Location
Starsystem: Akhustal system
Planet/moon: Planet Taxore
Place: The Dauntless

There are moments when you reflect upon the big decisions you have made in life. Especially when you are indebted to the largest crime syndicate of the known universe and payday’s coming up. The truth of the matter, every 3 months this same problem had arisen for the time since Evren had bought the Dauntless. Borrowing money to buy a ship was easy enough. The hard part was gathering a crew and making a profit.

The crew part he managed to more or less figure out. However the profit part had become a bit of a challenge. Jobs didn’t come easy and those he could find were barely paying more than the operation expenses. Getting the coin to pay back the triads had proven to be more difficult than anticipated. Time until the next payday was running out and his wallet was as dusty as the deserts of Taxore. The captain needed a job that would score big. A job that would get the triads of his tail for the time being and he was quite desperate to get one. In fact, Evren was desperate enough to commandeer the Dauntless towards the planet Taxore.

Through the windows of the bridge the yellow deserts of the planet Taxore where clearly visible in between the blue oceans as The Dauntless quietly made its rounds around the planet. From geostationary orbit, the planet looked peaceful. However the truth is that Taxore is infamous for its lawlessness.

Planet Taxore is a curious case of of what happens when Megacorporations fuck up and leave a planet due to its lack of profitability. What big corporations find unprofitable becomes often highly desirable for all kinds of people that search out lives far away from the crippling confinement of institutions. Even if that live is in the harsh desert climates of Taxore it did not discourage a mixture of scoundrels, vagabonds, lowlifes and other opportunists to seek out a life on the desolate sands Taxore and especially its biggest spaceport city of Kharak Town. A place where profit loomed for Evren and his crew.

Before making its descent to the surface, captain Evren had summoned his crew to the bridge for a short briefing. For a moment he looked at his crew and wondered if they were ready for the job he was willing to take on. Flying a ship is one thing, doing a dangerous job was another. Considering who put the job up for offer, there was no doubt in the fox’s mind that it would be dangerous.

”Got a lead for a job people. Ever heard of Fat Pig? He’s a merchant. Or at least that is what he calls himself. Fat Pig basically deals in all kinds of less than legal cargo and is currently looking for a ship to pick up some merchandise from god knows where and deliver it to him. He’s a dangerous fellow but he pays well. We’ll be meeting him down there in Kharak Town. Any questions so far?”

Fat Pig was the street name of Vladimir Petrov. A notorious dealer in illicit merchandise that ran his operations from Kharak town. He was infamous for his gluttony, huge size and brutal violence that he unleashed on anyone that double crossed him. Some even whisper that Petrov eats his enemies raw. Needless to say that Fat Pig has a reputation that is well known in the Frontier. However, what is also well known is that those who do their jobs well get solid rewards. That makes the man a bit of a double edged sword. You can earn good coin with the man but when things go sour, he unleashes hell. Evren wondered if any of his crew would have reservations regarding doing jobs for Vladimir Petrov.

Luck hated Taxore. Infamous for it's crime and extreme weather. He had no issue with the first part: wherever crime was money followed. But he had a particular bone to pick with bad weather. It was hard on him, and it was hard on his ship. And he was yet to ascertain whatever they were doing down there was worth him having to pick sand out of his radiators for the next few months. He had been on bridge duty for the last 48 hours subjective time, with the other crew members popping in and out to offer their help. It wasn't strictly needed, but it helped him feel at ease to stop any possible surprises. Either way he was unfazed, he would do what he had to to ensure the Dauntless and him got where he needed safely, and in the process he'd raher have some extra hands spare than not. He had made sure the Captain's orders were carried out to the quality he wished. With a stable orbit round the dusty brown sphere dubbed 'Taxore' he had made doubly sure they were high enough up in case they changed their minds and pissed off somewhere else. He certainly wouldn't complain.

He quickly took stock of the ship's registered of inventory. They would last a few more days, but they might need to restock on fuel sooner than he had hoped. He quickly computated the weight of their cargo. Nothing worth worrying about, even counting the unregistered 30 kilograms of Splinter he'd left scattered throughout the superstructure of the Dauntless. Splinter was a nasty substance, both an inert precursor to an illegal explosive often used by anti-corpo extremists, and also a highly addictive performance drug favoured by armed personnel, engineers, labourers, and pilots alike. It was known for it's motor and cognitive improvement skills, as well it's reputation for violently killing people that aren't careful using it.

None of that particularly bothered Luck, but he what he was worried about was that he had yet to be able to sell off his 'personal investment'. He'd acquired the stock at a legendarily low price a few months ago. He'd bought it as a backup in case the new ship's new owner turned out to be incompetent. He still wasn't sure of the Captain completely, but he seemed to capable so far. Even so, Luck intended to invest in some new parts for the ship, but he would only be able to do that if he wasn't caught trafficking 30 kilos of a Section 9 UNS banned substance. Even worse, many mega-corps also banned it to some degree due to it's usage in partisanal activities. Getting caught would most likely mean his disassembly due to his position as a Silicon second class being.

He was glad none of the crew knew, as that would implicate them. If they did land on Taxore he was hoping to get a sale contact from an associate related to the Fat Pig. Either way he wasn't looking forward to the grit. Finally the Captain began the brief, Luck turned up his exterior audio sensors, listening intently. While the crew contemplated their responses he played back the audio once more inside his head, formulating an appropriately chipper response: "I've crossed paths with his associates once or twice before. Good money. I saw we try taking the job. I think we might need to land to refuel anyway, we're not in the red, but prices are decent here and we could use a bit more. Either way, I wish him luck eating me raw." He ended the sentence with a suitably organic sounding chuckle, to hammer home the lightness of the decision, he hoped.

