Battlestation Takemikazuchi

"Captain" Dash Claynor

*Small note this is Section 17 one of 25 sections part of Battlestation Takemikazuchi


Captain Jaraust Laxasch shakes his head and nods, but then leans back in his chair before saying, "you know I only important that stuff for my Vanguard Scouts. I enjoy it, but it's something I purchase out of my discretionary funds. I think we can work something out, but with a raise it means extra responsibility. I can't tell you when, but we're not going to just be travelling towards the enemy forever. We'll launch an offensive at some point, but we'll need to do some reconnaissance, and some other discrete missions."

"So I'll take your current shipment at the agreed on rate, but if you take up one of these missions I need completed you'll have the 10% on top of whatever legal freight you haul. You have it pretty good with access to our repair docks, and you avoid customs. All you have to do is check the The Trader's Gazette and look for work being offered by Sapphire Coast Shipping Line who have a shadowy reputation already. Once you take one of the jobs and load up one of my operatives will contact you. Think about it."

Just then he looks at the flashing screen on his desk, "we'll need to pick this up later I have an emergency."


The Trader's Gazette is displayed publicly in many places, and most merchants and traders get it sent to their data slate so if you were to check it out at your leisure you'd find a section for Sapphire Coast Shipping Line. Their rates are standard, but with bonuses for going to dangerous locations. You keep any salvage, just make sure the cargo arrives. The captain made it clear all the missions were cover for some operation.

37 metric tons of Assorted Medical Supplies, to Frontier World

20 metric tons of Foodstuffs, to Empire Frontier Military Colony

20 metric tons of Droid Parts, to Nearby Allied Alien System

24 metric tons of Fuel, to Middle system of Allied Aliens

37 metric tons of Blasters, to Nearby Commercial Space Station

29 metric tons of Sundries (clothing, containers, knick-knacks), to Nearby System mining colony
 
Chief Engineer Karl McKay

Your engineers mixed with station security and members of the local community watch stop the aliens from advancing past the kitchen area. It seems them moved through one of the access corridors, so it's possible that your team members still survive. The fighting is bitter in the kitchen with the Zetas engaging at close range with their powerful blasters. Several team members aren't directly hit, but are still wounded.

Still though you have numbers on your side, and blasters cut down the Zetas. Several make a last ditch charge with one actually driving a large knife into the head of one of the security officer's heads before being cut down. One engineer technician Clifton Figueroa shoots one Zeta several times before finishing it off with a meat cleaver.

As you enter the space below the restaurant you find your teams, but unfortunately half are dead or wounded. Medics quickly move in to do what they can to save those who survived. It looks like the put up a brave front, but the Zetas pushed around them and out.

Specialist Isis Nakamura leans against a tool cart bloodied and bandaged smoking a spice electronic cigarette. She smiles weekly and nods to the medic when he asks if she can wait.

"Hey chief good to see you. It was all going fine. We were checking the water system and doing a few minor repairs as we went when I sent two men down the access passage and the next thing I heard was blaster fire. Then two of those Zetas come down the hallway and before you know it we're all firing. Good idea requiring everyone to take their weapons. Oh the ones who are dead didn't, so don't feel bad."

She slides herself down onto a crate as medic begins treating her injury. "Before they got ambushed they called back on one of their communicators. It was Arnold Page and he described what looked like stone work an strange symbols down the passage."

She stops and points in the direction. "Doesn't make a lot of sense does it?"
 
Lieutenant Julia Voshel / Rex Lionheart

Lieutenant Julia Voshel

While you're talking in the hallway your data slate comes alive with several messages. Interestingly enough it's J-2 sending you a text with pictures. He includes several of the team beginning work on the fighters, and even one of him shaking hands with one of the technicians. He also includes several pictures of him serving and your crewmen enjoying his macaroni and cheese. He even includes a picture of a couple, a female pilot and a male crew chief showing off their Red Strike tattoos. For a standard bot he does seem to be eager and industrious.

J-1 continues to scan the hallway moving up and down before something comes into his sites. He rushes over and encounters a black and white house cat clone (pet clones tend to be large in this case more like a bobcat). The robot scans it and looks it over. It meow's at him and he replies back. A few minutes later a woman clad in a robe and her hair in a towel rushes up the side stairs.

"Muffin come here girl, " to wish the cat responds and wonders back to her owner. The woman blushes and apologizes as she takes the large cat by it's collar and leads it back home.

Rex Lionheart

The rewiring several components of the computer targeting computer into portable navigation computer works well enough, so now among other things when you connect them to a ship's system they'll work together and one more port will be available. The data center is now tied in with the station and keeping you thoroughly up to date as far as the fleet goes. "Linda" runs a diagnostic on the hover bike again and seems to be more pleased this time around, and begins collecting any hand tools. Nancy completes the food prep and puts all the food in the oven unit, and goes about cleaning the kitchen area.

Supplies Of Kiev does send a large information packet to your email account. It includes:

#IS789-2-457 Battle tested Stogna fighter similar to the Intrepid Heavy Bomber. Robust life support system, three laser cannons, and fresh paint job. Good long range fighter.

#IS789-2-456 three cargo hold Traxian freighter. No engines, no onboard computer. Needs repair!

#IS789-2-455 Space station class Energy Drill. Purchaser never picked up. Runs like new.

#IS789-2-454 Five lot's of ship board firefighting equipment. There are twelve sets of gear a lot.

#IS789-2-500 24 tons of Industrial Parts in one container.

#IS789-2-501 28 tons of slaughtered Alien Livestock meat with inspection certificates and you keep the preservation container.
 
Nicola Beneletto

Nicola is the first customer to exit the Artistic Ministry Cafe this morning. The extra-large iced latte and bulky government-issue data slate seem to belong to someone else, too bulky for her long but delicate fingers. She sits, placing both on a small table near the sidewalk, and opens her mail in the slate. Friends and from Earth are fishing for gossip, expecting her to complain about the bureaucracy she's suffering through at the beginning of her career in public health. Instead she replies with a selfie taken in front of the designer desk she had shipped to the battlestation. Its angle shows the larger-than-regulation apartment her connections in the administration had set aside for her.

