Sandbox Sci-Fi RP

[Rakk]

Welcome to the Panlos System, named after the first planet colonized by humans in the solar group. The system is home to many millions of humanoid beings in several distinct group. Each with their very own hierarchy and culture.

Panlos - A Frontier World, it provided much of the resources upon which the system was built. Of course this did not come without a price, Panlos was originally founded by Corporations to pursue more questionable research far away from the public eye. Sadly for these corporations various disasters, financial and natural either destroyed their control of the colonies on the planet. There are two major cities on the planet the largest consisting of 40,000,000 people, and the next largest consisting of 500,000.

These two cities are located a fair distance from each other on the singular landmass of the world. They both sit in the "hot zone" which has high temperatures which would require a human to wear an environmental suit even without the mostly nitrogen based atmosphere and low pressure.

Most other settlements are mining communities or the remnants of former corporate interests where the populace refused to leave their homes.

Everything out in the "cold zone" is a hellish wasteland where only the worst kind of people thrive. It is a land of contrasts, the average temperature lives somewhere around -15 degrees on a balmy summer day and much, much, much worse on a winters night. The region also contains the planets active volcanoes.

But this region is home to a large variety of minerals and natural gasses, making it a valuable area for those who claim to "control" it.

Space Prime - Space Prime is the main location of humans in the system. Their population at any given time is somewhere just north of 600,000,000 all spread out in customized space colonies. Each colony is catered to the tastes and ideas of those who run and live in it. If one does not like where they are they can always move to another one, or set out to create their won once they fill out the proper paperwork, and find at least a minimum number of families to ensure a stable population.

The Space Colonies are a separate political entity from the planet of Panlos after a successful war of secession was waged by the "Spacers." They have also had to put down several "insurrections" of their own who tried to claim their right to freedom as stated in the secession act. Since that time the Spacers have held decent relations with the planet below, and hold favorable trade agreements with the major cities of Panlos.

The Swarm - The Swarm is a large collection of ships, carriers, freight, and cargo containers freely floating in space. Some spacers call them legal pirates, some see them as a threat, others understand that they provide an essential service. Those on the plant hold much the same views of the swarm as the spacers.

The Swarm is parked a short (in galactic terms) way from the jump portal which leads to the other forty worlds of the short lived Human Empire. The swarm acts as a free port of call to all who would wish their services or safety. The only rule followed in the swarm is for everyone to keep their noses out of other ships business.

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Recent Galactic Events

Fracturing of the Forty after the shattering of Terra Prime in a high yeild weapons test sent the moon spiraling towards the planet. Without enough time for the planet to begin evacuations or even notice what had gone wrong Terra Prime was reduced to cosmic dust, debris, floating rock, and burning wasteland.

War of the Forty the forty worlds entered a long standing conflict with one another all contesting for the role Terra Prime once held. After forty years the conflict ended in a ceasefire with no planetary system gaining the upperhand or making more than marginal gains.

Galactic wide insurrections and exodus. All around the forty many people banded together and left their various planets, some left the forty to go out in search of new planets and new possibilities. Some left their planets to form space colonies, no planetoid colonies, some built into asteroids, others built entirely out of manmade materials.

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Limitations, I like to say none other than no f***ing master chief. And No god-mode.

If you are going to have a great and all powerful hero, give him some decent character flaws, like horrible flashbacks, insomnia, one arm or such. I'd like the characters to be somewhat balanced. Other than that, the sky is the limit, anything is possible, Khallos for example could be a furry person from a colony of people heavily into genetic manipulation who all look like animals. Cleon could be a smack talking samurai prospector from the planet and Kan could be a heavily armored android from the swarm.... who can make a mean steak tartar.

[Griggs]

OOC: Someone's been reading Asimov.

