Collace Homecoming

[Tiglath]

This being the start of a new Chapter: Collace Homecoming

[Tiglath]

The SEMC and their Merc allies shift for Collace.

The assembled Merc flotilla transitions to jump and the prize crews master their new charges without incident. A week of debrief, repairs, maintenance and vital PT keep up the mercs' discipline and focus.

And yet...

The gestalt moronothon that is "The Scuttlebutt" surges forth unbidden into the slacktime...

Of course, the odds of any of it being based in truth...

would be worthy of someone opening a book on it...

just to pass the time in jump...

The (in Jump) Scuttlebutt

"Caxton's going to start brewing some “moonshine” once we's back. Says he won't let folk drink it until it's good but keep it under yer titfer".
[Collace Trans: titfer = tit for tat = hat. To keep under same being to keep secret]

Florence seems quietly overjoyed to find a “kill ring” painted on her joystick. Her new unit “handle” is "FOD". It's short for - Florence: Object Damage". The Tech unit's stock seems to have gone up somewhat.
"You want FOD on drones when yer out in uloo - she'll kamikharzi it right onto fekkers!"
[Collace Trans: kamikharzi = a potentially life threatening toileting outcome???]

“Are Mike, Route One and Nuts alive?"
"Yer, well the ahtside of 'em, but now Vargr spice eatin' contests are on the list for company punishment for causin' self inflicted injury an' more impotantly - cloggin' the khazi. All bets an' claims are therefore void - Mr. Voss's orders”.
"Borrocks - I 'ad a pony on Route One!"
[Collace Trans: pony = 25 creds. Daft mercs eating raw Vargr spices for bets = see kamikharzi above]

"For fekssakess!!! Wot is the first rule of Philately Club???"

"Ms Freya gave Killer mouth to mouth an brought 'im back from bein' 'ovis".
"Phwoar!"
“Fek that! She's a Droyne - that's 'ow they lay their eggs!!!"
"Ruddy hot Droyne..."
"Lummie - Killer's up the duff an' 'e don't even know it!”
“I wouldn't mind alien impregnation”.
“Kingy, shut it!”
[Collace Trans: 'ovis = Hovis (a surprisingly healthyish) Collace brand of brown bread = dead).]

"Glad to see the back of them furry fekkers!"
"Wot the Arselan?"
"Ruddy Gooners!"
"Wot? No - never mind!"
"Yer fekkin' brave when they're not 'ere incha?"
"They're fekkin' nails - but me bugle's cleared right up now. I reckon I woz allergic".
"Apparently you can utterly hypnotize 'em wiv a bit of anyfin' tugged abaht on a string. Or a laser pointer 's true!"
[Collace Trans: bugle = nose]

"Ole Sugar popped over to the Aslan lines to make a new holo and now she's up the duff. She's lookin' for abhat eight foster parents!"

"Major Nayar and Miss East are now known as The Red Death - because they're like that plague wot kills every fekker wot even gets near it. After the firefight Able 'ad a quick butchers on that Swordy Boat "The 'awkwind". It was fekkin' well naughty. Ten Bratva bodyguards offed like fekkin' Sweeney Todd 'ad made an 'ouse call. Wot a ruddy slaughter! Able said 'e couldn't get dahn the apples cos they was so choked full of dead Bratva fekkers. They weren't playin' neither. Well tooled up wiv milspec gear an' yet 'ovis by all manner of means an' all at once. Some wiv not a mark on 'em".
"That'll be yer Karachi chops an' uvver forms of Kung Phew right there!"
"Phwoar, stone killers an' crumpet wiv it!"
"Yer, wot a pair – an' yet each o' them is an un'inged killer... an... er... wossname... a cycle path!!!"
"Bearin' that in mind callin' 'em after a plague seems a bit strong - maybe we should just go for “Nails an' Razors”. Wouldn't want to cause offence...”
[Collace Trans: Sweeney Todd = a Collace serial killer of renown (and also a squad of fearsome Collace Detectives), butchers = butchers hook = look. 'ovis = dead, Aples = apples and pears = stairs).]

