A few days ago....

The air at the Oasis Winds Tavern was dry and humid with the familiar scent of ale and cinammon flavoured smoke only barely taking off the edge. Seren sat back in the corner chair sipping at her drink inbeween surveying the locals. They were a mixed bag. Miners, mechanics, administrators, legal enforcers and policy makers. All offworlders with a myriad of different complexions, sizes and species. It was a good vantage point. Not far from the door, not far from the bar and with a clear view out of the window onto the main thoroughfare of the city.

At a distance, she noticed two figures near the court house and immediately knew they were United Directorate Military. Even in disguise, her keen perception had detected the giveaway traits. Over confident body language, furtive use of the head, an over use of the feet when standing still. She'd seen it many times before and it was a skill that had gotten her out of trouble on more occasions than she cared to remember. It wasn't the first time she'd seen them. The Chief Magistrate strictly forbade armed patrols on the streets of the city but there was no law against two USM troops going for a "stroll". They were time shifting the patrols by 45 minutes each time to try and remain undetected. In many ways it was a classic military tactic. Ask permission first, do it anyway then deny everything.

She took another sip of her drink, she was one of the few that chose not to drink the spice infused beverages. The raqismanna was a highly addictive substance and she suspected the powers that be used it as a form of population control. After all, once you'd acquired the addiction it was near impossible to break without fatal consequences. It occured to her that her mind was wandering and that she was avoiding the manifests and forms that were sprawled over her table. As it turned out, she would have much more to worry about....

Seren rubbed her eyes. When she opened them, a cloaked figure sat before her. Their face was hidden within the thick fabric and dark shadows.

"You know, I'm a bit busy at the...."
"We have a mutual friend", the figure interupted., motioning away Seren's prostestations with a graceful flick of a wrist, "It is vitally important that you follow the instructions on the parchment. You must do it before the day changes."
A slender green hand pushed the parchment across the table, hiding it within the myriad of papers that covered half the table. Her index finger tapped at it. "All will become clear shortly. Ask no questions. Simply do".
Before Seren could continue her protest, the hooded stranger had swept out of the bar and vanished into the bustling street. For a moment, she was stunned and confused. Then her senses came back to her and she realised she was now half standing, looking out of the door and looking suspicious. She sat down, her eyes briefly darted around the room looking for a sign of recognition or surveillance. Her senses told her she was safe and she gingerly pulled the parchment towards her. It was an old fashioned but secure way to communicate. Unlike a data pad, it was easy to hide and simple to destroy. She turned it over and read the digitally written text.

"Leave the planet now. Co-ordinates will follow when safe. Secure channel 743, use encryption pattern K-3M-4"

Seren pursed her lips and rubbed her hand along the side of her face. Then she collected her papers and drained her glass.

Whilst she had considerable skill detecting the mannerisms of others, she was less adept at hiding her own when under stress and this worried her. As she approached the main docking pad where the Persephone waited, she hoped that the customs officer responsible for monitoring cargo ships wouldn't be waiting for her. As it was, she got unlucky.
Standing at the entrance pouring over his datapad was the officer in question. He was a portly, balding sort with a dark beard and wandering eyes. This last flaw in this character was, of course, the one she could take advantage of.

"Hello miss, where'd you think you're going at this hour?"
"Oh hey there mister", she flicked her hair back, put her hand on her hip and pushed her chest out slightly, "I'm heading back to my ship. Lots of paperwork to do and that darn droid can't be trusted to keep her fingers out of the cake tin."
He looked puzzled for a moment. Seren realised that the idea of a droid eating cake was probably not an easy one so she corrected herself "She's partly organic. Has to keep the meaty parts going by eating. She's supposed to eat a carefully prepared recommended meal but she has a fancy for sweet things and what can you do?"
Stop babbling and get on the ship, she thought to herself.
"You're not loading or unloading then?"
She feigned humourous indignation "What? Do I look like a smuggler to you, I load and unload at the designated hours like everyone else!".
The officer smiled and then motioned with his hands to "calm down".
"Go on through then".
"Thank you mister, much appreicated", she smiled, knowing that particular lie had worked a treat and congratulated herself as she walked across the platform.

On board the ship, she was greeted by her companion, Elena Galewind who looked more than a little surprised.
"Yeah, yeah, yeah...I know. Back early." said Seren before she rushed past the mentat, up the stairs and started making alterations to the flight computer.
"Are we leaving mistress?"
"Immediately."
"May I ask why?"
"You can ask.....I don't know myself. Funny thing just happened at the bar. We need to go. Quit yacking and get us ready for take off."

