[001] - A Spot of Gardening

[Faanku]

Madam Chen's Noodles, Sleepless Market, Mejo
Tuesday 18-01-3200
18:03

"Got a little job for you all. Nothing too taxing for such capable people, and the money's so good this is practically a favour from me to you." Kal Kasama, the slick-talking, arrogant information broker that called you in here smiles at you from across a worn desk. The secure office at the back of the restaurant is a simple affair, furnished for brief face-to-face gatherings away from prying eyes, quiet aside from the muted hum of the trans-district magrail running past every 45 seconds, and with the pleasant smell of refried nutrient pastes and vat-grown vegetables from the kitchens filling the air. Kal leans back in his chair and continues, already utterly assured that you'll accept his generous offer. "A friend of mine, businessman in the pharmaceutical industry; one of his suppliers has missed a delivery, which means several of his client's orders have remain unfilled. Whilst this is not good for business, what concerns him the most is that this supplier is known for her reliability. Punctual, keeps regular contact, yadda yadda yadda; long story short, this ain't like her, and this friend of mine wants to know if his supplier has decided to make some... ill-advised decisions regarding her employment situation."

He takes a sip of dark amber liquid from the short glass on the desk, and lets out a satisfied sigh. "And that's where you come in, my lovelies. There's a shuttle docked at the Helden Lane Starport, bay 3, all fuelled up and ready to fly, just waiting for five eclectically-talented young problem solvers to hop on board, make their way out to the coordinates programmed into its nav computer, and to see just what the fuck has happened to our absent supplier. It could very well be nothing, but we all know that ain't the case, so instead we've prepared for everything. That's why you'll all be working together on this little jaunt. Complementary skill sets and all that. Anyways, get out there, fix whatever issues you encounter, and have that shipment back here by the end of the week, and when you hand it over you'll each be 5 ton richer."

The fixer nods, causing one of the large bodyguards to move away from the door at the back of the room towards you. He reaches into his breast pocket, producing a standard memory chip and places it carefully on the desk in front of you before returning to his overwatch by the door, his military-grade spike thrower held in a manner that advises against any ill-advised decisions here as well. "One last thing, my friends. Where you're going is off the grid; incognito, if you will. My friend and I are trusting you with some rather valuable information in giving away this supplier's location, so I hope you appreciate just how much faith I'm putting in you all here. Don't let me down, eh?"

Kal's tone signals that the meeting is over, and that any questions you might have will be answered by the datachip. You are politely but firmly ushered out of the office by Kal's two security guards, into the sprawling, humid bustle of the infamous Sleepless Market.

====

Slotting the offered memory chip into a standard compad port will relay the following information:

• The station is a partially damaged Callaway 16 Sentiel Class, one of the many pre-Scream instalments lost to time and commandeered by scavenger types.
• The station, known as the Flowerbed in typical pirate humour, is a hydroponics farm used to grow plants which are then synthesised into powerful drugs.
• The Flowerbed is hidden inside an asteroid field in deep space, which is how it has remained such a secure location. It takes a day or two to travel there from Mejo, depending on the quality of your ship and the skill of your pilot.
• The errant supplier and undisputed captain of the Flowerbed is a League member by the name of Nina Rose (pirate humour has many levels), known for her ruthless efficiency.
• Rose's latest shipment is nearly 2 days late and absolutely no word has been received from her crew. This is unprecedented for someone of her professionalism.
• You have less than a little over 5 days before Kal has promised his client's shipment (Deadline 23:59 on Sunday 23-01-3200), which is to be handed over to one of Kal's associates at the Helden Lane Starport immediately on arrival.
• Once the shipment is confirmed as delivered, you shall each receive 500 credits in the form of an untraceable credstick.
• The shuttle provided is a standard Tausass-class civilian transport. It is unarmed, and fitted with a rating-1 spike drive, atmospheric configuration, fuel scoops, a ship's locker, and a smuggler's hold, with 4 tons of free cargo space available. It will comfortably house 10 people. Its stores are fully stocked, so you will not have to pay any living expenses for the duration of the job.

