Those Who Stare In The Black, Game 21: Hammer
Game date: 23 Feb 2014
Present: Tabby, Chris, Sara, Paul, and Maer
Tuesday, 28 Nov 2519
Spaceport, Harvest
Red Sun (Zhu Que) System
18 Hours Earlier…
We're set to depart for Osiris in 18 hours.
We've our current cargo loaded up and ready for transport but Stone has no luck finding further work or passengers to bring us to 100% full. Still, we have cargo and a good amount of it. We're not flying broke.
Oksana takes requests for our last dinner dirtside for the next little while. The crew chimes in and the menu is chosen: tacos with all the fixings.
Xiu meanwhile works on her mechanical otter project. She's got the base skeleton done. She just needs to cover it with something that looks like fur.
Verity is still checking and rechecking the ship's systems and the bridge for Fed treachery. She's also listening to the comms chatter for news and such. Again, keeping a sharp lookout for Fed treachery.
Dinner is served and we're settled for the night when a wave comes in.
It's a report on protests on [name garbled]. The Alliance assisted in bringing down tensions and mediated both sides of the issue.
Of course, Verity has a good idea HOW the Feds brought down tensions and mediated both sides of the issue. We're all thinking it, actually, when she tells the crew of the wave.
Oksana: They assisted in "bringing down". Did they do it with diplomats, happy gas, or grenades?
Verity: They didn't say but … (bitter laugh) … what do you think?
Oksana: Possibly a combination of all three.
Verity: Probably.
Xiu: Let's get a stack pool together and see what wins.
Verity: We're taking bets? I'd put some money on it.
Oksana: You're not making pool based on other people's misery, are you?
Xiu: No, just their incompetence.
Oksana: Sucker bet. Not taking it. All bets are off.
Oksana does her fact checking on the Cortex and finds out a little more.
The protests were on Albion. Albion's experiencing "civil unrest". It's got trouble with its unions and some of its trade classes over pay issues and contract negotiations. If one had to draw an analogy, consider it very like major sports players battling their contract owners. Apparently the arguments got heated enough and the big guns were called in to quell them. She shares the information she's gleaned before turning in for bed.
Tomorrow is another day and it's best we're rested enough to face it.
Tuesday, 28 November, 2519
Spaceport, Harvest
Morning
Morning shift arrives and the crew wakes to get underway.
The mysterious "De Nile Xport" box was taken off our ship. We're all puzzling over the odd name at breakfast. It takes a while but we finally figure out it might have been code.
Xport = Transport, a common enough abbreviation used in the cargo trade.
De Nile = Denial or maybe it's a river in Old Earth Egypt.
So … the box translated might mean: River Transport
Wait …. River.
River? As in River Tam? That River?
Thinking back on it, Scrooge did say in a meeting on New Melbourne that he'd had a hand in getting River away from the Academy. He didn't give details. We didn't ask. But he did say he helped.
More significant is the ownership of that box. It wasn't in Scrooge's cargo. Marley confirmed it. It wasn't part of his shipment. It was part of the Feds, now off loaded onto a Tohoku class ship and sailing God knows where.
Even more significant is the fact that box was a cryogenic box … so … could someone have been inside it? If so, who? Why? Or … perhaps it was empty but destined to smuggle someone in the future. If so, who and when? Where is it now?
There is no telling. It could be anywhere. It's out of our hands, either way. At least we know that Marley—and through him—Scrooge knows of its existence. What he does with that information is not ours to know.
There being nothing productive in speculating what we could have done if we'd put the pieces together sooner, we roll up our sleeves and prep for take off. Verity, Xiu, and Stone get busy with the last minute ship details. Oksana makes one last run for supplies.
Two hours before lift-off we get a hail from Traffic Control. Our time slot is green. Are we on schedule? Stone verifies that we are and submits our flight plan. Our lift-off is smooth as silk. Verity plots a killer course and the numbers come back: it's an 11 day flight.
Goodbye Harvest, Hello Osiris. ETA 09 Dec 2519.
Day 9:
Verity sees something on the scanners but can't really make out a clear fix on it. It's ahead of us. Stone double checks but can't get better results. Xiu fiddles with it and manages to resolve the fuzzy image into several blobs.
They're pretty far out. A day away, at least.
