The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread
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		<h2 id="linktree">Play-By-Post: Light =&gt; Light: Human Small Groups =&gt; Topic started by: NiceTexasGuy on 29-05-2013, 17:39:41</h2>
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				Title: <strong>The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NiceTexasGuy</strong> on <strong>29-05-2013, 17:39:41</strong>
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				<strong>Mortimer - Bernadette - the docks outside New Paris</strong><br><br><br>The problem was not that ships couldn't find fuel.&nbsp; On the contrary, storage tanks at the fuel farms were filled to overflowing, just like the cargo holds on most of the ships.&nbsp; The problem was the tax.&nbsp; The politicians on Londinum had passed a fuel tax to pay off various debts incurred by the war, and the tax hurt everyone.&nbsp; Of course it hurt the border worlds and rim worse - the philosophy being they're the ones responsible for the war - but everyone felt the impact.&nbsp; The one thing that did make sense was this particular tax expired after one year unless it was specifically renewed.&nbsp; The smart money was on the Parliament renewing the tax.&nbsp; Still, hope springs eternal in the human breast, and as the deadline approached, a lot of people were holding their breath (and holding off on those big fuel purchases) just in case.<br><br>Then it happened:&nbsp; <em>The Miranda Broadwave</em>.&nbsp; The press had already started referring to is as "the week of the pax and the tax" -- but it was clear any talk of the tax took a back seat to assigning blame for Miranda.&nbsp; To some, it was just another incident where someone was accusing someone in government of behaving badly.&nbsp; It didn't affect their efforts to put food on the table&nbsp; To others, it was the scandal that could bring down the current government.&nbsp; As the talking heads pontificated and the politicians scrambled to cover their own asses, the fuel tax was forgotten.<br><br>On the night the fuel tax expired, ships and tankers were lined up at every outlet on Bernadette (and probably every other planet where fuel was bought and sold) to fill up with the precious commodity.&nbsp; Cargo that had been sitting in a hold for a week could now make its owner rich -- IF it was the first shipment to arrive.<br><br>Yes, people are that fickle.<br><br>While most ships sat motionless, there had been <em>some</em> activity.&nbsp; People smart enough to know if they delivered the right cargo to the right place at the right time and beat out those hoping the tax would expire, they would make more than enough to cover the extra cost.&nbsp; The business was a gamble.&nbsp; A regular guy could make a living hauling cargo, but to try to make a killing wasn't for the weak of heart.<br><br>Twenty four hours after the expiration of the fuel tax, practically every cargo ship in the 'verse was en route to somewhere, and very few could be found planetside.&nbsp; One ship that <em>could</em> be found on the ground was the <em>Andromeda</em>.&nbsp; It had been undergoing a complete renovation at the New Paris Shipyard when the ship's owner suffered a financial setback completely unrelated to either fuel taxes or Miranda.&nbsp; The bottom line was that <em>his</em> bottom line could no longer allow him to pay for the work done on his ship.&nbsp; A few hours of legal work later, the shipyard offered the ship for sale, and for a good price.&nbsp; They weren't in the business of selling ships, and had no desire to enter into it.&nbsp; All they wanted was to get paid for the work they did, and the ship was priced accordingly, for a quick sale.&nbsp; <br><br>The shipyard manager also didn't like ships cluttering up his yard, so a condition of the sale was that the new owner had until close of business the day following completion of the sale to get the ship out of the yard.<br><br><div align="center">---------</div><br>Mortimer Morrison would know about the tax and the Miranda scandal that was building, but he wouldn't know how difficult it would be to find a ship heading out to the Rim after the initial surge.&nbsp; As a journalist, Mort Morrison would be paying more attention to current events affecting society in general, to the detriment of his personal agenda.&nbsp; His personal agenda was to get off Bernadette and out into the black.&nbsp; To experience life at its most basic.&nbsp; Life on the Rim.&nbsp; Send its stories back to the news outlets in the Core.&nbsp; And maybe write a book about it.<br><br>"Nothing?&nbsp; Nobody?&nbsp; I can't believe that."&nbsp; He was at the Yardmaster's Office of the New Paris Dockyard, which was eerily silent and virtually empty of ships.<br><br>"You saw for yourself on the way in.