"Shugs found the source for the 'er 'avin' kittens rumour. Grabbed 'im in the showers - threatened to blackball 'im".
"Oh, right - like 'im bein' secretly banned from getting stuff?"
"Er, no, it woz more of... er... an inferred medical outcome".
"Mind you she 'as got form for 'andlin' swollen goods!"
"I won't 'ear a word - she's ruddy lovely!"
"Well, as it goes, you unromantic sods - it all turned out kushti in the end. They're 'avin' dinner dirtside...”
"Fffnnnurrp!"
"Kingy, shut it!"

There it exists as tangible as ether and yet as real as Intel rumour. Interact with what must surely be nonsense if you will...

It's not like there's more...

[BackworldTraveller]

Freya

Permission to promote Florence to Lance-Jack Sir.

And I have some booze under my bunk that I thought the squad might like. I wouldn't want to pay Collace Import Duties on the stuff.

[joertexas]

Prerna arrives on Deliverance's bridge a bare minute before watch change. Her hair is uncombed, and her shipsuit collar is wet on one side. "Sorry, I'm late," she says a bit breathlessly. "I'm ready for the briefing."

[gurusql]

Kit

Kit will spend a couple of hours each day running dry-weapon drills for ship-board combat and heavy exercise by himself, switching up the routine daily. While he will not ask anyone to join him, he will allow others to join if they ask.

[The Bindoner]

Jess establishes a new “lair” on the cargo deck, where she works on the liberated vehicles and oversees the maintenance of the SEMCs – with emphasis on the “disarmed” IFV.

[joertexas]

Prerna debriefs her team using the available sensors data from the battle, looking for any useful bits of information for her own team, and the company at large.

[BackworldTraveller]

Freya lets her team get bored on day-1 of jump-space and then arranges for a series of scanner sims for her squad. She'll also ask the chief engineer if there is a repair bot that the team can practice controlling.

For off-duty hours, she'll put up a bottle for the best a Capella performance by someone from the "Other Ranks". No more than 1 song per person - recordings in round 1; Finals to be performed live on the cargo deck. Judges to be agreed between the officers!

She'll also see if she can work out who the squaddies are that run the book on the result!

[Tiglath]

Jess establishes a new “lair” on the cargo deck, where she works on the liberated vehicles and oversees the maintenance of the SEMCs – with emphasis on the “disarmed” IFV.

The rapid pulse plasma gun will need components from Collace to fix but is repairable.

Jess notes that Gaughan's Rangers seem disappointed in their acquistion of the pair of wheeled APCs which despite respectable auto cannon armament seem to have never been maintained and are equipped with the lowest grade possible "expendables" and no spares. Once properly serviced and maintained they would nevertheless serve well enough for security/rapid response on the Bartizan's bridge approach and flight apron.

[Tiglath]

Freya lets her team get bored on day-1 of jump-space and then arranges for a series of scanner sims for her squad. She'll also ask the chief engineer if there is a repair bot that the team can practice controlling.

For off-duty hours, she'll put up a bottle for the best a Capella performance by someone from the "Other Ranks". No more than 1 song per person - recordings in round 1; Finals to be performed live on the cargo deck. Judges to be agreed between the officers!

She'll also see if she can work out who the squaddies are that run the book on the result!

Alas, none of the booty ships have robots that her team can practice on. Someone will inevitably bring to mind Erica East's bodyguard bot. However, senior members of the SEMC seem to think using this unit for training would (for some reason) be potentially unwise and Ms East herself politely declines the opportunity.

The singing competition goes down very well but Freya feels it does little to promote "the arts". However, it does divert an inordinate amount of skulduggery and scheming to the great benefit of unit discipline whilst in Jump. Quigley (of the Rangers), Able and Charlie appear to have "talent" which they promote (with Baker offering odds). Meanwhile Gaughan appears to be running a book on the efforts of the "managers".

The eventual competition "winner" (after ruthless "nobbling" and elimination of anyone actually vocally talented) is the "dark horse/outsider" Ranger Costello - playing the spoons (allowed in after rigorous argument on the grounds he "hums" in self accompaniment).