Watching the blobs, we try to determine if they're moving away, toward, or in a different direction relative to our position. Verity checks and does the math—they're on the same trajectory as we are but at a slightly slower pace. At the speed we're going, we'll catch up with them when we arrive at Osiris.
Stone: Keep an eye on this, get what info you can. If it's Reavers, avoid them and send a wave out to warn others.
Stone also orders Verity to increase our speed to get closer for better res on our scanners.
We manage to get a visual, eventually. What we see makes our collective jaws hit the deck.
- 2 Tohoku class cruisers
- 2 patrol class boats
- 4 Longbow class boats
- 50 smaller ships and tenders alongside
We've barely time to register the sight when all our sensors go black.
Gorrammit, they're jamming us.
Of course, if they're aware of us enough to jam us, we can expect them to meet us and board us. Nevertheless, Stone quickly sends a warning to people he knows of what's happening out here and asks for confirmation of receipt. There is no response to our waves. We can't get any EM traffic at all.
We're flying blind.
4 hours later:
We're close enough to visually ID the ships themselves, and take a headcount of the fleet in front of us.
There are 4 Tohoku class ships. Four. A full two/thirds of the ships in the fleet are Longbows, not just 2 as we'd originally thought. The remaining one/third are made up of the patrol boats.
Ai yah, we're screwed.
Stone: Are these real ships? Or fake?
We're jammed but they haven't managed to hack into our systems and erase what we managed to glean pre-jam. Verity analyzes the numbers and confirms it: they're for-hell real.
Determined to find a way to get the word out, we rig up a crybaby and put it on a timer. Once it's outside the sphere of jammer effect, it will start screaming. Hopefully someone will hear the message before the Feds find it and kill it.
Xiu builds it. Verity programs it. Stone kicks it out the airlock. It's the best we can do.
Day 10:
We can see most of the ships in the fleet now. We're not picking up any comm chatter. Of course. The jam is still on. Stone has us send a tight beam laser signal asking the fleet what's going on. If they're jamming us, they'll intercept it. If they're feeling generous, maybe they'll answer.
No response.
Verity: Fine. If they don't want to deal with us, we won't deal with them.
Day 11, Thursday, 09 Dec 2519:
We've visual of the entire fleet now, being practically on top of it. It's huge. Dear God it's huge. Four hours out of Osiris the formation surrounds the planet like a cloud of locusts, starts to move around it in slow motion. Several ships peel away from the mass and take up positions in orbit while the rest of the fleet moves beyond into space.
- 2 Tohokus take up position over the poles, north and south
- 5 Frigates
- 5 Longbows
- 10 Patrol boats
The last three take up positions elsewhere in orbit around the planet. The rest of the fleet continues on its trajectory, flying farther away from Osiris as we watch. Where are they going? We don't know. Of more immediate concern is getting on the ground on Osiris. We have cargo to deliver. Will they let us land? A couple of fighters peel off to intercept us.
Looks like we're about to find out.
We can't run and hide. The only place in range is Albion, ironically enough, and it's 5 days away. There are a couple of privately held space stations we could get to, about 2 days way, but really, do we want to drag the Feds on their heads?
Stone decides to risk it. He tells Verity to plot a course away from Osiris.
We get hailed by the Feds to land on Osiris. The fighters back up that injunction, harrying us until we pick up speed for Osiris as ordered.
There's nothing for it but to see it through and hope fate is kind to us. We land, as ordered. Beautifully. Verity is nothing if not the best damned pilot in the Verse.
Saturday, 09 Dec 2519
Spaceport, Osiris
White Sun (Bai Hu) system
Once we're on the ground, we get a wave from the Harbormaster. He confirms our cargo for loading and off loading. They will have the personnel necessary to get it done tomorrow. General ground maintenance will still occur on schedule and service of our ship will not be affected.
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Stone: And this is due to the … unusual traffic in the area, right?
Harbormaster: Yes.
Oksana: (undertone) Instead of one Sword of Damocles, you have two. And assorted little friends.
Xiu: That's not the Sword of Damocles. That's the Cutlery Drawer of Damocles.
Xiu passes the time by working on her otter. She and Stone debate skin vs. shell for a hide. Xiu eyes Stone's neat beard speculatively. Hmmm, how attached is the Captain to his beard? Hmmm….
Stone dissuades her. He keeps the beard.
Over the next 24 hours ...
All comms suddenly shut down except official traffic. The government, military, Port Authority, Police, and other first responders are the only organizations with comms traffic.
