“I want off this planet, thanks. Who all's with me?” The green walrus-lady looks around.
There's a pretty solid chorus of agreement.
“Great!” I smile, “Now who here theoretically inherited command of the colony? I would like to get paid, so I'd like someone to officially sign for delivery.”
The male walrus-like green Morlamaw raises his left flipper, “That would be me,” he takes a breath, “Bubbles Wetworth the third, deputy assistant to the mayor. I'll need to see the cargo, at least.”
I smile, “Certainly. I can show you the hold it's in once we're back at the landing site,” I could now, but I'm in enough trouble for my ‘tech’ already, so I'd prefer you not know about just how much portable storage I can manage.
“Lead the way,” Bubbles agrees.
I lead them all to The Brute, open the outer airlock, and use the Keyhome instead of the actual inner door.
Bubbles shakes his head, “I didn't believe the rumors. If I hadn't NOT seen it with my own eyes, I still wouldn't.”
The female considers, “I still don't believe it. Let's go in….”
I smile, and gesture, and yes, they climb up the gangplank and shuffle in without issues. I follow, and start suggesting as I hand Bubbles a datapad for sign-off on the delivery… and he does. “Thank you. So… I was paid to bring the stuff here… but not to haul it away.”
Bubbles shrugs, “So? We're abandoning the colony… what little is left of it, if it bothers you…”
The female stops him, “She’s wanting to take the cargo for her own as salvage, dear. It's worth quite a lot tp the right buyers.”
Yeah, she has my number, “Well, are you going to pay me to take it back?”
That makes her pause, “I'm not authorized to make such contracts….”
I figured, “Is there anyone with you that is?”
Bubbles chuckles, “No, there's not.”
I nod, “But I've delivered, and you've signed off on that. So we could unload everything and leave it all here….”
Mr. Wetworth laughs, “And as we're abandoning the colony, it'd be salvage for anyone to take.”
I chuckle, “If I can claim it anyway, I figure I might as well save the work of unloading and loading, no?”
The female, whose name I have yet to get, shakes her head, “And we get nothing?”
I roll my eyes, “I admit I'm taking advantage, but consider: It wasn't exactly yours to begin with, and you’re getting a ride back to civilization. You weren't going to do anything with it anyway, and if I don't claim it, I either need to leave it here, or return it to the senders… which means there's not a scenario where you get a share at all if I'm not involved.” I pause, “But if you'd like to stay, I suppose we can unload it all and you can use it to rebuild. That is what it's for: If you want to go that route, I'll even help you unload. If you want to claim it yourself otherwise… you'll need to arrange your own transportation for it; I'm willing to take you back to Absalom Station regardless.”
The walrus woman pauses, “You’re an evil little human, you know that, right?”
I'm pushing for this as a matter of survival for myself and my companions: It's a golden opportunity to make myself much harder to ambush, so… “Sure. But do you have any better options?”
She pouts, and I sigh, “Look, I used a trick to fight off the ships that bombed and blockaded your world. They survived, and I expect they'll account for that next time. I want to live, so I need to make myself harder to predict. For that, I need to break into the independent trade business, so I fully set my own path and schedule. For that… I need some starting lots of cargo,” which is STUPIDLY expensive… on par with starship components… which is what I'll be buying with my profits. Untill now I've just been playing the role of postman. “Now, you can't do anything with these ones: The colony is dead. Yes, I am absolutely taking unfair advantage of a bad situation… but even with that, you're going to be better off than you would have been had I not shown up, you can't actually do anything with what I'm stealing in a technically legal manner, and even at that I'm only doing it because I don't want to die.”
“You think they're after you…” it's the well-fed guy. Ah, paranoia, that's why he wasn't sharing.
I sigh, “Ships I equip can hide… successfully, mind… from the best starship sensors that currently exist. WHILE moving and firing. Yes, they are absolutely out to get my stuff. These ones even had an automated broadcast that said as much. That group was planning this, probably for months. By taking stuff from you that you can't do anything with anyway, I spoil most attempts at repeating those evil actions.”
The lady humphs, “I don't think you're lying, and I can't stop you, I suppose. Fine. Keep it. So we get nothing?”
I shake my head, “Not nothing, no. I plan to gift each of you a thousand credits to get the basics you'll need to live and work once we get back to Absalom Station.” I smile… yeah, none of these folks are particularly happy with me, “We'll get back up into orbit, I'll check for more survivors, retreive as many people as we can carry,” which is an arbitrarily large number, thanks to my ability to create demiplanes quickly, “and then be off.”
We go back into orbit, I redo the spells for checking for intelligent races… and end up going back down in the shuttle for three more groups before we're done. I do end up creating a demiplane off of the cargo plane (linked by a portal) to house and feed them all… which, incidentally, also isolates them from the actual ship.
I'll be down forty seven grand when we get back to Absalom Station, but that’s okay - the shipment pays more than that, and I do have sign-off on the delivery.
