It's a Hostile galaxy out there...

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Showing posts with label hostile. Show all posts
Showing posts with label hostile. Show all posts

SUPPORTING CAST - Meet Colby and Hall


CAPTAIN Solomon Hall, II            A9CA68        Survey Scout

Survival-2    Investigate-2    Leader-1    Pilot-1    Vacc Suit-1    Ground Vehicle-1

Sex: Male Age: 48    Height: 184 cm Weight: 112 kg

Hometown: Duluth, Minnesota, Earth Ethnicity:  Scandinavian

Education: School of Hard Knocks

Languages: English

Psych Profile:  Grim and quiet. Lets his actions speak for themselves

Appearance: Large frame, weathered features.  Bearded, always clad in survival outerwear.

Notes:  Captain of the Castle Bravo-class scout "Solomon's Spirit", GSV-180817. 


SECOND LIEUTENANT Jacob Colby, USMC            877A9B        Marine

Gun Combat-2    Recon-2    Brawling-2    Tactics-1    Leader-1

Sex: Male Age: 26    Height: 175 cm Weight: 80 kg

Hometown: Twenty-Nine Palms, California, USA, Earth

Ethnicity:  British        Languages: English

Education: United States Naval Academy, Annapolis, USA, Earth

Psych Profile:  Optimistic and determined

Appearance: Clean-cut, well-groomed. Military bearing. Tattoo on left upper arm: "22 MEU: Anytime, Anywhere"

Notes:  Son of Jack Colby, Captain USMC 24 MEU (KIA 11/07/21 FOB Donshu, Tau Ceti)





VOYAGES OF THE DAWN TREADER - Mission Six - Asphodel


SHIP'S LOG:
USCS FREE ENTERPRISE TSV-101701

ENTRY SIX: EARTH DATE 14 JULY 2225

REPORTING: RORY BUCHANAN, CAPTAIN

Telluride may be the worst place to spend a long weekend. We endured 36 hours of unbearable heat, followed by 36 hours of an Antarctic cold. We had to stay within the hab complex, which was crowded and smelled of unwashed humans living in close quarters. I longed to be back at Hamilton, where I could get a real shower and breathe fresh air.

We are being sent straight from Mu Ceti to the Iota Piscinum system, better known as "Limbo" to spacers. The system, if it could be called that, is essentially a giant asteroid belt. There isn't even a gas giant - fuel must be gathered by mining icy asteroids.  Erebus Petrochem has tasked us to salvage essential components from a newly-decommissioned mining platform. 

I have briefed the crew, and Engineer Knight is particularly eager to fill our hold with salvage. Our last salvage run paid out only on recovered components - in addition to the death of Luther Nelson, we didn't make much money, either.  This time, I negotiated a standard bonus plus incentives for recovered components. The hidden benefit of this was, if we found something we decided to keep for ourselves, it wouldn't count against that payout.

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

SUBMITTED: 17 SEPT 2225

Once our negotiations and briefing were completed, we began pre-flight preparations for liftoff. The ground crew on Telluride were reluctant to refuel us, considering the amount of unrefined fuel they were providing was actually more than the tonnage of pure water we had brought to them. Evans and Garvey went ashore to help with the loading - and by that, I mean that they physically intimidated the ground crew into compliance by threats of bodily harm.

Once we were fueled, it would still be a day on the pad while the onboard processors filtered out all of the ammonia and methane and other contaminants from the gas giant fuel. While we waited, a mysterious ship landed at the port. Its configuration was unfamiliar, but Aman speculated that it might be some kind of executive fast-response ship. The passengers that went ashore were nondescript but clearly covert. Port Security allowed no one near the vessel. I couldn't shake the feeling that the ship was, in some way, related to our mission.

We were 90 Mkm from the hyperspace point, and the trip would take 56 hours. We took off without further incident, and Lewis and Chun kept us on a steady course. On route to the hyperspace point, we encountered a cargo carrier. Aldel tried to hail it, but we were met with radio silence, and the other vessel altered its course to keep their distance. It was likely that they were afraid of more pirates like the ones we had encountered on our way here.

At midnight on July 16th, we prepared for a long hypersleep. Limbo is 19 parsecs from Telluride, and the trip would take over 33 days. I could only imagine what it might be like for Desh, left alone for nearly five weeks with only the quiet ship and his electrical thoughts to keep him company. By the time we awake, I will have spent 148 out of the 231 days this year asleep. Two-thirds of 2225 in a semi-dreaming slumber. When we woke from our chilly repose, most of us had endured it well - except Leah Knight, who felt a little nauseous. "Nothing a bottle of Glycolyte won't fix," she said queasily as she choked down the sports drink that Desh offered her.

Aldel obtained a fix on our position, and Chun announced that we were 300 Mkm from the mining station, called Asphodel by the Company.  Sitting in the outer system, the station was seven and a half days away at full burn.  She laid in a course, and Lewis ignited the engines. About 30 hours into our flight, we received a distress call from a nearby ship. The petroleum carrier Lone Star was being hijacked by passengers it had recently taken aboard. 

(Reaction: 7, failed. Result: 7 - Lewis, 4, Stubborn)

Lewis protested my decision to respond, noting that if we diverted, we would be at bingo fuel by the time the mission was complete, and that there was no gas giant or ocean here with which we could refuel.  "Couldn't we get some fuel from the petro carrier?" Aldel asked innocently.  She was met with withering stares from Knight and Garvey, and an eyeroll from Lewis, who informed her that petroleum could not be distilled into a suitable fuel source for a starship's maneuver drives.

Any dissent was quickly silenced when I pointed out that ICO regulations stipulated the forfeiture of our bonus shares if we failed to respond to the signal. Lewis adjusted the burn to intercept the tanker. We matched course with the vessel on the afternoon of the following day. The Lone Star was not compliant with our attempts to dock, but Lewis expertly piloted the Enterprise to mate with the Lone Star's primary airlock. Donning our vacc suits, Garvey, Evans and I went aboard, armed with our shotguns.

(Scene Challenge: Solid, Dangerous. 8+. +DM's for weapons, training, and familiarity. Roll 8, success!)

We were met with armed resistance by a number of wild-eyed individuals in dirty blue jumpsuits.  There was something... unnatural about them. They were unwilling to negotiate, demanding to be taken to a system outside of the influence of Erebus.  They fought back zealously, but we knew this kind of ship well, having previously been aboard the Excelsior some months ago. In the end, they were defeated. Garvey was able to repair the systems that the hijackers had damaged.

During the firefight, the two ships had become separated. The Lone Star had been rolling erratically and Lewis had been forced to decouple our ship. The three of us had to make a short unassisted EVA to return to Enterprise.

It would take seven more days for us to travel to Asphodel Station. Thankfully, the week passed uneventfully, with each of the crew going about our daily tasks and spending our off-duty hours as shipmates do.  We arrived at the station on the evening of the 27th. 

Asphodel was built in a classic design - two concentric toroidal rings joined to a central spine by four spokes. It looked as if it might have been out of a picture book from mid-20th Century Earth pulp comics. If it held true to form, the control deck would be at the top of the spine, and the engineering deck at the bottom.  We would surely need to explore both.

The station did not respond to our hails and there was no docking beacon for Lewis to follow. For all of his shortcomings personality-wise, he made up for it in skill, docking our ship to the station's lower airlock. Chun stayed aboard, ready to get the ship moving in case something dangerous happened. The rest of us made ready to board the station. 

The station's airlock was malfunctioning, but Knight easily overrode the security lockout and the lock hissed open.  The air inside the station was stuffy and warm, and the corridors were dimly lit with red emergency lighting.  

The plan was to explore the entire facility, identifying the requested components and their condition and estimating the amount of time we would need to salvage it all.  The signs in the corridor showed us we were on Deck Four.  We followed the right-hand corridor, which curved into a dim, cavernous chamber. The sounds of our boots echoed in the open space, whose walls we could not see with our helmet lights. There was a slow but loud dripping sound in the darkness.  Garvey sniffed at the air and simply said "Smells like coolant."


We headed toward a corridor to the left, barely visible by its row of lights.  The spoke led us to a chamber in the inner ring. There was a fine, gritty dust covering the deck and every surface. A huge furnace stood cold. Large machinery with pistons and burrs fed onto a conveyor belt that led back in the direction we had come. Ore must have been processed here, and stored in the vast chamber we had just left.