@Milkman

"Crew to the bridge for a meeting."

That had been the request earlier. Darien had done as asked. Heading up to the bridge and parking himself at a window. He looked out and sighed, "Taxore." He said simply and as they waited for the briefing to begin he peered out the window, "Polux Base...workers revolt" He muttered as they passed over some mountains on the surface. After abit he rumbled, "And there's Tank Town 1918...Hostile take over..." He shook his head sadly. And a little while later, down below the irregular form of a Hive city can be seen on the surface, "Hive City Vorkun...Corp Inflitration." He spat to the side, then stomped on the wet spot on the deck and scrapped it clean with his boot, "Some auld lang syne ought tae bade bottled up."

He gave a sniff and turned in time to hear the beginning of the briefing. He really didn't want to look down at the planet that he'd been on a few times doing Corp dirty work. He crossed his arms and listened carefully. So the Captain had found them another job. Praise any deity who wants to listen. But then the other shoe drops. He blinks, and clears his throat, "Captain..." His slight scottish accent in evidence, "Captain, urr ye saying that oor contractor is aff tae be a gang leader sur? 'n' yin that seems tae be fairly weel-kent if he's git a moniker even?" He clears his throat, "Juist wanting tae mak' sure ah heard ye richt." He doesn't sound to be naysaying or anything, but sounds cautious. "We didnae gie muckle mynd tae gangs 'n' th' lik' back in th' asf, juist odd trying tae wrap mah heid aroond workin' wi' thaim." He shrugs, "Bit na maiter whilk wey ye cannae git rid o' me. Sae a'm in lik' Flynn."

The older feline nods then gives a shrug, all good to go either way.

It was incredible that for the fourteen years since her surgery, her abdomen still ached. Today wasn't quite as bad, so Karma was glad she hadn't taken a sip of moonshine that morning to dull it further. The smell would definitely carry in such a small room, and it wouldn't look good for their new engineer to be pegged as a raging alcoholic.

There were only a few seats on the bridge, which Karma didn't mind as it was safer to stand with your back against a wall, but gritting her teeth made her face look tense and angry, especially with all the scars on it. It didn't help that so many had punched it in prison, for one reason or another. She was glad that nobody here had tried it - yet.

Still, in the rush to move aboard the Dauntless, she wish she'd grabbed a few things. A mug for herself. The shop that had the carpet also had bioplastic multitools, and one did transform into a cup - but it was also a brush, and she didn't think she'd like to brush her hair with whatever she'd been drinking. Or how long it might last with her homemade brew, once her current supply was out. Tea would be nice, something fruity or flowery instead of all the black tea. A flask or even a bottle of gentle pain killers.

A bottle of meds that MaMa or some other prisoner wouldn't immediately whisk away after knocking her down, even after "learning her lesson." And you couldn't go back to the docs and tell them the bottle was stolen, they'd just nod, not believing or just not caring, saying she'd have to pay for more. And mark you down as "drug seeking". Her eyes shifted to Dar, wondering what he'd charge her for services? It was bad enough she didn't understand what the male was saying half the time.

They seemed friendly enough, but after her time in the prison work camp, she was leery of receiving favors - you never knew how someone might want it paid back. After all, it was a favor that landed her in prison.

She raised her head - and realized they were all looking at her.
Oh god....

"Uh," she managed, swallowing, "Wh... whatever you want to do."

Anxi listened from her chair to the Captain an then the others talk of the Pig and how dangerous he was and it made her smile that beings such as themselves saw a grandeur, a mystique in the simple ending of a life within their tiny weapons. Anxi had seen the face of the real killers people like herself who in the Navy had controlled weapons that raised towns an cities into funeral pyres of thousands during the many brushfire conflicts she'd been assigned to. To those that didn't know her Anxi would appear more a companion or gold digger than a baptized killer of perhaps 2-4,000 souls forgetting that hers is an omnivorous species an predators.
Her tail always appeared so soft it must feel like smoke, her eyes an ears expressive giving her a doll like quality but her leather clothing cut in a military style. She could end this life of danger today by walking off the ship and across the landing zone to a parked Zefries cargo ship but that meant bonding to a chosen mate and babies and a desk.

Shivered a moment before saying "Long as the engines an controls work I'm good, the cargo or destination no more dangerous than the black we'll have to pass through and I'd like to get paid soon" giggles as her tail strokes the air in languid thought.
"I signed on to fly so lets fly"

Evren looked around at his crew. The captain wasn’t afraid that his crew would turn away from danger. As far as his knowledge went, most of them had danced with death before. What he did not know in advance was if people would have any moral objections working for Fat Pig. Vladimir Petrov is a well known scumbag that had no problems murdering people left and right. However most of his crew did not seem to have any reservations regarding doing a job for the infamous gangster.

From luck it didn’t surprise the fox at all. The programmers who had built his AI seemed to have forgotten to implement a moral compass that went beyond the scope of the ship and its crew. However they did not forget to give the droid a sense of humor. ”I’d hear that droid stew is a bit of a local dish here. However it tends to be a bit heavy on the stomach” Joked the captain with a smile.

