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AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-23-2015
Phileas Fogg was by all rights a gentleman. While there was much to be speculated about his character and motives, he was a gentleman nonetheless. His attire - some would say - was perculiar for the times. It was as black and white as his character and comprised of a traditional three piece suit, shined oxford style shoes and bizzarely a top hat which he wore proudly on his frequent outings to the reform club. Phileas Fogg lived in a refubised pioneer colonist's villa a ways south of the primary space port on Erie. He was - by all accounts - a man of wealth. Although not even his closest associates at the reform club could speculate as to how he had ascertained his fortune. It was evident however that Mr Fogg was duly enjoying the fruits of his success. He was precise in all things and was an immaculate time-keeper. Amasingly he would seem to arrive to any occassion or means precisely on time and it would seem to be to his own benefit alone. It was at this time on the 12th of April at 8:00 in the morning Phileas Fogg entered to reform club.
The reform club itself was an extension of the Bretonian consulate on Erie and served to accommodate the leisures of upper class businessmen visiting the colony. The interior had particularly rustic decor typical of Bretonian nostalgic interior design where put quite simply everything was made of polished Oak, Cedar or Mahogany. Strewn around it's chambers were armchairs and low-tables where gatherings of elderly men sat reading, quarrelling, drinking and engaging in minor bets with each other over table-top games and cards.
Phileas Fogg strolled toward his usual spot in an armchair near the grand western window that gazed out on the spaceport proper. He settled down greeting his fellow gentlemen he regularly came to socialise with. Opposite him reading a paper sat Archibald Mortimer; the Bretonian embassador to planet Erie. Next to him sat the Morgam brothers who frequented the club on their business voyages from New London. Together they owned Morgam & Sons Freight Ltd. which had made them both considerably wealthy due to the company's recent success. Opposite them was Lars Mendelson, a local helium mining business owner. Finally next to him sat Malcolm Baxter, a Libertonian representative at the consulate.
"It looks like the Rheinland Military are trying to open up passage to the Omicrons" said Malcolm
"They've been stationing heavy cruisers all along that route for years. They've tried to keep the route exclusive to Rheinland firms until now." added Lars
"Well regardless, it used to take three days to make that journey from Berlin through the Omegas, now we can do it in twelve hours."
"Eight" stated Fogg
"Pardon that sir?"
"Eight. By my calculations you could do it in eight."
"And how do you figure?"
Phileas Fogg passed to Malcolm the copy of Scott's bi-annual cosmic almanac he was reading moments ago.
"Instead of Stuttgart go by Dresden.
Berlin to Dresden - Half an hour.
On to Leipzig and through the nearby Omega 11 Jump Hole - Two hours.
From there to the the Omega 41 Jump Hole - Three Hours.
Through and then on to the nearby Omicron Theta Jump hole - one hour.
Then on to Freeport 9 - One and a half hours.
In total - precisely eight hours."
"You are right in that sir." retorted Malcolm
"Although by that route you will surely encounter Hessian pirates before you so much as near the edge of Rehinland space"
Not to mention the radiation exposure in Omega 11 noted one of the Morgams
..And Omega 41 added the other
They all stared at Fogg for a moment anticipating a response.
"Well, when one is in a hurry..."
They all nodded in agreement.
"Well anyway there are many shortcuts through all areas of the sector waiting to be exploited I suppose."
"All swarming with pirates hah" the second brother blurted.
"Well did you know there's an old rusting jump gate to New York in Magellan? Can you imagine the money we could make if we got that thing up and running again?"
"Well I guess there's no telling what hidden ways are out there these days."
"God knows I'd pay a fortune to know"
"Here, here" added Mortimer
"How much?" said Phileas with a gleam in his eye.
"I beg your pardon?"
"How much would you pay Mr Morgam?"
"Well... For a bounty of navigational data of the known universe... 40 million credits.
"As would I"
"Here, here" added Mortimer
The group became unsettled as it sunk in how Fogg had queried them in such a direct tone. Phileas looked over to the second Morgam brother who nodded, and then to Malcolm who looked up from the almanac he was still looking over.
"Well, Hell, with the right information, anyone can make a fortune."
"Although, time is never on your side in such matters. Say one could obtain such navigational data. What use would it be in three months when the next issue of this almanac is released and the data is made universally available."
"True. As soon as that issue is released. Competetors, pirates and undesirables of all sorts will flood to any new havens like flies on.... well, you get the picture."
"Regardless my dear gentlemen. I do believe one can accomplish a tour of all systems in the sector prior to that date."
The two Morgam brothers guffawed at this notion while Malcolm and Lars seemed taken aback. Mortimer looked up from his paper momentarily before allowing a small grin and a disbelieving nod.
"You do realise there are believed to be 150 confirmed accessable star systems at present."
"I do"
"Surely you cannot be serious."
"I assure you Mr Baxter that I am quite serious about such things."
