An Inheritance of Stars

Aftermath and Thoughts

Hienrich ghosted after Gary making sure that he got out with the sample okay. From what he could see there wasn’t much left after being crushed by that dozer droid. With his stealth suit it wasn’t much trouble getting by the Arbiters. At least the ones that were heading to where the meeting had been, those that had been around the station sector were different thing all together. They had blocked off the sector in record time.

Hmmm…..Almost faster than should happened, even if they were using the station alarms as a cover.
Maybe I am being paranoid.
__
He watched as Gary had dropped his Blaster rifle in the dump before heading out. Smart thinking Gary.

As soon as Gary was in the public areas Hienrich let him go. He changed into his civies and headed toward Omar’s to see Abdul. He wanted to go see Abdul and warn him about Crusader, as well as to make sure that Jack got out okay. He also wanted to warn Abdul about Crusaders back up. It likely that there was a Culeuxus and a Callidus on the station, That was not good, it was also possible that there was a full Quad. That would be BAD. The fact the Hienrich had let Crusader get the jump on him was inexcusable. He was also hopping beyond hope that Abdul might be able to get him a Stalker Armour suit. R ngr cyclops2Hienrich should be able to adapt a stealth cover to it, as well the suit would give him a full sensor suit and warning system. It was also really good back-up in a fight. I would be able to protect his back if he needed to line up a shot.

He was also hopping that they would get something out of the deal with Jack, and with was in the ‘money case’ he may be able to pull off getting a Stalker suit. He was also hopeful with Gary’s job coming up, well I guess that we would have to do it today, that we may be able to get something out of that.

Hienrich was worried about the virus, or whatever it was. Gary and himself should be okay, but he was worried about the general public if the virus got out. Hopefully the suspension solution would keep it inert until it was in the Doc’s lab.

Hienrich’s mind went to an old Confucian proverb, though it was more a curse for them, may you live in interesting times. Times were certainly getting interesting.

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A subtle escape

Garry peered around the corner into the main thoroughfare he had come to. He was cautious and rightly so; just before he had escaped the recycling unit, Hulik had commed in that the Arbiters were closing in on the commotion. He had escaped the area just in time to avoid a squad of 3 heavily armed troopers and 4 combat droids. He had been puzzled by their numbers at first, but now that he was seeing with his own eyes he understood: the corridor was complete chaos. It appeared that some form of protest had been happening, and had gotten out of control. Garry could see individual knots of Arbiters and droids swinging clubs and rifle butts against a group of people with signs and home-made weapons. The whole situation was sketchy, and the gunfight which had happened nearby had apparently been enough to elicit a forceful response from the LEOs…it was also the perfect distraction.

Garry backed down his utility passage until he found a garbage chute. Giving a momentary sad farewell, he disposed of his 2nd gas grenade, and his assault rifle (he could always get more, and they would be more trouble than they were worth if they drew attention or were found on him…although he kept his pistol and knife). Then with only the barest backward glance he stepped out of his quiet hiding place, and into the melee of the “protest,” with any luck he could use the distraction, and rejoin his ship in no time.

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Blood Collections

Richard expertly pulled the needle out of Freddy’s arm, and pushed a piece of cotton gauze over the puncture location. “Just hold this here and push on it hard.” He said, letting Freddy take over. Instead he tapped the line coming from the needle, watching carefully as the line of red was drawn down into the nicely bulging blood bag. A deft hand clipped the valve off, sealing the bag. Richard peeled of a label with Freddy’s name, applied it to the bag, and placed that in the medical refrigeration unit. “All done. Grab a good meal, I’d recommend some actual food, no spacerbars, and no alcohol. Lots of fluids and a good nights sleep. You’ll be good as new, and we can make sure we have at least some blood for you in case of emergency. Or utility. Send in Heinrick on your way out would you?” Richard told Freddy, and started preparing another blood bag and needle.
“Sure thing.” Freddy said, as he stood up. He felt a tiny bit light headed as he headed to the galley.