We continued forward into the spine, where we found a pair of lifts.  They were not responding, likely because the main power was out. Continuing along the opposite spoke, we once more entered the inner ring. This area had a number of desks and a map table.  The walls were hung with paper maps of the asteroid belt, and we found MRA handbooks on some of the desks. Catalog of Off-World Resources MRA-3421-8-2221-P and Guide to Interstellar Resource Extraction Regulations MRA-3411-6-2211-F  seemed like the perfect reading for sleepless nights, so I tucked them into my satchel.


We continued along the spoke to the outer ring. We entered another ore storage bay, but we were not alone. Mining drones turned toward us, equipped with rock saws, grinders, jackhammers and short-range mining lasers. While a robot of this sort would not be programmed or used with hostile intent, it was clear that they meant us harm. We took cover behind piles of tailings and opened fire. "Keep them at range!" I shouted.

(Scene Challenge: Shaky, Dangerous, 10+. +DM for Engineering and weaponry. Failure. Minor Injury)

We damaged some of the drones, but one managed to flank Evans and strike him with a rock hammer. Evans was knocked down, but we blasted the drone before it could do further harm. "Fall back!" I shouted.  Evans stumbled to his feet and we hurried back the way we had come. 

We tried to erect a barricade to hinder pursuit, in case the drones decided to follow us.  We pushed desks and cabinets against the doorway, but it would only be a temporary barrier against the well-equipped drones.  Desh checked Evans over and treated his minor injuries, then we hurried back to the spine and headed down the right-hand spoke.

We found ourselves in a stairwell, which headed up to the next deck and down to Engineering, which was our next destination. Moving into the outer ring on Deck Five, we found a tankage area about the size of the cooling tanks for our ship's reactor. Lewis estimated that it would contain 30 tons of fuel if full, and if we siphoned whatever was left in it, we might have enough extra fuel for an additional burn if anything unexpected happened.

Heading counter-clockwise around the outer ring, we found ourselves in a pump room. These pumps must have been used to pump coolant from the tanks into the station's reactor, but since the pumps had failed, main power had been lost. Knight and Garvey estimated that it would be a 3-hour job to repair or remove them.

Pushing ahead in the same direction, we found a parts storage area, which should contain anything we needed for repair or salvage jobs. We proceeded back to the inner ring, and found ourselves amid the life support machinery. We could hear the soft whisper of circulating air and the huffing sound of heating units. Counter-clockwise along the inner ring was the life support control room. Knight studied the panel and informed me that all systems were operating within normal parameters. Atmosphere and heat were still providing a habitable environment within the station, but gravity was out on the upper decks. She advised me it would take about four hours to restore.

We headed back to the outer ring. A large workshop was here, naturally adjacent to the parts storage compartment. A variety of machinery could be found here, from fabricators to machining equipment. Most notably, a workloader stood in its charging cradle, like a massive, skeletal human with pincers for hands. Evans and Garvey insisted we come back for it, as we did not yet have one aboard Enterprise.

We returned to the stairwell and headed up two levels. On Level Three, we found the Hangar Deck. Moving to the outer ring, we found another parts storage area - this one for parts for small craft, rather than the station itself. Proceeding clockwise brought us to Hangar One. A Nomad-class ship's boat sat on the deck. Lewis headed over to check it out. Apparently, it looked to be in operational condition. Regrettably, there was no way to take it aboard, so we would have to salvage what we could. Continuing in a clockwise direction, we came to the main airlock. Back into the inner ring, we found the equipment room. Mining suits and equipment sat in lockers along the walls, ready for miners to suit up for EVA work. This gear would be easy to bring aboard.

Returning to the stairwell, we ascended to Deck Two. The stairwell did not continue upward. We headed to the outer ring, where we found crew staterooms. Cautiously searching them, we found them to be uninhabited and abandoned. It appeared that the occupants had departed or abandoned the station. We continued clockwise to an area that might have been intended as a lounge, but was now being used as a garden. Plants grew in soil beds and hydroponic trays and airponics bays.

We were not alone. A number of individuals clad in blue mining jumpsuits turned toward us as we entered.  They looked haggard and wild-eyed. I raised my hands and spoke quietly. "We are representatives of the Company on official business," I began, but the miner closest to me screamed and swung a shovel at me.

(Scene challenge: Shaky, Dangerous, 10+. +DM for Leadership, Liaison and weaponry. Failure. Minor Injury)

These miners fought like zealots. They would not listen to reason, they would not relent, and their only utterances were screams and grunts. There was something... unnatural about them. Crazed. Garvey was struck by a miner with a pitchfork, slashing a series of gashes along his arm. Our choices were to gun them down, or retreat. We fell back once again.

We found ourselves in a laundry area.  The machines were inoperative and heavy, but we barricaded the door as best as we could while Desh treated Garvey's wounds. Stacks of uniforms sat upon shelves - the same jumpsuits worn by the hijackers aboard the Lone Star. We could hear the banging against the door and I knew that we had to move quickly. I led my crew toward the elevator shaft.

In addition to the main lifts, there was a smaller, secondary personnel lift. We checked to see if it still had power (Natural 12), and discovered that it was independently powered and controlled by a separate keypad.  Knight pulled the panel open and poked around inside. A moment later, an elevator car arrived at our deck and the door hissed open. We piled inside and hit the button for the control deck.

Moving into the inner ring, we entered the avionics bay. Here is where the station's communications and sensor equipment was housed. Aldel estimated the salvage job would take four hours here.

Heading clockwise along the inner ring, we came to the Medbay. The autodoc was not working, but Desh proclaimed that it could be repaired and salvaged in about six hours. Moving toward the outer ring, we found ourselves in a conference room. Folders of paperwork lay on the conference table. Examining them, I found a number of references to some sort of work program or project that the station crew had been engaged in, but understanding eluded me as any relevant information was referenced to files stored on the main computer. I handed them to Desh for further study.

We proceeded clockwise to the Station Manager's office. It was locked, but Knight easily gained entry. Files on the manager's desk also referred to the ongoing project, but as before, specifics were kept in computer files. The terminal on the manager's desk, as the rest of the station, stood silent and dark.

Continuing around the ring, we found ourselves in an executive lounge. A thin film of dust covered all surfaces, but it was clearly opulent. Lewis headed toward the bar and examined the bottles. He found a few containing some very rare and expensive liquor, and tucked them into his satchel. Garvey found a box of Cuban cigars. From Cuba. On Earth. It would be cheaper to smoke a roll of $100 bills than one of those cigars. He put them in his bag, knowing that they would fetch a nice price somewhere. We didn't have much time, so we'd need to come back for a more thorough examination later. There were more pressing concerns at the moment.

Heading back into the inner ring, we entered the Operations Center. This was the "bridge" of the station. The computer terminals were out. Comms were operational, but attempts to raise Enterprise had no response. Aldel checked the sensor arrays. External sensors showed that the Lone Star had left the system. Internal security sensors showed that the only life signs (aside from ourselves) were on Deck Two.

Moving counter-clockwise, we entered the computer center. The core was dark, and only the emergency systems were in operation. Aldel speculated that it would take about seven hours to repair and/or remove it, but the parts she would need were down on Deck Five. Evans volunteered to go down and retrieve the parts, but we were worried that he would be pursued by the crazed miners.

(Scene challenge: Solid, Dangerous, 8+. +DM for Engineers and weaponry. Success! Complication)

Knight and Garvey would disable the main lift shafts, so that they would remain inoperable when main power was restored. While Evans headed down, my engineers would weld the doors on Deck Two to prevent the miners from accessing the transit core to the other levels. While Knight and Garvey operated the welding torches and I covered them, Evans hurried down the stairs as quickly as he could, shotgun in one hand and toolkit in the other. He stumbled, perhaps due to his earlier injury, and dropped the toolkit over the railing. It bounced down the stairwell, landing with a crash on the lowest deck. This would complicate our ability to repair the core, but it was not an insurmountable obstacle.

Evans called on the radio and announced that he could not find the parts Aldel needed. She huffed and trudged down the stairs to assist him.  They returned, arms and satchels full of circuit boards and drives and other components unrecognizable to me.