&nbsp; Only ships out there are either broke or impounded.&nbsp; Give it a couple more days and they'll start drifting in from other places -- trade goes both ways, you know."&nbsp; Trouble was, sitting around for two days waiting for a ship to come in wouldn't do him much good.&nbsp; There would be no cargo for that ship to take anywhere else.&nbsp; Not for several days, anyway.&nbsp; And Mort didn't want to sit around New Paris for several days plus two.&nbsp; He'd been to Bernadette before.&nbsp; Several times.&nbsp; He'd seen the sights.&nbsp; Several times.&nbsp; He had no desire to see them again.&nbsp; Not any time soon, anyway.&nbsp; He was heading for <em>the black</em> and he was anxious to get there. <br><br>"You can always try one of the Hiring Halls" the government man suggested.&nbsp; Mort gave him a quizzical look.&nbsp; This wasn't Mort's world, so the government man went on to explain.&nbsp; "It's one of them places where people go to get work - on one of the freelancers, or maybe handling cargo.&nbsp; Sometimes the big boys use 'em, too.&nbsp; Most of them got regular crews though.&nbsp; Gotta be a member of course.&nbsp; To get work I mean.&nbsp; It ain't official, but everybody knows they exist.&nbsp; Know what I'm saying?&nbsp; Course you ain't gonna get hired on, but they might tell you if they know of any ships goin' out.&nbsp; A paying passenger is usually a good thing."<br><br>"Okay, where can I find one of these ... halls?"<br><br>"Cain't tell you that, son.&nbsp; If I knew where one was, I'd be obligated as a government official to report it to the proper authorities so they could shut it down."&nbsp; What he was saying without saying it was he understood the value of the system that subverted the official process but got things done more efficiently, and he wasn't going to be responsible for shutting one down and putting people out of work.<br><br>"Ever drink green beer?" the customs official asked as Mort was stepping out the door.<br><br>"Green beer?&nbsp; No, why do you ask?"<br><br>The older man just shook his head and wished the reporter good luck finding a hiring hall.<br><br>Green beer?&nbsp; Green beer.&nbsp; He'd heard something about green beer once upon a time, but he didn't remember the context.&nbsp; Thank god for the cortex.&nbsp; He dug out his hand held access terminal to discover green beer meant St Paddy's Day, a traditional Celtic celebration.&nbsp; The taxi driver denied knowing anything about hiring halls.&nbsp; After all, the man asking looked like he was either a reporter or a Fed, and either one meant bad news to anyone who talked too much about things they weren't supposed to know about.&nbsp; Celtic bars?&nbsp; The driver had never heard of a Celtic bar.&nbsp; He didn't even know what a Celtic was.&nbsp; Scottish bars?&nbsp; The driver didn't know of any Scottish bars, though he knew most bars sold scotch.&nbsp; Welsh bars?&nbsp; He wasn't sure what a welsh was, except for a guy who didn't pay his debts.&nbsp; &nbsp;<em>Irish bars?</em>&nbsp; Oh yes, he knew of several of those.&nbsp; Taking pity on the young man (against his better judgement) he dropped Mort off outside Flanagan's ... beer and darts and songs criticizing the English in the front, and a mysterious door with a little one way window at eye level leading into the back.&nbsp; Mort figured he didn't need to go into the hiring hall (if that's what was beyond that door) and trying to gain entry would be counterproductive.&nbsp; <br><br>The bartender should know of any ships departing the planet any time soon, so Mort asked him.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kckolbe</strong> on <strong>09-06-2013, 01:22:02</strong>
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				<strong>Sebastien - Bernadette - Shipyard - Evening</strong><br><br>Sebastien sighed.&nbsp; The initial excitement of owning his own ship, and, by extension, his own business, was wearing off.&nbsp; Rather, it was turning into fear.&nbsp; The ship was paid for, and he was assured it was flyable (and he hadn't seen anything to suggest otherwise, though he was not the most knowledgeable on such matters), meaning that all he needed was crew.&nbsp; That was the easy part, right?&nbsp; Wasn't Bernadette <em>filled</em> with space hands looking for regular income?<br><br>He'd posted flyers with his cell phone number and placed an ad on a Cortex forum devoted to travel aficionados mentioning his desire for employees.&nbsp; He'd spent the majority of the day with his phone handy, frequently checking the thread for responses, which did exist.&nbsp; Unfortunately, few of the responses expressed interest in working for him (the majority wanted to buy it from him), and those that did were not helpful.&nbsp; <em>I'd be interested in signing up, but I am currently about 80 days away.</em>&nbsp; He would be calling his account for money before he ever took off.