IC:

Name: Angus MacComer
Age: 43
Height: 212 cm
Hair Color: Dark, almost black, brown.
Eye Color: Green

Despite his name, Angus is not Irish or Scottish and indeed hasn't been for 300 years. His mother and father, tradespeople from a lightly settled planet called Mao's Beacon (settled originally by, you guessed it, the Chinese), or MaoBao to the people who live there. It wasn't a lasting home, though, and they moved several times throughout the system before he came of age. Angus liked the space life, living under nobody's govern but your own for most of the time, and made a decision early on that he would make his living that way.

Some 25 years later now, Angus is a pilot of his own, privately owned and operated, trade cruiser, ferrying cargo throughout the system, often through embargoes. The life of a trader, while hard, is rewarding ad offers more freedom than any other but possibly pirating, though Angus despises the mere prospect of preying on the weak or defenseless.

His ship, named the Emerald Lady, is small when compared to many large military craft, but is quite roomy when compared to passenger ships. The large part of the craft consists of its engines and cargo hold, with a living area the size of a suite hotel room, along with a primary control room and and several airlocks. It is unarmed, though Angus has a several weapons to defend himself in case of boarding or when on the mainland, such as a Deftech .40 caliber automatic and a large, pump-action Milcraft scattergun.

Currently, he is busy delivering a load of soap (yes, soap) to Panlos, though he is fairly sure soap isn't the only thing in the crates he's hauling. Hey, don't ask, don't tell.

[Khallos]

OOC: Reminds me kind of DarkStar One, actually

IC:
Name: Jabber Swarky
Age: 33
Height: 6'3"
Hair Color: Brown
Occupation: Bounty Hunter/Freebooter

Jabbers is originally from the planet Grule 4, in the Grule system, a heavily industrialized planet surrounded by massive shipyards, being one of the biggest Starship manufacturing worlds in the known galaxy. Jabbers was in fact born in orbit around the planet, a son to a pair of Starship Engineers on the great orbital shipyard stations.

Jabbers' move out of the family business and into "Freelance Policing" was mostly down to the fact that the overpopulated planet below had far too much crime for the official police to deal with, the cramped, squalid conditions in the cities not helping matters. Therefore bounty hunters were readily employed by the authorities, able to operate faster and with more force than traditional law enforcement ever could. It proved a lucrative industry, and before long Jabbers could afford to commission a spacious, high powered and above all well armed Shuttle class starship by the name of the Daytona, and take to the stars in search of bigger bounties.

Genetic Modification is popular on Grule, the more wealthy enjoying it for the novelty value and felons using it to acquire natural weapons. Jabbers uses it for both, and has undergone extensive modification to become a hybrid mishmash of feline and canine parts, with just a smidgen of rodent. As a result, he can track scents and see in the dark like a champion, though bright lights and VERY strong smells can seriously mess him up. He also has a fluffy tail, for no real reason.

His usual apparel is that of a Star Trader, as he often hauls cargo between destinations to make a little cash on the side. A comfortable, baggy flight suit is what he usually wears, along with tinted goggles to help protect his sensitive eyes. Steel toed boots adorn his feet, and he's sometimes flanked by a trio of Robotic bodyguards, part of a bounty payment from the Grulean Worker's Party.

He's currently in Swarm Space near Panlos, hauling a cargo of precious photosynthetic plants.

[Rakk]

Just a few more and we can start.

[Oct-taku]

Oh, I'll have fun with this....

Name: Michael Archon
Age: 41
Height: 5'11
Hair Color: salt-and-pepper-ish
Occupation: Criminal Planner

Michael Archon. Anyone with a badge and proper rank, or anyone who listens in the underground (and, erm, "under-space") has probably heard of him. A genius, a criminal, with a bounty large enough to buy 5 city blocks.

And did I mention he's terminally ill?

That's right. Michael Archon is infected with a self-made virus what he has christened "Star Wormwood." A highly virulent disease, the criminal mastermind keeps it in check with regular treatments of a mixture of various drugs and chemicals. This simple fact has made Archon even more deadly than before. The fact that, simply by toning down the amount of the drugs he takes, he can kill people by breathing on them, makes a lot of his men more loyal than they would be.