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Information

Hienrick acknowledged receipt of the message from Jack. As he watched it over again he was sure that he detected signs of tampering, but he couldn’t be sure. He was also sure that the only thing that they could have got was the sender….maybe…

Jack had given him some things to think about. But he also needed some questioned answered. But he wasn’t going to contact her through the ships systems. Not if someone was already looking into his messages. He would go to Abdul or contact her through his personal secure com, or the stations systems.

So he did what he was trained to do, and ghosted from the ship. He was able to trick the ship into thinking that it had never lowered the ramp. Though that did take a while as well, The crew slept, the Assassin walked.

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You've got mail

…..Transmission Received……
Sender: Unknown
Recipient: Hienrick Faust
Subject: Personal
…………………………………..

Gnat scowled at the communications console, she hated it when there was missing information, especially since she had already used some of her own credits to upgrade the console without Ivan’s knowledge; it always helped to appear better at her job. She bent her head over her keyboard and began working.

20 minutes later, she had something, not much, but she had hacked around the restricted ID…the sender of the message was a mercenary named Jack. Gnat smiled as the merc’s picture came up, no wonder Faust was a lucky guy.

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The bufferfly flaps its wings

Vote

Cricket stared at the picture in front of him and scowled, it had been pasted over a defaced mutant rights poster; the vote campaign was thoroughly “pro-human,” and against him. It wasn’t his fault, Cricket had been born in the bottom levels of City Downs, his parents had been radiated past safe limits for years before he was conceived. They had apparently called it him a miracle child, that is until they saw his stunted arms and hard chitinous patches on his skin. They had cared for him as best as they were able, but once he had begun to walk, and his patches began making chirping sounds as they rubbed, his parents had abandoned him. He had grown up scavenging for survival, and hated by his “fellow man,” that whole concept of mutant rights, and the vote was laughable. Cricket spat on the poster and continued down the corridor.

“Hey, you got something against voting?!” The owner of the voice materialized out of the shadows of an unlit side passage nearby. He was a tall, lanky youth maybe 18 years old. His shaved head, extensive tattoos, and facial piercings gave him a frightening appearance which caused Cricket to step back slightly. The youth stepped forward, an length of chain dropping into his hand. “What do you think boys? Maybe there’s a reason he’s so against the vote.”

Cricket turned to run but found that someone had stepped into the passage ahead of him. Turning,a third man was closing from behind. “I don’t want any trouble guys.” He pushed his deformed hands deeper into his pockets and shrank back against the wall.

The chain began to make a humming sound as it spun through the air. “I think trouble’s found you hombre.” The youth lashed the chain out, and it struck Cricket with punishing force, spinning as he was thrown to the ground, his hands coming from his pockets as if of their own free will to break his fall. The voice of his tormenter suddenly became darker and more threatening. “Look at his hands; he’s a mutant, a cancer in our gene-pool. What should we do about it.”

“You amputate” laughed one of the others; they all stepped forward together, evil smiles upon their faces.

……………………………………………

Arbiters Report

The screams coming from corridor 23J were reported to have lasted for hours, however officers found no witnesses for the brutal murder of the young mutant known as Cricket, and subsequent graphic display of his remains in front of the Mutant Rights Headquarters on City Downs.

Investigation Closed pending Lack of Evidence.

……………………………………………

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A chance encounter

Karlson entered the cafe and immediately knew it was a trap. His cybernetic eye had picked out that despite the hour, the restaurant only had 6 customers, 7 including the bartender, and they were all armed. He knew then that he wouldn’t be getting payed for this last job, more likely they would try to get the information, and then kill him. He probably should have turned and walked out, but then he would have to take care of them later; better to just send a message now. Without expression, Karlson seated himself at a center table, mid way between the corner booth containing 4 goons, and the bar where another 2 sat by the bartender.

Shortly a tall elderly man dressed in a tailored suit approached and seated himself across the table. “Mr Karlson I presume?” His accent was heavily Cantonese, yet the old man appeared to be strongly of Russian decent. “You have come with the information I requested?”

