Blood in the Water: IC Thread, Fun on the High Seas! Options

[Whizbang]

0935 EDT/1335 Zulu: Mess Hall - MY Fedallah - Port of Miami.
Melisandre the Red

Melisandre was delighted as they were shown to the breakfast of food...real food. That was one thing she had missed since she ran off to follow her dreams. But one of these days she'd strike it big, and she'd have her dreams and luxuries. This sounded like it was going to be a good deal, even if it was going to be alot of protocol and classes and stuff.

She got into talking with Grant. She had always wanted to try flying, though her specialty lay in watercraft. They could both agree on the draw of mechanics, though. Fortunatly, before they got in trouble for getting too technical, John drew her back to more mundane conversation.

"Oh, this? There's this great consignment store I found." Melisandre responded when questioned about her costume. "I wanted to be a pirate like dad. Figured I needed to look the part. Though no one else seems to follow the trids." she said with a frown. "Oh well. I like being unique."

For the benefit of others, she said, "I'm known as Melisandre the Red. I'm used to working with smaller craft, but I'm a good pilot, and I know my way around the Gulf, including ways that draw less attention." she said, wondering how much she should actually say of what she did around the navy people. Of course they probably knew enough already. "I'm also here for all your hacking and programing needs."

[Karoline]

0935 EDT/1335 Zulu: Mess Hall - MY Fedallah - Port of Miami.
Jane

Jane grins at her asignments and... She never did mention her name. the CO's comment. A sense of humor was good, and she figured she'd add to it a bit "It also means you should be nice to me or I may not put your organs back in in the right order.". Her grin shows that she is kidding... probably... you hope.

Her single plate of food is only about half gone by the end of the meal, having spent all her time talking and listening instead of eating, the real food not being a 'rare treat' for her as it is for the others. She's already learned a good deal, even though the conversations kept getting steered away from the technical side of things by the officers.

Leaving the rest of her plate of food to be cleared away, she takes the few minutes she is given to change into the provided clothing in the privacy of her room. I can slap a nice shelf around the top of the room to keep a bunch of stuff on, otherwise this room isn't nearly big enough for everything she thinks to herself as she can barely move around properly thanks to her drones taking up a good chunk of her space.

By the time she arrives on the sun deck at the set time, she already has blueprints for the shelving designed on her commlink, a list of exactly what she'll need attached to it. The navy issue clothing isn't flattering, but she didn't have the most flattering of figures in the first place. Jane was a far cry from the Trideo starlets, but she wasn't fat either. A bit of meat on her as they might say, she didn't really focus much on her appearance or keeping in particularly good shape ((I envision something along the lines of Kayle from Firefly))

[Penta]

MY Fedallah: Port of Miami: 0930-1000 EDT/1330-1400 Zulu
[Not Applicable]

After Rusty announced the assignments, things began to move quickly.

First off, as everyone else went through in-processing, Alan was escorted aside to what used to be the Owner's Study, which Captain Walker was using as an afloat office.

"Alan, I'm sorry to have taken up your time. While we were at breakfast, I received your Lone Star record from ONI. You've been found to be unsuitable for this operation. The Master-at-Arms will have your possessions brought with you to a hotel, where you'll be given accommodations and some nuyen as compensation for your time and trouble. Laes will be administered to wipe your memory of the events of the past few hours, and a cover story will be put in place. Do you understand?" Walker asked.

Alan nodded his understanding. Shortly thereafter, he was escorted off the ship by two big MPs in civilian clothes, who also carried his equipment.

After being put into a cab, he was taken to a hotel. Not a luxury place, really a budget place, but much nicer than he could have afforded himself. He was escorted to his room by the MPs, who then administered the Laes and performed the necessary editing to his commlink's memory.

He was credited with 6000 nuyen to his commlink - the government could afford to be generous at this point - and given the contact information of a fixer in the Miami area to replace Roberts, but was otherwise left undisturbed. The story was that he was a drunk guy who came by to sleep off the liquor instead of driving home.

When the MPs returned at 0950, the ship's intercom called out the following announcement, preceeded by the shrill tone of a Bosun's pipe.

"Attention all hands, attention all hands, this is the Captain speaking. One individual has been removed from the program due to unsuitability. Alpha Watch, man your stations and prepare to leave dock. Trainees, stand by for further orders. That is all."

The gangplank was retracted and the anchor raised. The ship was disconnected from shore power and other lines, and the mooring lines were taken up.

It would be as if it had never been there.

By 0955, the ship had begun moving from the pier, exiting the Port of Miami, looking for all the world like any other yacht.

By 1000, it had left the Port behind, and was passing Key Biscayne en route to the Atlantic Ocean. The intercom was softer this time as it announced:

"Attention all hands, attention all hands. All personnel not on watch, report to Aft Sun Deck in 15 minutes for certain business of the ship."

Following that, a com from Walker to the trainees, now 8 in number:

<Greetings, everyone. I realize the uniforms might come as a bit of a shock to you all, but they were suggested by Chief Ramirez. For reasons of safety, to be honest - your training will take you all over the ship, including to spaces where looser clothing, for instance, might not be safe. They remain, however, optional - and are not intended for wear off-ship. Your choice on whether you wish to use them after training. They're a test of a new working uniform for enlisted sailors - you guys were already getting lavished with budget dollars, so this was gleefully approved by Washington, eager to save money on basic testing. Comments are welcome on any issue, I'll make sure they get to the right place. Aside from the uniforms - please be aware that you are cordially invited to the events on the Sun Deck, for...certain activities, as well as the official unsealing of your orders and the issuance of the Letter of Marque. It's optional, yet highly recommended you make an appearance. After that, we'll be beginning your training. - Walker>

Meanwhile...

Upon entering his quarters, George finds: A fully set up icon corner in the outward port corner of his quarters. Included are the icons of St. George, Dragonslayer of Lydda; St. Michael the Archangel; St. Philo the Protector, Patron of Athens; the Holy Theotokos; and St. Romanos, the Melodist. There's also a note, written in Greek: "Because you somehow manage to balance God with the things of this Earth, we were impressed. Consider this an encouragement from the Navy as to such a balance. May you be more than just another privateer. - Roberts"

Upon entering her quarters (the Captain's quarters, near the owner's study), Rusty finds: A small bookshelf, stacked with books on any manner of subject relevant to the mission ahead (plus fiction related to the sea and space; there's evidently a Horatio Hornblower fan, as those novels occupy a decent chunk of space), as well as a Marine sword, hanging in its scabbard on the wall. There's also a note, handwritten in English, in careful script: "I hope you don't mind the personal touches, Captain. The books we bought from around the DC area - I recommend reading them when you get the chance, but it's your choice. Though you may not like the Marine Corps much anymore, it remembers well your faithful service. We ask no more than that, even this time. - Vaccaro"

Upon returning to her quarters after the events on the Sun Deck, Jane finds: A similar bookshelf, this one stocked with any number of technical journals, sci-fi, and similar geeky stuff. There's also a note: "I doubt we could ever quite satisfy your mind, but we did try. You'll find any number of little touches around this boat if you look hard enough. Nothing to be wary of, don't worry. Rather, they may come in handy. We had to spend the last bit of our budget for the mods somehow. - Benitez" There's also supplies for any additional shelving she may need.

