Mustered Out on Mertactor

052-1107

Selling the Air/Raft

After sleeping through much of the previous day, the party members are up bright and early. With their agendas now clear, they are free to concentrate on shopping and all their other business that they travelled halfway across a subsector to do.

Max’s job for the day is to get the best price he can for the Princess’s air/raft. Arvor is going to call around grav/vehicle customizers to order a grav/van which meets all their needs. Will investigates cybernetic companies to find one with a good reputation which can see both him and Max as soon as possible.

By mid-afternoon, Arvor has located a company that can customize a van exactly how they would like for Cr. 786,850. Delivery should be in two to three weeks. Arvor takes the shuttle down to Glisten City to pay a deposit and sign the contract. Grim goes with him to check out the mechanics and engineers at the company to insure the job will be done well.

Max comes back late afternoon looking glum. “Glisten must be the worst place within two subsectors for trying to sell a Collacian air/raft,” he explains. “Glistenites think that they are primitive and it’s hard to get spare parts for them. I won’t tell you what I was offered for it because it’s an insult.”

“Better to keep it for the moment and sell it on some low-tech planet where it should fetch a much better price.”

“So we might as well divvy up the cash right now if we’re keeping it for the moment. Right, so after payment for the Grav APC and Will’s Medikit that leaves Cr. 2,520,658. I was hoping that we would leave MCr. 1.5 in the kitty, but there’s not enough now. Hopefully a mill should be enough to get us through though. I won’t be spending all my personal cash anyway so can lend the trading fund some cash later if needs be.”

He divides out the cash. “So that’s Cr 100k each per share.”

“I called the local branch of New You,” Will says. “They can see us later this evening for a Pre-Med where they will tell us how long it should take both of us to recover. They can fit Renee with a new leg at the same time.”

“What about you, Jie?” Will asks. “Are you joining us?”

Jie looks uncertain. “Well I guess it won’t hurt just to meet with him.”

Will resuscitates Renee but, not really wanting to go into lengthy explanations right now as to where she is, who they are and why one of her limbs has gone missing, he gives her a shot of medical fast to keep her knocked out a while longer. Will, Max and Jie head down to see the Head Surgeon at New You.

He examines the three of them carefully and tests them to see how dexterous they are to start with. He looks mightily underwhelmed when the results of the tests come through.

“Mr. Shaunnessy, I foresee no major problems with your upgrade. You should be fine and fully trained-up inside 28 days.”

“But, Mr. Fowler – you’re quite a heavy smoker, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” Max confirms. “But what’s that got to do with anything?”

“I’m afraid you’ve got quite a bad case of lung cancer,” the doctor replies. “I highly recommend that we whip those out and give you a couple of new ones before it spreads.”

“Oh bollocks,” Max says. “I suppose you’re right. So how much more is that going to cost and how long in total before I’m all fixed up with everything?”

“Another Cr. 100k for the lungs and, in total, it will take you 49 days to be fighting fit again.”

“Awww crap,” says Max with disappointment.

He looks over at the others:

“Oh well, Glisten is a big place. I’m sure you’ll find some way of amusing yourself for three weeks while I am still recovering.”

Comments

OK, so you have 28 days of time to burn (until 080-1107). And then there will be another 3 weeks in the Glisten system waiting for Max to recover. Don’t worry about those three weeks though as I’ll find some ways to entertain you all once all the PC’s are able to function.

Please let me know what everyone apart from Will intends to do for those four weeks (in prose if possible so I can just cut and paste into the next entry on 080 – so make it past tense).

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I will hire a Weapon Master (CR 7500 per month) to hopefully boost along my Blade training (the skill I’ve been training).

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ok. Of my 700k I have spent 350k leaving 350k.

From that I buy the following ships eqt:

Janatorial Robots x 2 (CSC p.181) for Cr 20,000
Prowlerbot x 1 (CSC p.181) with Armor extra +5 and a laser pistol for CR 17,500
Repair Robots ’Spiderbots’x 2 (CSC p.182) with Mechanic-1 for Cr 20,000
K-19 ‘Karp Dog’ Assitance Drone x 1 (MP p.113) Cr 25,000
Probe Drone x 1 (CSC p.182) extra armor +5 CR 18,250
Cargo Walker x 1(CSC p.181)Cr 75,000 especialy for Jie to play with
TL 14 Biobed x 1 (TCp1 p.69) for Cr 16,000 for sickbay
TL 14 Medical Nuclear Damper x 1 (TCp1 p.69) for 10,000 for sickbay

Total to spend cr 221, 750
Leaving Cr 128, 250 to put back in kitty

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I bought the fierce Robodog looking K 19 instead of the disguising it as a proper dog.