<br><br>So now he had only tonight and until mid day the following day to leave the shipyard, or his contract was void, and with only a partial refund after penalties.&nbsp; He'd thought the penalty rather steep, but he never expected it to be an issue.&nbsp; Even now, he knew he could technically fly the ship himself, and the more adventurous aspects of his personality were eager to do so, but they'd had their turn in getting him to buy the ship in the first place and were now placed in emotional time out by the emerging panic and paranoia that currently governed him.&nbsp; <br><br><em>If I went to the ship and took off, first there would be the possibility of maintenance problems.&nbsp; After all, this ship hasn't flown in some time.&nbsp; Something could fail in takeoff.&nbsp; I could destroy the ship with one faulty move whilst in takeoff or landing.&nbsp; Best case scenario, I am fortunate in both endeavors, only to land at the docks whereupon I am obligated to dispense with twenty-four credits for docking fees, immediately commencing my business venture with a loss of credits, truly an ominus development.&nbsp; In</em> addition <em>to that, I then have to repost every flyer, as the ship will no longer be available for inspection in the advertised location, thus calling my credibility as captain and employer in dire question.&nbsp; No.&nbsp; That shan't be the course of action.</em><br><br>After several such internal arguments, Sebastien decided to return to the shipyard and attempt to negotiate an extension with the manager of the shipyard, but he had gone home for the day.&nbsp; His attempt to work with the night shift man had not proved fruitful.<br><br><strong>"Excuse me, chap, but I wish to contact your manager regarding the details of our earlier arrangement and inquire about the possibility of extension or renegotiation."</strong><br><br>"Sorry to disappoint, but I was warned you would come back scared and was told to tell you a deal is a deal."<br><br><strong>"You were <em>warned</em> of my return?&nbsp; I find that a preposterous claim, as I have neither introduced myself nor explained to you the nature of said agreement originally negotiated with your employer."</strong><br><br>"Trust me.&nbsp; You are exactly the person he told me about.&nbsp; No changes.&nbsp; Get the ship out by noon tomorrow or you lose it."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>icecradle</strong> on <strong>09-06-2013, 14:21:15</strong>
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				<strong>Ky - Bernadette - Shipyard - evening</strong><br><br>Ky didn't know anything about the fuel tax or the Miranda broadwave. What he did know was that he'd managed to arrive at this godforsaken place just a few hours too late to hitch a ride to... well... anywhere. He didn't care. It wasn't about the destination, it was about finding someplace to fit in. Someplace where he could learn on the job, get fed... maybe even earn himself a little money. The wages weren't that important though. He was inexperienced and he knew that. He was also prepared to work for practically nothing to get the right training. Years he'd been idly daydreaming of being a proper mechanic. Daydreaming of leaving his brother's ship behind and going out into the 'verse on his own. <br><br>Careful what you wish for. That's what they said, and boy, Ky had never given it much thought before but it seemed the saying rang true. The crew had settled down to refuel and pick up whatever cargo it was Ky's brother had arranged. Ky had been twitchier than usual that morning. He always trusted his gut - it was one of the reasons he made such a good lookout - and something had definitely been wrong. He'd mentioned it to the rest of the crew, but his warnings had been waved off as paranoia. So Ky had taken his own small precautions, gathering up his beloved possessions and taking them with him as he wandered a little way away from the ship to watch out from a distance. And he'd been right. Lord, he'd wished it'd just been paranoia, but within the hour the ship was crawling with Alliance authorities and Ky was off like a lit rocket, getting himself as far away from the scene as possible. <br><br>The rest of the crew hadn't been so lucky, and Ky wasn't sure exactly what had become of them all. Were they still alive? Imprisoned? No-one seemed to know... or weren't inclined to part with the information without some sort of recompense, and Ky didn't have anything to use as incentive. He was alone now... and he couldn't just sit there like a lost puppy wondering what became of the rest of the pack. He had to survive. He had to get himself somewhere.