[Marullus]

Damian Stavros (HP: 1/1, AC: 14)


Damian arrived early, sitting at the end of the counter with a helping of brown-sauced lo mein noodles on his plate. He has a once-white t-shirt poking out at the zipper of his dark gray, patched engineering coveralls, the tool-pouches on his belt and compact tool-case slung on his crossbody strap leaving his trade unmistakable. In a place like this, he'd be more noteable for not having the clearly visible laser pistol on his hip and vibroknife in the top of his well-worn black boots than for having them as he does. A cup of green tea steams next to him, but he pays it little attention.

He occasionally scans the room, curious about which of the other patrons may be on his next crew and if he'll know them and wary of who might be a scavving threat to their future job. Picking at the pink protein chunks with his chopsticks, he mostly ends up watching the news vids on the TV screen in the corner.

Notice (Wis+1/notice-1) [2d6] = 3

He looks mournfully at his plate as the oversized thug motions for him to come into the back. He unceremoniously dumps his remaining noodles into a fold-sided plain container with a thin wire handle, unwilling to leave it behind. Entering the back room, he notes Vyrner Odo, quietly taking a spot to lean against the wall nearest his ship captain. He slurps a noodle a little too loudly as Kal Kasama pauses smugly between sentences, but otherwise seems content to watch passively throughout the one-sided office conversation.

Damian makes no move for the data stick, waiting to see who takes the initiative to pick it up and seize the moment...

[eirei]

Silas dan Mallory (HP: 8/8, AC: 14)


A scruffy-looking man whose face displays more than his fair share of scars sits hunched at the counter. Being somewhat of a regular - at least when he's on the ground - Silas can't help but be curious about several unfamiliar faces, but chooses to mind his own business. In front of him is his second glass of Madam Chen's vilest so-called baijiu, now almost empty. As the barkeep moves in to replace it, he waves him off dismissively - he's here for business today.

When one of Kasama's men finally nods at him and points subtly towards the back room, he pays for his drinks and heads for the fixer's office, his long coat almost sweeping the filthy floor. He makes a point of keeping his holstered weapon in plain sight as he does so, a habit from his army days. His eyes race across the crowd nervously as he evades the occupied tables. At a place like this, trouble's never more than a misstep away.

---

He lights up a cigarette and listens intently as the broker explains the job. After a mook places the datachip on the desk, he picks it up and turns it over a few times before slotting it into his compad.

"Don't mind if I do."

Skimming through the data, he frowns at a few key details before unplugging the chip and placing it back onto the table for others to peruse.

---

After the armed muscle escorts the group out of the office, he gestures towards a nearby alley, isolated enough from bustle of the Market to hold a private conversation.

"Awfully nice of Kasama to send us off to meet pirates in an unarmed shuttle. Ever the optimist, that guy." He shrugs dramatically. "But the pay's good, so I guess I don't get to be picky."

He looks over the present company before making an exaggerated bow.

"Name's Mallory. Seeing as Kasama said something 'bout choosing us for our skillsets, I'd say I'm your driver. Pleasure's all mine, I'm sure."

[Enoch]

Vyrner Odo (HP 6/6, AC 13)


Odo nods to Stavros as he passes through the noodle shop into the back room, attempting and mostly succeeding at disguising a slight limp. Although he looks curiously around the room at first, his eyes lingering on the weapons carried by the bodyguards, he focuses entirely on Kal as the fixer starts talking. He offers only a few comments during the discussion and makes only a token effort to get their pay bumped--it seems clear that he realizes this is as much as Kal is likely to offer. The old trader's shoulders slump progressively as the meeting continues, and he fiddles with a worn docking bay chit.

His mood seems to brighten considerably as the group leaves the office, however, and he appears to take note of the others present for the first time. "Well!
Five hundred credits is no fortune, but it is not a bad start, I suppose." He runs a hand through his steel-grey hair as he pockets the chit. He looks to Mallory with a smile. "You there! Mallory, is it? A pilot, eh? I've flown a ship or two, most recently the Vale of Tears--you may have heard of it, I had many the trading run in it--but I can't really call myself a pilot. What do you think of the Tausass-class? I have a friend or two who've shipped goods in them before. Any good if we have to fight or run?"

