On Main Street


Sinh

The crowd seem to quieten down at your appearance, or perhaps just at the sight of your great shiny sword. Their general furour settles into a murmuring, restless tension as they seem unsure which of them, if any, want to incur your wrath. However, just as you're certain they're about to back down, one of the torch wielders near the back of the group, one with a particularly nasty black eye shakes his torch in your direction.

"How about you fuck off!?" he yells. [14 - 13]

"Yeah!" roars the equally mean looking bastard beside him.

This has a knock on effect upon the crowd and like ripples across a pond, soon they're all shaking their fists, weapons and torches in your direction. Despite your best efforts it seems like you might've miscalculated and that perhaps those Mighty Angry Locals [D10] won't be quite the pushover you expected.

Take a PP for the Jinx.


Nick and Sam

The cargo bay is in complete disarray, with the various items of luggage and crates of supplies spilled across the floor like discarded newspaper in the wake of a storm. The thick blast doors that separate the old cellblock from the rest of the ship are firmly closed and a big red warning light flashes above them.

"Gorram doors closed on us," comes a muffled voice from beneath a pile of crates, in answer to Nick's question. Barnabus Wolfe rises from the debris, looking a mite more dishevelled than how you saw him last. A thin trail of blood leaks from a cut on his eyebrow and one of the sleeves of his jacket is coming away from the torso. "And then we crashed, I take it?"

He wanders shakily over to the blast doors and raps on them again, the thick echoing bang reverberates through the cargo bay. He glances down at Sam's toolbox and shakes his head.

"Unless you happen to have a fusion cutter in there, I don't think you're getting through here. And even if you have one, it'd take hours." He wipes the blood from his face and looks from one to the other.

It doesn't take a genius to see that he's right. The control panel on this side of the door looks like it has been fried, there's no lights and no other obvious way of opening the gorram blast doors.

"But this is a prison ship, right?" he asks, suddenly perking up. "There's got to be central controls somewhere? Perhaps two of us should go and see if we can't find a way to open these doors while someone stays here and tries the brute force approach?"


Jo

The Doctor moves to a side cabinet and produces your clothes, you notice that someone has taken the time to wash the worst of the blood out and then fold them for you. Though there's no disguising the bullet-hole in the shoulder. She hands them over to you with a orange pot that rattles as you take it.

"Take one every four hours, any more frequent than that and you'll be in and out of consciousness. And de careful on that arm," she says and you can see the disapproval in the tense lines at the corners of her eyes and mouth as you wince. "You tear those stitches and you'll be in for a world of hurt."

She takes you by the elbow of your uninjured arm and guides you behind a screen in the corner of the room, then leaves to examine the odd occurrences outside.


Goldmund-Teller

The Sheriff stops short and stares at Gareth in outrage. You all might suspect, from the way that his hat is slightly askew and his eyes are ringed with deep, dark shadows that this is probably far from the best night that he's ever had. He opens his mouth as though to speak, once, twice, then looks from your group to the mighty pissed off folk gathering around the Captain. In that instant, all that anger slides away. He takes a deep, controlled breath and slips straight into his calm, collected and professional guise.

"You're right," he says [10 - 12], looking Gareth and Momo over. "I'm still not sure I trust y'all, but I'm gorram sure that I've got more immediate problems than the likes of you. I'll talk to them, for all the good that'll do."

Without a further word, he leaps up on a nearby barrel so that the crowd have a good view of him and he shouts out to the crowd.

"Listen, folks," he says and, this seems to once again reduce the roar of the crowd to a dull murmur. "I understand that tonight has been all sorts of disquietin'. And I understand that y'all are concerned that a bunch of outsiders has come and disturbed the peace of our town. But rest assured that if any legal recompense is owed, I'll be sure to bring the full weight of the law down upon anyone that's found guilty. You have my word."

Perhaps this might've been enough to convince them on any other night, perhaps if people weren't already close to breaking point. Perhaps if that one, lumbering oaf at the back hadn't once again raised his torch and opened his mouth

"Your word ain't worth shit, Sherrif!" shouts Russell. "That woman in your cell is a gorram murderer and you're just lettin' her sit there! It's time we took the law into our own hands!"

This proclamation is met with tumultuous cheers from the angry locals.

 

Chang Stevens- Doctor's Office

Chang looks on at the crowd with a bit of dismay, after recognizing their escape vehicle crash into town. This is..not good.
"On it." Because he is not paid to think. He is paid to talk pretty and look pretty. Which, in this case, means getting the doctor's cortex information to forward her payment. Or, barring that, some platinum to make things go smoothly and shiny, whichever the doc wants.