Nevertheless, Stone tries to tight beam the other ships parked beside us. Tight beams, he reasons, cannot be picked up by the Feds and blocked. Unfortunately, not all ships have the ability to pick up tight beam so his results come back … with nothing.
Our sensors are giving off random ghosts, too. The readings are getting spoofed by the government. Stone eyeballs the physical ships in line of sight of our bridge, checking their own comms arrays—if any are pointed in our direction they should be able to pick up something …
But nope. We don't get a single pingback in response.
While Stone is puzzling this out, Oksana packs a med bag and finds a nearby clinic. She takes Xiu. Yay! Field trip! Oksana packs meds and some portables but she also packs her gun and wears her vest. Just in case.
Verity: You're actually going to walk out there?
Oksana: I may be humanitarian and I may be optimistic, but I am not stupid.
Verity: (nodding at the sky) You sure about this?
Xiu: Where's the nearest clinic?
Oksana: Three miles out.
It's nicely placed between the working class docks and the working class slums that server the docks.
Stone: Take the mule.
Xiu looks at the mule critically, eyeballing the space inside it.
Xiu: Can we fit an engineer's cart on the mule?
Stone: There is already engineering equipment on the mule.
Xiu: I'm not going to fix the mule, but fix the clinic.
Verity: You're going to fix the clinic?
Oksana: I will offer my services as a doctor. She will offer her services as a fix-it.
Xiu: All right. I'll just carry my regular mechanic's kit and my triage-in-training kit.
Oksana: There are people who might need our help. And they might be able to tell us what's going on.
Stone: That would be nice.
Even though Osiris is technically the Core, it's far enough out that there is a definite underclass that needs services that are sometimes found wanting. Stone checks the channels on our personal comms. The range is short and the reception is spotty … but with a booster, we might be able to make them work. He makes sure that Oksana and Xiu do not leave the ship without comms and boosters.
Just in case.
On their way to the clinic, Oksana and Xiu speculate on the ships overhead.
Oksana: Why did they reallocate the fleet of ships here? How many other worlds are being treated like this? Which other worlds?
Xiu: Probably the ones that have things the need to be well guarded but not well publicized.
Oksana: But what does Osiris have?
Xiu: That depends. Where did they move the Academy to? Where did they move everything that was like the Academy to? Certain things are going to have to stay near the Core because they need the technology and the personnel.
Oksana: There is the Medical Academy on Osiris.
Xiu: If you were going to hide medical experiments, you might try camouflaging them in plain sight.
That just begs the question: with so many trained professionals involved, how long would something like the Academy stay a secret?
Xiu: That would probably be why it wasn't their first choice, but depending on what they're trying to do, it might be an option further down the list?
Oksana: If Osiris was not first choice, what was First Choice?
Xiu: Wherever the hell they shoved the Academy that wasn't on Osiris.
Upon arriving at the clinic, the staff tells her it's quiet and business-as-usual. No medical emergencies. There isn't much needed in the way of repairs, either. Oksana offers them what information she's gleaned in her travels for their own use. Osiris is still a Coreside world and any data chips she's got is compatible with what the clinic has on hand. They politely accept what she's offering and reciprocate.
She gets the latest medical journals and the news that she was unable to access while out on the Rim. However, not much has been published recently. Publication has slowed down and though questions already have been raised as to the reasons for the reduction, little explanation has been announced as to the cause. A few publications have admitted that additional review processes have been put in place and the implication is they are creating delays in publication.
Oksana: Review processes? For accuracy or for …?
Clinic doctor: No other details were given.
Oksana: By whom?
Clinic doctor: (shakes head) No other details.
Oksana: It's good to know that the Alliance is looking out for us. We don't want the dissemination of inaccurate information when there are lives on the line.
Clinic doctor: Very true.
Oksana: I don't know what I have in exchange that you can use, but you are welcome to what I have in skills or data.
Clinic doctor: Well, if you could help us with the flu and get the patients through, I hope you go on and have a wonderful day.
There is a case of the flu hitting the clinic and Oksana gets right to it. In the privacy of her own thoughts, however, she's wondering over the flu. Osiris is a Core world with access to Core quality medicines. Anti-viral drugs are available here. Even accounting for the fact that flu strains tend to mutate and dodge the full effects of the drugs, why do they need an itinerant doctor from the Rim to help them? If she were to indulge in paranoid conspiracy theory, perhaps the patients here are illegal test subjects, turned into incubators for something. Or maybe they're just short handed and need someone to administer the flu meds.