Odo pats his sides, as if searching for something in his pockets or on his belt, before turning to one of the guards. "I...this job sounds--well, dangerous. I suppose I should be armed as well. Is there someplace in the market where I could get a weapon? Something appropriately gruesome and intimidating, I should think. Yes, that would do quite the job." He smiles hopefully. "Oh, and while we're at it--I should have asked your boss this--is there any specialized equipment we're likely to need?"

[explosiveghast]

Entering the noodle house, Agnahr has a rough looking man in tow. They tidily consume a couple of pints and Agnahr picks up the bill. They chat idly about a future venture for awhile more until the man rises and leaves. He pays for another beer and a bowl of pan-fried noodles. He regards the rest of the patrons with a warm smile until his food arrives. With chopsticks, he holds a vegetable or two up to the light, studying the ingredients as he dines.

He heads to the back room with the others when Kal arrives. Agnahr is tall and lanky and moves with an animal grace. He has a curved monosword at his side, resembling a dadao.

He listens intently as Kal pitches and seems to find no quarrel with the offer. He looks to the others, gauging their interest and ability.

After Mallory replaces the datachip, Agnahr follows suit. As he reads, his lips move and it takes him a full minute to realize this. He stops suddenly and sheepishly looks up from his compad. Satisfied the others are not judging his behavior, he resumes his survey of the information, copying it to his device before returning it to the table.

Upon exit, he takes a moment to eye the street of the market. Easily rejoining the group, he hears Odo’s inquiry. We could probably use some vacc suits, yeah?

[Marullus]

Damian Stavros (HP: 1/1, AC: 14)

After Mallory and Agnahr handle the data stick, Damian picks it up off the table. He downloads the data and air-drops it to Odo, then passes the chip to their last new shipmate to keep (Benedict 'P1LF3R' Alder).

He scoops up a large duffle bag, slinging it across his back, and follows the others outside, skimming rapidly through the datapad as he shuffles at the rear.

"I...this job sounds--well, dangerous. I suppose I should be armed as well. Is there someplace in the market where I could get a weapon? Something appropriately gruesome and intimidating, I should think."

Two days ago...
Damian Stavros browses a quirky antiquities dealer ship off the main marketplace of Mejo. The place smells of lubricating oil and pipe smoke, antique and unique weapons, broken bits of pretech now sold as tabletop curios, rolled up paintings from looted worlds. Damian feigns casual interest in a framed painting in a plexiglass case, whispering to himself in preparation as he examines a rack of intimidating-looking Sarokoulon disruptor pistols. Damian approaches the shopkeeper, shakes his hand, and suggests that the cased panting is severely overpriced, and then looks at the salesman expectantly. When his proposal is rejected, he struggles to contain his shock and anger, then has no choice but acknowledge defeat and depart.

"I know just the place to get you a Sarokoulon disruptor as a statement piece," Stavros offers to Odo. He pats the side of his duffel. "I'm Stavros and I suppose I am your engineer. I have some bits and bobs to work with when we need them. I don't relish spending time in a vacc suit, but I'd recommend making sure we have some Laz patches... And it never hurts to have a brick of explosive resin to work with." He smiles.

He mulls quietly over his datapad as he slurps his lo mein. 500 credits should do it, he thinks, a pang of regret over leaving the antique painting behind. That man has no idea what he has and I can only hope nobody else who seeks the Artificers Vertices stumbles on it. I could've conjured something to trade for it, but I couldn't have escaped accusations of thievery when it later disappeared. One thing about Mejo... Never shit where you eat.

He sucks in the last noodle and tosses the box in a stinking trash bin on the corner, tucking away his datapad in the side pocket of his coveralls. "I will show you the way to the shop, then we get to the dock? We get a few days in space to play cards and share war stories of you all like before we get to finding our missing friends... But our clock is ticking."

[Enoch]

"Vacc suits, hmm?" The grizzled trader seems to consider this. "Well, if the ship doesn't have them, I suppose I could provide one or two. Hopefully we won't have cause for all of us to go off jaunting in space!"

He stops for a moment, chewing on his lower lip before looking around at the group. "I'm a little short on funds--a misunderstanding with the authorities on Kakimedes--or I'd pick up a cargo and perhaps fund our operations by doing a little side trading." He stifles a sigh before continuing, walking slowly among the cacophonous stalls and shops. "Maybe it's for the best. The Tausass doesn't have the roomiest of cargo holds, and our benefactor apparently is on a very strict deadline."