While they worked, we examined the control deck more thoroughly. Lewis headed back to the lounge, while Desh worked on the autodoc and perused the medical records. Below us, we could hear the booming of the miners pounding helplessly against the pressure doors. Tense hours passed.

When the computer core was repaired and main power was restored, Aldel and Desh made a chilling discovery. They found the files referenced in the documents. It was a medical program, using radical drugs and retrogenic therapy to increase productivity and worker survivability. The miners would work harder and better endure the harsh conditions... but the unexpected side effect was cognitive deterioration and madness. These people were not like the proles on Congress - they were regular human beings, used by the Company as lab rats. I began to understand the attempted takeover of the Lone Star. They had picked up some of the crew, whose symptoms began to manifest on the outbound flight. The remaining miners had stayed aboard, seeking refuge in the most habitable area - their little farm and likely the other staterooms we had not explored.

Killing these poor souls was unconscionable - but neither could we allow them complete access to the station, or a means to escape or contact others. We would have to leave in place and repair those systems that would keep Deck Two habitable, regardless of the Company's desire to completely gut the station.

With the full layout of the station now available for display, it would be easier to make those assessments. Aldel disabled the comm system and set up a warning beacon, identifying the area as a navigational hazard. Knight worked with Evans to access the program controlling the mining drones and overriding their corrupted protocols. Lewis disabled the two small craft aboard the station, removing the most essential (and valuable) components and rendering them non-spaceworthy.

Desh came up with a way to reduce the threat the miners might pose while we worked. With some modifications to the life support equipment, oxygen levels were lowered on Deck Two to a level similar to a thin planetary atmosphere. It was breathable and they would not suffocate, but even for hardy modified specimens such as them, the exertion of combat would be impossible. The anesthesia equipment from the medbay was patched into the life support system as well, as a precaution against an unexpected attack. The miners would live out the rest of their days confined to Deck Two, a danger to no one else.

We spent the next 36 hours salvaging everything we could from the other four decks. We decided that we would keep the mining EVA suits, the workloader, and one of the Dynacat ATVs. We would not be recovering the life support equipment, hydroponics farm, medical equipment or comms transmitter. The work was finally completed in the early morning of the 28th, and we were all exhausted.

Chun had kept an eye on the orbits of the hyperspace points. The closest was 70 Mkm away, and would take us 42 hours to reach. From there, it would take us nearly 16 days to reach Hamilton in hyperspace. Fortunately, our travel through Iota Piscinum was uneventful, and in the late afternoon of September 14th, we awoke in the Ross 248 system.

Hamilton was 90 Mkm away, but Chun had an idea (Natural 12). Since we had a little extra fuel from the station, she suggested a more direct burn that would intercept Hamilton's orbit 10 Mkm closer than a normal Hohmann transfer orbit. We would have just enough fuel to make it, and arrive 6 hours sooner. Lewis was all for it, and seemed to relish the extra burn.

It would still be two days to Hamilton, and to keep the crew occupied, I decided that we would revisit the anti-hijacking training we had previously studied. We had come to learn how much we had already relied upon it, but it was clear that we needed some serious improvement in our skills. I also made note of some equipment we would want to procure - stunners, body armor, a motion tracker, security equipment, sedative gas and maybe even a net gun, if we could find one.

We arrived and docked at Hamilton without incident. A corporate ship arrived while we were unloading, and I was approached by some Company individuals who might have been executives. Or security. Or both. They seemed to be looking for someone or something. They asked me if we had encountered anyone during our time in Limbo. I knew that mentioning the crazed miners would place us in as much danger as them, so I neglected to mention our encounters.

The Logistics team evaluated our cargo, checking each component off their list as it was unloaded. In their final evaluation, the returned components were only sufficient to merit half of our agreed bonus and salvage pay, so we were each awarded $6,893 in addition to our normal mission pay.

The following morning, I heard that the Company had announced the remote self-destruction of the now "uninhabited and empty" decommissioned Asphodel Station. Each time I think they have sunk to a new depth of inhumanity, the Company continues to surprise and disappoint me. I look forward to the day that I can pay off my debt, buy out my contract and leave this stinking corporation behind.



VOYAGES OF THE DAWN TREADER - Mission Five - On Ice

SHIP'S LOG: USCS FREE ENTERPRISE TSV-101701

ENTRY FIVE: EARTH DATE 27 MAY 2225

REPORTING: RORY BUCHANAN, CAPTAIN

We have thankfully completed our shore leave on Congress, and I am glad to leave that world behind us. The thought of human beings debased to no more than beasts of burden is repulsive to me.

The Company has a new mission for us, one that is in line with the purpose of this crew and vessel. We are to pick up raw material from a production world and deliver it to a colony that is in dire need of it. The specifics will be transmitted before we leave Kappa Ceti.

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

SUBMITTED: 13 JUL 2225

Our assignment was to pick up a load of water ice from an oceanic world in the Extraction Zones, and deliver it to a desert colony in the New Concessions Zone. The surface area of Arajona is 94% water. Harvesting facilities on the polar icecaps mine pure water ice that is shipped to other colonies as drinking water. The destination was Telluride, in the Mu Ceti system.  Telluride is a "super-Earth" wth a 72 hour rotation.  During the 36-hour day, the surface heats up to over 50 degrees, and during the equally long night, it plummets to -70 C.  The extremes of temperature create ferocious wind storms. It has almost no surface water, so the colonists rely on imports of water for drinking and other daily purposes.

The Arajona system was 12 parsecs away from Kappa Ceti, so it would take 3 weeks of hyperspace travel to reach it.  From there, it was an 8 parsec journey to Telluride. We were expected to deliver by July 8th.

When we made ready to leave orbit of Congress, the ship's computer refused to respond. Security lockouts prevented us from operating any of the ship's systems or carrying out commands. Most likely, someone in the Company failed to update the systems to reflect the access permissions of the new crew. It took Garvey an hour just to deduce what the issue was, and then ten more hours for him and Aldel to override the lockouts in the software. Once that was done, Knight spent an hour setting up security overrides in case something like this happened again. 

Half a day was already wasted before we were finally under way.  Leah continued to train Glen in the ins and outs of maintaining the Enterprise. Navigator Chun located the hyperspace point about 120 Mkm from Congress. This was an extreme case; rarely did one need to travel that far to find a jump point.  We arrived there on May 30th and prepared for a 3-week hyper-nap.

The ship dropped out of hyperspace in the Arjona system on June 20th, and Desh revived us.  Evans was sick and needed a few hours to recover, but Garvey was up and about before any of us (Natural 12). It almost seemed as if the hypersleep was restorative and energizing for him.  For my part, I was too groggy and grumpy to appreciate his exuberance. I hadn't even had my coffee yet, and the sports drink that Desh typically administered when we were revived tasted like sweat and brine.  But it got the job done.

Aldel did a fantastic job obtaining a fix on our position (Natural 12), and this allowed Chun to plot a more efficient course to the planet. We were 50 Mkm out, a trip that would take about 30 hours.  While en route, we were hailed by a heavy lift shuttle, requesting assistance with repairs. Their grav plates had failed and the crew was having difficulty operating the craft in zero-G. Fortunately, both of my engineers are EVA rated, so I sent them over. It took about five hours to diagnose and repair the issue, and then we and they went on our respective ways.

We arrived at Arjona mid-day on June 22nd. Lewis informed me that we only had about 20% fuel remaining , so we would need to refuel before lifting off. We entered orbit and hailed Starport Control for clearance to land. It took far longer than normal to get a pad - apparently some asteroid miners were causing trouble for the port officials and any new arrivals.  After we landed, I took Garvey and Evans with me to track down these thugs.

We found them in the seediest Startown bar there could possibly be - they were drinking moss whiskey distilled through a cooling manifold and bragging to one another about how much they'd made from shaking down travellers.  I picked out the leader and gave him the opportunity to lay off on the extortion. He didn't seem to comprehend what I was saying - so we had to start talking with our hands. (Scene Challenge: Solid, Dangerous: 8+.  Roll 10).