Closing her email, she begins skimming files of the fleet's mental health patients. Strained public resources mean she won't have weekly hour-long sessions for months on end, the way her classmates will. Instead she may only have a few minutes to help a struggling veteran, or evaluate a criminal for parole. The files themselves are a mess, let alone the patients. Incomplete histories. When the detail is there it seems like half the fleet never knew their parents, created several false identities, or was expelled from the service for theft or murder. Such extreme things have been done to and by the people she'd be trying to help. Some of the files seemed to dare her to think of some way to break these cycles. Far from missing the status she'd had in her research career, she was beginning to think the bad boy type was a professional calling as well as a personal interest.

The warmth and humidity of the station seemed to cushion her arrival - no military harshness about the weather, at least. She leaned back in her chair and tossed her curly black hair. Her long slim legs projected past the table. Beneath the cropped yoga pants her pale calves were still faintly glowing from her morning workout.

The cafe was still empty except for a violinist setting up to busk for the morning rush. He was playing a Bach fugue - not playing, only practicing, taking the fragments of the fugue and breaking them down even further. Nicola watched an early commuter tap his slate to the violinist's case, transferring a credit. She'd heard the fugue before and knew the performer had just made a mistake - forgotten a voice in the stretto, and started it again. The violinist and the commuter nodded at each other while the error faded into the air with the humidity.

Nicola remembered her coffee and took a sip. She couldn't afford to make mistakes, if that meant releasing an unrepetant criminal with military training. She wondered if her new job would revive her career the way the coffee was beginning to wake her up for the day.
 
"Ah, one of the Earth Empire protectors. Yes the service needs defensive pilots too. I never served on Earth. I have been out in the reaches. I was in the Bird's Nest for a while with the 556th. The flight I was with is called the death Squad. I was called the Angel of Death. My wing man was Scotty March he was called the Merchant of Death. Our boss was Commander Theologus Sinhala he was called the Tower of Death. So yeah, I'm Milatary Too!"


Julia extended her hand as listened to Rex talk about his military experience. She was always interested in learning about off world military operations and liked to compared them to her own, seeing if could learn a new trick or two.

"Welcome to the Empire Earth Military then, expect to be working together closely with a fellow pilot."
 
Nicola

Nicola was exhausted from her first full day at Fleet Hospital working with patients. Her last appointment of the day - a James Venock, referred by station law enforcement for his alcoholism after a 'drunk and disorderly' charge - hadn't shown up. Instead of leaving early she thought she'd explore the hospital. She took a few random turns, nodding at the few staff she passed, and quickly lost track of the direction back to her office.

Her orientation materials had mentioned a color-coded system of paths leading to the different departments. The grey of her own area had disappeared during one of her random turns. Now, no colors were left to guide her. She hadn't seen any helpful signs at the past few intersections, either.

She rounded another corner and saw a figure twenty feet ahead of her, a man reading his tablet while walking. She called after him but he seemed not to notice. Still engrossed in his reading, he pressed a thumb to a scanner next to a door and stepped through. Nicola caught the door as it was an inch from closing. The sign by the door said only BWV 1001, and the door itself was blank, like a supply closet.

Instead, as she looked around the door, she saw several workstations and a huge coffin-like machine she recognized as the latest full-body imaging equipment. One of the workstations was showing video of the scan, apparently several cross-sections of a brain. Bright blobs of color brightening, spreading and fading like spilled wine sinking into a rug.

Nicola is confused by the odd shapes - there are other monitors tracking electrical activity, so she suspects she's seeing a brain scan in real time. She doesn't recognize the patterns though. She knows what the brain looks like when sleeping, meditating, watching pornography, doing a crossword puzzle. The blobs seemed to follow their own mysterious logic. She wondered if she was seeing a scan of an alien brain for the first time. The door had just slammed shut behind her and she heard footsteps from deeper in the lab.
 
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Dash nodded slightly. He had a feeling that the good Captain would make a further request for the extra price tag for his cargo. It was only fair. There was plenty of room on his ship now that he had made his deliveries; he could use a new cargo contract at this point. He wasn't going to let on, however. He nodded and frowned slightly. "Fine, if it will get me a few extra credits, I suppose I can help out the Sapphire Coast Shipping Line with a delivery." He tried to sound crest-fallen, but a shared smile gave it all away. "See you in a few weeks, boss."

He closed the door and let himself out of the headquarters building, trying to minimize his time in the Fleet's administrative part of the station as much as possible. Too many eyes on his coming and going makes his work all that more easier to do. Hopping aboard a transport to slip toward the civilian section, Dash was already on his data pad, checking out this Sapphire Coast Shipping Line. Having the word "coast" in the name seemed completely out of place in an age of interplanetary travel; maybe it was old enough to still be carrying its name from the days of oceanic shipping. Dash filed that thought away for another day.

The Trader's Gazette is displayed publicly in many places, and most merchants and traders get it sent to their data slate so if you were to check it out at your leisure you'd find a section for Sapphire Coast Shipping Line. Their rates are standard, but with bonuses for going to dangerous locations. You keep any salvage, just make sure the cargo arrives. The captain made it clear all the missions were cover for some operation.

37 metric tons of Assorted Medical Supplies, to Frontier World

20 metric tons of Foodstuffs, to Empire Frontier Military Colony

20 metric tons of Droid Parts, to Nearby Allied Alien System

24 metric tons of Fuel, to Middle system of Allied Aliens

37 metric tons of Blasters, to Nearby Commercial Space Station

29 metric tons of Sundries (clothing, containers, knick-knacks), to Nearby System mining colony

The listed shipments all seemed pretty mundane. Nothing really interested him until he started reading the destinations. Turning off the display for the moment, he hopped off the transport and wandered down a "street" off of the main thoroughfare through section 17. He'd been to the station a few times and there was one place that he managed to find on his first trip that kept him coming back. Clean tables and floors, clean glasses, cozy tables, cheap drinks and easy bar food; it was just the hole he needed for unwinding and stretching his legs after a long flight.

