Saturday, August 5, 2017
In this big, black case is a rather expensive radio, with an initial MSRP of around $200. There is a front and back page with technical specifications. I paged through the guide book, and it had a list of clear channel stations in the United States when published, as well as a time zone map and a log for shortwave radio stations the owner heard. Of the "clear channel stations", I saw Minnesota's old 830 kHz WCCO and 1500 kHz KSTP which are still around, as was St. Olaf College's WCAL at 770 kHz and WDGY at 1130 kHz. Of that pair, WCAL was bought by MPR, and the 1130 kHz spot in the Twin Cities is now a talk radio station. Another thing I saw was the nomenclature for the signal frequency, mentioned as kilocycles, as in WGN 930 kc, rather than Hertz, as the latter was not adapted as a SI unit until 1960.
How could something like this work in a science fiction campaign? Well, vacuum tube electronics are more or less electromagnetic pulse resistant, which may be useful if the characters find themselves on a nuclear or high energy laden battlefield. I would not be surprised if a Fusion Gun could fry equipment. Also, a system like this, a heavy duty communications receiver could be a useful trade good for TL 5-6 worlds. Not only would it be a good size for various transportation methods, with the original designer being a keen yachtsman, but it is also locally repairable. Think of the graduate class in receiver construction this would be on a low TL backwater, and how it isn't crippleware making the user totally dependent on outside tech support. Pair a radio receiver with a simple solar charger system, and it could be sold on almost any world that is open for trade as an easy way to get information to a large number of people The relatively innocuous nature of a radio blends into espionage campaigns as well. Numbers stations exist, as do propaganda stations like Voice of America, the BBC World Service, and Radio Moscow. An every day radio set can be part of a spy's sinister plans for the players to thwart.
Saturday, July 15, 2017
|A badge for the Boxing Kangaroo|
Brickley looked forward through the iris valve to the bridge opened; seeing Zabiyah on the left, and Hassan on the right. Forward of them sat Chishan at a console set up for master weapons, and Able Spacehand Hall to his back. The ship was nearly rigged for lift, with all equipment in the hull, and hatches locked. The only thing remaining connected was the power umbilical.
Brickley stepped through the valve, as Marine Yap stepped out from the ship’s locker and shouted “Attention on Deck!” taking their attention. The young man braced against the locker iris valve, as Brickley passed him in the narrow passage.
“Carry on. Captain has the deck,” was Brickley’s mild reply, but heard throughout the space. He stepped up to the acceleration chair mounted in the center at the aft end of the compartment.
“Captain has the deck, aye,” Hassan replies, noting the time in the log. “Sir, all departments report ready for lift. Clearance has been received from Alice Springs Central, we are scheduled for one hour from now.”
“Very well,” Brickley replied as he plugged in his personal comm to the ship’s systems and keyed the general announcing circuit.
“All hands, this is the Captain. We will be lifting in one hour. This is our first flight with the Boxing Kangaroo, and we will bring our new ship home. Our mission is simple here. We jump out to Ceres in the Belt, and then shoot an asteroid, and come back through normal space in time to get back to Terra for fixing any issues. I have every faith in you that we’ll make it without a problem. Carry on.”
The bridge crew looked at him with the understanding they’d be lifting soon. The indicator for an internal call came on. Brickley pushed his answer button. “Bridge, Captain.” The idea of saying that still came as new to him.
“Captain, we’re ready to start up the plant for this first time. Plant is in condition to start up in accordance with POP-1,” came Brand’s collected voice back to him.
“Right team,” Brand spoke to her people when she got off the line with Brickley, “The skipper said it’s time for us to start her up. Maurer, you got the procedure up?”
“Sir, Central has given us clearance, we have 10 minutes to boost,” Hall spoke from up forward.”
“Very well,” Brickley replied, after taking Brand’s report as well. “Astrogator, make checks of all spaces.”
“Make checks of all space, aye-aye,” Hassan replied, then spoke into the main announcing circuit, “All spaces, make final reports to the bridge before boost.”
He turned to a clear area of his console, and with a grease pencil, stood by for reports.
“Bridge, common area,” Sergeant Valdez came across, “We are ready for boost.”
“Ready for boost, common area, bridge, aye,” was Hassan’s reply. He got the same reports from Brand in Engineering, Owen in the Missile magazine, Castillo in the cargo bay, and Afari in the boat.
Hassan turned and looked at Brickley, “Sir, final reports from all spaces report ready for boost.”