The mentat's hands danced across the computer terminals - "Specific co-ordinates mistress?"
"I don't know...." Seren stood with her arms on her hips, "I don't know".

Sitting down in the leathery cockpit chairs, Seren pushed the button that retracted the ramp, checked the telemetry coming from in from the flight terminal and made the final preperations for take-off. Galewind sat alongside and monitored the comms channel, as she always did.
"Set it to Channel 743, use the K-3M-4 encryption"
Galewind looked at her captain, with a raised eyebrow.
"Do it".
She nodded and inputed the command into her terminal.

With a roar, the engines fired up and the Persephone swayed upwards and to the right. An horizon of ornate city towers gave way to the bleak desert and darkening skies. Looking out of the window to the planet's surface, Seren saw the Lowport and the increased USD activity. Soldiers swarmed along the ground like ants whilst aircraft took off in perfect vertical syncronisation. She muttered to herself, "That's not good..."

The dark skies gave way to the blackness of space. Stars twinkled angelically in the vastness of the universe and almost immediately, Seren noticed that some stars were moving much faster than others.
"Captain....I'm detecting vessels entering the system....lots of vessels. There is also an emergency communique from the Constable's offices..."
"Myrmidons, right?"
Galewind nodded.
"Okay, that explains a lot" said Seren, nodding as she surveyed the scene in front of her.
"We're receiving a secure transmission Captain....from the Myrmidon fleet. We're to go to co-ordinates x7354, y454, z766"
"Where does that take us?"
"Following the flight plan it gives...it's a curved trajectory...to create the impression we're leaving the system, it brings us out..."

Seren frowned as she saw the readout.  And once Galewind had entered the co-ordinates, she punched the button and Persephone vanished into hyperspace.

[log] There's trouble in them there hills...

[Log Initialised. OK ]

The screen flickers and slowly an image comes into view. The young Captain of the Persephone One sits onboard, easing back in a chair, removing the bandages that serve to protect her face from the harsh desert. Perspiration drips down her face, mingling with the desert dirt. In the background, there is faint chatter and the sound of ship engines. Almost certainly a port of some kind. She leans forward to speak...

I suppose I should update the log. Seems like the one from the desert got garbled and eaten again. I'll have to get the droid to look at it. Anyway, I'm too hot to worry about that now and there's lots to say...

We're currently docked at the central Al Raqis spaceport. Engines fixed, all systems go. There's so much traffic here that the ship will largely go unnoticed. I don't think we have to worry about the Constable. If the Persephone was on the Imperium radar, they'd already be here and carrying me off to some prison planet or worse. At least that's what I've been told.

Anyways, I have other things to worry about. Namely the Myrmidons. I was accosted in the foothills in the eastern deep desert. Now, remember that I'm supposed to be an ally. I've doing my bit for them, I'm smuggling necessary supplies from various places and doing it without the United System Directorate knowing about it. All at great personal risk to myself. I don't know what prisons look like on this planet and I'm not keen to find out so it's....advantageous to myself to be everyone's friend. After all, who knows when the USD might call on my services?

So there I am, up in the foothills and this Myrmidon female appears from nowhere, head to toe in camo.  She says she wants to know what I'm doing there and accuses me of looking for a good sniping position. Now, I was taken aback by that. Then another appears. Apparently they were doing training exercises in the area and I'm stumbled onto their radar. So now I'm on the nasty end of some very unpleasant looking weapons. They asked some questions, obviously trying to catch me out. Who are you? Where do you live? What do you do? Usual sort. Now, I'm used to this sort of thing. You don't spend as much time as I do flying the shipping lanes without encountering this sort of thing. I've got it down to a fine art. But you can't predict Myrmidons at all. Now seeing as I'm writing this log, you know I got out alive but next time, who knows? I'll be having word with the powers that be because this is unpleasant for my good self. 

Hang on..

In a whirlwind of commotion, another figure comes into view. A feminine shape....a blue-toned female clad in a dark skintight uniform. She has striking white hair and deep blue eyes. She mutters something into her mistress's ear who looks back at her astounded..

What do you mean my hotel bill is overdue? I told you to pay it....

No credits? What do you mean no credits? 

[Log Terminated]

[log] An Eventful Day

[Remote Log Initialised. OK]

Been quite a day. I've just made a lucrative new deal with the Myrmidon Order that should ensure we can continue to meet the running costs of our supply depots, repair the Persephone One and should things proceed as planned, we might be able to extend to purchasing a new ship. I'll admit to a sense of unease working with them considering they've already marooned me on Araxes by shooting me down. I'll have to keep my eyes peeled and my ear on the ground and use the situation to my own advantage.