Malcolm was taken aback further by this comment and sat stirring in his chair.
Phileas Fogg stood to adress his associates.
"Gentlemen, I would like to propose a wager."
"I will make this tour of the sector and shal do so prior to the debut of the next edition of the Scott's bi-annual cosmic almanac on the 1st July; precisely 80 days from today. I wager a sum of 200 million credits that I shal visit all 150 systems in the alotted time and before arriving back here before this hour of the 1st to relay my findings to you gentlemen."
"What say you?"
For the first time Archibald Mortimer lowered his paper, folded it and placed it on the table at his side. He ushered the other four men closer to confer with him. Meanwhile Fogg stood as a statue, proud and resilient despite the resounding silence that now echoed through the reform club. Finally the five men turned to him.
"We accept your wager Mr Fogg"
"Excellent! Then we shal draw up a contract to cement this bet and I shal place 200 million credits in a trust fund at the local Interspace branch for you to access should I not return on the 1st."
And so for the next twenty minutes they drew up a contract with a bystanding member of the reform club who happened to be an attourney. Prior to signing the contract the lawyer asked but one question;
"From what time today shal will this contract be made valid?"
"Why 9am, for that is the time the almanac is released to the public on the 1st."
The attourney finished his amendments to the contract before handing it to each of the party who signed it one by one. As Phileas Fogg placed his pen to paper he noticed the clock had just struck 9:00am. The five men looked to him as he casually signed the contract and retreated to his seat where he retrieved the Scott's almanac and continued to read.
"What are you doing? Aren't you worried you're wasting time?"
"Not at all Mr Baxter, for my valet at this very moment is purchasing a vessel on which we are to embark on our journey."
"As you are all likely aware it takes approximately 45 minutes to transfer ship ownership and confirm a purchase."
All the men sat back dumbstruck at the man whom they could not decipher as overconfident, cool headed or just plain stupid. So for the next 45 minutes they sat in silence as Fogg continued to read his almanac and the others commenced a game of whist quietly but ever with an eye on the clock.
At 9:50 a small electronic device in Phileas Fogg's pocket beeped and he arose to address the men in front of him.
"Well gentlemen, I bid you farewell and I shal return to you before the 1st."
With that he picked up his hat from an nearby stand and strided out the door. All the men sat back as though relieved from a rather intense scolding.
"Well that fellow really is quite perculiar isn't he?" commented Lars
"Here, here"
Up Up and Away - Ash - 04-23-2015
Passepartout was pressing some of his master's laundry when he recieved a message on his little device he'd come to call the beeper. It had an incessant tendancy to beep until it was deactivated making it impossible to ignore. It was of course the main line of communication between him and his master while he was away and he recieved many instructions through it. Although the message he recieved at this time was quite unorthodox, the instructions were quite clear.
Scrolling across the screen from right to left it read:
GO TO SPACE PORT. PURCHASE A NIMBLE VESSEL AT ONCE. TRANSFERRED FUNDS TO YOUR PERSONAL ACCOUNT. RESPOND WHEN DONE. ~FOGG
Without hesitation Passepartout grabbed his coat and hailed a cab to the center of the space port. He could not fathom the intentions of his master, but then he had not understood much of his intentions in the one day under his employ. Bizarrely his master had indeed placed a sum of $100,000 credits into his personal account which he found incredibly trusting of him considering their meeting not 24 hours ago. In the ride to the space port he pondered.
Passepartout was a humble character. He was quite bumbling, upresuming of the extraordinary and almost naiive in some ways. Short, stout and round faced with an orderly haircut and household servant's attire. He was French, as the name would suggest; an escapee of the conflict in the Taus in search of a quieter life free of the politics of his war-torn nation. He had entered the service of Phileas Fogg not long after arriving on Erie. It was odd to see an advertisment for a valet position outside of Gallia as household servants had not been cultural of many of the sirian houses' high society for many hundreds of years. Jumping at an opportunity to continue on in his chosen profession he applied, and hours later he was fetching Mr Fogg's provisions for the following week.
Once at the space port Passepartout began to search for a ship dealer of which there were few. His eye was taken by a premium vessel dealership off the central plaza. As he strolled in he was bombarded by automated adverts and holograms displaying sheek new models of civilian class vessels available on discount, finance and any other offer you can think of. A shiny, plastic-looking gentleman approached him almost yelling above the racket:
"What are you looking to fly sir!?"
"Can you turn it down!?"
The adverts dimmed and the volume reduced a little. Passepartout progressed to relay to the fellow what his master desired: "A nimble vessel". And while it wasn't much to go on it gave much room for diversity of choice. Passepartout paid $50,000 up front for a freighter class vessel the dealer described as 'agile' and informed his master of the purchase.
Minutes later a cab pulled up outside the dealership and Fogg stepped out before marching in.
"I shal need to have this vessel moved to the landing pad and prepaired for departure immediately."