Upon entering her quarters, Melisandre finds: This is a tinkerer's cave. There's any number of technical journals on chips, including some highly-specialized ones. There's also a note: "Welcome, in a very real way, to the Shadows. Though you enter into the darkness, allow me to take this moment to encourage you to remain on the side of the light. - Roberts"

Upon entering his quarters, Simon finds: A shelf, mostly empty, except for a Hausa-English dictionary on a chip. And a note: "You've made an interesting transition, Simon. From Africa to Miami. It's impressive. Though we couldn't think of what to get you to fill this place up, take the space as you will. Use it for yourself. - Roberts"

Upon entering his quarters, Zalermo finds: A bookshelf, similar to the others, stocked with books on the law, fiction stories of good vs. evil (including the Arthurian cycles), chip-books on any number of diverse subjects, and more. Plus a note: "You made quite the impression this morning, Zalermo. While you aren't quite as charming as you think you are, may what is provided here help keep you looking towards the light, fighting the good fight, and working for the little guy. - Roberts"

Upon entering his quarters, John finds: A shelf, stocked with books. Books on any number of subjects - seemingly a sampling of every subject which you might find in a college core curriculum, helped by some books being on chip. And a note: "All the books? No reason. There's promise in you yet. Consider the books an invitation to extend your mind as the events to come await. - Roberts"

Upon entering his quarters, Iago finds: Books upon books of magic. Theory, practice, threats. All on paper. And a note: "I'm heading to a new station after this assignment, and when I was told to pack for Miami, I figured I may as well donate some of my texts. You have an interesting view of the Talent. I think you might benefit by additional education; Consider this my contribution to that effort. Stay in the light. -Esteban"

<OOC: What you find in your quarters? Consider it my gift for sticking with me through the weeks of setup. There are more things to find throughout the vessel; Nothing decisive, but small things. Training will, hopefully, move at a faster pace. - Your GM>

[Penta]

<OOC: I r bored, so you get another post!>
MY Fedallah: 1015 EDT/1415 Zulu, 1 June 2072: Offshore of Miami

As the crew gathered on the Sun Deck, most were in their working uniforms, except for the officers who had been present at the breakfast that morning, who were still in their dress uniforms. The crew, except for the shadowrunners, quite naturally gathered in ranks, though standing at ease. Then, the Captain stepped out from the line of officers, and proceeded to a position with his back to the sea as the yacht motored past Key Biscayne into the Atlantic. Curiously, the shadowrunners were also directed to the front row of those attending.

"Everyone, thank you for coming. As I mentioned, there is certain business of the ship that I must conduct before all of you," Walker began.

"On that note....

"Lieutenant Roberts, front and center." ordered the Captain. Roberts walked up, looking quite surprised, but then saluted. As his salute was returned, he dropped it, remaining at attention as Captain Walker spoke again.

"We received certain news from Washington overnight. Namely of certain actions confirmed by the Senate."

"Attention to orders." As one, the naval and marine crew of the ship snapped to rigid attention.

"The President of the United Canadian and American States, acting upon the recommendation of the Secretary of the Navy and with the advice and consent of the Senate of the United Canadian and American States, has placed special trust and confidence in the patriotism, integrity, and qualities of Lt. Kevin G. Roberts. In view of these special qualities and his demonstrated potential to serve in the higher grade, Kevin G. Roberts is promoted to the permanent grade of Lieutenant Commander, United Canadian and American States Navy, effective 1 June 2072. By order of the Secretary of the Navy."

"Now, if the Prospective Commanding Officer and Executive Officer of this vessel would please step forward, and assist in the pinning on of Lt. Commander Roberts's new rank."

After that is done, Zalermo is nodded to step back, as Roberts and Walker raise their right hands, and Rusty is handed a Bible by Chief Ramirez, open to Isaiah 6:8. Roberts places his left hand on the open Bible, and repeats after Walker:

"I, Kevin G. Roberts, having been appointed a Lieutenant Commander in the United Canadian and American States Navy,.do solemnly swear that I will support and defend the Constitution of the United Canadian and American States against all enemies foreign and domestic; that I will bear true faith and allegiance to the same; that I take this obligation freely, without any mental reservation or purpose of evasion; and that and that I will well and faithfully discharge the duties of the office on which I am about to enter. So help me God."

At that point, Walker extends his hand. "Congratulations, Commander. Your orders to your next posting are being decided upon in Washington as we speak, and will be delivered to you at our destination."

After the applause dies down, handshakes are exchanged between the newly promoted and well-wishers, etc., the assembled crew returns to their ranks, and to an at-ease position.

"And now for the moment our guests have all been waiting and suffering through the formalities for," Walker noted with a grin. "More formalities, this time directly relevant to them."

"Attention to orders." Once again, the crew snaps to attention.

Walker then unsealed an envelope with a knife, pulling out the contents, before unfolding them and beginning to read them.

"Top Secret. 27 May 2072. To: The crew of MY Fedallah. Crew of the MY Fedallah: Acting under the authority granted me by the resolution passed by the Congress of the United Canadian and American States, I issue to you the enclosed Letter of Marque, with the aforementioned restrictions upon your activities to be considered a part of these orders. Upon receipt of these orders, you are to proceed to Cape May, New Jersey, there to disembark the naval and marine personnel posted aboard. Prior to such disembarkation, you are to engage in such training as may be decided upon by Captain Walker. Upon such disembarkation, you are to find and assault the Aztlan-flag Merchant Vessel Chantico's Bounty, endeavoring to capture it and the cargo there aboard. You are then to engage in such communications as Captain Walker shall specify. Upon such communications, further orders shall be issued, releasing you to independent duties consistent with the Letter of Marque. In engaging in such duties, you are not to attack vessels flying the flags of the United Canadian and American States, the Confederated American States, the Empire of Japan, or any of the Native American Nations. You shall also refrain from attacking the vessels of any of the megacorporations holding seats upon the Corporate Court, except for Aztechnology. These orders shall be read and acknowledged by the Commanding Officer of MY Fedallah, and thereafter destroyed by burning in the presence of Captain Walker.

"Signed, Angela Colloton, President of the United Canadian and American States."

Walker handed Rusty the orders, then. "Do you acknowledge and understand these orders, Captain?"

Once she signaled her acknowledgment, Walker took out an old-fashioned cigarette lighter (a zippo lighter, to be specific, opened it, and flicked it on, setting the flame to the orders and the envelope. Once the fire consumed both the paper and the envelope, Walker dumped the ashes overboard.

"I certify that the orders have been destroyed after being read and acknowledged, in fulfillment of said orders. Crew, dismissed. Trainees, you have 10 minutes to finish getting ready. You will then report to your trainers as indicated by com message."
---

<OOC: I'm now available to work with people if they want help doing a post covering the first day (8 hours) of training, until 1900 EDT. At 1900, well, You're informed by com message from Chief Ramirez that you're all invited to a "wetting-down" (with alcohol!) of Lt. Cmdr. Roberts's new rank. In short, we skim past the first day of training, you can skim past the party or not, and head into the second day. Email me if you'd like the help.>

[CollateralDynamo]

Miami: 1 June 2072, 1000
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
Pier 34

This was the first time he had seen his quarters. The notes from Roberts and the books had been nice gestures, though Zalermo doubted he would be taking any real interest in law anytime soon. On the other hand, the books did give his quarters an heir of legitimacy. This could be useful if he was ever required to host unexpected visitors from off ship. The comment Roberts had made on his card still bugged Bobby, "Not as charming as you think?" What the fuck is he trying to tell you, Bobs? Bobby knew that that couldn't be the case. Roberts and Walker had already taken a shine to him, and before long he hoped to get the rest of the UCAS naval crew in his corner. They could serve as very valuable friends back home.