We head back to Absalom Station… and partway through the trip, we encounter Alluvion in the drift.
Yes, I stop for that. As an ever-growing, mobile city, it's a wonderful place to sell the various building supplies that make up my cargo. I look carefully for a buyer (and buff up for the purpose: Surge of Fortune to let me roll a “natural” twenty on the check, Divine Insight for a good fifteen point bonus above my default, Greater Heroism for another four, and Mythic Divine Favor for another three point bonus). As my usual Diplomacy check stands at a twenty seven point bonus, that gets me a sixty-nine… and the buyer I find is quite desperate for the supplies; I manage to sell the twenty lots of supplies for enough to commission a tier eight starship, with change… much of which I'll probably need to waste bribing folks into letting me buy. Still!
I use a lot of it to buy more cargo, of course, using the same methods: Vegetable products intended for a near space world. Expensive ones; but I have the money, and get thirteen lots.
And a side note, it is very nice that my magic isn't technically magic: Magical planar travel doesn't work in The Drift, and that includes Summoning spells… which saves me from needing to buy a forklift.
While the summons work on unloading and loading the cargo, I take some time to explore Alluvion. It's the holy city of Triune, a threefold deity of technology who claims to have found the Drift and appears to have invented the technology for Drift travel (and is indisputably responsible for spreading Drift technology as far as it has gone). The city has a roughly ovoid shape and rests atop a relatively flat asteroid, beneath which is an expanse of impossible darkness. An accretion disk composed of chunks of other planes claimed by the Drift spirals slowly into the city, gradually adding to its mass. Over time, these accretions have formed distinct rings—the innermost are reserved for the elite, while new arrivals must settle for territory at the newly added edge of the city. A massive gravity well beneath Alluvion draws in this stream of planar detritus; Triune’s faithful believe the god has harnessed a black hole with a combination of technology and magic, which would explain the unfathomable blackness beneath the city. Whether or not this is true, the gravity in the city itself is comparable to that of Absalom Station and other constructed environments, and a carefully filtered atmosphere supports most oxygen-breathing life.
A city of mostly androids, it has here all technology available anywhere. It would be a great place to refit my ships… if I was willing to stick around that long. The big problem with Alluvion is that it moves. Finding it again… slim chance. So it's a bad place to commission things when I have people to deliver… the two day detour is bad enough. These vegetables are frozen, so the extra time to Absalom Station is no big deal.
And that is, of course, where I head next.
“I want off this planet, thanks. Who all's with me?” The green walrus-lady looks around.
There's a pretty solid chorus of agreement.
“Great!” I smile, “Now who here theoretically inherited command of the colony? I would like to get paid, so I'd like someone to officially sign for delivery.”
The male walrus-like green Morlamaw raises his left flipper, “That would be me,” he takes a breath, “Bubbles Wetworth the third, deputy assistant to the mayor. I'll need to see the cargo, at least.”
I smile, “Certainly. I can show you the hold it's in once we're back at the landing site,” I could now, but I'm in enough trouble for my ‘tech’ already, so I'd prefer you not know about just how much portable storage I can manage.
“Lead the way,” Bubbles agrees.
I lead them all to The Brute, open the outer airlock, and use the Keyhome instead of the actual inner door.
Bubbles shakes his head, “I didn't believe the rumors. If I hadn't NOT seen it with my own eyes, I still wouldn't.”
The female considers, “I still don't believe it. Let's go in….”
I smile, and gesture, and yes, they climb up the gangplank and shuffle in without issues. I follow, and start suggesting as I hand Bubbles a datapad for sign-off on the delivery… and he does. “Thank you. So… I was paid to bring the stuff here… but not to haul it away.”
Bubbles shrugs, “So? We're abandoning the colony… what little is left of it, if it bothers you…”
The female stops him, “She’s wanting to take the cargo for her own as salvage, dear. It's worth quite a lot tp the right buyers.”
Yeah, she has my number, “Well, are you going to pay me to take it back?”
That makes her pause, “I'm not authorized to make such contracts….”
I figured, “Is there anyone with you that is?”
Bubbles chuckles, “No, there's not.”
I nod, “But I've delivered, and you've signed off on that. So we could unload everything and leave it all here….”
Mr. Wetworth laughs, “And as we're abandoning the colony, it'd be salvage for anyone to take.”
I chuckle, “If I can claim it anyway, I figure I might as well save the work of unloading and loading, no?”
The female, whose name I have yet to get, shakes her head, “And we get nothing?”
I roll my eyes, “I admit I'm taking advantage, but consider: It wasn't exactly yours to begin with, and you’re getting a ride back to civilization. You weren't going to do anything with it anyway, and if I don't claim it, I either need to leave it here, or return it to the senders… which means there's not a scenario where you get a share at all if I'm not involved.” I pause, “But if you'd like to stay, I suppose we can unload it all and you can use it to rebuild. That is what it's for: If you want to go that route, I'll even help you unload. If you want to claim it yourself otherwise… you'll need to arrange your own transportation for it; I'm willing to take you back to Absalom Station regardless.”
