After many years of travelling, Baron Viktor Lowell's fortunes rose and waned. Unfortunately for the Baron despite his many successes he finds himself in financial jeopardy and his starship mortgaged up to the hilt.
With this months mortgage payment looming, he finds himself at risk of losing even his ship and as a consequence agrees to meet with two potential business partners at the planet of Wertreken II. He seats himself at the 'Belt Strap' a bar frequented by contractors and consultants from across the galaxy looking for work.
Kordau is angry and awesome, favouring the colour pink and floral dresses.
Settling down with his new business partners he staves off another months repossession by selling 4% of his ownership to both Kordau a grizzled freelancer and TC McQueen an ex-navy astrogator. Despite no longer having exclusive ownership of his starship, the Baron maintains his majority share and gets to keep on flying for a further month. When business is concluded and the rather important job of accessing the Belt Straps rather fine collection of aged Uisge begins, a rather flustered Tillen bursts in through the door. Apologising to the startled patrons she swiftly casts her eye around the room at the gathered freelancers. Something about the party catches her eye and she moves over ordering a round of drinks from the bar for the gathered party. She is clearly female, her body glove leaving little to the imagination. The outfit is smart, clean and professional, a hooked knife is belted to her waist along with a comm unit and a pouch of some kind. Probably a wallet. A shimmering cloak is attached by shoulder clasps.
Placated to by the swift delivery of beverages, the party makes a space for her at the table.
"Are you of the skills necessary to undertake an urgent investigatory task?” she enquires. Baron Viktor spreads his hands expansively and assures her that they are, much to the surprise of the rest of the party. The Tillen continues "I need your urgent help to resolve an extremely embarrassing situation. I am the astrogator of the honourable ship Open Path and humans call me Star. My ship has suffered the loss of an extremely valuable piece of cargo which may be due to fraud or theft – the exact conditions are not clear to me. This loss is not only financially painful but... also... dishonouring." She frowns deeply, her expression combining confusion, discomfort and perhaps anger.
"A local courier arrived at our ship just three hours ago with forms indicating he was to take away one
displacement ton of valuable spices from our hold. I and the senior ship’s officers were away from the ship, securing other deals. In our absence, a junior member of our crew – you may call him Rock – signed over the spice to the courier. I think he believed that as the forms were in order, perhaps our purser – you may call her Seer – had organised the courier." You notice her claws flicker out before she clenches her fists and clears her throat with a threatening growl, perhaps an instinctive reaction to her concern at the loss of the cargo.
"As soon as Seer and I returned to the Open Path and discovered this error, we contacted the courier – a human enterprise called BlinkOfAnEye in your language. They appeared to have forms filled in by our purser Seer to transport this spice to a Land-of-Spice in Wertreken II which we determined to be a restaurant serving local sea-derived foodstuffs. Unfortunately the BlinkOfAnEye had already delivered the cargo nearly an hour before we contacted them and have all the proper forms signed... yet the restaurant owner whom we then called denied all knowledge of the shipment and said his business premise was closed until later this evening."
She grimaces, showing a hint of sharp teeth.
"We called the port authorities but they say if the forms are valid and our own crew signed over the spices then
this is not a crime but rather a legal dispute and will involve the Guild law system since our goods are now
outside the extrality zone. Yet we called the Wertreken Prefect HQ and they cannot see that a crime has been committed either because they say there is no proof that the courier has only acted on our apparent instruction."
She shifts restlessly and waves one fully extended claw in the air as her voice rises in clear frustration: "Both these great entities seem unwilling to do more than consider opening an investigation, if we fill in many forms, pay a fortune in fees and wait a great time and then I still have no belief they would find anything of use. Only 50 years our family fought alongside the Guild in the Exodus Wars and were lauded as heroes! Now we are deemed an annoyance when ask that Prefects do there job and investigate a matter of missing cargo."
Her claw slices through the air in an angry gesture. "Understand that we feel they show us great disrespect.
To lose this cargo is great dishonour. It must be recovered, by whatever means is necessary and as quickly as possible. It is with this task in mind that I have sought out investigators such as yourselves…"
The Baron glances at his compadres and nods. "I believe this is a matter in which we could assist, although there is the small matter of compensation for the many business expenses such an investigation is likely to incur."
Star grimaces "Of course, I am familiar with the human love of coin. I can pay you 400 credits now, that is 100 credits each to cover your expenses, then a further 4,000 credits for the successful recovery of the cargo. I will pay you an 800 credit retainer for each day you are working on this case."
As she leaves the table to procure another round of drinks. The party consults each other and discusses the case. Kordau grumbles at the low wages, "4,000 credits is barely enough to buy a pair of Gauss Rifles. Let alone pay the mortgage."
The Baron waves his hands dismissively "As long as the case is cracked within a week we are in profit dear boy, anything left over will be a bonus. It's simply a more convoluted case of fetch and carry."