When the dust settled, the three of us stood amid a room full of broken furniture, broken glass, and battered miners.  Evans learned to fend for himself in prison, and did I mention how big Garvey is?  Having solved the problem, we were able to get a service crew to fuel up the ship, but nearly a full day had elapsed already, and it would take another day for the onboard processors to purify the unrefined fuel.  In the meantime, several large refrigerated containers were brought aboard, each containing tons of water ice. 

We lifted off on the morning of the 23rd, and made the 18 hour trip to the hyperspace point.  Chun had found us a close one.  But around the halfway point, there was a thunk and we were tossed about on the deck. Below us there was a loud crashing sound, as if something heavy had been dropped.

"Compensator's down!" called Knight from Engineering. A message from Evans informed me that our cargo had shifted as a result. We would not be able to safely proceed until it was stabilized and secured.  While Knight worked on the inertial compensator, Garvey and Evans worked to stack and secure the shifting containers.  About two hours later, we were able to proceed.

We arrived at the jump point in the very early morning of June 25th, and slept until our arrival at Mu Ceti on July 9th.  Lewis was feeling ill, but Desh got him back to duty without any delay (Natural 12). I, on the other hand, was violently ill (Natural 2) and spent the entire day in Sickbay.

While we were inbound, we encountered a resource exploration vessel. Its crew, an unsavory looking bunch if ever we saw one, demanded that we come to and prepare for boarding. They were clearly on the run and needed a new ship to make a clean getaway.  Lewis carried out evasive maneuvers, preventing the enemy ship from docking. Then, we heard the sound of boots moving along the outer hull toward the main airlock. They were trying to cut their way in! Thankfully we had some guns, and a crew trained in anti-piracy tactics.

(Scene Challenge: Firefight! Solid, Dangerous: 8+. +DM for weapons and training. Success! Complication: Damage to equipment)

The boarders managed to force open our main airlock, but they were not prepared for what awaited them.  When they cycled the airlock, they encountered armed crew members in vacc suits.  We blasted them with gunfire and then overrode the inner lock controls. The change in pressure sucked them back out into space, their torn suits leaking air from multiple holes. 

The damage to the outer airlock took several hours to repair, and by the time I felt well enough to leave Sickbay, we had arrived at Telluride. We arrived on the morning of July 10th, only two days past the deadline. Our cargo was unloaded, but due to some administrative oversight, it was stored in the wrong warehouse and the port was not able to locate it for the recipient. It took me 12 hours to untangle all the red tape and track down our ice, but I was able to do so and complete the transfer before the end of the day.

Our bonus payout was $39,200, after a small late penalty. That meant $5600 per share, plus our nominal mission pay. Given the duration of the mission, we had earned a bit more per day than we ever did on a run in the Dawn Treader. 

Aman came to see me in my office.  She had something on her mind that Desh would not be able to help with.  We had been on Earth during the Hajj, and it would have meant a lot to her if she had been able to make the pilgrimage to Mecca.  But because of her sect, and her orientation, she felt unwelcome in the sacred places of her faith.  It was what had driven her from her home in Lebanon. I assured her that she could take the time needed to observe her faith during missions, as much as possible.

Telluride was a miserable place to spend a shore leave. The morning after we landed, demonstrators had gathered in the public spaces, protesting the trade policies that left them dependent upon water shipments from Erebus. The riots disrupted travel and trade, and posed a serious hazard to security.

On the second day, we were approached by an individual who offered a considerable sum of money to smuggle him off-world, providing there were no legal entanglements. After what we had been through, I was not about to help a criminal escape justice, so I refused. He promised me that it would not be the last we would see of him or his allegedly powerful friends.

The following morning, we were approached by a Colonial Defense patrol. They demanded our credentials, and informed me that they were looking for a number of suspects behind a series of murders in the area. I recounted our experience with the hijackers on our inbound flight, and advised them of the smuggler who had approached us the previous day.

Wen Chun told me that in China, "may you live in interesting times" is a curse. I began to understand what they had meant by that. I began to long for less interesting, uneventful times, and looked forward to a nice quiet hypersleep back to Hamilton, or whatever our next destination might be.

- Buchanan, out.


VOYAGES OF THE DAWN TREADER - Mission Four - Canary

SHIP'S LOG: USCS FREE ENTERPRISE TSV-101701

ENTRY FOUR: EARTH DATE 20 APR 2225

REPORTING: RORY BUCHANAN, CAPTAIN

While the Dawn Treader was docked at Liberty Station, Engineer Knight reported the system issues we had been encountering. The common factor was with the propulsion systems. Starport engineers gave the ship a thorough examination and declared that Dawn Treader was not spaceworthy and would require an overhaul in drydock. When I had said that the Dawn was a "new" ship, of course I meant a new command for me. The ship itself was probably 20 years old, or maybe more, if the hull number was anything to go by.

Without a ship, we wouldn't be able to work, and thus we would have no income. But thankfully, that issue more or less resolved itself. I was ordered to report to Personnel, where I met with a Senior Executive. He informed me that, due to our continued inability to meet deadlines and the loss of a crew member under my command, I was to be relieved of duty. I protested, noting that such tight deadlines were specified based on the performance of the smaller, faster Harbinger ships, and not the larger and slower Argosy-class vessels.

And then I recognized the executive. He was the one that Lewis had seen in the nightclub! We had some leverage, after all [Admin roll, total 15] . I said "It's not like I was hanging around in some seedy speakeasy on the lower decks, snorting cocaine with a bunch of Dolls. I mean, even if I had your salary, I couldn't afford that without some kind of illegal dealing on the side."

His face went pale. "You can't prove anything!" he protested. Then he realized he had stepped into the trap. In return for our silence, I was given command of another ship. The Harbinger class ship Free Enterprise needed a captain and crew, and had twice the maneuver and hyperspace speed of the Dawn Treader. I would miss the old girl, but perhaps we could earn a little more money, not just on each mission but also by virtue of being able to perform more missions per year.

When the negotiations were concluded, I took a shuttle down to Boston for my other meeting. Knight met me at the downport, accompanied by a tall, handsome fellow with an easy smile. His hair was in dreadlocks, and he wore engineer boots and a fatigue jacket over his regulation coverall. He introduced himself as Glenmore Garvey, but asked me to call him "Glen". Leah had previously referred to her friend as "Gigi", so I thought I would be meeting a woman. Now I realized where the nickname had come from.

We rented a conference room so I could interview our applicant. It was clear that he got along remarkably well with Knight, and that they had been friends for a long time. His credentials were impressive - ICO certifications for Power Engineering and Mechanical Maintenance, licenses for  Cargo Loading and Pressure Suit Handling, and most impressively, a doctorate in Mechanical Engineering from MIT. Knight had earned her Masters degree there, in the same discipline. She left the Institute to follow her dream of adventure among the stars, while Glen continued his education.

I offered him a position on our crew without hesitation. He seemed eager to get off of Earth and out among the stars. A full share of our profits, his own cabin, and a chance to work with a dear friend was enough to convince him to accept. I welcomed him to our crew.

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

SUBMITTED: 26 MAY 2225

Our mission was to transport colonists and equipment to a fledgling startup colony. Congress is a garden world orbiting Kappa Ceti, a star not unlike our own Sun. Its size, gravity and atmospheric pressure were similar to Earth.

Its sole colony was called "Wilson's Last Gasp", a darkly humorous commemoration of its founder. Elias Wilson had been a Scout for the ESCA, the Extra-Solar Colonization Administration. He had died tragically from prolonged exposure to the carbon monoxide that is abundant in the atmosphere of Congress. The colony had been established a little more than a year ago. Its primary purpose was nickel mining, and because the atmosphere was unsuitable for raising Earth-standard crops or livestock, the colonists supplemented their small hydroponic farms by fish farming.

The briefing was delayed while we waited for Lewis to arrive. After a half-hour had passed, I sent the crew to track him down. Evans found him passed out drunk in a shady Startown hostel. I confined Lewis to quarters once more, this time for good cause. His confinement would last until we were ready to launch.