“Very well, astrogator,” Brickley replied before continuing, “Pilot, stand by to boost on my mark.”
“Stand by on you mark, aye,” Zabiyah replied.
“Engineering, bridge make the maneuver drive ready to answer all orders from the helm.”
“Bridge, engineering, make the maneuver drive ready to answer all orders from the helm, aye,” came Brand’s report. A minute later she replied that it was in fact ready. The readout for the timer in the corner of his HUD showed 1:30 remaining before the Kangaroo’s turn to boost.
The slow wait got to everyone, as the ship felt unnaturally quiet. As the seconds clipped away, the nerves seemed to grow in anticipation. 15, 14, 13, 12….
“Pilot, ready to boost….” 5, 4, 3, 2 1 “NOW!” Brickley spoke as Zabiyah’s hands got the ship off the ground easily. The thunder of the ship’s lift boosted them to orbit quickly. He knew it would be about two hours for the ship to get to the 100D limit.
“All hands, this is the captain,” he began, “Relax watches until rig for jump.” Chishan stood up from his console, and walked aft, likely looking to get a quick snack.
Two hours passed uneventfully, and shortly before the 100D limit, Hassan looked up from his console. “Jump plotted, Captain. Do you want to check it over?”
Considering his basic astrogation skills, Brickley paused, and said, “I trust you here. It’ll be good enough.”
“All hands, stand by for jump. Engineering, divert power to the Jump Drive.”
“Power diverted,” came the response on the direct channel from engineering.
“Pilot, take us to jump!”
The INS Boxing Kangaroo shuddered for a brief moment, and the universe went to nothingness.
“Astrogator, set J-watch, section 1.”
“Set J-watch, section 1, aye, sir.” Hassan replied, “All hands, set J-watch, section 1.”
For the next week, the ship was in the quiet rotation of a jumping starship, even though the distance was far too little to be really worth Jumping for. Each day was heavily involved in administration and prep for the upcoming commissioning. Marines First Class Appledorn and Fini were practicing their pipe and drums in the Ship’s Boat each day, and somehow working into a harmony. Brand and Valdez were working to ensure that everyone’s uniform would be nearly perfect, and it seemed everyone was working well enough to ensure a quiet trip. 161 hours after jump, the ship precipitated out near Ceres.
“Senors, OOD?” Brickley asked Chishan as they precipitated in to N-space.
“I show nothing, sir. Contacting Ceresport now,” was the reply.
“Very well. Keep the ship fixed relative to Ceres while we wait.”
Shortly, a text only reply was received, it told them an asteroid 400,000 km ahead in the orbit was what they were authorized to target with all weapons. It had long been fitted with a couple of beacons for target practice with powered down lasers, and few missiles were authorized for expenditure on it. A short burn got them in position.
“All hands, Man battle stations for space engagement,” followed a gong of an alarm, rousting everyone from their places. The crew hastily donned their light vacuum gear, to plug into stations. Brickley took his location at the aft end of the bridge. Zabiyah at the right, Hassan left. Father forward, Hall and Castillo buckled into remote directors for the lasers, with Chishan and Owen taking the missile mounts. Brand and her juniors were ready to go in engineering, donning hardsuits. The Marines were standing by in the cargo bay, ready to either board the boat or the G-carrier.
“Sensors?” Brickley asked.
“Clear,” came Hassan’s answer.
“Wait, sir, I’m getting a jump emergence, range 50,000, bearing 358!” Hassan interrupts,
“Transponder?” Brickley responds. Shifting gears, he calls down to Chishan, “Do we have any warshots?”
“There’s twelve, sir. Three barrages per turret, and about 15 minutes for Owen and I to ready them by the book. We have to pull the telemetry”
|I found this in my copy of the Traveller Book|
Too good not to use.
Before he could hear the reply, Hassan spoke up, “Sir, it’s the Free Trader Mudshark by the transponder. She’s Fenris registry.”
“Ask them what happened to jump out here.”
“Coming across now, they’re coming from Prometheus, and headed to Ceres with a cargo or robotic parts. Looks like a slight jump problem”
“I’m sending the Marines over to ensure they’re legit, along with you as the boarding officer, XO. Draw a pistol on the way.”
