NationStates Jolt Archive

Provost John Vladeiroch stared out at the black void of space through his private quarters' pressurized window. He observed the clusters of asteroids that dotted the area, and marveled the strange beauty of the belt. His base was stationed on Rimulak-Prime-006, a large asteroid that saw much of the mining operation he ran here. It was also the center of his secret drug trafficking network. He found the drugs he was trafficking made it easier to control the populace he effectively ruled over. They also increased the strength and energy of the miners themselves, bringing in larger quantities of ore than otherwise.

But now the corporation that operated and regulated the mining colonies throughout the solar system was coming to inspect his business. The government that oversaw the corporation was extremely antidrug, and he had to be careful about his shady, illegal activities whenever inspectors arrived. One slipup could cost him everything he controlled here, even his personal freedom.

"William," the Provost said to his head of security who stood across the room behind him. "When the inspectors arrive, make sure that the pharmacists lay low. We can't afford our prescriptions to the citizens of Rimulak to be discovered. Code 6 is to be executed, as usual whenever we have... visitors."

"Understood, sir," William replied. "Code 6 will be put into effect before the inspectors arrive. I promise they won't find so much as a trace of your prescriptions."

"Thank you. You are dismissed."

At about the same time, the Lute Class freighter Kimikawa-Maru was closing in on the asteroid. Her hull was packed full of fresh foods, a bit of mining equipment, and some luxuries that would be hard to get on the small mining asteroids like computers, games, and fine elven wines. On the bridge of the Maru, a middle-aged man by the name of Peter Jameson sat in the captain's chair. Over his left eye was a black eyepatch, a trophy from the incident that got him kicked out of the Space Force. Back then, he'd been a lieutenant on board the battleship Sune. After a long tour in space, the ship and her fleet arrived in a foreign port for a much needed resupply. A night of heavy drinking and violent bar brawl later, and Jameson was one eye lighter than he had been the night before. At his feet were three dead locals.

Now, Jameson made his living salvaging wrecks, running cargo to various ports in the belt, and of course, smuggling drugs. Like he had the month before, Jameson typed a few commands into a console on his arm rest. With a slight wirring noise, a small transparent screen lowered down in front of him. "Hey Mike, get the rock on the line."

The long haired man turned around in his chair as he hit a few buttons on his keyboard. "Got 'em. Try not to piss off the man on the other end this time."

"Fuck you, man. How was I supposed to know he wouldn't like that joke. Thin skinned little pussy." Jameson took a drink from a bottle floating to the right of his head and typed a few more things into his console.

A little hourglass on the screen rotated, indicating activity. A few seconds later, the word "connected" flashed on the screen a few times.

"Rimulak-Prime, this is the Kimikawa-Maru, we're full of food, wine, and electronics and we'd like to dock."

A bunch of regulations and legal crap scrolled down the screen. One thing that stood out was the fact that Code 6 was in effect again. "Fucking wonderful..." was the first thing to pass Jameson's lips. Once again, Jameson typed a few things into his console, and the screen retracted back into the ceiling. "Ricky, we're cleared to dock. Take us in. They're under Code Six again, so be careful."

The small ship slowly came in and docked.

Security was posted everywhere, as was required by Code 6 regulations. They were there to make sure no one was to take one of the Provost's prescriptions in public, or even at all. The Provost couldn't afford his citizens to display drugged behavior when the inspectors from Earth were expected to arrive any moment. Every citizen, as Code 6 demanded, was to be completely sober when the inspectors arrived. All illegal activity was put on hold, or heavily disguised as legal activity. Even the local whore houses had been closed also required by Code 6.

Ricky and Jameson soon met with the local pharmacist as their first stop of the evening.

"Yes, I have the goods, but because of Code 6, I can only give you so many boxes. They're also labeled as iron for the same reason. Just give me the billion credits, so we can finish this quickly. Provost Vladeiroch expects the inspectors to arrive within the next hour."

it is really closed, huh?

"This will never be enough to get the Miyamoto family off my back. I need the full shipment now, or there may not ever be another trip. C'mon man, just pack the rest into copper crates or something. Once we've got it, we can leave, and you'll be scott free. Deal?"

