NationStates Jolt Archive

A few weeks prior to today, Director Thraak had an evaluation and fact-finding mission put together to check the status of different mining interests in the Sslaa system, as well as see to planetary conditions and terraforming efforts on the remaining uncolonized planets. As it stood, one of his staff was aboard the shuttle making the in-system voyage, and deposited the datachit on Thraak's desk.

Thraak fingered the chit a moment, and slid it into his terminal's port, where the display of info came up swiftly. "And this is all the data you've compiled and sorted, yes? I'd hate a hole in the info to delay me here."

The staff member, one Junior Officer Mrrik, a Hrruban, stood at stiff attention. "Yes sirrah. I've even taken the liberty of sorting the data into areas of priority for you as best as I could."

Thraak seemed to liesurely peruse the information with one eye. "Hmmmm..... yes .... very good." He raised himself up in his seat a bit and shifted his other eye towards the Hrruban. "You've had a long trip. Seems to be a job well done, so you can take seven cycles off before you return to your duties." He picked up a mug of steaming Paroo and sipped it from the fluted lip on the rim of the mug.

Mrrik bowed slightly, hands at his sides. "Thank you, sirrah. If you have any questions please page me on my mobile." A dismissive nod from Thraak sent the Hrruban off on his much-needed vacation.

The Director settled into his chair more comfortably, rolling an ottoman out from under his desk with his clawed feet and into a position where he could stretch out a bit while he read. Hmmmm... those colonists on Sslaa I are entering another period of isolation to improve security. Bothersome, but their traffic logs check out. Nuova Toscana colony seems to be operating with anticipated parameters. Terraforming efforts on Sslaa III are slated to begin in 30 cycles. Sunset's interests on Sslaa IV are operating well enough, as well as some of our fisheries there. Supply runs to the sea-bases there will have to be made more often than before, though. Menelmacari gas-mining efforts are running smoothly on Sslaa VI. Traffic logs and security checks are all green there. Mining requests for radioactive materials on Sslaa VII have been made, and the military want to establish static defense posts in the Sszeera Belt. Hmmmm...i'll worry about that later. Seems the ice planet, Sslaa VIII, has been abandoned by the Treznorian resource miners. Maybe i'll put that bit of real estate on the market. For the Imperial treasury, of course. Thraak smirked the equivalent of a reptilian smirk, being as they have no lips, just some tough leathery plates around the mouth.

He put together all the data relevant to their separate departments and sent them on their way in the form of copied and encrypted files. Thraak kept the original files for himself, to peruse later and decide what course of action to take.

(ooc: Just so people know i'm STILL ALLLLIIIIIVE!)

Berthed at the Vubz station, the Merchant Navy's ships, mainly 3 medium freighters, 1 heavy freighter and a wing of escort cruisers, unloaded imports from the Dread Dominion. These consisted mainly of oils, wine and textiles of which were sought after by artisans and members of the Imperial Office. Some of the oils and wine were to be unloaded at Sslaa IV for one of the fisheries there, and dried foodstuffs would be loaded up for export and shipped back to Titan. That was the plan, anyway, as far as Captain Misha knew.

The crew of any ship in the Merchant Navy normally comprised of a ragtag assortment of species. Any of the immigrant races could be found there, as well as freebooters, expatriates, and people looking to learn a trade. It wouldn't be surprising to see humans working side by side with pan-dimensional energy beings, one of the elven races or the Alpha Minis which seem to be spreading their reach throughout the known systems (very quietly, of course). Misha, a Hrruban by birth, adjusted her slightly worn Captain's hat and looked at the status display on the bridge. "Alright, everything's unloaded. We're a bit ahead of schedule and i'd like to keep it that way. Release dock clamps as soon as we get the green and let's make our next stop." Affirmatives from the command staff allowed her to take her seat in her 'Cap'n Chair' while she reviewed reports on their next point.

It would take a few days at Sslaa IV to unload their remaining cargo, load up their dropships with the foodstuffs from the fisheries, and have that unloaded. There wasn't an orbital station in service there yet, although that had been apparently put on the table by System Control, so they had to load up the old fashioned way. Not the most efficient way to go about it, but it did allow the crew a little R&R time.