As Sub-Lieutenant Hassan and the Ship’s Boat made their way over to the Mudshark for a papers and quick inspection. As the boat came closer, they saw a battered, aging Empress Marava-type ship, with the exterior only showing a simple sigil. On the Starboard side, at the passenger deck, Afari expertly docked the boat. Checking the tell-tales, Sergeant Valdez told Hassan, “Sir, we’ve matched up and there’s nothing incorrect on the other side. Me and Appledorn’ll go first, then you. The squad’ll file in except for Corp and Franke, as the boat crew.”
“Sounds like a plan, Sergeant. You heard him, we’re going.”
The Captain of the Mudshark, a middle-aged man with the name “Thu” on his ship suit stand next to another in a cheap suit. Valdez and Appledorn step out to either side.
“Captain Thu, isn’t it? Sub-Lieutenant Hassan, Imperial Navy, off the Patrol Cruiser Boxing Kangaroo. We’re going to conduct a brief inspection here, and ensure your ship’s safe.”
“Not a problem, but I’ll be looking for a new astrogator soon. I like getting back to the wife and kids, here,” the Captain replies. “Mr Tazewell here is a robot seller, and is looking forward to getting to Ceres to sell his wares, while I get some ores to take home to Fenris.”
“Thank you, Captain; Sergeant, start the inspection,” Hassan replied. “Are there any other passengers?”
“Nope, only Oggie here. It’s me, my nephew running the plant, a cousin who’s the steward, and a couple of hired hands. A good one for my nephew, a horrible one whose Astrogating. Need to find a relative who can astrogate.” Thu claims as he thumps Tazewell on the back.
“As the good captain introduced us, I’m Ogleston Tazewell at your service, my friend. I am a free-lance dealer in robotic parts. I sell Naasirka and Ling-Standard in the Sol and Dingir Subsectors.” Tazewell replies.
“Right, did you get lishun?” Hassan asks.
“Oh, free pratique, we cleared that at Prometheus. I’m sorry, you Imperials do prefer that term ‘lishun’.” Thus replies, and asks, “About how long will it take?”
“Depends on if the Marines find anything. May I review your papers?”
“Of course, you can. If you’d like, I can get Cousin Verda to get you something,” the Captian replies as he hands a data pad with the ship’s info on it to Hassan.
“No thank you, Captain.”
After his review of the papers, Hassan returns briefly to the ship’s boat, and informs the Kangaroo of the progress of the search. The gunners are all working to reinstall the telemetry packages on the missiles.
After an hour docked to the Far Trader, Afari calls, “Message for you, sir.”
Nodding in acknowledgement, Hassan answers, “Boxing Kangaroo, this is the boarding officer.”
“Boarding officer, Boxing Kanagroo. We got clearance back from Copernicus Down; this guy’s been check-mated, let him continue,” Zabiyah answers with near disinterest.
“Affirmative. I’ll get the Marines back here, and we can resume the shakedown. Boarding officer, over.” Hassan quietly walked back to the waiting Captain Thu.
“Sir, we regret the inconvenience, and you are free to carry on at this point,” Hassan states to him, offering a hand shake. “Once I call the Marines, we’ll get off your ship.”
“Of course, of course! At some point, I may have to bring the family along, on one last voyage. Many have not seen the wonders of Earth! I hope the other officers of the Imperial Navy turn out as professional as you!” Thu ebulliently responds, pulling the Sub-Lieutenant in awkwardly.
Stepping away, Hassan calls “Valdez, round everyone up. We’re letting this ship get on with her business.”
“Aye aye, sir,” Sergeant Valdez responds. “Marines! We’re clear.” The team is back aboard the boat with in a couple of minutes. “All present, sir.”
“Very well, Sergeant.” Hassan replies to the order. “Captain Thu, we’ll be clearing your airlock momentarily. Save travels as you shape your voyage home.”
“Of course! And the same to you.” Captain Thu replies, shutting the iris valve between him and the boat. Hassan walks through the air locks, cycling the boat’s as he head back to his seat just off the flight deck.
“Corporal, take us home.”
“Taking us home, aye,” Afari responds, in his Terran accent. The Marines are a bit more frantic than normal, seeing as were doing something rather than the nothingness of ship’s troops duties. Even a perpetually barely breaking even Far Trader with no interesting contraband is new compared to being locked into a starship with little to do. The trip back to the Boxing Kangaroo is uneventful, as is the docking. The Marines get to their post operation routine of equipment care as Hassan returns to the bridge.
Strapping himself in, Hassan tells Brickley, “Just another fellow trying to make a credit. I think a robotics salesman had him chartered.”