Looking at the crashed bird, Chang wonders what exactly was the series of events that lead up to a crashed ship. And then his thoughts immediately go to what's inside. "Sweet Buddha, I hope everyone is ok." It didn't seem like a particularly bad crash. Nothing was exploding. Yet.

And then his thoughts go to his own things on the ship, "My desk!" He cries out. All of the financials, the contact information, the passwords. Please be ok, please be ok.

 

Momo Phan - Main Street

Momo stared down the asshole who decided to speak out and disrupt whatever fragile peace might have been made. He stepped forward and slowly drew his pistol, making sure that the crowd could see it.

He cleared his throat and used the gun to tip his hat back slightly and stares down the crowd, daring someone to attack him before he's said his piece.

The crowd can see his Browncoat, they can see his pistol, they can see his attitude means business. Hopefully they would listen to what he has to say.

"People, if anyone gets to shoot that gorram woman. It's my boss. The one who y'know was shot. If you want to watch, we'll set up a show, but for now, let us fix this first" [12]

 

Nick King - On Mainstreet

Well. Maybe the current catastrophe didn't come from this Wolfe after all. Nick had honestly expected him to be the root of the crisis at hand, what with his earlier misgivings, but maybe Nick was just turing into a cynical asshole. Something to think about.

"Mr. Wolfe! You alright, sir?" Nick said, adopting a facial expression and tone of concern. "My apologies about the landing; some bastards came out of the black and tried ram us, then shoot us down. I thought I avoided that trouble, but then they fired heat seekers at us, and- well, the details don't really matter. Point is, I'm not sure what brought them down on us, but they won't take us by surprise again. Guess that's probably of little comfort at the moment, though. Is there anything we can do for you in the meantime?"

As Wolfe responded, Nick thought about what he said. He was right, of course. Their best shot at getting that door open was with the controls up in the cockpit. After Wolfe finished talking, Nick hovered over to the blast door and gave it as firm a rap as he could manage.

"Will!" he yelled. "You in there? You making it okay?"

Having gotten a response that appeased him that the kid was at least alive and in okay shape, Nick turned back to Wolfe. "You are quite correct, Mr. Wolfe. I think I'll go try my hand at that now. If you'd like to come with me, you're welcome to, although I'm afraid there isn't too much to see up there."

As Wolfe agreed, Nick's eyes sought out Sam's, and tried to deliver the unspoken message that his next words were more important than they way he said them. "Well, I guess we ought run on up then. I'm not sure if you saw the Captain running through earlier, but she's out there dealing with a veritable mob, and if I've learned anything in out in the black, it's that crew members should always make sure the rest of the crew isn't isolated too long. Bad things can happen if we don't check in on occasion, and it's been a long night so far!" Nick finished with a somewhat bitter smile.

Statement hopefully delivered, Nick hovered away with Wolfe at his side, back into the lift and up towards the cockpit.

 

Jolene Ang - On Main Street

I dress as quickly as I am able, taking pains not to jostle my shoulder any more than needed. At the end of it I still feel like I've run a marathon, but at least I'm not wearing that stupid backless gown any more. I know with a feeling of dread that creeps down the back of my neck that I'm not going to live that down any time soon, gunshot wound or not.

Either way, duty calls. While I trust Gareth and Momo to keep a calm head I can't help but think that this is going to be anything but shiny. Better to be there where I can keep an eye on things and do what I can to calm the situation. I doubt I'll be much use otherwise.

I ask the doctor for a sling and have her tie it around. I give her as sincere a thank you as I can at this point, before hurrying off to head outside.

I round Chang up as he's finishing the transaction that will take a hefty chunk of my discretionary funds and hustle him outside while trying to not be obvious about my using him for support.

We exit onto the dust filled main street and see the Manifest Destiny parked right in front of us.

"Well, at least I don't have far to walk."

The crowd surrounding it though is more of a problem. I spot Long wielding her sword as if it's a gorram plaything, doing her best to intimidate the crowd into silence. It won't work, I know, because mobs like this have an energy about them that is hard to dissipate. If even one person is willing to speak up it'll shatter the hold she has over them. I sigh to myself, knowing that this is going to hurt like hell but that I can't let myself show any weakness.

"Chang," I whisper. "If I look like I'm going to fall over, give me nudge. Don't be obvious about it. We can't afford to look weak here."

Momo speaks up then and I have my cue. I take a deep breath, let go of Chang, and start walking towards the ship. My gun makes itself useful as a walking stick.

