Post by mongoose on May 28, 2007 17:10:48 GMT -5
((As no one has stepped up, and I have a hard time using the syntax laid out for us, I'll try to free-form this. If it needs altering to include the intro stuff at the beginning, after all, let me know and I'll see what I can do. Herein I'll try to show the landing, and what the various PCs feel about it.))
"Tim. Stay on-top of those scans, will you?" Kihn was giving out orders to his subordinates, strategically placed throughout the convoy. He wasn't comfortable with whatever Qali and Miksa were up to. Speaking of which, he double checked his own navigational information. Kihn didn't have navigational control himself, but he did have access to information on what was being done with each of the crew members' terminals. They were changing course. He shook his head.
"Tim, focus on the area around the coordinates I'm sending you now." He drew out their present course to its logical conclusion in his mind, taking weather, such as they could discern it through the thick ion clouds, and terrain.
"Look especially for signs of life, civilization, construction, and the like."
"Roger Wilco" came the overly cheerful response. Kihn grinned a little lopsidedly. Tim always seemed cheerful, especially when things looked to get interesting. It was hard to tell if it was just his way, if he was hiding or coping with something, or if he really was that happy with life. Whatever.
"All units, Owl. Prepare to disengage from convoy, as planned. Keep your eyes open and stay on your toes. Plans are changing as we go. As for now, report to me but do not interfere. Acknowledge."
He was greeted by a series of grunts, "eye sir," "roger" and the like, whatever the people could get away with without everyone around them getting the clue they were on a comm with someone superior to them. They were trained in security, combat, counter-insurgency and low intensity warfare, to a man. Their greatest strength, however, was their ability to operate under-cover, and to maintain that cover when circumstances begged them to come out firing. They were well disciplined, and trusted Kihn implicitly, and they would obey.
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((Forgive me if I alter Qali's character here. Let me know and I'll edit.))
Qali carried out his job dispassionately, even as he muled the implications of the new landing zone. The logic drug allowed him to do this effectively in-spite of the simmering rage it suppressed deep within him. He acknowledge it, the purpose of his coming, and then shoved it back into the depths of his conscious. It would be considered later. For now he had enough to do coordinating and supervising the landing.
To move in an hour ahead of time put them ahead of the rest of the fleet. That would make them vulnerable to any threat there might be below, but, of course, their intelligence said there were no threats of consequence. And whatever there were, Miksa would order Qali and his people to deal with. the human probably regarded them as, what was the term? Cannon fodder? Qali was resolved that in the end, whatever Miksa's plans, he would have his satisfaction. He would survive, and obtain his goal, and to use another loathed human phrase; it just seemed appropriate; the rest of them could all go to hell.
To go early would also put them in a position to obtain whatever was there to be obtained, sooner than they could if they waited to gather their full strength. Perhaps Qali would be included in that initial push on the ground. Things would turn in his favor, ultimately, one way or the other. How could they not? Miksa and all those with him were idiots, after all.
Things were going as smoothly as could be expected. His people were following orders, and doing their jobs well. They encountered some space debris in the ion cloud, and had to boost power to the communications array, and things became somewhat intense for a moment. Not a problem for Qali, though he was sure some of the humans were stressing and sweating. For him it was all in a day's work, and whether he had one thing to do in an hour, or ten, each task was accomplished as though it were the only one.
Finally they were through. Qali had no need for a window to appreciate visual beauty, as did the humans, but they'd provided him with one anyway. Something about the eyes picking up what sensors missed. It was a very green planet, plenty of sunlight, water, and chlorophyll utilizing organisms. Some small paths, probably game trails. Low hills leading to mountains, broad creeks running down through the valleys. None of this interested Qali, of course, as long as there were no dangerous organisms there. It was what lay beneath all the greenery, beneath the earth itself that he was after. No one else knew this. No one else could know it. All they could know was that he commanded the security fleet dispatched by the Kalorbi high command to keep tabs on this human mining operation.
There were so many twists and turns, politics, who was loyal to whom, and what was each party after. Qali suspected if he were off the logic drug it would either make him sick, or his head spin. As it was he simply didn't care. He would play his role, keep his eyes open, catalog everything. Then, when it was time, he would make his move and it would be done. Nothing else mattered.