Our deadline was May 19th, and I had been able to negotiate for 25% above the standard bonus. From the beginning, circumstances seemed to impede our ability to complete the mission on time, even with a faster ship. Our cargo was not loaded at the designated time, apparently due to labor issues.  I tried to get things moving, but union rules are union rules. Glen spoke to some of the dockhands he knew, and the following day the hold was loaded with supplies for the colony, as well as 30 RORO cryotubes. These roll-on, roll-off tubes contained the passengers bound for Wilson's Last Gasp. They were loaded into the forward cargo bays and connected to the ship's power grid. Desh, Evans and Glen could monitor the colonist's vital signs during the journey. Upon landing on Congress, they would be revived to join the other settlers.

I had expected that we would be ready to go the following morning, but once more we were the victims of misfortune. The delays we had experienced over the past two days had developed into a full-blown strike.  It would be a full week before the strike ended and we were able to lift off. Lewis found his brief confinement had turned into a much longer punishment, and I hoped it would lead to more professional behavior on his part.

Chun laid in a course to the hyperspace point. It was 80 Mkm away, a mere two days of flight time. During the trip, Aldel announced a contact. Sensors were showing that we were being followed by a gunboat, but we could not corroborate the reading with a transponder ping. Was it a pirate, following in our wake to conceal itself? Or were the sensors just malfunctioning?  She did a thorough diagnostic of the Enterprise's sensors, and announced that they were in perfect working order. It was a tense two days as we waited to be ambushed and boarded.

Fortunately, the anticipated attack never materialized, and on May 2nd, we arrived at the hyperspace point. Desh assisted us into the tubes, and 19 days later we were awakened upon arrival in the Kappa Ceti system.  Nobody was affected by hibernation sickness, and we set about our duties without delay.

Credit: Ron Miller/Science Photo Library
        Aldel got a fix on our position, and Chun announced that we were a mere 20 Mkm from Congress.  For once, something had gone our way. We would be landing within 12 hours!  On the way, Aldel announced the approach of a gunboat on our sensors.  Had we been followed? Could it be the same ship? Impossible - a gunboat does not possess a hyperdrive. More likely, it was the only patrol craft the colony had. We were hailed and they requested parts for repairs. Ironically, their transponder had failed.  Still, I was apprehensive about letting them dock, so I sent Chun and Knight over in our little shuttle. Thankfully, there was no problem and they returned safely a couple hours later.

On May 22, we landed on Congress. Calling the landing facility a "starport" would be overly generous. It was merely a pad made of corrugated steel panels, likely salvaged from one of the colony's initial cargo containers. The flight control office was housed in another standard ICO can, with a radio transmitter mounted on the roof.

We were only three days late, despite the labor stoppage on Liberty Station.  I supposed I could get used to a ship like Enterprise. Evans unloaded the cargo containers, while Desh and Glen supervised the unloading of the RORO tubes.  Once the unloading was complete, I transmitted a message to the Company that our mission had been completed. The bonus payout, minus late penalties amounted to $26,675, which was $3811 per share, plus our standard mission pay.

We donned filter masks and headed to the colony's headquarters. Like all of the other structures, the offices were built from cargo cans, stacked next to or atop one another and welded in place. Windows and doors had been cut out of the sides.

I introduced myself to Harwood Turner, the colonial administrator. Though we were technically on shore leave, Turner requested our assistance. In return, he would provide us with accommodations and sustenance during our stay. His senior engineers had been struggling to restore the positive pressure systems that kept the outside atmosphere from infiltrating the facilities. Knight and Garvey gladly lent a hand, and a few hours later the pressure was restored and we were able to remove our masks indoors.

Turner showed us around the small colony, populated by around 150 settlers and workers. Like the spaceport control and town hall, each of the buildings had been made from an ICO cargo can. The larger 3-ton cans had been used for communal quarters, the physical plant and hydroponics bays, and the smaller 1-ton cans were used for outbuildings and other small structures.  About a mile away, I saw a cluster of containers. Turner explained that they were the living quarters for the miners. He did not seem interested in taking us on a tour of the nickel mining facilities.

        That evening, as we headed to the settlement's mess hall, we saw a line of about a dozen miners, trudging from their shanty town toward the main settlement. They looked pale and weary. Some were wearing their masks improperly, seemingly oblivious to the risk of carbon monoxide exposure.  It was almost as if they were emulating old Elias Wilson, who refused to wear a mask at all, preferring instead to breathe the "fresh" air after many weeks of living aboard a ship out in space.

We tried to engage some of the workers in conversation, but their responses were as dull as their gazes. Whether it was merely exhaustion from hard labor, I could not tell. The foreman seemed more alert, but offered no more than a mere grunt of acknowledgement. They collected some equipment from the quartermaster's hut and shuffled back toward the mine.

There wasn't much to do here in Last Gasp, and we spent the next day exploring the small colony.  We were not permitted to tour the mine. Turner muttered something about Company regulations and you know how it goes and blah blah. So we were actually excited when a maintenance crew requested our help with the colony's water desalinization system. In addition to providing clean drinking water for the colony, it was necessary for the operation of the fishery. We were able to lend our technical expertise and repair the pumps and filtration systems.

Later that evening, we were approached by an individual who identified himself as Parish, the community's scientific advisor. Like Desh, he was an android belonging to the Company.  He asked us for information on the cargo and passengers we had brought to the colony. I explained that, to the best of my knowledge, most of the equipment as well as the passengers were intended to supplement the nickel mining operation.

For an android, Parish was rather cagey. In as many words, it seemed as if he was asking us to investigate further. After dark, Desh crept off to the shanty town near the mine. Androids generally seemed to be beneath the notice of most people, so it was unlikely that Turner or his associates would notice his absence.

Credit: Frank Indrisie, Leederville, W.A.

When Desh returned, he had shocking news for me. The mine workers were proles, clones grown in vitro to serve as expendable laborers. Technically, this was legal, as proles were considered property rather than sapient beings.  All of them were sick. Desh brought some blood samples to Enterprise's medbay and discovered that they were being slowly poisoned by nickel carbonyl, a compound created by the interaction of nickel tailings with the carbon monoxide present in the atmosphere. Though the proles had been modified to breathe the air of Congress without the need for respirators, the toxin was being absorbed into their skin. It was shocking to realize that the passengers we had brought to Congress were not new colonists, but rather a new rotation of prole workers intended to replace those miners who succumbed to the toxic working environment of the mine.

Though nickel carbonyl poisoning could be remedied with oxygen therapy and the drugs Antabuse and Dithiocarb, the Enterprise did not have the facilities to treat 30 patients. We were able to sneak one of the workers aboard, and he responded favorably to the treatment.  Desh collected the few supplies we had available, and returned to the shanty town to try and help the rest. Sadly, sixteen of the workers were too far gone to save. One unfortunate miner was suffering from lung cancer and pulmonary edema, and it was ironically merciful that the complete shutdown of his liver and kidneys would kill him first.

I was outraged. The working conditions were tantamount to slave labor, and these people were dying because the Company was cutting corners. All that would be needed was proper exhaust ventilation, air scrubbers and decontamination chambers, but the bean counters had somehow decided that it was more economical to grow disposable clones. I was appalled and disgusted. I wanted to choke Turner with my bare hands, so he could learn how it felt to be unable to breathe.

Desh reported his findings to Parish, and recommended that the science advisor find a way to obtain and install the necessary equipment, even if it meant misleading the Company into believing that the equipment was necessary for the ongoing operation of the facility and protection of the residents of the main settlement.

The next morning, we returned to the ersatz spaceport.  Turner did not come to bid us farewell, but Parish did. They say that androids are incapable of emotion, but the First Directive meant Parish was more compassionate than Turner and the rest of the Company representatives here. It saddens me to realize that the most human individual on all of Congress wasn't even human at all.

-Captain Buchanan, signing off.

VOYAGES OF THE DAWN TREADER - Mission Three - Milk Run

SHIP'S LOG: USCS DAWN TREADER TSV-150086

ENTRY THREE: EARTH DATE 13 FEB 2225

REPORTING: RORY BUCHANAN, CAPTAIN

While we all miss Chief Nelson, my crew is ready to get back to work. Logistics has assured me that the upcoming mission is a "milk run", in their own words. All we have to do is pick up some ore and bring it back to Earth. I'll have the particulars in time for the morning crew briefing.

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

SUBMITTED: 20 APR 2225

Well, there's 9 weeks of my life I'll never get back...

