The stakeout:

Your bribery attempt at monorail security got you a still of one of the fellows who picked up your money (but left the bag containing Ari’s bug):

And Khel’s comm unit got a quick, but full-face snapshot of the other:

That night, a couple of oo-jays, lured by the promise of money, appear out of the shadows and hiss at you. Perhaps antagonised by the canine teeth fused into their jaws, you don’t handle the encounter particularly well, but even so they spin you a story about trailing and hoping to roll someone in Surprise Crescent a few nights earlier – they backed off when they saw the glint of a weapon under his coat. He put something at the door of each residence on the Crescent. Under the light, one of them recognised him; for a fee, they tell you he runs errands at the downport.

Khel and Sar do the rounds at Starlight Plaza, flashing the mugshots they have, and spinning their own tale. From a group of stevedores gossiping over lunch they learn that several crates of valuable imported electronic parts disappeared from a warehouse last night. Roupan Pete and Tin-hand Terry, two notorious thieves, are assumed to be behind the theft. They’ll probably stash the loot in their secret hideout (“somewhere in Big Warren on East Hill”) until the heat dies down.

At one establishment, Superior Comestibles, the owner Olivia Purbeck seems to suffer a migraine attack when they show her the ACR round. Khel’s brusque approach doesn’t help matters but Sar manages to calm the situation.

Olivia Purbeck

Merchant, the owner of Superior Comestibles, a gourmet food store
o age 42, 5’10", 155 lbs.; tanned skin, red-bronze hair, hazel eyes
o She wants help tracking down a missing crate. She gives you the description & serial numbers.
o “It’s a crate, destined for me, that went missing somewhere between here and the downport.”
o “Well, why do you think I’m not going to the Starport Authority? Or the Startown Police?”
o “(Sigh) Guns.”
o “It was a crate of ACRs, if you must know. And it has to have been someone at the downport who diverted it, because it wasn’t hijacked – I’d know.”
o She thinks it was stolen by someone who operates between the Downport & Startown
o She will offer 1 ACR each to the people who track and find the lost crate

• Meanwhile you hear that more fires have been set in Startown overnight, and that the dead body of another young woman was found early that morning in a back alley. Police suspect foul play.

The older sister of one of the oo-jays comes calling…

It’s not clear if she’s trying to protect her little brother, or just muscle in on his action, but she leads Jan and Ari to Tent City in Shacktown (after uneventfully staking out the downport with them).

• On the way, a shabbily dressed middle-aged man sidles up to Jan and confides in a whisper, “Luke the Hook, the pawnbroker in Rat Alley, will pay 25 centicredits on the credit for Imperial credit notes with no questions asked and no checking of serial numbers.”

‘Tent City’
• A large tented structure, on closer inspection is revealed to be several large marquees and smaller tents, occupying perhaps a couple of acres, connected or overhung with tarpaulins, lengths of plasboard, mockwood or corrugated iron. Abutting it are several shacks, stalls and other semi-permanent structures. Some of it appears to built from or around old ship’s cargo containers. Rising from it in a couple of places are towers of wooden and metal scaffolding, with other tarpaulins hung from and over them. The structure appears to be open to the sky in some places, as smoke curls upward from a few locations. From what you can see, it is floored with sturdy sections of disassembled plasboard cargo crates. There are innumerable entrances and exits, leading into its gloomy interior, some merely flaps of hanging canvas, a few others being larger open entrances with small knots of people passing through or loitering in them.

The oo-jays aren’t much use in Tent City (they’re clearly not welcome), and it’s very difficult for you to follow people in Startown – crowded spaces are chaotic, so it’s hard to keep people in sight; in more open spaces, obvious offworlders really stand out – doubly so, in Tent City. Nevertheless Ari fashions another transponder bug and you pay some oo-jays to plant it on one of the suspects as he walks the Boulevard, who turns out to be Roupan Pete. Sar tricks a mapgrid overlay onto a satellite feed and Ari uses her Navigation skill to figure out roughly where in the structure Pete is holed-up. Merv takes you on a morning fly-over and you notice that the level of activity at this time is far less than it was later in the day. You also notice there are a couple of points open to the sky (above large, communal cooking fires), close to where the transponder stopped its journey.

