He started to fire off a long list of drinks. "Fizzies, rocks on the rocks, distilled lichen, homegrown vat beer, acid wrap..."
"Acid wrap. That sounds good." Myles replied quickly before the list grew any longer. "Make it seven glasses. Six for me and one for you."
The barman managed the tiniest hint of a smile and put down the glass as the first one of seven to fill with a dark bottle from under the bar. "What's this clan you're after then?" he said, filling up the glasses with a finger height of dark liquid. He didn't look up at Myles, seemingly too busy to pour the drinks.
"Clan Brayden." Myles replied earnestly.
"And you are?" A quick flash of an eye up towards Myles' face and the belter tattoos, and then back to the drinks.
"I'm Myles Brayden."
"Well anyone can say that. How do I know you're really Miles Brayden?" de Bartender started putting glasses on the bar for Dendr to start serving to the rest of the crew at the table. Myles opened a pocket and took out his ID and from another pocket grabbed a 50 credit bill to pay for the drinks.
The bartender put the money in the till and took the ID to examine it. He held up the card to the light, checked the back, and ran it over an infrared scanner that appeared from a small cubby hole under the bar before handing it back to Myles. "What do you want from them?" he sighed.
Myles pocketed his ID again. "I've come to see my family."
The bartender wiped the bar down with the rag and pointed off into the distance. "They were staking a claim on the outer part of the system. Now they're moving closer to Koenig's Rock. Couple of hours out. They're still going strong, and I know your pa. Strong as a rock."
"Always has been." Miles grinned with pride.
Moira put her empty glass back on the table and called over to Myles: "C'mon Myles, you have to show off your new scarf!"
The barkeep ignored her, and banged a fist on his leg, which made a metallic sound. "These are rough times. My own mining days are over. Word to the wise: Keep yerself to yerself."
Myles nodded his thanks, and slipped a few credits towards the barman, who blinked. "What's this for?"
"For being so helpful." he smiled.
"This'll go into the old retirement fund." the barman smiled at Myles. "Listen, keep yerself to yerself, there's enough trouble out here and you don't need none of it. You seem like good kid."
Qupar, returning the empty glasses to the bar, asked softly; "What kind of trouble are you referring to?"
The barman returned to wiping the bar and ignored Qupar's question, but leaned slightly towards Myles. "Just talk to your pa. He'll fill you in."
Myles put his hand on Qupar's arm. In another part of the bar a conversation had steadily grown louder over the past few minutes, and a fight was breaking out. The barman grabbed a cudgel from behind the bar, and started to move off to break it up.
The crew left him to it and went out to look for a weapon's shop.
"I'd like a ceramic blade." Hasta said. "What have you got?"
They had found a kind of hardware store in Koenig's Rock and were checking out the merchandise. It wasn't a big store and the plastiglass display cases were sturdy enough to keep tools and weapons out of reach. There were a ton of mining tools, most of which Qupar didn't even know what to do with. The weapons were stored in cases behind the counter, but there were also a bunch of crates locked without showing what was inside.
The shopkeep was eying the big man in front of him suspiciously, so Hasta stretched and took his long sleeved shirt off, exposing military tattoos on his forearms and biceps. The shopkeeper nodded and ran a hand through his greasy hair. "You've seen some action, haven't you?"
"I am interested in a ceramic knife." Hasta repeated himself.
The shopkeeper shook his head. "No market for it. Who would want a ceramic knife?"
"Everybody does!" Hasta replied. "Much easier to slide it out afterward." He sounded exasperated, like he was explaining it to a six year old.
The merchant was rubbing his ear thoughtfully, no doubt to more evenly coat it with the grease from his hair. "There's a few things you'd like. Some things come in occasionally. What kind of things would you like?"
"Weapons. Yes." Hasta said. "Any."
"Well I don't have any laser weapons I'm afraid." The merchant started ticking things off on his fingers. "Accelerator rifles, pistols, revolvers, brass knuckles, stealth daggers, stun sticks, smoke grenades, neurotoxin grenades - I suggest you don't drop those with the pin out, you know - energy rifles, crossbows, suppressors, tripods, flak jackets, tactical riot armour..." he trailed off; "That's just a rough idea of what we've got."
Hasta had perked up visibly at the promise of so many fun things to play with. "How much is the accelerator rifle?"
The shopkeep didn't bat an eye. "1800 credits."
"Phew." Hasta whistled. It was a lot more expensive than wherever he was used to shopping, apparently.
"Look at where we are." The shopkeeper said, spreading his hands to take in the whole of the shop. The neon Tool Time sign behind the counter flickered once. Then he changed his tone. "Gives you a nice kick."
"Well it works in zero gravity;" Hasta retorted; "So someone gets a kick."
While Hasta started to pile his choices at the register, Qupar found an assault pistol not unlike the weapon he had used while he was on the force, and Myles took a fancy to a cutlass and a revolver, and then started stocking up on thermal and smoke grenades along with Hasta.
In the back, Dendr was in the market for something entirely different. He was eyeing electronics and had picked out some audio equipment, a bug and receiver combo to work with.
While the shopkeep was ringing up their total, Qupar pointed out the medical supplies near the door. "Since we're such kind fellows, any chance you could throw in some of these?"
The merchant was over the moon with their order and was grinning like it was Christmas. "I'll make you a kind offer, good sir, and I'll throw in an improved First Aid kit as a little bonus to thank you for your kind patronage." He smiled some very rotten teeth bare in thanks.
Back at the docks they loaded up 10 tons of mail as a cargo for Asteltine and spent the next few hours flying out to the Brayden Claim in the asteroid belt. Myles took the seat at the comms panels and warned the rest of the crew. "Don't let Dendr near comms. Or Hasta near the gun turret."