Jameson crossed his arms and tapped his foot while he waited for the response. Meanwhile, Ricky checked to make sure that the goods were the right ones.

"No can do," the pharmacist said. "Code 6 regulations strictly state that the prescriptions must be minimal in the case you're boarded by inspectors." He pulled at his collar nervously. "Besides, the Provost would have my hide—literally—if I screwed up."

"Look, I need the stuff. How about I give you two hundred gold so that you can turn away while my boys load up the full shipment?"

Jameson reached into a pouch and retrieved a smaller pouch bulging with the shapes of coins. He shook the bag, and the jingle of gold on gold action indicated that the contents were indeed the intended bribe.

"Besides, it's not like we can be stopped. We're packing military grade heat."

The pharmacist's eyes shifted, thinking over the bribe silently then snatched the pouch from Jameson.

"Third level," he stated, "camouflaged valt. The keybar is hidden under an intercom. Slide it open and tap in 256149 and then hit enter." While his clients rushed off to follow his directions, he opened the pouch and began counting the coins.

"Thanks. You saved my ass."

Jameson and Ricky turned and made their way up to the third level, making sure to not be seen. It wasn't long before they found the keybar. Tapping in the code, they stepped back as the door opened.

"This is the stuff alright. Call the crew and tell them to start loading the shit. Do the original shipment first."

Ricky complied, and so did the crew. Inside the hidden room was enough contraband to fill the ship's hold, and more than enough to get Jameson, his crew, and probably the crew of the rock executed on the spot if caught by NYNJ authorities. Unlike the original shipment, this one was not marked as iron.

Provost John Vladeiroch sat at his desk, tapping his ID card against its flat oak surface. Sweat beaded his brow as he watched the occasional report from his highranking security officers. So far, twenty-two miners had been caught and apprehended using their prescriptions in public, breeching Code 6. Code 6 dictated that prescriptions were not to be used during the time of its effect, lest they betray the delicate secret he had been keeping from his authorities for so long.

"Any sign of them, Jackson?" John asked in a shaky voice. He was always nervous whenever the inspectors came by.

"Negative," Jackson replied over the vidscreen situated in front of the Provost. "Our scanners have not picked up any sign of NYNJ ships in the area. They must be patrolling outside the outer limits, checking each and every freighter they come across."

"Damnit... they rarely take this long. They must suspect something...."

Meanwhile, the captain and crew of the Kimikawa-Maru went about loading their ship, unaware that anything was up. Just in case anyone tried to scan the ship, they carefuly surrounded the crates with boxes of lead ore, making sure everything would register as the metals that the ship was officially carrying. A few hours after opening the vault, the ship was loaded, and the crew was ready to depart.

"Rimulak-Prime, this is the Kimikawa-Maru, we're ready to depart."

"You are clear for departure, Kimikawa-Maru. The dockin clamps and hoses have been removed. Good luck, and be careful. Code six is still in effect."

"Will do. See you in a month."

Slowly and gently, the ship backed out of the docking bay, continuing in reverse until it was out and in the open. As she turned to set her course to Axis, her small shield generator came online, and her eight engines glowed a fierce blue as foreward thrust was applied.

"It should be clear sailing from here. A few more runs like this and we'll be free to do whatever we wish."

"Did you have to give such a large bribe, captain?"

"You have to spend money to make money, Ricky."

"I suppose. Lets just be careful. They all seemed rather paranoid for some reason..."

"Sir, our team's picked up a momentary blip on the edge of our scanners," Jackson said to the head of security, William. "It was a ship."

"Are you able to track it?"

"No... it dropped out of range just as soon as it appeared."

"Damn."

OOC: A post is coming tonight, if not tomorrow. Just let me get some rest. First day of school can be a pain.

OOC: Forgive the slow response. Personal issues can always be a bitch.