Once he'd managed to get a beer and a plate of fried, but tasty food set down in front of him, Dash turned his data pad back on. Scrolling down the list, he found the droid parts delivery offer again. It wasn't so much the cargo as the destination; he hadn't gone to the allied planets much. It was a lot harder to work deals and find angles among a different culture. Still, there were business deals among their neighbors and benefactors that gifted the Earth with this station way out here. He just had to figure out his "in". Still, he hadn't worked with this company before. Before he agreed to anything, he wanted to see what this organization was all about. He sat back and idly munched on his food as he spread out to stretch. His cockpit wasn't spacious and it felt good to fill as much space as he felt like again. Once he was done, he brought up the station data center and tried to figure out if there was a local rep for SCSL he could talk to about taking on a shipment.
 
Don't feel bad? Bullshit! Men and women under his command died! Why? Because they didn't listen to him! They never did! Now he had to answer to his superiors about it. Karl started wondering if having this job was worth it, anymore. Was he a bad leader, or did he just get saddled with a terrible crew. Hopefully, the survivors had learned their lesson.

"It's all right, Isis," he lied. "Do you know if he scanned them?"

It took awhile for the medics to reach their position, but Karl stayed with them the whole way. He was nothing if not loyal to his crew, no matter how stupid and insubordinate they were. Maybe not loyal, but he was at least responsible.

Once the wounded were evacuated, Karl went ahead with the team to make a sweep for any more Zetas and get a look at the stonework for himself. Even if Page scanned them there could be more. There was only one way to find out.

A short time later, they found the stone work, and the bodies or more of his people. Shaking his head, he turned his camera to the stone symbols and took careful images and scans of them. Hopefully, someone would be able to decipher them and provide further information of any aliens below the city.
 
Rex smiles brightly at the sexy Russian flight leader. "Yes, that would be my pleasure, I have not yet been a ssigned to a group. I have heard talk around the station of Red Squadron of coarse. Fine group of fliers as I understand."
Rex looks up to the second floor.

Droid Nancy is in the kitchen area when the computer makes a message signal.
Nancy stops and moves over to the monitor. Taps a few on screen tabs and receives Rex's answer from Supplies of Keiv.

Supplies Of Kiev in responce to your requests has in inventory:

#IS789-2-457 Battle tested Stogna fighter similar to the Intrepid Heavy Bomber. Robust life support system, three laser cannons, and fresh paint job. Good long range fighter.

#IS789-2-456 three cargo hold Traxian freighter. No engines, no onboard computer. Needs repair!

#IS789-2-455 Space station class Energy Drill. Purchaser never picked up. Runs like new.

#IS789-2-454 Five lot's of ship board firefighting equipment. There are twelve sets of gear a lot.

#IS789-2-500 24 tons of Industrial Parts in one container.

#IS789-2-501 28 tons of slaughtered Alien Livestock meat with inspection certificates and you keep the preservation container.


Nancy calls out "REX".

Rex smiles at Julia. "Lieutenant Julia Voshel, would you like to jion me for dinner? " He reclimbs the stairs and looks at the screen.

"Whooo. They have a Traxian freighter for sale. Lets see, no engine and no computer. That is cool. I should be able to afford that!"
 
Nicola Beneletto

Fleet hospitals all seem to be alike in how they're run and put in order, but constructing a facility on board an captured alien craft will force some changes no matter what. While you've talked to other medical personnel in the other sections the hospital at section 17 seems unique. It's located in an area where there are very few buildings on the same side of the street, and the complex is four massive buildings that while aren't the tallest are among the longest.

Glass, carpets, and paneling have been added over the harsh metal and stone the aliens constructed their buildings from. There are many windows and one might even think they were at a Fleet designed hospital. There are plants, fountains, and more then a few lounge areas.

Still though the place has some unsettling feelings to it, and thankfully since there are no real combat wounded coming in besides staff it's the place is near empty. Physiological services is seldom full as well, and your office has an attached room with couch/bed, turbo shower, and refresh toilet. Security patrols the complex, but you mostly find them at entrances and exit locations.

Another thing that is different is they're actually over staffed with nurses and technicians and they're around 80% female. Reason why is they're all androids, synthetic humans modeled after career Fleet nurses and many only look like they're in their 20's. You've even been told one can be repurposed to be your office attendant. They all seem rather upbeat about the work and friendly though.

Your discovery....

You hear in time to get out of view of one of the Fleet technicians assigned to janitorial staff. He's pushing along a heavy industrial spray and suck cleaner down the main access corridor and isn't paying much attention to the lab space in the secure area. Few people can get in after all and security focuses on people when they go in and out. Inside it's a little easier to get around as you've found out.

The monitor doesn't seem to make much sense to you from your training, but the equipment does give you a few clues. This is advanced military medical technology, and while not top secret it isn't exactly in common use. Among the uses though is cloning, and while not outlawed in the Empire it's highly regulated. While some wealthy people you know harvest them for organs or even to create a lover it isn't something easily done. The military has been known for keeping DNA data of it's best soldiers though.

A quick glance into the largely glass room next door reveals all though. You see a humanoid beast strapped down to a large medical table with tubs and IVs attached, and of course the devices to monitor the brain. The subject looks like a blast from the past. He's extremely tall cave man looking human hairless below his eyebrows with muscles on top of muscles. Hardly chiseled like a Greek God, but rather a human gorilla.

There are two monitors next to the brainwave scanner. One shows what looks like the standard health monitor, but this is frightening. There are additional organs in fact some actually look more robust. There are actually plates of bone to protect areas of the body mounted on a skeletal system that looks like it was built for a race car frame. His vitals are very impressive and his testosterone levels are like that of wild animal in heat. There are also bio enhancements, but those remain classified.

The other monitor seems to hold basic data facts like a nurse charting computer. It's nothing new to you and it links to this subjects file who is referred to as BWV 1001 Subject 101. Seems he or it or whatever is in the next room is one of 1200 subjects assigned to this project...

In the room there is all the typical lab equipment, a desk with an impressive looking laptop, and on the wall two riot stun rifles. A few surgical scrub suits are hanging on the wall as well. You do hear the main door open again...
 