A few days after you move in at the boarding house, you’re having tea. It’s late evening, darkening and slightly chilly outside; warm & cosy inside.

After a splendid repast, Ma asks you for help. She explains that the two big criminal gangs that control Startown usually leave Surprise Crescent alone. Some years ago a group of the residents of the time taught them that it wasn’t cost-effective to collect protection money there.

Recently, however, some new guys have tried to frighten the Crescenters into paying protection money. Unfortunately, many of the people who fended off the two big gangs eight years ago have moved away since then. The current residents aren’t up to dealing with a whole bunch of thugs (though one or two may be able to help).

They can’t ask the police for help, because technically they’ve no right to live in their houses (indeed, the houses themselves are illegal), and it would be much too expensive in bribes. And they definitely don’t want the two big gangs to become conscious of their existence again. They simply have to keep under the radar. So Ma hopes that your group can help.

• Ma Mossett says the first message arrived one week ago – a crude, unlit firebomb was left on everyone’s doorstep, together with a note: Your contributions to the cause will be welcomed. We shall be calling. It was sent to her and the other residents of the Crescent.
• Then she shows you a bullet – Advanced Combat Rifle (ACR) ball ammunition – and says it was left last night, together with a key to a locker at the monorail station, with a number on it; the other residents also got keys, with different numbers. This time the note demands CR500 from each of them. She asks if the group could have a snoop around, find out who is putting the frighteners on the Crescenters.
o “Something similar happened eight years ago. The East Hill Gang and the Ishimiri Mafia both tried to muscle in on us. My brother-in-law Beau, who happened to be on Regina at the time, organized some of our kinfolk and some of the locals and convinced both gangs to leave us alone. Unfortunately, there aren’t many of that crowd on Regina today. Beau’s off chasing rainbows, Cain Markham moved back home to Madzaki, Mariko married that pioneer and went to Forboldn… There is one guy who could be a great help. His name is Cliff Westwood, lives in a small hovel off the Boulevard. Ex-military of some kind and tough as nails. Trouble is, he’s a bit of a recluse. More than a bit, actually. I’ve no idea how Beau convinced him to help the last time, but somehow he did, so it is possible.”

• Roy Montjeux’s two-centicredits’ worth:
o “Criminal scum! There are far too many of their like, preying on honest people. Did you know someone is starting fires in the Vargr Quarter? It won’t be long til someone is killed!”

Ma Mossett suggests Father Patrick
Father Patrick ‘Mon’ Oshiro
o A tall heavyset man in clerical garb; no preacher, believing that while saving people’s souls may be important, you first have to keep them alive, then give them a little hope, then you can start to worry about their souls
o age 66, 6’1", 180 lbs.; olive skin, greying black hair, brown eyes, heavy build
• The Startown Refuge: The refuge is a charity hostel cum clinic funded by the Abbey of St. Mathew in Credo, but the religious connection is kept very low key.
o “Here, let me help you.”

• He suggests the Payans, local loafers, bored rich kids
o “Hmmm, sounds like trouble to me. Trouble could come from lots of places in Startown… but my guess wouldn’t be the criminal gangs or the Police; they tend to be more professional and in-the-open than that; they want people to know who they’re dealing with. I’d say amateurs, someone younger, testing the waters.”
o “It could be youngsters from any of the refugee groups – perhaps the Payans, they tend to be a bit rowdy. Or have you considered that it might be people from outside the community? Lots of well-to-do youngsters from Atora come ‘slumming’ here, looking for thrills – and some of them can be quite callous.”
o “Not the oo-jays, definitely no, not their style at all. Smash-and-grab is more their line.”

• A street noodle vendor complains to you that the oojay gangs are a confounded nuisance. He has to keep a sharp eye out all the time to prevent them from stealing stuff off his barrow.

