Play@YSDC

24 houres latter…

You all have been crammed in a locomotive for about 6 hours. Captain Malcom wasn’t very satisfied that to get the ore, he needed to go make a detour in the north to solve the strike, so he decide that Mary and Ota (both in charge) with two new guys that he just hired would go (he went with Kathy to solve the other problem with the Tcherenko brothers). The nephew of Picked (a certain Abe) was also there (to everyone surprise, he was much older than everyone thought).
It is hot, and the door is automatically closed. The landscape is monotonous: plains with grass for miles and miles with an occasional farm and small villages. Finally, a warning that in 10 minutes you will arrive: the landscape here is even worst, just barren land...

Former 1st Officer Jacob Abe's head jerks up as the ten minute warning sounds. Almost by instinct, the would-be merchant-prince's hand reaches down to grab the holdall stashed between his feet before his conscious mind even registers the fact that he is awake.

Reassured by the bulk of the laser carbine within said holdall and the initial panic subsiding, he grunts with satisfaction. Eyes rheumy with sleep, he scans his new companions. Not the most inspiring crew he'd ever worked with, he reckons, silently cursing that old fox Picker for calling in yet another family favour.

"Still, I've travelled with worse I guess..." he mutters, realising too late that he's speaking out loud.

Ota bristled at the comment. ”You’re the nephew of someone who thinks he’s important,” he snapped, aggrieved at this jumped up kid - well, obviously not a kid, given his age - but jumped up, all the same. ”You got this job because someone pulled some strings. From my experience, those kinda people don’t do so well when things start getting tasty, if you get my drift?!”

"Likewise," says Mary in response to Jacob Abe. "I'm Mary Tanaka, the pilot."

Rourke:

Rourke is looking quite dapper in a cream sweater, dark blue jacket and dark blue cargos. A not-quite-uniform. He is studying a print-out of a global map of the planet and also trying to update himself on system local news and affairs.

He casts a quick eye at his new crew-mates. "I'm sure everyone will have their moment to shine," he says with a wry smile.

Jacob responds to Ota first. Typical ex-military, he decides: bitter at his discharge but still yearning for a regimental life. He knew the type well.

“Well, let’s hope things don’t get ‘tasty’, and we don’t have to find out, eh soldier? As for pulling strings… I know full well how important my uncle thinks he is, and rest assured the asshole’s pulling my strings more than he’s pulling yours.”

He then turns to Rourke. Ex-navy maybe? Even in such casual attire, the guy had a nautical air about him.

“I’ve had to shine once too often my friend,” he replies with a smirk.

Lastly, he nods in greeting to the girl. A tough-looking character: a flyboy eh? Ex-marine? Ganger? Either way, someone more than capable of ‘shining’ if things did get tasty.

“Pleased to make your acquaintance. I’m Jacob: merchant and, evidently, spoiled nephew.”

“I’ll be honest with you: I’m only here ‘cos a few too many deals went sour. What brings you guys to such a salubrious hole?”

"Oh, the usual," says Mary. "Find a crew, find a job, keep flyin'. We sold a load of spices here, and we're planning to buy a load of ore with the proceeds - once we make sure the ore gets moving again. Then it's off to another planet to sell it for a profit. Wash, rinse, repeat. You know the drill. You look like you've been a merchant longer than I've been alive."

Ota didn’t say that he was only planning to be with the crew until something better came along. He didn’t think the army would come calling again but perhaps a Merc company, one looking for strong leadership? Or a security outfit looking for a senior officer with plenty of experience?

”I’m here to make sure they don’t get their tails shot off,” was his short reply.

Rourke:

Rourke looks up again and focuses on Jacob. "I'm just a spacer, happy to work my passage to the more active trade routes. Getting out of this system has proved to be more of a problem than I expected though."

He straightens and neatly re-folds the map printout, and goes back to studying it while listening to planetary news reports from an ear-plug.

Hiroto gets up from having been half-asleep on one of the hard wooden benches serving as seats in the locomotive and brushes off some non existing dust from his jacket. He produces a metal cylinder and pops out two yellow pills and downs them with a grimace. "Hiroto, at your service, should you need service, now or later." He drowsily checks the car passengers out, A merch, a space jockey and two guns for hire. They´d sure will need services soon enough.... "Well, I sure bet on the wrong horse a couple of times to many. Guess, I, like the lot of you, will live to die in another parsec." He gets up and looks out the array of windows. "Bleak, man. Just bleak."

Ota frowned. He recognised the benefits that certain drugs could bring in sharpening the senses or prolonging endurance, but Hiroto seemed to be popping them like candy. He marked him down as unreliable and went back to field stripping his rifle and sidearm.

Rourke:

Rourke pauses, puts the map down neatly and studies Hiroto. "Will live to die in another parsec," he says slowly. "Will live to die in another parsec?"

"I'm sorry, what does that mean? That we will all survive this planet but we can expect to die once we're outside this system? Or that we actually hope to die, but die outside this system?"

"This planet seems sufficiently dangerous that some or all of us may die right here. And I hope none of us is hoping to die."

“I’ll drink to that,” says Jacob, eyeing up the pill-popping medic and hoping that he won’t need his services.

He turns to survey the depressing view that rattles past.

“What a dump…”

Hiroto tilts his head slightly. "Just vitamines, man. All pharmaceuticals are´nt drugs you know. But I feel your reluctance to trust anything I say. We´re all newcomers here." He flips the metal tube at Jacob. The lable says Calciferols.
"Artificial sunshine, my friend." He taps the window. "Back on Terra, they used to say - Live to fight another day. I like to think I´ll live to see onother parsec, That takes the metric from time to distance. I care to think I have more miles than days ahead of me. Just a way of looking on life, I guess."


Hiroto realizes he has failed keeping his mouth closed with the new crew. He clenches his fists and double bumps the window. "No time to think back." He takes his seat once again and relaxes his bones.

"Everybody dies eventually," says Mary. "I guess the idea is to put it off as long as possible."

”Well, thanks everyone for that morale-boosting chat,” said Ota, sarcastically. ”We’ll be there soon so let’s just get our shit together and enjoy the last few minutes in quiet contemplation, shall we?”

‘Burnt out spacers and civilians? Damn…’

Rourke:

Rourke regards Ota slightly sceptically. "Errm, right." He sticks the earphone back in his ear and resumes examining the map printouts.

“I admire your optimism my friend,” Jacob mutters as he hands the tube of vitamins back to Hiroto.

“Let’s hope the miners at Calamity are just as optimistic. I don’t know why they’re withholding the goods, but it must be something considerable; it’s their livelihood after all.”

"So, Mary and Ota, what is our plan of action? Find intel and make a plan after that? Or do we know where the people holding up the flow of commerce are, and do we know why? At this point it feels like we are tourists here."

”Reconnoitre first, determine the enemy’s strengths and then plan our attack,” replied Ota, briskly. ”We’ll have this sorted and be on our way again in no time.”