Bobby had stripped off his clothes down to his form fitting under armor and was looking at the mirror in his quarters. He held up the uniform he had been given. At least it matches your eyes, omae. He debated it for some time before finally donning the uniform over his body armor. It made him heavier, but he still wasn't exactly sure what was planned. And, when he saw "Albatross" go, he couldn't help but wonder if all of them would be drugged and taken off to some hell hole if they gave the navy long enough...

He put Betsy on the bed, eyed her for a moment or two, before reporting to the summons.

The rest of the night and the following day was a blur of activity. Intelligence training was as dull as he had feared, however viewing things from the perspective of XO, as well as some of the general training he was getting, was an interesting change of pace. Some holes from his hodge-podge Cuban Police/Government/Awakened Soldier training were finally getting filled in. He was sure that would be quite useful. Upon hearing around noon that there would be a "wet celebration" later in the day, Zalermo decided he could handle himself until then. It was the light at the end of his boring, tiring tunnel.

[Karoline]

Lt. Commander Roberts was the last into the small room. It had 3 college-style desks adjustable for various metatypes, paper and pens for notetaking, and a table for the instructor, with a chair. All other furnishings had been cleared out - they would, he assured, be put back after the course was complete. The hatch into the compartment was closed and locked.

"Lady," he nodded to Jane who smiled back at him, "and Gentlemen. Welcome to HUMINT Intelligence Analysis. This course deals with classified information - as such, you will be searched before every class by the MPs. Notes must be taken on the provided paper, and shall be collected at the end of every class. They will be returned the next day. White Noise Generators are active. This room is swept for bugs before every class. Commlinks must be turned off and handed to me or such others as may instruct at every class. Further security measures are also being taken. As the days progress, we may allow some technological assistance, such as disposable, restricted commlinks for note-taking; they will also be collected at the end of class."

Jane looked down at the paper in disbelief Write notes on the paper? that had to be one of the most archaic things she'd been told to do in years. Sure, she had learned to write back in grade school, back before the crash when not everyone had a commlink of their very own. Sure she even had good handwriting and was reasonably quick... Oh well, it isn't like I actually need to write any of this down anyway. It had been even longer since she'd needed to look at a dictionary than it had been since she'd written things down on paper. She gives up her dragonfly drone and commlink, but is allowed to keep the various tools that she has already filled her outfit's pockets with.

Following the searches and collections (everything was gathered into a labeled box, one per person), the MPs left.

"I would apologize for the extreme security, but I won't bother. You are being taught the tradecraft of intelligence analysis. We will be covering very sensitive topics. Nothing you learn in this course is to be repeated without my authorization or, at the very least, the authorization of headquarters higher than me. Ever, for your entire lifetime. What you do with this knowledge we cannot control...But if you ever turn it against the UCAS, we will treat you like a traitor and deal with you accordingly, whether you are a UCAS citizen or not. If you spread it on, the same rules apply. A hint: We give traitors lethal injections."

He then sets down the notecard he was reading from.

"And now we move beyond the warnings and such that my superiors demanded. We're going to, because my working presumption is that none of you have ever been formally trained in Intel Analysis, define terms. HUMINT is Metahuman Intelligence, that intelligence collected by metahuman sources, be they enhanced or not. Most commonly, this happens through interrogation, but it also happens through more interesting methods, too. Namely, the recruitment and handling of agents, a case officer's primary task. Note the terminology. They are never spies. Spies are the other guy's agents in our organization. We kill convicted spies. They are agents. You are not a spy. You are a case officer. In this case, an independent case officer. Case officers operate under two distinct milieus: Official cover and non-official cover. Official cover means you have diplomatic immunity and are officially recognized as being attached to said government; very rarely, the other government, usually an allied one, might know you're in intelligence. This is really rare, mostly reserved for liasion officers, as few of those as there are. More commonly, though, you take up a position as a diplomat, and nobody but you, the Ambassador, the Station Chief, and the folks back at your agency headquarters in Washington and the Department of State headquarters knows you're actually in intelligence. Non-official cover is everybody else: You, me during my time in Miami, et cetera. We operate with no official protection, and no ties to our government, except as can be explained by our cover.”

"Analysis is, as Aetherpedia puts it, 'the process of taking known information about situations and entities of strategic, operational, or tactical importance, characterizing the known, and, with appropriate statements of probability, the future actions in those situations and by those entities.' Before you analyze it, it's raw intelligence, or often simply information. After you analyze it, it's finished intelligence. Often-times, in your role as independent operators, you will be required to both pass on raw intelligence to higher elements for analysis, but also analyze it locally for tactical or operational information."

This lecture goes on for 2 hours, with a 10-minute break in-between. It covers the very basics. Next class, moved into after a 5 minute break, covers the very basics of HUMINT collection - how to blend into a crowd, how to shake a tail, etc. Another 5 minute break, and then comes the long haul. 4 hours on Interrogation. For Zalermo, much of it is old-hat, but for Jane and John, much should be new. It doesn't cover how to resist interrogation, but instead covers how to interrogate, both in prepared settings and unprepared. Prepared being settings you control, like an interrogation room - unprepared being situations like, say, a party.

The class ends with homework being given out. “At the party tonight, you'll be given a target. You're to elicit information from them. Nothing deep, nothing secret, but try to get to know everything you can about them. You will then return tomorrow and report what you learned.”

“The targets are as follows: Zalermo gets Lt. Grant; Jane gets Ensign Wilson, Lt. Benitez's second-in-command; John gets Major Vaccaro.”

Overall Jane enjoys the course. All throughout it she doesn't write down a single thing. Once or twice she considers drawing something on the paper, but the fact that it will be taken up dissuades her from doing such. She doesn't ask to have anything repeated, though occasional clarification or related questions are asked. It's a shame this has to be taught as a group, we could go much faster one on one.

[Ears]

Miami: 1 June 2072, 1028
Simon, private mode
MY Fedallah
This is your new uniform now. Looking at himself in an AR mirror, Simon shrugs and stuffs his comm, his welcoming gift - a dictionary, do they think I'm dumb? Nah, they didn't make that major a major if they were that kind of people. Hope I get more time to talk to him, he seemed like a nice fellow at the breakfast. And what a breakfast that was. He looks at the chip in his hand once more. Honestly, how good is my nautical terminology in English? Heck, how good is it in Hausa? "Thoughtful", he mutters and runs off to his first class after slotting the chip into his comm.
Hopefully I'll have the time to throw together some script to get me a list of all the nautical entries in this bugger.