Still … What's really going on?
Oksana takes extra care with the flu patients, observing all the protocols to avoid contracting whatever it is they have. She also tells Xiu to stay out of the flu ward the clinic has set up, to protect the young woman from contracting the disease as well.
Xiu: Do you want me to accidentally grab a sample of—?
Oksana: (firmly) No, you will not.
Oksana administers the anti-viral drugs until she's treated the entire ward. As she does, she thinks up and discards any number of explanations for what she's seen at the clinic. Could the flu and the fleet overhead be connected? Are they there to contain an outbreak? How would they know beforehand so as to task the fleet to contain it? Unless … they know of the bug being incubated and don't want it to get off the planet. Then again, correlation does not prove causation. And perhaps the clinic really doesn't need her help but they're just giving her busy work.
Such is the tenor of her thoughts as she works. She interviews the patients as she works, making small talk as she checks their vitals and administers the drugs, trying to gather information on the big picture.
Patient: Please give me some decent anti-viral drugs. I have school tomorrow.
Oksana: When did you start feeling sick?
Patient: Yesterday.
The patients behave like flu patients, presenting no unusual symptoms. Nothing out of the ordinary develops. No clues to something sinister jump out at her. Of course, if you're going to start a pandemic, isn't that exactly how you'd engineer it?
Oksana keeps her thoughts to herself. She gets through the flu patients, cleans up thoroughly, and gathers Xiu when it's time to leave. Once out of sight of the clinic, Oksana runs a disinfectant wipe over herself again—her hair, mostly, and the portions of her clothing that wasn't covered by the disposable clinic smocks. Xiu eyes this activity with interest and when Oksana does her hair, the engineer fluffs her short crop in comparison to Oksana's shoulder-length.
Xiu: There's something to be said for short and manageable.
Oksana: When you get back to the ship, you will take a thorough shower and launder everything you're wearing. Hot. I'll do the same.
Xiu: (dubiously) Okay …
And that's what they do. Oksana sees to it that Xiu follows her orders and when she herself is done cleaning up, she goes to find Stone to tell him of what she's seen. Perhaps he can use it in his database. For certain, she's adding it to hers. She finds him in the hold.
While the women were gone, Stone spent the time checking and rechecking the stamps and seals on our cargo. Even though he's already gone over them once already, he wants to be sure everything's in order. Everything looks fine. Nothing unusual there. Oksana fills him in on her visit to the clinic.
Oksana: Have you had any luck reaching your contacts? (off his look) No? Not even radio them?
Stone: Nothing off planet. Nothing on planet.
Oksana: Are they gone? Are they hiding? Or you just can't get through?
Whoa. Paranoid much? Well, in her defense, Oksana is Russian. Paranoia is practically genetic with them. It doesn't faze Stone.
Stone: Can't get through. There doesn't seem to be any civilian traffic.
Oksana: (Sighs, frowns) I don't like this.
Stone: I don't either. I don't like that somehow with all the ships around us they're all randomly pointing their receivers in a different direction.
Oksana: Are they broadcasting?
Stone: I can't tell if they are or aren't, but they don't seem to be pointing their laser broadcasters at any of the other ships … (rethinks) … Are they?
Not without going out on the tarmac and knocking on their doors and asking, there's no way to tell. And that's just with the ships on the ground at the spaceport. Who knows what the ships in orbit are doing? With the comms down, the only way to know for sure is to fly among them.
Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen.
Sunday, 10 Dec 2519
The crew settles into their dirtside routine, maintaining their ship and making sure they're on schedule for cargo and take-off. And trying to ignore the radio silence and the presence of the Alliance fleet overhead. There is very little else they can do.
Around lunchtime, we get a wave. A wave! Are the comms back up? It's a direct communication from the Harbormaster. He tells us our shipment will be offloaded and our ongoing contracted cargo will be loaded in its place at the same time. They'll start around 1500 hours that afternoon.
Stone: Do you need us to dock at a different berth for ease of loading?
Harbormaster: No. All air traffic right now is being limited.
Stone: Hm. Okay. And why exactly is it being limited?
Harbormaster: There are some discussions going on with the local government and the Alliance ships.
Stone: It's not elections or anything, is it?
