"They can't hit us with anything large enough to destroy us that close," Swims-the-Black says to Max. "One-Ton restocked our decoy drones at the shadowport, so we'll have a chance even if they do decide to open fire once at range. But yes, that possibility has been at the forefront of my thoughts. Was there not a plan involving some of your direct-fire warhead weapons?"
---
"That bitch put a hole through our paycheck and got more than half the people on this ship killed," the shipmaster spits. "She just had to go look your man up on the local network, then she and her fuckbuddy Harlon just had to go for the bounties. Ngawai Lea Holoni is trouble, kid - I'd space her if I were you."
Curiosity gets the better of Arketta and she checks the group's entry in the Imperial Kansatai alert network. The Kansatai they ran afoul of on Botane must have been keeping visual records - the entire group is listed as "Priority Offenders". There's a standing directive from law enforcement to capture, not kill, the group. However, a conflicting missive from military channels indicates only two prisoners are required. On top of it all, bounties are posted - a whopping 75,000 lats for Hugh Verrill; 75,000 again for Max Kilgore. 50,000 for Luis Stanhill, Semo Putupu, Angel Riviera, Irving Mellish, or Charles Taylor, 20,000 for any other accomplices-
Wait. Your names are listed - well, as close as they can get with Imperial glyphs. How do they know your names?
Davis looks over the screen, then turns to Arketta. "Bring up her file, then we'll start erasing logs," he tells her in English. He looks back at the shipmaster. "Yeah, but you don't get assigned babysitting duty like that without being very good and then doing something very bad. What's her story?"
Luis glides the Morningstar in within the assault ship's weapons range. Still no target lock. It's still just a silver glint, but it's a glint visible to the naked eye now and it's growing fast. Luis throws a little too much into the impellers but comes to a rough but serviceable stop relative to the Imperial ship. It'll take a few minor corrections to get close enough for boarding.
*Expansion Vessel V889 'Solitary Hunter' to freighter 'Morningstar', maintain your course and prepare for docking.*
Max isn't picking up any other signals coming from the assault ship. Either he doesn't know how to work the console, the repairs didn't go as well as he thought, or this exchange might actually go as planned.
Meanwhile, Semo doesn't remember putting Queen on his iPod, but given that any musical device left unattended with end up with Queen on it at some point, he's not surprised. Yero dubs the Flash Gordon theme song "not bad", and Mellish - who's tearing into MREs to replenish energy lost from regeneration - just about chokes on a bout of sarcastic laughter.
"I don't recognize the language," Yero adds, "and I don't recognize the music. From where do they hail?"
---
Ngawai Lea Holoni's file opens to a fairly recent image of her. 35 years old, with only a week or two of time dilation built up between her age and her actual birth date, Ngawai's record starts on the holy planet Sambasan. She excelled at her education and graduated into the Kansat itself. A rather spotty service record sports several demotions for unauthorized initiative and non-standard procedure. While the Turai's smallest unit is a trio, or Trin, the Kansatai still operate in pairs, like Earth cops. Ngawai was greviously wounded and her apprentice/partner was killed during a blown raid on a Master-artifact smuggling ring. She refused kauka treatment, left the Kansat, and the next time she shows up in the record it's eight months later where she's mentioned as a suspect but not convicted or pacified in connection with several dead artifact smugglers. Davis figures if it's anything like the LAPD, she was probably a cop who "got things done" and her boys covered for her.
In her late 20s, she became a licensed Apprehender of Brigands - a bounty hunter - and began working with one Harlon Vib. This was before Malenko. Bounty hunting is not that lucrative, and when it is, it's terribly dangerous. Ngawai and Harlon pull in a fairly sizeable amount of wanted men, woman, and aliens - and Davis is sure there are a few that weren't officially tracked by Imperial records. There's no mention of how they met Malenko, but for the past four years their locations coincide. The bounties drop off in frequency but don't disappear altogether.
The shipmaster's willing to fill in some of the blanks while the two vessels slowly dance toward each other. "They met Lady Talia by chance four years ago. They were after a shipkid geneist - supposedly this guy was implanting the stock with coded transmitters wired to their eyes and ears. They'd tightbeam back their vessels' cargos, destinations, the whole bit, and then this guy'd sell the data to bandits, other shipmasters, whoever. They nabbed Lady Talia during the raid and they saw early retirement, what can I say? Bodyguarding an Expansion officer, even in a shadowport, well, it ain't hard. And they could bring her in at any time, but Malenko had money, a ship, and an excuse to go just about anywhere. It was... symbiotic."
The shipmaster tilts his head - another vox - and says to the air, "Negative on grapplers. Let the autos handle it." Then back to Davis and Arketta. "We're on docking approach with your ship. Get the logs wiped."
Speaking of the logs, there are several events of interest:
1. The ship's next destination would have been the planet Lor - indeed, the assemblers that once littered the Morningstar and now clutter the assault ship's hold are meant for the research facility there. There are apparently semi-sentient quasi-humanoid aliens as well as a massive amount of non-Master, non-Imperial ruins scattered amongst the volcanic archipelagos. Of particular note is mention of a Gateway there that refuses to respond to any known Imperial Gate codes.
2. Lady Malenko visited her family home on Napai a few months ago. Unfortunately, any direct access to the Malenko hab died with Talia, but the logs give some small glimpse into the overwhelming security that blankets the Imperium's capital planet. (I'll have to do this OOC if you're interested)
3. A 1-year followup contact was made with the colony on Vouskiano. Atmosphere processing is estimated at 33%. Filter masks are required for certain toxic trace elements but pressure and temperature are within parameters. Recommendations made to embed Keeper operatives as new colonists and technical personnel - Vouskiano is showing signs of Homeworld cultism.