<br><br>He'd hitched to the ports, but the place seemed empty and Ky couldn't help but feel that maybe his lucky streak was over... but then a flyer caught his attention. Someone was recruiting a crew and maybe, just maybe, he'd be able to get himself on board as an apprentice mechanic. He didn't have any way of contacting the owner of the ship so he'd made his way to the shipyard stated on the flyer and there he'd waited, for a couple of hours, until finally someone showed up. <br><br>Trying to be inconspicuous, Ky meandered closer to the man, catching part of his conversation with the night-guard. Mercy, that guy sounded like he'd gone and swallowed a whole dictionary. Ky was always a little suspicious of people who used long words in casual conversation. It was like they <em>wanted</em> to confuse people. To keep them on the back foot. But beggars couldn't be choosers and this might be the last damn ship to leave the docks for a while. Ky needed to be on it. <br><br>Pausing until the night-guard left, he approached the other man, eying him suspiciously as he did. "'Scuse me, mister," he began, crossing his arms across his chest, standing as tall as he could muster as he took in the other man's sharp attire, pasty skin and well-groomed appearance. A learned man, obviously, as if his vocabulary hadn't already given that away. "You Dulain? I 'eard you were lookin' for a crew an' I've come to... uh... offer my services." That sounded smart, didn't it? Business-like. "I'm a 'pprentice mechanic," he added, putting the emphasis on <em>mechanic</em> rather than apprentice, "Name's Ky Doherty."
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CurvyKitten</strong> on <strong>10-06-2013, 00:32:59</strong>
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				<div class="floatleft">(http://venus.provocateuse.com/images/photos/eliza_dushku_02.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Kaela (Kay) Luna Devora<br><strong>Location:</strong> Flanagan's<br><strong>Tagging:</strong> Open<br>Wearing (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=46188439)<br><hr><br>Kaela sat at the bar of Flanagan's a drink in front of her, the brown liquid melting away the ice that cooled it. Her finger ideally trailed along the edge of the glass as she stared off to nowhere. Her life had slowed to a crawl after leaving her last crew. They had started to push their limits and her gut just told her bad news was soon to fallow. So before any of that came to be Kay made sure to get her happy ass out of there. There was no amount of money that would be worth being dragged back to the Alliance. Lord knows what they would plan on doing with her if they ever got a hold of her once more. <br><br>The past few days had been utterly uneventful, and she was starting to feel stagnate and stuck. Not to mention broke. Her money had started to run low and soon she would find herself without a roof over her head. Not that she couldn't see to wooing her way into a bed for the night. It only took finding the right mark and letting him think that he really had her hooked. And most of the time those men finished quickly enough to not really bother her too much. Though she hoped another job would come well before she had to let some drunkard feel her up. <br><br>Downing her whiskey she signaled the bartender for another just as the doors to Flanagan's opened up. Her eyes instinctively went to the doors as measured up the newest arrival. As always no matter how drunk she would get Kay's survival instincts were always on high. She had already noted the strongest threats within the bar, and all the exits for a quick getaway. But as she looked over the man that entered (Mortimer) she felt he was as much a threat to her as the ice was to her drink. He'd probably only end up watering down her night. She did wonder if he had gotten lost, as well dressed as he was. He was clearly not aware of what could happen to a man like that in a place like this. <br><br>Shaking her head Kay looked back to the bar and the drink that had just been placed before her. <strong>"Thanks Shmit,"</strong> she said sliding him some money for the drink.<strong> "No worries, though you going to shut me down again tonight or do you actually have plans?"</strong> he asked the woman that had started to become a new addition to the place. <strong>"Probably help you close again. That a bad thing?"</strong> she asked with a cheeky grin.<strong> "Not at all."</strong> he said with a laugh and added a bit more whiskey to her glass and gave her a wink. Kay smiled and took a deep breath as she raised the glass to her lips once more.<br>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>Anna Katrine</strong> on <strong>10-06-2013, 23:21:34</strong>