The walrus woman pauses, “You’re an evil little human, you know that, right?”
I'm pushing for this as a matter of survival for myself and my companions: It's a golden opportunity to make myself much harder to ambush, so… “Sure. But do you have any better options?”
She pouts, and I sigh, “Look, I used a trick to fight off the ships that bombed and blockaded your world. They survived, and I expect they'll account for that next time. I want to live, so I need to make myself harder to predict. For that, I need to break into the independent trade business, so I fully set my own path and schedule. For that… I need some starting lots of cargo,” which is STUPIDLY expensive… on par with starship components… which is what I'll be buying with my profits. Untill now I've just been playing the role of postman. “Now, you can't do anything with these ones: The colony is dead. Yes, I am absolutely taking unfair advantage of a bad situation… but even with that, you're going to be better off than you would have been had I not shown up, you can't actually do anything with what I'm stealing in a technically legal manner, and even at that I'm only doing it because I don't want to die.”
“You think they're after you…” it's the well-fed guy. Ah, paranoia, that's why he wasn't sharing.
I sigh, “Ships I equip can hide… successfully, mind… from the best starship sensors that currently exist. WHILE moving and firing. Yes, they are absolutely out to get my stuff. These ones even had an automated broadcast that said as much. That group was planning this, probably for months. By taking stuff from you that you can't do anything with anyway, I spoil most attempts at repeating those evil actions.”
The lady humphs, “I don't think you're lying, and I can't stop you, I suppose. Fine. Keep it. So we get nothing?”
I shake my head, “Not nothing, no. I plan to gift each of you a thousand credits to get the basics you'll need to live and work once we get back to Absalom Station.” I smile… yeah, none of these folks are particularly happy with me, “We'll get back up into orbit, I'll check for more survivors, retreive as many people as we can carry,” which is an arbitrarily large number, thanks to my ability to create demiplanes quickly, “and then be off.”
We go back into orbit, I redo the spells for checking for intelligent races… and end up going back down in the shuttle for three more groups before we're done. I do end up creating a demiplane off of the cargo plane (linked by a portal) to house and feed them all… which, incidentally, also isolates them from the actual ship.
I'll be down forty seven grand when we get back to Absalom Station, but that’s okay - the shipment pays more than that, and I do have sign-off on the delivery.
We head back to Absalom Station… and partway through the trip, we encounter Alluvion in the drift.
Yes, I stop for that. As an ever-growing, mobile city, it's a wonderful place to sell the various building supplies that make up my cargo. I look carefully for a buyer (and buff up for the purpose: Surge of Fortune to let me roll a “natural” twenty on the check, Divine Insight for a good fifteen point bonus above my default, Greater Heroism for another four, and Mythic Divine Favor for another three point bonus). As my usual Diplomacy check stands at a twenty seven point bonus, that gets me a sixty-nine… and the buyer I find is quite desperate for the supplies; I manage to sell the twenty lots of supplies for enough to commission a tier eight starship, with change… much of which I'll probably need to waste bribing folks into letting me buy. Still!
I use a lot of it to buy more cargo, of course, using the same methods: Vegetable products intended for a near space world. Expensive ones; but I have the money, and get thirteen lots.
And a side note, it is very nice that my magic isn't technically magic: Magical planar travel doesn't work in The Drift, and that includes Summoning spells… which saves me from needing to buy a forklift.
While the summons work on unloading and loading the cargo, I take some time to explore Alluvion. It's the holy city of Triune, a threefold deity of technology who claims to have found the Drift and appears to have invented the technology for Drift travel (and is indisputably responsible for spreading Drift technology as far as it has gone). The city has a roughly ovoid shape and rests atop a relatively flat asteroid, beneath which is an expanse of impossible darkness. An accretion disk composed of chunks of other planes claimed by the Drift spirals slowly into the city, gradually adding to its mass. Over time, these accretions have formed distinct rings—the innermost are reserved for the elite, while new arrivals must settle for territory at the newly added edge of the city. A massive gravity well beneath Alluvion draws in this stream of planar detritus; Triune’s faithful believe the god has harnessed a black hole with a combination of technology and magic, which would explain the unfathomable blackness beneath the city. Whether or not this is true, the gravity in the city itself is comparable to that of Absalom Station and other constructed environments, and a carefully filtered atmosphere supports most oxygen-breathing life.
A city of mostly androids, it has here all technology available anywhere. It would be a great place to refit my ships… if I was willing to stick around that long. The big problem with Alluvion is that it moves. Finding it again… slim chance. So it's a bad place to commission things when I have people to deliver… the two day detour is bad enough. These vegetables are frozen, so the extra time to Absalom Station is no big deal.
And that is, of course, where I head next.