"We are working for furries now? I don't like it. You can't trust aliens." Sneers Dom.
TC McQueen nods his assent. "Besides, there are no other jobs about. Lets just go and recover the cargo."
Star returns to find the party smiling benevolently at her. "Star, we accept your terms but have a few questions first." Star grins happily at the party, exposing her sharp teeth and slaps her chest with both hands in a traditional Tillen expression of glee. "Excellent! Please makes whatever inquires of me you need."
The party remained at the Belt Strap for another drink before departing to begin their investigation. The first port of call was the courier company 'BlinkOfAnEye'. After traversing the Wertreken II underground system successfully they arrived at the courier company. Taking a ticket they calmly waited inline and got to be exposed to the general populace of Wertreken II, being a belt mining colony this isn't an entirely agreeable situation but thankfully after 30 minutes they are called up. The Baron requests an audience with the courier who made the delivery, handing over a data wafer containing the shipping request and invoice. After consulting the papers, the clerk reports that all seems in order and the shipment has been completed successfully. Sighing the Baron asks to see the manager, quickly realising that the clerk had little to offer the group. Another 20 minutes passes before the manager appears.
The manager appears to be an average, down-to earth guy wearing the standard dark green, one-piece jump suit typical of BlinkOfAnEye, with an animated eye on his front that blinks and then shoots off to one side. It repeats with annoying frequency – since it’s out of his eyeline he doesn’t seem to notice initially but then apologises, rubs a patch on the jump suit and the thingy stabilises. A name tag on his front shirt introduces him as Folim Jones. "What can I do for you folks?" he asks as genially as possible with a fixed customer-facing grin.
The Baron wields his charms like a weapon, calming requesting that he be allowed an audience with the courier who made the delivery. The manager maintaining his smile politely declines. "You must understand that our couriers are out all day making deliveries. It is corporate policy to handle all customer requests here at the office rather than involving the couriers. They haven't be trained to deal with the general public." Quickly ascertaining that Folim wasn't willing to budge on the matter, the Baron instead focuses on the paperwork. Getting copies of all the relevant papers he runs over them with a practised eye. Swiftly noticing a few discrepancies he thanks Folim and beats a hasty retreat. It turns out that apart from some amateurish admin errors on the form (including Rock accepting liability for customs fee's of 160k) the cargo is actually less spices and more Hex. A form of narcotic drug which is directly injected into the spine delivering euphoria and mild hallucinations to it's user. Legal on Wertreken II it is never the less illegal in most other Guild colonies. The four 0.25 ton crates of hex have an estimated street value of one million credits. In other words, a full 18th of the parties starships value. Plotting immediately begins, though becomes slightly curtailed once a swift bit of research on the EtherWeb pulls up information on the Open Path's owners. A very powerful trading magnate who fought in the Exodus Wars. In addition it appears that the person who signed for the hex used the Nome deplume of a famous holo movie star. None other than Flint Stallion, who is unlikely to be taking orders for 'Land of Spice'.
The party then descended on 'Land of Spice' a restaurant in the docks, part of a chain that serves pre-processed food aiming at the mining communities budget level. In some colonies it would be almost be classified as food.
The maître Dee appeared to guide the party to a table when TC McQueen demanded to see a manager. When questioned as to the purpose of his request he responded with death threats. Further proving exactly why the Baron was best suited to communicating with the general public. The maître Dee retreated and the Baron managed to get themselves seated by a second maître Dee who was more congenial about fetching the manager. The Baron employing the old trick of pretending to be friends of his. The manager arrived, his pasty face sweating. He see's the party and his face goes white. "You are here about the gambling debts aren't you?".
"Maybe you should take a seat… Torpin." The Baron swiftly taking advantage of the confusion and getting his name from the badge on his suits front. "You understand the serious nature of your situation don't you?".
Torpin's shirt is growing visibly damp as he starts to panic. "I can have the money to you next week, I just need a bit more time, I've got some serious wins coming my way."
"Torpin, Torpin, dear boy. If you want us to wait then you are going to have to help us out with a small favour. Take a seat." TC McQueen and Kordau guide him to a spot between the two of them. Passing over the shipping receipt. "You see a delivery was made to your restaurant. It contained cargo that is very interesting for us." The Baron smiled "We know all about your hex trading Torpin, oh yes, we know everything."
Torpin looked genuinely bemused. "Hex trading? We don't sell Hex here, head office would never allow it. We have a strict no drugs policy here."
TC McQueen gripped him by the throat, "Tell us what you know Torpin or I'll… I'll…" TC McQueen grabbed a pen from Torpin's top pocket. "Kill you with this pen!". Torpin's eyes went wide.
"I'm promising you, we have had no hex shipments, we don't trade hex, I wouldn't even know where to get hex on this planet." Looking down at the shipping receipt Torpin looked even more confused. "That is after hours, there is never anybody in the restaurant at that time… Well, maybe some of the cleaning staff, but they aren't authorised to take in deliveries."