"But master where are you going?"
"We are going to traverse the sector."
"'We'?.... But I haven't packed anything yet!
"Worry not Passepartout for we shal purchase what we need along the way. Now let us be off."
And so Philease Fogg followed the vessel as it was transported to the landing pad outside with Passepartout bumbling behind. Moments later they clambered into their humble ship and were up and headed to the stars.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-23-2015
"So where to Mr Fogg?"
Passepartout had taken to the pilot's seat, as a valet should in these modern times. He had had plenty of experience in his younger years as a shuttle pilot for a publicly funded firm shuttling gallic aristocrats between stations and planets throughout the empire. He felt a sense of nostalgie settling into the pilot's seat but had little time revel as his master's voice spoke from over his shoulder.
"Make for the meadville field."
"Not to the New York gate sir?"
Fogg retreated into the hold and Passepartout punched in the coordinates. Static energy rose inside the hold as the core charged the cruise engines and they lurched forward as the burners kicked in. To Passepartout this meant being pulled back and embraced by his alrady comfortably cushioned chair. To Mr Fogg this meant being hurled through the hold head over heels and landing looking quite unorchestrated. Passepartout ran to the aid of his master who waved him off before composing himself.
"Quite unsettling this flying business isn't it?"
"You mean to say monseur that you have never flown before!?"
"Not in a vessel such as this, i have not."
Passepartout could not believe the sheer irregularity of his master, but continued to attend the controls and stay their course to the field.
"We shal arrive within the hour monseur.""
Fogg nodded and retreated into the hold.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-23-2015
The distance around the Pennsylvania sun was closed relatively quickly and before long Phileas Fogg emerged from the hold. He pointed through the main window past a large asteroid in the distance.
"Take us there."
Passpartout turned the vessel and swerved between the asteroids skillfully. Before long a small ring appeared in the distance and the gravitational readers began to spike.
"A Jump Hole monseur?"
"Indeed"
"There are many warnings monseur, they are said to be dangerous. I have never traversed one."
"Nor have I"
Fogg gripped Passepartout's shoulder in reassurance.
"Take us in"
This time Fogg strapped himself into the co-pilot's seat rather securely before composing himself once more and ensuring his safety harness wasn't crumpling his attire. Passepartout unnervingly pushed the flight stick down and they were sucked into the hole.
The vessel tumbled and rocked, juddered and shook. The hull moaned under the stress of the warp fields around them. Then they were coughed out the other side into blackness. The window was completely blacked out but the ship continued to tumble.
"Are we still travelling through?"
"I don't think so. We need to steady the ship."
At that moment a massive clang came from the rear of the vessel and they were thrown into a spin. Passepartout jumped to regain control and the peripheral thrusters brought them to a full stop.
"Where are we?"
Passepartout brought up the star charts.
"Texas"
Then hazard lights flooded the cockpit with yellow and a small alarm came from a console across the cockpit. Fogg turned to address what was making the aggrivating sound.
"It would seem we have been deposited into a dark matter cloud"
"Argh putin!" murmered passepartout as he brought his hands back to the controls.
The engines sprung into life once again and they were off. Passepartout carefully controlling the ship's movements while arcing his neck to observe the gravitational readings panel so as to navigate through the debris. Before long they had emerged from the field and the cockpit was flooded with light from the texas sun. Phileas Fogg seemed indifferent toward the drama of it all and merely noted something down in his pocket book before turning to passepartout.
"Now on to Houston passepartout, we are to head to the Minnesota gate"
"Indeed monseur Fogg"
And the little vessel flew onwards.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-23-2015
"There is the Minnesota gate monseur, shal I take us in?"
The arid world of Houston had drifted by minutes before and the ship was rapidly approaching the recently completed jump gate. Minnesota had become a hive of commerce in Liberty despite existing primarily within an enormous ice nebula. So this sole gateway to the home system of the trading giant Universal was somewhat congested at the best of times. Fortunately however fate had smiled on the venturing duo as the gate was mostly serving smaller vessels upon their arrival.
Phileas Fogg nodded to his valet to proceed once the last of the freighters had passed through. The ride was much smoother than their first interstellar voyage, although Phileas Fogg remained somewhat unsettled regardless upon their arrival.
Moorhead station was bustling with activity above them with countless transports lined up and destined for all four corners of the sector. Though there was no time to linger as their voyage took priority above all. Passepartout began to direct the vessel toward the now widely known New Hampshire jump hole when Fogg interjected:
"No passepartout, we are taking a slight detour"
"Detour monsieur? But where?"
"We are going to Virginia"
Passepartout almost swung the ship into a violent spin as he jumped at this proposterous idea.
"Surely not monsieur! We will be shot! It is restricted... It's... It's very illegal!"
"I have made a hefty wager passepartout, to visit every one of the 150 star systems listed in Scott's cosmic almanac. Every system passepartout. Do you understand?