“I see,” the captain replied. “We’re getting back on schedule. I’m setting a modified battle stations here so the Marines can complete their work.”
“Did it really relax?” Hassan asks rhetorically.
“No sir,” came Zabiyah’s response.
“Right then,” Hassan replied, as he keyed the mike and announced, “Naval personnel, man battle stations for weapons test.”
The two junior gunners came up, and manned their stations forward of the bridge, setting them up to take the laser turrets. Chishan and his junior gunner reported the missile battery manned and ready, as did Brand in engineering.
“Astrogator, range to target?” Brickley inquired
“Open fire, Laser 1”
“Laser 1, open fire, aye.” Spacehand Hall replied. Direct hit, and unaided.
“Laser 2, open fire, with full fire control assist,” Brickley ordered.
“Open fire with full fire control assist, aye,” Castillo, her counterpart at the other station acknowledged. Again, a direct hit, results similar to the first.
The ship closed the range to 10,000 km off this rock, and repeated the procedure with the missile battery. Chishan’s hit, as did Owen’s.
The only thing left was the distance burn. All telemetry was sent to the Naval base at Theophilus on Luna. About a half hour later, the Kangaroo got her results back; pass in all regards, take the fifty-hour burn in back to Terra, and the ship and crew were accepted for commissioning. The impromptu boarding exercise would count for small craft operations.
The return was uneventful, and Zabiyah stuck the landing at Alice Springs perfectly. A small crew was there to meet them, including Admiral Taugolo, informally congratulating them on a job well done. Next week would be the formal congratulations and commissioning.
Friday, July 14, 2017
Being the obsessive type I am, as well as having spent a portion of my life under one of these, here are the watchbills for the Patrol Cruiser Boxing Kangaroo. A watchbill can provide some useful 'chrome' for your campaign. It can tell you who is responsible for ship's operation at what time. Like having your players keep a log, this is another way of bringing it to life.
I set up a three section watchbill, and I assume six hours on and twelve hours off shifts, because that's what I saw most often. The Captain, as a matter of tradition, does not stand a set watch, but can relieve at any point he sees fit.
I set up a three section watchbill, and I assume six hours on and twelve hours off shifts, because that's what I saw most often. The Captain, as a matter of tradition, does not stand a set watch, but can relieve at any point he sees fit.
UNDERWAY WATCHBILL, INS BOXING KANGAROO
Section I Section II Section III Kick
Messenger Castillo Hall Owen Afari*
Engineer Maurer Brand Maurer Franke*
Marine Appledorn Fini Hoedmaeker Binici
*Corporal Afari and Marine Franke are standby on Boat Crew in N-space; in J-space they are to serve as above.
Sergeant Valdez and Marine Yap are on call at all times.
INPORT WATCHBILL, INS BOXING KANGAROO
Section 1: Hassan (CDO), Valdez, Zabiayah, Owen, Castillo, Maurer, Hoedmaeker, Binici
Section 2: Brand (CDO), Chishan, Afari, Hall, Kidd, Appledorn, Fini, Franke
Marine Yap is on call at all times.
OOD: Officer of the Deck, is the on-watch pilot, and responsible for safe operation of the ship. All others are responsible to this person. In Jump, the OOD is merely the bridge systems manager and control manager, and has his eye on the Jump warning.
Messenger: Roving watch, reports to the Officer of the Deck on all matters. Checks to ensure other watch standers are doing their jobs alertly, and wakes oncoming personnel. This does including getting drinks for the rest of the watch team.
Engineer: Ensures safe operation of all engineering plant equipment during watch, and performs preventative maintenance during the watch.
Marine: responsible for the security of and condition of Marine Force equipment during the watch. May also be standing security watch on the missile magazine if any special weapons are on board, or stand guard over prisoners. Responsible to the Marine Detachment Non-commissioned Officer In Charge for Marine Force Matters, and to the Officer of the Deck for all shipboard matters.Command Duty Officer: Responsible for the direction of an in-port duty section.
Kick: A supernumerary watch stander, this individual stands a specified watch period every day, allowing additional time for training, administration, or qualification for the others.
I tried to remove slang and excessive TLA use, but please tell me if you'd like any clarifications.
I tried to remove slang and excessive TLA use, but please tell me if you'd like any clarifications.