Owapefab
o a Bawapakerwa-a-a-awapawab (Bwap) bureaucrat working for the Starport Authority on Regina Highport; thinks that a properly formulated regulation is a thing of beauty and a joy forever, but he reserves his reverence for rules that make sense
o Bwap male, age 29, 4’8", 160 lbs.; greenish-yellow skin
o Finds comfort and security in complexity; Hates to hurry
• The Startown Community Center: A volunteer based private organization that tries to provide a bit of education for the ‘UJs’ (Unregistered Juveniles). It has no fixed location but moves around to avoid raids by the Juvenile Welfare people. One of the volunteers is Owapefab.

o “Greetings. My name is Owapefab. I’m employed by the Imperial Starport Authority as Third Deputy Superintendent in the Office of Berthing, Ship Services Department, Regina Imperial Starport, Orbital Component. Allow me to suggest that you return to the young woman her purse.”

Oojays
o ‘Undocumented Juvenile’. An Undocumented Person under the age of 18, although many use the term only for those under 12. UJs are hunted by the Reginan Department of Juvenile Welfare. The pre-teens band together in gangs and hide out in abandoned buildings and in the sewers.

o “Moop it, you old gam!“
o “You trudeing, gaff?”
o “30-something? That’s archaeological!”
o “Yaaah!”

Reginan Street Slang
Coat: To be all over someone like an overcoat (or possibly like a coat of paint). Usually much the same thing as to trude, but it can be used in a positive sense. A bodyguard who coats his principal is just doing a good job.
Crock: To cripple or maim.
Gaff: Old man (anyone over 12 years or so).
Gam: Old woman (anyone over 12 years or so).
Mitt: To grab or to paw someone.
Moop: Initial-slang: To mind one’s own business. Derived from the age-old insult ‘myob’ (“Mind your own business!”).
Juwe: Anyone from Juvenile Welfare (not to be confused with ‘juvie’, a juvenile (Never used by oojays).
Trude: Verb derived from the phrase ‘To intrude on someone’s personal space’.
Unmitt!: “Let go of me!”
UP (Pronounced ‘yoo-pee’): ‘Undocumented Person’. Someone who is not registered in the Reginan data banks, or someone who doesn’t want anyone to track him down through the data banks. Many UPs are criminals, but there is also a subculture of people who just don’t want the government to interfere with them. UPs don’t have or won’t use ID cards, which means they can’t have bank accounts, legal jobs, subsidized health care, public education, or anything else that requires the use of one.

• Monorail station cameras
o You see a feed of the lockers – and it gives up the faces of two loafers

• Sar overhears an out-of-work mercenary in Brubeck’s bar telling the bartender of a mysterious master criminal called The Schemer who plans ingenious capers and sells the plans to others to carry out. A friend of a friend worked on a Schemer job and it went off without a hitch. Apparently the victim hasn’t even realized that he’s been robbed yet, and that was months ago!

Olleneg Agate contacts the crew to catch up, asks you where you’re staying, advises against the same hotel; advises you look at a boarding house in Startown run by a friend of hers, Ma Mossett.
• “You don’t want to stay at that place again, I’m sure – I didn’t want to say anything last time, but it’s well-known for being frequented by all sorts of criminal types. Why don’t you come and look at a place I know, run by a very good friend of mine. Clean – and reasonable!”

The Highport shuttle lands early evening, the sun is low in the sky, there’s a light wind, with a bit of dust being blown up by the breeze. You’ve touched down in front of the covered walkway that leads to the main building of the Credo Down Starport. You shoulder your holdalls and follow the other passengers out of the shuttle. For once the baggage has been unloaded promptly; you grab your bags from the conveyor belt as it rolls past you and move towards the gate to the big lobby. You cross the line that separates Imperial territory from Reginan without slowing down. All the formalities have been taken care of on the Highport orbiting above. Your baggage has been through customs, your weapons are safely stowed in a locker.

Ahead of you some of the shuttle passengers head towards a corridor beneath a huge sign proclaiming that this is the way to the long-term parking facility, but most go out through the gleaming crystal doors that lead to a big open square. You pause on the steps and look around. To your right is an area where dozens of cabs hover, waiting to pick up passengers and fly them anywhere they want. Beyond them is the local Spacefarers’ Hotel, only 25 or 30 stories tall, its chameleon surfacing displaying advertisements for local goods and services that look no different from what you’ve seen on scores of similar hotels on scores of other worlds. To your left is an unusually low, irregular building, no more than five stories high anywhere, marked by the logo of the Travellers’ Aid Society and nothing else. Beyond that is a taller building covered from side to side by a huge Imperial sunburst. This is the Imperial consulate. Opposite you is a big, gaily coloured building on pillars that separates this plaza from another one beyond, but allows pedestrians to pass beneath between them. The monorail lines run into and out of this building.

