BPA Nomad Licensure

[Yngen]

Battleship Hood, Dublin

After quietly leaving Cambridge, the Gemenon Traveler makes for Dublin. Having been shown many of the secret holes in and out of the dangerous system by other miners, Michael Gideon finds the repurposed vessel in its lazy oblong orbit around Dublin's large yellow sun. As he manually docks with the Hood he notices a couple of Borderworld's fighters streaking around the race track, the miner's guild wireless sets were buzzing with cheers and jeers. Leaving his flaky co pilot to watch over the ship, Micheal disembarks into a miasma of horrid smells and colorful vendors. His eyes track the locals as they take in the new vessel parked in their domain. Greedy looks were everywhere, miners down on their luck or Mollies bankrupt over raging cardamine addictions-all of them looking at the Gemenon Traveler as if it were a money tree...

"This is Mike, lock the doors will ya, and set the point defenses a level higher."

A belch is all he gets in reply, but Gideon knows his order will be obeyed.

Gideon makes his way to the center of the ship where once a mess hall for Hood's Armed Forces crew, now a seedy night club called The Golden Nuggets. There was someone there who knew how to find a certain scientist...just where to find him...

Through the dance floor he walks, reeling jigs are streaming from the old shoe band playing in the corner (an ancient Terran would think it sounded like a mix of irish folk with techno dance.) Past the dance floor, through the gaming tables to the view port. There a gaggle of scruffy miners stand watching the races. From behind Gideon:

"You! Hey bets are off mister, they're in the lane already."

"Shucks, I guess I'll have to wait."

"Last race of the day 'm afraid."

"Another time perhaps, say I'm looking for a Dr. Sinclair...have you heard of her?"

"Sounds foreign to me, better talk to that fella over there."

The bookey motions to a slim grey haired man watching the races. He has been looking at Gideon ever since mention of Dr. Sinclair caught his ear. He makes his way over to Gideon:

"You're lookin for Sinclair? You won't find her here. Ever since the Nomad war she's been the formost authority on Nomad-xenoarcheology. They keep her cooped up at Cambridge research station now, haven't seen her in years."

"Cambridge...that makes things difficult, I don't suppose you have a way to contact her do you...privately?"

The old miner grinns at Gideon for a moment

"If I were a younger man I'd have you race for info like that, but ever since I lost to a rookie Freelancer 16 years ago no one will bet on me. You'll have to find her at her home on Cambridge. And yes, I know BPA has you black listed, got the vid broadcast only an hour ago. You'll have to do it real quiet like."

A deafening roar from patrons around them drowns out the miners last few words. He picks up on the uproar and goes back to the window to see how the race went. Gideon watches on as well and just manages to see a Dagger careening way off course, hidden turrets pounding its failing engine core, roars of laughter ring through the Golden Nuggets as the cockpit bursts open with an ejection, the fighter slamming its ruin on a large boulder. As bets are payed out, Gideon takes his leave and wades through the rest of the battleship back to the Traveler

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[AU]Anton_Blix
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