Saturday, June 17, 2017
|By Source, Fair use,|
These ships come about because of commerce raiding as both the wolves and the sheepdogs around helpless merchants. The predatory ones, like the German Auxiliary Cruisers such as Von Luckner's SMS Seeadler. These ships operate under false flags, which are theoretically replaced with the real one to give the victim a chance to surrender. The other reason, like the ill-fated HMS Jervis Bay, are built to be readily available escorts and protection. Q-ships were a subset of these, smaller ships equipped to trap commerce raiders, submarines usually, with a hidden armament.
Thus, an Armed Merchant Cruiser exists because purpose built warships are for some reason unable to complete either commerce raiding or commerce protection and patrol duties. In some cases, you could find a peace time force of such auxiliary ships, especially in Navies looking to ensure a knowledge continuity in unusual craft, or as aggressors. A Naval Depot could include a few as part of it's defense and exercise force, or as part of a Convoy operations school that can be re-tasked in a time of war.
There is a couple of official designs for a Q-ship, also useful as an Armed Merchant Cruiser. First, in SJ Games Deckplan 3: Empress Marava-Class Far Trader, there's the Empress Arbellatara class variant, that replaces the cargo space with Rampart fighters. Another is provided on page 71 of Mongoose Publishing's Traders and Gunboats, based on the Type R "Fat Trader". These are both common enough designs a competent referee could set them on the players as a joker if the PC's have become a bit too ethically challenged. More may be in other books I do not own.
An Open Armed Merchant Cruiser would be operating as a Navy unit in all respects, squawking a Navy Transponder code, and operating as a normal patrol ship or as the escort for a convoy. In some ways, a converted merchant hull would make sense, as it would have similar performance to the ships it is escorting. On patrol operations, it could be set up for a longer duration operation (in-system performance).
|The piratical LCDR Tom Dodge in "Down Periscope"|
Of course, these could be working together, where an open Armed Merchant Cruiser is 'escorting' a convoy of hidden ones, Most commerce raiders might consider turning tail when the entire convoy starts spitting nukes, and a large group of fighters are being launched.
In my view of the Official Traveller Universe, the Imperium is big and powerful, but just can't be everywhere. In many cases, local Dukes are unable to get the effective ships commerce protection, even in peace time, from the Imperial Navy, or else a world finds its commerce is under attack, and need mildly combatant starship of its own to ensure fewer merchants are lost. As I see it, the Imperium is more willing to give them Armed Merchant Cruisers than 'real warships', as they are not as emphatically Navy as a Patrol Cruiser, or a Destroyer. In some cases, along the lines of various other vessels navies have in war time, but prefer to get rid of as they are not part of the 'proper fleet' and offer opportunities for junior officers to show up their seniors. The subsectors and systems near the Vargr Extents (Coreward frontier of the Imperium) will have Armed Merchant Cruisers on their permanent Navy Lists, while those on the interior will normally see few if any.
Navies might not be the only operators of Armed Merchant Cruisers. A shipping line of type R's or A2's may buy an Armed Merchant Cruiser based on their fleet hull, as a way to ensure their cargoes get through. An mercenary Armed Merchant Cruiser could operate beyond the Imperium, supporting various small states against both pirates and rival small powers, particularly in the Extents.
In a campaign, an Armed Merchant Cruiser would be a different way to run a war, and to keep it at the players scale. A group of middle aged spacers looking to get out of a boring retirement would be a very skilled crew for one. Former Navy and Scouts would be the crew, boarding parties for Marine and Army characters, a Merchant type would add believably to the ruse of being a trader. Reformed pirate types would be useful as well; for understanding the piratical mindset better than some stuffy Navy type. Encounters would help the referee determine the course of the war. Successes help move the front along, but failures lead to losing the war. It can also be a mechanism to draft the party into the Navy, "Since you have been successful in this, we're promoting you, and sending you to a new cruiser," could be the response they get from success. It helps keep it at the Adventure Class ships level, where it's all smaller ships, and the PC's make the important decisions. The fleet units are escorting the Megafreighters, while the small Armed Merchant Cruisers are stuck herding cats forming Free Traders into a convoy.
Thursday, April 13, 2017
Sixty odd days of office work and trainers had them all at a head it seemed. The crew involved with was some industrial work every day at this point, but it seemed to involve little of Lt. Brickley’s time. He had been there for keel laying, when the first module of the ship was assembled. The secondary berthing compartment was attached to the frame for the cargo bay and the hangars that day, and construction had continued at a decent pace. At this point, the main physical structure of the ship was mostly there, only the beak-like nose containing the sensors, the fuel tank wings, and the missile magazine and turrets had not been attached. Many of the compartments were unfinished as well, and the power plant had yet to be installed. Brickley had made it a point to go there every day; but far too often (to him) it seemed his day wouldn’t let him get there. Brand, Chishan, and Zabiyah were mostly his on-site supervisors, with Hassan getting down there for most days. The two spacers who had been assisting them when Hassan and Brickley moved into the office, Able Spacehand Hall, and Fireman Kidd, had turned out well enough so far. Two more were coming in “Soon” according to command, but that could mean tomorrow or a month from now. The Marines, as well, were coming in time to be determined.