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				<strong>Mona - Bernadette - Flanagan's - evening</strong><br><br>Brushing her hair away from her left eye, Mona Orphelin looked up to the twinkling stars in the night sky. After that last bit of nasty business with her former crew, she ended up owing a lot of money to some very bad people. Her old crew left her at Bernadette, not wanting to have anything to do with her anymore. What the hell was she gonna do now? Broke, alone, in an unfamiliar place and in a whole lot of debt. Maybe she could find herself some honest work. Or maybe just any work. <br><br>Looking over her shoulder a sign reading "Flanagan's" caught her attention. A bar for sure, but was she able to get any information there? Maybe if she just flashed her wide smile and dashed her eye, she could find a captain willing to hire. Taking a deep breath she opened up the door to the smokefilled bar. Once inside her glance quickly directed her to the bartender currently filling up the glass of a woman sitting at the bar (Kaela). Noticing a free chair next to her, Mona walked up to the bar and sat down right beside her.<br><br>"Excusez-moi" she said aimed towards the bartender. "Ill have what she's having" she remarked pointing to the woman sitting on her left. As the bartender got the drink she turned her to the right to see if her prompt had gotton any reaction out of the drinking woman. "Monsieur, do you know of any captains looking for a crew?" she once more turned towards the man behind the bar.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kckolbe</strong> on <strong>11-06-2013, 06:57:37</strong>
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				<strong>Sebastien - Bernadette - Shipyard - Evening</strong><br><br>Sebastien returned the suspicious look, darting a glance over to the night guard as the rather odd young man approached.&nbsp; After all, based on his appearance, he was unlikely to be a businessman in need of a ship charter.&nbsp; <em>More likely interested in trying to rob me than anything.</em>&nbsp; Sebastien did, at least, have some insurance against that.&nbsp; Currently, all of his money was in Alliance credits.&nbsp; He knew, of course, that other forms of currency existed, and at times he had dealt with them, but Alliance credits were reliable and traceable, and Sebastien had never needed any other form of currency, given that his life had been spent on Core Worlds.<br><br>Upon being addressed, Sebastien turned to face him.&nbsp; He was no more comfortable with the situation than he had been before hearing his voice, but he was a gentleman first, and when one addressed a gentleman, manners dictated that one turned to face the speaker.&nbsp; Sebastien's eyes betrayed his mistrust, but he allowed the stranger to continue.&nbsp; He was soon feeling wise for having done so, as Ky had just presented Sebastien with a solution to his current situation.&nbsp; He was unsure what the man had meant by a "prentice mechanic," but he assumed he'd meant that he'd gone to a trade school offered by Prentiss Hall, a low-budget, but still accredited organization.&nbsp; He smiled inwardly as well as out, pleased with himself for having made the connection on his own and not having had to ask the potential employee.<br><br><strong>"Lovely!"</strong> he exclaimed.&nbsp; <strong>"I am, indeed, Sebastien Dulain, and you were informed correctly that I am currently in the process of searching for an in-flight engineer for the Andromeda.&nbsp; Perhaps you could accompany me for a tour of the ship whilst informing me of the supplemental details of your offer."</strong><br><br>He gestured toward the ship, taking a step in that direction.&nbsp; <strong>"I trust you've not yet had the opportunity to explore her?"</strong>
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>icecradle</strong> on <strong>16-06-2013, 22:35:15</strong>
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				<strong>Ky - Bernadette - Shipyard - evening</strong><br><br>Ky wasn't sure what he'd expected - suspicion, rejection, maybe a vague interest or sign of desperation... but this... Ky wasn't even sure what <em>this</em> was. He seemed so pleased, so happy, and Ky wasn't sure how to take that. It unnerved him. Why was the guy so enthusiastic? Dulain's words didn't shed much light on the situation, and Ky was having trouble following him. He decided, eventually, that the guy just seemed to be lacking a few marbles. Well that wasn't all bad. So long as he was a madman with a ship and a job on offer, Ky wasn't that picky.<br><br>"Mercy, you speak awful fancy," he muttered as he followed Dulain towards the ship, trying to translate the stranger's words as he did. Supplemental details? What in the 'verse was that? Shoving both hands into the pockets of his dark brown trousers, Ky cleared his throat to stall for time. "Well, in-flight engineer is exactly what I am," he began, "Plenty of experience on fireflies," he added, elaborating on the truth slightly. He'd been in a couple before. That counted, right? He was pretty sure his 'offer' should include his desired wages, but Ky wasn't sure about that area at all. His brother hadn't paid him and he had no idea how much was a decent or average wage for an apprentice. He expected it was something low, but putting a figure to it would have been a completely blind guess. "Wages are, uh, nee-goshable." He finally added, still trying to cling to the pretense that he knew what he was talking about. "An' I want occasional shore-leave." That was reasonable, wasn't it?<br><br>"You got any other crew yet?" he asked, raising an eyebrow at the other man as they approached the ship. 