----------------------
Miksa Pole glowered from under thick brows at his helms man. He was impatient. Why couldn't the man move faster? Or make the ships move faster? They needed to get on the ground and get moving. He needed to get off this ship and get his hands at the treasures down there. He had deadlines to meet. Pressure from on-high. He didn't need a whole fleet of nosy Kalorbi slowing them down.
Except that he did need them. He was helpless without them. Having looked at what was available for mining operations security, among the remnant of Humans in this sector . . . It was pitiful. Kihn's small band was the only one he could find that didn't want a huge 20% of the profits for themselves, or that he was sure wouldn't slit the throat of their employer in the night. And what could they do, all 12 of them? Sure they were well hidden. Even Miksa had to look closely to pick them out from the rest of the crew. But if the Kalorbi tried to elbow their way in, what help would Kihn and party be?
Which brought his racing thoughts back to the Kalorbi. They needed the security force just in-case some non-existent hostile aliens attacked the mine. Or so the high command said. Miksa feared they actually wanted to keep tabs on him and on the mining operation itself, to levy the "appropriate" taxes, ensure their petty laws were all followed, and maybe even steel a large portion of the product once Miksa's crew un-earthed it. He was still working through how to prevent that. Maybe if he kept changing plans, moving about, stepping ahead of schedule, they would be just far enough behind when the time came that he could escape with his share. The rest could have whatever he left behind, for all he cared, and having hired Kihn to watch over security, his corporation couldn't hold him responsible if the Kalorbi or anyone else moved in and took some of the product.
Finally they were down, and Miksa started barking orders to dissembark. Of course, they had to get out of the way of the descending city ship, the center of the operation. And from the way Kihn and his bunch rushed about, he supposed they thought it necessary to reconnoiter and set up a perimiter, or some such military non-sense. What was taking that city ship so long?! It couldn't land fast enough for Miksa. Granted, it would take several days to get set up and begin the actual mining operation, but the sooner it got landed, the sooner the prep work would be done.
And there was an uncomfortable chill in the air. Looked like it might start to rain soon. Miksa hated the rain, and immediately regretted not having brought anything to ward it off. His mood disintegrating by the moment he stumped back into the space craft on which he'd come. At least there he'd be dry and could feel a little more in-charge of things.
"Tim. Stay on-top of those scans, will you?" Kihn was giving out orders to his subordinates, strategically placed throughout the convoy. He wasn't comfortable with whatever Qali and Miksa were up to. Speaking of which, he double checked his own navigational information. Kihn didn't have navigational control himself, but he did have access to information on what was being done with each of the crew members' terminals. They were changing course. He shook his head.
"Tim, focus on the area around the coordinates I'm sending you now." He drew out their present course to its logical conclusion in his mind, taking weather, such as they could discern it through the thick ion clouds, and terrain.
"Look especially for signs of life, civilization, construction, and the like."
"Roger Wilco" came the overly cheerful response. Kihn grinned a little lopsidedly. Tim always seemed cheerful, especially when things looked to get interesting. It was hard to tell if it was just his way, if he was hiding or coping with something, or if he really was that happy with life. Whatever.
"All units, Owl. Prepare to disengage from convoy, as planned. Keep your eyes open and stay on your toes. Plans are changing as we go. As for now, report to me but do not interfere. Acknowledge."
He was greeted by a series of grunts, "eye sir," "roger" and the like, whatever the people could get away with without everyone around them getting the clue they were on a comm with someone superior to them. They were trained in security, combat, counter-insurgency and low intensity warfare, to a man. Their greatest strength, however, was their ability to operate under-cover, and to maintain that cover when circumstances begged them to come out firing. They were well disciplined, and trusted Kihn implicitly, and they would obey.
----------------------
((Forgive me if I alter Qali's character here. Let me know and I'll edit.))
Qali carried out his job dispassionately, even as he muled the implications of the new landing zone. The logic drug allowed him to do this effectively in-spite of the simmering rage it suppressed deep within him. He acknowledge it, the purpose of his coming, and then shoved it back into the depths of his conscious. It would be considered later. For now he had enough to do coordinating and supervising the landing.