A moment of tension rose.
"Bah oui monsieur Fogg but how do you propose we accomplish such a feat? We will surely be caught."
A moment passed and Phileas Fogg reclined into his chair pensive.
"There..." said Fogg pointing at a passing Navy convoy.
"Passepartout, bring us about."
The humble valet jumped to his orders and swung the ship around.
"Bring us up behind that transport"
The pilot did as he was told and they began to tail the unsuspecting ship deep into the Lamberton ice field. Neither man said a word as they approached the jump gate, encased in an active minefield no less. One by one the convoy ships passed through the gate. The transport ahead of them was next to proceed and soon disappeared into the warped tunned of the gate. Tension could not have been higher in the small cockpit of Phileas Fogg and his valet as they approached the gate and commenced the docking procedure. For a split second the comms radio lit up and a loud voice uttering something incomprehensible came through before it was drowned out by the rushing sound of warp speed.
Upon arrival into Virginia the vessels of the convoy that had preceded them were now turned to face the new arrival.
"Passepartout..."
Barrages of missiles and torpedos were unleashed and rapidly heading toward them.
"Back through! Quickly!
The eager pilot swung the ship around with expert precision and re-engaged the docking procedure.
"Come on..." - the only words muttered by Fogg as the missiles closed to two hundred meters. The ship began down it's entry trajectory.
ONE HUNDRED METERS TO IMPACT
On the brink of entry now...
FIFTY METERS TO IMPACT
And they were snatched out of harms way and back through the gate toward Minnesota. As the ship rolled and rattled passepartout cried:
"What do we do when we get back!?
The thought had not crossed Phileas Fogg's mind that there would be countless Liberty ships awaiting their arrival and eager to give them another not-so-warm welcoming.
"Run!" exclaimed Fogg.
Passepartout took hold of the controls, ready to meet whatever would greet them on the other side. They emerged back into Minnesota to the sight of a Liberty Battlecruiser and it's attack group bearing down on them. The way out of the minefield was clearly hopeless. Fogg turned to his valet, looking for the first time concerned.
"Passepartout... I..."
Fogg seemed lost for words moments from obliteration. Passepartout saw the hope lost in his eyes.
"Non!"
Passepartout swung the ship around and engaged the cruise engines which were immediately disrupted by a hi-speed navy missile. Instead he engaged the thrusters at maximum capacity and headed toward the minefield.
"Hold on!"
The Navy pilots had caught up to them now and were firing on their rear engines. The shots were excellently evaded by passepartout's piloting but the occasional shot scathed them.
"Monsieur Fogg, I must ask that you hold down that lever when I say if we are to escape."
Fogg took a moment to locate the switch he had mentioned before nodding to his valet that he had understood. Passepartout stared into the minefield ahead with an almost obsessional gaze now.
"Où est-il... Où est-il maintenant..." he muttered.
They were rapidly approaching the live mines now which unnerved the apparently suicidal valet's master.
"AHAH!
Passepartout straightened the ships course now, taking several shots to the aft hull as a result.
"NOW MONSIEUR!"
Fogg pulled the lever and the ship's core hummed. It resonated the entire ship and through the two men's bones. The ship plunged into the mine field and explosions erupted all around them. Fogg was hurled from his seat and passepartout thrown to each side of his. Seconds later they erupted from the field into the empty space beyond. The ship drifted some ways while the men came to terms with what had happened.
Passepartout pulled himself up from the floor he had fallen to in the last violent jolt and observed the control panels.
"HOURRA!" he yelled as he punched the air!
"But we must move quickly. They will likely be looking for us."
Fogg slowly pulled himself back onto his chair looking more than a bit ruffled.
"Something tells me passepartout... That you are not a valet as you have so claimed to be."
"My deepest apologies monsieur. I picked up that trick from an old friend who flew for the resistance in Gallia."
"They say it's how they first managed to break through to the rest of Sirius"
Fogg waved away passepartout's attempts to aid him to his feet and he composed himself again.
"It would seem they weren't lying. But shal we get on.."
Passepartout nodded and assumed his position in the pilot's seat once more.
"You may take us to New Hampshire now passepartout."
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-23-2015
The journey to the New Hampshire hole was uneventful but quick. Fogg had instructed his valet to fuel the power core at full tilt so as to outrun any persuers after their recent endeavour. The ship was somewhat battered but not crippled after their narrow escape from the navy and the short detour would surely cost them upon their return to Liberty.
"What exactly did that lever do passepartout?" queried Fogg.
"It diverted all auxiliary power to the shields and thrusters monseur. We traversed a thinner part of the mine field and the boost you gave to our shields kept us safe from the brunt of the explosions."
"Indeed..." said Fogg emotionless.
"Although I would much appreciate avoiding such extreme measures for the rest of our voyage."
Passepartout deflated.
"Of course monseur."