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NiceTexasGuy</strong> on <strong>16-06-2013, 23:47:15</strong>
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				<strong>Mortimer - Still in Flanagan's bar on the outskirts of New Paris, Bernadette</strong><br><br>----------<br><br>Perhaps Mort had read too many stories and seen too many fictional accounts, but when the bartender denied knowing anything, Mort semi-discretely slid some paper money across the bar to him - a bribe for information.&nbsp; It wasn't as if he had a lot of cash to spare, but he had to at least get off planet before he could start making money as a reporter.<br><br>"Keep yer money, pal.&nbsp; I serve drinks.&nbsp; You want information, try the Cortex."<br><br>Hmmm, this wasn't going the way he'd hoped.&nbsp; He glanced at the mysterious door again, wondering what lay beyond and how one goes about getting in the first time.<br><br>Then, at the other end of the bar a young woman came in asking the same question, but less discretely than he did, only to get the same negative response.&nbsp; This was a bar, nothing else.&nbsp; <em>In a pig's eye it was</em>, but if Shmit wasn't inclined to share information with the unknown customers, there wasn't much that could be done.&nbsp; Bribery didn't help, and Mortimer didn't think physical threats would be of much use either.<br><br>The bartender did seem to be friendly enough to the regulars, though.&nbsp; That's probably what makes them regulars, right?&nbsp; Mortimer decided to hang around quietly and see if listening would yield more information than asking questions.<br><br>That was when an explosion rocked the city in the distance.&nbsp; Wait, was it an explosion, or just the sound of something crashing into something else?&nbsp; A ship wrecking at the docks?&nbsp; No, it sounded like it came from the other direction.&nbsp; Then another noise.&nbsp; It was definitely an explosion.<br><br>"Look, pal, you better get outa here." The partender was pointing to a crude handwritten notice on the wall behind the bar <em>"we reserve the right to refuse service to anyone"</em> - it was taped up there between the notices that coffee and tea was limited to one free refill, and the management was not responsible for power glitches affecting any of the pool tables.&nbsp; &nbsp;"In fact, everybody out.&nbsp; All of youse.&nbsp; The place is closed.&nbsp; Go on, get out.&nbsp; Now."&nbsp; He looked like he had someplace else to be, and anyone who wasn't moving for the door in the next few seconds would get a menacing look from a big guy holding a wooden club.<br><br>Suddenly, the regular customers were no more welcome than the strangers.&nbsp; Mortimer slammed down a bit more of the drink he hadn't wanted in the first place then headed for the front door.&nbsp; Finding himself exiting at the same time as the two women from the bar, he saw it had grown considerably darker than it was when he entered.&nbsp; Outside, there was some commotion with a few people pointing to the northeast (the city center was due north) where an orange glow could be seen.<br><br>Asking no one in particular but everyone within earshot, Mortimer said <strong>"What happened?"</strong><br><br><strong>**************************************</strong><br><br>Within two minutes, port locks will be activated preventing any ships from leaving the docks outside New Paris, and in three minutes, it would affect all ships on the planet.<br><br>In five minutes, an Alliance patrol craft will be hovering about 2000 feet above the scene of the explosions.<br><br>In ten minutes, official looking black mules filled with uniformed personnel (some in combat/riot gear, some merely in the regular working uniform) will be passing by rushing here and there.&nbsp; In the streets people will be talking about revolution, mass arrests, accidental explosions of hydrogen storage tanks, robberies of banks, robberies of food distribution warehouses, and of course, Reaver attacks.<br><br>The <em>Andromeda</em>, being one of the few ships on the planet, will be of special interest to the Feds .. as will a party of spacers (a derogatory term for people who choose that sort of life) especially if one of the party looks like he doesn't belong with the group.