Karlson tilted his chair onto its back legs and looked insolently at the old man. “I got it alright. I know just where the Top Hats are selling the stuff.” He grinned at the slight widening of the old man’s eyes. “You didn’t know that they were in this did you? You should have, those Broom Boy scum are barely competent to know what they had found, of course their bosses are in on the deal.”

The old man’s smile was more sinister than friendly. “This information is new Mr Karlson, I suspect that my Manager will be pleased. I’m more than happy to offer you a little something extra to the agreed fee for the information on the meet.”

The goons in the cafe jumped noticeably as Karlson unsung the shotgun from his shoulder, and placed it on the table; he preferred shotguns over blasters because of the close range damage from the slugs, and the hugely intimidating blast when he fired. Moving his hands away from the weapon, Karlsen placed them into his jacket pockets and looked pointedly at the man across the table. Once the old man gestured for his thugs to settle down, Karslon spoke. “That bit of information is free, consider it a common sense bonus.” His tone was arrogant, and he watched with measured eyes as the old man began turning pink with suppressed anger at the blatant disrespect. “Besides, I strongly doubt that you even brought the initial payment to begin with.”

“If you didn’t think we were going to pay you, why did you sit down?”

Karlson’s facial cybernetics twisted his smile into a horrific expression. “I had to send a message, you know the kind…don’t fuck with me or I’ll kill you, and your little dog too.” Without pausing, Karlson pushed with his feet sending his chair over backwards. As he rolled, to his feat, his hands came out of his pockets. The pins from the 2 grenades fell to the ground even as he launched them across the room. The first one smashed the glass behind the bar and dropped to the ground at the bartenders feet, the second flew like a rock and struck the head of one of the 4 goons in the corner booth, knocking him out and falling under the table. Immateriality everyone began shouting; the men in the booth began tripping over each other in an attempt to escape, and the bartender pulled a blaster rifle from behind the bar and made to leap over; he should have left the gun. Both grenades exploded almost as one; the men at the table were eviscerated by the blast contained under their table, and the bartender was blown up and over the bar in several directions. The cafe was small enough that shrapnel flew through the air in all directions lacerating everybody. The old man was killed be a shard into his back, while Karslon took a portion of the bartenders blast from behind the bar into his side and back; fortunately his extensive cyber-ware prevented him from being killed outright. The other two men on the other side of the bar were relatively sheltered from both blasts and sustained only minor injuries. They both drew their blasters and turned towards him firing.

Karlson was hit once in his already damaged cyber leg, but since the leg was already almost useless he ignored the hit. He pulled his shotgun from the table and turned it towards the men. The two thugs were not wearing body armor. The first shot killed the man in front and sent him flying backwards into his companion, knocking him off balance. A second shot into the man knocked them both to the ground. The second man struggled to escape from under the body of his friend and to reach for his fallen weapon at the same time. Karlson calmly limped closer until he had a clear shot. "I supposed I could let you go and tell you bosses about this, but I think they’ll get the idea.

Moments after the 3rd shotgun blast echoed from the smoking ruins of the restaurant, a tall man limped out the door and disappeared from the scene before the Arbiters could arrive. What few witnesses would talk reported that his features were obscured by a large coat and hat.

An hour later, once he was sure that he was not being pursued, Karlson began considering his wounds. His cybernetics had protected his organic parts from serious injury, but both his metal and his fleshy bits needed work. Deciding that the organic components required the most imminent care, he made his way to a local medical supply store. Perhaps he could bandage himself up after hours, or maybe get the clerk to do it…once he was done, there was a small droid repair shop nearby where he could probably get some tools to patch up his augmentations.

An hour of observing the med center later, he was in luck; a tall handsome man exited the store carrying an armload of medical supplies. His appearance suggested that he wasn’t a local, and since he was both clean and carrying the supplies, Karlson figured he might just know something. He stepped out of the shadows and spoke. “Excuse me sir, are you a doctor?” He let the butt of his shotgun show from his tattered coat, “would you come with me please.”