"But my thanks passepartout."
Passepartout knew not to ponder on the matter and instead changed the topic.
"So are we headed to Rheinland monseur?"
"I had intended on visiting Bering and Hudson once we are done here but in light of our recent mishap I would say it is best we follow your exact suggestion. Wouldn't you say Passepartout?"
"Yes indeed monseur."
And so the little vessel pressed on through Minnesota without incident and was soon in the highly contested system of New Hampshire. Passepartout thought it a shame for such a beautiful system of colourful planets and nebulae to be scorched by war. But still there was little time to revel as the duo had all too soon found trouble. As they pressed toward Rheinland they were intercepted by a lone vessel, a one ex-detective Fix. Surprisingly the detective had chosen to persue Mr Fogg and Passepartout alone in the hopes to claim - what the pair were soon to discover - the generous bounty that had been placed on their vessel. The master and servant had traversed but half of their journey across new hampshire when Mr Fix chose to make himself known.
"Hold it right there gentlemen"
The voice of Phileas Fogg broadcasted through the local channel.
"Our sincerest apologies my good man, i'm afraid we are to keep a tight schedule."
The pair flew on.
"I said stop!"
A cruise disrupter drained the power from their engines and the pair were suddenly brought to a full stop.
"The audacity!" exclaimed passepartout.
"Now I heard you boys got into a bit of trouble in Minnesota. Caused up quite a ruckus."
"And you would know this how Mr..."
"Fix, its just Fix."
"It seems the Navy is pretty sore about something. Sore enough to pay out nicely to whoever brings you in. So i'm sorry gentlemen, you're going to have to come with me."
Fogg turned to passepartout.
"When I signal, i highly recommend you do whatever you can to remove us from this troublesome predicament passepartout"
Passepartout nodded before watching Mr Fogg retreat into the hold with a remote radio.
"Mr Fix, I offer to compensate you handsomely for your time should you allow us to continue our endeavour without delay."
"As handsome as 10 million credits? Because my time is really quite expensive when engaged by the proper motivation."
"If you observe you will see a large sum of credit chips being jettisoned from our cargo bay now. You may retrieve the packet and inform us if you believe the contents are adequate to allow us passage."
"You best not be playing with me now."
"My good sir, I enjoy many pastimes, but 'playing' as i'm sure you are well aware, is for children."
With that the ship shuddered as a packet was indeed jettisoned from the airlock. Passepartout looked down to his beeper which had gone off not a moment later. It read:
SHAL WE BE OFF?
Passepartout engaged the cruise engines and was way out of range by the time the detective had realised the packet was nothing but a bag with a pillow in it. Of course he gave chase but soon gave up as he saw a Rheinland patrol heading to intercept them. The Rheinlanders were not fond of Libertonians and it was likely they welcomed fugitives of liberty much less. Fogg ordered the course of his vessel altered to avoid the Rheinlanders but they flying too slow a vessel to outrun them on a straight such as this. With their advanced engine technology it would only be a matter of time before they caught up.
"Take us into that asteroid field" he commanded and his loyal servant obliged.
Upon entering the field the gravitational console spiked and surely enough in the distance was a jump hole. Passepartout looked to his master in question and Fogg nodded in reply. The ship altered course for the hole and with the Rheinlanders moments away there was little time to flee. Into the hole they went and as before they were hurled around the cockpit rather violently.
The ship emerged into a dark and murky nebula with no notable features to give any indication as to where they were.
"Is this going to happen every time we use a jump hole monseur?"
Phileas Fogg did not respond but instead looked around at the scenery beyond the window ahead of them as though looking around a hotel room upon first inspection.
"We should keep moving encase they follow us through."
Fogg nodded and they set out blindly into the nebula in search of a way onward.
For hours the two of them wandered in silence, searching for hints of civilisation or a means to progress. After a number of hours Fogg turned to his valet and said:
"I think we've lost them. I do say we should return to our original itinerary don't you?"
Passepartout was quite taken aback by this, but directed the vessel back to New Hampshire forthwith.
Despite the rough transition through the jump hole it had seemed the Rheinlanders had given up chase long before their ventures into the system they were later to identify as Ellesmere. The pair pressed on to the jump hole to Bremen having lost nearly six hours in their unexpected detour. Phileas Fogg looked at his watch somewhat disgruntled and made another note in his pocket book.
The trip across Bremen was uneventful and almost blissful had it not been for a minor coolant leak that had broken out during their jump into the system. Both men agreed they would travel to Hamburg to patch the ship before pressing on with their adventures in Rheinland. Passepartout was glad to have his feet on solid ground after all the drama they had incurred in space. It was determined the ship would take at least 8 hours to bring back to full functionality which allowed for a bit of well deserved rest for passepartout and his stern employer.
"We have 150 systems to reach in 80 days or 1920 hours passepartout. This gives us an allowance of 12 hours and 48 minutes in each system. It has been 17 hours and 16 minutes since my departure and we have visited 6 of the 150 systems so far."