More shuttle passengers peel off and take cabs or enter the hotel, some of them carrying a single bag, others trailed by porters hauling big piles of baggage on grav pallets. You hesitate for a moment, pondering whether to check into the hotel or check out Olleneg’s friend, but eventually you decide to for the next plaza.

Most of the remaining passengers go up the escalators marked ‘Credo’ or ‘Atora’ as they pass under the monorail station. The new plaza is surrounded by a half circle of modest-sized towers, maybe a hundred stories tall or thereabouts. In the middle is a small park with a statue of some god or ruler or politician being stern or noble or constipated. The towers look neat, well-kept, and high-end; any hotels in any of them might be beyond your means. There is a gap between the two northernmost towers and you resolutely make your way through it.

It is like entering a completely different world. A broad lane lined with vending booths leads north, but apart from that, the whole area is covered by small buildings made of all sorts of materials. Plywood, plasboard, brick, ceramic tile, construction foam… even the occasional piece of chicken wire, canvas, and tarpaulin. In one place the ‘buildings’ have been piled on top of each other in a mound several stories tall. Further away real buildings and towers of crystaliron, permacrete, and synthiglass can be seen over the top of the shacks, but it looks like more people in startown live in these flimsy ‘houses’ than in real buildings.

There are people everywhere. Small parties of well-dressed people escorted by grim-looking bodyguards are browsing the stalls and peering curiously at the many bars, gambling dens, skin-art parlours, and similar establishments that seem to be the only sort of businesses represented on this lane — apparently known as ‘The Boulevard’, according to a snatch of overheard conversation. Outside each door gaily clad barkers tout the delights of their particular establishment. Starship crewmen in gaudy shore-going rigs rub shoulders with unemployed spacers in threadbare shipboard coveralls. A pack of Vargr youngsters in clothes that outshine even those of the off-duty spacers swagger down the Boulevard, warily eying a gang of Human youths in some sort of colorful ethnic garb as the two groups edge past each other. You notice that both gangs give a wide berth to a small group of raggedy pre-teens with feral eyes armed with toy squirt guns and wonder what noxious substance might be in those guns.

Out of the corner of one eye you notice a small furtive woman edging closer. You turn your head the tiniest amount and raise an eyebrow. The would-be pickpocket smiles weakly and immediately starts edging away again. To the other side three men and a woman are looking at you speculatively. You look directly back and grin invitingly, but the quartet evidently decides that you are a poor prospect and turn away.

Surprise Crescent is a small, vaguely crescent-shaped open space in the tangle of temporary structures to the south of the Vargr Quarters, a little out of the way of the major thoroughfares. The Crescent is filled with shady trees, flower beds, and comfortable benches. The surrounding buildings are far sturdier than the Startown norm, being built of bricks, permacrete blocks, mockwood planks, and other, similar, materials by people who expected to live in them for the foreseeable future. The inhabitants are solid, middle-class citizens with jobs and steady incomes – definitely not average Startown residents. Over the years they’ve replaced a wall here, added an extra floor there, hooked up a bit of plumbing hither, tapped into a water main yon, until by now most of the structures are as solid and well-equipped as any legal building (more so in the case of most of Startown’s legal buildings, which are in notoriously bad repair). One of the Crescent’s most prominent inhabitants is Ma Mossett.

Ma Mossett
o a retired scout who runs a tight ship with clean rooms, good food, and reasonable rates; has a soft spot for former Imperial servicemen and young people
o age 68, 5’7", 185 lbs.; dark skin, grey hair, warm brown eyes.
o “You have the look of thirsty travellers; I’ll put some tea on – unless you’d prefer a cold beer?”

There’s only one other guest at the moment:
Roy Montjeux
o A quiet unassuming man who doesn’t make much of an impression on his surroundings. He is a clerk of some kind with Gemstone Starliners, a shipping line.

Kfakfuethouthksue
o The captain of a visiting Vargr merchant ship; visiting Ma Mossett’s to talk business with Roy Montjeux.