Archon usually dresses well (usually in purple/red colors), and lives with his lieutenants on a privately-owned asteroid colony. He also has a sizeable weapons collection, which he enjoys toying with every once in a while.

The main things that make Archon so deadly, and so wanted by authorities, are very simple. 1: His resources make him totally self-sufficeint. If he can't make it on his colony, he can probably buy it. 2: His intellect is responsible for a multitude of crimes, both in space and planet-side. 3: He has an entire small organization of criminals at his disposal, along with an entire colony. 4: The fact that he's a potential biological WMD.

However, it is this last thing that makes him so vulnerable. With regular doses at a high enough concentration, the virus' progress is halted, and becomes no longer transmittable until the serum wears off. At lower concentrations, it is infectious, but still does him no harm. But, if Archon were to lose his ability to buy or manufacture the components of the treatment, his days would be numbered, for then Star Wormwood would ravage his body, turning his veins black, eating his organs away, before he finally would start to bleed through his pores and die.

On top of this, Archon is narcissistic, and is forced to leave his literal calling card at every location he goes to.

[Scorpio]

Name: Mace Grayson
Age: 32
Height: 6'5"
Eyes: Blue
Hair: Brown
Occupation: Ranger

Mace is part of a Ranger team operating locally, a law enforcement group specialising in boarding raids against pirate ships and breaking sieges against criminal strongholds.

He carries a standard laser sword and small limpet mines with magnesium flash or thermite breach settings. Other equipment needs to be requisitioned based on the task.

Mace is an example of a by the book law enforcer, athletic and a decent close combat fighter, but may be too naive to go head first against Panlos class of criminals.

[Ty]

Okay, I think I've got a character. Kind of a re-imagined version of my guy Abel from the last sci-fi rp that never really got started. I realize he's a little on the all-powerful side, so I purposely gave him plenty of setbacks, but if it still feels like too much, just let me know.

Name: Nex
Age: ?
Height: ?
Hair Color: Neon Green
Occupation: Freelancer

Background:
Nex was the most accomplished computer programmer and hacker in the Panlos System, if not the entire universe. Born and raised on Panlos, he had always had a great interest in computer systems, even at an early age.

In his past life, he held the patents on many operating systems commonly used in spacecraft, most of which are still in use today.

During the war, his company went under, and he ended up buying and selling weapons and hardware to various factions to get by. Nex has no allegiance to any one planet; he just looks out for #1.

Toward the end of the 40-year war, his health began deteriorating. In an effort to cheat death, he began working on a new project: an attempt to digitize the human consciousness. He spent the rest of his life perfecting it, and finally made the first successful test of his program 5 years after the end of the war. Although successful, the strain of the experiment caused a great deal of strain on his already fragile body. He died in his sleep later that night.

---

'Nex', as he exists today, is a viral computer program. Unlike any other program of its kind, the Nex virus exhibits characteristics of sentient thought. In less than a year, the virus had silently spread to computer systems throughout Panlos, and has been spreading through space ever since. The virus is typically harmless to the system it infects, but if it stays undetected in the system long enough, it can develop the ability to exert control over the system's functions.

Most of the time, Nex likes to use his all-seeing powers to his advantage as a freelance informant. He'll usually charge a modest fee for his services, asking that it be deposited into an off-world bank account. Although they never meet, most of his clients think he's a real person, since he talks and acts so human on their communicators, viewscreens, etc.

Nex's powers are limited, though. The more complex a system is, the harder it is for him to infiltrate it. Accessing numbers off a spreadsheet might be a simple task. Taking over control of a ship's piloting systems could take hours, if not days, depending on the size of the ship. And despite his apparent ability to be everywhere at once, all instances of the virus operate off of a common consciousness. So, in a sense, he can only be in one place at any one time.