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Are there any psycho-shrinks who specialise in deprogramming cultists etc-might be an option for Renee.

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I would imagine that TL:15 brain surgery is so good that they can just cut it out of her head.

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Jie slides down as her knees go weak from blood loss, her back scrapping against the warehouse wall. A bright red streak trails on the wall, kind of like an arrow pointing to her defenseless, crumpled body. With fading vision she looks to her gun, Black Betty, its energy spent making her beloved weapon nothing more than a useless weight. She spies her abdomen, gushing blood like a spring as her weakened hand tries futilely to stem the flow. A loud sound startles her and she looks up. More Aslan Warriors come charging into the warehouse from a concealed door. They wield Sword Worlder sledge Hammers in their claws and as they systematically crush the heads of her companions a WHOOSHING noise ensues from the corpses. (All except Grim, however. The oncoming hoard just pokes him in the chest with a pointy finger and he explodes into Grim-let chunks). Jie is helpless as her friends die one by one. WHOOSH…WHOOSH .She has failed them. WHOOSH…WHOOSH. Her body has failed her.

Jie awakens with a start and sits bolt upright in bed. The air processor of this cheap hotel room is on the fritz again. Without thinking she slams her fist into the grill-work of the Whooshing machine and the repetitive noise stops (for a while). Then the pain comes. Her multiple wounds from the shotgun fire fight begin to throb unceasingly under the bandages Will applied. She gets up out of bed and in the dark, walks to the bathroom. Her memory of the rooms layout fresh in her tactical mind keeps her from running into things. She turns on a light and in the mirror sees that the bandages are soaked in fresh blood. She’ll have to change them.

As she applies new dressings on the bullet holes all over her chest, belly and left leg, she realizes that her recent nightmare may be trying to tell her something. In the past she used to laugh at the danger she put herself into. She was a wall to protect her crew as she absorbed damage that others couldn’t take. But lately she wasn’t laughing. In fact, her worries about her inability to help out the team has stopped her from laughing for some time now. “Maybe…” she said to the bruised clone in the mirror “Grim and Taeva and the others are right. Maybe it is time for me to upgrade myself. For the team.”

She shudders at the thought. It was taboo in her semi-primitive upbringing to augment ones self. In the Corps it was mostly against the rules due to medical surgical reasons. Then the expensiveness of it, not to mention urban tales of horrendous mistakes that happened on the cutting board! But she was not on her home planet of Pagaton nor was she in the Corps. She has more credits now then she ever did and Grim has reassured her over and over that mistakes just don’t happen these days. Maybe after the Augmentations she would laugh again, secure with her survivability.

LATER….

She got the name of this place from her comm. Will and Max gave it 2 thumbs up and they themselves have just gone into the main office to discuss their upcoming surgeries. Jie sits in the waiting room and reviews her list in no particular order…

  1. Sub dermal armor plating (+3 natural armor)
  2. Neural Communications set
  3. + 3 Strength characteristic augmentation (STR=14)
  4. Muscular bridging (STR=15, DEX=11)
  5. Athletics skill boost (+1)
  6. Weapon implant X 2(Cutlass per arm)
  7. Soldier organ package…

All of which will be ruggedized, Natural looking and self-repairing. Jie understands that this will cost a lot more then she has at the moment, but for an enterprising young lady who has served the Imperium well this should be no problem. She takes from her Nobble cloak pocket a large handful of pamphlets that she acquired on the way here from various banks and lending businesses. All of whom were conveniently located on the same floor as this clinic, literally swarming around any one walking in here with their promises of lots of loaned cash for almost no payback! They were all very nice people.

She is halfway through signing up for all the loans when see looks at a pamphlet and she stops breathing.

It is a info-packet from a Glisten lawyers office specializing in medical mal-practice suits. The title states “ DON’T LET THIS HAPPEN TO YOU ” and below it in grainy focus, as if taken by a standard surgical recording device was…Cornelius H. Grimstead with… boobies?

