EPISODE TWO - REDHAVEN

(Picture courtesy of Jeff Zeitlin, freelancetraveller.com)

AZRIEL KAIN GAME STATISTICS

PATHS: Firebrand/Shade/Fugitive

EDGE: 3 HEART 3 IRON 2 SHADOW 4 WITS 2

(Character stats per the "Challenging" stat array in Ironsworn: Lodestar)

GEAR: Silenced Pistol, Survival Knife

APPEARANCE: Short red hair and goatee, blue jumpsuit, black hooded cloak

The Diary of Kain - Chapter Two

I had decided what I needed to do, but I wasn't kidding myself.  It was going to take a lot of work and a long time to expose the Institute and bring it to its knees.  Father used to ask: "How do you eat a Sicklehorn?"  One bite at a time, Father... one bite at a time.

I didn't really know where to begin.  I had no idea where to go.  And then, I realized - if I didn't have any idea where I was going, the Institute wouldn't know, either.  Going literally anywhere would be safer than just sitting here doing nothing.  I didn't really know much about the Shrouded Pass - but I couldn't go to Boreas.  A fugitive, jumping into the system where the Keepers headquarters was located, in a stolen ship?  It wouldn't even matter that I'd been a captive against my will.  The Institute would surely cover it up somehow, and I'd wind up back in another locked room for the rest of my life.  That didn't leave me many options. The only other planet that I knew of was Arrakoth.  No, I wasn't going to hide in the barren desert, but there was Redhaven.   So, I Set a Course.

[Roll +Supply: 2+5 vs. a 6 and a 10.  Weak Hit.  Face a complication at the destination.]

I had dozed off in the pilot's chair when the arrival warning sounded.  I had arrived in the Arrakoth system.  I disengaged the E-drive and emerged into deep space near the Redhaven station.  It was massive - built out of the hull of some ancient super-hauler - and even bigger than I had expected.  Moments later, I received a transmission:

"Redhaven traffic control to unidentified vessel - you have entered a shipping lane without proper clearance.  Please transmit your credentials, over?"

I was worried they might challenge me, but it was even worse that I was basically "trespassing" in the traffic pattern that was reserved for freighters, haulers and mining vessels.  I had to think fast.

"Umm... Redhaven control, this is the independent explorer Venture. I'm experiencing some issues with my electronics.  This wasn't my intended destination, but I came here hoping to get repairs.  Think you can help me with that, over?"

[Compel: Roll +Shadow:  2+4 vs. a 3 and a 7.  Weak hit]

"Understood... Venture?  Wait one. Out."

I sat there nervously, wondering if they had identified the ship and planned to tip off the Institute or bounty hunters or something.  It felt too warm in the cockpit.  I was literally sweating this out.  After a few minutes, I was hailed again.

"Redhaven control to Venture... we, ah, may be able to assist you with your... 'electronics issues', but as you're not an RMC vessel, you understand that these repairs could be... costly, over?"

I could Catch the Drift.  They knew I wasn't being completely honest with them, and it wasn't exactly the best cover story.  Maybe if I hadn't jumped straight into a shipping lane, they might have turned a blind eye.  But they had me over a barrel.  

"Ah, roger that, Redhaven control.  Glad to cover the cost, naturally.  I have some stuff on board - after I dock, maybe send someone down and see if anything might help to get the job done, over?"

[Sacrifice Resources: -1 Supply. Now at +4]

"Roger that, Venture.  Now get your ass out of that shipping lane, follow this approach vector and dock in Bay Nine.  Welcome to Redhaven.  Out."

The dock's automated systems brought me in and initiated the landing procedure.  I hurried back to the fresher.  I splashed some cool water on my face and toweled dry, but something in the mirror caught my eye... the Institute patch on the sleeve of the jumpsuit.  I carefully pulled it off the sleeve, as well as the "IISS Institute" tape on the left breast.  Then I tossed the patches into the recycler.  I'd have to remember to take care of the rest later.

Then ship touched down with a thump and I heard the hiss of a pressurizing docking collar, so I headed back to the airlock to greet the 'maintenance crew'.  Two guys were standing in the docking tube.