.
.
.
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The next day, as the doctor left, Karlson reflected back. By all rights, he should have cleaned up his loose ends by killing the man, however it was rare to find someone who was competent in both medicine and repair, and willing to work with a shotgun pointed at his head. The man had worked with quiet confidence, and seemed knowledgeable about cybernetics. By the time the work was done, Karlson had decided that this man was more useful as a friend than a corpse. Hi took the doctor’s personal comm info, and gave him a couple credits for his time. If he needed patching up again, it would be handy to have someone talented on his payroll.

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Lowdown on the Shakedown Run

Gnat chimed the bell to Ivan’s quarters. “Sorry for the interruption captain, but I knew you’d want the mission report once I’d finished it.” She dropped the data sheet infront of his door, and then disapeared back into her own room before Ivan, clad only in boxer shorts opened his door.

Ivan picked up the sheet, and returned to his quarters. Sprawling across the chair in front of his desk, Ivan began to read Gnat’s breakdown of the previous 3 days:

Credits Earned (inc bonus): 120,000. ship share 60,000. crew share 6000.

Crew Casualties: Garry Sphadoinkle required 4 hours of surgury for his wounds sustained. With rest he will make a full recovery. For the rest of the crew, several minor injuries, but nothing serious.

Collateral Damage:

  • Medical Facility was almost entirely destroyed by Hulik’s explosive devices, and subsequent chain reaction.
  • No civilian casualties or injuries. Civilians were returned to the spaceport and released unharmed.
  • 5 of 7 guards (including the commander) were killed. Reports planet-side indicate that 5 badly burned body’s were found in the wreckage.
  • 1 medium sized cargo truck with weapon mount was destroyed by Faust’s share of the explosives. the explosion was apparently used as a successful diversion

Mission Resources (some of this has already been spread throughout/claimed by the crew):

  • 1 (new) bacta tank with a full 300L of bacta.
  • shield replacement parts (enough to up grade slightly or almost fully rebuild/repair.
  • 1 month of MRE ration packs, and 2 weeks potable water (not necessary but will offset resupply costs.)
  • approximately 200kg (or 2000 credits) of of basic pharmaceutical supplies, with basic equipment for a very small and basic lab.
  • materials to fill 6 medpacks, 12 medkits, and 2 surgical kits.
  • 1 combat suit, and 2 flack jacket/helmet suits.
  • 1 blaster rifle.
  • 1 heavy blaster pistol.
  • 6 blaster pistols.
  • 4 frag grenades.
  • 1 data tablet.
  • 10 blank data disks.
  • 3 vibro knives.
  • 6 shoulder worn comms devices.
  • 1 wireless video camera.

Extra Notes:

  • unknown to the employer, a second copy of Doctor Drake’s encrypted data files was made. The time stamp matches the doctors own copy, so the two were likely made almost simultaneously and the doctor didn’t notice. If more effort had been made to conceal it, I wouldn’t have noticed. As it is, I’ve ensured that client’s data does not reflect the copy. I don’t yet know who has the extra copy.
  • the crew was apparently able to talk their way around an obviously burning truck in order to convince the Umbra delivery truck to still make its drop. The majority of the value from the “extras” comes from this aspect of the mission.
  • the Doctor and I were unsuccessful in getting any information out of Doctor Drake before we handed him over to the client. As it is he was delivered in perfect condition as requested.
  • I attempted to scan the security files of the medical center commander; since we didn’t get the same quality of copy as Drake’s info, I couldn’t do much, however I did find a Pharma Corp logo on one of the files. It might be nothing, or something.

……..

Ivan finished reading the breakdown; he had already heard everybody’s telling of the event, but in terms of the ship and profit, it was good to see the final breakdown like this. He smiled; his new crew had performed well and adapted to changing circimstances and danger to complete their mission. It would likely still take some time before they were really acting together as a team, but these past few days seemed to be a good start.

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New Friends

“Thank you, Mr. Faust, for escorting me” Captain Ivan said as he took the elevator back up to the ship. “You sure that I can’t convince you of that drink? Da?”

“Thank you Captain but no, I saw a few thing, on our way back through the market that I want to pick up.” Faust replied.

“Just make sure to be back here soon. New job, maybe in few days. “ the Captain stumbled back into the ship.