The SpA has informed you that you will need to file a claim with the Imperial Salvage Office at Government House in Atora on Regina.

The ISO is relatively helpful & informs you that you will also need to file a registry document with the Duchy of Regina Ship Registry Office (also at Government House); the SRO is notoriously slow-moving and for a nonstandard case like this, the ISO officer advises you to start right away.

At the SRO, you are bounced from receptionist to clerk to supervisor to administrative assistant to administrator to chief supervisor to assistant to the administrator to general supervisor to district administrator to deputy executive to … be told that you need 5 forms, properly signed and countersigned, in quintuplicate, by officials at the SpA & the ISO and the appropriate authorities in the system where the ship was salvaged.

A strange procession makes its way through the corridors of Government House. A visiting delegation of Llellewyloly (vulgarly known as ‘Dandelions’ or ‘Dandies’).

The Annic Nova needs to berth at the highport (it’s unstreamlined, except for its pinnaces – and Regina COACC is not inclined to allow them planetside). The Annic Nova is small but has no landing gear, so she can’t berth inside a bay; she needs a hangar cradle, but she’s of a nonstandard design, so Berthing will need to get their vac monkeys to configure one specially.

SpA Ship Services Directorate officer
She is overworked, harassed, absent-minded, but doing her best to get the job done.

o “I’ll ask Berthing for their boat jockeys to tug you in.”

o “I’ll contact Berthing, get their vac monkeys to give us a quote.”

o “You know, I really envy you free trader types; got a ship, can go anywhere you want – now you’ve got two o’them! Hmph! Don’t suppose you could spare one?”

Berthing gaffer
A large, muscular, middle-aged man; constantly looks over the top of your head. Has an insincere smile; he knows he holds all the cards.

o “Weeellll, a ship that size, that configuration, that … shape? I dunno, we’ll have to secure her with spidercables first, to make sure she don’t go bumping around out there, and then we’ll have to take careful measurements, put together a custom rig… Could take a while. And it’ll cost yer.”

o “We don’t want to make any mistakes, do we now? That wouldn’t look good for the Directorate at all, important ship like this, all the interest there is in it.”

A crowd of bystanders gathers at nearby viewing ports & the nearest airlock, which becomes a scrum – wanting to buy the crew drinks, buy souvenirs / a guided tour; one entrepreneur wants to buy shares in the ship and go into business together, turn it into an attraction, ‘the Ghost Ship’; B is pulled to one side by a news team & is telling them all about Presley’s reaction.

Afflin Gelb
A large, earnest, sweaty man. Wears a shiny suit, carries an attaché case, talks very fast.

o “Hello, my name is Afflin Gelb, here is my card. Entrepreneur and author of a dozen start-ups subsector-wide. I wondered if you had considered the long-term benefits of running ship like this, oh sure she can haul cargo, but … think outside the box! Imagine, something we could promote across the quadrant and beyond – ‘The Ghost Ship! It came from we know not where, its deathly cargo already a killer to its crew!’ I haven’t got the particulars worked out yet, of course, that’s just off the top of my head. We could take her from system to system, you see – a travelling museum! I have experience in promotion of course and contacts across a dozen systems. For shares in the ship, or an equal share of the profits…”
o “I have bona fides from scores of clients; here, let me comm them to you…”

The ISS & university teams beg the PCs not to allow this; the ship is under the legal jurisdiction of the SpA but entrusted to care & responsibility of the party – it’s a grey area to make sure the authorities have their backs covered.

Research teams
Two teams of a dozen or so nerdy types; earnest, ambitious, excited, bossy.

o “Please! You must declare a total moratorium on visits to the ship – think of the implications! All that data which could be lost – souvenir hunters grabbing whatever they fancied, tramping all over a valuable alien artefact!”

o “We can’t allow this valuable artefact to fall into the wrong hands!”

The sophontology team from the 6 Sisters includes a certain Sidell Nuri…
Respectable, snooty, convinced of his own worth; cares for nothing and no one but his research and would go as far as necessary to safeguard it against anyone who got in its way. Hates Sar with a vengeance.

o “You!!! Again!!!”

o “If it wasn’t for the funding I wouldn’t even be here; I need to be out in the field, not poking round some dusty old ghost ship!”