The going is tough at first as the crowd refuses to budge, but then somebody recognises me and word begins to spread. I keep my chin held high, my face stony both to hide the pain I'm feeling and to present the idea that if anybody is in my way they had better move or feel my wrath.

The crowd begins to part slightly, giving me a route through to the ship and I push through those that don't get out of the way. Every step is a mountain, every body is a boulder. I keep walking.

Finally I break through to the front and take a deep breath of air that doesn't smell like unwashed bodies. I take a few more steps, placing myself on the ramp leading into the ship, and turn around.

The crowd has quietened a bit, though there are still a few murmurs. I raise a hand and they fall silent too.

(I spend a plot point to create the I Have Your Attention [D6] asset.)

 

Sam Bose - Main Street

Seems like today just gets worse and worse. There aren't any easy answers to find here and Sam's instincts tell him that they'd need their doctor.

As Nick finishes his piece, Sam responds. "You ain't half bad at this Nick, but just in case I'll start setting up to cut through door."

He pauses for a moment.

"Though I'd hate to cut into the Destiny."

Then he gathers his toolkit and begins prepping. If nothing changes he'll get to work. (11 + BDH is 15)

 

William Davis - Main Street

"Of course we're going to be alright Miss," he said with an encouraging smile, "Nothing to worry about. The captain will have us out in a matter of seconds."

Suddenly, they heard voices from the other side of the door. Pressing his ears against it, he managed to identify two to three people out there just before Nick started yelling for him.

"Ah Nick! We're a bit stuck here. Quite alright though, but stuck. We don't have much time before the air support is shut down. I tried to override the lock down, but I didn't have any proper tool and the control panel got fried with my attempt."

Hearing Sam and Nick discuss the way to get the door open, William grabbed the arm of their guest and drag her away from the door.

"Better be a bit further if Sam has to cut through that. "

 

On Main Street

Chang

The Doctor looks from Jo to you as you're given orders and jabs her thumb in the direction of her own secretary who's still looking a bit windswept and wide-eyed from the ship crashing into the middle of his town.

At this moment however, he seems to regain some of his professionalism and produces a small white piece of paper from a stack on his desk. He holds it out to you, so you can see the tight clusters of tiny blue dots that make up the printed information on it. You give it the once over and stop dead as you catch the figure that represents the total amount— How gorram much?!

All that for some bandages and painkillers? The sum you're looking at would be enough to buy a good-sized hospital.

The secretary catches the look on your face and with a tight expression, demonstrates with a pointing finger.

"Emergency medical treatment," he says indicating the first figure. "Out of hours rate," he continues tapping the next. "Unplanned restocking fee. Separate stocking fee for controlled substances. Narcotics tax. Off-world trade adjustment." His finger comes to rest on the final figure. "Federal subcontractor top-up charge. We take transfers or cash."


Momo, Gareth and Jo

They seem to take Momo's words, gun and bearing extremely seriously and their furor seems to die down again. Some of them even lower their torches, others looking a little disappointed by this turn of events. You get the sense that there ain't much to get excited about in Hidden Acres.

"He's got a point," says one of them. "She did get shot."

"Yes, she did," says Russell, and his voice carries in the quiet [17 - 12]. "But she ain't the only one.And she were the one that came in here and kicked up this ant's nest. If it weren't for you lot we wouldn't have none of this trouble at all!"

"YEAH!" shouts the man beside him.

It seems for a moment as though they're all going to burst into angry shouting again, until Jo enters their midst. A hush comes over them as she jostles her way to the front, eventually coming to stand beside Sinh.

The tension in their is so palpable and taught you could snap it with an old hoof pick. The crowd seem uneasy, now confronted with the woman in question and even Russell removes his hat and holds it to his chest when he sees Jo hobble up.

"Aw shucks," he mumbles under his breath and earns an elbow in the ribs from his companion.. "I ain't mean no disrespect."


Nick

Barnbus walks beside you and opts to travel up in the lift with you. You suspect from the way that he's moving that the crash has shaken him a great deal and despite the fact that he's pretending he's not hurt, you can definitely see a slight limp in his step. As the elevator moves off, he clings to the rain inside and rubs his thigh. He sees you've noticed and gives you a wry grin.

"Took a nasty fall," he said. "I think I might've given myself a dead leg—" and then he pauses, glances at your chair and hurriedly steps between the doors of the elevator as they open.

He turns in the direction of the cockpit but waits for you to catch up.

"I uh— I didn't mean anything by that," he explains, sounding awkward. "I actually meant to ask you about that—" he gestures to your chair "— once we'd taken to the sky. It's a really impressive piece of kit. I'm not sure I've ever quite seen its like."