He stops to inspect a bolt of vat-grown silk and shakes his head, apparently unsatisfied with the cloth he rubs between thumb and forefinger. "So! This 'Flowerbed'. Anyone know anything about it? It has something of an unsavory reputation."

I assume we have time and opportunity to buy standard gear before we leave.

Odo follows the mechanic's directions and is soon browsing the weaponry, picking up each of the available sidearms and inspecting them closely (though he doesn't really seem to know what he's looking for, and seems more interested in the visual aspects of the weapons).

"Now, you said a disrupter? Is that like a thermal pistol? I've heard they are very useful. What about this one?" He holds up one of the larger mag pistols.

[ybn1197]

Benedict "P1LF3R" Alder (HP: 3/3, AC: 14)

P1LF3R walked into the noodle shop. He hated this on-site communiques. He hated anything that involved being in a crowd. Some said he was agoraphobic, others thought he was paranoid. He thought it was a life-style choice. He was safer on the 'net. That was his playground. Waiting for the fixer, "Pilfer" took a seat at the counter and ordered some noodles, making sure there was at least one empty stool on either side of him.

When Kal asks for the team, Pilfer follows the others into the room and takes a seat uncomfortably. He notes with some small anxiety the number of people in this small rooms and does his best to beat the anxiety down with a mental broomstick so he can concentrate on what Kal has to say. When the times comes for him to look at the datachip, he downloads it to a virtual data-reader on his dataslab to keep it away from his active data.

As the group wanders about to get last minute gear, Pilfer takes the offered chip from Stavros and begins to analyze it to see if there is any old data that was wiped from it or if Kal added any malware to it.

[Marullus]

Damian Stavros (HP: 1/1, AC: 14)
Damian lets out a low whistle at the wicked looking Mag Pistol. "Is that Antakis military grade? One thing for sure.. you point that at someone and they'll be sweeping pieces off the floor. Might be more likely to hit with a laser, though." His advice is overly simplistic to the ears of the actual gunfighters of the group.

Damian discretely scans the shop to find the plexiglass case and if his painting/map hasn't been sold...

So, GM. How do you want us to do rolls? I did a proactive one originally, or you want to call for them and set difficulties? Before the shuttle so far I see:
* Pilfer using Program to examine the datastick
* Odo using Trade to haggle a Mag Pistol
* Stavros trying to get the shopkeep to reveal the buyer with Connect (if the painting is gone)
* Also, I intend to use Connect+Wis to check with contacts and in Spacebook to see if there's any hints to what's up with Nina Rose and her gang....

[Faanku]

Costine's Trove Antiques, Sleepless Market, Mejo
Tuesday 18-01-3200
19:47

Much to the magister's relief, the puzzle piece to his elusive map remains unsold, exactly where he last saw it; as is the old man reclined comfortably in a vintage ruffalo leather chair. He keeps a lazy eye on the group perusing his firearm selection from behind a sturdy desk, surrounded by various curios and trinkets from far flung corners of the sector as he nonchalantly enjoys a strange pipe whose smoke changes colour every time he exhales. Presently, a large cloud of pleasant-smelling orange smoke mists out from him accompanied by a mirthful sigh. "Pomegranate," he mutters to himself before speaking up so you can hear. "It don't matter how many louts you come in here with, Mr Stavros. That disrupter isn't leaving my store for less than 300 credits, just like what I told you two days ago!" Though his speech is a little rough, his tone is generally convivial; the quintessential Mejoan merchant.

Meanwhile, a holotag attached to the electronically-secured handcannon in Odo's possession confirms that it is indeed an Antakis-made special order, and goes on to claim that it was once owned by the famed gentleman-pirate Amon dan Sithar. How much of this is true or not would probably depend on your love of romance, but the fact remains that it's a masterfully-crafted weapon. Noticing your apparent interest, the pipe-smoking man turns his attentions to the shipless far-trader. "Got a good eye my friend, mighty fine piece you're holding there and no mistake." A puff of shimmering green smoke emanates from his grinning maw. "Genuine piece of history, and yours for a mere 900 creds!"