Once the Nex virus has been embedded in a system, it can be difficult to eradicate, but not impossible. An extremely robust anti-viral software may be able to destroy it if the virus hasn't been on the system for more than a few days. A strong power surge, or simply wiping the hard drive the virus is installed on, are the only sure-fire ways to get rid of it. Once the virus has been banished from a system, he usually can't come back for at least 24 hours. Most modern systems are too sophisticated to allow him to infiltrate twice, so he would require time to mutate the virus before being able to reinfect the same system.

Lastly, the original consciousness program is the only one of its kind. Nex can copy it to different machines, but this takes a long time, and in order to activate it, the program on the previous machine must be deleted, because having both run at once could crash the whole system. For Nex, this program is his nerve center; the digital equivalent of a brain. He usually keeps it secretly installed on a public server somewhere on Panlos, moving it only when necessary. In the event that the system it is installed on fails, Nex will be temporarily disabled, and should the system be completely destroyed, so will Nex.

[Oct-taku]

OOC: Hmm.

A virus and a virus.

Business deal in the making?

[Ty]

OOC: More than likely.

[Rakk]

Alright lets get this spaceshow on the spaceroad located just off the spacehighway which has a spacefedex truck turned over on the side.

...

...

IC:

Alanik Saron
Spacer
Lead Field Investigator for the Colonial Security Department

Alanik spends most of his time in space investigating smuggling, smuggling rings, various trafficking ordeals, pirates, threats to the peace between the colonies and the swarm, the colonies and Panlos, and any other threats to the Space Colonies. But sadly this usually has him boarding and searching incoming freighters that have tripped a red flag somewhere along the way.

Currently Alanik has been investigating a large smuggling ring going in between the swarm, Panlos, and then ending up in one of the various colonies.

[Griggs]

Panlos. A remarkable planet, beautiful from the outside and with a climate that's at the same time balanced and schizophrenic. Angus didn't like it, any time you were outside you had to wear an e-suit. It wouldn't be so bad, as many found it quite nice to take a stroll outside the airlocks. That was if you cared to spend the money for a good one, of course. Angus, being a cheap bastard, did not.

Of course, he'd take anything to get out of his ship, the fumes were killing him. Not that he'd sprung a leak in his fuel systems, but the soap, man, the soap. The Emerald Lady was a one piece cargo vessel, not a trailer hitch model. The only thing separating the cargo and the cab was a thin aluminum wall 2 inches thick, and that didn't stop anything as long as the air was circulating. The combined scent of 500,000 scented bars of soap along with the air circulation made for one hellish ride if you didn't have a cold.

Wrapping an old bandanna around his mouth and nose, Angus hauled ass for Panlos.

[Rakk]

Alanik was on the bridge of his frigate, the Dark Shadow. Surrounded by his crew of four they were running through a list of red flags on shipping passing through or near to Colonial space. Alanik was sipping coffee from a zero-g bulb as he preferred to keep his ship at zero g when he was out in space. Something about artificial gravity never felt right with him. Then again that probably comes from growing up on a zero-g colony.

The Dark Shadow was a state of the art heavily armed stealth frigate. He preferred operating in a frigate to a cruiser. A cruiser had a large crew and was much more heavily armed than a frigate, but he preferred the intimate feeling of just sitting at the bridge only surrounded by officers he knew very well. He never needed to tell them to do anything, they could do it themselves, all he did was pick out the red flags and how they would proceed with apprehension.

Flicking through his list he found a nice red flag, fairly close, maybe a half hour to forty minutes away. It was headed for Panlos from the swarm. Everything looked in order at first. Full cargo load out which explained its flight pattern, it was a fairly old junker and not a blockade runner, but pulling up the cargo list he found it odd.

"Soap?" Alanik quietly said.

"Found one?" The pilot, Gregoir said.

"Yes, the Emerald Lady. Set a course for its co-ords, full stealth, at 10 seconds out bear teeth then we will hail them. You know the rest." Alanik said as he sucked on his bulb and pushed himself back in his seat, anticipating the jump. With a slight pop the ship hit its full speed and the counter stating the distance between the two vessels began counting down losing hundreds of digits a second.

Worst case, its actually soap. Alanik thought.