All Fighter Pilots Receive the following Data Slate Message

*TOP SECRET*

TASK FORCE DRAGOON

After talking to allied intelligence and our own operatives on the frontier high command has decided to create a new series of units to combat the enemy threat. The aliens will attack capital ships in large numbers of fighters and despite losses being inflicted on their boarding parties prior to boarding they still persist in capturing ships in this manner. They've also raided colonies and outposts with similar tactics.

Along with increased training and arming of crews of all ships we need to respond in kind, so units made up of fighters and boarding ships will be formed. Fast transports not carriers will move the fighters, and Fast-Attack Assault Raider ships will carry boarding parties made up of marines and sailors.

In this early stage we're requesting volunteers. For those who take up the task on their own initiative there will be rewards. If this project is successful promotion will be fast tracked. Contact your unit's intelligence officer.
 
Captain Dash Claynor III

The Feast Beast is a chain restaurant that seems to show up in more of the working class sections of space stations and star ports. The place always prides itself as been comfortable for it's patrons as well as serving larger then average portions. Plates of ribs, giant burgers, and scented fries are among the favorites. The patrons of this particular location are mostly civilians working for Fleet, but a few service people can be found at the bar. For many married to Fleet personnel or dependents a job is a way to keep busy.

20 metric tons of Droid Parts, to Nearby Allied Alien System....

A few clicks gives you a little more information on the cargo run you're probably doing for operatives working for the Fleet. The Sapphire Coast Shipping Lineis a new company that operates out of the station and seems to rent space for all it's operations from the Fleet's Civilian relations board. It operates out of one of the new banks setup on the station, and has fairly good reviews. Their website with contact information is boilerplate.

The Nearby Alien System is mentioned though when you review the same offers on their website.

Geirrod System consists of the following:

Rock Planet

Rock Planet

Geirrod C751686-8
1 moon *Destination

Rock Planet
2 moons
Ice Planet
Asteroid Belt


Starport: C Rated with a quality installation. Refueling and reasonable repair facilities available. Fleet Scout base may be present.

Naval Base: The Pimmons have a planetary based defense complexes along with planet based combat fighters.

Size: 7000

Atmosphere:Breathable without assistance.

Hydrography: 20% water

Population: 6 Millions inhabitants 80% Pimmons

Government: Civil service bureaucracy under territory governor.

Law Level: Permits required for firearms

Tech Level: Current this is year 30 of a Terraforming project. Most industry supports the infrastructure with farming close behind.


Other messages sent to your data slate

The Harbor master's office contacts you about leasing landing space with workshop, storage, and living quarters.

A media personality named Milya Tvorine is looking to ride along with a civilian captain.

The Section 17 Syreen consulate is taking applications for letters of marque to any Empire Earth ship armed for combat. They promise tax free sale of any captured salvage and payment in Empire Trade Silver for any prisoners or confirmed kills. There will also be bounties for criminals, pirates, and traitors. Report to the consulate in person, but make an appointment first.
 
Chief Engineer Karl McKay

While your checking the stone work below what would be the power/sewer corridor below "street level" of section 17 Captain Jaraust Laxasch arrives on scene with heavily armed Fleet security force personnel. He works his way down the hall flanked by aids asking questions, but seems to have a genuine concern for the people under him. He touches Specialist Isis Nakamura hands as the medics take her out on a stretcher.


Captain looks to you and shakes his head. "Looks like you got bushwhacked. Not something you expect on one of your own ships, but hell Battlestation Takemikazuchi is an alien planet with 25 cities on it. We still don't know everything about it either. My aids tell me you've been dealing with some discipline issues and maintaining readiness. I'll investigate, but the way I understand it your commander hasn't been enforcing the rules violations you report."

With that he walks passed you with his aids into the area beyond the all. Once inside with light units and security scanning away you find it's a circular cave like area with smooth stone. Seems the aliens brought this on board the ship, and the reason why soon becomes clear. Inside the inner circle there is a large alter like structure. Alien symbols decorate the walls, green colored torches illuminate the room, and there is a massive display of alien skulls and weaponry. Some items you recognize others you have no idea.

Opposite the weapons appears to be your answer to where these aliens came from...You see an alien power source large enough to power a medium size craft crudely hooked up to what look like six sleep pods, but you can't be sure until you look them over. This discovering though is only creating more questions.
 
The Harbor master's office contacts you about leasing landing space with workshop, storage, and living quarters.

Dash tapped his chin with his thumb as he looked at the latest note from the Harbor master. He had been operating out of his ship for a long time and it was starting to become the cramped side of cozy after the long trip out here from the dead drop with the code cylinder. Given what the Station Commander told him, he could be working out of the station for a while. He could use a permanent place to lay his head for the next few months at least. Also, he was sure he could get it with Captain Laxasch's approval. He made a note of the location of the Harbor Master's office to swing by after he talked to the SCSL about the droid parts.

Dash was just about to turn off the screen on his data pad when he saw something in the ad section for the shipping news board.

A media personality named Milya Tvorine is looking to ride along with a civilian captain.

Dash grinned at the idea of some reporter tumbling around in his can of a ship as he took his shortcuts around this portion of the galaxy. In all honesty, a passenger might help break up the monotony of shipping runs like this. And if it got his face in the news, it might open doors with slightly more reputable customers that could use a man of his flexible morality. Scrolling through the listing, he found the contact information and sent out a message to Ms. Tvorine's handlers, not thinking he'd be talking with her directly.

Adding a hefty tip to his tab, Dash paid and walked out the door, looking for the SCSL headquarters to take their posted job. They had to be serious enough for them to earn his attention. A few sector-spanning transits later and Dash found himself in front of the building, casting a critical eye over what he saw.
 
Nicola Beneletto

Nicola doubts anyone would believe she was just lost on the way to the restroom - she'd wandered halfway across the hospital from her office. With the open floor plan of the lab and the glass wall between her and the monster, she can't think of anywhere to hide except behind the monitors hooked up to the monster. The instant she hears the lab door open she darts through the interior door in the glass wall, closer to the monster.