Outside the store, Benedict's concurrent analysis of the chip takes just a few short moments; verifying the authenticity of a common datachip is child's play for such an accomplished software specialist. He doesn't find any malware or anything that would compromise the functionality of any hardware it would be slotted into, though he does notice one tiny piece of scrubbed code. A few seconds recompiling using one of his custom programs reconstructs the data; the star coordinates to the Flowerbed. Though the shuttle provided to you was promised to have these preloaded for you, someone thought it prudent to keep them as secret as possible. It seems that Kal's warning to keep the station's location to yourself was more than just empty bluster.

The ostensible piece of history that Odo holds is a mag pistol with an Extended Magazine mod; currently in need of maintenance to make combat ready, but otherwise perfectly functional.

On the subject of rolls: As the system is written I'm SUPPOSED to give you the DC before you roll, but unless people are keeping a tight watch on the threads that may slow things down too much, so feel free to be proactive on most things, so long as you tell me what exactly the roll is for alongside it. All of the examples you listed as an example would be fine to roll without prompting, so long as I know what you're aiming to do; in fact, rolls should only be needed if there is an important or dangerous consequence for failure in the first place. SWN assumes that merely having a skill at rank-1 or rank-2 makes you a highly trained and seasoned expert in said skill. As a slight aside, it might do to state that you plan to use things like Expert re-rolls on fails in advance.

Go ahead and roll for Connect, as well as Trade/Cha if you are indeed trying to lower the price on the weapons; both of these either have penalties for failure or varying degrees of success, so they are perfect examples of things to roll for. Also, feel free to utilise this kind of OOC chat as much as possible to let me know where you plan to go and what you plan to do so I can try to weave roll results better into the narrative; if you head straight to the starport from here I can have Damien's Spacebook results come back once you've boarded the shuttle, for instance.

[Enoch]

Odo coughs slightly and waves his hand to disperse the sweet-smelling smoke. "Lout, is it?", he mutters under his breath. "The Pedagogue-General at the Academy would be livid at a merchant insulting customers."

Plastering an obviously fake smile on his face, Vyrner glances up briefly at the old man before returning his gaze to the weapon in his hands. "Dan Sithar, you say? You have proof of provenance, I suppose? No? That's too bad; it is a nice story, though, even if it's probably fake. Very pretty, isn't it?"

He turns to Benedict. "Though I suppose you gunslingers don't prefer that term. What do you think of it?
A little run-down, don't you think? It will need a bit more than some spit and polish to get it working right.

"And an extended magazine! Surely if you need more than a standard clip from a weapon this size, the gun's not doing what it's supposed to. Why, it's almost double the going price for a weapon of this style, and for what? Extra shots you don't need, a dubious story about a dubious owner, and broken to boot!"

Odo shakes his head sadly as he replaces it on the table, then pats it gently. "I'll give you list price for it, and you should be glad to be selling it for half that."

I would like to try to bargain the price down:

: Trade (Charisma): [2d6+2] = 11+2 = 13

[ybn1197]

Pilfer stares incredulously at Odo for a heartbeat. The handcannon appeared to him to be in perfect condition and an exceptional piece. The added story meant nothing to Pilfer, those stories were for collectors and the uneducated. But he was not new to the streets himself and quickly realized what Odo was trying to do so Pilfer stood just to the side and behind Odo, stoic in support of the trader.

[explosiveghast]

"So! This 'Flowerbed'. Anyone know anything about it? It has something of an unsavory reputation."

Agnahr shrugs and looks to the smuggler, "Kal has his many fingers in many places. Usually, they are places that he himself has not seen. The man has so much competition but watching his fingers has been like watching a beekeeper collect honey without being stung. I admire him."

He continues, Odo, I too, wonder about this Flowerbed. I hope that this a rescue operation or that we need only to repair a communication device. Yet, if hostilities have taken place then we should prepare for that."

He slows as they approach the antique shop, casually turning to check for any signs of pursuit.

Trying not to look like additional leverage if the bartering goes awry, Agnahr remains outside the door. He flips through his compad again looking for survival gear that may be stowed on the shuttle as he keeps watchful eyes on the dense pedestrian traffic of the market.

[eirei]

Silas discusses the specifications of their shuttle with Odo as they make their way to the antiquarian.