"TC put him down." TC reluctently consented. "Torpin, tell me, does your restaurant have security cameras?" The Baron inquired.
"Why of course, they were upgraded last week. I'll show them to you, they are controlled from my office." Torpin got up and the party stood as one. "No, no, not everyone. I'm not going anywhere with that psychopath!" Torpin shifted away from TC McQueen. "Just you Baron, just you."
"I'd love to cede to your wishes Torpin, but that just isn't how it works. I tell you what, TC and Kordau can wait here, my guard Dom will have to accompany us though otherwise he'd be failing in his job."
Dom, Torpid and the Baron entered the office and watched the tableaux unfold on the screen. The courier arrived, banged on the door. The only person present was a solitary cleaner who ignored the courier for a time concentrating on mopping the grease stained floor until curiosity got the better of him. A brief conversation occurred between the cleaner and the courier which unfortunately wasn't audible. Never the less, the couriers facial expression wasn't hard to read, he must have felt like the luckiest man alive. Signing for the shipment, the courier deposits the four 0.25 ton crates outside the restaurant and moved on. An hour later, a swarm of dock workers arrived wearing leather jackets with the icon of a sharks face and armed to the teeth with s motley assortment of weapons including harpoon guns, slug pistols, crowbars and knives. They swiftly disappeared with the hex.
The Baron exhaled with a deep breath. "We are going to need all the personnel files on that cleaner. As for the gambling debts, we need something for our time. How much cash do you have on you?"
Torpin pulled a data wafer from a drawer and 37 credits from his wallet. Baron Viktor sneered at the 37 credits and returned them.
"Don't bother, take your money and run. Run and don't stop running. People are coming for you, bad people." The party left Torpin as he broke down in his office.
Using the data wafer it didn't take the party long to track down the cleaner who was less Flint Stallion and more Harold Frix. An ex-con who secured a job at 'Land of Spice' as part of his parole. When ringing the door bell failed, Kordau employed his boot to smash through the door. A naked Frix was found gibbering to himself. A woman with a scarred face appeared behind the party.
"That man tried it on with me! Said he wanted to blow his seed into my melon bush! I want him to know that I've reported him to the Prefects! Filthy drug addict!" Kordau smiled and then propelled the woman out of the apartment with a suitable level of force. The Baron threw Flix in the shower after failing to communicate with him in an attempt to sober him up. Dom and Kordau tore apart the apartment with Dom pocketing a bottle of cheap Uisge and a slug pistol. Kordau joined TC McQueen and the Baron in the bathroom.
"Looks like the idiot smashed open some of the hex pins and poured the contents into a bottle of moonshine Uisge. We won't get much out of him."
As the water cascaded onto Frix, he ranted "Water? Are you a shark like me?" He attempts to pull Kordau into the shower with a drunken lunge and is swiftly tossed back in.
At that point the Prefects arrive. They storm the building with shotguns aimed. The party swiftly back up against the main rooms wall and raise there hands. Helmet sensors scan them and for a tense moment they stare into shotgun barrels.
"ID checks out, they are off worlders. Get out. Your presence here has been logged and may be used as evidence against you in future cases."
A voice booms out from the shower room.
"Harold Frix, this is your third infraction against an employee of the Guild within six months. Your family may contest our sentence at a later date with form A1-008, you however will not have that option." A shotgun blast rings out. "Please note, that sentence was passed at the time of 20:04. Moving to a disturbance in sector 7. Case ID AK:458861. Patrol move out."
With that, the party was left along with the headless corpse of Frix. The Baron swiftly took a few photographs of the corpse and the party left to investigate the Sharks. TC McQueen having deduced that Frix was describing a gang of some kind.
Kordau investigated in the street successfully discovering the location of the Sharks territory after a few minor (and near fatal) mishaps. The Baron comm's in to the Open Path requesting armed assistance. The Tillen access the parties ship and manage to take equipment from it to them under the noses of the Prefects. The party then walks into the nearest bar in the Sharks turf and demands to see the Sharks leader. Kordau waits outside in full armour with Dom who has twin slug pistols and TC McQueen who is wielding a slug pistol and a stun tonfa with a spare tonfa in his belt.
The Baron idles up to the bar and manages to get himself involved in a hostage situation. Kordau enters to the horror of the bar's patrons.
"I'm not a Legionnaire, no, I'm just a man who is hard enough to kill a Legionnaire and steal his battlesuit and rifle." For some reason, that didn't seem to reassure them. When Rock and Catch appeared behind the bar with slug pistols against the bar keepers head, the Sharks in the bar took their guns away from the Barons head. Who responded by glugging vintage Uisge from the ship brought by the Tillen.
The Sharks led the party to their leader Finsbury at his headquarters, a grimy bar called 'The Surf'.