From outside the glass the creature was hideous, but as she slips through the door she's clubbed with the worst body odor she's ever smelled. She gas and yanks her blouse up over her nose but every step she seems to pick up on another layer of nuance in his sweat. Nicola is so lightheaded she barely manages to stumble behind the heart monitor. He's like her first taste of whiskey in college: she adapted to the initial shock and discovered it actually got worse. The room seems to fade around her and she wasn't sure she could stand again quickly if she needed to escape.

The sound of the door had come from two robotic nurses entering the room. They seem to be running some sort of tests, both signals through the monitors and projecting images onto the ceiling above the monster. Nicola glances up and catches the word 'blue' projected in large red block letters.

"RED! RED! REDDDD!" the monster shudders against the restraints as he stumbles through the test. Nicola is terrified he might break through the restraints - with his huge arms he could reach her from the table. She feels he's angry at her personally for being in his room, his territory. He wants to get at her and beat her to a pulp, it was her fault he was strapped down.

She risks a glance around the machine she's hiding behind and realizes he's looked down from the ceiling, unable to move his restrained head but staring her down out of the corner of his eye. Through gaps in his exoskeleton she can see the huge muscles of his shoulder and he's drenched in sweat, shaking against the restraints, veins bulging. She can't look away from his eyes. She catches a drift of a smoky sweetness in the air, that she'd missed underneath the brutal acrid body odor.

The undercurrent of smoke was delicious. Nicola feels warmer and weaker - she still finds the monster disgusting, still wonders what data the nurses are gathering, but even more she wants to know if this creature understands what it means that she's there. She rolls a bit more towards him, flips her hair over her shoulder, teases her blouse open an inch farther. He roars and tries to lunge towards her but the restraints don't budge, biting deeply into his skin. She sighs and slides to the floor, eyes fluttering closed, still afraid of him but unable to move as she bathes in his musk. She was barely hidden, but too weak and wet to care anymore.

Through her haze she's aware the monster is increasingly agitated. He probably isn't even responding to the test images anymore, only bellowing and grunting and shaking on the table. Nicola hears the glass door opening and a nurse approaching the monster - not looking behind the monitor where Nicola is - and suddenly the monster is quiet. Between the two of them, the nurses transfer the unconscious monster to a gurney and wheel him out.

Nicola lies on the floor another minute as the air conditioning cools the room and sweeps out some of the monster's scent. When she sits up, the room is empty and quiet - all the monitors off, the workstations shut down. Not wanting the adventure to be wasted, she scanned for something that might give her information about the monster. She stands over the table where he'd been bound. There's still a pancake-size pool of his sweat on the table. Knees shaking, she searches through the cabinets in the room and finds a syringe, places the tip in the pool and manages to draw a dozen milliliters of sweat into it. She slips the syringe into her lab coat pocket and leaves the lab, glad to have fresh air again.

Although she can think and walk now, Nicola's exhausted. With a few mistakes, she manages to retrace her steps to her office and takes a long shower in the bathroom attached to her office. When she's done she dresses in street clothes - a red leather pencil skirt, heels, a sleeveless blouse. She empties the syringe into a urine sample jar - lots of her patients are required to take drug tests, so she has a cabinet full of them. She seals the jar and leaves the hospital, taking a cab back to her apartment.

She has a spare bedroom she's turned into an office, with a bookshelf full of medical textbooks. They were all available on tablets anyway, so taking a hundred pounds of books on a space station was hardly practical, but most were graduation gifts from her parents. Tucked in the middle was a massive lupus textbook, a bit worn like the others, but a cheap fifth edition from the twenty-first century next to a seventeenth-century printing of William Harvey's De Motu Cordis.

Nicola takes down the lupus textbook and flips through it to the part in the middle where a hole has been cut through the center of the pages. She slips the sample jar into the book, the liquid inside settling, and replaces the book on her shelf.
 
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Task Force Dragoon

After chatting with the Russian pilot for a while she took her leave. After a few minutes the computer comes alive with a flash alert!

*TOP SECRET*

From:Allied intelligence
To: All pilots

The aliens will attack capital ships in large numbers of fighters and despite losses being inflicted on their boarding parties prior to boarding they still persist in capturing ships in this manner. They've also raided colonies and outposts with similar tactics.

In this early stage we're requesting volunteers. For those who take up the task on their own initiative there will be rewards. If this project is successful promotion will be fast tracked. Contact your unit's intelligence officer.

"Oh yeah...Action!"

Rex gathers up his flight gear puts it in his battle bag and throws it over his shoulder. The driod Nancy opens his door. Me moves his Orion turbo hover bike into hall. He turns to the driod. "Take care of the place till I get back!"

He pushes the hover bike to the elevator. In a few minutes he is on the street. He set the nav computer to operations intelligence. The bike roars down the different streets. Till he arrives at Allied intelligence. He parks his hover bike and shows his ID to the guard. Askes for the Allied intelligence officer. He is pointed to an office down the hall.

He walks into the office a chief petty officer looks haggard. " Yes"

Flying Officer Rex Lionheart call sign Star Dreamer reporting for TASK FORCE DRAGOON. If you have a Tigershark available I fly it!"

The Chief looks at him and gives him a half smile. " A Tigershark?" He looks on his computer screen. He taps a few keys. "Ah a Tigershark just out of maintence. No. 734-11. Just shipped in from the bird's nest area." He taps out the information and puts it on a E-Card. " Bring this in to the Commander. He will give you your orders."

He is ushered into the Commanders office. The Chief nods to the Commander." Sir I have Flying Officer Rex Lionheart here. He has been assigned a Tigershark fighter No. 734-11" The Commander looks up. "Ah, the dash 11. Good Ship."

Rex hands him the E-Card. The Commander slids it into the computer. He looks at the srceen. "Ah you have interplanetary navigation skills....thats good!" He taps a few keys. He looks up and smiles. " I have a mission for you. Its a solo mission. There have been raids against one of our out posts. Morganville. In the Becktra area. You will get your details from the local commander. That is all!"

And just like that Rex is flying again.
 