Soon, this thought is lost, as Simon is thrown into the midst of a tight training schedule, broken only by very short breaks far too valuable to spoil by coding. After a day that seems like it was only a minute long, given how little opportunity to look at a watch did it contain, Simon runs to his quarters for a quick shower and change before the celebration ceremony. Putting a fresh uniform on, Simon can't help but think about the design again. These things are so light, they're almost uncomfortable. Not a shred of armour, it's like fighting naked. Yeah, I know, we're not supposed to fight in them. As if anything ever goes down as planned. And we don't have to wear them. Not? We're a team now. Better, we're a unit. At least once the civilians get the hang of it. Shouldn't we have a proper uniform then? For unit cohesion. Maybe I can get a tad of armour onto these things. Not too much though, drowning ain't all that much fun, last I heard. But heck, that short swim was nice. And just when I thought I'd go crazy from equations upon equations! Navigation Officer Simon - what an odd idea. Simon runs out of the door of his room, turns back, puts his discarded clothes and the used towel into a basket and heads out again. A tight schedule is no excuse to gt sloppy. No matter how much you'd like to ask maj. Vaccaro whether you can take a swim any time you want without having to worry about anything that likes a Troll-sized snack.

[CollateralDynamo]

Miami: 1 June 2072, 1600
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
Pier 34

As the class ended, Bobby looked down at his notes. You drew a picture of Betsy and Jane making out? Betsy is a GUN...Bobs...what is wrong with you. Zalermo smirked and then his ears picked up when he heard the word "assignment".

“The targets are as follows: Zalermo gets Lt. Grant; Jane gets Ensign Wilson, Lt. Benitez's second-in-command; John gets Major Vaccaro.”


Well, so much for a completely entertaining evening. Although...you were probably going to do this anyway, neh?

As the class session ended, Bobby tore his sheet of notes up into small pieces, neatly stacked them, and handed them to Roberts with a smile. It wasn't that Zalermo hadn't paid attention, he had, he had even learned quite a few things. He just found the use of notes that he couldn't keep worthless, and he lacked the ability to push paper for 8 hours straight...so his mind had wandered once or twice. His thoughts quickly turned to the celebration tonight.

[Knight Saber]

MY Fedallah: 1015 EDT/1415 Zulu, 1 June 2072: Offshore of Miami
[Fiona “Rusty” O'Roarke as Terry Jones - Hidden]

Heading into her quarters to change, Rusty is surprised to find the Marine saber there, and more surprised to find the note. "Someone's pushing my buttons" she thinks. "It was the right button to press..." she had to admit, taking it down and drawing it. "I can't say 'no' to that. Things will be different this time though."

She gets into her uniform ("One more 'never again' today...") and heads for the ceremony, swearing the oath and meaning it. She congratulates Roberts on his promotion, and means it. "You're a stand-up guy" she tells him, high praise from her.

The orders regarding the mission, the first target, crystalizes her resolve. She acknowledged them and saluted crisply. "Not much time, no team training, classic FUBAR in the making... and no one's fault but mine" she realizes. With that thought in mind, she throws herself into her training, latching onto Walker spare minute. Marines have a low opinion of Navy guys, but she has to admit they know what they're doing in handling ships, and that's what she needs to know to keep her crew alive.

[Marwynn]

MY Fedallah: 1 June 2072 1018 EDT/1418 Zulu
[Jonas, Private]
Quarters

Think I need the help, huh? Jonas bridles silently as he crushes the note. Just because you're more learned doesn't mean... Easy, easy. Take it, be better than you already are.

He changes into his uniform quickly, taking time to admire its cut in front of a mirror. Admittedly Jonas hadn't prepared himself for four gruesome days of training, but he loved challenges, especially since he could strike a balance between physical and mental ones. He caught his eyes in the mirror, knowing full well that he was capable yet inexperienced in this world. I'm freaking essential! But the others, well some, look like they know what they're doing. 'Thaumaturgical Officer' what a joke, I'm the only spellslinger here... couldn't get anyone else? Screw that, I'm gonna make them believe I'm the best choice.

Jonas sits and calmly breathes, taking in his new home for the forseable future. He plasters a smile he's seen on every confident trid naval officer's face and walks out as his 'link beeps, directing him to his first lesson.

[budoka05]

My Fedallah 1000 EDT
Quarters
Wistful, John caressed the books. He could hardly believe Roberts would remember anything as trivial as John’s long-term goals. It must have been the time when Roberts and I laid low together after a run.

1045 EDT

After the ceremony, John heartedly congratulated Roberts for the promotion and deeped thanked him for the gifts. Walking over to Captain Walker John jokingly asked, "Will Commander Roberts still be our handler and primary contact? It hardly seems we would match his pay grade."

Switching to a more serious tone, “Sir when would be a good time to go over the intel about the Azzie vessel and to go over the mission objectives?” Growing up partially in Amazonia, John had the vaguest notion of the nasty drek the Azzies could be up to, and he thought to be on his best alertness.

1100 to 1600 EDT
John’s hands danced across pages upon pages of paper notes. Ever since watching trids as a kid, he had been intrigued by intelligence work. Finally he could possess the skills to extract information from anyone or anything!

Well almost anyone or anything, John quickly came to the realization that the intelligence business was not all wham bam thank you ma’am upon hearing the details. However, dangerous game of being a NOC was enough to keep John’s interest.

After a final review to seed some of the information into his head, John neatly handed the his notes atop the torn ones. The lack of many notes was clearly apparent. John couldn’t help but think he was probably the freshest of the bunch. Dejected, John considered how out-classed he was in this area.

However, when John became committed to something, he stuck to it. Liquid would say too much so, but John was at least capable of commitment. He planned how to get more information from Vaccaro. He seemed like a nice enough fellow from the discussion over the breakfast table. Hopefully, the brass didn’t order him to be evasive as possible!

[Whizbang]

MY Fedallah: Port of Miami: 1000 EDT/1400 Zulu
Quarters
Melisandre the Red


Melisandre squealed in delight as she found her cave. Despite being a definitive gearhead, she was still very much a girl. While she loved the decor of her room, she was less than enthusiastic about the uniform. But military school, military uniform. She didn't plan on hanging on to it after their lessons were over. She prefered her individuality. Even if this uniform probably would be easier to get grease stains out of.....

MY Fedallah: 1015 EDT/1415 Zulu, 1 June 2072: Offshore of Miami
Sun Deck

Melisandre watched the ceremony with somber interest. This was something more like the naval trids she had watched. Hearing their orders, she was curious about the target. She made a mental note to go hunting for information on their target when she had free time. Perhaps she'd be able to multitask during one of her classes. But she really wanted to get something to prove that she was more than a rank newbie.


MY Fedallah: 1035 EDT/1435 Zulu, 1 June 2072: Offshore of Miami
Intel Classroom

Five minutes into class, and Melisandre already knew she wasn't going to be multitasking this class. Even if her commlink hadn't of been confiscated, there was still far too much being thrown at her for her to focus on anything else. She took extensive notes, hoping that she'd be able to remember everything, even with them being taken up at the end of the day. But it was exciting knowing that she was being trained to be a spy....well, an agent. It was almost as exciting as becoming a privateer. Well, the thoughts were exciting....the practical work was boring, but she still stuck to it.

[Penta]

1 June 2072: MY Fedallah: Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean
[Not Applicable]
1800 hours, 1 June 2072

The ship's bell rang four times over the intercom, signalling the end of the regular training day and the end of the afternoon watch for the rest of the crew.