IC:

The modified 275 meter long Solarwind class transport ship "DTR-450" entered the asteroid belt at half its regular sub light speed, heavily armed it wasn’t the typical Solarwind transport and soon it would be obvious why rather soon. On the side of the freighter was the markings of New York and New Jersey's Drug Enforcement Agency which stretched its fight against illegal substances entering the heart of the Republic to the stars. Questions about this corporations dealing had been raised in the Senate, and often. It had become a public secret where some of the drugs came from and now as elections for the Senate came up a dual inspection team of corporate security and drug enforcement officers were dispatched.

As DTR-450 neared the corporate asteroid base the technician behind the LIDAR screen marked down IFF signature of the Kimikawa-Maru and put it into the ships contact memory for future reference. “Rimulak-Prime 6, this is Drug Enforcement Agency Transport, DTR-450, carrying executive passengers, we are on final approach and will be sending off a shuttle, over.” Barely waiting for confirmation the small Greyhound class assault shuttle debarked from the dorsal docking ring carrying 30 DEA Officers, and 10 regular inspectors from Federated Solar Mining Corporation. Carrying an assortment of gear and light weaponry they had the jurisdiction even on the asteroid to search the loading docks, the storage areas and so on for illegal substances. They would need separate warrants for crew quarters but those could be streamlined through the military, and the SCVN-2815 Wasp was close enough for same day communication for crew quarters searches.

As the Greyhound touched down inside of the docking bay, the side hatches opened up and the DEA Officers piled from out 15 on either side of the transport followed by the companies’ inspectors. “This is a surprise inspection by the Drug Enforcement Agency...”, came the shout from the lead company inspector, “In accordance with war-time provision D-103 Section C, the DEA is exercising its authority to search this facility and its logs as it relates to incoming and outbound traffic, including sensor logs. You are all to provide full co-operation with their inspection of face immediate arrest. Is that understood?” And it had begun, already the DTR-450 had begun to run a background check on the Kimikawa-Maru attempting to search for any background information which might pertain to the investigation.

It was time to clean up the corruption, it was time to put an end to this poor inside joke and it was time to find out how deep the corruption went.

For the most part, the records on the Kimikawa-Maru were clean. She was comissioned by Peter Jameson about four years ago, and had been making runs around the asteroid belt, to Mars, and to Earth ever since. About six months ago, she was held in port at Mathilde for docking violations, but nothing else really stood out. Quite a few of her cargo runs consisted of taking entertainment and other luxury goods to Rimulak, and taking a large load of iron back to Axis.

The crew records showed that almost all of the crewmembers had a criminal record, with offences ranging from armed robbery and petty theft to money laundering and tax evasion. Captain Jameson's record showed a triple murder and court marshal.

The Rimulak Security Force complied with the demands of the investigation team. Citizens were readily ushered out of the path of the investigators, instructed to return to their duties elsewhere or go home. Little trouble arose, with only a few Rimulak miners protesting to be ordered out of the ship port. These offences were quickly handled by security and the offenders placed within the local jails so they could remain from interfering with the inspectors' work.

Meanwhile, a lone pharmacist—the same one that had taken the bribe from Ricky and Jameson—wandered the halls of the third level to make a quick check of just how much of the Provost's prescriptions they took before the investigators would eventually come through here. He was shocked and appalled to find the vault left wide open.

"Those irresponsible..." he cursed underneath his breath and rushed over to the side of the vault. "Like we need this now!" He grumbled as he frantically tapped the vault's code into keybar, and then watched it slide closed with a soft clang. Once that was done, he retrieved the covering for the keybar and nervously slid it back in place when he heard a large group of footsteps coming from down the hall.

They were coming....

"Hey you!" Officer Fitzgerald called down the hallway toward the Scientist as he rushed forward with several other officers, and a company inspector who held outdated blueprints of the station. "Get away from that panel.." It was red handed..the man just wasnt fast enough..apprehension and tension filled the air and with both mistakes werent to far behind. A second DEA Offical stepped up to rest a hand on the pharmacists chest and push him back toward the nearby wall, while the corporate inspector looked down toward the blueprints and toward the direction of the panel.