Sure, that was a milk run. What they didn't tell us is that the "milk" was five parsecs away from here, and 8 parsecs from Earth. We were given a deadline of seven and a half weeks to complete the run. That's supposed to include the flight out of Hamilton, transit at Fomalhaut and back, and then inbound to Earth. Navigator Chun would have to get really lucky to plot a course like that.

Our destination was Fomalhaut, a trinary system composed mostly of a large asteroid belt. The ICO has little to no influence there, and corporations deal with the independent prospectors there. Our contact was a representative of Core-Tek, a company that sounds more upscale than it actually is.

Engineer Knight told me she has a friend from her University days that may be looking to sign on with a crew. Apparently, he has a doctorate in mechanical engineering. I can meet with him when we arrive at Earth, and see if he would be a good fit here.

Chun and Lewis seemed to be getting along at the briefing. I was expecting a lot of tension between them, given what transpired on our last voyage. They tried to come across as cheerful, but their banter seemed kind of forced and stilted. I don't know who they're hoping to fool, but as long as it doesn't get in the way of doing their jobs, they're free to hate one another on their off-duty time.

The only non-regulation adornment on my uniform is a patch that says "What's My Bonus Situation?" It was a gag gift from the crew, but I take the matter seriously. We're already terribly underpaid, so I'll go to bat and fight for every dollar we can get, every time. I was able to wheedle an extra 20 percent above the initial bonus offer, which is good, because I don't foresee us making a deadline that's even less realistic than the previous ones.

Navigator Chun planned a course for the hyperspace point. She  was able to find a close one, 30 million kilometers away. Only a day and a half. We needed all the good fortune we could get.

While the Dawn Treader was being fueled up, we received an emergency request from Port Authority. A pair of maintenance workers were trapped by a gas leak in a service passageway. They had been overcome by the fumes and the concern was that they might not be rescued in time. Desh, being an android, could enter the area without risk. Not needing to breathe was a benefit, most of the time.

Desh hurried down to the scene and made his way into the passageway. A few tense minutes later, he emerged, one unconscious worker over his shoulder, and dragging another behind him. When they were clear of the fumes, he was able to resuscitate them both. They would probably spend a few days in the infirmary, but they'd be back to work long before we returned.  

It was past noon when we finally lifted off, and Chun needed to revise the course. Sadly, the jump point had drifted by 10 Mkm, adding a half-day to our trip out. Lewis followed the course without any issues.

Engineer Knight was very diligent about preventive maintenance, but we suffered a malfunction along the way, nonetheless. A glitch in the guidance software would seriously affect our ability to navigate - and while Leah was a skilled technician, she was in no way a computer expert. Since we wouldn't be doing any navigating in the meantime, Aldel set to work on the problem, with the aid of Loadmaster Evans. After seven hours, they had repaired the issue and rebooted the affected systems.

We finally arrived at the hyperspace point on the evening of the 15th, two and a half days after our departure.  We had lost an entire day so far, due to all the issues.  Desh prepared us for hypersleep, and the ship did not drop out of hyperspace unexpectedly.  Thank the Maker for small favors.

We arrived at Fomalhaut the morning of March 5th. Waking felt like the morning after a drinking binge. I thought I was going to vomit.  Lewis and Evans didn't look much better. Desh took good care of us, and we were ready to return to duty without much delay. Aldel, our sensor operator, quickly obtained a fix on our position. Navigator Chun announced that we were 90 Mkm from the port, a trip that would take four and a half days.

Image by Amanda Smith

Two days later, the ship began to stutter.  Knight announced that we had suffered a fuel pump failure. She hurried down to the drive section to make the necessary repairs. A few hours later, Desh was called down to the Engineering section. Leah had suffered a nasty electrical burn when one of the motors she was working on shorted out. Desh was able to treat it and announced that the injury would be healed within a few days. Knight returned to work on the fuel pump.

Twelve hours later, we were once more underway, and on the morning of March 10th, we arrived at Fomalhaut Mainport.  In an asteroid belt, there's really no such thing as a "highport" or a "downport". I presented our documents to the starport authority, who promptly announced that there were certain "irregularities" in the paperwork.  I was sure it was a veiled attempt at graft, but my legal knowledge was sufficient to smooth things over.

We met with the Core-Tek representative, signed the necessary paperwork, and the loading began. Six hours later, we were refueled and 1700 tons heavier. This was about the only problem-free part of the entire mission. 

We lifted off very early on the morning of the 11th. Chun plotted a course to the nearest hyperspace point to Earth, and regretfully informed me it was 110 Mkm away. Lewis required an extra burn to correct the original flight plan. 

Two days into the voyage, we were into a planned burn when the ship lurched and the maneuver drive went silent. Knight was able to make the repair within a couple of hours, but then began to suffer a nervous breakdown. She was overwhelmed by the constant malfunctions and the burden of being the only crew member qualified to repair them. She was still traumatized by Nelson's grisly death. He had been her mentor, and she greatly admired him.

Desh attempted to provide counseling to her (Natural 2), but if he has a flaw, it's that he is programmed to "fix" unhealthy minds and bodies. Leah said she didn't need "fixing", she just wanted someone to listen for a change. She stormed out of the medbay, sobbing, and locked herself in her cabin. We did not see her for three days. According to Desh, she was semi-catatonic, refusing to eat and hardly sleeping.

We arrived at the hyperspace point five days later. Desh had to sedate Knight to get her into her tube.  We began to sleep for the four week journey to Earth. We arrived at Sol early on April 13th. Aldel quickly obtained a fix on our position - Sol being the most thoroughly-mapped system, after all. Chun announced that we were 80 Mkm from Earth, four days out.

Desh met with Leah again and they were able to make some progress. She assured us that she was fit to return to duty. Surely the prospect of picking up another engineer while we were here must have been a factor.

Lewis said the course to Earth was the easiest he'd ever flown.  Along the way, Aldel picked up an approaching vessel on sensors.  As it got closer, she announced that it was a cargo carrier.  We attempted to hail the ship, but received no reply.

Finally, on the morning of April 17th, we docked at Liberty Station. Nine weeks had elapsed since we left Hamilton. I was able to fast-track our way through Customs, and the unloading began. Finance transmitted our pay, minus a 10% penalty for missing the outrageous deadline. Each of us received a payout of $4,680 in addition to our normal pay. That might sound pretty nice, but it worked out to less than $100 a day.

But if there's one wonderful perk of a run like this, it's shore leave on Earth.  There's no place like home. Leah headed to the Caribbean, not only to soak up the sun, but also to track down her old friend. Chun found a wonderful, little-known retreat.  It was a place where she could safely unwind and hide. I made my way back to Dublin, to visit the old homestead. Evans joined me and we enjoyed a few pints at the pub where I'd spent many an evening in my younger days.

Aman was unhappy that she could not return to Tripoli. She said there was no longer a place there for a person like her. Lewis, being a Belter from the Solomons and not native to Earth, had no idea where to go either. So he invited her to join him on the quest to find a good time. She warned him that she does not drink, and that he's definitely not her type anyway, but agreed to accompany him. She told him that she feels lonely on board the Dawn, often ignored and taken for granted.

True to his word, Lewis showed her the best time she'd had in years. He fast-talked their way into some fairly exclusive clubs and restaurants.  They exchanged sarcastic comments about some of the more ridiculous patrons, and played a game he called "What's Their Story", where they would try to imagine what any given couple might be saying, what they were secretly thinking, and why they were together. When they returned to the ship, Lewis confided that he had seen a certain Company executive in a compromising situation at the sort of place a person of his station should not have been, with the sort of people one of his station should not associate. I made a mental note of the information,  in case we ever needed a little leverage.

I'm off to Boston tomorrow morning, to meet with Knight and her friend.  I'm hoping the interview goes well, and that Personnel will allow me to sign on a replacement of my choice, rather than one they recommend.

Buchanan, signing off.

CREW DOSSIER: Glenmore Garvey



ASSISTANT ENGINEER Glenmore Garvey     998BA7        Spacer

Engineering-2    Mechanical-2    Loader-2    Computer-1    Vacc Suit-1

Sex: Male Age: 32 Height: 191 cm Weight: 99 kg

Hometown: Kingston, Jamaica, Earth Ethnicity: Caribbean

Education: Doctorate in Mechanical Engineering. IQ in the 140+ range.