"Welcome to Redhaven, Sor... Kholsa?" the shorter one said, glancing at the name on the jumpsuit.  He had a three-day old beard and unkempt hair, and he was chomping on the stub of an unlit cigar.  He smelled faintly of tobacco smoke and the kind of moonshine you'd make through an engine manifold.  I guess that name worked as well as any.  "Please, come aboard," I said, stepping aside.

He came aboard warily, noticing the pistol on my hip.  He looked around, but I noticed his hand fell casually to the butt of his own sidearm.  His companion followed - a very tall, slender fellow with pale skin - clearly someone who had lived his entire life in deep space.  He was the quiet type, saying nothing but nodding politely as he came aboard, a small hand truck in tow.

"Nice ship you got here, Sor Kholsa," the shorter fellow said. "Looks like there was some fire damage back here.  Does this have anything to do with the, ah... 'electrical issues' you were mentioning?"

I realized he was talking about the scorch marks on the walls of the Engineering section in which we stood.  "Ah, actually, yeah," I replied, trying to sound casual.  "I bought this thing second-hand, you know how there's always some 'hidden problem' they don't mention when they take your money."

"I get your drift, Sor," he said with a wink.  "If you happen to know of any other problems, maybe we can make some arrangements to get those fixed, as well.  Let's see what we've got to work with."

They both looked around the bay with somewhat dissatisfied expressions.  The short one grunted and turned to me.  "Not sure what we've got to work with here, Sor," he complained.  "Well," I replied, "you can understand, I'm not a trader or a cargo hauler.  If I were, there wouldn't have been that issue with the unauthorized approach, right?"

He was taken aback for a moment, but his frown turned into a grin.  He gestured to his companion and they wandered around, examining the markings on the crates.  The tall fellow picked up one of the crates and placed it on the hand truck.  I noticed from the markings that it was luxury foodstuffs for the galley.  Damn.  I wondered if I was going to be stuck eating the same lousy crap that they used to feed me when I was in captivity.  "Not exactly spare parts," Shorty apologized.  "But, you know, my team's gotta eat, right?"

"Of course," I relented.  They did find a couple actual crates of parts as well.  I wasn't sure if they had anything to do with avionics or comm systems, but we both knew that didn't really matter anyhow.

"That ought to be good," he finally said, motioning to his partner.  The Belter rolled the cart out of the bay and aft to the airlock.  Then Shorty took out his handcomp and swiped something to me.  "Come see me about the... 'repairs'... later today.  We can discuss what else you might need us to take care of before you leave."

"You've got it, good Sor," I replied warmly.  "Thank you for all of your... assistance today.  It's a pleasure doing business with you."  Shorty smiled and nodded.  "Likewise," he said, "Until then!"  He stepped through the airlock and the hatch swung shut.  I locked it and went to my cabin.  I needed sleep badly.

I fell onto the bunk, fully clothed.  Wow, these are really comfortable, I thought to myself, and then I was asleep.  For the first time in I don't know how long, I didn't have the nightmares.

* * *

I awoke feeling well-rested.  I had forgotten what it was like to sleep on something that wasn't a prison bunk.  I stripped out of my coverall and got in the shower.  It wasn't even a sonic cleaner - it was real water.  This was luxury.

After a good, cold, soapy shower, I felt refreshed.  The chrono showed that it was early evening station time, so I got dressed, strapped on my gun belt, and headed off to meet my cheerful, albeit somewhat shady benefactor.

My handcomp showed me the route to the rendezvous, but it wasn't the most direct path.  The entire station seemed rather rough-and-tumble, as I would expect from a mining facility.  It didn't appear that I was being followed, but I stayed alert and kept to the shadows.

[Face Danger: Action die at 5 for Shade, + Shadow.  5+4 vs. 2 and 5 = Strong Hit.  1 Momentum (+3)]

I arrived at Shorty's cabin without incident and rang the door panel.  The small video screen lit up but the image was blocked by a privacy filter.  A moment later, the door clicked open.  Shorty peeked his head out, a cigar stub still clenched in his teeth, and glanced up and down the corridor before inviting me in.  He tucked his pistol back into its holster and extended a calloused hand.  "Welcome to my humble little slice of Paradise.  You can call me [15] Breaker.  And you are?"