For a moment the captain listened to Darien, the ship’s physician as he frantically tried to make sense of what the man was saying. The doctor had a thick accent and was often using local words and phrases making him often hard to understand. Sometimes it was impractical but as long as he knew how to patch people up after being shot, it was good enough for Evren's book. A big plus of the bobcat was that he was a former military doctor who had worked on the front lines. From experience the captain knew that those people can work wonders with what little resources they have under difficult circumstances.

Thinking about the Doc’s comments about Fat Pig being a gang leader made Evren realize the irony of working for him. The fox had more or less bought his ship in order to no longer have to work for assholes like the managers of megacorporations. It turns out that he now has to work for just a different kind of shithead to make ends meet. It made the man wonder if honest folk were a dying breed. ”Yeah Doc, you heard it right. Petrov is a gang leader. A real big piece of scum. In more than one way.”

As usual the Orangutan was mostly silent. She was a bit of a wallflower that struggled with being in the center of attention. The truth was that the fox knew very little about her but she has proven to be a competent mechanic. However it was hard to get an idea of what went really down inside her head. Even when she responded more or less positively to working for Petrov, the captain could not tell if she really meant it or if she just was giving the answer she expected that he wanted to hear. For now Evren decided not to press on the issue. He would like her to speak her mind freely but considering how she didn’t seem to be comfortable being in the center of attention, the fox deemed it more appropriate to do it in a more private setting.

Anxi didn’t seem to be phased by the prospects of working for some gangster. She had worked for the USN navy, an organization that some would classify as a criminal syndicate, or atleast the security apparatus of an oppressive regime. Evren guessed that she was used to doing other people’s dirty work.

For a moment the captain stared at the little pilot’s tail that moved playfully through the air behind her seat. ”Making good money is the plan. We’re not going to work for free.”

Since nobody voiced any objections against accepting the Fat Pig job, the captain set things in motion. ”We’ll be meeting Petrov in Kharak Town. There we will discuss the details of the job such as where to pick up the cargo, where to deliver and the details around payment.”

The fox paused a bit before he barked out some orders. “Anxi, contact Kharak Town spaceport and ask permission to land and get us to the ground asap. Once we land we’ll be meeting Fat Pig first. After that we stock up. Luck, run an inventory check on fuel, food and fresh water stocks. I want the Dauntless to be stocked for at least four weeks of flying. Karma, check if we need additional spare parts for the ship. Darien, how is the medbay’s inventory? I don’t know how long we will be flying so better make sure we’re prepared.”

Evren looked down on the brown yellow planet beneath. The weather of Taxore could be treacherous. Especially the sandstorms. They could ofcourse rent an enclosed hanger but that would cost a lot of coin. Better was to get off the planet as fast as possible. ”If possible I want to depart on the same day. I don’t want the ship to get caught up in a sandstorm. Then we’d be cleaning the engines for the coming week.”

Luck focused a camera in on each member of the crew in turn as they spoke. The Doc, rather amusingly, spoke in an almost indecipherably thick accent; a raroty on these days of homogenised culture. Even despite the Doctor's best efforts Luck still got the gist of what he was saying, and Luck was pleased to hear of his stubbornness to stay with them, even if they are working with criminal sorts. Luck always liked the military type. Whether it be their kindred mental machinations or the fact they tended to be loyal and single mindedness he did not know.

Next came the Orangutan, Luck really did not know about her. And he was slightly disgruntled to hear her half-hearted response. He held back from laying into her as he really did not know her, but that sort of vague non-commital response always rustled Luck's rivets. Speaking of he needed his standard maintenance session in a few days. Maybe with the perceived intimacy of the act he could talk to her, get to know her a bit. In the process he wiuld display himself as vulnerable to her and hopefully that would help build trust. Maybe in a one on one setting she would open up a little more. Exactly what the FO needed if he was going to trust her to perform maintenance of him and his ship.

The pilot came next, again an unknown factor to Luck, but she struck him as slightly airheaded. Amusing at best, incompetent at worst. Still she struck him more to the amusing side of the scale than the other way, so he wasn't particularly bothered. She seemed to be good at her job, but they had yet to do any real flying so he had yet to probably judge her.

The Captain issued his orders. Luck gave a polite chuckle about his 'droid stew' joke. He hoped to build up a healthy rapport with the whole crew, especially the captain. Despite him just having done a stock check, he did not tell the captain this. It was unnecessary information. Instead he got on with his other duties with a curt, "Yes, Captain." He sat down at his bridge station, combination Nav and Comms. First off he plotted a simple orbital course down to Kharak Town. He sent this over to the pilot's console. Next up he checked Kharak Town's orbital tag and found the contact details for the harbour master and precise solar coordinates. He contacted the harbour master of their incoming ship and sent encrypted details of their descent and dimensions to the harbour master. He arranged a scheduled transfer out of the ship's funds for the mooring fee and requested the mooring encryptions. Next he transmitted the solar coordinates and the time offset to the pilot's console and shut down his console.

Next was the issue of restocking. There were supply vendors at the space port no doubt, but Luck was a frugal bastard and he wouldn't waste valuable funds on jacked up convenience prices. He would go wholesale, hire some guy with a truck and buy straight from the source. For now he contacted a farm and ordered 4 weeks worth of all the staple foods. Meat, root vegetables, brassicas, rice, flour, other such. Finally when he was done contacted a solid fuel merchant he calculated the costs. It would be a decent chunk of their remaining funds. He sure hoped this job would pay out well, and that he could get a biyer for his 'goods'.