"...and like I said, she's a fine ship, no doubt. Even if we need to run, I'm confident I can get us out of there in time. But if we need to fight... well, let's hope it doesn't get to that. Least not before we get aboard the station. Besides-"

As they makes their way into the shop and the ornate pistol catches Odo's eye, Silas pauses mid-sentence, distracted by the weapon. "Well I'll be... The thing actually looks genuine.", he mutters to himself.

He scoffs after hearing the shopkeeper's fib about the gun's origin story. His mother used to tell him stories about Sithar's exploits when he was a kid, he recalled. But even then he thought the tales were overblown. Hell, he wasn't convinced the pirate had even existed.

"Aye, a fine tale, friend. Fitting for such a fine weapon. Got another one to regale us with, eh?"

[Faanku]

Costine's Trove Antiques, Sleepless Market, Mejo
Tuesday 18-01-3200
19:49

The man listens to Odo's spiel intently, only puffing on his pipe when the man has finished. "Not your first rodeo, is it?" He exhales a silver cloud and replies in a tone bordering on admiration. "Firstly, I won't sit here and have you question the authenticity of my wares. Thirty years I've owned this fine emporium, stocked initially by my own hand from all across the sector, and not once have I displayed a single item as anything more than I know it to be! Secondly, I would remind you, my silver-tongued fellow, that the sign above my door reads 'Antiques' and not 'Armoury'. If you wanted any mere gun then walk blindly into any stall on this planet and try not to trip over one; that is a collector's item!" He pauses to puff a fine purple mist into the air which the man stares at keenly. "That said... the piece has been sat on my shelf for close to 6 years now without a single sign of it ever leaving me. You're the first to show it so much interest, and frankly I'll be glad to see it sold. 450 credits to you, in honour of your practised patter; the same price I paid for it. May you have better luck turning a profit on the thing!"

As the intense haggling rages on in the store behind him, Agnahr's instincts find him scanning the shadows for any sign of unwanted attention, but he finds no such thing. Scrolling through the shuttle information provided by the chip, he notes that the Tausass-class is well-stocked in esoteric equipment. Vacc-suits, thermal flares, atmofilters, even a few lazarus patches; it seems that all kinds of items are waiting for you on board.

900 credits technically is list price for a mag pistol with that mod, unless you meant list price for a mag pistol as is; either way, you were incredibly convincing.

As I mentioned in the OOC thread, I forgot to include the Ship's Locker in the shuttle's specs. Assume that any non-military equipment you might need is available to you.

[Enoch]

As a player I recognize that 900cr is the standard price for that weapon, though that's out of his range. Whether Odo realizes it, well...weapons aren't his forte. He knows when he's getting a good deal, though!

In a slightly-related note, I may need to modify his macro for trading, as the Diplomacy ability lets him reroll 1's in certain circumstances, and the 2d6 notation doesn't show the individual die results.

The cloud of smoke no longer seems quite so odious to Vyrner Odo; in fact, now that the haggling has begun he seems quite oblivious to it. He leans over the table, nodding absently and turning the weapon over in his hands. Finally he clucks his tongue, sets the gun down and looks up at the old man.

"I must admit its history intrigues me; I was raised on stories of Amon dan Sithar, though my brothers would never let me be him when we played at pirates." He suddenly laughs at an ancient memory. "In fact, once they made me be Sirpil ji Jwan, the maiden he is said to...well! I'm sure you know the story.

The grizzled trader fishes a credchip out of an interior pocket of his coat. "You have a deal. I'll take the piece, along with any documentation you have to support its origins. You can beam it to my compad, here." He slides a battered slate out of its sheath and passes it over.

He turns to Benedict and Silas. "You'll teach me to use this, I hope. I'm sure you would agree that me firing this untrained in a gunfight would be as dangerous to you as it would be to any cultist or monster we may be facing!" He turns to Agnahr and chuckles. "I'll leave the swords and powerblades to you--I can barely lift 'em.
Well, you and whomever chooses to follow you. Powers know you have a way of inspiring people!"

He accepts the chip and slate back with a polite nod and turns to leave the store.