He knew that I wasn't "Sor Kholsa", and even if neither of us knew what the "IISS" was (it was always just "The Institute" to me), it was painted on the hull in fairly big letters.  I wasn't sure what to say.  I'm the guy who sometimes sets things on fire and I'm out to unleash Hell?  "Well, Breaker, you can call me Hellion," I said as I took his hand, "and it's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

[Make a Connection, automatic Strong Hit: Breaker (Spacer), Dangerous]

"Likewise," he said warmly, gesturing toward a seating area.  "Please, have a seat.  Would you like a beer or something?"  I sat down on the couch, likely salvaged from a wreck, and looked around.  "Sure," I said absently.  I took in my surroundings.  There was a computer desk in one corner, with a couple of handcomp and pads upon the display surface.  A pile of random electronic parts was stacked in another corner, and the wall opposite from me had a doorway, likely to his sleeping quarters.  A small dining table with a single chair was on the other side of the room, atop which was the box of food he had taken from the ship.  Oh well, call it the cost of doing business.  He returned and handed me a cold can, and took a seat across from me.  "To new ventures" he said, raising his can in an casual toast.  "Of course" I agreed, doing likewise.  I had not missed his choice of words.

I took a sip of the cold beer and almost choked.  I was used to something made of malted barley or wheat, and this tasted like... mushrooms.  Of course, you idiot.  They don't exactly have amber waves of grain on a deep-space outpost.  If my host noticed, he paid it no mind.  But it was nice and cold, so I continued to drink. He turned the Speedball game up louder and turned to me.  "So, Hellion, I get the impression that you're going to need more than just a replacement of that... 'malfunctioning' transponder module, am I correct?  Are there any other repairs you'll be needing while you're staying in Redhaven?"

There clearly was no longer a need to be coy.  Plausible deniability was important to a dockworker who needs to keep his side hustle on the down-low - but I had no doubt that he knew the score.  "Well, naturally the 'malfunctioning' transponder is the most important repair, but I have no way of knowing what other systems might have been... compromised.  And the hull could certainly use a new coat of paint."

Breaker grinned "Of course, my friend, of course.  Never can tell what other systems might have been affected.  And out here in the Belt, you can get a lot of pitting on the hull.  And I couldn't help but notice that certain compartments inside could do with a fresh coat as well."

"Oh, that isn't necessary," I stammered, "it's just cosmetic, I hardly even..."  Then I realized, he wasn't just talking about the scorch marks on the walls in Engineering.  There were all kinds of markings everywhere - on the walls of the passageways, on the bulkheads, and who knows where else I might have casually overlooked.  "On second thought, yeah.  You know those 'previously owned' ships, there's always a lot of 'high traffic' areas that could use a bit of paint."

"You've got it, Hellion.  I'll make sure your ship is fit for inspection," he said with another wink, raising his beer once more.  Once again, I was able to Catch the Drift.  Then he paused. "So, just to be clear, the equipment we picked up earlier was just to offset any... fines that might have been incurred for that unauthorized approach in the shipping lanes.  As my partner and I will be doing this work in our own time, off the clock as it were, we'll have to make a separate arrangement to settle that cost."

I felt like he was taking advantage of me, milking me for everything he could.  But on the other hand, he was being pretty honest with me.  Surely there was some risk to the illegal modifications he was about to make to the ship.  When he was done, it wouldn't be Venture any more, and anyone who came aboard would see no sign that it had ever been Institute property at all.  "Absolutely, Breaker.  It's in our mutual best interests to make sure you and your partner are compensated fairly for your time and effort."

"Glad we can come to an agreement, Sor," he said, shaking my hand once more.  "So tomorrow evening, we will get to work on the... what did you say your ship was called again?"

This was the first part of my path of revenge.  In ancient myths, there was a river in the underworld, the River of Pain... "The Acheron," I replied.  I had to spell it for him.  He clearly had no idea what it meant.

He tucked his handcomp in a thigh and said "Great!  We'll get started after my shift tomorrow.  Now, my friend... here's what I need you to do for me..."

[Ending Stats: Momentum +3 Health +5 Spirit +5     Supply +4]