When he was done he wandered off to the mess and began preparing a large meal for the rest of the crew, a traditional Hocatan meal made of meat and sweet purple fruits, with a side of toucan (a traditional naval side dish).

Anxi pivoted in her seat, the pilots seat with a cute smile on her face as she hummed a tune she'd heard partying last night among the other grounded pilots her slender digits delicately taping in the commands. Her reason for request the common free trader reason, Cargo Speculation. In the fleet she'd seen 1,000s of these and knew by research that up to 27% were for nefarious reasons but unless the Pig wasn't paying off the Navy brass they only had to worry about stumbling into a random patrol or overzealous law enforcement & customs ship.
Sure he was slime but he was rich dangerous slime and in her knowledge of the creature smart and the only ones that worked for him that had to worry about him were the foolish, unlucky, or worse and where the dark stories come from the greedy.
says a slender panther boy his sleek fur as black as night making her job so easy.
Most requests are very Bureaucratic an dull but by the time she'd signed off Anxi had the young man purring an looking forward to helping her personally with the landing papers of the ship then treating her to a top flight meal an drinks if she could get the time.
Finished she assumed a very unconventional position in her lovely chair her long legs over the top her head hanging off the seat as she began a pilots check list. She loved the Dauntless because as her pilot she was Dee's true master the others that knew how to ...fly not even close to her. Sure she was cocky about her skills but it wasn't bragging when you can back it up.
Dee was such a simple ship but she was a tough little thing so her check list a short one. Anxi knew as any pilot knew the secret to survival in combat is simplicity, complex ships were nice till something broke an the redundancies failed. "The more complicated the Plumbing the easier it is to stop up the drain" said some great engineer an a moto any experienced pilot shared.
That made her think of the other person aboard she should begin a friendship with the shy girl Karma, maybe she could coax her to her quarters for tea maybe goodies goddess knew she had enough goodies from admirers.
That thought made Anxi flip over in her seat an sit upright

@Expendable

The diagnostic panel was shot. Literally shot. Karma was half-afraid to ask what had happened to it? But until she had the time to repair it, she'd have to do a manual check. Fortunately for her, she had fourteen years experience running manual checks.

Each ship they'd bring into the yard would have one critical component pulled to keep the prisoners from using it to escape - and the diagnostic panel would tell the prisoners exactly what component that was, so they weren't allowed to check it. They'd also drain most of the fuel, leaving just enough to get it into and out of the yard. Since her escape, she bet they now drained all the tanks before letting one of the mechanic prisoners in.

But it was a good thing the Dauntless was on the ground.

The auxiliary oxygen generator wouldn't turn on.
The APU's batteries were half dead.
Various components on the engine were wearing out and needed replacement, now.
And if there was a fire, forget the fire suppression system.

Karma sighed, wiping the grease off her hands. The Dauntless needed an overhaul. Overhauls need money for parts and labor. Judging by the state of the rest of the ship, money was in very short supply. She'd take the captain a list of what was needed, but she'd probably need to raid the local boneyard to find parts the ship could use.

The bobcat looked at the young captain, with a sigh he spoke, "Ah jalouse, th' muckle quaistion is, dae yi'll waant a pleasant untruth, th' bare minimum truth, or th' solid truth?" He looked at thr captain then the first mate, "Ah hell 'n' bugger, th' truth is wee jimmies, wur horribly understocked. We hae th' bare minimum fur a five day trip we micht be able tae stretch that tae seven. Th' ainlie guid thing is, th' emergency help kits ur a' stocked bit main med bay is doon tae mah lest compression bandage. 'n' let's nae stairt in oan gear 'n' medicine. Ahh bugger me bit tis aff tae be ticht."

The crew would be treated to the opening moments of one of Darien's mad Scotsmans tirade. Suddenly he's just growling out what can only be called a near unintelligible string of curses and filth, interspersed with mentioning the bad breeding of various public figures and notaries. All while working up a froth and foam, pulling at his ears and headfur for a good six minutes, until just as suddenly he calms. Takes a deep breathe and looks at everyone, "Pardon me, sorry fur that. A'm gaun back tae medical fur a wee bit."

The old feline would then make his way out.

A short time later, the halls about medical and hibernation are filled with the jolly sound of the missing link between noise and sound. Or some would say. Standing just in the door to the med bay, kilt and tartan on, the doctor blows off some steam, the full stock of the med bay can wait a bit.



The former Corp corpsman is as mortal as anyone really. Everyone needs to relax abit. Not saying the bobcat is stressed out or nothing. But not going to hurt anything. The strident notes of the bagpipe echo through the hibernation bay and back into medical. It's almost psychological warfare one could say.

The loud message for a crew meeting made Njal give an audible groan when he closed the manual for his spacecraft, having spent hours reading over it to memorize everything he could from it. He had plenty of trouble flying the damn thing when he stole it, and having to read the manual while trying to pilot the spacecraft was easier said than done, but he would find another time to continue reading through the manual as he tossed it aside on the bed, getting up as he knelt down to the floor and opened a door to a medium sized cage, watching a black ball of fur roll out almost immediately when the door was fully open. It had been a while since he had let his pet out for a bit of enrichment, grinning as the creature quickly rolled out of the room once Njal opened the door to his living quarters while he casually exited the room and followed behind the rolling creature.