"Bravo Watch, stand by for relief. Charlie Watch, report to your stations. Evening Mess will be served in 30 minutes, Dress Whites or Service Uniforms," announced a crewmember over the intercom.

At the same time, the shadowrunners' commlinks beeped with an incoming text message:

<I didn't lie when I said the formalities were over with earlier, folks. Dress Whites are traditional for any wetting-down, though I warn that this particular party is being combined with a traditional at-sea Mess Night for members of the command; thus, you'll see a mix of both traditions. Mr. Vice, Ensign Parker, will explain where need be via com-message. For you folks, decent civvies will do. Nothing too formal, but I'd avoid showing up as you did this morning, for instance. "Business Casual", I suppose. A word on alcohol: By longstanding General Order, the Navy used to be "dry"...Had been since 1914, actually. But since the Union of the old US and Canada (US Navy was dry; Canadian Navy wasn't. Canada, for once, won the battle - sort of, with the assistance of their USN comrades), we allow very limited alcohol consumption...Only at mealtimes, only if you're off-duty, only in the Mess Hall or Wardroom, only if you're of legal age (18), and the decision of the mess whether or not to stop serving you alcohol is absolutely final. For this op, however, I issued a standing order to the crew, which will apply to you while we're aboard: You may drink anywhere except the bridge and other operational spaces (like the engine room), so long as you're off-duty and no less than 2 hours from going on duty, with no restriction on age or amount, so long as amount stays within reason. We ask that the younger members of the crew who happen to be below drinking age not write home about this fact...And that their older comrades, including you folks, make sure they don't overdo it. Oh, yes: Absolutely no drinking games, dammit; that kills people. If you see any, let me know by comm so that a quiet word might stop them before they go too far. If you start any, I will feed you to the sharks.

Finally, bear with us through the toasts, the speeches, etc. They're tradition. The Navy is big on tradition, almost as much as the Marines. Even in our fun, which amidst the formality of dinner (and the informality of later), this is meant to be for all involved. When an officer is being promoted, especially after a long stretch of independent duty (though usually that doesn't mean of the sort that Roberts has been through!), those traditions are important. Even the somber ones, of which you'll note one or two. Perhaps especially the somber ones. - Walker>

At 1830, the doors to the Mess opened and the crew entered to the sound of the opening bars of "Anchors Aweigh", finding an unusually formal setup - as at breakfast and lunch, the silverware was real (as was the food, yet to be served); the long table was replaced with many short ones, sufficient to hold the whole crew, or at least those not on duty, plus their guests. Curiously, a table was set, but was never occupied: Featuring the service caps of each of the armed services, this table had a black tablecloth (versus the usual white ones), an inverted wine glass, blank dog tags next to each service cap, and a lemon slice on the plate.

And so it began. With the usual toasts to the President (as Commander-in-Chief, drunk sitting (another imported British custom)) and to the Navy, with a toast to the new Lt. Commander...And a somber toast, drunk only with water, not the usual port for the loyal toast, or rum for the toast to the Navy. This toast was to the departed and absent: to "Fallen Comrades". At the conclusion of the toast, "Taps" was played by a bugler at each end of the ship.

With that somber note complete, though, the fun began. Dinner was roast beef and potatoes, or a vegetarian selection, with appropriate appetizers, soups, and desserts. To drink? Fine wines, by the glass, red or white as might be preferred, or water as desired. Seating tonight had the shadowrunners spread out - sprinkled amidst the crew. Indeed, the entire setup (except for the head table) had different departments and organizations mixed up and jumbled - aiding in the prevention of "talking shop", a breach of the Mess's rules. Fortunately for Simon, at his table was to be found a rarity: An Intelligence Ensign who spoke Hausa! There were speeches commemorating the Lt. Commander's career: A trid speech from his old Professor of Naval Science at Georgetown; Another trid speech, this time from his first CO. A speech from Captain Walker. And a speech from friends in the command. Theme of the night: Roberts's successes, but also (in a good-natured way) his foibles, throughout his career, which up to now had been characterized by an astonishingly rapid rise (a rise which everyone hoped would continue).

After dinner, the party moved to the stern of the ship, where the fare went from high-class to plebian - beer, barbeque, burgers, and other fare from the grill, including freshly-caught-and-cleaned fish. Still real beer and real food, but the entire atmosphere changed - from a formal mess night with informal touches to an incredibly informal gathering. It was much more possible for, say, the Intel Analysis students to meet and chat with their targets, though they had to be careful to let them circulate so as not to arouse suspicion.

Suddenly, around 2000, came a noise, a clatter. Yes, the time had arrived. With due ceremony and no small amount of teasing (and a good-natured attempt at resistance and possibly an attempted escape by the newly-promoted), Roberts was thrown into the ocean by his fellow officers (led by Lt. Esteban). In his dress whites. Fortunately, the ship was stopped and the sea life was far away, enabling Roberts to surface and swim back to the ship. First words out of his mouth upon returning to the ship? "I thought the water was warmer this time of year!" That got laughs, hearty laughs from most present as the ship resumed sailing. The party continued until easily midnight, though guests began drifting off (whether to their bunks or to stand watch) about 2330.

2 June 2072: MY Fedallah: Somewhere in the Atlantic Ocean

After a short sleep, the day began early for the trainees. At 0500, to be exact, each was awoken by a junior officer knocking at their door. Breakfast would be served at 0600, with classes beginning 0645. Breakfast was again real food and drink, and again eaten at a common table with the trainers - this time, everyone was in working uniforms, and things were distinctly less formal than they had yet been. Only the most basic rules of the mess were observed: No weapons or other working implements at the table, no classified information, and no talking shop. Besides the restrictions on classified info and talking shop, any topic was open. And topics across the spectrum were covered, from politics to sports to, in one weird diversion, fiber-optic hair. It turned out that political opinion at the table was infinitely more varied than one might expect of military personnel: While Roberts and Walker professed neutrality, the other naval and marine personnel at the table had perspectives that occupied practically every spot on the spectrum, depending on issue. The one thing that was eschewed universally was any real binding party loyalties. On sports, much of the group were traditionalists. There was, despite that, a common love for Urban Brawl, especially the smaller teams.

After breakfast, training resumed from 0745 to 1245, when classes broke for lunch, which was similar to breakfast. After lunch, training resumed at 1345 and continued until 1900, when classes paused for dinner at 1930. After that was free time; that is, until 0600 the next day, when everything started up again.

The routine continued, through rough weather on the 3rd that delayed the trip by 48 hours, as the ship had to maneuver around a tropical storm (which was safely at sea and not expected to make landfall, though it did make the seas choppy), and clear weather on the 4th and 5th. The sixth brought an unusual source of excitement: A fishing boat was reported sunk by a Kraken attack, and Fedallah, along with every ship in the area, military or civilian, was called in to assist in Search and Rescue operations. Classes continued more-or-less as normal (except for the postponement of Scuba Ops, as the ship couldn't stop), but it added an element of tension to the voyage - and a 12-hour delay. In the event, the few survivors of the voyage were found by a coast guard ship 200 nautical miles away from Fedallah's position in the search.