Hienrick walked through the market, what he had told the Captain hadn’t been totally untrue. He had seen many items in the market that he thought would be great to have, but he had to focus on gathering the equipment and items that he would need to rebuild his kit. He needed the armour, and the mask at least.

Hienrick walked into an Explorer’s shop, it was packed with a random assortment of people, most looked slightly impoverished in some way. Skinny due to lack of nutrients, equipment looked dirty or rusted, and all of them had that slightly ‘out there’ look in their eyes, that made them dangerous. It was also packed with various bit of cast off equipment, and assortment sensor types, comms of various sorts, tool kits, security kits, any basic equipment a mercenary, or explorer might need was here.

Hienrick kept his one hand loosely at his side, and the other cradled in the sleeve of his duster, just his elbow in. It allowed him to look like was slightly gimped, and hide it at the same time. He went to a counter to pick up a basket to put his items in.
A man with a dark desert like complexion appeared, like magic, behind the counter, “Welcome to Omar’s Equipment Emporium, how can I help you?”

Surprised and startled, which was unusual, that ‘Omar’s?’ sudden appearance, Hienrick said, “ Show me your scout armours, your sensor packs, environmental masks, secure coms, and if you have any you long range sporting type rifles.”

“Yes, Yes, come this way” Omar, lifted the counter next to him and stepped out, “ ABDUL!!!, Omar screamed into the back as he left the counter. He continued to say something in a language that Hienrick didn’t know. There was yelling form the back in the same language.
Suddenly vibrations and the sound of footstep could be heard. Hienrick had to crane his neck as he looked up into the eyes of ‘Abdul’.


“Omar say you need help,” Abdul squinted at this small example of humanity in front of him. Abdul quickly glanced him over and noticed that the man in the duster before him was not in fact gimped. He could see the buts of two blaster pistols under the long coat that he was wearing. He also noticed that one part of the duster was stiffer than it should have been, Probably a sword or other type of vibroweapon, thought Abdul to himself. Not only that, when Abdul had entered the shop this one before him had, unconsciously fallen back into a stance that would allow him to draw any of these weapons quickly, but at the sametime allow him to gain distance quickly. He’s from the Temple, probably Vindicare trained. While not of the Temple himself, Abdul had been one of Vindicare’s most successful eyes and ears. Abdul suspected that this was Vindicare’s apprentice.

“You come, small man, I get you stuff,” he snatched the list that Omar had in his hand, and stomped down the nearest aisle.


“Trust him good sir. Never have I seen an individual able to help another so well with his purcheses.” Omar smiled at Hienrick.
Hienrick followed the large Abdul down the aisle. They first entered the area were various types of kits were.

Abdul stopped so suddenly that Hienrick almost ran into him. Abdul was squinting down at the paper in his over large hand, bringing it almost to the end of his nose.
Abdul turned around so suddenly that he almost knocked Hienrick over. Only his reflexes saved him.

“You fix own stuff, make better?” the large man asked.
It took a minute for Hienrick to realize that Abdul was asking if he was going to maintain and modify his own equipment. “Yes.”

Abdul nodded to the small man in front of him, maybe not so small after all, and smiled, “Is good, not always count on others to help. You take this kit, has good tool, good holder, see” he said, pointing, “has lock too.” He put the kit into the crate that he was holding in his other arm, and stompped off to another section of the store, as he walked he squinted at the list, and picked up various bits of things, a environmental face mask that was good for a scout, with a built in secure comms, a sensor package, various lenses, some broken helmets, “ You use these for bits inside, those still good” Abdul stated the onetime that Hienrick questioned him.

“Small bits done, now suit.” He looked down at Hienrick, his arms crossed and one hand on his chin. He made a circular motion with one giant finger. Hienrick looked at him in disbelief,

‘Really, is that necessary?” he asked. Abdul only repeated the motion. Hienrick sighed and complied with the man that, though very friendly seeming, could probably crushed his skull in less than a moment. He turned around with his arms out so that Abdul could see all sides.