Harbormaster: No, no one really knows. It's … (a beat) … Keeping it all quiet.
Stone: This doesn't mean we're going to have more regulations coming down the line, does it?
Harbormaster: Not sure. I hope not. The spaceport is bad enough already.
Stone: I don't envy you guys having to do all that for all these ships comin' in.
Harbormaster: (sighs) Yeah, no kiddin'.
Stone: What the heck did you have to do for all those ships they turned back?
Harbormaster: Put them in berths or settle them in areas where they could land. And land lock them.
Stone: Ooof. Man, there've gotta be some people pissin' on ya all day.
Harbormaster: (bitter chuckle) Yeah.
Xiu: Yay, for limited comm traffic.
Stone covers the mike and gives Xiu a look: C'mon! We're talkin' here …
Harbormaster: That is, if they were allowed to talk to us. We can only have direct contact with certain ships at certain times, lately.
Stone: Ooof! I knew that our calls weren't gettin' through but I was thinkin' that it was, you know, that we were shut off from people.
Harbormaster: Nope.
Stone: So it's everybody, huh?
Harbormaster: Everybody's shut down.
Stone: Man, that's gotta suck. They must assume we're just burnin' up the lines for no reason, speakin' to you every two minutes.
Harbormaster: And speakin' of which, you're time's just about up.
Stone: Okay. Well, good luck. And be careful.
Stone ends the call and faces his crew.
Oksana: Good job pumping him, by the way. Good job.
Xiu: Everybody wants to talk to customer service but customer service isn't allowed to talk to you.
Stone: Uh-huh.
Xiu: Somewhere out there, there's someone working in retail sayin', Oh, sweet sweet tranquility …
It's a pretty quiet afternoon before the stevedores show up to off-load and on-load our cargo. They're on time. 1500 hours sharp. Our on-loading cargo is right there on the tarmac with them. Stone goes down to meet them and as he verifies the recipients of the off-loading cargo and the destination of the on-going, scanning everything and signing forms, he pumps them for information.
Stone: Anything unusual going on before all this nonsense started? (jerks a thumb skyward)
Stevedore: Nope. We heard the stuff about Albion and now this…
Stone: But that was settled, right?
Stevedore: Yeah, according to the Cortex it should have been taken care of on Albion. Some labor dispute with the Merchants Guild.
Stone: Well, dang. That's weird. Cuz there's nothin' goin' on here. Nothin' like that, right?
Stevedore: No, not at all. But there was some … we did have a couple of scandals regardin' some of our governors. Or at least, somethin' like that.
Stone: But that's just … (whispers) … Politicians always do stupid shit like that.
Stevedore: Yeah. We just think it's probably just they're comin' in—the Main Council comin' in to wave around a little bit.
Stone: (disgusted) I swear to God …
Stevedore: It's nothin' they haven't done before. But not at this scale, so … (shrugs)
Stone: Yeah. I was surprised to see two Tohoku class ships come in here and two more with them continuing on. I mean, good God …
Stevedore: (wait … what?) There were that many that still continued on? Wow. That's crazy.
Crazy talk. For sure, man. That makes the count of Tohokus at four. How many does the Alliance Navy have?
Stone: Yeah. I mean, there's six that I know of. But they don't move. So the four out there got pulled off from—? Or are there four more? What the frack?
Stevedore: Last I heard, nothin's been pulled off. I do know that the Council has separate ships like that. For the roamin' governments. (off Stone's look) We had to service some of their supply craft before.
Stone: Makes sense. (nods) Well …. I guess they'll tell us if they decide to.
Oksana walks down to the cargo bay with her shopping bags on her arm. She hails Stone and walks over.
Oksana: I am going to shop for supplies for the ship. Can I have some money, Captain?
Stone: (pulling out the cash) Here.
'Xiu: (from the catwalk) Pick up some faux fur if you can find any!
Oksana: (calling back) All right. I will try to find faux fur for you.
Stone: Preferably fur that can go underwater. Tell you what. I'll go with you.
The stevedores have everything under control here. They don't need him hanging around. Oksana is wearing her mesh under her clothes and is packing her gun. She and Stone hit the local markets, buying things, and chatting up the vendors to gain more information than we already have. Oksana specifically keeps an eye out for domestic markers: How expensive are the necessities for living? Have prices gone up? How long? Is anything harder to get? If so, what? Why? What's the feeling on the street? Are people more anxious? Fearful? Angry? Or is this business as usual?