Wolfe holds the door open for you as you reach the galley and despite the fact that he turns his face away, you can see the cringe evident on his features.


Sam

You prepare for cutting the door, laying out your tools and ensuring the line to your fusion cutter has no snags in it and to your immense satisfaction you find some strips of TH3 at the bottom of your bag, still in the small black case. You remember you'd bought them when asked by the Goldmund-Teller lot to find your way into a safe but ended up never using them for fear of damaging the contents. You reckon if you placed these strategically, in tandem with the fusion cutter, you'd half the amount of time necessary to go through the door.

You're just about finished setting up when you hear a shrill beeping coming from somewhere in the cargo bay. It doesn't take you five seconds to locate the object making it, lying beneath some of the fallen crates. It's small, black, metal and about the size of your thumb, resembling some sort of datastick, perhaps, though there's no obvious port on it.


William

Virginia shoots you a nervous, confused smile at your kind words. Perhaps if you were less worried by the situation you might think that is out of character for a woman whose only interaction with you so far has been to throw her bags at you when she joined the ship and to stamp her feet in frustration as she chased Sinh around the place.

But when you tug her away from the door, you feel her body collapse and sag against your arms. You're quick enough to stop her collapsing to the floor, but when you lay her down, your hand comes away from the back of her head slick with blood.

"Oh," she says, looking at it and blinking. "Isn't that peculiar?"

 

Jolene Ang - On Main Street

I wait until the crowd has hushed before I take out my badge and hold it in front of me, making sure everyone can see it, then I speak as clearly and as calmly as I can manage. Anger isn't going to do me any good here, no matter how pissed I am at the situation.

"My name is Jolene Ang. I'm a private detective for the Goldmund-Teller Agency. We were hired to locate an art thief known as Oberon, which I believe is the reason for the shooting last night. Now, I don't know why what happened last night went down as it did, but I can promise you this. I will find out and I will make sure that those responsible are brought to justice."

I take a deep breath. The walk, the stress of the crash and its aftermath, and all this talking is just sapping every bit of energy I have. I need to finish this quick before I fall over. I lean on my gun a bit more for support.

"This," I say motioning to the ship behind me. "Will not be a problem for long. I assure you all that we are just here to do our jobs and that any inconvenience we pose will be temporary, so if you could just go about your business we'll be out of your hair as soon as possible."

Another deep breath.

"My colleagues and I will be working closely with the local law enforcement," I say and nod towards the Sheriff. "So if anyone has any information regarding either the prisoner or the victim of last night's murder, I ask that you please bring it to our attention."

An idea occurs to me and I cast my gaze out over the crowd. I need to make it clear that I want this as much as they do. Unlike last night, however, I don't have to lie to make it happen.

"A reward of 50 credits will be available to anyone who brings information that leads to the arrest of those in connection with the theft."

(Influence roll - Social D6, Influence D8, I Have Your Attention D6, Honest Girl D4 for a PP. Rolled a 4 with 1 Jinx. Fuck this dicebot.)

 

Nick King - On Mainstreet

As Wolfe made his first verbal misstep Nick managed to suppress his smile, but only barely. Complaining about his legs in front of a man in a chair? Wolfe's high society friends would have run him straight out of town over that, if they knew. Still, Nick didn't mind. He'd much rather this than being treated like glass, and in Wolfe's defense it was a hard thing to ignore, especially at first. Besides, even if Nick thought his embarrassment was unnecessary, it really did seem genuine... Hell, he still didn't trust Wolfe, not really, but maybe he was a decent guy after all. Maybe. It was a little ridiculous to be suspicious of somebody on account of apparently being good at the tech things that he specialized in, Nick supposed. It wouldn't hurt to relax a little bit. The cynical side told him that he could probably get Wolfe to spill more if he engaged him anyway.

As he came to the decision to be a little less suspicious, he realized he was letting the man flounder in the awkward silence that he had created. Offering Wolfe the most genuine smile he had given him since the man boarded, he thanked him for the door and hovered through. As Wolfe caught back up, Nick opened conversation again.

"Ahh, you don't have to temper your words around me, Mr. Wolfe," Nick said. "It is what it is. I make the best of it that I can, and I like to think I get by okay. The pain in your leg probably isn't exactly giving my piloting rave reviews, but I think you caught us all on an off day," Nick finished with a slight chuckle. "Still, everybody is still in one piece, so there's that. When we get the damn boat off lockdown, though, the kid's a hell of a doctor. He can look at it if you want, make sure your leg isn't hurt too bad."