[Griggs]

Angus was looking calmly at the planet, tracking the pinprick storm systems on it's surface, when a large object shot into view from seemingly nowhere. His computer suddenly started blaring lock-on warnings.

"Shit! Coast Guard!"

Coast Guard was trader slang for the border patrol ships in the near vicinity of planets. This ship was a little too nice to be normal Guard, but it was all he could think of. That, and how to hide whatever it was he had been smuggling. He didn't know, and nobody had told him, but no one ships 500,000 bars of soap without slipping in at least some contraband. As the hail showed up, Angus thought about reaching his scattergun, but quickly snuffed the idea. He'd be blasted into photons if he tried something that stupid. Reluctantly, he accepted the hail.

"Angus McComer of the Emerald Lady, what seems to be your problem, officer?" he said. He still had the bandanna on, so it was a tad muffled.

[Rakk]

The response was quick and sharp, "Cut redirect your freighter to the co-ords we are sending you, cut your engines at 30 clicks out. We have weapons lock on all your critical systems, so don't think of running... you're in no shape for that. You have ten seconds."

Alanik logged their current position and that of the ship and all of its associated files into Colonial systems, sure it would take a minute or two to reach them, but if all went wrong and they did not respond within a few minutes a deep space cruiser would be redirected to their location. Anything on or near the border was considered an issue of Colonial safety.

Alanik turned to his systems and security officer, "If he tries to run, fire a few wild shots and hit him with an electronic bore. If he goes I want to know everything you can get. If not, I'll install it myself."

Alanik too another drag from his coffee bulb and waited for a response.

[Khallos]

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to jump in, guys. IRL's been kicking my ass.

IC: Jabbers was in his own ship, which was currently hanging off one of the docking ports on one of the larger Swarm ships. Their antigrav field didn't make it out to his ship, so Jabbers was just floating around the cabin. Not because he preferred it that way - its just good antigrav was EXPENSIVE. By the time he'd crammed everything else into this ship he was running short of cash and space, and couldn't afford anything better than a centrifuge system in the cargo bay....

Still, right now he was floating "upside-down" in the cabin, stretching out as he finished his conversation with the ship's quartermaster over the Vid-link.

"Hehe... yeeeaah... well, anyway, i guess you guys need the plants more than I do. They should keep you oxygenated for a while, eh?" "You better believe it. Might even be able to save the tanks for emergencies now we've got enough of these." Jabs grinned. "Gooood, goooood... Anyway, i gotta 'git. Thanks again for the cash."

And with that, he signed off, rubbing his furry hands together. Hehe. Those had been worth sooo much, and even with the "generous discount" He'd given he'd still been able to make a killing... but, still, he'd best get back to work. A quick check of the registry showed that there weren't any contracts up for grab on this ship at the moment, at least not anything worth his time. He could flit between them, maybe... but with the lack of a unified police database (or, indeed, any police) he wasn't likely to find any, and he couldn't go around yanking random people off the ships in hope that they'd be wanted elsewhere.

"Hmm. Best head down to the planet and see if they had anything fun." He muttered to himself, pulling himself down into the pilot's seat and disengaging the docking clamps. "Maybe I could help out with a Coastguard raid or something on the way."

OOC: Blech, my two RPing weaknesses, self dialog and SciFi x.x

[Griggs]

"No need to insult my ship, occifer." Angus plugged the coordinates into his nav computer. "There. Ya mind telling me what you're pullin' me over for? I got 8 tons of soap to deliver here, and if I don't you'll have some very gamey and upset people down there."

In the back of his head, Angus was trying desperately to think of a way to keep the guard folks off his ship. Maybe he could tell them of the odor... no, that wouldn't work. He had a bomb on the ship? They'd just blow him up. Case of Space Herpes? Nahhh....

[Ty]

I'm bored...

I wonder what the Colonial Security Dept. is up to right now. Let's see... Hmm, investigating a red flag on the Emerald Lady? I wonder what this is all about.