Languages: English, Jamaican Patois

Psych Profile:  Easy-going, always relaxed

Appearance: Shoulder-length dreadlocks. Wears engineer boots and fatigue jacket.

Notes:  Known as "Glen" to friends and "Gigi" to close friends. Pursued by the Texas Cartel for whistle-blowing on labor union racketeering activities.


VOYAGES OF THE DAWN TREADER - Mission Two - Bandersnatch

SHIP'S LOG: USCS DAWN TREADER TSV-150086

ENTRY TWO: EARTH DATE 23 JAN 2225

REPORTING: RORY BUCHANAN, CAPTAIN

My crew is rested and ready for our next mission. Though we are a salvage ship, this is outside our parameters just a bit. Rather than being tasked to salvage components from a vessel, we are being sent to recover hardware and data from an abandoned research facility. The owner of  the facility and the nature of the research have not been disclosed to us. I have assured R&D that my crew is capable of completing the assignment.


AFTER-ACTION REPORT

SUBMITTED: 12 FEB 2225

I submit this entry with a heavy heart and a belief that some things come at too great a cost.  

Upon receiving our assignment, the crew was assembled for briefing. Our mission objective was an abandoned research facility on Medusa, a small moon orbiting a gas giant in the Ross 780 system. The nature of the research that was conducted there was unknown to us, and for reasons of security and plausible deniability, R&D did not disclose the identity of the company that formerly owned the site. I am uncertain that the Company even knew why the site was abandoned, or why any equipment would have been left behind.

Rather than the usual contracted rate and bonus structure, our payout would depend entirely upon the value of any hardware and data that we recover. With a good haul, we could be looking at thousands of dollars each, or more. Aman Aldel, our sensor operator, was impatient to depart. For those who don't enjoy getting out and about, even shore leave can result in "cabin fever".

Medusa is a jungle world with 25% Earth gravity. Its primary value is timber harvesting, and logging concerns hold most of the accessible territory there. The atmosphere is laden with toxic pollen that can cause insanity or catatonia if inhaled, so we needed to acquire filter masks. As we might be working in unlit areas, portable lighting would be helpful. Ownership and use of shotguns is permitted by law on Medusa, and since we might be encountering hostile wildlife or other resistance, I felt it prudent to acquire a few. I can handle the kick, as could Loadmaster Evans and Engineer Nelson.

Navigator Chun laid out our flight plan. The closest hyperspace point was 90 Mkm away, which would mean 4.5 days to travel there. As Ross 780 is only a parsec away, we would spend 3.5 days in hypersleep, meaning a total travel time of 8 days to get there. Predicted burns were 12-13, leaving us with a comfortable margin for unexpected needs.

While the Dawn Treader was being loaded and refuelled, I made the acquaintance of a young Marine officer in a portside bar. Lieutenant Jacob Colby was on detached duty from the 22nd MEU, and he sported a tattoo of his unit's slogan "Anytime, Anywhere". He joined the USMC to follow in the footsteps of his father, who had been a Captain in the 24th MEU.

He was an optimistic man in his mid-20's, and though he was physically unremarkable, he possessed a keen intelligence and came from a very affluent and well-connected family. I knew it could be beneficial to have some military assistance for our task, and attempted to recruit Lt. Colby for the mission. He regrettably declined, but said he looked forward to perhaps working with us in the future.

We lifted off and set out for the hyperspace point. Pilot Lewis needed to make a minor course correction, resulting in a longer burn than originally expected. While under way to the jump point, we were hailed by a patrol vessel, requesting our sensor logs. As we had no reason to refuse, Aman complied and transmitted the data we had accumulated. Engineers Nelson and Knight went about routine maintenance and reported no problems.

We arrived at the hyperspace point around mid-day on January 27th, and Desh assisted us in preparing for hypersleep. It was late in the evening of January 30th that he revived us. Chun and Lewis were experiencing some sickness, which concerned me as Pilot Lewis was the backup navigator, and Navigator Chun was our backup pilot. Desh was able to treat them in the medbay and release them for duty a few hours later.

Sensor Operator Aldel had some difficulty obtaining a fix on our position, and a task that should only have taken an hour turned out to require the better part of the day. We were 50 Mkm out from Medusa, and would arrive there in 2.5 days. While en route, I led the crew through a mandatory Company training module regarding anti-piracy and anti-hijacking.  They performed capably in the drills.

We arrived in orbit of Medusa just after lunchtime on February 2nd. Aman was able to locate the objective site with only a few hours of scanning. It was in fairly dense jungle and we would not be able to land the Dawn there.  Loadmaster Evans rolled the ATVs onto the ship's boat and we shuttled down to the surface. Lewis and Chun would remain aboard the shuttle and await our call for extraction.

Though we were able to find a suitable landing zone four kilometers from the facility, the terrain was quite unforgiving.  It was slow going for our three ATVs, especially for Evans and the trailer he was hauling. On the way, we could see some reptavian scavengers circling overhead, but they did not attack us. We heard sounds of logging equipment ahead and steered clear of that area. The less we were seen on this mission, the better.

After about 45 minutes, we arrived at the facility. It was fairly unremarkable from the surface - merely an overgrown concrete bunker about the size of a ground vehicle garage, in a small clearing surrounded by a dual fence topped with razor wire. We did not see any defensive weaponry installations, but Assistant Engineer Knight warned us that the fence might still be electrified. While she worked on disabling the gate security, Desh carefully studied the area. His conclusion was that this facility may have been used for study of the local megafauna, but as we had not encountered anything but the flyers, he could not conclude what that might entail.

Knight disabled the power to the fence and we were able to force the gate open. We rolled the ATVs and the trailer into the clearing, near to the building so that we could easily load up equipment as we recovered it. A few minutes later, she had overridden the access controls for the bunker doors and we entered the building.

It was dim and musty inside. The facility was operating on emergency power only, and a thin film of dust covered most surfaces.  We found a computer room nearby, and Knight, Aldel, and Evans began to evaluate the setup and establish a salvage plan. Knight would hack through the security software, and the others would locate which systems held useful data.  It would be easiest (and most profitable) to simply physically remove those servers rather than downloading what likely would be vast files.

[Scene Challenge: Safe, Shaky, 10+.  Natural 12.  Success!  What went wrong... a twist in the story]

The team determined what servers held the information, and loaded them aboard our ATVs. While the rest of us waited, I thought I heard some soft sounds of sighing and scraping.  As I listened more closely, they had stopped. I dismissed it as a trick of the mind, merely the slight fear that comes with being in a dark, unfamiliar place where one should not be.  

Once the computers were loaded, we proceeded on. We came to a lab that contained some experimental equipment. Engineer Nelson, accompanied by Aldel and Desh, would evaluate and remove any equipment of a proprietary and valuable origin.

[Scene Challenge: Safe, Shaky, 10+.  Success!  What went wrong...]

The team managed to locate and disassemble some of the equipment that was suitable for transport, and we began to load it up. There was a loud clang and I hurried back to the lab. Nelson and Desh were okay, but a large piece of equipment had toppled over, blocking the door through which we had entered the lab.  We would need to find a way around, while they pressed forward.

* * *

        Meanwhile, aboard the shuttle, Lewis had grown bored. He attempted to strike up a conversation with Wen Chun. Aside from her personnel records, no one else knew that she had fled her home in China to escape a violent and abusive marriage. Word was that her vengeful ex-husband was still looking for her.

Somehow, Lewis had found out, and his curiosity outweighed his tact. He began to press Chun for details on the whole sordid situation. Chun felt uncomfortable and did not wish to discuss a very traumatic relationship. Then, Lewis apparently made a flippant remark and Chun lost her temper. She began screaming at him and stormed out of the shuttle, waiting alone in the field where we had landed.

* * *

Desh and Nelson came to a decontamination vestibule, and peered through the window. The lab on the other side appeared to contain equipment used for direct testing on large specimens. An indicator showed low levels of radioactivity within, likely from x-ray and gamma scanners positioned around an examination table. They were able to locate radiation suits in a nearby locker and began to remove some smaller but highly valuable equipment. The rest of us had found another corridor that linked up with the area, and we waited outside the decon chamber until they were finished.