Now, during the fifth and sixth day, the Intel Analysis class was able to expand to fill the extra time, but there was only so much they could teach on the other subjects. Hence, those not involved in the Intelligence Analysis class found themselves asked (not required, but asked) to stand watches, as a way of gaining experience with the vessel and with maritime life generally. If they had no experience helming a ship, they stood it under Chief Ramirez's guidance. If they did, they were placed as Junior Officer of the Deck under Captain Walker or Lt. Commander Roberts.

Then, on the seventh day, they were scheduled to dock in the evening. Hence, Captain Walker called a meeting of the shadowrunners after breakfast, including them, him, and Lt. Commander Roberts, but nobody else.

"Okay, folks. We're about to dock in Cape May tonight. This will mark our departure, and you officially assuming control of this vessel - with about a 24 hour turnaround time to allow for refueling, restocking of provisions, et cetera. So you effectively get at least 24 hours of shore leave, on the Navy's tab - we'll pay for a max of 72, assuming there are no delays. But before that all happens, there are things you all need to settle and I need to take notes on. Before the fun begins, when everybody's calm and rational, these things need to be settled: How you're going to divide your three-quarters of any takings, what your cover will be, and what your backup cover will be in case your cover fails," Walker stated once they were all gathered.

"So far as takings goes, whatever you decide will work out fine, we just need to know what you decide.

"So far as covers go: We definitely need to know that. That will determine how you get contacted, what you get asked to do, and so forth. Try to choose a cover that not only gives an excuse for everything you're carrying, but also anything...Odd...you may be doing. Your backup cover not only has to be even more solid than your front-line cover, it has to explain why you were lying. And it can't point back to the UCAS government. With that said, I'll sit back and let you all discuss amongst yourselves. The only times me and Commander Roberts will comment on your plans is if we identify obvious holes or issues, especially with your covers. Otherwise, the Navy role will be to facilitate those covers."
---
<OOC: Okay, guys. I know you have most of this done OOCly, but I'd like to see it put out there ICly, just so that (when we inevitably become too big for just one OOC thread) the details are easy to find. Once those matters are taken care of, you may proceed to do what you like in Cape May.

On a purely OOC basis, expect me to be quiet for a few days - I have schoolwork I need to keep up with. - Your GM.>

[Marwynn]

8 June 2072: MY Fedallah: Cape May
[Jonas, Private]
6:40 am

Jonas yawned for show after downing the last of his real orange juice, even a week's worth of drinking the stuff still hadn't worn the novelty off. "Someone here remarked that this yacht of ours seems like a rich kid's toy, but if they saw the gear below decks they'd say it's a really rich kid's toy. Sorry, I don't remember who suggested it but it was proposed during one of our oh-so-delicious meals that perhaps we capitalize on that. We show these spoiled brats the crazy life of a scallywag swashbuckler. Give 'em a few paintguns, we can land on an island and do stuff there. Anyone ever play king of the hill as a kid? Just like that but with automatics and maybe speedboats."

"Like those 'Take a Vacation From Yourself' deals Horizon always plasters around autumn. Anyone gives us a second look and we say 'Hey, these kids' parents are some of the most powerful executives in the UCAS. Why wouldn't we be packing our various toys and sail around in a less than capable vessel?' and so on. If the kids get nosy, we tell them they're on camera, which they are anyways." Jonas theatrically points to one of the many cameras embedded in the ship. "And if their performance is good enough, we can contact them later and have them sign on with a broadcasting deal. Wink, wink, and so on."

He spots a bit of bread and some eggs and proceeds to clump them together and gnaw on it, satisfied at the attention he received.

[CollateralDynamo]

Miami: 1 June 2072, 1815
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
South-West Atlantic: MY Fedallah: Mess Hall

Zalermo was back in his quarters, looking at his own vacant eyes in the mirror. Well, today was...slow. But the Intel class should only be a few more days. And tonight's dinner should be entertaining. It wasn't that Robert didn't like learning. But these Intel classes were more then he could handle. He knew the basics, he was almost positive it would be plenty to get by. But if the UCAS required all of their little "i"s dotted and their little "t"s crossed, whatever. Zalermo would attempt to accommodate. The more hands on activities however were alot of fun. They were strenuous, but they stretched Bobby in a way that he enjoyed, and reminded him about one of the many aspects of the job that he loved.

After some consideration, and another shave, Zalermo put on some fairly nice clothes. A dress shirt and slacks fit comfortably over his Form Fitting Body Armor, and he donned his Aces High jacket. Again he examined the Flying Tigers patch it bore on the shoulder. He couldn't help but draw parallels between himself and the men who had truly been a part of that unit. Much like them he appeared to be getting involved in a war before it was strictly legal. And much like those men, he would be on the front lines. Not to mention the fact that battling Azzies was nearly as just as battling the Axis back in WWII. Then there was the John Wayne factor. If there ever was an adept charmer before the awakening, it would have to have been him.

Zalermo strapped his goggles to his head, but didn't put them over his eyes, leaving them resting on his brow. He looked down at Betsy and again hesitated before putting it away in a hidden drawer. He shouldn't need it tonight...and the Captain had stressed appropriateness. It could be that everyone already knew Betsy was here...but it did seem unlikely.

At the dinner party Zalermo attempted to speak to everyone. For the UCAS crew (especially his assigned target) he attempted to speak about pasts and careers. He even "let slip" that he was a former employee of the Carib. League, but that those days were behind him. He attempted to learn details such as home town, place of education, and time in the force. As well as any place that they had been stationed for any length of time. He did his best to remember all this data and was prepared to write it all down once the event had ended.

When it came to the runner crew, Zalermo was much less prying. He did, however, ask a lot about specialties. He wanted to know what it is his new crew could do. To keep the conversation on the lighter side, he attempted to swap stories with the crew about him. He attempted to keep the conversation light while still expressing to others his experience and commitment to his cause. When an opportunity presented itself he pulled Captain O'Roarke to the side and requested the dossiers that Captain Walker had given her. The files may be classified, but they seemed a valuable resource for any XO to be able to draw upon.

Miami: 8 June 2072, 0645
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
Cape May: MY Fedallah: Meeting Room

Zalermo was still sore all over. The trip had grown long, the intelligence classes arduous, and the physical activity almost more strenuous then he could bear. But throughout it all he had done his best to maintain the poise and attitude he thought one would expect in an XO. They had been called into this meeting to discuss very important details as to their mission.

The group had discussed their covers as well as their funding to some extent, and Iago had already delved into the real meat of the issue, but Bobby decided to speak up from his seat at the edge of the room, "On the aspect of covers, I agree, for the most part with what has already been said. First Cover: we let rich corp kids play Shadow runner. Second Cover: we are recording everything for a reality TV show. Hell, we might even place some vids up on the 'trix so people can figure that one out, heavily implying that we are a subsidiary of Horizon. Third Cover: we are baby sitting these kids for mommy and daddy corp back home. Stopping them from getting into anything too big, and being paid substantially extra to guard them. Fourth Cover: If all else fails we go for broke and claim to be working for the Corporate Court as a bait ship to lure pirates into attacking us, then take them down quickly and quietly. That last cover is far from bulletproof, but if people are really looking into us this deeply, this mission is already FUBARed and we are just looking at damage control. None of these covers link back to the UCAS, all of these covers provide some level of excuse for the illicit goods we have available.

