[RP] Rendezvous -- 2220 Carstairs (and beyond?)

[Dave Baughman]

A JumpShip waits unobtrusively at the Carstairs system's nadir jump point...

(OOC: anyone showing up, please PM me with the details of who and what you have brought with me so I can keep tabs on it)

[Daemonknight]

Travis had the usual jump sickness he always had afterwards. Now I remember why I hate flying. Noticing that his guardians were not even slightly mussed, he forced himself to straighted out, and calmed himself before he blew his lunch into the compartment. Locating his briefcase, Travis prepared to move to their dropship. They moved to Travis' personal Union-C dropship, converted from a military transport into an expensive corporate transport. The mech bays had been converted to hold cargo, the upper bays converted into a luxury stateroom.

In his usual serene composure, Reinhardt floated into the room, settling down as the gravity took hold of him. He had a covered cup of coffee in his hands, and handed it to Travis.

"Drink, it always helps me get through Jump Sickness." It was the first time that Travis had heard of Reinhardt having anything even approaching a weakness, or imperfection. He drank his coffee, the two of them walking down the long compartment twords the docking collars.

"Do we know where they are?"
"Yes. There is a jumpship at anchor at the star's Nadir point. We'll detatch here, make the 3 hour trip, and then await the arrival of whoever else is in attendance." Reinhardt seemed unhappy about going into a situation without knowing all the players, but no doubt that was part of the reason he had come.

The two men came to the end of the gravity deck, Travis finished his coffee, and they slid into the zero-G section of the ship, meeting Travis' bodyguards right before the docking collar. After transferring into the private, luxury Union-C, it detatched and burned off twords the waiting jumpship, the captain being sure to keep the weapon systems hot, but locked on safe without his voice authorization. Likewise, the targeting systems were currently locked out from his gunners' control without his voice override. He would not be taking the chances at getting his charges harmed.

As the dropship approached, the Captain opened a channel to the waiting jumpship:

"This is Olivetti Transport-Alpha, carrying civilian cargo. Requesting permission for hard dock."

[Dave Baughman]

"Olivetti Alpha," said a voice with a bit of a Rassie accent, "this is the Canopus Merchantman Polar Dancer. You are cleared to dock at collar 1. Please be advised that once we go to jump stations your vessel will be required to deactivate all active and passive sensor devices; failure to comply will be considered a breach of contract."

"We are still expecting a few more arrivals. Your representatives are wellcome to transfer to the Grav Deck for cocktails and entertainment while you wait."

The name Polar Dancer immediately raised a couple of eyebrows on the Union's command deck. Polar Dancer had disappeared more than a year ago while hauling refugees between Odessa and Arcturus. A catastrophic misjump had been suspected at the time, but nothing ever came of the investigation.

[Daemonknight]

Olivetti-Alpha docks at collar 1. Reinhardt, Travis Olivetti, and Star Commanders Trisha and Nicholai leave the dropship, heading to the jumpship's gravity deck.

Olivetti-Alpha's captain shuts down all military systems except for the weapon's manual targeting systems. If these mysterious bastards think they'll hurt Mr. Olivetti or his guests, they'll be suprised when I pump missiles into their hull from pointblank.

((OOC: The DS's captain complys with the jumpship's instructions, but keeps his weapons hot untill jump stations are called. Travis, Reinhardt, and the bodyguards relax on the grav deck, waiting.))

[Fatebringer]

Oksana Ditnikova and her associates slipped into the personal landing craft  assigned to them. It would go all the way to the rendevous point with them.

Her employer had left express instructions on how far she would go and what to do with the credit slip and the shuttle should any foul play be afoot.

Oksana checked that the detenator was in place. The "Other" Hasek was not known to be a forgiving woman. If she lost the bid or the money, she was a dead woman.

[GraeGor]

Confident, Lendore Johnson was still mildly apprehensive about this whole thing. First the means by which he was contacted, second was trying to get the assets gathered to meet the minimum requirement, and third was arranging for passage on very short notice.

Fortunately, a person in Lendore's position had influence and pull in many areas, and even if he had to call in nearly every favor owed to him, he managed to acquire the funds and transport across what was the Lyran Commonwealth, from the portion that had chosen a Clan Warrior to the far side of the section claimed by Skye and Robert Kelswa-Steiner.

A few things still tugged at Lendore's conscience, the primary detail being the why?, as in why was he doing this. He had no real attachment to Charlamagne or Clan Star Adder, of course he had no real allegiance to Peter either. Sure he called himself a Lyran, but that was merely lip service, his true loyalty was, and is, to the all-mighty C-bill. Lendore Johnson is a capitalist at heart, with anything and everything that could make him money being acceptable.