"This panel isnt supposed to be here..I dont know what's behind this door.." Officer Fitzgerald removed the 9mm handgun from its holster and raised it up to the Pharmacists head. Capital punishment in space was easy to dispense and the paperwork wasnt nearly as bad as back on Earth or even on the Mars territories. The corporate inspector stood the side of the pharmacist and held the blueprints infront of the man, while the other four DEA officers moved out and covered the small position. Officer Fitzgerald radioed their position to the lead DEA Officer on the station, Agent Mertenz who in turn contacted DTR-450..it would be obvious to those monitoring the officals they something was going on, the DEA wasnt exactly known for its subtle movements.

"Now whats behind this panel..if you speak now I'm sure these officers would go easy on you.." Easy though was the penal colony on Pluto's surface. It wasnt even a mining outpost they just dropped off prisoners, shipped them food, shelter and the basic nessecities of life every once a month and that was it. It was hard to escape..no it wasnt just difficult to leave the Alcatraz of the solar system it was next to impossible. However if answers werent forthcoming the pharmacists would never even see off of this deck..

On DTR-450, the gunports opened up, and the manuvering thrusters engaged the modified transport moved to block off the fleeing transport. The crew had a criminal record the length of the ship..there wasnt going to be a chance in hell they were getting off without an inspection happening. Lieutenant Norsa, the commanding officer of DTR-450 was eager to make a name of himself. The DEA transports were crewed by junior level naval officers as part of their training regimine before being assigned to positions in the regular navy. It was unglamerous work hunting down smugglers but every now and then a capture of certain people, of a large enough cargo, of anything note worthy would propel most of the crew through the ranks and on the fasttrack within the navy. This made the DEA transport crews constantly looking to one up each other...and it also made them impulsive and rash in their choices as they looked to score the big catch.

"This is Federal Drug Enforcement vessel DTR-450 to Kimikawa-Maru you are ordered to come to a full stop, shut down your reactor and prepare for an inspection, reply, over." The communication officer looked over toward the direction of Lieutenant Norsa and gave the thumbs up as he waited for a response over the headset.

"Oh snap"

"What is it?" snarled Jameson as he glanced at the man working the coms.

"It's the NYNJ DEA vessel we passed earlier. They're telling us to stop and prepare to be boarded."

"I see. Helm, floor it."

The girl working the ship's old fashioned wheel turned around slightly, an eyebrow raised. "Sir? Are we really going to run from them?"

"Did I stutter, Katie?"

"No sir. Increasing thrust to 120%"

"Excellent. Ricky, signal red alert. Have the crew man their battle stations. Yoshi, I want the chaff launchers loaded, and make sure there are mines mixed in with the foil. Mike, begin Minovsky Particle broadcast and divert power from all unnecessary systems to engines, shields, and weapons. I want the megaparticle guns online ASAP."

A chorus of "Aye aye!" sounded off in the ship's bridge before the men went to carry out their orders. As the red lights began illuminating the ship's interior, crewmen and women scrambled to get their normal suits on and make their way to their battle stations. The engines flared a blinding white as they were pushed to their limits. Carefully disguised bulkheads retracted along the hull, and small turrets entered firing position, training towards the NYNJ ship. At the aft section of the ship, small hatches opened, and tons of silver foil and small mines shot into space, forming a nice, visually obstructing cloud.

Finally, a message was quickly transmitted over the radio before the Minovsky Particle broadcast cut off all radio and low level EM communication.

"Kiss my ass, DTR-450."

The pharmacist trembled as he looked down the barrel of the officer's gun, in fact he was shaking like a a leaf. There was a curious trickling noise coming from the floor, and upon looking down the officers would have found that the man had urinated himself in fright. As if to complicate the matters even more, the pharmacist promptly passed out and fell on the floor after emptying his bladder. No answers would be coming the fainter.

A brave man he was not.

OOC:Bryn you wanted to know about the Solarwind?
http://groups.msn.com/GamingMoments/shoebox.msnw?action=ShowPhoto&PhotoID=57

IC:

"Time to burn some scum, comm officer, inform the ground crew we are chasing after an escaping transport. Looks like it'll be a pretty good day afterall." Lieutenant Norsa watched his LIDAR screen become clouded as the ship disappeared from the screen due to the foil.."Not bad..not bad at all but I'm the best..helm! Adjust course to take us over the foil. I want the plasma cannons to get a targeting solution the moment we reaquire target. Weapons Officer, prepare the missile tubes to fire the 150a's. I want him crippled!"