First, you talk with INS liaison at the highport to lift their quarantine. The INS technical team need to declare the Annic Nova safe.

INS liaison officer
She is official, by-the-book, but helpful & genuinely curious about the ship; youthful, freshly-scrubbed, neatly-pressed, well-spoken.

o “Well, until we receive confirmation from the decontam team on Forboldn…”
o “It seems she’s likely to remain a ghost ship for a while, then, ha-ha!”
o “It seems our technical team have found no reason to maintain the exclusion zone around the Annic Nova so you’re free to dock at the highport. Please do not leave the system without filing a proper flight plan, however. The boffins still want to turn the ship inside-out, and with more time, there’s no telling what they may find, so we’d like to keep her on a short leash for a while.”

Meanwhile, the 6 Sisters & IISS research teams are asking to board; the TNS & system media clamouring for exclusive filming rights.

6 Sisters director of research team
A middle-aged, greying, easy-going; commands a keen, bustling, slightly eccentric team. He’s affable, with a twinkle in his eye and full of stories.

o “We’d like to take samples of the materials you found on-board; make a complete recording of the artefact and study the recordings you made during your initial investigation; analyse its data banks; make test runs on any nonstandard equipment…”
o “You know, this is the sort of thing might get you an ‘in’ with the local branch of the TAS. I’m a member myself; I could drop a word a word in the right ear, if you’d like…”

Petara Yrsa
Slightly glamorous, used to being the centre of attention but business-like. Good at the art of gentle persuasion.

o “We’d need exclusive filming rights of the interior of the ship and interviews with all the crew members involved in the salvage operation; of course we can pay, but our funds are modest. To be frank, the Regina media may offer you more, but their coverage tends to be a bit, how should I put this? Histrionic?”
o “Honestly, I don’t want to put our competitors down – Regina media’s easily the best in the subsector, apart from TNS, that is.”

The INS eventually relent; there’s nothing they can do to hold the Annic Nova, which is cleared to dock at the highport.

Regina/Regina (0310 A788899-C) Date: 087-1105
The Federated Ship Builders Union has expressed cautious optimism at news today that planned redundancies at the General Shipyards main facility in Regina have been averted. The announcement was made to workers this morning.
In the past year General Shipyards, a Spinward Marches subsidiary of General Products, LIC, has had a number of contract cancellations. Neither the Imperial Navy nor General Shipyards has commented on these cancellations; however there is widespread speculation that this has been due to poor quality work by General. As a result of the reduced demand, General Shipyards had been planning to mothball parts of its main yards on Regina and generally down scale its operations.
Today’s announcement must mean that General has secured new purchasers for its shipbuilding services. Industry commentators have speculated that General was looking to commercial operators for new ship orders. No major contract announcements have been made at this time however.

Regina/Regina (0310 A788899-C) Date: 087-1105
In the Credo City Court today, Kiranon Urthak was found guilty of orchestrating an attack on the computer systems of Credo Heavy Engineering Co. The remotely triggered attack was made in mid 1104 and against the networked computers. Credo Heavy Engineering stated that it caused 6 days downtime and an estimated Cr 500,000 loss to the company.
Kiranon was a contractor who had previously worked for the company. He has been sentenced to 3 years imprisonment and was transferred to the Zaralban Correctional Centre where he will serve his sentence. 4 other suspects in the case were released from custody on the completion of the successful prosecution. They had been held for between 17 and 23 weeks.

Regina/Regina (0310 A788899-C) Date: 097-1105
Officials of the General Shipyards on Regina today announced that they have completed negotiations with Tukera Lines to manufacture locally L-Hyd drop tanks for use on high capacity commercial vessels. The first production examples are expected to be available within six months, at which time Tukera Lines will begin high capacity service from the interior. Component assembly will be carried out at General’s more modern facilities on Pixie (2307-A100103-D).
L-Hyd drop tanks are not re-usable and thus increase the absolute cost per jump. However, experience has shown that the increase in cargo tonnage resulting from the elimination of internal J-fuel storage more than makes up for this, the press release explained.
The joint press release concluded by stating that local manufacture of L-Hyd drop tanks marked the dawn of a new era of commerce and prosperity in the Regina subsector. Following that announcement, common stock in Oberlindes Lines plummeted 27 points on the Regina exchange before trading was suspended. Officials of the Oberlindes Lines were not available for comment.