The photo showed a drugged up Grim, naked from the waist up, being held down by a thin, frightened looking doctor and an orderly with a recent black eye. Grims eyes were groggy, one opened and one half dosing, his mouth open as if caught in mid-obscenity. He was using all his doped up might to break their grapple and then he was going to probably break other things. The picture was obviously in an Augmentation clinic, much like this one, but Jie couldn’t make out any details because Grims huge knockers were looking right at her! As tits go they were fine. Supple and firm the double D jugs seemed to defy gravity as the tussle ensued. The generous mounds of love flesh rose out of Grims’ curly chest hairs like two bald, white whales jumping out of a sweaty, hairy ocean. No matter how Jie tilted the pamphlet Grims new jellybonkers seemed to follow her with a duo Cyclops-ian stare. Below the picture was the title “A ‘Memory’ Enhancement Gone Wrong”

((Please refer to the Item Page= Grim times at “New You”… ))

“The doctor will see you now, Miss Okasawa.” The receptionist called.
“The fuck he will!!” Jie replied as she stuffed the pamphlets back into her pockets. As she stood up a gale of hysterical laughter burst from her. She wadded up her surgery list and threw it in a waste can as she left the office. She had to try three times to do this because tears were running down her face as she convulsed with giggles.

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By the way, How many shares did Jie get again?

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One share.

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A TL 15 world is probably not the best place to sell my 35k worth of TL 12/13 excess gear I imagine.

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Correct – Max recommends keeping all excess gear and selling it on the next shithole planet you visit – shouldn’t be long before you get to one.

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Update on Will’s financial situation (not that anybody except possibly Nick gives a rat’s ass):

After ship share distribution Will is rolling in Cr236,490. He keys over cr100k to New You (that tale coming); Cr51,060 to Vacuous Vance’s Vacc Suit Emporium for his spiffy KPITA suit; Cr1k to Blackwater Men’s Wear [Where the security of your family jewels is our business] for a TL14 casual suit (including sweater vest) made of Taeva’s miracle gel-cloth; and a final Cr2.5k to Mark’s Real Men Workers’ Warehouse for a snazzy new (and clean) orange coverall made of gel-cloth. He also washes his well-worn diplo vest and reflec, which was, as Grim constantly pointed out, getting a bit odiferous. He’s now feeling quite the ladies’ man!

All this leaves him with Cr81,930. He wants to keep Cr1,930 for mad money and so has Cr80k to kick back into the Princess for additional ship shares or to loan to the trading fund. He relies on Max’s financial advice on this matter.

052-1107
 

The New You facility on Glisten was indeed impressive. Will paused for a moment before entering the gleaming building located in the poshest part of Glisten City. Well, he thought, the bastards could certainly afford such a place with the prices they charge. Prices that he had heard were about to increase ten-fold. He thanked his lucky stars for that Rain-check coupon Grim had given him from the Collace branch.

He pranced up the steps to the glasteel doors and entered the metal and stone lobby. “Wow, this looks like real marble,” he thought, pausing briefly to drop to his hands and knees and press his magnifier to his eye to check that hypothesis. “This must have cost a fortune.”
His investigation of the floor was interrupted by a prim but attractive receptionist who peered over her expensive wooden desk to address him.

“Excuse me sir. May I help you?”

“Oh, yes, pardon me,” Will mumbled as he stood. The receptionist’s obvious disdain made him want to wipe the dust from the knees of his new casual gel/cloth suit. Instead he straightened the pocket protector in his sweater vest, realigning the errant green pen that never seemed to stay put. “Maybe Grim can adjust the clip on this damn thing,” he thought. “Or I could have Jie break it right off.”

The receptionist was still standing and still expecting an answer to her query.

“Ah, right,” he said firmly. “I am William Shaunnessy. I have an appointment with Dr Bright at 14h00.”
“Thank you Sir. One moment.” The receptionist waved her perfectly manicured fingers over a keyboard. “Yes Mr Shaunnessy, they’re expecting you. Please take elevator 2 to the third floor where you’ll be directed to Finance. They’ll send you on to decontam from there. Welcome to New You, where we can help even the most disabled to a new life!”

Will did as he was told, emerging into a lavish wood-panelled lobby on the 3rd floor. A holographic FINANCE floated above the receptionist’s desk, behind which sat an equally prim, but even more attractive, young woman. To the right, partially concealed by a potted plant, stood a business-suited man. Will’s new knowledge of these things ID’d the man as a guard. “What on earth do they need a guard for,” he wondered.