So why was he doing this, that has been the question he's been asking himself since he felt the boost of the DropShip that got him off Alarion. So far he hasn't found the answer, and he certainly wasn't going to ask his longtime personal bodyguard, known as Vrax, as the only time he speaks is to acknowledge an order or to give warning. So having any form of conversation with him was pointless, talking to a ferrocrete wall would be more productive and enlightening.


When he boarded the last JumpShip that brought him here, Lendore was given, discretely, an envelope. Inside was the name and number of a private shuttle that would take him and Vrax to the final JumpShip, and is where the two were now, waiting for the tones that would take them elsewhere. That final destination, hopefully would not be his final destination, and maybe, just maybe, he'd figure out the answer to that question....

[Daemonknight]

Travis swirled the amber liquid in his glass, the strong woody flavor still stinging his mouth. He noticed movement from the corner of his eye, and looking up, saw two men enter the grav deck, followed by a small coterie led by an attractive woman. He didn't know them on sight, but assumed they were, like him, vastly in the dark concerning their current circumstances. Nicholai and Trisha tensed imperceptibly at their entrance, but relaxed somewhat when no overt threat materialized, coming to the same conclusion. As usual, Reinhardt didn't even seem to notice...although Travis knew he missed nothing.

Travis stood, glass in one hand, and walked to the new arrivals.

"Greetings." Travis put on his best smile, wondering if maybe these folks knew something more than he did. Reinhardt might, but the day that man gave up information was the day he became ilKhan!

[Fatebringer]

Oksana dropped looked the drinking man over and gave him a flirtatious look raising an eyebrow as she dropped the stylish black sequined goggles over her eyes. The eyewear matched a chic black space suit that was obviously designed for comfort wear in the worst of conditions, and her black hair that rose up on a quaff over her large forhead. "Good Evening." She sat down and casually looked around before lighting a long stemmed cigarette. "Do you mind? They never let me smoke in flight."

[Daemonknight]

"Not at all, I myself am constantly told these are bad for my health." Travis produced a thick, brown wrapped cigar, and sat down to light it, though he was curteous enough to sit a bit away from the woman, to avoid blowing the fragrant smoke in her direction. He used a cigar punch made of silver, lined with electrum, its color shifting properties causing it to give of a bluish green sheen as it moved. He used a matching butane lighter, and puffed a few times to get the cigar burning properly, amusing himself by blowing small smoke rings into the air.

He smiled at the woman as he took a sip from his glass.
"May I offer you a drink my dear? They've quite the selection set out for us." At this word, Nicholai poured himself a drink, and looked over to the woman, awaiting her response.

[Fatebringer]

"Don't mind if I do. Vodka, on the rocks please." She crossed her legs and leaned back as he poured a drink. "I can't help but to say good evening when I'm on one of these rides. In space, it always seems like it's night." She took the drink from the stranger. Eyeing the drink and swirling it around the glass before she drank she though. "Poison can be a slow killer, or a fast one." Either way, she had made plans to secure the cargo should she die. She pulled the straw out and downed the potent drink. "Not bad."

[Holt]

[Placeholder for the DC dude, when i have a second.]

[Dave Baughman]

As the guests enjoyed their cocktails in the lounge, the loudspeaker announced: "All hands, prepare for jump stations."

A stewardess dressed in an expensive and mildly indecent outfit bowed demurely to the group, "Ladies and Gentlemen, we will be making the jump to hyperspace in five minutes. If you will follow me I will escort you to the VIP cabins"

(OOC: Holt, I know you are busy so you may assume your guy made it to the JumpShip on time and just join in once you have the time to get involved)

(OOC²: Everyone who is here please PM me and Josh a roll of 2d6 - perception check)

[Daemonknight]

Travis drained the last of his tequila, and tried his best to conceal his eying of the stewardess. Hm mm...Canopian perhaps?, he thought. He had visited a few of their pleasure worlds in his youth, before the Clans had arrived. He did his best to not be obvious in his appraisal of the stewardess' figure: thin waist, chesty, athletic(probably a runner)... Her outfit was just as pleasing as her figure: a low cut tunic revealed enough to make most men salivate, and her short skirt made no attempt to hide her long legs. Her choker was a finely tooled leather, the surface gleaming, presumably having been polished. Something was odd about it however...

He felt a presence at his side, and nearly jumped when he noticed Reinhardt was directly alongside him.
"She is quite beautiful, isn't she sir?" Reinhardt had his usual knowing smile; that is to say, there was a millimeter difference in height between the left and right edges of his lips. He tilted his head towards Travis however, his voice barely audible above the low hum that was always present on the gravity decks. "Did you notice the collar, that slight shine to it?"