[Tiglath]

SEMC makes landfall on Collace without incident and maybe of higher import – gets paid.

The unit spends a few days in admin and maintenance which unleashes: The (Bartizan) Scuttlebutt.

"But did you see yer man Lannigan at the dance? The Morrigan herself came and claimed him, all smiles and sunlight she was, and took him off to an Upspire hotel. He's a kept man up there... in her tower...”

Charlie pours Able and himself another shot of high end Collace gin “'Ere, Able - your new bird. When you're goin' at it do you let 'er guide dog watch?” Able ponders a moment and takes a slow sip before replying “Nah, mate, of a night time 'er guide dog's always rahnd your mum's gaff...”.

“Freddie 'ad annuver barney ahtside 'is “gentlemen's club”. Locals givin' it large - pulled blades on 'im”.
“Cheeky canutes!”
“Ruddy sauce!”
“Course 'e sorted it but they messed up 'is whistle”.
“Fekkin' takin' a liberty!”
“Too right – that's vandalism of yer quality schmutter!”
“So, cancel the holoflick, we're on the town tonight to restore a bit of fekkin' decorum. Ten bells at the gate. It's gentleman's warfare so look smart. Fightin' suits an' tooled up naughty - 'ammers an' bats. We're gonna knock the granny aht of 'em!”

(Collace Translation Service: Whistle = whistle and flute = suit. Schmutter (Collace sub dialect [yiddish]) = clothing. Granny (trans) “starch” - or more graphically sh1t).

"Right, no one knows anyfin' abaht wot Detective O'Malley was askin' Mr Voss abaht whatever it was! An' keep schtum abaht a top story crew in ballyclavas, right? Absolutely nuffin' abaht Milk Tray Men* neither. Or 'ow any of them motors ended up on the far end of the bridge after the squad night out”

(CTS: schtum (Collace sub dialect [yiddish]) = silent, ballyclavas = balaclava = a traditional form of Collace workwear being cloth headgear that exposes only the eyes and mouth.
* Milk Tray Man – a variety of recklessly romantic or suicidal Collace “cat burglar” equipped with scaling gear and prone to attempting the almost inevitably suicidal gambit of climbing uninvited into an unsuspecting Collace lady's boudoir).

“'Old up – just so's I'm straight. Them two sorts are both Mister Voss' “officer's wives” right?”
“Well, yes, an' they are prossies but, in this case, “officer's bird” trumps that! So, call 'em “Ma'am” and no fekkin' 'ands - nor askin' for "favours" on the gate neither!”

[joertexas]

SEMC makes landfall on Collace without incident and maybe of higher import – gets paid.

Prerna goes into wedding planning mode as soon as she can after arrival.

[BackworldTraveller]

SEMC makes landfall on Collace without incident and maybe of higher import – gets paid.

Prerna goes into wedding planning mode as soon as she can after arrival.

Freya checks if she's planning to have the entire SEMC as official or unofficial party-goers.

[joertexas]

Freya checks if she's planning to have the entire SEMC as official or unofficial party-goers.

"Oh, let's invite them all, but there's a two drink limit at the reception party. After that, they can go get tits up on their own."

[BackworldTraveller]

Freya checks if she's planning to have the entire SEMC as official or unofficial party-goers.

"Oh, let's invite them all, but there's a two drink limit at the reception party. After that, they can go get tits up on their own."

Oh good - A new Frock!

You've been here several times - Can you recommend a good couturier? Something classy, so I can stand out from the crowd - but not too much, so I don't shade your ensemble.

[joertexas]

Freya checks if she's planning to have the entire SEMC as official or unofficial party-goers.

"Oh, let's invite them all, but there's a two drink limit at the reception party. After that, they can go get tits up on their own."

Oh good - A new Frock!

You've been here several times - Can you recommend a good couturier? Something classy, so I can stand out from the crowd - but not too much, so I don't shade your ensemble.

"Let me ask Erica, and I'll let you know." Prerna shrugs. "I just want something low key, and I'm pretty certain she does, too."