"Bah fantastique! Then we are well ahead of time monseur!"
"Indeed. However we must try to avoid spending time stationary. My calculation does not compensate for time spent idle while our vessel is fixed."
"Then we must try and rest on the move monseur."
"Perhaps. For now I would suggest that you try to find means through which we may progress rapidly."
And so the bumbling valet strolled off down the promenades of Hamburg's capitol in search of ways to further his master's cause.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-24-2015
"So passepartout, what have you learned?"
It was morning. Passepartout had spent the night touring pilot lounges and bars hoping to gain some golden nugget of information that would garuntee their success in this leg. Sadly, this had not been the case, and now a rather disgruntled and rough looking passepartout stood before his master ready, but not eager to depart.
"I could find little additional information of ways onwards monseur. But we can still head towards Berlin."
"On the contrary passepartout. It seems we shal go to Bering and Hudson after all."
Passepartout seemed cautious but curious about this sudden change of heart.
"It will be a risk monseur, after Virginia..."
"Nevertheless, we shal proceed. We depart immediately."
The pair clambered into the scarred but sturdy vessel once more and were off soon after. Once in space, passepartout turned the ship toward the Bering gate but Fogg interrupted him.
"I want you to take the vessel to the center of the Nordheide field."
Passepartout agreed to carry out this command but naturally questioned why they were headed there.
"Our hotelier on Hamburg assured me there is a trio of jump holes linking Bering, Hudson and Hamburg that are all in close proximity of each other."
"Killing two birds with one stone then..."
"Indeed"
As they pressed onward through the field they came in sight of two jump holes. Comparative stats indicated one hole headed to Hudson and the other to Bering.
"Take your pick monseur."
"To Bering, but once we are through move to the following coordinates posthaste."
Fogg handed passepartout the coordinates before nodding him to press onward into the jump hole. Bering was much like the Nordheide field itself, just on a larger scale. For a system with so many objects floating freely it was by far the most unremarkable. Both men seemed eager to make their passing through this system as brief as possible.
At that moment a photon blast flew over the ships bow and passepartout jumped into a panic.
"Settle down passepartout. Compose yourself."
It had originated from a larger than average asteroid on the portside. Pacifica base was home to the Unioners in the border worlds. While being political radicalists they had less of a reason to kill civilians than your average outlaws. Phileas Fogg understood this close call to be a simple territorial display. Information he relayed to passepartout who remained on edge regardless.
"Onward"
They reached the jump hole to Hudson before long and from there passepartout was handed a second set of coordinates from his master. They then proceeded back to Hamburg without so much as a hint of adversity. All in all it had taken them three hours for this round trip to the borderworlds which had ultimately gained them over 22 hours in total. A figure Phileas Fogg noted in his pocket book with a slight smile.
"Our next destination is Berlin"
Passepartout's eyes lit up at this prospect of once again being on solid ground. A second chance for a good night sleep it seemed. Although this idea was thwarted completely by the next few words to be uttered by Phileas Fogg:
"Via the scenic route"
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-25-2015
“To the Alsterfield passepartout. We are to travel through Duesseldorf.”
Passepartout seemed rather unsettled by this idea.
“Monsieur, the radicals in Bering weren’t very happy to see us. Perhaps it is best not to aggravate them further?”
Fogg ignored this objection and simply waited for his servant to alter course. The ship shuddered and they were away once more. The voyage to the Alsterfield took half an hour and Passepartout was soon working hard to avoid the hazardous rocks hurtling around them. The alsterfield was quite dense and in the distance loomed the remnants of the old Wedal mining facility.
“It’s probably best not to linger” mentioned passepartout.
Fogg pointed out through the window before them toward another jump hole in the distance. Passepartout quickly whirled the ship out of the limbo the asteroids had seemingly attempted to keep them in and pressed forward towards it.
Before the long the two had emerged into Duesseldorf, an empty system reminiscent of Bering.
“How drab” noted passepartout before pressing the ship onward to coordinates Fogg had just inserted.
“You have become quite the adept in navigation monsieur Fogg” he commented.
“Thank you passepartout”
The rest of the journey was as silent and empty as space they traversed. The hole was within view before long and the two men were eager to move on.
They emerged into Koeln moments later to behold the vastness of planet Steinfurt and an outcrop of the walker nebula in the distance.
“Much better” mentioned passepartout before gleefully taking the ship out and into the system.
“We have arrived monsieur, shal I take us to the Stuttgart gate?” he asked with a hopeful tone.
“We are to visit a nearby spaceport passepartout”
“But why monsieur?”