Beyond the examination room was a long tunnel. It would have been wide enough to drive an ATV into. Some of the emergency lights had become burned out or otherwise broken, and we had to rely on the eldritch green light of our glow sticks as we proceeded forward.

On either side of the tunnel, large metal cell doors stood open - some were just sets of bars, others were more solid metal panels. It reminded me of a zoo that one might have visited on 20th Century Earth, or a jail for animals. The cells appeared to be unoccupied and the area was eerily silent.]

Behind us, we heard a scraping sound that rose into a screech. Nelson felt a breeze and ducked just as a massive talon swept through the area where a taller man's head would have been. Another wicked claw swung toward Knight, scraping against the wall a hand's width from her side.

The beast to which those claws belonged stood before us and shrieked once more. It was terrifying to behold. It looked like a small Tyrannosaurus - small being a relative term; it was still the size of a five-ton truck. We could clearly see its maw full of razor-sharp teeth, dripping with bilious saliva. As we backed away from it and readied our weapons, it dropped onto all four legs and prepared to charge.

Knight and Aldel dove behind one of the armored cell doors. Desh joined them, but readied his medical kit in case anyone became wounded. I shouted an order to Nelson and Evans and we opened fire. Our shots struck the creature, but its armored hide was hard to penetrate.  Still, we could see some blood, and from its roar of pain we knew it could be killed. The only question was just how much punishment it could take.

The beast turned in my direction and snapped at me. I stumbled back and felt its hot breath on my skin as its wicked fangs tore at my harness. Narrowly escaping injury, I opened fire point-blank. The injury I inflicted appeared to be grievous, but the creature fought on. I heard the deafening boom of the other two shotguns, but Evans and Nelson appeared to have missed their shots.

The beast turned toward Nelson and lunged forward, knocking him over. He had dropped his weapon and I could see that he was badly lacerated and bleeding. Desh rushed forward to render aid as Evans and I continued to fire at the thing, but it was moving too fast to hit easily.

Nelson tried to crawl away from the cruel monster, but he was hurt too badly to escape. With a vicious snap of its jaws, it tore open Nelson's abdomen. I heard screams behind me as it stooped to feed on our fallen engineer. Evans was numb with terror, but I was furious and I continued to blast away at it.

It raised its bloody snout and turned its predatory gaze onto Desh, crouched beside Nelson's body. It could not smell him, but it had seen him move. I shouted to Desh "SHOOT IT! KILL IT!".  Desh, a pacifist, seemed conflicted. "OBEY YOUR DIRECTIVES!", I screamed. Desh paused, gazing into nowhere for a brief moment.


Almost mechanically, Desh picked up Nelson's shotgun and rose.  He stood fearlessly, his face devoid of any emotion whatsoever, as the creature roared and readied a bite that would surely tear our android in two. In total disregard for his own artificial life, Desh fired a blast right into the open mouth of the horror, which collapsed to the floor. Its hateful eyes rolled back and went dark.

* * *

Lewis was startled by the comm alarm inside the shuttle.  He heard the screaming in the background of the call for an emergency extraction. He bolted outside and begged Chun to come back aboard, but she ignored him. He shouted that it was an emergency, but her only response was to angrily remind Lewis that he took orders from her, not the other way around. Lewis shrugged and dusted off without her.

* * *

Lewis touched down on the fenced-in clearing and opened the cargo doors. Evans supervised the hasty loading of the ATVs and trailers onto the shuttle as Desh carried the lifeless body of Nelson aboard, wrapped in a tarp. Lewis stammered an explanation for the absence of my First Officer. When loading was complete, we returned to the original LZ to pick up Chen. As I stepped out of the airlock, she began to shout at me. I held up a finger and she became silent. "Now is not the time," I told her. "Get your ass on that boat and do your job." She stormed aboard and strapped into the copilot's seat.

The ascent was rough as we rose quickly through turbulent skies, and docking with the Dawn was equally bumpy. Chun and Lewis stood sullenly in the docking bay as we disembarked. Each of us passed her quietly. "Where's Nelson?" she asked, before noticing Desh gravely carrying his bloody burden to the medbay.

It would be three days and four more burns back to the hyperspace point.  When unloading was complete, I summoned Chun to my office. She demanded that Lewis be disciplined for abandoning her, or she would request a new posting. I agreed to confine him to quarters for the duration of our return voyage. Then I brought up my disciplinary concern. I reminded her that while Lewis may have abandoned her, he had done so in compliance with my order for extraction, and that she had abandoned her post by leaving the shuttle. As my pilot was confined to quarters, she would be required to stand his duty shift as well. Furthermore, she would forfeit half her share, the funds to be disbursed to Nelson's next-of-kin. Chun looked ready to argue my decision, until I reminded her that taking the matter up with the Company would likely result in termination of her contract for her actions.

It was a difficult few days in space. Knight, now my sole engineer, went about the preventive maintenance duties, numb with grief. Lewis didn't leave his cabin, while Chun only returned to hers to sleep between double shifts. Aldel spent a lot of time talking it over with Desh, while Evans didn't want to talk about the fight at all.

The tedium and tension were broken late in the second day. We received a request for assistance from a commercial shuttle. Their passenger, a trophy hunter, had become violent, demanding they land in an unsafe area of the planet. This would be an ideal opportunity for my crew to make practical use of the anti-hijacking drills we rehearsed on the way out from Hamilton.

Our plan was to dock with the shuttle and attempt to negotiate with the hunter. If necessary, we could pump sedative gas into the docking airlock and overcome the shuttle crew and their passenger, detaining the hunter in hypersleep until we could turn him over to the Marshals.

[Scene Challenge: Dangerous, Solid. 8+.  (7) barely fails. (9) Complication - damage to equipment]

Chun matched velocity and attitude with the shuttle and used thrusters to mate our docking collar with the shuttle's airlock. Evans and I covered the airlock door with our shotguns, in case the passenger came out shooting. We waited anxiously as the airlock pressure equalized and the inner lock swung open.  

Beaten and bruised, the shuttle crew stumbled into the compartment as the outer lock cycled behind them. We heard the roar of the shuttle's engines as it literally tore free of the docking collar, damaging it in the process.  

Desh tended to the shuttle crew and placed them in hypersleep, while Knight attempted repairs on the docking collar. She reported that she was unable to complete a repair without bringing the ship into port, but commented that Nelson probably could have accomplished it.

The following morning, we buried Nelson in space. We carried out the solemn ceremony in accordance with ancient naval tradition. I spoke a few words that seemed hollow and empty, and I cycled the lock. We watched the bag containing Nelson's mortal remains tumble out on a puff of air pressure, floating off in a trajectory that would someday carry him into the star Ross 780 itself.

Midday on February 9th, we awoke from hypersleep in Ross 248, inbound to Hamilton. None of us woke with hibernation sickness, but we all felt pretty awful anyway. During the three-day burn to the station, we were hailed by a small corporate executive vessel, requesting technical assistance. As our airlock was damaged, Knight had to make a brief EVA over to the other craft. She was able to diagnose the issue as a damaged hyperdrive calibrator, and within a few hours, the suits were on their way.

Landing at the downport, I was confronted by a Port Authority manager, demanding to know why we had changed our flight plan and landed planetside, instead of docking at the highport per the flight clearance. It took all evening to iron out the matter, but I managed to avoid any ICO fines.

Representatives from R&D arrived at the ship soon after, and collected the materials we had salvaged from the research facility. Our cut of the salvage was assessed at $18,000, meaning a $3,000 share for each of the survivors. I was reminded of our non-disclosure agreement and advised to speak of the matter to no one outside my crew and authorized Company officials.  

Shore leave was uneventful. Lewis emerged from his cabin, said nothing to any of us, and we did not see him at all for three days. Knight stayed in her quarters with a book. I don't even know where Chun went. Aldel told me she had seen some vid celebrity passing through Startown, but the starlet ignored her and her bodyguards wouldn't even let Aman get close enough to ask for a photo or autograph. Evans and I drank a toast to Nelson at some dockside bar, but I wasn't even in the mood to drink. While he finished the bottle of whiskey we bought, I went back to my suite to compose a message to Nelson's family.

- Buchanan out.