"As for my legs, I'm afraid I don't really have a cool story. Just Cuvier Syndrome, if you've ever heard of that one. I admit, I sort of doubt it. It's not lethal, and its extraordinarily rare, so no one ever really acknowledges that it's out there. Medicine is needed for people with "more pressing problems", they say. No time for cripples, and-" Nick visibly paused, calmed himself, and started speaking again. "Sorry, I can get a bit edgy about it. Had some bad experiences back where I came from. But regardless of how I feel about some of the more arrogant white coats back in the Core, I do understand their need to prioritize."

With a smile, he gestured down. "So I deal with it myself. That's where the chair was born from. It was just a junky wheelchair somebody left out on the street in Londinium once, if you can believe that. I was tired of getting sneered at by the the pompous bastards I was attending the academy with for shuffling along at a snail's pace, so I decided to speed things up. Little repulsor technology and a hell of a lot of tuning later, and I had a semi-functional hover chair. Semi being the operative modifier, in this case. Existing repulsor-tech wasn't really subtle enough for fine work like carefully steering the chair, so I had to innovate in a few places, but eventually I got it to do most of everything I wanted it to. It's served me pretty well so far, so I can't complain. One day, mabe, I can tackle the disease itself instead of just treating symptoms, but I'm just your poor, crippled pilot til then," Nick finished with a slightly bitter smile.

As they entered the cockpit together, Nick tried to take his shot. "How about you, Mr. Wolfe? I couldn't help but notice you were quick on the take with regards to this override station, but if you don't mind me saying, your bearing seems pretty fine for ever having spent time on a Hades-class before," Nick said with a grin. "So, while we try and sort this out, how'd you come to be here with us [6, +2 Jinxes]? Forgive me, I'll certainly refrain from prying if it pleases you, but I gotta admit, when I was told to stop here for a passenger, you weren't what I was expecting!"

 

Chang Stevens- The Doctors Office

Chang slowly tunes out the mess thats going on in the street. It sounds vaguely like there is less shoutin' going on, which is probably good. But Jo told him to get this bill settled, and these border hucksters are messing with the wrong bookkeeper.
Chang pulls out his own pen with blue ink, and starts itemizing the deductions that he feels are lacking.
"Well, first off, we aren't feds, so we can just cut that." He draws a line through the offending charge. "Second, you didn't include several important deductions. There is the legal deduction, for being an assistant in a criminal investigation, there is the federal emergency treatment and liability act deduction.." Chang continues talking, pulling every legitimate excuse as to why the bill is too gorram high.
Chang takes 1 PP for continuing to talk and talk and talk.

14 Influence Negotiations, with a Jinx.

Current PP-1.

He studies the man in front of him, noting the tired eyes, the 'i'd rather be somewhere else' look, and puts on airs of civility and reason. "You know, we can just do this the easy way, find a nice price we are both comfy with, and not wade through a hundred different itemizations. That way you can get back to bed at a reasonable hour, and we can deal with whatever is going on outside in a quiet manner." He smiles a tired, sincere smile at the man.
Jo is going to rip me in half with her teeth if I pay retail on this. We really need this price to come way down.

 

Momo Phan - Main Street

Momo glanced at Jo and the crowd, noting the outspoken idiot. He quietly shifts his arm to a more comfortable position and looks to Jolene, waiting on her signal. She mentions the credits and Momo steps forward, tossing a small change bag in his off hand.

The crowd can see the gleam of his pistol but their eyes follow the small change bag with a hungry gleam.

He casually walks up to Jolene who's hand is outstretched for it, he drops it in her palm. Jingling it a little to make the noise more obvious.

"50 cred ma'am. Just make sure I'm there to see it." [10](I rolled to try and help Jo's Influence roll)

He turns to the Sinh, "permission to come aboard ma'am. I want to check the armaments, make sure my grenades haven't gone and gotten themselves lost." He says it loud enough for the crowd to hear him, hoping to intimidate a few of them into leaving.

 

Sam Bose- On Mainstreet

Sam examines the black object in his hands, turning it over as he looks at it. Small, black and beeping.

It might just be paranoia, but he's pretty sure that nothing good is going to come of this thing. He looks at it closely trying to figure out what it is [17].

Sam doesn't spend too much time on whatever it is, but moves to the door to finish setting up.

"Not too long now," Sam says through the door. "Either Nick'll sort it or I'll cut through. Either way I'd take a step back if you can."

Then he moves over to the intercom. "How's it goin' up there, Nick? I'm all set to cut through on my end."