Nex linked himself into the Emerald Lady's computer. He listened eagerly to the exchange between Angus and Alanik.

Oh, ho, this could be fun...

---

"That's a lotta soap!"

Just then, a little vid-window appeared in the lower corner of Angus' screen. A weird little animated character with spiky green hair smiled at him.

"Hmm..." the character said. "Well, either somebody on Panlos is really dirty, or you're hauling more than soap. Something illegal, maybe?" He winked and wagged his finger back and forth. "Naughty, naughty, Mr. MacComer. You should know better. Don't you know what the CSD does with smugglers?"

[Rakk]

"Just stating facts, our ship is at least four times faster, many times more maneuverable, close to three times the size, and packed to the gills with as much weapons as a frigate can handle without losing maneuverability. I was just giving you friendly advice from your local security frigate. Any insults come near warnings and warnings are given with warning shots either across your bow or at your air circulation.

"And as to your current situation, you popped a red flag up about half an hour after you left your port of call. You seem to have a lot of soap on board. Lets hope you are just servicing some very, very dirty people planet side. We hope it all checks out."

Alanik pointed to his security chief. The chief began taking out the necessary armor and weapons. For a freighter that small only a sidearm and scanners were necessary.

[Griggs]

Angus frowned angrily

"Is this a game? Is this some damn funny joke to you? I know your jurisdictions, you have no right to hack my systems, I've got half a mind to take you to court!"

[Ty]

"Easy, Mr. McC. They can still hear you, you know." The image of Nex jumped from corner to corner. "Look, you seem like a nice guy. Tell you what: how about I get these guys off your back, hmm? Of course, then you'd owe me a favor, but we can negotiate that later. Once you get to know me, I think you'll find that I'm quite a reasonable guy... unlike the guys with guns who are about to check your cargo."

Nex disappeared, jumping to the Dark Shadow. He started messing with the code controlling the air locks. He didn't have enough influence on this system to completely lock them down, but he could at least stall for a few seconds while the men on board tried to get the doors to open. Once he was satisfied with his work, he hopped back to the Lady and reappeared onscreen.

"So, what do you say? Are we in business?"

[Griggs]

"Uh... I-I was talking to them..."

Suddenly, Angus noticed his lock-on warnings were no longer flashing. The ship out there was floating harmlessly. In essence, it was go to jail, or haul ass. Somebody was hacking his system and theirs from the outside somehow, and if he wanted to help, so be it.

OOC: I think Rakk should get at least one post in here, holding off till then.

[Rakk]

OOC: So people know, Alanik is not so much a hard ass, as much as he just gets the job done. No matter the number of rules he has to break to do it. Its why his general modus operandi is go in full teeth bared, make the other person not so cock sure, and then cut a deal or otherwise do whatever is necessary to get the mission done. Think along the lines of Spartan form Demolition Man... but with less of a moral code.

"Uh, sir, someone just hit our sensors, we lost auto-lock. I can aim manually, but we've probably lost auto-chargers and auto-guidance. Its safe to say that our security is still up and we have manual control." His security chief said.

Alanik nodded and answered Angus and his protestations, "Whatever might affect the Colonies is my business and is within my jurisdiction. You have three options, run, which could be messy on your end, let us check your cargo, if you give us the name or alias of who you are delivering to and from you won't be responsible for anything other than soap. Or pull some form of combination of the aforementioned choices you have."

Alanik was given the thumbs up from his team, security could manually hit the freighter. Or at least damage it enough to have some uncomfortable questions asked on the surface.

[Oct-taku]

Meanwhile, on a nearby-asteroid colony, one that had never been properly named (though it was in the "system"), and that the locals simply called "Home", someone had stepped in it. Deep.

"Mr. Hanlon." Michael Archon began. "I'm afraid that, after that failed raid on my adversary's family mansion, I just can't allow you to continue under my employ. But, you were an excellent employee, other than these massive failures of yours recentlyTherefore...." he snapped his fingers, and a simple revolver with a single bullet was pressed into his hand. Archon placed it on Hanlon's desk.

