Bretonia Police Authroity, Investigation Division:
Investigation into activities aboard the station 'Junkyard' for contraband. Leading Officer, Chief Inspector Casey Renei.
The ship shuddered as it exited the jumphole, Casey kept a tight grip on the handrail above her head as she peered over the pilots shoulder. She could hear an unhealthy whine coming from the engines as the ship started to accelerate again. The pilot, who continuously refers to himself as 'Rex', was more used to flying fast then comfortably, his habit of manually regulating the fuel injection brutalised the engine and sent more ships in for repairs then a pilot on the front lines.
She glanced along the line of seats stretching back behind her towards the reason why she standing up at the cockpit, Bob, who was currently bending down to adjust the tinfoil hat on Harvey. She had a flash of annoyance at seeing that Bob's 'official' police dog was riding the pilot induced turbulence with ease. Why that paranoid nut case was continuously assigned to her she could only guess was due to some dark seed of amusement on the part of the Chief of Investigations.
Next to Bob she'd seated Waldorf Salad. As the officer that had been initially sent out to this far flung region of nowhere he'd been assigned to assist with the investigation. Him Casey didn't like, one of those 'good' cops that would probably stop traffic to let old ladies cross the street. She'd left him in the capable care of Bob who was trying to engage Waldorf in a conversation about the dangers of loose deck plating.
Looking out the front of the cockpit she could see the swirling mass of the Junkyard, surrounded by a small flotilla of transports, shuttles and maintenance craft. She eyed several of the transports as Rex navigated his way through. Refugee ships, more the she'd expected, carrying those few civilians that were still managing to slip past the Gallic blockading Leeds. On approach to the main docking bays Rex hailed the docking master.
"This is BPA Armoured Transport Uniform-India-Zero-Five, requesting permission to dock at Junkyard."
Casey nodded and made her way aft to collect her gear, she had an Investigation to run.
Waldorf was sitting in the back of the Armoured Transport as it made its way to Inverness. He was thinking back to when his Inspector had called him in to her Office and explained that he had been temporarily seconded to the Investigation Division. She had explained that seeing it was his report that had started it all off he was to accompany Chief Inspector Casey and her Team.
That was 2 days ago and in that time he had asked around about CI Casey. It seemed that the general consensus was she was a Woman not to be trifled with. There were rumours that she had more than one Officer drummed out of the Service for minor infractions. This had made him very nervous at the time and now as he was sitting there in the AT he started get nervous again causing him to dry his sweaty palms on his trousers.
Waldorf looked around looked at the other occupants of the Transport. Bob, as he introduced himself, was a strange character. He hadn’t stopped talking on the whole trip and Waldorf was hoping that they would arrive soon. As Waldorf concentrated on what Bob was talking about he saw that he was still going about loose deck plating. How the hell, could one person talk so long, on such a stupid subject, was beyond Waldorf. He smiled at Bob and nodded and then looked at Harvey, the police dog, and wondered, not for the first time, what the purpose of the tinfoil hat was. He hadn’t asked Bob this question as he thought that he would get a 4 hour dialogue on its purpose.
Waldorf glanced up as he noticed that Casey was heading back, towards them, from the Cockpit where she had spent a large proportion of the trip. He wondered whether she couldn’t stand Bob’s verbal diarrhoea either.
Waldorf then noticed that either Bob was getting louder or the engine noise was reducing. After a second or so he decided it was the latter and let out a sigh of relief as it appeared that they were close to their objective.
.
Aces stood patiently, one room removed from the docking bay A, and awaited the arrival of the investigation team that was expected. He was confident Waldorf would arrive as part of the crew but unsure as to the number or composition of the remaining Pilots involved, and he quietly wondered if any of them would be recognized by his staff -- as many of the Bretonian refugees had been assigned on this day to help service the specific docking bay prepared for the Officers.
"This is BPA Armoured Transport Uniform-India-Zero-Five, requesting permission to dock at Junkyard."
There was a moments pause that seemed an eternity, it seemed to Aces that the gents in the traffic-control room were not at all used to an official request from such a source.
"This is Junkyard docking control, bay A has been cleared for landing, please proceed immediately"
The decently professional response suprised Aces somewhat, as he knew the regular traffic chatter between local Junkers was much more.. crass. No slight or offense could be afforded however, as this investigation team would largely dictate the future Bretonian influence on the area, so Aces was pleased with the initial performance and hoped introductions at the docking bay would prove equally cordial.
As Aces watched from a grand viewport in the room next door the Armored Transport made its way into the available docking bay, and settled down gracefully with only a loud groaning from an engine needing maintenance to offset the elegance of the touchdown. As the deck crew made sure that the ship was properly serviced Aces entered the bay and began his stride towards the parked transport to introduce himself, accompanied only by a dossier and and purpose.
He was surprised, however, to be ambushed upon reaching the ship by the first member of its crew to dismount -- an excited dog with an unusual hat braved the leap from transport door to docking bay floor, and introduced himself with a few amiable barks, before stretching once and then relaxing on the bay's cool floor. Surprised but pleasantly so, Aces cautiously reciprocated the dog's friendly demeanor as he awaited the rest of the crew to disembark..