“Why, to ask for directions of course”
And the two proceeded onward.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-25-2015
Heisenberg Research Station was as much a research station it seemed, as a junker is a proffessor in quantum mechanics. It was a haven for all the undesirables of Rheinland; all crammed into the narrow sevice corridors and retrofitted shuttle bays of this crudely thrown together freeport. The station itself had no commercial center as such but was nonetheless teeming with merchants, smugglers and thieves all seeking to pass on whatever goods they had accrued in their travels. Bizarrely the occassional scientist would wander past as though they had not noticed their humble installation had been turned into a haven for crime.
It was into this environment that Fogg and his valet passepartout found themselves in shortly after arriving at Koeln. The pair of them stuck out rather boldly which drew curious and quizzical looks from all sorts as they strolled down the corridors and access tunnels.
"You two look funny" blurted a passerby to which passepartout simply replied quite honestly.
"So do you..."
The two strolled onward becoming somewhat lost in the maze of narrow passages leading to it seemed, nowhere. At this moment Fogg turned to his servant and said:
"I believe we would make better progress to cast our net slightly wider"
Passepartout seemed confused by this metaphor but listened nonetheless.
"You are to find whatever information you can about the Saar system and how we may convey ourselves there. We shal meet back at the ship in exactly one hour."
Passepartout nodded and bidded Fogg farewell before shuffling down an adjacent corridor in the hopes of fulfilling his master's request with a pleasing result. He wove his way through the mobs crowding the corridors, occassionally stopping to query some aviator-looking types about the system. He was mostly greeted by ignorant gestures or grunts he'd understood had probably meant 'no'. Passepartout looked at his watch, noticing 30 minutes of the alloted time had already expired. He moaned at this and was then suddenly prodded in the leg by an oddly dressed girl. She could not have been older than five or six, yet here she stood wearing a long tweed skirt fringed with knots of the rough, but colourful fabric. Her face was pale which was contrasted further by her jet-black hair that fell in knots behind her.
"Come. I'll read your fortune"
Passepartout gave a sympathetic look and bent down to see her face to face.
"I'm sorry my dear. But i'm in a bit of a hurry and don't quite have the time for..."
The girl yanked him by his collar and brought him down to her level. The unsuspecting valet was so surprised he hadn't had time to comprehend what was happening until she spoke. This time her face, and her tone changed.
"Don't take that patronising tone funny man. You're looking to get to Saar? I have what you want, but for a price. Now..."
She released his collar and gestured for him to stand upright.
"Come. I'll read your fortune." she said returning to the fragile sounding voice of a child.
Passepartout followed her down the narrow corridors quite flustered that he had indeed been manhandled, by a five year old no-less. He thought to himself 'at least it doesn't compare to Marne'. He was rather nervous, wondering where the ambushers were lurking and frequently peered over his shoulder as they walked. The girl then turned into a little niche of one of corridors no bigger than a toilet cubicle really. It was evident that this was where the child resided. A crude blanket lay crumpled in one corner and assortments of curiosities were strewn about the other. Despite the area being as exposed as anywhere the youngster seemed content she could now do business in privacy.
"Where is your mo.."
"Coordinates to Saar, 500 credits" she stated.
Passepartout tried hard to hide his surprise at the bargain he was being offered and instead made a counter-proposal.
"We are heading to New Berlin, and from there intend to explore the rest of Rheinland. We are looking for the most rapid means of transit."
"Ok..." she said and pulled out a thick file of multi-coloured paper from under the blanket.
She laid it out on the floor between them and began flicking through the pages. As passepartout watched her browse he noticed crude drawings of people, ships and and animals - a child's scrap book. 'What a fool' he thought to himself. 'Led astray by a child'.
"I have coordinates of holes in all the core systems and ways to the omegas and sigmas"
Passepartout was utterly dumbstruck by the child's understanding of interstellar transit and peered once more at the stack of papers she held. He made out several combinations of numbers crudely inscripted in crayon before she snatched the papers out of view.
"Hey mister! You want to get around, you gots to pay!"
"Alright then young lady, how much for everything"
She seemed confused.
"For Saar...?"
"Everything"
She suddenly realised and excitement raced across her expression.
"15,000 credits for everything"
"Here you go"
Passepartout fished out two cards from his wallet totalling 15,000 credits and passed it to her. She reached for it almost in disbelief and then snatched her hand back.
"You not playing games mister? Are these fakes?"
"I assure you young lady that they are indeed legitimate"
She seemed settled by this and took the cards before inspecting them and stashing them inside compartment of a small box in the pile of trinkets behind her. She immediately compiled all the papers in front of her and dumped them on passepartout.
"There you go mister"
Passepartout picked them up and re-compiled them, rather taken aback.
"Will you not need these?"
"Ohh no mister, you keep it, I have many copies"
Passepartout took one more look at the sheet at the top of the pile in his hands - a simply drawn rocket ship with an apparent unicorn inside one of the windows. He turned a page and saw a list of coordinates written in crayon and was satisfied with the purchase.