Regina/Regina (0310 A788899-C) Date: 101-1105
Close on the heels of the joint announcement by General Shipyards and Tukera Lines that L-Hyd drop tanks would soon be manufactured in the Regina subsector came word by express boat from the Imperial core that a decision has been made to deploy Jump-6 L-Hyd drop tank express boats on all major express boat routes. Initial feasibility studies indicate that such a system could average jump-5.5 per week by executing maximum jumps where possible, leaving current xboat units to disseminate information between the major new relay points.
The system is expected to cut communication time to the Imperial hub to under 25 weeks. The Initial System Deployment Schedule indicates that the Regina subsector can expect to be fully integrated into the network within a decade.

On arrival insystem at Regina, the Annic Nova’s first encounter is a formation of Broadsword mercenary cruisers. From comms traffic, you gather they are en route for Efate (Regina 0105). You overhear one pilot exclaim, “What the frakk is that thing?!?” and realise she is talking about your ship.

You announce yourself in the regulatory fashion, stating your identification and intentions to both the Starport Authority and Regina Close Orbit and Airspace Control Command (COACC). The following things befall you:

1. An Imperial Naval Service frigate hails you and requires you to provide your bona fides; you are boarded by a squad of Imperial Marines, who inspect your credentials. At the conclusion of this procedure, they request you not to leave the system, but to maintain a geostationary orbit of Harcourt, another moon of the gas giant Assiniboia, where there is an INS base.
2. A Regina COACC system defense boat hails you and conducts the same procedure; this time the check is performed by a squad of the Duke of Regina’s Own Huscarles. At its conclusion, you are requested not to make planetfall until further notice.
3. An Imperial Naval Service technical team in a modular cutter hails you and ‘requests permission’ to inspect the ship. This procedure takes rather longer than the previous two checks. They walk through the entirety of the ship, scanning, probing and recording …
4. A Travellers Aid Society news team in another cutter hails you and requests permission to film the interior of the ship and interview the crew. They and local system news networks in a fleet of orbiting smallcraft are by now transmitting images of the strange ship via system media.
5. Galadden from the IISS base hails you, exchanges pleasantries, and asks if he might despatch a team to examine the ship, to determine its origins.
6. A combined research team from the ‘Six Sisters’ – Regina’s network of universities – hails you from planetside and asks permission to interview you and examine the ship for research purposes.

This all takes 3 or 4 days. The Imperial and system navies have established some sort of exclusion zone around the ship, but you are able to transmit and receive communications as normal. You can talk freely with your friends who are by now comfortably installed in lodgings on the highport.

You have little to do except stay out of the way of a stream of ‘guests’, bar giving the occasional interview to the authorities, and watching your ship on the vidscreen broadcasts, in between news items detailing the worsening war of words between rival nations on Ruie, the generalisation of hostilities on Feri and the uprising on Efate.

By 130-1105 you are getting itchy, longing to make planetfall and to breathe some fresh air and taste some fresh food again…

Meanwhile, it seems that your find has been announced ahead of time. Someone, perhaps via courier from Forboldn, has been spreading the news and it isn’t long before you receive a hail from Galadden at the IISS base, congratulating you on your find. He sounds delighted to know who is crewing the strange ship, and is full of questions.

Then, there is a message from Petara Yrsa, a reporter with the Traveller News Service, who is also full of questions, and asks for an interview and permission to film the ship when it arrives. She promises to make you a star of her syndicated news feed, with reach across the subsector and beyond… You’ll be stars!

You make some polite excuses to stall for time until the whole party is together and can decide how best to respond.

The Jasper Milo arrives a day or so earlier than the Annic Nova. Time enough to let off your passengers at the highport, where they can take a shuttle to the surface. Time enough also to announce your find, its imminent arrival and your intention to claim salvage. This you do by visiting the Starport Authority offices on the highport; they ask to forward your claim to the appropriate Imperial authorities in Government House in Atora, and with the Reginan ship registry authority in the same complex.

This will require a visit planetside and, you fear, a potentially tiring and tiresome encounter with the Reginan bureaucracy…