A Sponge and a Rusty Spanner - Printable Version

Keeping a low profile. Learning to fly a frigate. Living on board of it somewhere inside Puerto Rico. Scrapping metal. What was left over of some Dallas Storage Container was Gypsie's new habitat most of the day. The pay was good, the site was quiet and hidden, no Order would come after him out there. And even if they did, he was only a few clicks away from Puerto Rico's well defended jumphole anomaly. The truth was that almost no one except for Junkers and the sporadic navy patrol came near that debris cloud.

James Trenton had sealed the appropiate papers for him and his Hibachi dealer's Salvager to join the Congress, but he and the Junker big fish hadn't yet met again. That was why Gyp was hitting the bar at the Drunken Junker's often after his shifts, to see if he catched the old dog...

After so many days mining in Texas and hauling to Puerto Rico, Gypsie had already got the handle of the frigate's most important controls. He remembered some from the time he spent almost a month on board James Trenton's own Sally, and his Hamachi dealer helped him step by step.

He was starting to worry about the old man's health. The veteran junker used to take some Stabline on the side now and then with his ciggies, Gypsie guessed he might have been a cardamine consumer in the past. His skin color was not natural, definately.

After so many days of Texas mining the guy made a suggestion. He approached Gyspie while the Discordian was tampering some trinkets on a workbench and spake:

Watcha say if we fly these up to the Crons chief? We could get a serious bite there, fly back full of Cardi ya know?

The young reporter looked through the corner of his eye, over his shoulder.

Cardamine, huh? Hiding in the deep belly of Sirius' most hardcore underground scene came with getting one hand's dirty, but Gypsie knew what was at stake, so he decided to be practical on the matter. I guess it will come to that, after all. Being in the frontline of the deal did not mean being more guilty, mining the scrap his new friends then exchanged to Outcasts for cardamine was the same thing. It was not time for morals though, and being quite a psychonaut himself, Gypsie decided to let everything slip under his beanie.

That is, if you reely wanna turn Junker, or musta I tell the others back in the Drunken Junkers that you think your too good for our business? Besides, don't you golden zoners let the stuff flow like starbeams thru your home system?

Gypsie didn't like the old fart threatening him, but he was right after all, this had to be done. Every cloud has a silver lining though. He was gonna be able to get back into Baffin undercover and pay a quick visit to get his things together.

Set course to Baffin good sir! We sail north!

After the odd episode, Gypsie moored the Telemakhos at Pueblo Bonito. He needed a free office to write some letters, and the station offered several to be used by TAZ Popes and Popesses.

He first contacted the Gas Miners Guild. The guns on the Sallie could use a buff. Then he ordered the men at the metalworks to build the ship a better armor plating. A quick call from his Hibachi dealer to some Lancers in Coronado and a Spyglass Scanner was also on the way. The purchase of a cloaking device though would be more difficult and require deeper contacts with shadier groups and individuals, so he decided to rethink that one for the time being.

He was also able to visit the Kiva during his visit...