"I haven't yet had my medication today. So, your choice. Die like everyone else who failed me, or go out with at least a bit of honor." Archon turned with his two bodyguards and left Hanlon's home.

A gun went off inside.


OCC: Ugh. Weak post.

[Griggs]

Angus stroked his Trader's beard a bit. He could run, but dammit Jim, he was a trader, not a pirate. Being on the run from colonials is not how he conducted business. Yet, he was absolutely sure he was smuggling something, as his contacts had given neither name nor number and the people who had loaded his ship refused to talk to him. All he had was a dock to drop the stuff off at, and he hadn't asked questions because they'd paid well.

In retrospect, he should have expected something like this.

"All right, how's about this:" he said to Alanik, "All I know is the address I'm supposed to deliver to. For all I know, I'm hauling soap, but if that's not all you've got no one to blame but the delivery boy. So why don't I go down to the surface and you follow me, and you can check the cargo with the people who bought it. Deal?"

He muted his out line for just a second and turned to the avatar on his screen. He had the bandanna on so nobody on the other screen would be able to tell he was talking.

"Whoever you are, whatever you are, don't mess this up for me. I'm not going to jail because some hacker decided to have a little fun. Not that I can do anything about it, but I won't partake in your game."

He unmuted his com.

[Ty]

Nex frowned. "Some fun you are. Well, suit yourself. I've got plenty of potential playmates. I guess I'll leave you alone. But hey, if you ever change your mind and decide you're up for some fun, don't hesitate to ask. Just turn on your mic and say 'Nex to Godliness', and I'll show up in a flash. Live long and prosper."

With that, Nex's image disappeared, and he left the Emerald Lady. As always, he left behind a small, almost undetectable piece of code on the system. It was completely harmless, but it would alert Nex if Angus ever said the magic words.

Back on the Shadow, Nex waited quietly and watched to see how Alanik would respond.

[Rakk]

Alanik took another drag on his coffee bulb, it was nearly gone, just a few more sips and it would be gone.

"While interesting it has a few flaws, I would suspect that the current owners of that cargo would be watching the planet and the swarm. Knowing them they might be watching this right now. To keep up appearances we will board your ship, find nothing, and let you go on your way. Of course we will provide you with a present, something small that you won't notice and neither will they. Our team will arrive at your ship in three minutes and thirty three seconds. We must keep up appearances for your hosts.

"I will file a report to go along with this. Just to ensure safety from your employers. Smugglers are generally worse to deal with than the Colonial Security. The only thing worse than them can be justice in the swarm... so beautiful, quick, and brutal."

Alanik said, closing off the com link and getting into a small shuttle. He had his usual quickmetal suit, custom made pulse pistol, scanner and whiphound mk. VI.

OOC: Ty, I will just assume that Alanik knows of or has dealt with Nex in the past, as he is one of those Security types who deals in high security matters usually. Though he does tend to blow off steam between tasks on smuggling issues. He would find Nex fairly useful, or at least interesting... so I'm sure that they might have run across each other at least once, whether Alanik knew it or not.

[Griggs]

Angus closed his com channel and leaned back in his chair, relieved. No jail for him, not today. He made sure his guns were off him lest they be interpreted in the wrong way, putting them in a cabinet next to the primary airlock. All there was to do now was wait for the boarding craft.

So he did.

[Rakk]

Alanik's first sensation after boarding was that of the sheer smell. He had to cover his nose. The smell of very, fragrant soap permeated everything around him. Angus would probably smell of soap for a week and Alanik for the rest of the day.

There was defiantly something else there, and it probably had some sort of smell. Probably black market go pills, maybe high grad military stims. Those always fetched a high price among the corporate warriors and street thugs alike. Then again it could be something else entirely, you could never cease but be surprised at what people are willing to smuggle.

Walking in he saw Angus sitting in his chair, face covered, Alanik couldn't blame him, the smell was all consuming.