When he was finished, Abdul’s grin was the largest yet. “you good small man, make Abdul happy, come, have suit for you.” They headed off to the back section where Hienrick could see various suits, pieces, bits etc. of armour laid out.

“You take this suit, good man have suit before, good man have it now.” Abdul said slightly sad, as if he had known the individual that had worn the suit previously. “Also old cloaky thing, is made of same stuff as suit. Fix holes in it? Yes?” When Hienrick nodded, Abdul nodded. He placed it in the crate with the rest of the equipment.

When Abdul turned back around he saw that Hienrick was staring intently at another part of the shop. Abdul glanced over at that section and saw group of mercenaries, bothering young female merc with different colours.

“Excuse me Abdul.” Hienrick stated. As Hienrick started to walk over to the incident, his movements started to flow, almost as if he had started to dance.

“Come one baby, come with us and we and we can give you some ‘special training’ “ One of the mercenaries insinuated. “ You will also get the best paying jobs.” His grin turning wicked.
“The only ‘special training’ that you have ever had is the five fingered, self-indulged kind, and from what I see,” as the female merc glanced down briefly, “that didn’t last long.”

As was predictable they got angry and started to move toward her. The female merc had fallen back into a fighting stance, but there were 6 of them and one of her.

What happened next surprised all of those involved. As the male mercs moved towards the female merc, a long extended slightly humming blade appeared at the necks of two men, and a blaster pistol was placed directly on the forehead of the man who had made the insinuating comments. “Now Gentlemen, I may be new to the Station, but I also believe that there is a general band on violence in the Central Atrium, in which this shop is located. I also believe that the lady behind me has quite adroitly told you to F*#K off. Now if violence does in-sue know that at least three of you will die first, and most likely the rest of you very shortly after. How do you want to play this?”

The man that had the gun against his forehead said, after gulping, “you are right, let’s go guys. “ They all backed away slowly. They got to the door they and looked back, as if to make some pithy comment, only to find that the man with the duster now had two blaster pistols aimed at them, the female merc beside him with her own blaster carbine, and one very large giant like make scowling down at them.

“you go NOW!!” Abdul said with emphasis.

As they left, Hienrick wondered if they had pissed their pants at him, or Abdul. He re-holstered his pistols.

“Thank you, I don’t know if I could have handled them all.” Said the female merc, extending her hand to Hienrick, “my name is Jack” When Hienrick raised an eyebrow, she said, “don’t ask.”
Hienrick raised his hands in defeat before him. “Perish the thought the thought” he said with a smile. “My name is Hienrick Faust.”

“Anyways, I owe you, if you need to get a hold of me, I am a friend of Abdul there. He can get a hold of me.”

“Small man now Abdul’s friend too, helped small you. Is good. You small man, still need rifle, you Jack go you finished, get sleep, call tomorrow.” Abdul stated waving a hand in the general direction of the door, as he walked off. “Come small man,” he said as Jack walked off, with a wave. “I have special for you.”

Hienrick was lead into a special closed room, “This Abdul’s room, only Abdul’s Friends come here.” He said distractedly as he started to search through a pile of crate. The room was packed with various types of weaponry. Hienrick saw combat gloves that he swore had vibro spikes on them, he saw explosives that he thought could take out a small mining station, and rifles that he would love to have.

“AH. Here is!!”
Abdul brought out a case. “This is your rifle, take it is Very good.”

Hienrick opened the case, and felt his eyes go round with awe. “Is very good, indeed.”

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IGN News Update - Industrial Explosion on Inequity Claims 5

This is Ian Galixton with IGN reporting from Magoros in deep within the Foundling Worlds. It falls on me to report that 2 solar days ago on October 10th, a chemical processing facility on the world of Inequity claimed the lives of 5 employees in the building at the time. Reports say that further investigation of the incident has been difficult due to the toxins produced in the explosion and resulting fire. Currently the area is under quarantine due to hazardous conditions. Names of the deceased will not be released until their families are notified. Until then, we at IGN express our deepest condolences to the families of the workers killed in the accident.

Until next time, this is Ian Galixton signing off.

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