Waldorf sighed as the AT landed on the Junkyard. The sigh wasn’t because he disliked the journey, but thinking on it he would have preferred to travel in his Templar, but because of the long-time of inactivity and having to feign interest, for so long, on what Bob had to say.
As the Transport door open he was surprised to see Harvey bound past him and leap out of the door. Waldorf suddenly hope that the dog would behave itself and not cause an incident before they had even stepped on to the Base.
With his backpack slung over his shoulders he waited patiently whilst IC Casey straightened herself and slowly made her way to the entrance. Waldorf wondered to himself what kind of reception they would receive and what would the next few hours bring.
.
Aces had anticipated this meeting for some time, but was still unsure of the greater outcome, and waited somewhat nervously. The first crew member to disembark besides the dog was a woman whom Aces assumed was Inspector Renei. Behind her followed two gentlemen, the first was clearly the dog's owner as he went to the animal's side to straighten the tin foil hat that now rested at a lopsided angle. The second officer was easily identifiable by his voice upon introduction -- "Good afternoon Mr. Aces" -- as Officer Waldorf.
"Greetings Officers, welcome to the Junkyard of Inverness." Aces stated as he shook the hands of the investigation team. Introductions were cordial but quick, as Inspector Renei had already curious glanced at the immortalized 'wreckage' of a Firefly vessel. "I suppose we should start here?" She mentioned, indicating to Waldorf that they begin their work. Nodding, he complied and began to produce from his backpack a radiation scanner among other tools.
Aces smiled somewhat, as the Officers no doubt had a good eye for this sort of thing. The Firefly had been a smuggler's dream ship, that one specifically moving over hundreds-of-thousands of tons of contraband cargoes before an unlucky missile strike compromised most of the cargo bay.
"Ah yes, that is one of the three wrecks we initially mentioned.." Aces began before the need for his response was suddenly made unnecessary by Waldorf's conclusion, "Scans show inert traces of super heated liquid cardamine, but nothing else inspector." It seemed the lead inspector hesitated for a moment, and Aces wondered privately if he would be dealing with an attitude of intense skepticism where even a proper scan would not ease her concerns.
However, Inspector Renei then turned her back to the monument, facing the set of large doors leading from the Bay to the Station that Aces had entered from. "Looks good here to me," she continued, "Let's move on to the equipment facilities." And with that the gathering made its way through the bay doors and down a few short corridors until they quickly reached the equipment decks, as Aces accessed the storage and prepared to introduce the investigators to the station's primary equipment vendor.
After shaking hands with the man 'Aces' she absent mindedly wiped her hand on her hand on her pants, he seemed exceptionally nervous. After looking at the firefly wreck she hinted to Waldorf that he should start there, hoping to distract him with some dead end task while she searched for what was really going on around here. Harvey had mistook her motion as a sign that he was being handed something and happy wandered over and began to snuffle at her hand. As she pushed the dog away she noticed the Junker mechanics shuffling around the armed transport. Frowning she signalled one of the support personal that had gathered their gear and had followed them off the transport to stay and keep an eye on them.
Waldorf was already completing his scans, noticed with a flash of irritation. Quick off the transport and now whizzing through scans, his eagerness was going to be a problem.
When dealing with Junkers, first deal with the Junk. What they had the sell said a lot about whether this place was a just a front, especially suddenly empty spaces. She pushed past Aces and made her way towards the equipment decks.
Bob was in Heaven, around him was a vast collection of gadgets, scrap, and trinkets. This was going to be a great day. The ride over had already been one of great fun, Casey always provided the best of talking companions, who always kept glancing over at her as though in fear of her taking them away from him! He'd been surprised at how limited Waldorf's knowledge of deck plating had been, as though gremlins had never pushed them up just as he'd walked past to trip him up?!
He'd been hearing rumours about this place for quite some time. He hoped to get some new tin foil here, Casey had throw his last hat out the airlock and he was down to his last spare. Harvey was already busy sniffing among some of the items piled on the left of the doorway, making his way over Bob squatted down beside him.
"What you got there boy?"
"Woof! Woof!"
"Oooo oil spray can!"
Harvey whined, apprentlly this wasn't what he had in mind.
"Oh come'n Harvey! I'm sure Casey has forgotten about that."
A low growl indicated that Harvey hadn't forgotten Bob's attempt at a portable sausage cooker. Bob sighed and tossed the can aside and instead looked at the half finished task it had been used on, muttering to himself as he looked it over.
"Hmm, loading servo, military grade, probably an R5? "
"Gruff.."
"R6? Nonsense! Is your hat on straight? Why would an R6 part be on sale here, it's military hardware from a tank, that'd be illegal."
Harvey sat down and gave Bob a very levelled stare.
"Poof! Silly dog, you don't know...hey! Come back here with that!"
Harvey had picked up part of the servo and was dragging it over towards Casey. Bob made a dive and grabbed the other end, trying to pull it out of Harve'ys grip.
"Casey won't be interested in your blasted theory you hairbrain dog, give it back!"
Harvey growled and gave the servo a tug, pulling Bob off his feet. Still desperately hanging on Bob kept yelling at Harvey to let go.
A chill ran over Bob as a shadow fell over the pair. He realised he'd been yelling at the the top of his voice. His eye slowly followed the shadow back to their source at Casey's feet.
Uh oh.