Captain Dash Claynor III

Battlestation Takemikazuchi is literately a mobile space fortress, but one of it's problems is that there are so many ways to enter the sphere. There are thousands of docking bays all over the station, and while the military has taken the largest there are still plenty of opportunities for entrepreneurs to setup shop. The Harbor Master is the civilian equivalent of the flight officer and manages the sites with his staff. Easy to contact or visit the section 17 representative in person.

The standard lay out has multiple heavy armored blast doors and backup force field. Inside there are several smaller doors for cargo and people, but also can be sealed if necessary. The landing area leaves plenty of room for equipment on the sides, and able to handle most flight operations.

There is a small command tower on the right if you're entering from the outside and below is the warehouse and workshop space. There are large entry doors and wall can be moved to configure the size of the work or storage as necessary. On the up levels though it's hidden by walkways with clear walls. On the other side there is space for living quarters and offices depending on your needs.




Milya Tvorine
http://www.digitaltveurope.net/wp-content/uploads/2013/10/Milya_Timergaleyeva.jpg


While you don't get through to the report herself as you thought you do receive an email back from one of her staff inquiring about the mission, and while you should be chosen for the series. You also have to be willing to allow camera droids to come along on the trip. They understand you have a deadline so soon you get back to them the better. While they can't pay you directly there is promised compensation for your efforts.

The green apron wearing waitress at the Feast Beast happily checks the credit terminal as you exit the restaurant and smiles as she looks over at you. She meets you in the doorway and gives you a white t-shirt with FEAST BEAST! in black on the front with black sleeves and hands you a preferred customer card.


https://edgecast.pirate101.com/image/free/Pirate/Images/Landing-Pages/sapphire-ship.jpg?v=3

The Sapphire Coast Shipping Lineis setup in one of the many former alien occupied buildings that have been converted to offices. Generally they're picked for having more smaller room and large communal rooms on each floor. What the aliens used them for is anyone's guess, but this building like all others it now looks a modern office building of five stories. Once inside you see men and women all wearing blue blazers whether they're working security or office staffers.

You're greeted politely offered a beverage and brought up to a conference room on the third level. You're seated in a plush chair and soon another blue blazer wearing individual comes on into the room. He's actually comes in running and grabs your hand firmly.

"Hello Sir! My name is Shidfar Nikamresh, but my friends call me Sid. I hope you and I can be friends. Well we all are here at ]Sapphire Coast Shipping Line. So you want to do some contract flying for us, and who may I ask referred you to us sir?"

He practically jumps into the seat the head of the table and picks up and powers up the date slate on it and looks to you waiting for answer.
 
Task Force Dragoon

Not long after leaving Commander Dan Raymond Goodall office (a quick bio search on him would reveal he has a background that sounds like a intelligence cover but he was also an Ace in the Wilderness Campaign for the Empire using mostly Light AARs) you receive an encrypted email. The subject which is also coded advises you to view the data alone.

You've been accepted into the operation and will be heading out in the following days, but there has been a change. You need a wing-man and while the commander is tempted just to pull someone from the pool of candidates for you he wants to grow this operation organically. He wants his recruits to search out others they feel will be useful in the operation and not just pilots. So you're tasked with finding a partner who is available as soon as possible if not the commander will select for you for this assignment.

You'll be heading to Morganville in the Becktra area of the Geirrod System. Near Geirrod C751686-8 is a moon where the outpost is located. It was actually the first planet the Pimmons farmed to test their technology in the region. Apparently it worked fast, but lacked diversity, and the moon is over 80% jungle. Morganville was a human outpost set up by renegades some time back before the Empire had a presents in the region.

There is a large human population of separatists who have since applied to rejoin the Empire. They handle much of the industry on the moon which is shipped off to Geirrod C751686-8. There are actually very few Pimmons on the planet and humans and Syreen make up the majority. Among the important items produced there are missile systems, capital ship engines and parts, and small arms.

The aliens have been raiding with fighters and dropping in infiltration teams which are very difficult for militia and security forces to track down. So we want to do as much damage before they get to land while still maintaining a covert presents. They don't expect us in that region yet, so let's keep it that way.

We'll give you a pair of Tigershark fighters marked up like they belong to the local defense force. Your communications will be encoded as well. They'll be No. 734-11/No. 734-12 respectively. Factory twins so you'll have screens on the consult that show you the vitals of your partner and what's on their radar. Also you'll be launching from a Syreen transport.

Don't worry it's a cargo transport equipped to deploy shuttles, so modifications are being made. These are our allies so make a good impression, and the crew will probably all be female. They have maintenance shop, and are training their service crews to rearm your fighters. It's not equipped to do major repairs though, so stay on your game. Also it's a armed civilian transport not a warship, so don't let them get into trouble.

You'll come out from the shadows score some nasty hits and then slip back on the ship and head to the outpost inside the transport. They'll have no idea where you came from if all goes well. I expect some good kills from this mission, and get any intelligence you can.

CONTACT ME WITH ANY QUESTIONS ON THE SECURE SERVER. OUT
 
After scanning the writings and altar, Karl, he forwarded the image up the chain of command. Let them decide who gets to study it. That was when the room was illuminated. Okay, he thought to himself. I'm kinda impressed.

A rather large (and hopefully powerful) power generator dominated the room. If it was anything like the generators he helped work on in the past, it would definitely help with the power infrastructure.

As for the rest of the room, a... trophy case? That was the best way to describe it. How long had these Zetas been here? Are the skulls recent kills? Just how long were they able to operate here unnoticed for so long?

He gave the skulls, the weapons, the generator, and even the writing on the walls a thorough scan before forwarding the images once more up the chain of command.

With that out of the way, he made his way back through the corridors and to the restaurant. Naturally, there were a large number of onlookers, curious as to what was happening. And of course, the press was there. They would never pass up an opportunity to get the scoop when death was involved, would they?

Feeling tired, and frankly stick to his stomach, he just headed to the triage center next door while ignoring any questions the reporters shouted to him. He wanted nothing to do with the vultures.
 