"No need to greet me, I hope this is quick." Alanik said.

Raising his scanner he saw that the separation between the segments was two inches of tin, and the air filtration system hadn't been working properly since the ship was built. There was soap. A lot of soap. 500,000 bars of soap, but... there was something else. It took a few moments of scanning but then he found it. His suspicions were correct, and so were those of this freight captain. Alanik placed the scanner back in its pouch. Reaching to his hip he found a small cylinder filled with a strange gel like substance somewhere in that hazy area between solid and fluid. The substance was both solid and liquid. It was a concentrated dose of state of the art surveillance technology. They would see everything Angus saw, and be able to monitor his position from a safe distance.

"Stick out your arm, and give me some skin. This will be nice and quick and we will be out of your hair once this is over with. You will have around thirty hours with this. We will be able to see what you see, hear what you hear, and of course be able to communicate to you silently. Instructions will be given later." Alanik said flashing a smile at the end, deciding to not add 'this is still much better than prison.'

[Griggs]

Angus looked dubiously at the cylinder and the gel-like substance contained within. He pulled back his sleeve and cautiously held out his arm.

"This is gonna hurt like hell, isn't it?"

[Rakk]

With a smirk Alanik said, "Only as much as you let it."

With a quick jabbing motion Alanik injected Angus with the surveillance 'gel.' It was over in less than a second.

"Now I must go and let you deliver your shipment of 'soap' to your buyers. Now don't break any laws or trip any redflags on your way to Panlos." Alanik said as he boarded the skiff and shot back to his ship.

The skiff docked with the Dark Shadow. It took a moment to equalize the atmosphere and go to zero-g. "Gaffney, take us to Monitoring Station LS-4667. As fast as you can make this ship go. IF you need me I will be in my quarters. Page me when we get there."

Surprisingly the Dark Shadow was a fairly spacious craft. He could fit a much larger crew on the Shadow without worries and it would probably improve efficiency. But Alanik did not like large crews, too many people he didn't know if he could trust, too many prying eyes. Sometimes his job took him places most of the Colonial Security Bureau did not want to go or imagine of going. But still sometimes he had to go to those dark places to get what he needed to guarantee the safety of the colonies from Panlos, from the Swarm and sometimes from itself.

Sitting in his comfortable zero-g chair he relaxed. Pushing off he made himself another coffee bulb. This was something he loved about zero-g, the way life was eased. He never needed to leave his chair to do everything he needed.

Sipping on his coffee bulb Alanik sat at his uplink screen. He could monitor all traffic nearest to the Shadow's current position. If he had the ability to process all the information quickly he would, but human eyes and brains were not meant for this level of data flow. He flipped through the flow, looking at snapshots of traffic and times. Turning the clock back to when he was speaking to Angus, before the systems went he looked at all the traffic between the two ships. Everything seemed orderly, too orderly. He knew there was something else there. He just couldn't see it yet.

Flipping forwards slowly through the traffic he finally saw it, like a flash of red coming from everywhere and nowhere, sourced on Angus's ship and off of it. It had its own unique pattern.

Alanik sighed, he recognized the pattern. 'God damnit Nex...' he thought.

With a keystroke he deleted all the traffic files from record. It took a bit of searching but he found all the routers near him at the time, carefully covering his tracks he erased those records as well. To a human eye it would look like the entire system crashed briefly, which would explain losing lock on and the systems acting up. But to Nex, he would see through the covered tracks. Alanik was trying to ensure that command didn't notice that Nex had been around, as far as they would be concerned the 'AI' was off doing whatever business AI's do. No reason to alert that large team of computer experts hunting for him.

Alanik went into the ship systems and quietly disabled recording capabilities for all vocal monitors. All the devices were working, no one would notice the difference until they docked. This would just be blamed on internal errors coming from corruption caused by extranet uplink nodes. Alanik was used to finding ways to cover his tracks by now.

Turning his mic on he sat forward sucking on his coffee bulb, breaking only to speak, "Nex to Godliness."