He had made his way to the bridge, taking a seat with the other crew members as he listened to the captain talk about finding another job for them, which involved a merchant by the name of Fat Pig in Kharak Town. It wasn't a name he was familiar with, although the Triads hadn't contacted him for a while with any new clients, so he didn't care too much about it. Once everyone had given their own input on the job, the meeting was finished and everyone went their separate ways, in which Njal decided to follow Luck to the mess hall to provide whatever help he could and to keep himself busy until they landed, ready to get off the ship and see if he could find some interesting trinkets, haggle with a few merchants or con some unsuspecting people. Of course, once he reached the mess hall, the familiar faint sounds of an animal attempting to gain access to the food storage could be heard, causing Njal to roll his eyes in annoyance. That damned Krite still had a large appetite even with the microchip that was implanted within it, although it was only supposed to lessen its appetite for meat, but despite that the animal still had quite an appetite; just not a lethal one.

Walking over to where the sounds were originating from, sure enough the furball was trying to chew through the metal where the food was being contained. Without hesitation, Njal grabbed the Krite in a firm grip and pulled it away, making sure to avoid the many sharp teeth that filled the Krite's mouth. "This food isn't yours, you little shit." He said, knowing he would have to buy the Krite it's own supply of food.

Evren listened patiently as the old doctor threw his tantrum. As a former front line commanding officer, he was well accustomed to people throwing tantrums all the time, especially on the most inconvenient times possible. Like when you’re laying in a ditch for half the day taking cover from artillery fire or when storming an enemy position. Compared to that, the timing of Darien was pretty acceptable.

The captain was well aware of the sorry state his ship was in and that it would require a lot of money and hard work to get everything, including med bay up to standards. Unfortunately Evren only could borrow enough money from the Triads to buy the Dauntless in the state she was. The money for a complete overhaul of everything he had to earn.

As the crew left to do their tasks, the captain had to go to work too. Not only was he in charge of the ship but he was also responsible for the business side of it. That meant a lot of paperwork, calculations and counting money.

Evren went through all the data, receipts and information he could get on the expenses and calculated a rough estimate of the baseline operational cost of the Dauntless per flight day. Just the baseline resource consumption such as fuel and food for the crew would ramp up to around $2000 per flight day. Most of that would be fuel consumption. However it was still a rough estimate. Consumption of fuel was significantly higher when flying in the atmosphere of a planet or having to leave its gravitational pull. However these rough estimates would certainly help with the upcoming negotiations with Fat Pig.

Aside from covering basic costs the captain also needed $5000 to pay off the current quarterly year part of his debt that needed to be paid in the next few days and preferred to also get some replacement parts and medical supplies. That would easily be another $5000. All combined it was almost ten grand more than he had in his pocket. Especially now that luck had spent most of the remaining cash on restocking food supplies Evren sighed as he knew he had to squeeze out as much cash upfront from Fat Pig as possible.

Somehow Luck managed to time his food making project perfectly in sync with Anxi landing the Dauntless at Kharak town Spaceport. All the paperwork had to wait as the pleasant smell of freshly prepped food filled the hallways, cabins, bridge and medbay. It was dinner time, or maybe supper or breakfast. The timing of meals gets a little bit fuzzy in space afterall due to the lack of a day/night cycle. It just becomes food time.

Making his way towards the mess the captain came across medbay. There he was greeted by a barrage of sounds that was residing in the very grey borders between music and torture. The instrument of the bobcat was certainly a unique cultural thing that he was very fond of. However it was questionable if the other crew members could appreciate its distinct sound.

Evren knocked a few times on the Medbay’s door before opening it and sticking his head in. ”Food’s ready, if you’re hungry you should go to the mess. About the medbay’s inventory…can you make up a list of everything that is necessary ordered on priority? Then we can see what we can acquire in Kharak town before we depart again.”

As the captain entered the mess he noticed that Njal was busy with his pet again. It was sort of a funny sight, the giant man with the small pet. However, Evren wasn’t too pleased with having that creature lose around the food supply. ”Njal, put him back in his cage. I don’t want him to munch on our food.”

Just as Njal was about to release the Krite, the captain had entered the mess hall before asking him to return the furball to its cage to keep it from devouring whatever food they had, giving a nod of understanding. "Of course, captain."

Keeping a firm hold of the Krite as he left the mess hall, Njal waited until he was far away enough to release his pet as he tossed it onto the floor, watching it bounce a few times before rolling along the floor on its own. Even though he was heading back to his room, Njal began to have other ideas in mind, such as taking a quick walk to the cargo deck to see if there would be anything good enough to take and use it for haggling with any merchants who would be willing to make a bargain with him. The only problem was to avoid being caught by the crew or the captain. Upon reaching his room with his pet, Njal shut the door and listened for a moment to make sure no one else was close by or able to listen in on what would happen next, grinning when he only heard silence as he stared down at the Krite who stared back up at him with its bright red eyes.

"Alright, I need you," Njal said, using his paws to make gestures that he had used many times to train his pet to help understand him. "To go through the vents and search everyone's room for this." He explained as he lifted his bed mattress and pulled out an empty pill bottle that he had swiped from a trashcan in the medical bay. "Bring these here and keep them hidden in your cage."