Travis calmed himself, and looked again at her collar.
"What about it? Its polished, so what? Its not really my thing, bu-"

"Its not polish. Its not leather- that shine is the reflection from micro-circuitry." He quieted, seemingly unwilling to say more when he was within earshot of the others. Travis frowned slightly, however he remained silent as the stewardess opened a hatch, and waved them into a well-appointed stateroom.

"These will be your quarters during your stay. Please be sure to secure yourself for the jump." The woman smiled, not warmly, but not unpleasant either. Reinhardt smiled and thanked her as Trisha and Nicholai followed Travis into the room. After entering however, Reinhardt looked around the room suspiciously. When Travis tried to say something, Nicholai held a finger to his mouth, indicating silence. Opening Travis' case, he produced a sonic disruptor: standard for any businessman traveling on a transport vessel not owned personally.

After Nicholai had setup the small device, and dialed it in to the room's size, everyone secured themselves in their chairs, and Reinhardt looked hard at Travis.

"Alright Mr. Olivetti. I've seen devices like that before. Did you notice how it was cinched tightly against her skin? Not actually choking her, but making contact around her neck, not allowing any gaps?" Travis nodded, not certin if Reinhardt was implying what he thought he was.

"I can't be sure its exact function, but without an attached transceiver, it can't be accessed from an external source. The only logical conclusion is that it's some type of behavioral controller. Like a dog collar: the wearer attempts to do something the Collar's designed to stop, and either the person gets a shock, or simply can't perform the action. I can't actually be sure which it is without having a tech guy study it, but that would be my professional opinion." Nicholai and Trisha both seemed deeply upset about the idea of such technology even existing. Travis himself was scowling at the spy.

"So Reinhardt, what does that mean? Does whoever is running this show have something for sale that's so bad, he can't trust his own people? The fact that she was dressed that way, added to that device... Makes me question exactly who we are dealing with. I feel like I've heard of that technology before... I just can't place it." Travis shook his head in frustration. He hoped that the device wasn't some foreboding sign of the seriousness of their situation.

Reinhardt shrugged. "I don't know. Theres always rumors that someone has perfected that stuff. Mind control collars, a mech's nuerohelmet designed to brainwash the pilot... Theres always some new techno horror story. I didn't think the stuff actually existed, but if it does... Could be interesting to get our hands on it. Hmmm..." The group lapsed into an uneasy silence.

Trisha and Nicholai talked quietly between themselves, positioned close to, but not directly infront of, the door; clear firing lanes, ever the vigilant soldiers. They discussed the possibilities of subduing someone who wore such a collar, if it became an objective(although they seemed highly disgusted with the idea of a collar being able to control, or influence one's actions).

Travis seemed to be attempting to remember where he had heard of, or seen, such technology before.

Reinhardt seemed unconcerned, and allowed himself to fall to sleep... However, Travis didn't actually believe the man was sleeping. Simply saving energy that might be required later.

[Dave Baughman]

"All hands, jump stations. Jump in T-minus five minutes."


Forty-five minutes later

Polar Dancer's grav deck conference room was clean and well-appointed, and the various parties who had answered her master's call settled into comfortable leather seats. After a brief wait, during which attendants circulated with plates of hors d'oeuvres, a man in a conservative business suit entered the room; while prominent, his piercing blue eyes and golden hair were not his most memorable feature - it was the "Radstadt Academy" scar on his face.

"Ladies and gentlemen," the man said crisply, "you have all come here because I have something expensive to sell - something I believe all of you will be interested in."

With the press of a button, the man brought up a holograph of a pair of JumpShips, each carrying a mix of Mammoth- and Behemoth-class cargo transports.

"During the recent upheaval in the Lyran Commonwealth, associates of mine came into posession of these vessels. They are transporting military factories, recently removed from the Clan front, that were bound for Tharkad. Due to an unfortunate... accident... that prevented their delivery, they are now available to all of you."

"Bidding will start at 1.75 billion C-Bills, for the entire package including the JumpShips."

(OOC: You are bidding for the following:

Pandora Voyager, Star Lord class, Mobile, 6x DT
Defiance Express 5, Star Lord class, Mobile, 6x DT
3x Military Factories, Transported)

For the purposes of bidding, 1 RP = 170 million C-Bills

[Daemonknight]

Travis spoke before the others, knowing this acquisiton could be monumentally important to Olivetti.

"2 Billion C-bills"