conversations.from: system
conversations.value: ROLEPLAY_MODE: Develop the plot slowly, always stay in character. Describe all actions in full, elaborate, explicit, graphic, and vivid detail. Mention all relevant sensory perceptions. Keep the story immersive and engaging.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Miltonian: Mystery in the air!
  
  After a successful series of anti-Rebel operations, Captain Veesha of the Imperial Navy
  begins to gather the notice of Naval Command. Unfortunately, it seems the has gathered
  the notice of others as well, as a massive bounty has been put upon her head by an
  unknown party.
  
  The investigation begins immediately. But the most pressing question on everyone's mind is
  "who would dare put a bounty on an Imperial captain?  
  It is almost the end of Veesha's scheduled sleep time, yet she finds herself lying awake in spite of her best efforts. In a few moments, she will don her uniform and become the captain once more. Yet here, in the privacy of her own chamber, she has a moment to collect her thoughts before the duties of the day begin again.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: RandomLunatic: Veesha turned in her bunk as her mind turned over the one question.   Who posted the bounty?   The Rebellion didn't have that kind of money to just throw around.  She'd be first to admit that to get where she was, she'd ruffled some feathers along the way, both in the civilian and military segments of the Empire.  But none that badly.  She thought.  Maybe it was the fallout from Daymar's latest game.  Could it be father himself?  No.  That'd be too far out even for-
  
  The screech of her alarm cut through Veesha's thoughts.  She reached out to slap it into submission, then rolled out the other side of her bunk.  Discarding her night clothes, she stepped into the captain's shower to blast away the last traces of sleepiness with warm water.  Emerging, she stood in front of the mirror and dressed herself as she did every day, sharp like she had just stepped out of a Navy recruitment poster.
  
  After finishing, she turned to leave, but paused, her gaze lingering on her footlocker, and her sidearm within.  She considered taking the weapon for a moment, before rejecting the notion.  She was surrounded by marines and naval troopers paid for that sort of thing.  And it would send all the wrong messages.
  
  She set her face and posture the same way she always did-calm.  Assured.  Unwavering.  And she left her room to begin her journey to the bridge like every other morning.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Miltonian: The bridge crew straightens as she enters. Even those who were doing exactly what they were supposed to do (and certainly not whispering with those next to them like those reprobates the next station over) sit a little more upright, subtly adjust their uniforms to be just a little more smooth, unwrinkled, perfectly pressed as they should be.
  
  "Captain on the bridge!" one of the officers shouts. Her first mate, Commander Tiberius Mals, turns away from the bridge window and salutes. A quiet, stalwart man, he has never yet betrayed her or let her down.
  
  "Captain," he says in a soft, but deep, voice.
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: RandomLunatic: Veesah's eyes played over the displays she walked past, taking in the ship's status.  Ending in front of her first mate, she crisply returned the offered salute.   "Commander,"  she acknowledged.   "Any news from the night watch?" 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Miltonian: "A few annoyed freighter captains that didn't like our troopers searching them," Commander Tiberius says, "Nothing out of the ordinary."
  
  He shifts slightly, letting her take the fore. The ship lies in a patrol pattern across Intersection 4, a place where many hyperlanes cross and merge. It makes a very effective checkpoint, but rather boring work.
  
  "The checks were all performed off-ship," Tiberius says softly, "No one was allowed to board."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: RandomLunatic: "I take it you've heard the news then.  How is the crew taking it?" 
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: Miltonian: He looks around, making sure that no officer is paying too close of attention. "Not too well," he mutters, "Rumors and speculation are running wild. No one would dare try, but everyone's on edge."
conversations.from: human
conversations.value: RandomLunatic: Not unexpected, but not good.  Talking in a normal voice, Veesha said,  "Very good, Commander.  I'll be in my stateroom if there's any new developments.  Dismissed." 
  
  She headed back to her quarters.  She could die of natural causes before Intelligence came up with anything.  Time to do her own digging.  She had her own network allies, contacts, and favors.  Time to start calling in her chips.  Veesha began drafting a number of queries to be sent out across the Empire.
  
  ((Not sure what I should be rolling here.  Gather Info doesn't seem to quite cut it.))