So far, it seemed that the Krite understood him as it gave a nod, watching as Njal walked over to the corner of the room and move a table that was placed against the wall, revealing a vent that he had opened to allow his pet to explore through the vent system. It had taken the Krite a good while to navigate through the ventilation without any problem of remembering how to find its way back to the room, of which Njal had to sometimes sneak around if the Krite had forgotten to find its way back and retrieve it from the vents. He wasn't completely sure if anyone had noticed him removing the furball from previous ventilation exploring, but so far no one had said anything or even mentioned anything about it, so there was no need to worry. Without further hesitation, the Krite rolled into the open vent, allowing Njal to place the table back up against the wall to keep anyone from noticing that it was open in the first place.

Feeling satisfied, Njal then left his room and began to casually make his way to the cargo deck, checking all around him to make sure there was no one else around to spot him, in which he would just act like he was doing nothing and abort his plan altogether.

Darien had just finished up the final line of the reel he had been playing about a historic and ancient train back on Terra, the train had been used in a now famous and classic young adults movie series about magic and adventure. Pre-Market collapse holos and video disks of the movies still sold for millions I'd you were lucky to find them. As he's blazing the last notes of the song and into the ending drone, his pipes humming above him, he spots thr captain head I the hall door. He gives the young man a nod as the old Scot bobcat starts to put his great pipes away. As he's doing so the young captain speaks. And the old cat quirks a brow, "Och captain ah kin sum it a' up in a few wee wurds if ye lik'. Or a list tae kin tak' a paukit bit langer. Bit a list yi'll waant a list ye wull git aye." Darien carefully put his pipes back in its protective, reinforced and shielded container and pushes it out of the way. Then turned back to the captain, "Gimme a short bit 'n' ah will follow ye back tae th' fankle wi' a list captain, bet yer fuzzy pumpin' tail ah wull. Gang oan catch up in a short paukit wee bit."

After the captain left the great kilted bobcat sat at his desk in medical and began to draw up a list of supplies. In his mind everything was right damned important. But things like bandages, painkillers, disinfectants, antisceptics and drugs came at the top of the list. Splints, break healing apparti and crush damage solving items were up high too. Space sickness drugs. A new supply of hibernation fluid wouldn't hurt the stuff they had would go rancid in a few trips and no one wanted to come out of the pod smelling like 19 day old cheese and unwashed underwear. Nausea aids might be nice too. On down to getting a crew to come in and assess the ship for medical hazards. Though technically Darien could do that assessment, why do the work, when you can get the Rook or a good team to do it for you? "If you're not cheating, you're not winning" was the motto of the corpsman Corp of Alphabet security after all.

A short time later Darien drifted into the mess hall, still wearing his great kilt tartan and travel short kilt, Macpherson colors, the same colors his family wore, still draped over him. He smiles, "Gie a guid scotsmans yin thing, th' kilt kin seem streenge, bit th' breeze o'er mah baws is sure something let me tell ye." The scottish feline gave out a proper chortle as he walked over to the you captain and handed him a data slate "That stoatin list ye asked fur sur. Itemized 'n' sorted by priority. We're richt fucked if we dinnae pick up everything oan it eventually, bit th' maist wantit is thare at th' tap. Gaun a stowed oot journey wi' oot th' tap stuff, 'n' ye kin ad weel sign oor death warrants son." The rather brutally honest medic made his way to see what kind of snot Luck had put together today.

Anxi danced in her cabin wearing a sexy thong and half shirt that read " 有牛奶 " Got Milk when her sensitive nose caught the smell of cooking so she grabbed her grooming brushes and went to work on her fur. She used a lightly scented oil that didn't make her pelt heavy but glow as if each hair was made of polished silk everywhere but her tail an that she used her tongue on her papillae designed by evolution an her saliva her contained her feral scent.

Then she assembled her clothing and chose a combination of top an shorts then scarf, jewelry bracelets, anklets an a pair of cute geta an tabi socks. The effect was as if she had tons of clothing an accentuated her petite form making her appear like a doll, she didn't dress as she did by accident or promiscuity Anxi loved looking at herself.

She pictured her affect on Boz'm the cute panther boy bureaucrat an giggled saying "Poor Boy" to her mirror.
Sure she planned on using him to benefit herself an the ship but she was sure he'd love every moment as she bounced into the Galley "hi hi" she said cheerfully as she used the back her seat at the table as a sort of vaulting horse settling softly crosslegged in her seat.

Her slender fingers gathered her food in a dance of graceful speed an efficiency her chopsticks clicking an snapping up her choices forming a pile that to her was massive to the others added to her doll like look an as she gathered "I have a date with the star port assistant director, he's young an eager an I hopes can help me find a few needed software upgrades and maybe some parts from the lost an found pile"

(Lost an found was a misnomer that covered smuggled, stolen, actual lost an found, or unclaimed freight and a great place to find bargains that the bureaucrats often used as a private enterprise. Smuggled covered untaxed cargo legal and non harmful as opposed to contraband which was prison to sell even for them if they were caught. Then there was lost which meant general stuff found around the star port most personal articles like luggage, Unclaimed freight was paid for an delivered an as the name says unclaimed and on a star port usually ship parts 34% of the time.)

The gel was supposed to remove the various greases on her hands and feet so it wouldn't get matted in the fur - but it stripped out the natural oils as well. She sighs, reaching for the open hatch and began making her way up the passage, massaging her hands in the towel to work out the last of the gel and put her mind on her next problem - social interaction.