The Solarwind turned to pursue, her engines kicking to life while manuvering thrusters pushed the ship above the cloud of foil and mines which had not been picked up due to the interferance. It was simple tactics 101 to not fly through a cloud in which your sensors cant penetrate if a hostile is on the otherside. The chin mounted dual plasma guns rotated and turned as the Kimikawa Maru appeared once more..the Minovsky particles which the ship emitted didnt have much effect to cut off their communication being some distance back, and it wouldnt have made much difference if they were up close either.

"Shall we relay a message for them to surrender, sir?" The weapons officer following procedure for the after action report Norsa waved his hand off and the WO took it as a no. The chin turret was the only gun under the WO's direct control, with the other guns left to their respective gun crews who got their orders from the WO. All guns were LIDAR assisted in their targeting so once the Kimikawa Maru came up on screens once more, those guns with a potential shot began to turn toward the offending vessel. The bow mounted missile tubes began their quest for a target lock, as the LIDAR fed them targeting data. Of course it took several seconds for the missiles to light up the targeting panel with green locked on lights. The guns however were a different story, the dual plasma cannon unleashing shot after shot early on adjusting its aim with the movement of the Maru but not waiting for any solid locks.

On the asteriod base, the pharmacist was allowed to drop to the ground as the lead officer called for the other teams to come to his position and provide assistance. This was more or less due to one of the other times having the nessecary democharges capable of blowing through a door and not taking out half the station. Not knowing what was behind the door it was also a prudent solution to wait for further assistance than go charging through the door..over the headset came the message..

This is DTR-450 we are in pursuit of a running transport and shall be gone for several hours. Should you require assistance we have contacted the Light Cruiser Heracles, they'll be in the area for the next hour. Over.

It was a lie to reassure the officers on the station, the Heracles was over five hours away at sublight. The nearest ships were a pair of Frigates and those carried only a handful of troops each. None of them equipped with power armor like the Marines of the larger warships.

"Captain, they've gone around the chaff and fired missiles."

"Target the missiles and take them out. Have the crew fire four more chaff and mine cocktails. Fire a standoff missile with each one. Have the guns ready to fire as soon as they go around the clouds."

"Aye, aye."

The ship shuddered as the shots from the plasma cannons hit the shields.

"Evasive manuvers! We can't take many more shots like that!"

"Taking evasive manuvers! Hold on to your seats!"

The ship shuddered once again as the missiles exploded after taking shots from the ship's two dual 120mm machinegun turrets.

"That was too close. We have to take them out before they get close enough to do damage."

Another hit on the shields shook the Kimikawa-Maru again.

"I suggest we return the favor and send them one of our military surplus torpedos."

"Do it"

On the foreward end of the cargo section of the ship, a large round door opened. A long black missile shot from the hole in a blast of compressed air. A second or two later, the torpedo's engines kicked in, and it's gyros sent it rotating towards the DTR-450. If all went well, the torpedo and her 50MT warhead would have their approach masked by the chaff clouds.

A silent alarm went off when the vault was detonating, alerting the Rimulak main offices. Security screens showed the DEA team at the blasted open vault filled with many of the Provost's valuable prescriptions. Looking at a screen with Officer William to one side was Provost John Vladeiroch.

"Which vault is that?" John demanded in a cold tone. "Why have they blasted it open?"

"Sector seven-two-five level three," Officer William replied in a shaky tone. "Vault two-hundre—"

"SHIT!"

"I know, si—"

"Anything but that vault! Not that vault!" John screeched as he began to lose his cool. "That is almost exclusively a government sector... it will be difficult to throw them off course after this!"

"Shall I enact Plan Delta?"

"Please do, Officer William. Please do...."

Plan Delta was to set up a fall guy within Rimulak's chain of command, one who would not suspect that he was chosen to take the fall until it was too late. All records would show that this scapegoat regulated the particular sector that a vault containing the prescriptions was found in. All blame of illegal narcotics smuggled within Rimulak would hopefully fall on this sacrificial lamb.