Currently at the pre-battle celebration on the Myrmidon homeworld of Praxis. This is a custom of theirs I'm led to believe. I travelled on the Orion Advocate's deep space shuttle so I'm starting to make connections in high places.

Botany Bay is proving to be a useful area for extending our business plans.

When we return to Araxes later, I'll meet up with the crew and discuss our options.

Seren out.

[log] Checking in...

[Initialising Remote Log. OK]

Booked into a hotel. It's seedy and the bed has seen better days but it beats the chairs on the Persephone any day. I know this sort of place. A nod and a wink and a "mind your own business" approach, which suits me down to the ground. Might be a good place to do business away from prying eyes.

Persephone One is hidden in the desert until things cool down so I'm investing the last of our free cash on a runabout to get me around. It'll do for the time being. Anyways, I've located a repair shop called the Monkey Wrench. As soon as I find the proprietor, I'll see about getting the navigational computer fixed. Meanwhile, I'm going to take a look around and soak up a bit of local culture.

[log] [Initialising....]

Crackling.....the screen flickers intermittently
"....maybe if you reconfigure that...yeah, push that in there. No, IN, you're pulling it out..."
Static and white noise. Then a rolling, blurry mix of purple and green
"..YES! We have visual! "
With a fizzle the screen returns to static
"No, no, no, no, no. Whatever you just did, undo it."
Abruptly, an image. A young-ish human female. Porcelain skinned, dark purple hair. Green shirt opened flatteringly. She looks into the screen, her face too close as though she's looking through it.
"A-ha! There we go. If nothing else, I'll be able to talk to myself into the early hours. After all, what's a captain without a captain's log, eh?"
She pulls back looking satisfied and then turns to someone off screen..
"Why are you looking so offended? Well obviously I can talk to you...."

With a crackle, the screen jolts back to black. 

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Initialising Log. OK]

An unknown period of time, probably a few hours. The young woman is back, with grime on her face and clothes looking tired but not exhausted. She relaxes into the chair. Somewhere in the background there are inaudible raised voices.
"They're arguing again. Incredible..."
She looks into the screen and points a finger.
"Make a note. Make sure your droid gets on with the rest of the crew before you procure them. Otherwise, your life is hell."
Relaxing back into the chair, she runs her hand through her hair, ruffling it up.
"Anyway, I'd better get started with this. Hello there. I'm Seren Undercroft, I'm the captain of this ship, for better or worse. This is the first log using this new datacorder. It looks like we lost the old log during the attack which is probably for the best...."
From somewhere off-screen, the male synthetic voice murmurs something.
"Hmm? What's that? No, not because it's incriminating...". She turns towards the screen to make the point. "Not because it's incriminating!"
"Wait a moment. What's that? Why am I introducing myself? Because I have to feel like I'm talking to someone otherwise I'd feel like I was going mad. Why am I explaining myself to you? I'm the captain. Go and make yourself useful".
She turns back to the screen, this time with a more definite sense of purpose.

"It's been a hectic few weeks. We've recently secured a licence to trade on the planet Araxes. Not just any old licence either. This one lets us trade spice too. SPICE! A handful of this spice can buy a house on some worlds. A decent house at that. So, like so many before me, we're coming here to make our fortune but if it were that easy everyone would be here. So let's fill you in on what's going down....."

"Going down...that's a bad choice of words really. A few days ago, we were caught up in a orbital conflict between the United Systems Directorate and the Myrmidon Order. We think a Myrmidon cruiser got a direct hit, well whatever happened it was enough for us to make planetfall. We barely got the engines restarted in time. A minute later and they'd have been picking up wreckage for months. We hit a sand dune just outside of Al Raqis, Araxes's capital city. If we'd hit the city or the refinery, there would have been massive casualties. Anyway, it's hard securing replacement parts especially when the Myridions are blockading trade routes. We fixed the thrusters but we can't use the hyperspace engines without a navigational computer and that is toasted. Spare parts are few and far between in this part of space. Pretty much everything is. It didn't help matters that the Constable seemed to be checking out the Persephone. She was flown by the Magenta Corporation for a little while. They ain't exactly the most law-abiding folks but I tried to cleanse the ship of all incrimiating info as best I could. Still, it's something else to worry about. "

"We moved the ship on thruster power to the new colony in the south. I figured we'd fit in and in the hustle and bustle people would just assume we're with them. I want to lie low until things have calmed down. The Constable put a call out for brave traders willing to break the blockade. Normally I'd jump at the chance but with the ship in this state of disrepair, it'd be a suicide mission."

"Okay, well I'm going off to the bar. People on this planet definitely have their priorities right. Not a drop of water on the planet but there's always alcohol!"

[Terminating]