It wasn't enough to explain the scars on her face were from a mugging, or that she spent the last several years working in a ship yard repairing spaceships. They knew she was holding something back. Like prison.

She could feel the butterflies stirring in her stomach. They kept pressing for details. The kinds of details that would send her back. And not to work on the line, oh no. They'd stick her in the Hole, with all those spiders....

Karma shivers, feeling the chill running down her spine....

The Krite

The little ball of fur made its way through the ventilation shafts only to stop briefly when he heard the footsteps of Karma closeby. Once they were gone, the creature made its way towards the room of Anxi but did not find anything that resembled a bottle of pills.

Following the instructions of Njal, the Krite searched through the room of Karma. Nothing resembling the instructions of Njal was found either in this room. However in the search process, the little creature knocked a few items out of the place. Most would not notice but a neatnik like Karma might.

Also the personal room of the Doctor didn’t yield any results. Whatever medical supplies were on the ship, were behind locked doors in the medbay.

The next room the Krite searched was the room of Captain Evren. Here it wasn’t even a challenge to find what the creature was instructed to get. On top of Evren’s bed was a bottle containing sleeping pills. Not just any kind of sleeping pills but the heavy duty ones. The kind that is highly addictive and would knock you out for 8 hours straight regardless of what demons haunt you in the night.

These pills were hard to come by on the frontier. They were highly regulated by the UNS due to its addictiveness and were generally only available by prescription from a doctor of a well established and monitored medical facility. Due to the addictive nature these pills are a well sought after commodity on the black market. The bottle that the Krite found and brought back to his cage would go from anywhere between $300 to $400 selling to an end user or around half of that if Njal would sell it to a dealer. The little bugger quickly returned to his cage with the price.

However there was one last room to search through. And in Luck’s room the Krite got really lucky. After searching through it a bit he stumbled on a crate containing a large number of pill bottles. In each of these bottles there were 10 pills of pure high grade splinter. These bottles would sell at around $500 per bottle however the Krite is only able to carry one bottle at the time. After returning with the first bottle from Luck’s room, the creature returned for more.

For Njal

The cargo deck was mostly empty. The captain had failed to secure any cargo for the trip to Taxore. In the left corner a few wooden crates were stowed against the wall. These crates were used to collect broken down parts of the various machinery that was found on The Dauntless. There was a crate containing metal parts, a crate containing plastics and a crate containing electronics and wiring. Some of these could be reused but scrappers and scavengers usually would pay around $5 per kilo of old parts and stuff.

But the truly interesting part of the cargo deck was the wooden crate that had been loaded onto the ship last minute before they departed. It contained a brand new diagnostic panel. However during the trip towards Taxore Karma hadn’t found the time yet to install the new panel. The captain had bought the panel for $5,000

Evren

Evren watched as Njal walked away with his weird pet. Even though the big man generally always did what the captain asked of him he kind of gave off a weird fibe. As if there were some ulterior motives to his behavior. Where the doctor, Anxi, Luck and even the rather silent Karma all went to have food together, Njal just did not seem to return from stuffing his pet back into his cage. Maybe the big guy wasn’t a social butterfly or maybe there was something else. For better or worse, the captain shrugged this uneasy feeling aside and focussed on the food.

”Thanks for cooking, Luck. It doesn't smell nearly as bad as the last time that I had cooked.” Spoke Evren joyously, as he referred to his own terrible cooking skills. The last time the fox had cooked he managed to mess it up so bad that the fire suppression system would have kicked in if it had been working. Luckily for him that wasn’t the case.

Evren smiled as he noticed that the doctor was in a much better mood as he entered the mess hall compared to when he left the meeting earlier that day. The fox guessed that playing that sonic torture instrument was fundamental in calming the old bobcat. Even though the captain disliked the sound, he understood the value of playing music as he played the acoustic guitar himself.

”Great. Thanks for the list.” Spoke the captain as he took over the data slate. The fox quickly scanned over the list and noticed that it was pretty extensive. For a moment he looked through the list of drugs on the list and noticed the absence of sleeping pills. For a moment Evren contemplated if he should raise the issue. However, doing it here in public did not seem right to him. The crew does not have to know that he was dependent on that stuff. Besides, there still was that well filled bottle on top of his bed. That was more than enough to get him through the next job. On their next landing, he could buy some new ones without anyone knowing. ”Good job doc. Hopefully we can get it all sorted out in a short time.”

The captain listened as Anxi was telling about her upcoming date with one of the port officials. The Red Panda seemed to be rather good at that sort of thing. Evren on the other hand was a different case. He was rather married to work. First going all across the universe with Omnicore and now he had a ship and crew to take care off. Going on dates wasn’t something that fit his schedule at the moment. ”Oh, uh. That sounds nice. Be gentle with him ok? We’ll probably come back here to do business more often.”

As Karma entered the mess hall Evren could notice that she seemed rather anxious. The Orangutan was never the most social one. However she did seem to try to be at least part of the group. That was a good thing. ”Come and sit down” spoke Evren in a friendly tone. ”Luck has cooked so the chances of surviving the food are significantly higher than the time when I made mac and cheese. By the way if possible can you install the new diagnostic panel before we depart? It’s sitting in a crate in the cargo bay.”

Luck emitted a quick double bleep, representing a genuine chuckle as the captain made mention of his cooking endeavors.