He opened a channel. "Greetings clan Brayden. My name's Myles Brayden. I haven't been home in a while, and I've come to say hello to my parents."
They didn't have to wait long for a reply. The comm panel crackled and a face popped up on the screen slightly out of focus. "Be advised you are approaching a clan claim, we are prepared to open fire. Confirm who you are."
Moira huffed. "Remind them this is an Imperial ship and firing on it will be a bad idea."
Myles ignored her. "I haven't been home in sixteen years. My pa is Gerald and my mom is Lissia."
They were told to hold position and not approach further, and the connection cut out. A few minutes later the connection was re-established and the video connection popped back up on the screen. An older man with bearded bristles and thinning hair cracked a smile as soon as the feed connected.
"I got a message you were in system." he smiled; "What are you doing here?"
"Thought I'd pop in." Myles smiled back.
The man on the screen turned to the side and started giving instructions to assign a berth for the ship. "Follow course and don't deviate from it for your own safety."
Dendr crossed his arms after Myles dropped the feed. "Does it spell clan with a K? I'm getting a weird feeling. Parappa might need to hide in the pantry."
They docked safely at the asteroid by extending a docking tube to form a connection to the structure, allowing them safe passage onto the clan's territory. As the doorway slid open, Myles' parents and several other people from the clan were waiting for them. Some of them were holding weapons, but lightly. None of the weapons were trained on their visitors, but that could change if their intentions were hostile.
"Hello son." Gerald said warmly. He was a smallish man, with thinning hair that had gone grey in the years that Myles had been away. His shoulders and hands were still strong, and it was clear he was still working the mines as he had always done. But Gerald was bustled aside by the woman next to him. "There's my boy, my big boy." She hugged Myles tightly. "Are they feeding you well? Oh, don't just stand there, come in, come in!"
Moira put her hand on Myles' shoulder. "Want us to wait with the ship?"
"Nonsense." Myles' mother said. "Come in, come in, everyone!"
The people holstered their weapons and relaxed visibly. One or two of them nodded at Myles and sauntered off in side corridors while the crew were bustled into a common area with a large table with at least thirty sturdy chairs and a kitchen area at the back of the room. Obviously this was the common area where the clan would eat together after a long work day. Everything looked well used, but it was clean.
"What brings you to this neck of the woods?" Gerald asked his son.
"Well, it's the first time I could actually decide where I'd want to travel." Myles said apologetically. His time in the navy had obviously not allowed him to take a holiday or been close enough to Bowman to visit home.
Gerald told about working claims since Myles' departure. Work in the Belt meant the clan would work a claim, sell their ore at Koenig's Rock, and if they were lucky to get a rich claim, times were good. After a claim was depleted, they'd need to find a new one, and this time they had moved a little closer to the Rock.
"But what are you up to, son? A scout ship? Did you change jobs?" Gerald asked.
Myles took the tea his mother offered him, and Lissia joined the table after everyone had their teas.
"Just a job." he said. "Someone ditched the scout ship and we are to bring it back to the Imperial Scout Services."
"Ah, it's always good to have friends in the Scout Services." Gerald said. He paused for a moment. "We'd like to see more of you."
"I can choose where I go now. But...the barman on Koenig's Rock said there were problems?" Myles asked carefully. He looked around furtively, to see who could overhear the conversation.
"We're in the clan now, we can talk free." Gerald replied, waving away Myles' concerns. "Ling Standard Products is moving in, claiming more and more. All the ore needs to be processed through their facility, so they are in a good position to take these claims."
"When did they start to come in?" Myles asked.
Gerald thought for a moment. "The last two years, I think. Rumour says they have plans for this area. Not so good for us independents. Some of us try and stand up to them, but..." He spread his hands in a gesture of futility. Obviously nothing good came of standing up to LSP.
"What happened to those people?" Qupar asked. Gerald turned to answer him.
"Claim hopping, getting tied up in litigation. They have the money for a legal battle, we don't." His voice was dripping with disdain when Gerald spoke of LSP. "We'd rather move on and work, or we'll starve. How do you stand up to a large company like LSP?" he asked, and sighed. "Muscle turns up. Don't know where those come from, but LSP elbows in wherever they can make a profit. A big player like LSP? They are the law in these kinds of places. They want something? They can just take it."
"This thing with LSP sounds bad." Hasta said. "You should get some weapons. It feels like a fool's errand, so how do we get Myles' family out of this?"
"Larger corpos like this?" Myles replied; "There's nothing you can do against them."
Hasta turned to Myles. "We need to make sure we keep our eye on the prize."
Gerald cut in. "Don't you worry about supplies and stuff. We may be belters, but we can get our things. Just keep scratching a living. It's a big belt - lots of ore to mine."
"Did the problems start when you started to mine this claim?" Moira asked.
"Oh we get on with things, but people further out have problems of their own. Fuel seems to go astray, cargo being bumped off course...." Lissia said.
"Do you mean sabotage?" Moira asked. Lissia shrugged, and Gerald refused to reply.
"Suspicious behaviour." Myles said. "We're on our way to Flammarion, we can ask around with Scout Services. See what they know."
Gerald nodded. "If you could ask them to drop in and keep an eye out here, that would be appreciated."
Lissia refilled the teacups and deftly changed the subject. "I don't think Kyle's forgiven you for getting out of this hell hole and becoming a hero. You should spend some time with him and your sister while you're here."
They were welcome to stay a few days, and some of the cousins as well as Kyle took quite a shine to Dendr and his stories. When they said their goodbyes on 039/1104, Lissia held her son for a very long time, followed by Gerald, and then Lissia hugged them both tight.
TO BE CONTINUED....
Read the next entry in this campaign.
Read the first entry in this campaign.