"Adieu young lady" he said
The girl simply waved over her shoulder as she compiled her things in her blanket, apparently preparing to depart her little niche.
Passepartout arrived back at the ship five minutes early. Of course at precisely ten seconds prior to their pre-agreed rendez vous, in strolled Phileas Fogg who steadily approached passepartout.
"So passepartout, what have you learned?"
Passepartout presented the sheets of paper to his master who seemed rather vexed by the colourful stack and simply gave an inquiring look to his servant.
"Coordinates monsieur; to jump holes all across Rheinland"
Phileas gave an unconvinced look to the imaginative drawing of the unicorn rocket ship on the premier page.
"And of Saar?"
"All included monsieur" said passepartout proudly.
Fogg gave one last look to the stack that his servant had presented so eagerly and seemed content that he would remain vexed as opposed to wasting valuable time addressing how he had come across these documents.
"Then let us be off"
And they filed into the ship at once.
RE: AROUND THE SECTOR IN 80 DAYS - Ash - 04-25-2015
After ordering passepartout to head for the coordinates to Saar he had retreated into the hold to begin compiling the itinerary for the remainder of their tour in Rheinland. For an hour he flicked through the scribblings of the girl, noting coordinates and directions to passages between the core worlds. Upon their arrival at the Saar jump hole passepartout turned to yell to his master in the hold when he noticed Fogg looming behind him silently. Fogg moved to the co-pilot's seat where he began pressing buttons on the navigation console.
"Observe"
The itinerary was brought up onto a holomap projector on the dash of the cockpit. The plotted course showed the most efficient route through Rheinland that would allow them to visit all remaining systems in less than 48 hours. From Koeln to Saar, Omega-54, Dresden, Stuttgart, Berlin, Halle, Munich and then Frankfurt. While encouraging this meant to passepartout that they would be stopping much later than he had anticipated.
"Monsieur, it has been nearly 12 hours since our departure from Hamburg. Where are we to put in for rest?"
"We have many long straights ahead of us passepartout. We shal sleep in the hold in shifts."
"But you cannot pilot the ship monsieur"
"Well as long as you are awake for any advanced maneuvers passepartout i am confident i can mind the autopilot"
Passepartout nodded at this in agreement.
"We shal traverse this jump to Saar and you may then take rest in the hold"
And so they progressed into the Saar system where passepartout set the flight computer to intercept with the hole to Omega-54 and engaged the cruise engines. For the first time Phileas Fogg assumed the pilot's seat before pulling his copy of Scott's cosmic almanac from his jacket pocket and began reading. Passepartout thought back to his brief service at Fogg's residence on Erie. The man seemed hardly displaced by it all. To him his location mattered little if he had a comfortable chair and sophisticated reading material to engross himself in. Passepartout retired to the single bunk in the hold behind the cockpit. The rattling of the engines was hard to overcome and for hours he struggled to drift off. But before long he was awoken by a beep from his master informing him that they had arrived at the next stage of their journey.
"Take us through passepartout" stated Fogg now reclining back in the co-pilot's chair.
The disgruntled valet dumped himself into the pilot's seat before taking the ship toward the hole ahead. Only once they were sucked through and spat out the other end did they realise that the system ahead was occupied. Passepartout queried any recent information about the system, but it returned little else than few news articles mentioning Red Hessians in the area. Regardless, they pressed on. It was only after half an hour travelling that they realised their destination jump hole was guarded by an array of vicious looking weapons platforms. Passepartout looked to his master for advice who abruptly replied:
"We must move swiftly"
With that the valet turned the ship onto an approach trajectory of the jump hole encircling the battery of platforms ahead. Massive energy pulses were flew past, some soaring near but none fast enough to hit the nimble vessel. The hole was only a few hundred meters from them when a homing missile hit home, taking out the little ship's shields and cruise engine. Fogg seemed unmoved by this and merely committed his attention solely to the hole ahead.
"Onward passpartout"
Passepartout kicked on the primary thrusters and they hurtled toward the hole, steering around numerous energy pulses converging on them. With a final straight dash the valet pushed on the flight stick taking the ship right down into the hole, then slammed his fist on the docking console. The ship was sucked in violently. The valet and his master we're pressed into their seats immobilised as the ship traversed the jump. But they were nonetheless coughed out into Dresden and a murky orange outcrop of the walker nebula. The two lurched forward in the rapid deceleration.
"GAH!... Oof..."
The valet took a moment to recuperate then took a look over at his master and his hat that had somehow miraculously stayed perched on the gentlemans brow despite the turbulent passage. It then became apparent that the mans emaculate chapeau had crumpled under the force of the jump and unfortunately now resembled a crumpled soda can. At this thought Fogg composed himself, removed his hat, tipped it up and put a hand inside. There was a short zip of a noise and in an instant the hat had remarkably revived itself to it's creasless emaculate shape. After returning it to his crown he nodded at passpartout and the two set off.