[Marullus]

Damian Stavros (HP: 1/1, AC: 14)
Damian stands brooding before the paintings under plexiglass, considering his options. I can't afford his price... and any other method is too risky. As long as 500 credits is enough...

the sign above my door reads 'Antiques' and not 'Armoury'. If you wanted any mere gun then walk blindly into any stall on this planet and try not to trip over one; that is a collector's item!"

Damian is broken from his reverie, sheepish at this blinding flash of the obvious from the merchant. He clears his throat and recovers as Odo agrees to the sale. "It is quite a statement piece."

Departing the shop, Damian skims through his data pad as they go, checking Spacebook leads and dark web postings to discover any leads on Nina Rose's crew and their recent activity...
Read the Situation: Nina Rose Crew (Wis+Connect) [2d6+2] = 5+2 = 7

[Faanku]

Bay 3, Helden Lane Starport, Mejo
Tuesday 18-01-3200
22:05

The old man transfers ownership of the engraved handcannon the far trader in short order, once again wishing Odo luck in selling the thing on at a profit. "And you know where to come if you want a good deal on a piece of history!" he calls out from a puff of green smoke. "Prosperity to you!" Now satisfied with their equipment and stock of antiques, the temporary crew head to the nearest maglev station and then on to their destination.

During the brief magrail journey to the Mejoan surface, Damian scours the Exchange Public Network for any pertinent information on Nina Rose, but finds practically nothing. Either someone is scrubbing any mention of her clean, or the woman is as secretive and professional as you've been led to believe. In fact, the last record of any kind for her online is a graduation listing from the Mejoan Planetary Institute, the largest further educational facility in the system, from almost a decade ago. Nina Rose seems to have earned several qualifications in the fields of medical science and chemistry.

Soon after making this discovery, the party of five arrive at the privately-owned Helden Lane Starport and make their way to Bay 3. A couple of security personnel seated at a table outside the bay's entrance look up from their e-card game as the team approaches and suggest that they might be in the wrong place, but potential misunderstandings are swiftly smoothed over by Agnahr and Odo, and the the security allow the team to access the shuttle bay. The Tausass-class is exactly as the chip promised, fully-stocked and equipped, just waiting for a final pre-flight check. Silas gravitates to the bridge almost subconsciously, and confirms that the Flowerbed's location has been programmed into the navcom; he could have this ship in the air in less than 5 minutes.

The shuttle's Drive-1 will get you to the Flowerbed in around 48 hours. You can attempt a DC 9 Pilot/Int to 'trim the course' which increases the effective Drive rating by one, in this case cutting travel time in half. If you fail the check however, your transit time is doubled. Assuming Silas is going to attempt the roll, everyone else may attempt to aid the skill check as per the rules on page 47.

[Marullus]

Damian Stavros (HP: 1/1, AC: 14)
Damian is not, in fact, satisfied with their equipment and stock of antiques. He mulls over his worry and regret at not having ensorcelled or robbed the shopkeeper to get the painting. Honest living is a bitch.

He shares what he learned about Nina Rose with the others, and her academics. "... Knows more about pharmaceuticals than most pirates, it would seem. A druggist rather than a druggie... I like a keen mind."

Arriving on the ship, he sets about checking the engine compartments and configurations. "This thing is practically factory spec," he comments through ship comms. "Can't say anyone ever had to rig it for fast-running. I can see if I can get you some extra boost from down here, Captain."

Helping the pilot by custom-rigging the engines with performance tweaks.
Fix+Int [1d6] = 3[1d6] = 4[1d6] = 6 best two+2
DC 9, total 12

[Enoch]

Vyrner Odo, HP: 6/6, AC: 13

The trader trails along behind his compatriots, lost in contemplation of his new-found treasure. He turns it over in his hands, inspecting every detail, flipping the safety on and off, releasing the magazine and slapping it back in, peering into the barrel, working the slide.

He comes out of his reverie briefly when Stavros speaks. "Hmm? Keen mind, oh, yes. Very good." He sighs and holsters the pistol, though he keeps his hand resting on the butt. He murmurs half to himself. "Oh, if my brothers could see me now. I wouldn't be the one wearing the dress, I can tell you that!"

As they make their way amongst the bustling stalls and storefronts, he gives his full attention to his companions for the first time since acquiring the magpistol. He raises his voice to be heard over the vendors hawking their wares. "So, this Nina Rose person. What do we know about her?"