Nicola Beneletto

Nicola knows she doesn't have much of a sample to work with, but she takes the jar of sweat she collected from the monster out of its hiding place and walks into the room next to the office, her lab. Before becoming a psychologist, she'd been part of a research team at a pharmaceutical company, using her neuroscience background to develop a new antidepressant. The trials hadn't gone well, but she was still in touch with researchers there who had asked her to keep them up to date on any interesting new compounds she heard of while working with the Battlestation's alien population.

She thought the monster certainly qualified as interesting. Her former employer had given her a centrifuge, some chromatography equipment, reagents to test pH. Wearing a mask to avoid the fumes, she was able to confirm her sample contained an organic compound that was different from the pheromones normally found in humans. But she didn't have enough of a sample to identify it exactly, let alone synthesize it.

She'd have to see if she could find the creature again and get a larger sample.

In the meantime, she was thinking about how she might produce the compound, and who would purchase it if she could. Once she had a larger sample to work from she would talk to the pharmacist she knew on the station - he might be able to help supply her so she could create the compound herself, or to sell it if she could make it on her own.
 
"Hello Sir! My name is Shidfar Nikamresh, but my friends call me Sid. I hope you and I can be friends. Well we all are here at ]Sapphire Coast Shipping Line. So you want to do some contract flying for us, and who may I ask referred you to us sir?"

He practically jumps into the seat the head of the table and picks up and powers up the date slate on it and looks to you waiting for answer.

Dash was immediately put on alert by how gregarious this representative seemed to be. He was already starting paperwork and hadn't so much as asked him anything. Maybe they were desperate for people to take their contracts and didn't want to take the chance that Dash would leave without taking up their business. If that was the case, he already had a leg up in the bargaining department.

"The Captain of the station said that things are picking up for the Empire and its fleet. That usually means business for a freight pilot so I looked you folks up. There is a contract to ship out some droid parts to a nearby ally system so I thought I'd drop and see if the price is right." Dash sat back and leaned the chair to look as casual as he could. He watched the rep to see how he reacted. Dash wanted to see if he had read the company man's body language correctly.

To add to it, he flipped out his data pad and saw he already had a response from Milya Tvorine's people. He'd look in that later; for now, he was negotiating.
 
Chief Engineer Karl McKay

"Starship captains are like children. They want everything right now and they want it their way. The secret is to give them what they need, not what they want."- Scotty, offering La Forge advice on handling Starfleet captains

Seems the security forces are around in force finally, but that's mostly to deal with the crowds of onlookers and reporters. Officers clad in riot gear pushed them back and you're able to make it to the triage tent with little difficulty. The manager of the restaurant is promising you and your people free lunch once they get the place back together.

For now though you're being treated at the triage center. You're given the basic run through and those of your team who survived will be fine and back to duty in no time. The casualties are put in body bags and are going over to Fleet Medical Hospital.

Captain Jaraust Laxasch soon turns things over to one his aids who identifies himself as Yeoman Jenson does come over to talk to you when the medical personnel are clear. He sits down and looks at a data slate and looks at you shaking his head.

"Our allies told us this station was cleared after the plague, but it seems they didn't look hard enough. The trophies are much older, and the best we can figure those were long travel sleep pods. They dragged them down there setup a system and slept through the plague. They were sealed in behind stone and steal. Seems one section though was much thinner. What we're concerned about is how man more of these "bunkers" are out there."

He goes over a few routine things with you like getting replacements, medical leave, and asking if you have any requests. He also ask, "so you want to continue this assignment or do you want something on the front line. Either way you let us know what you need.

Civilian Consultant to Fleet Nicola Beneletto

This is perhaps your first trip where you didn't have someone to pack and unpack for you so most of your items still remain in the hardy plastic Fleet containers. You have your gear though and it's useful, but you need to get setup. Hell even your android is in it's stasis chamber, but at least you have your coffee machine setup. You still have your therapy bath and sauna to setup as well, but this place will be home fore awhile. No maids so it's up for you to put your house in order this time around.

You're in a section of four buildings, but your's is clearly the luxury model of the group. You have more space and only full baths, and have large factory style windows to look out of during the day and night cycles at Section 17. The first level has a number of small cafe eateries, a classic book store with translations of alien work, and a night club named The Universe. It's very popular with the area locals and because of the difference shifts and civilians it's opened all the time. One can always get a sandwich, drink, and be entertained.

The Club got in the building newsletter recently because several Blue Skinned Neon women are performing some very erotic singing acts. This caste of the species has jumped at the chance to work at the station for the money and the possible immigration to the allied planets. The outcasts are finding acceptance among similarly colored species, and Fleet is even starting a recruitment program for technicians.

*OOC You live in a building across from the building of the other two players.

You're pretty sure that that thing back at the lab would have stood up to your stun pistol with little effect. The heavy duty chemical spray and riot gear might have bought you a few extra minutes, but you don't have the necessary firepower to be sure, so you have to remain sneaky. While your home though you receive a few standard emails from Fleet Medical Center.

-With the recent attack extra security is being brought on for the patients and where the corpse will be examined. Just have correct ID and participate with security forces.

-Offer of android nurse office assistant to all medical staff of your rank and above is being offered, but now with a deadline since manpower demands.

-http://www.petsamaritans.co.uk/wp-content/uploads/2011/04/kittens-2011-3.jpg
The staff of the cloning lab have finished their mass cloning experiments for this stage and hope to put down any of the negative press about the work. There are no super soldiers or alien hybrids, but simply work with species that will be used to repopulate after terraforming is complete. If you'd like to adopt one of these cute boys or girls just contact the Scientific Development Labs at the hospital. Hospital staffers have first crack at these cute sweet healthy and very normal cats.


Captain Dash Claynor III

Shidfar Nikamresh nods when you mention Section 17's dedicated captain who also fancies himself a spy master and defacto mayor of the civilians. A female human wearing blue blazer comes in and places two glasses down containing a beige drink with white swirls. The drink smells somewhat like coffee and tastes great if you indulge in it. Your host doesn't waste any time though, but he listens intently.