 

On Mainstreet

Jo, Momo and Gareth

A confused silence descends over the crowd as Jo makes her first proclamation, with people looking at their neighbours in a mix of surprise and bafflement. There's plenty of head scratching and whispering going on too. Even the Sheriff looks a mite bemused as she continues speaking.

They let Jo say her piece, though, but when Momo strolls across and hands over the purse, the troublemaker at the back jeers loudly [13 - 4].

"Next you'll be tellin' us that you're the gorram Reaver Queen come bearin' rainbows and puppy dogs." A couple of laughs accompany this, but the mood has gone too sour for his words to provoke much in the way of humour. "Oberon? Pull the other one, ma'am. This is just more government lapdogs come to stand on decent hard workin' folk like Tanner. Y'all should be ashamed. Well let me tell you, you might swan around like you own the place, but your credits ain't gettin' nuthin' out of me."

And with this said, he and the rest of the crowd turn their backs and slink off toward their humble abodes, muttering their agreement with his proclamations. The sheriff strolls over, thumbs in his braces and a wry grin on his face.

"Well I don't rightly know what the fuck that was," he says. "But I dare say you stopped 'em lynching your captain here. Of course, I don't fancy your chances conducting an investigation around this bunch of Uncooperative Hicks [D12]. But I'm sure you fancy core folk know best."

With that said, he tips his hat in the direction of you all and heads in the direction of the Sheriff's Office.

Jo, you lose a D10 BDH


Nick

Wolfe frowns in concentration, makes a small shrug and then gives you a wry grin.

"I can't say I'm familiar with Cuvier Syndrome," he says. "It's not a disease I ever came across during my work in the pharmaceutical industry, though my interests have never particularly sat in the area of medicine itself. I leave that to much better minds than mine."

He glances around the Galley as you pass through and you can tell he's impressed with the chandeliers, mahogany table and fancy drapes. He pauses to pick up a fork from the table and watch the light glint off it, you figure he's had plenty of experience with bonafide silverware, but doubt he was expecting to see anything as sophisticated aboard a boat like this. He puts it down carefully, not that it really matters, since the crash landing seems to have thrown nine-tenths of the place settings onto the floor.

"It's a really impressive piece of kit," he says again, gesturing to the chair as he follows you through into the cockpit. "I was telling Sam before that I'd done a bit of work like that in University. Not that I ever did much with it. The ingenuity required to achieve something like that is miles beyond my meagre capabilities. I never did have the knack to think outside the box in that regard. Language was always more my forte, I loved reading Shakespeare."

It doesn't take him long to hone in on the relevant security panel and he stand before it, examining it closely. There's a couple of red flashing warnings, on the otherwise black screen, he's just about to reach out and enter a command when you speak and he freezes. When he looks back to you, there's a slightly sheepish grin on his face.

"Well, the thing is," he says [15 - 6], sounding awkward. "My dad used to fly a boat of exactly this model." He gives a little, uncomfortable laugh. "You see I don't really come from aristocratic stock, my dad was a blue-collar stiff. You shoulda seen how proud he was when I got my scholarship. But like you, I realised that people were always going to sneer at me for things I had no control over. But instead of being a man about it, I saw it was an opportunity to reinvent myself."

He shrugs and gestures to the control panel, inviting you to have a go with it and steps out of the way.

"I'm not saying I'm proud of it. But, well, nobody gives a shit when you're Barney Walker. Yet the moment you're Barnabus Wolfe, everyone's falling over themselves to help you, offer you jobs, ingratiate themselves with you." He laughs again. "Someone was bound to realise I wasn't who I was claiming and of course, with my luck, it was always going to be the Triads, wasn't it? The next thing I know I'm being blackmailed for every penny and I'm being ripped off on hóu zi de pìgu planets like this one trying to buy them off."

He leans backwards against another control panel and flashes you a wry grin. "Let that be a cautionary tale to you. Never pretend to be something you're not."

Despite the fact that he's just admitted to being a complete fraud, and the fact that you're beginning to suspect that it was more his presence than Sinh's that brought the Triads out of the woodwork, you can't help but find yourself Trusting Barnabus [D8]. He seems like a decent enough guy, once you get past the whole lying thing and he's certainly being helpful with the whole Will issue you've all got going on.

Take a PP for that Jinx and lose a D10 BDH die.



Chang

The Secretary looks at you afresh [5 - 14], a little glimmer of surprise in his eyes. Evidently he'd just taken you as eye candy, but now he grins at you as though he's just found his life partner. He takes the print out and crumples it up and throws a perfect three pointer into the wastepaper basket in the far corner of the room.