The First Officer peered at the slowly assembling crew as he finished up his delicate cooking process and served the scran up into the simple bowls set over for the crew. He had somehow managed to make what was effectively meat, root vegetables, and whatever was left at the back of the cabinets look appetising. Quite impressive for someone without any kind of tastebuds. He just hoped it tasted as good as it looked.

Luck leered at the data slate, hoping to get a peak. He'd bring it up with the captain later and figure out the accounting needed. For now, he was looking at the faces.

No sign of the massive cargo hauler. He quickly flipped through his variety of cameras, finding the chap loitering in the cargo bay, despicably bare as it was. He appeared to be looking at the diagnostic panel. Luck had no idea what he was doing, as he was made aware that food was being served. Oh well, who was he to question someone being odd?

But something about the huge bloke set Luck's alarm bells ringing. It was hard to control a lone wolf like that. How would he sway him with honeyed words if they never shared any? For now, Luck refocused on the room around him.

The small crew had assembled slowly as the smells from the mess began to permeate the upper decks. He called out, [/color=Cyan]"Dinner's up, come get a plate!"[/color]

After leaving the bowls hot on the side and ready to be claimed he wandered over to Karma studying her face quickly, the noticeable scars on her face as well as her obvious nervousness. Luck attempted to put her at ease by initiating the conversation with an open posture and a friendly voice. All he was missing was the sickly-sweet voice, but nay, he would make do with the social functions he possessed. He quickly engaged her in conversation before she could slither away, "Heya Karma, just wanted to talk to you about repairs needed to the ship, as well as my upcoming maintenance check-up." He continued with a swooping motion of his hand, "The first one because I'm going to be renting a hauler, and if you help me with my chores ground side, I'd be more than willing to help you with what you need to get done. And the second because I'd like to get checked out ASAP after we're done on that god-forsaken planet. The dust does my joints mischief, you know?"

As much as he had hoped that there would have been more crates than what he saw, Njal was more than happy when finding the diagnostic panel, feeling as though he had struck gold as he removed the panel from the crate. "This should fetch a pretty coin." He muttered, setting it up against the wooden container for a moment before placing just enough material from the other crates where the panel had been.

It would be as though there never was a diagnostic panel in the first place while he made sure to reseal the crates before grabbing the panel, leaving the cargo deck as casually as he had entered, wondering how successful his pet was in stealing whatever pill bottles it could find. He wouldn't have time to check as he walked back to his room, finding a good enough spot to store the panel until the ship reached the Kharak town spaceport, keeping it hidden from sight in case the crew were to discover it missing before reaching the spaceport. Once he felt it was well out of sight, Njal began to make his way back to the mess hall, not wanting the others to become suspicious of his long absence as he walked, hearing the faint sounds of the Krite rolling through the ventilation for a split second which caused him to grin. If his pet had been successful in finding any pill bottles worth a lot of coin, selling those along with the panel would land him with more than enough coin to spend on himself, along with more food for his pet and maybe a checkup on its microchip.

Pushing the thought away as Njal neared the mess hall, the grin on his face disappeared, being replaced by a stoic look just before he entered, putting on the usual facade he had grown to wear around others as he grabbed a plate. He remained silent while filling up his plate with a large pile of food, needing to eat quite a bit due to his overall size before sitting down at a table away from the others, mulling over his plan several times in his mind as he ate. Everything was going smoothly without a hitch so far, there was no way he would get caught! With his confidence being this high, Njal felt that nothing could possibly go wrong at this point and that it was smooth sailing from here on until reaching the spaceport. He occasionally stole a glance at the other crew members, listening as they talked, not caring what they were talking about unless it involved the diagnostic panel, in which he would try to listen in as much as he could.

Meanwhile...

The Krite was nearly finished with transporting every pill bottle that was in the crate, down to the last three bottles as it made it's way back to the room with a bottle securely placed in its teeth filled maw. With how much work it was doing, the Krite would be expecting to receive some kind of reward in the form of some edible meat, feeling this was the most work it ever had to do in its life as it rolled along through the ventilation, reaching the room and placing the bottle within it's cage. However, the Krite noticed how much space the pill bottles were taking up in it's cage, making it wonder if it will be able to fit in there once all the bottles were put in the cage. It was something its owner would have to figure out as the Krite rolled back into the open vent, making it's way back to Luck's room to retrieve the remaining bottles, moving fast through the vents with a strong determination to finish the job. Its owner always gave the Krite a good reward after every job it was given was carried out successfully, and that is what kept the Krite motivated to carry out its given task.

Anxi munched away enjoying her meal adding raw sugar to most of it like other would salt but it wasn't just for taste but stored energy a little trick she'd learned in her years as a combat pilot. She listened to the others an the Captain only giggling at the go easy with the junior admin. Boz didn't look fragile but she was sure she could leave him in a daze.
The others seemed very concerned with the Dee an that made the little pilot smile as she said "If yall look in the reports my Maneuver an Control assessment is up. The Dee is an old ship but I can make her fly right, jus don want any parts tumbling off she might need to stay off the dirt.
She has a control vibration in the Port thrusters from 50% to 68% load and likes to drop power half a sec in transition from VTOL to Flight or Flight to VTOL I think might be the blast deflectors making the exhaust cough due to engine blowback prob the articulation joints but she's an old girl so what she rattles a little."
Giggles picturing the Dee actually farting just above the Starport