To move in an hour ahead of time put them ahead of the rest of the fleet. That would make them vulnerable to any threat there might be below, but, of course, their intelligence said there were no threats of consequence. And whatever there were, Miksa would order Qali and his people to deal with. the human probably regarded them as, what was the term? Cannon fodder? Qali was resolved that in the end, whatever Miksa's plans, he would have his satisfaction. He would survive, and obtain his goal, and to use another loathed human phrase; it just seemed appropriate; the rest of them could all go to hell.
To go early would also put them in a position to obtain whatever was there to be obtained, sooner than they could if they waited to gather their full strength. Perhaps Qali would be included in that initial push on the ground. Things would turn in his favor, ultimately, one way or the other. How could they not? Miksa and all those with him were idiots, after all.
Things were going as smoothly as could be expected. His people were following orders, and doing their jobs well. They encountered some space debris in the ion cloud, and had to boost power to the communications array, and things became somewhat intense for a moment. Not a problem for Qali, though he was sure some of the humans were stressing and sweating. For him it was all in a day's work, and whether he had one thing to do in an hour, or ten, each task was accomplished as though it were the only one.
Finally they were through. Qali had no need for a window to appreciate visual beauty, as did the humans, but they'd provided him with one anyway. Something about the eyes picking up what sensors missed. It was a very green planet, plenty of sunlight, water, and chlorophyll utilizing organisms. Some small paths, probably game trails. Low hills leading to mountains, broad creeks running down through the valleys. None of this interested Qali, of course, as long as there were no dangerous organisms there. It was what lay beneath all the greenery, beneath the earth itself that he was after. No one else knew this. No one else could know it. All they could know was that he commanded the security fleet dispatched by the Kalorbi high command to keep tabs on this human mining operation.
There were so many twists and turns, politics, who was loyal to whom, and what was each party after. Qali suspected if he were off the logic drug it would either make him sick, or his head spin. As it was he simply didn't care. He would play his role, keep his eyes open, catalog everything. Then, when it was time, he would make his move and it would be done. Nothing else mattered.
----------------------
Miksa Pole glowered from under thick brows at his helms man. He was impatient. Why couldn't the man move faster? Or make the ships move faster? They needed to get on the ground and get moving. He needed to get off this ship and get his hands at the treasures down there. He had deadlines to meet. Pressure from on-high. He didn't need a whole fleet of nosy Kalorbi slowing them down.
Except that he did need them. He was helpless without them. Having looked at what was available for mining operations security, among the remnant of Humans in this sector . . . It was pitiful. Kihn's small band was the only one he could find that didn't want a huge 20% of the profits for themselves, or that he was sure wouldn't slit the throat of their employer in the night. And what could they do, all 12 of them? Sure they were well hidden. Even Miksa had to look closely to pick them out from the rest of the crew. But if the Kalorbi tried to elbow their way in, what help would Kihn and party be?
Which brought his racing thoughts back to the Kalorbi. They needed the security force just in-case some non-existent hostile aliens attacked the mine. Or so the high command said. Miksa feared they actually wanted to keep tabs on him and on the mining operation itself, to levy the "appropriate" taxes, ensure their petty laws were all followed, and maybe even steel a large portion of the product once Miksa's crew un-earthed it. He was still working through how to prevent that. Maybe if he kept changing plans, moving about, stepping ahead of schedule, they would be just far enough behind when the time came that he could escape with his share. The rest could have whatever he left behind, for all he cared, and having hired Kihn to watch over security, his corporation couldn't hold him responsible if the Kalorbi or anyone else moved in and took some of the product.
Finally they were down, and Miksa started barking orders to dissembark. Of course, they had to get out of the way of the descending city ship, the center of the operation. And from the way Kihn and his bunch rushed about, he supposed they thought it necessary to reconnoiter and set up a perimiter, or some such military non-sense. What was taking that city ship so long?! It couldn't land fast enough for Miksa. Granted, it would take several days to get set up and begin the actual mining operation, but the sooner it got landed, the sooner the prep work would be done.
And there was an uncomfortable chill in the air. Looked like it might start to rain soon. Miksa hated the rain, and immediately regretted not having brought anything to ward it off. His mood disintegrating by the moment he stumped back into the space craft on which he'd come. At least there he'd be dry and could feel a little more in-charge of things.