Davis takes mental note of the logs and Ngawai's file. "Delete that last interesting one when you wipe the logs," he tells Arketta in English. "Logs are getting wiped right now," he tells the shipmaster. He extends his hand to shake. "Well, I can't say it's been fun, but you seem like a reasonable guy, and I hope we can meet again under less...confrontational circumstances."
(OOC: Always looking for more info, you know that. )
"They can't hit us with anything large enough to destroy us that close," Swims-the-Black says to Max. "One-Ton restocked our decoy drones at the shadowport, so we'll have a chance even if they do decide to open fire once at range. But yes, that possibility has been at the forefront of my thoughts. Was there not a plan involving some of your direct-fire warhead weapons?"
"I'd like to tell you that we had an equally good plan going into this exchange, but then I'd be talking completely out of my ass. We're winging this one, Captain. If you've got a god to pray to, put in a good word for me too." replies Max, watching for any treachery on the scanners.
Arketta's fingers dance over the holographic controls as she searches for the right commands. She unfurls actual physical controls from the crescent-shaped console, flips a number of toggles, then steps back as the console goes dark. A few seconds later, its blue "running lights" softly illuminate the network chamber once more.
"Done," she announces.
"Until that day, then," replies the shipmaster, only now accepting Davis' hand. "Take them down to the lock, get 'em suits if they want, and get 'em off my ship," he barks at the guards.
Davis tightens his grip on his rifle on the way down to the cargo bay. If it's going to go sideways, this is where it'll happen. "Stay sharp," he says to Arketta in English.
Finding something by Queen on his iPod, Semo grimaces, but plays it for Yero, who seems to think it's okay. "It's from my home planet actually. It's called Earth. Way out on the fringe."
"Here's a couple more I'd be interested in your opinion of." He'll play Duke Ellington's "Take the 'A' Train" and Wagner's "Ride of the Valkyrie", which Semo sometimes listens to before a battle.
"Erth," Yero repeats, mentally filing that away. It turns out he likes both of Semo's next selections, while Kemba is less of a jazz/big band fan.
Soon, however, and with Luis' tense, sweaty hands gingerly applying minute changes to the Morningstar's position, the assault ship and the freighter lock together. A bassy whoom thunders through the cojoined hulls.
*Yero. Kemba. This is Kai,* the shipmaster voxes. *Status?*
"We're both here, shipmaster," Yero states, with Kemba adding her own affirmative.
*Get to the airlock, we'll put the freighter crew in ours and you just walk past each other. Understood?*
"Understood," Yero repeats. He and Kemba lift the crasher harnesses and stand up. "We're to enter your airlock and swap with your own crew," he says.
---
Davis doesn't hear the shipmaster's commands as the guards - one in front, one behind - lead him and Arketta back down the steps and down a short, well-stocked emergency suitlocker room. The primary airlock's inner door is transparent, and looks in on a white but dimly-lit room with many handholds and latchpoints in its walls and ceiling.
"Suit up if you're worried," one of the guards barks. "Else get moving." He palms the inner door control while the second guard watches from the suitlocker doorway. The door cycles and the airlock lights glow brighter. Green and blue glyphs indicate a solid seal between the vessels.
"Well, if anything's going down...here's where it starts. You might want to have those drones ready to deploy if/when the Turai decide we're too easy of a target not to fire upon." says Max to Swims-the-Black.
Davis suits up and waits for Arketta to do the same. He keeps his eyes on the faces of the guards, looking for the slightest twitch that would indicate that they're about to be screwed over.
Semo will continue trying different musical types based on the feedback he gets from the two visitors. They don't seem bad sorts, so no reason to make this situation unpleasant.
The two ships dock together and the orders come through. Semo says goodbye to Yero and Kemba, then steps over to Angel. "Meet me at the airlock with the remaining AT-4s, just in case." He then follows Yero and Kemba to the airlock to see that they get safely off the ship and Davis and Arketta return.
The guards don't give any indication they're anything other than impatient and frustrated at the loss of their comrades. But they don't seem outwardly treacherous. It takes a little while to suit up, since they're taking turns in order to ensure at least one of them has their weapons at hand at all times. Finally Arketta and Davis are in tight-wrapped supple black vacuum suits, similar to Ngawai's minus the armored carapace and bullet holes. Their clear bubble helmets don't fog and don't glare. Davis and Arketta step into the Solitary Hunter's airlock. On the other side, Kemba gives Semo an honest smile in goodbye while Yero just nods. They affix their black helmets, opaque from the outside, and step into the Morningstar's lock.
The inner airlock doors slide shut, a few seconds later the minimal pressure difference between the two ships has been matched, and the outer doors cycle open. Each duo sees a near-reflection of themselves, save for the rifles on one side and the stingers on the other. Yero and Kemba take a tentative step towards their own vessel.
Yero and Kemba take larger strides as they pass, quickly entering their own airlock and cycling the outer door. Arketta cycles the Morningstar's doors while Davis finally lets himself mentally shake off the last 30 minutes. Semo and Angel's AT-4s are both comfort and grim reminder that those rockets are the last of their kind in Imperial space.
Luis, Swims and Max get the assault ship's response over the vox. *Our people are secure, locks are sealed. Disengaging... now.* There's a higher-pitched wa-tang as the docking clamps disengage. *We're leaving; don't follow us, don't contact us. Get within 2 light-seconds of us after this and we open fire.*
The Morningstar shudders as the Solitary Hunter's impellers buffet the freighter. The Imperial assault ship lifts up into the Z-axis and arcs around for a steep intercept towards the Jang-xur Gateway. Thermal sensors alone pinpoint at least a dozen ships doing the same, all spread out in a ragged line between the shadowport and the Gateway in its lonely orbit around the dwarf star.
Admiral Duck Sauce
) 