Do they even know what's parked in orbit overhead?
Nope. It's pretty much business as usual.
That doesn't wash. How can it be business as usual when you can't do business over phone or comms? When you can't talk to anybody other than face to face. How does regular trade happen under such circumstances? And we aren't even talking about not being able to access the Cortex to look things up for school or research or even watching your favorite vids.
Oksana: (to a green grocer) If the wi-fi isn't on at the corner coffee shop, people would be screaming. So … why aren't they?
Green grocer: Well, there've been some complaint but nothin' crazy. Just "God, I can't wait til they lift this communications gag."
Oksana: So people do know there's a communications gag and they've been given an official story. (sighs) Fill us in? Because we just came in off the turnip truck and we don't know anything about it.
Green grocer: Well, if you listen to the news, you'll know that there's just a discussion going on between the Alliance and the Osiris governing Council. And due to issues on Albion, we're on a communications black out during these discussions.
Stone: So they're claiming they're the staging center for a diplomatic … adventure?
Green grocer: (terse) Yup.
It all sounds reasonable and above board, right? Oksana buys her vegetables, thanks the grocer, and pulls Stone with her as she leaves.
Oksana: I don't think we'll get anything more out of the people on the street.
Stone: I'm getting the same feeling about the military here.
Oksana: Anything we get out of the military would be shots fired in our direction because we pissed them off. So I say we "Yes, sir" them and "No, sir" them and keep our nose clean. And try not to stir up any more attention toward ourselves than we have already in asking questions.
They're walking back to the ship as they talk and they're on the streets with the news hits. It's being broadcast across all channels. All over the city, screens and displays flicker to life. If it's a vid, a radio, a phone, the message is coming through.
The message is this:
There has been a terrorist attack at the Council Hall. Alliance ships are arriving to help evacuate victims caught in the rubble.
Oksana immediately goes into doctor mode, mentally packing her med bag to offer assistance. Where is the Council Hall? Not here. The next city over.
Oksana: I should go.
Stone: I know you want to help people but I don't think this is what you think it is.
Oksana: Do you think this is a lie?
Stone: I think it's orbital bombardment. I think we should be back in our ship.
Oksana: (quietly) Okay.
Stone: And I don't think there's survivors.
He tips his chin at the displays visible on the street. The images showing are horrific. Smoke pours from the building that's been attacked, obviously by some sort of bomb, most likely detonated underneath the structure.
Hmmm… Maybe not orbital bombardment. The blast damage is from a different direction. But still … it's a bad scene. The first ten floors of the fifty floor structure is obliterated. Windows are blown out. Glass is everywhere, along with the smoke and the flames. It's hard to tell from the images if the surrounding buildings were damaged as well. There is little else but chaos at this very moment, as the first responders put out the fires and treat the injured and the dead. Oksana stares at the screens, cataloging the injuries and the fatalities.
Oksana: Is this real? Is it a hoax?
Stone: We're recording this on our ship. When we get back there, you can spend all the time you like looking things over.
Oksana: (snapping to) Right. Even if this is real, it could be staged, justification for whatever is going to happen next. Let's get back to the ship.
By the time they get back to Space Otter, there is a wide band wave broadcasting on all channels.
Broadcast: Due to Terrorist Activity, Osiris is under Planetary Lockdown, effective immediately as the Authorities secure the area. The Osiris Governing Council has survived the attack on the Council Building. The Council is currently safe and suffered fewer fatalities than originally feared with only five deaths.
Oksana: I would like to know the identities of the five dead and which political parties they supported.
Broadcast: All non-Alliance ships will be landlocked for the next 48 hours.
Xiu: When were we supposed to be movin' out?
Stone: Considerably less than 48 hours. It's good that we'd built in the extra time, just in case.
Xiu: Well, there ain't nothin' we can do about it. I'm gonna work on the otter.
Oksana managed to buy the faux fur during the shopping trip and gives it to the engineer. Xiu goes aft to work on her project and as the rest of the crew listens to the broadcast repeat the message, a plethora of Allaince small craft descend through the atmo, blanketing Osiris in high- and low-orbit patrols. Nothing will get through their net. Nothing is going aloft.
Osiris is effectively locked down … for however long her Alliance masters see fit.
Go to Season One: Purpose And Place | Timeline | Those Who Stare In The Black