[Tiglath]

Frank

Dubs states “Sir, there is an urgent priority secure comm for you relayed from Collace High Port”. He adds “Sir, you should really be aware of what's in the “wrapper” on this message”. Dubs flips the "anatomy" of the message on screen and points out the various data addresses monitoring delivery but (apparently) not content.

Monitoring: Collace Navy, Collace System Defence Forces, System Traffic Control, Collace PDF, Imperial Navy [InSystemClassified][Redacted]
Copy: President's Office, Minister Foreign Affairs, Secv Def, Sec Nav, [Collace Ministry Distribution List (Various)].
Default Copy: ISS [Kirkton], Imp Int, Nav Int, System and Orbital Defence Commands (Batteries and Interceptor/SDB wings), Starport Director [Eyes Only]).
Addressee: Senior Executive/Commander Bartizan Low Port Facility
Type: Secure laser comm with one time (disposable) encryption cypher [Imperial Standard].
Security Clearance: [Redacted] Authority Level: Classified

Assuming Frank answers the comm the (according to his identifier/caller ID) private secretary to the Collace Foreign Minister speaks “Ah, Colonel... Cross is it? Well, now... er... Colonel, a visiting foreign vessel has, quite unusually, requested to land... er... berth, yes. To berth neither at the High Port nor at the Up Spire facilities but rather at the facility that I see you apparently occupy... er [his eyebrows raise].... entirely own and control... in partnership with... [his eyes roll] oh, my stars, will it never end!!! Own with our most welcome new neighbours the Iyhula Clan. At the Ministery we are, of course, more than delighted to accede to any of our guests' wishes... no matter how apparently unusual or strangely irregular they may appear to be... but we feel they may perhaps... be mistaken as to their choice of facility. We would encourage you to help them correct their apparent error before any diplomatic sleight is caused to them landing in a... ah... dare I suggest... a wholly “diplomatically inappropriate” area... downspire?” The amount of disdain packed into his last word is quite impressive while his attempted “diplomatic smile” is as weak as dishwater.

[shaidar]

Frank tries his best to keep a neutral face at the mans discomfort.

"Good day. Yes, I am Colonel Cross. I'm sure we can clear this up and prevent any diplomatic problems. What is the ship in question?"

[Tiglath]

Frank

Frank tries his best to keep a neutral face at the mans discomfort.

"Good day. Yes, I am Colonel Cross. I'm sure we can clear this up and prevent any diplomatic problems. What is the ship in question?"

The Minister's private secretary seems at least somewhat relieved at Frank's initial response but his anxiety then immediately redoubles at Frank's question.

The secretary loosens his cravat and then his high collar as he replies "Um... yes, avoid the problems... ha-ha...". [He appears to realise that he just vocalised his nervous laugh and hurriedly presses on]. "Ah, well... busy times... um... the nature of diplomatic duty prevents me from disclosing the details. I can reveal that facilities for a craft of up to a thousand tons would be required but no more than that. Alas, I note... that your facility is... unfortunately... oh... actually it appears that it is [He frowns] rated for handling vessels up to that displacement. How odd... However, if you would just indicate that you can't manage such a craft then we can sort this out, despite their diplomatic insistence, and then berth them somewhere... more manageable..." [He glances offscreen] "...that meets with everyone's... um... approval".

"Um... one moment..." He looks offscreen again and a stressed voice states "Comm call from a Mister van Owen for you. He has top clearance and was... actually rather rude!"

Dubs uses this interruption to switch from his own comm call to add "I know I'm not the expert, sir, so I've just spoken with Captain Domici. The return we'd get from handling a decent sized vessel is none too shabby at all but then there'd then be the opportunity to continue to do so due to the historic Ministery approval". He grins "Collace, sir, no real laws - just precedent. The Captain says our cargo and brokerage business will get a significant boost by expanding into higher tonnage craft. Someone's doing us a real favour".

[shaidar]

Frank mutes his call to the secretary and switches to Dubbs.

"Thank you lieutenant, that's handy to know. Put the call out to make sure we're ready for the ship, pull out all the stops for this one...a call from Van Owen, I almost feel sorry for the man."