"Listen, don't take that personally," he says, with an apologetic grin. "We're running a small operation here, trying to treat the local population who can't afford most of the treatment we provide. We're always looking to extract a little more from off-worlders who look like they can afford it in order to subsidise some of the poorer families around here. All above board, of course, perfectly legal— By some interpretations, at least. I hope you understand."

He takes a fresh piece of paper and does some quick arithmetic and then hands it over to you. The number is much, much smaller, but still more than you'd really want to pay. He sees your hesitancy again.

"Look, I know it's probably more expensive than you'd get treatment in the Core, but we've got to order drugs like that in from Ariel. If we don't get more couriered out to us pronto, we'll be short the next time one of the farmhands takes a kick from a bull. It really is the lowest we can go."

As you pony up, you can't help but think that perhaps your ledger is going to A Little into the Red [D6] for a few weeks.

Take a PP and a BDH die.


Sam

Glancing it over the once, you immediately realise that it's a GPS tracking unit. A really basic one. The closer you get, the louder it pings. If you had to make an educated guess, the loud noise you're hearing now is telling you that you're pretty close to whatever it is that it's supposed to be locked onto.

Not right on top of it, that's for sure. The spacing between the noises is too protracted, but you're in the general vicinity, though you can't be sure if it's bouncing off something inside the ship or outside it.

Take a D8 BDH.

 

William Davis - Main Street

Damn it!

Quickly, he grabbed her head in both hands, trying to keep it immobile. Not point in aggravating a concussion which it probably was. Hopefully, it was all it was but luck hadn't been with him so far today.

"Oi! Sam! Miss Anderson's injured. We might have to speed up the process a bit!" He yelled.

Trying to get a better view of the injury as they were wouldn't work. He scooted up closer, kneeling and delicately placed her head on his knees. Keeping her steady with one hand, the other one went to her scalp trying to feel for the gravity of the cut (13). Hopefully she didn't cave her head in. That'd be his luck right there!

 

Nick King - On Mainstreet

Nick nodded, utterly unsurprised. "Yeah, I figured. It doesn't make it more manageable for the handful of us that are inflicted, but it really is almost unheard of. There were a lot of doctors and more than a few credits thrown at it before anyone made the miracle diagnosis, and even when they did figure it out I had little more than a name. Still, if me and Will can ever get a handle on it, it'll have all been worth it!" Nick's face brightened as he said the last bit, momentarily heartened by the thought. "Till then, though, I figure my best bet is to tech up and deal with it."

As Nick moved into the cockpit proper, Barnabus began to speak again, first with more praise for his chair, and then telling Nick how he came to be here. There were some red flags in the story, Nick thought to himself. He claimed to have little tech experience, and yet Sam called the topics that they spoke about advanced, which was strong praise from the normally stoic mechanic. People who ran cons were always hard for Nick to trust, too; if for no other reason, then because it was damn hard to know where the con stopped and the real person started. Shit, an hour ago he'd have probably tried to have brought the man down and called the crew just upon learning that Wolfe might well have been the person who brought the Triad down on them instead of Long.

On the other hand, he had freely admitted that "Barnabus Wolfe" was a sham, even though Nick hadn't really made any insinuations about that. He seemed like a decent sort, and although a flatterer wasn't winning Nick's heart any time soon, it was nice to hear a compliment now and again. Besides, Nick had seen plenty of guys from University back on Londinium get tangled with the Triads, and not very many who managed to get out, so the story was easy enough to sympathize with. Poor bastard would probably run his whole life. And it's not like the Destiny and her crew were on stellar terms with the Mafia anyway... Ahh hell, he was a likeable guy, and if he was found out quickly by the Triad, surely the crew would be able to tell if he got up to anything on the ship? Maybe he could relax a bit.

"Damn man, that's bad luck with those Triads. I hate to hear those miserable bastards are aft-". With a buzz, the intercom crackles to life, and Sam lets them know that he's ready to cut the door open. Nick quickly hovers over to the terminal and mashes the button, replying "Standby for just a minute Sam, I'm just about to give it a try. If I can't get it opened, I'll radio you and you can start while we head back down."

Message delivered, Nick looks back at Barnabus. "Sorry about that," he says. "I do hate to hear about your troubles, though. Maybe the rest of this voyage will pass a little more peacefully, and you can get a rest. Where are we taking you to, anyway?"

While he waited for a response, Nick turned back to the panel that controlled the lockdown. Yep, Will had fucked this thing up royally; Nick honestly hadn't known that this level of lockdown existed. Nick just shook his head, then set to work [15, -PP].