The ships got the 'green', and they disembarked through the kilometers-wide tunnels used to go in and out of the station. Weapon placements passively tracked their progress all about the converted moon until they were at the halfway point between planetary bodies. The helmsman pointed out "Approaching Sslaa IV. Adjusting for geostationary orbit and alerting dropship crews to stand by."

Misha stood up and adjusted the collar on her vest. "Good. I'll be going down with the first wave of ships. Need to have a word with the harbormaster." A call of 'Roger' followe dher as she stepped off the bridge to the hangars. The ships attained orbit, dropships left their berths and entered Sslaa IV's atmosphere. It was a bit of a bumpy entry due to high stratospheric winds, but nothing to cause anyone to lose their lunch. "Approaching Platform 6 in 5, 4, 3, 2, 1!" The whine of turbo-thrust engines performing VTOL could be faintly heard in the dropship as the captain plugged he ears. They really need an orbital here.

The Platforms were in actuality 3 kilometer long gravitic rafts. Completely flat on top save for a few spires jutting upwards. Each one was also 50 meters high and 2 kilometers wide. Scores of small maglev and gravitic fishing vessels dotted the lower areas of the platform, as well as patrol and rescue crafts on stabdby. As Misha left the dropship, crews of harborworkers were already at the job of unloading the imported cargo from the ships, while others were securing the ones that were still landing. Light but steady winds brought the smell of salty air and mist from the ocean that comprised nearly 98% of the planet into her nostrils. She breathed in deeply, and exhaled with a sigh. "That is a nice smell."

The shape of the Harbormaster, a 2 meter tall Sakkran, emerged from a lift. "Good cycle to you, Captain." His scales were a deep, rich green with some blue flecks around his extremities. He was clothed in a latex vest and waistwrap of yellow. There were no adornments, fetishes or other bits of flair on him, except for a steel chain going from his wrap to a pocket in his vest. "Everything seems to be running on time, so if you have a moment, we can adjourn to the lower deck for a drink, yes?"

Misha nodded assent, as the spray from the ocean was started to annoy her eyes and the constant wind started making her ears ring a bit. "How do you handle this environment? I see no goggles or earcups on you. Must be tough."

The Harbormaster, Ghriik, shrugged his shoulders. "Nictitating membrane under the eyelid takes care of the salt spray, and the ears have a natural protective covering. Main problem for us is the salt tends to dry up our scales, which is why we're always having oils imported. I'm sure it keeps the olive-growers back in the Dread Dominion in the green, so to speak." He chuffed a little at his own bit of punnery as they approached the Harbormaster's quarters.

If it wasn't for the fact that there were no sharp angles in the room, one could almost say it was decorated ala Scolopendran style. That is, spartan and utilitarian in its taste. No sculptures, artworks or any other pieces of furniture that served purely for decoration and aesthetic. The table seemed to be fused with the wall, with a porthole view of the ocean. A small cistern of Kansee tea was on it, and a pair of fluted mugs were poured. Everything that wasn't attached to the walls, floor or ceiling was a dull primer black in color, contrasting well enough with the burnt-sienna color of the rest of the room. "So I heard you wanted to see me while the shoremen loaded up your cargo, eh? What's up?"

Misha took off her hat and sipped the tea, breathing in as she did. "It'll take a bit of time to get everything unloaded, loaded and ready to go, yes? I'm thinking some of my crew could take a bit of R&R here while that happens. The question being, is there a vessel that could be made available for us to use for that purpose?"

The Harbormaster leaned back a bit and allowed some tea to drizzle into his mouth from the fluted mug. "Hrrrr.....hmmmm.... so you want to take the kids on a fishing trip, yes? Hraaa haa!" He leaned forward again, placing his mug on the table. "Sure, I could arrange that. But with the proviso that you have an escort. You might be good at plying the Void, but down here is a different story, and you'll need some swift hands and nimble legs in case things get out of hand, which can happen like that." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "No-fault paperwork would need to be filled out and so on and so on and bureaucratic gobbledy-gook."

Misha waved her hand dismissively, partly to get the steam from the tea out of her nose. "Of course of course. I'm thinking this would be a good way from my crew to let off some steam. They'll sign the papers and such."

The Harbormaster leaned back again. "Good, good. It'll give some of my shoremen something to do as well. Should be fun." He raised his mug up in front of him, as Misha did the same, and the mugs clinked together. "Cheer."