Archive

Archive for February, 2009
February 1st, 2009
Comments Off

Finnras Marek Delain is the captain of the Binturong, an independent privateer/scout operating on the ragged border of space that lies between the human Concordance and the Remnants; alien-inhabited planets that were once part of a vast galactic empire – now entirely wiped out.

February 2nd, 2009
Comments Off

Deirdre brings the ship in to dock. How I got myself talked into letting a little girl pilot my ship, I’ll probably never know.

February 3rd, 2009
Comments Off

The Drift is the same; millennia-deep piles of ships welded into a moon-sized Tortuga of traders, thieves, and beggars. We are neither, which makes this next part tricky.

February 4th, 2009
Comments Off

Deirdre opens hailing frequencies to request permission to dock; almost cute, if it didn’t mean getting boarded, killed and set adrift.

February 5th, 2009
Comments Off

I grab the mike and complete the call, mentioning a different – very distant – airlock. D doesn’t frown – she’s a blank-stare type. Eerie.

February 6th, 2009
Comments Off

Our comms-mod makes little Deirdre sound like a chain-smoking ore miner – unlikely anyone recognized my voice on the call. I hope.

February 7th, 2009
Comments Off

Jon steps onto the bridge, scratching his jaw in the way that says he heard me on comms. I share our ETA. He doesn’t mention Burns. Fine.

February 8th, 2009
Comments Off

The dock-shadow falls across our deck. Jon asks if we’re taking Yoren. Fair question, but no; even hostile, the Drift doesn’t deserve that.

February 9th, 2009
Comments Off

We disembark and pick out a guide. I’ve been here many times, but not this decade – a half-klick of ‘new’ layers to reach corridors I know.

February 10th, 2009
Comments Off

Our guide: a six-limbed, optionally bipedal, gray-furred marsupial. The asymmetrical rows of nipples and squirming carry-pouch? Distracting.

February 11th, 2009
Comments Off

Our guide’s name is Bilabil… give or take. His fur ripples when I ask questions. Yes, this area is stable; almost no one shot today. Hmm.

February 12th, 2009
Comments Off

Surprise: we aren’t shot or robbed on our way to Manifold Bazaar. The towering, giant plants of the place still impress; the babble still deafens.

February 13th, 2009
Comments Off

The ‘bazaar’ is dozens of hanger bays cemented together, leading in all directions. In the feather-light gravity, every angle is an option.

February 14th, 2009
Comments Off

We arrive at a stack of shipping-containers-turned-building, covered in multicolored human handprints; “Five Finger Freight.” My comm beeps.

February 15th, 2009
Comments Off

It’s Deirdre; says she’s tried to reach Mak a half-dozen times, but got no reply. Odd, since I’m watching him walk down the ramp toward us.

February 16th, 2009
Comments Off

Mak’s expression says “… the HELL are you doing here?” while his mouth says “Come on inside!” Taken together, that’s less than reassuring.

February 17th, 2009
Comments Off

Connected like stacking blocks, the cargo containers create a nest of junk-filled ‘rooms’. The junk hides actual valuables… in theory.

February 18th, 2009
Comments Off

We take seats in the “office” container. I take a crate; Jon, a futon; Mak, the pilot’s chair with pistol holstered on the side. Hmm.

February 19th, 2009
Comments Off

Mak doesn’t waste time asking if I’d forgotten that Burns wants me in tiny pieces. He asks why I’m here, and I say Kaetlyn’s name.

February 20th, 2009
Comments Off

She was here. I let out my breath. Mak says she had a freelance scouting job. Normal type of deal; client was Church of Isabel. Wait, what?

February 21st, 2009
Comments Off

The Church of Isabel is supremely anti-expansion, anti-exploration, anti-anything about returning to space. They do NOT hire remnant-scouts.

February 22nd, 2009
Comments Off

I ask what kind of supplies she’d needed – a hint of her destination – but he shakes his head. She didn’t get supplies; she hired a guide.

February 23rd, 2009
Comments Off

Why would a planetary scout hire a guide? Apparently, when she’s going *inside* a world; Mak says she wanted to go to the Drift’s core.

February 24th, 2009
Comments Off

The Drift is a millenia-old accretion of ships; an archeologist’s dream. At its core? Relics from before we first lost our right to space.

February 25th, 2009
Comments Off

Kaetlyn found something in the guts of a federation-era jumpship and heads off into the Remnants. I ask Mak for the guide’s name. Jon sighs.

February 25th, 2009
Comments Off

Kaetlyn found something in the guts of a federation-era jumpship and heads off into the Remnants. I ask Mak for the guide’s name. Jon sighs.

February 26th, 2009
Comments Off

Mak can’t get me in touch with Kaetlyn’s guide. It’s not secrecy or client priviledge, just impossible; he died on the trip back topside.

February 27th, 2009
Comments Off

The core is dangerous; got it. Maybe another g– My comm beeps. A red light on Mak’s desk starts flashing. Outside, klaxons wail. Wonderful.

February 28th, 2009
Comments Off

I pull out my comm while Mak flips monitors on and fingers his chair-pistol. Deirdre says ships are landing. Everywhere. Raiders.

February 28th, 2009
Comments Off

[[Story posts for February are complete. Read all 28 posts of the-story-thus-far in proper order here: http://tinyurl.com/finnras-feb ]]