"On the manner of money, a quarter is to be paid to you in order to get us out of debt. After this, a quarter should probably go into a ship fund. This fund used to support one another, cover ship expenses and costs, and anything else required to do a particular job. That said, if you plan to give us specialty jobs that require us to spend vast sums of money...we expect to be appropriately rewarded. We aren't running a charity, but I think we here are all professional enough to understand this. This quarter mentioned will also cover medical bills and possibly even used to cover the cost of lost goods to a damaged party, pending crew approval. The captain and purser at least must agree on an expenditure before it is made. If a quarter plus whatever is remaining in the ship pool is not enough to cover expenses, then we take that out of the remaining half until we HAVE covered costs. Otherwise, the remaining half can then be divvied up amongst the crew evenly. Any objections to this plan?

[Penta]

8 June 2072, 0650 EDT/1050 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[Walker, private mode]

"Speaking for myself and to an extent the Navy," Walker said, "I can agree with what you're saying. Now, we're limited by the money appropriated by Congress, but where you don't have the resources on-hand to do an assigned task, we'll do our best to either get you those resources in a deniable fashion, or get you a pot of money to draw from to equip yourselves. Our choice, usually dependent upon whether the Navy wants to go back to Congress for more cash. Either way, if you indicate you need something, are specific in what you need and why, and give us some time to get it, you'll either get that, or get money to get it with. You might, if all else fails, get the mission scrubbed and be released back to commerce raiding; there are times we'll probably wind up suggesting you guys for a job, then either you or we realize there's no chance you could pull it off, before the mission goes off, but still. We'll try to minimize that, but I will flatly admit: We're...probably going to be experimenting a bit in terms of using you, accounting for you in planning, and so forth, especially at first. There is zero doctrine on using a unit like this, and to be very frank, when we proposed the idea lo those many months ago, I was amazed it got approved, because of that fact. It's like when the submarine or the aircraft carrier was first introduced to the Fleet - back in Washington, I just sort of toss ideas at the strategists and war planners and tacticians who're cleared for the project, and usually get blank looks back in return, because nobody really has any idea what a group like yourselves can do. We guess, we have pretty clear ideas about what we don't want you doing or what we think you can't do...Sort of. Nobody knows if you'll work out; Nobody knows how to use you. We'll be collaborating with you on that process.

"So far as your covers go: They sound decent. I'm going to admit my nervousness about you all going on camera at all, but if you think you can handle the identity concealment issues, then go for it. Your level four cover scares me, but if you ever use that, I agree, the situation is way past FUBAR. I'll rustle up some contacts the Navy has in the New York trid industry from all those trid shows about us; they might be interested in competing for your footage. Other than that, I'll leave it to you. One thing the Navy will provide? Help getting those first clients for your first-level cover. Though how you'll integrate that with your actual duties, I leave to you."

[CollateralDynamo]

Miami: 8 June 2072, 0645
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
Cape May: MY Fedallah: Meeting Room

"That reminds me captain, about this first job of ours. Now seems like as good a time as any to tell us about this vessel and the specifics of our mission. Including, if possible, its coordinates, known crew and security, and what you want done with anything retrieved from said vessel. Also, what is the time frame for this mission? When will it be relieving itself of your true target? If our first mission is going to be out nabbing another ship or its goods, we should likely arrange for our first passenger to come aboard after we have accomplished this. For instance, if the ship we are looking for is off the CAS coast, we could pick up someone afterward at a Miami port as we would have hit our target on the way there...just a thought.

[Penta]

8 June 2072, 0650 EDT/1050 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[Walker, private mode]

"You're going to start to hate me when I say this, but...We don't know much. We suspect a lot, but we don't know much," Walker said. "Commander Roberts, you've been more involved with tracking Chantico's Bounty this week than I have, any details you can give?"

Roberts nodded. "Aye, Captain. Chantico's Bounty is a 134-meter freighter registered to a subsidiary of a company controlled by the Aztlan State, through a horde of shell companies. It's your average container ship...What's key is what's in those containers. We're not especially sure. She's sailing on an Africa-Aztlan route, uniquely not in convoys, so she's either carrying something very spooky, very unique, very perishable...Or very, very illegal. Our running guess is that, given she was coming from Nigeria, she may be carrying slaves. For what purpose in Aztlan is something we're very interested in finding out. Could as easily be for human sacrifice as sex or wage slavery. Your mission is a simple one: Find that ship - we do know that she's scheduled to dock in Veracruz in about three weeks - intercept her, ascertain the nature of her cargo after capture."

"If our worst fears are realized and it is slaves they're carrying, you will contact me immediately. Emphasis on the immediately," Walker said. "I will then begin the process to direct you and your prize ship to a friendly port where the ex-slaves can be cared for. We will then officially condemn the ship as a slaver, deal with the crew according to law, and proceed according to admiralty law. Chances are, the ship will be sold and you'll be credited with a portion of the value at auction as forgiveness on your loan - not enough to pay the whole thing off, Chantico's Bounty is a thirty-year-old ship, but it'd put a good dent in the principal. If it isn't sold, and is instead taken up by the government, you'll be credited a portion of the fair market value up to two hundred thousand nuyen. Until you reach port with any slaves, you guys will be expected to care for them, and the ship's crew who'll be your prisoners, humanely. If, along the way, you can get people to talk and figure out what the slaves were meant for, we'll pay easily fifty-thousand nuyen per crewmember for statements gathered such that they're admissible in court. No, you won't be required to testify - DOJ will handle any information you gather as though it were gathered from intelligence sources for purposes of criminal procedure. I or Commander Roberts will be the one appearing in court. Zalermo, that does mean you're going to want to treat this like any other case you may have done for previous employers. The idea here is to turn the crew to finger the next level up, but if we can't do that, we will gladly try the crew on applicable charges.

"If it's not slaves, you'll be allowed to capture the ship and fence it and the cargo however you like. If it's a mixed cargo, well, we'll take the slaves and the ship off your hands, and let you fence the cargo however you will. We'll figure out a way to explain its absence to the judge, probably the manifest will be falsified by the crew anyway, so hopefully we won't have to lie and risk the case.

"With that brief introduction to your mission, I do promise that we'll forward tear-sheeted intel take on the ship, as we get it, but I don't think we're gonna get much, given that she set sail a week ago.

"Moving on, some quick rules of engagement:

"First off, you are to capture the crew alive if at all possible, so that they may be tried before a jury in a federal district court. Related to that, you do not dare use torture to gather information from said crew - even if you may want to. Don't even use spells. Either method gets the evidence suppressed in court. DOJ is salivating over the chance to roast the Azzies for slavery, and they want a conviction that survives the appeals process.

"Secondly, if they are indeed holding slaves: Separate them. Separate the crew from the slaves, separate male from female, and try to separate kids from adults. Prevents bad things from happening.

"Thirdly: Do try not to sink the ship. Even accidentally. As SECNAV - who happens to be the descendant of slaves, and is taking a personal interest in the case, put it to me: 'We want the damn ship presentable, to be able to go 'Nyah nyah' to the Azzies.' Rather immature of him, I think, but I agree with the underlying sentiment," Walker chuckled.

"Fourth: Record all interrogations and encounters with the crew and the slaves. Don't do stuff alone, that's a quick route to being accused of misconduct. Two people for any dealings if at all possible."