 

Chang Stevens- Doctors Office

Chang nods as he pays, "Hey, I understand. But I'm going to do this as favor, you guys need help, and we can help. Your boss did good work on mine, so I appreciate that." Chang charges the credits through the cortex, glad that these guys are taking credits, they don't have enough platinum on hand to cover everything, and with how much Captain Sinh charges, they are going to have to solve this case mighty quick or
there will have to be some very interesting accounting done.

Chang moves out to the street and looks on at the gigantic mess of whats going on, and wears his confusion as clear as day. He heads straight to Jo, where he hopefully can do some good, or at least just be distracting.
"What can I do?" He whispers to her, hoping that the brilliant plan that he knows she has going on is going ok. Though he's not entirely sure why the plan calls for a crashed ship.

He looks over the mess of humanity, and puts on a big, polite smile, and looks as dumb as he feels, which at this moment, is fairly significant.

 

Sam Bose- On Mainstreet

"A GPS tracking unit. What in the rutting hell is a GPS tracking unit doing here?" Sam thinks to himself.

He follows the location of the pings while he waits for Nick. He's not gonna leave the ship or even wander too far off, but if whatever this thing is leading him to is aboard, then he might as well try to find it.

OOC: This is the last update I'm going to be able to make for the next couple of days.

 

Jolene Ang - On Main Street

I turn away from the crowd to walk into the ship and nearly stumble. Chang walks up a moment later and I grab him by the arm.

"Help me inside," I growl at him. "I need Will here now."

As he helps me walk I take a look back over the crowd, trying to find the troublemaker and memorise his details. He'd be one to keep an eye on if other avenues turned up short.

(Mental, Notice, Detective - Rolled a 10.)

I turn back to the ship, trying not to trip over anything that had been thrown loose by the crash and give a nod to Long as I pass her. Working up the effort to speak now that rest is so close is beyond me. I'd done my part, now is time for sleep.

We turn a corner into one of the corridors and I let myself relax. A moment later I'm unconscious.

 

Gareth Clark - On Main Street

As things proceeded in front of the Destiny, I lit up a cigarette and leaned against a pillar, keeping my mouth shut. Neither Sinh nor the sheriff could do much to calm the mob, it seemed. I was worried about it devolving into a brawl when Jo came out and gave her speech. Fortunately, we didn’t have to fight anyone. Unfortunately, the townsfolk were still a bunch of fools. I don’t know if I should’ve expected any better though.

As the mob dispersed, I kept my eye on the jackass from the saloon earlier, Russell. He was starting to become mighty irritating, and in a more serious way than just tossing a dart in my drink. I hoped that last outburst would be the end of it, but if he started interfering again we’d have to deal with him. I also took note of his mention of a “Tanner.” I didn’t recall hearing the name before, but apparently our presence was inconveniencing him somehow. It wasn't much, but maybe I'd look into it.

Once most of the mob had dispersed, I finally pushed myself off the pillar. “All this for a gorram painting,” I muttered, finishing the cigarette and stomping out the butt in the dirt.

Chang came out from the doctor’s office and headed up the ramp to help Jo into the ship, leaving me the only one out on the road. I looked back over the small town and thought about my next move. While there were plenty of things to do, most of them involved interacting with the locals in some way, and somehow I got the impression they weren’t too happy with us. I figured it’d be better to let them cool their heads for a little while, and if I was gonna do that I might as well join everyone else on the ship.

I climbed up the ramp into the Manifest Destiny’s cargo bay, nodding to Captain Sinh as I walked by (all I dared to do with her still clutching that sword), and was greeted with the sight of dozens of toppled crates, some of which had spilled their contents across the floor. Guess they hadn’t had time to secure the cargo before they lifted off. As I walked further in I thought about my own stuff in my quarters upstairs, but I didn’t think I had anything particularly fragile to worry about.

I also happened to notice that the passenger area was now blocked by a massive steel blast-door. I wasn’t an expert on ships, but I was pretty sure that wasn’t supposed to be there. A cutting torch had been set up outside the door, and Sam Bose, the ship’s engineer, was standing nearby with some beeping thing in his hand.

Sam was a decent guy. His mechanical expertise had helped us out on some previous jobs, and I'd had him look over my gun once before; he'd done more maintenance on that thing than it had seen in over a decade, I was sure. While he may not have been the most sociable of the crew (not like I could talk), I figured he was the safer option for answering questions over Captain Sinh.

“Hey, Sam. What the hell happened?” I asked, approaching him.