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			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>kckolbe</strong> on <strong>23-06-2013, 17:21:45</strong>
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				<strong>Sebastien - Shipyard - With Ky</strong><br><br>Sebastien maintained his smile, unaware that the observation about his speech was anything more than intimidated awe.&nbsp; <strong>"Well, I make a concerted effort to always speak as would be expected of a gentleman of my upbringing."</strong><br><br>He nodded at hearing about Ky's exaggerated Firefly experience, continuing to make his way toward the ship.&nbsp; <strong>"Of course you have experience, I suppose that should be expected from a Prentiss Hall man.&nbsp; As for wages, perhaps we could manage an agreement in the vicinity of twenty-five to thirty credits a month?&nbsp; Of course, that would include shore leave when feasible.&nbsp; Currently you would be the only hire.&nbsp; Does that sound agreeable?"</strong><br><br>At the sound of the first explosion, Sebastien reacted instantly.&nbsp; Granted, that reaction was just to stand there and listen to the explosions, but it happened instantly.&nbsp; <strong>"What do you suppose that is?"</strong> he said at last.
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				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>NiceTexasGuy</strong> on <strong>10-07-2013, 21:23:20</strong>
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			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>On the streets of New Paris = the "bar" district</strong><br><br>Amid what felt like mass pandemonium to the Feds, they began rounding up everyone who "appears to be suspicious" -- a more daunting task in some parts of town than in others.&nbsp; Near the spacer bars and dives, pretty much everyone looked suspicious - either because most people who led that sort of life and visited those sorts of placed were just inherently suspicious looking, or because they stood out as suspicious for not looking like everybody else.<br><br>Like marriage to the wrong woman, it was a <em>damned if you do, damned if you don't</em> scenario.<br><br>The thing that made the Feds' job easier (if less effective) was that most of the ships were gone, and most of the people present were locals who had a ready place to seek shelter ... naturally, those who didn't know of a place to duck into and hide were the ones most likely to be rounded up for questioning.&nbsp; As one young officer accompanied by two men in riot gear approached a group of a half dozen suspicious characters (Anna, Kay, Mort, and three other former patrons of Flanagan's), it was evident they were about to be told to produce some Identification, if not taken "downtown for questioning".&nbsp; A mere thirty feet away was a convenient alley, dark and forboding, an alley with which none of them were familiar.&nbsp; Another alternative was to simply run in the other direction, which would give the Feds a clear field of fire.&nbsp; Funny how that works when the streets are unusually quiet and empty.&nbsp; Or, of course, they could simply comply with the officer's instructions.<br><br>One young man whispered "oh shit" as the feds suddenly appeared from behind&nbsp; a parked vehicle. "whadowedojacob?"&nbsp; "just stay calm and ..." and at that moment the one asking the question made a dash for the alley - followed by the one apparently named Jacob and the one who hadn't spoken.&nbsp; The two Feds in riot gear gave chase while the one in the officer's uniform looked unsure of himself and appeared to not know what to do, then continued his approach toward the group that didn't run.<br><br>==<br><br><strong>In the shipyard</strong><br><br>As Sebastien and Ky stood beside the ship engaged in contract negotiations, three vehicles approached at a fairly rapid speed.&nbsp; &nbsp;Speeding past the duo, they could see each vehicle was loaded with uniformed Federal troops.&nbsp; After the third vehicle passed, it suddenly came to a stop, then began backing toward them.<br>
