2x01 - The First Embers
General Summary
The rooms and corridors of Last Wish were empty at this time of the day, during the rest period. Only few Dabarani guards were wandering in the corridors, enforcing the curfew. The last shuttle landed a while ago, and the few passengers were waiting the inspection.
The Dabarani sergeant looked at the small groups gathered outside the ferry: few grizzled miners returning from orbit, Icons only know where did they spent the last birr on. Over there, a really young couple, hugging the possessions of a life, the eyes glinting of hope.
The sergeant shook the head, frowning: a damn misplaced hope, kids. He saw many of them over the last years, men and women looking for a new life, for a new opportunity inside the scorching wall of the outpost. Last Wish sucked the soul out each one of them.
The last group.. well, let's say they didn't instill much trust on the Dabarani man that was looking at them. Another frown, another look. Criminal perhaps, some sort of salvagers or lowlife at best, troublemakers at worst. Well, let's hope they don't try anything fishy, today. He don't want to fill a report for a gunfight.
"So, what do we have here? An acid tank?" the sergeant followed with the eyes the big cistern pulled out from the ferry.
"oh yeah, it's ours" a smiley Javed Maniad approached the man, handing the transport documents to the guard. "You know, the usual things for the refineries here. Recently they're ordering a lot of these tanks. It seems there's always a lot of work to do, heh?" Another smile.
"Hmm..." the sergeant scrutinized the documents, without adding a word.
"So, you don't mind if we take a closer look, hm?"
"No, not at all. Please, be my guest. Just... a little caution, it's a very strong acid" Javed nodded vehemently.
The dabarani sighed and gestured the two guards awaiting for instructions. The inspection began.
Few hours later the group was on his way back to Shepard Terminal. The inspection went clean - after all the items inside the tank were impossible to find. Sure, a container resitant enough to sustain an industrial acid was not an easy task to find, but it was worth its price. After the checkpoint they swiftly brought the cargo to their contact, pocketed the promised birr and left, no questions attached. Still, they were wondering what was the meaning of the items they smuggled in: several high technology parts - cybernetic, it seemed - all marked with Legion barcodes. Oh well, it's not a problem anymore. On their way back they were contacted by Massoud Rafati, with another job for them. In his office they found a young couple, man and woman, that Massoud introduced. "Ok, listen to me, if you have the ability to do it. These are my business partners, and they want someone with the right skills to do a quite sensible job. It seems you're not brainless criminal monkeys, after all, so I gave your names to them" grumbled the old man, waving the to the unknown man. "My name's Hawk, and she is Wolf" the man started to speak "I.. think we can drop any facade I have prepared, and speak frankly. I didn't expect a known friend of our organization here, but it seems we're lucky" said, looking directly at Javed Maniad . All the eyes moved to him. "We represent the Zenithian Hegemony in this station. It's a.. discreet representation as, you may have heard, there aren't good relationships with the Dabarani Emirates, at the current state." "We need someone able to move a very high valuable cargo under the eyes of the guards, and drop it in a.. special place. You're in?"
And so, this is how a new story started. A bunch of rogues, dragged by political currents too big for their tastes. The following minutes were been suggestively violent: the group and the Hegemonist reached the hangar where the The Drunken Bitch was docked. But, as they discovered, the Dabarani were a step ahead of them. A group of guards were awaiting them, and a rather messy firefight ensued. A bit battered, but alive, the crew of the Drunken Bitch soon departed with the precious cargo: weapons and enough explosives to blow up a little town. Their destination: a little, far ball of ice and snow on the edge of the system.
Few hours later the group was on his way back to Shepard Terminal. The inspection went clean - after all the items inside the tank were impossible to find. Sure, a container resitant enough to sustain an industrial acid was not an easy task to find, but it was worth its price. After the checkpoint they swiftly brought the cargo to their contact, pocketed the promised birr and left, no questions attached. Still, they were wondering what was the meaning of the items they smuggled in: several high technology parts - cybernetic, it seemed - all marked with Legion barcodes. Oh well, it's not a problem anymore. On their way back they were contacted by Massoud Rafati, with another job for them. In his office they found a young couple, man and woman, that Massoud introduced. "Ok, listen to me, if you have the ability to do it. These are my business partners, and they want someone with the right skills to do a quite sensible job. It seems you're not brainless criminal monkeys, after all, so I gave your names to them" grumbled the old man, waving the to the unknown man. "My name's Hawk, and she is Wolf" the man started to speak "I.. think we can drop any facade I have prepared, and speak frankly. I didn't expect a known friend of our organization here, but it seems we're lucky" said, looking directly at Javed Maniad . All the eyes moved to him. "We represent the Zenithian Hegemony in this station. It's a.. discreet representation as, you may have heard, there aren't good relationships with the Dabarani Emirates, at the current state." "We need someone able to move a very high valuable cargo under the eyes of the guards, and drop it in a.. special place. You're in?"
And so, this is how a new story started. A bunch of rogues, dragged by political currents too big for their tastes. The following minutes were been suggestively violent: the group and the Hegemonist reached the hangar where the The Drunken Bitch was docked. But, as they discovered, the Dabarani were a step ahead of them. A group of guards were awaiting them, and a rather messy firefight ensued. A bit battered, but alive, the crew of the Drunken Bitch soon departed with the precious cargo: weapons and enough explosives to blow up a little town. Their destination: a little, far ball of ice and snow on the edge of the system.
Report Date
05 Aug 2020
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