Will approached the desk and introduced himself.

“Welcome Mr Shaunnessy. I see that you are scheduled for cybernetic physical enhancement, specifically our Flying Fingers dexterity upgrade.” She smiled somewhat condescendingly Will thought. “You’ll be dancing the light fantastic in no time I’m sure,” she added. “Please have a seat and Ms Goldstein will be with you shortly to discuss financing options.”
Will sat in one of the over-stuffed armchairs and eyed the real paper magazines on the table. Not seeing either Imperial Planetology or the New Glisten Journal of Medicine, he picked up an issue of Sophonts and noted it was dated 114-1103. The cover bore a bikini-clad vargr woman modelling what the headline said was the latest weightloss craze. Another headline caught his attention: “Cybernetic Catastrophes: Meet 8 Women with Enhancement Horror Stories, and the Scars to Prove It!” He dropped the unopened magazine back on the table.

“Mr Shaunnessy, I’m Rachel Goldstein,” said a husky voice in his ear. Turning, he beheld a stunning brunette, probably about 30 years of age. “Please come with me,” she purred and led him to an office that smelled of expensive perfume and leather.
“Now, I’m sure you understand that we must discuss payment prior to proceeding with your enhancement. I believe Dr Bright informed you of our various payment options. We have something suitable for all economic situations. At New You we believe everyone can be made better—and should be.”

“Well, I actually have cash,” Will mumbled as his eyes locked on her tantalizing charms. “Enhancements indeed!” he thought.
“Oh, why pay so much now,” Rachel murmured. “Surely you have other needs and wants that could be satisfied—especially with your new Flying Fingers? Our finance options allow payment over up to 32 Imperial standard years, at very reasonable interest rates. Collateral is minimal. I see here that you are the owner of a starship.”

“Tiny minority owner,” Will corrected. “I just want to pay ca…”

“Oh, it must be so exciting to travel the ‘verse,” Rachel enthused. “Surely your shipmates would appreciate some new equipment. I see here that you’re the ship’s surgeon. Medical emergencies in space must be so exciting—and dangerous. Our Medtech subsidiary has some wondrous new advances in auto-doc technology that would surely benefit any starship crew. Why think only of yourself at times like this. There’s so much you can do for your friends.”

“Look,” said William, a little harder than he intended. “I have analysed your payment options, and, I might add, had our ship’s excellent financial expert look them over. Frankly, they’re highway robbery.” No longer charmed by Rachel’s obvious talents, Will prepared to launch into the indignant negotiator speech Max had prepared for him.

“Well, no need to get angry Mr Shaunnessy,” said Rachel, no trace of huskiness left in her squeaky voice. “Please key over 100,000 credits and verify with a retinal scan and DNA sample.” She thrust a datapad at him and brusquely hustled him back to the elevator.

“I obviously won’t bother to ask if you are interested in our extended warranty package,” she huffed as the elevator doors closed.

From there, things went better for Will. On the 4th floor he went through decontamination. Oddly the receptionist instructed the orderly that “the full Brazilian was required for this one”. Bald and shivering, he was wheeled up to the 6th floor (the floating hologram said “Enhancement Surgery”) where he was efficiently prepped for surgery by less attractive but talented nurses, including two vargr orderlies who brooked no delay when he giggled as their pointy claws tickled his hairless skin.

Dr Bright paid him a last visit before the anaesthetic was administered, assuring him that everything looked perfect.
Strapped to a gurney (“Strapped! What the hell!”), he heard Dr Bright say “Penile Enhancement Wing” just as he drifted off.

He dreamed of Rachel…

And woke to the grizzled whiskers of the vargr orderly mere millimetres from his eyes.

“Wakey, wakey Mr Shaunnessy,” growled the gleaming white fangs. “You’re in Recovery and your operation was a complete success. Just rest and Dr Bright will be in to see you shortly. Try not to pee.”

Will groped for his crotch, terrified (but strangely fascinated) by what he might find. He quickly realized that his hands were densely bandaged and nothing felt different elsewhere. Hearing a whoop of joy, he turned his head. Lying in the next bed was Max, obviously just recovering from his own surgery.

“Come ‘ave a look at this beauty!” Max shouted, lifting his sheets.

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LOL!

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Awww man!!! I love this Jay!!You are truly the professor.

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youngerpliny

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