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>CurvyKitten</strong> on <strong>14-07-2013, 22:15:14</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<div class="floatleft">(http://venus.provocateuse.com/images/photos/eliza_dushku_02.jpg)</div><strong>Name:</strong> Kaela (Kay) Luna Devora<br><strong>Location:</strong> Flanagan's<br><strong>Tagging:</strong>Mona ,Mortimer, Open<br>Wearing (http://www.polyvore.com/cgi/set?id=46188439)<br><hr><br>Kay's body was tense and ready for action, the sounds of up-roaring around them and then the sound of people scattering made her nervous. She didn't want to and couldn't afford to be caught. She groaned seeing the fed's at the end of the street. There was nothing else to be done, running would only give away the fact that she had a reason to run. Looking to those around her she was about to speak when the two younger men spoke up and suddenly ran for it. She cursed under breath and looked up as the other Fed came up and his buddies ran after the two runners. Thinking fast Kay relaxed her stance and stumbled a bit as the last man ran passed her. "H...hey." she said slurring her words on purpose. Looking back to the Fed she took a few shaking steps back. "What in de hell is happen?" she asked running her hands through her long hair. Purposely running her hand along her long neck and cleavage as she looked about to those that remained and then to the young federal agent that walked up to them.<br><br>&nbsp;"Well hello officer," she said in a sultry tone. Truth be told Kay was prepared to take down the fed and get the hell out of dodge. But if she could squeak by with a quick flirty tone and letting him get a handful she would. It was far easier to get away when they weren't already chasing you. " Can you please tell me and my fellow bar companions what in sam hell is going on? I wasn't done having a good time yet." she said pouting a bit as she tilted her head and looked over the man in front of her as if he were he next yummy snack. Part of Kay groaned in protest, but thankfully she had enough self control to keep that part of herself rained in.
			</dd>
			<dt class="postheader">
				Title: <strong>Re: The Andromeda Stain - our shiny IC thread</strong><br>
				Post by: <strong>icecradle</strong> on <strong>20-07-2013, 20:11:52</strong>
			</dt>
			<dd class="postbody">
				<strong>Ky - in the shipyard - with Sebastien</strong><br><br>Ky wasn't sure what Apprentice Hall was but he realised quickly there had been some sort of misunderstanding. But before he could set the record straight, Dulain started talking figures and unsuprisingly, Ky's desire to clear up the miscommunication vanished fast. He wasn't an idiot. If Dulain was going to offer him that sort of money, Ky didn't care what the other guy thought. It wasn't that he was a dishonest... just that, well... who in their right mind would turn down the opportunity to make a little credit? "Yes, very agreeable," he replied quickly, giving Dulain an honest smile. <br><br>A somewhat distant explosion ripped through the air and Ky jumped, his eyes flicking first to the entrance of the shipyard, then across to the rising plumes of smoke. "<em>Go shi! Nà shì shénme*?</em>" It seemed that Dulain was just as clueless though, and Ky shrugged. "no idea, probably nothing good." <br><br>His suspicions were confirmed when the sound of vehicles caught his attention and as he focused on the approaching vehicles, the unmistakable uniform of the feds leapt out at him. The sight made his stomach churn and already his body was twitching towards the nearest exit, wanting to run. Not a good idea. He may have been quick on his feet, but not enough to outrun them. "Shit," he muttered, looking over at Sebastien with a panicked expression, especially as one of the vehicles began backing up towards them. What now? He just had to hope that they weren't interested in picking up small time thieves and were focusing on whatever the explosions had been about.<br><br><br><em>(*Shit! what was that?)</em>
			</dd>
		</dl>
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