"Well if you've seen anything on the planet you know it's a beautiful place. It's not so much a joint project between the allies, but the Syreen are there in large numbers, and they'd rather drink wine, make art, and go on spiritual journeys then work. So they're big into using droids for everything they can. In the Empire we have an edge on them, so they want our droids and haven't gotten any factories up and running. Now is the time to make some credits."

He pauses looks at a data slate and has a sip of the beverage and looks back over at you and says, "try it we have tons of it because a client couldn't pay. You'll find it in the cafes, but I like how the girls make it here. As to your rate we'll go with standard rates plus 20% for any issues you might encounter while travelling there. Now you'll like this most of our haulers do."

" We never like sending a ship home empty, so after you meet our contact on world if he doesn't have anything for you to haul back right away you get paid to wait. Food and lodging on us. Hey you could sit there for a week and you'd still come out ahead. Also any side business long as it's above board it's all you. Long as there is room for our stuff. So what do you think?"


Your data slate get's several sales emails while you're in the meeting.

-A new crop of rehabbed Enemy Alien Dietary cylinders are on the market. Hook one up to your power grid on your craft and it will spit out three meals three times a day (Breakfast, lunch, and dinner). You can pick the menu and all meals are guaranteed nutritious.

-Warehouse Security Robots have been adapted for starship security are for sale. Very strong and with basic laser weapons they're perfect to protect you in port and repel boarders. Weapons can be upgraded as well as other basic skills.

-Hydran guardsmen are hiring themselves out as escort mercenaries. They require sleep space, food, and first choice of booty including slaves. Guardsmen are better trained and have their own arms and equipment.

Flavored Background Text...
These are essentially lizard men that many in the Empire would describe as a cross between a raptor and human. Strong, average height, with tough green skin they once had their own empire, but it fell apart centuries ago due to internal fighting. A fact they don't like being brought up in conversation. They enjoy blood sports, hunting, and aren't above enslavement. They often wear out their welcome quickly so they're always on the move.

They fight hard and drink hard, and often don't wish to be paid in credits. They'd rather have weapons or transport, but food and medical supplies are a given in their minds. Their basic unit ranges from as few as 4 to as many as a 100. With the new campaign more and more have been arriving at the station.

http://fc04.deviantart.net/fs70/i/2012/287/e/9/star_trek_wars__bossk_and_gorn_by_zimeta-d5hqlyo.jpg
 
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Captain Dash Claynor III

Shidfar Nikamresh nods when you mention Section 17's dedicated captain who also fancies himself a spy master and defacto mayor of the civilians. A female human wearing blue blazer comes in and places two glasses down containing a beige drink with white swirls. The drink smells somewhat like coffee and tastes great if you indulge in it. Your host doesn't waste any time though, but he listens intently.

"Well if you've seen anything on the planet you know it's a beautiful place. It's not so much a joint project between the allies, but the Syreen are there in large numbers, and they'd rather drink wine, make art, and go on spiritual journeys then work. So they're big into using droids for everything they can. In the Empire we have an edge on them, so they want our droids and haven't gotten any factories up and running. Now is the time to make some credits."

He pauses looks at a data slate and has a sip of the beverage and looks back over at you and says, "try it we have tons of it because a client couldn't pay. You'll find it in the cafes, but I like how the girls make it here. As to your rate we'll go with standard rates plus 20% for any issues you might encounter while travelling there. Now you'll like this most of our haulers do."

" We never like sending a ship home empty, so after you meet our contact on world if he doesn't have anything for you to haul back right away you get paid to wait. Food and lodging on us. Hey you could sit there for a week and you'd still come out ahead. Also any side business long as it's above board it's all you. Long as there is room for our stuff. So what do you think?"


Your data slate get's several sales emails while you're in the meeting.

-A new crop of rehabbed Enemy Alien Dietary cylinders are on the market. Hook one up to your power grid on your craft and it will spit out three meals three times a day (Breakfast, lunch, and dinner). You can pick the menu and all meals are guaranteed nutritious.

-Warehouse Security Robots have been adapted for starship security are for sale. Very strong and with basic laser weapons they're perfect to protect you in port and repel boarders. Weapons can be upgraded as well as other basic skills.

-Hydran guardsmen are hiring themselves out as escort mercenaries. They require sleep space, food, and first choice of booty including slaves. Guardsmen are better trained and have their own arms and equipment.

Dash sips the beverage, curious of its origin and why it wasn't shipped like they had planned. With all the traffic to the station there should be any number of pilots that would take it off their hands if the first contractor fell through. Then again, the SCSL may have just needed an excuse to keep themselves in good coffee or what ever this drink was. If it was the latter, Dash completely understood and knew they would be the sort of company he could work with. He appreciated a company with a little bit of larceny in their ledger. The deal for the cargo run wasn't too bad either. He appreciated the 20% bump for overhead as he hated paying out of pocket for tolls, tariffs, etc. when he made runs like these.

As for the folks taking delivery, Dash couldn't read the Syreen. Sure, they were nice to look at, but he felt like they were a bit too aloof. A little like the Eloi of The Time Machine. He bristled at the first impression he had of their ally; they felt too much like the world owed them a living. It was a wonder that their society hadn't collapsed at some point. Then again, after so many years, they must be good at avoiding such things, Dash reasoned.

"Alright, the fare sounds reasonable. I appreciate not having to deadhead. Now, will I have to wear one of those snappy blazers I see everyone wearing or is that optional?" Dash teased, grinning at his negotiation partner.

"Also, do you have any business connection with Milya Tvorine? I might be doing something to support her show and I don't want to create a conflict of interest for either of you." Dash added, curious about her reputation around the station. He'd only heard the name in the media as he floated between planets; he wasn't sure about who she was according to the locals.
 
Nicola Beneletto

Nicola told her personal android Charmian to unpack her living quarters. So far, she'd been living out of suitcases, but she'd arranged for a few luxuries to be shipped up. While Charmian worked installing Nicola's minibar, coffee machine, therapy bath and sauna, Nicola caught up on her emails.

She replies to two emails from the hospital, requesting a nurse assistant android and a cat. She likes the idea of having a pet around. She had several other emails regarding her patients and began to look through those, hoping Charmian would have the bar ready soon.
 
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