"Fifth: Before any interrogations...It isn't required by our lawyers, because you aren't technically 'state agents'...But it is strongly recommended that you Mirandize your suspects. If they lawyer up, they go to wherever you're holding em and are left undisturbed until they reach port."

"That ends your ROE for this mission. If you find any targets of opportunity and have the crew and resources to grab erm? Go ahead, so long as their flag state is on the cleared targets list that was with your orders.

"Final details: Comms. You guys will get encryption chips and authenticators from Commander Roberts. These are to be stored in the provided safe on the bridge. Two people keep 'eyes on' the crypto at all times when it is out of the safe, from the moment the safe is opened to the moment it is closed again. If it is compromised, contact us through a provided matrix dropbox ASAP. You'll often communicate with us through encrypted messages sent through matrix dropboxes. You'll get messages back from us that include authentication codes - if they don't, it's fake, and should be ignored. Real-time comms are possible, through certain commcodes we will give. I expect these to be encrypted. Contact me on an unsecure channel, and I dun know you.

"We will also be providing you with a cipher. It'll be in Greek - George, we gave you a Bible in part for the icon corner, in part for the cipher. Don't lose it."

"Any questions?"

[Whizbang]

8 June 2072, 0650 EDT/1050 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
Melisandre the Red

"Yeah, it shouldn't be too hard to leak a little here and there." Melisandre agreed. She liked the whole media idea. And the prospective of playing games with the upper class.

She listened somberly as Commander Roberts read off the list of what they knew about the Chantico, and what they wanted of it. After he was done, she decided it was time to share the research she had been running in her spare time. "The Chantico's captain is one Juan Vallejo de Portanares. He's an Aztlaner dwarf who works for the owning company. The Chantico was built in 2042 in Aztlan, and ran the North Atlantic routes until the Crash 2.0, when she moved to the Aztlan-Africa route. They tend to go mostly to Sekondi and Veracruz. Sometimes Lagos. They've been to Monroeville a time or two, but that's been at least 5 years since the last visit. Harbor observers say they tend to go straight shot unless they need to duck out of weather or such. For their size, they'll have to go by the Florida Straights. Do you have schematics for the ship, or do I still need to go pick those up?" Melisandre inquired. It was on her list now that classes were over and she had the time to do indepth digging

[Penta]

8 June 2072, 0652 EDT/1052 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[LCDR Kevin Roberts, private mode]

"My fault," Roberts said. "We do, I just forgot to mention them. Apologies." A second later, everyone's commlink beeps. "Schematics for the general class of ship. We couldn't get precise schematics and specs on the Chantico's Bounty, despite trying, without risking tipping our hand as to our interest in the ship. We want to catch the Azzies red-handed if they are in fact trafficking slaves, so that was ruled unwise. She may be modified from the specs and plans we have for the class - we simply don't know. They only use native-born Aztlaner crews for ships like Chantico's Bounty, so we've no chance of getting an asset on the inside.

"One supposition ONI is making, supported by CIA and DIA: The crew complement listed only accounts for ship's company. Not for any embarked security detail. If they're carrying slaves, I'm willing to bet they're carrying a security detail to control said slaves...And to keep the ship's crew from them. And, for that matter, to keep each other from them."

[Marwynn]

8 June 2072, 0652 EDT/1052 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[Jonas, Private]

"Any history of magical support? Bound 'corporate' spirits, tamed paracritters and the like?" Jonas asked softly as he sifted through the schematics newly downloaded to his 'link. He nods briefly to Melissandre for acquiring the background info, impressed at the speed of delivery. "I only ask because I do have some experience in astral recon, we can get a general idea of the numbers even with an elemental to scout for us. Astrally, of course. Don't want to risk any spells or forays, it may tip our hand."

Staring at the walls of the schematic, the hull, Jonas corrected, he paused briefly before uttering. "Biofibers. Living walls. Relatively easy to use considering the benefit of being shielded astrally. Well okay, not that easy. If I were shipping slaves that'd glow like a bonfire in the astral I'd want a way to hide them from passersby. And a big enough magical stick to wave them away."

[Penta]

8 June 2072, 0655 EDT/1055 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[LCDR Kevin Roberts, private mode]

"We have no idea re magical support - though you're right, that does seem likely given the possible cargo," Roberts replied. "I'm not going to say presume blood mages or anything, this feels like a small piece of the overall slave-trade operation, but presuming some form of magical support seems like a good idea. We've considered the biofiber - It's possible, definitely possible, but I'd need to check with some of our magical security types to see how well it holds up to seawater and related environmental factors."

[CollateralDynamo]

Miami: 8 June 2072, 0659 EDT
[Robert "Zalermo" Bennicimo as Willard Dermott, PI - Hidden]
Off Cape May: MY Fedallah: Meeting Room

We don't know what its carrying. We don't know its security. We don't know how its laid out, beautiful. At least that Melisandre seems like she knows what she is doing. She too young for a twenty-nine year old like you, Bobs? Zalermo shook his head and tried to keep focused on the matter at hand.

"This is good information sirs. Just to clarify, you will only be helping us in fencing the vessel if it is trafficking humans? Only in that event do you plan to step in and take action against the crew and legal owners? Otherwise it is ours to do with as we see fit? In the off-chance of it transporting other cargo, what do you want to see done with the crew and security? Clearly we won't want them dead, but we can't exactly get chummy with them after taking the boat. Should we look into mind wipe gear?" At that question Zalermo turned to look at the resident mage. Weird mojo it is, messing with a man's mind. But if any of the crew here were likely able to do it it would be that loudmouthed mage.

[Marwynn]

8 June 2072, 0656 EDT/1052 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[Jonas, Private]

"Seawater would wreak havoc, I'd imagine. But in containers or holding cells and not right up against the hull it could be alright." Jonas breathes in and sips his newly steeped tea.

"Ahh if only I'd learned 'Mana Static' from that lady with the zombie..." Clearing his throat he looked around and explained further. "A sufficiently high force Mana Static spell can create an immediate background count that'll disrupt many magical defenses and spirits. Cast just ahead of it, assuming no one's paying too much astral attention, and they can have anywhere from 5-20 seconds before passing through it. Biofiber walls would die, if any, wards and barriers would be weakened or destroyed, all but the strongest spirits would be forced back into the astral and the rest would be weakened. Strike immediately after that, hopefully once they're past, and we have a great window."

"The trick is, of course, the surprise bit. We'd be relying on them to sail through the area, a relatively small area at that. Say a sphere with a ten metre diameter... Visiting my folks could wait if I could learn this. But we have all of a day and not enough prep." Sipping from the steaming cup he glances up. "And we're not even sure if it'd be necessary at this point."

[Penta]

8 June 2072, 0655 EDT/1055 Zulu: MY Fedallah: Off Cape May, NJ
[LCDR Kevin Roberts, private mode]

"If it's transporting human cargo, yes, we'll be helping to deal with it...Because yes, in that case we plan on prosecutions against at least the crew, possibly the owners," Walker replied. "On the off chance it's other cargo, we don't care what you do, or even if the crew winds up dead. But if it's slaves, we want to be able to prosecute for slave trade. If it's other cargo than slaves, do as you wish, just don't cause problems for us."