Days not involved in construction often had involved time in trainers, and meetings. Trainers, though unpleasant, as they had several near mishaps in various scenarios, but each one changed as to what was incorrect, at least got the crew together as a team. That paled next to the fallout from the ongoing Spyridion Affair.
Earlier this year, several officers had defected from the Solomani Confederation, the most senior of which was Alexander Spyridion. Shortly after his defection, he announced he was going on a speaking tour of the Imperial regions closest to the armistice line. He had been given sanctuary along with many of the other officers. Just over a month ago, an extradition request had been denied. Thus, the base was on ‘enhanced security measures’ for a long time, but the lack of people under his command meant instead it was just a security pain in the ass for that period.
|Aboriginal Welcoming Dance|
That evening, during the festival, Brickley and Chishan notice something is wrong with one area of this plaza. The little shack containing rest rooms and utility connections for some of the vendors when the desert allows for a market, looks like there’s some extra space that’s unaccounted for. It’s a simple task for the crew to open this up, and it turns out there’s a manhole cover in here. It looks to be untouched in quite a long time, and preserved almost immaculately by being out of the weather in the desert.
After opening it and descending two meters, it comes out to a narrow stairway. Using a couple of flashlights, standard issue to spacers on liberty, they find their way into a door with the Solomani cross as a small symbol, and the notation “PHX ALICE SPRINGS BN” on it. Brand gasps, “How could something like this survive? It’s from the Solomani Phoenix Project that was wiped out.”
“You should know as well as anyone,” Hassan interjects, “The Army and Marines maybe good, but they aren’t perfect. I’m just surprised it’s lasted this close to the Base and all. Since we’re not on the clock, what does everyone want to do?”
The crew discusses, and it ends up they all want to look into the bunker. The doors somewhat like an unpowered starship hatch, and despite the century of neglect, they open it. It opens into another short stairway, that comes down to a landing. Ahead is one door, and to the right is another. The door ahead is visibly locked, but the one to the right is not. It contains a couple of desks, and spots for a computer table. Upon investigation, a key is found, and can open up the rest of the bunker. The group finds the main bunker still has lighting power. The first door is a medical space.
|Based on a plan from http://www.harwichanddovercourt.co.uk/the-war-years/|
“Wow, Rim War era med supplies, even an Auto Doc. With this crap, I’m surprised the Sollies didn’t put up more of a fight.” Zabiyah notes looking in there.
“I don’t trust any of this equipment, it’s too old,” Chishan notes, “Let’s keep going.”
A little farther down the hall is a supply closet on one side, that includes a diagram of the bunker.
“Cryo chambers for some kind of staff?” Brand notes, “we need to get this back to NavInt immediately.”
“But maybe there’s more gear here. A souvenir might be useful,” Zabiyah notes.
“Note sure there is much use for one from this place,” Chishan replies grumpily. “Hundred-year-old Sollie crap, and you can get stuff that hasn’t been sitting in a desert bunker without risking your life.”
“Enough from both of you,” Hassan snaps. “We don’t need to make many other decisions. Let’s at least take a look around here briefly.”
“Right. Exec, we’ll take a look at the comms and stores first. I want to make sure there’s nothing lethal in either before we call in the Provost Marshal and other people like him.” Brickley decides. They take the left turn up past the comms room, noting the dusty mounting brackets, and see the sealed off cell for a prisoner. The Equipment room holds a few tools and supplies for building maintenance and manuals for the power system.
“All this way for a janitor’s closet. They even have a Cadillac.” Zabiyah states dismissively after looking in.
“Who asked for your opinion? The whole thing’s impressive if anything still works.” Brand retorts. “Part of me wants to take a look at the unmanned plant.”
“We’re going to take a look at the main stores around the armory next. Exec, you Zabiyah and Chishan stay down, while-” Brickley starts to speak
“A great plan except there’s still a Solomani alive! Long live the Cause and free Terra!” an unfamiliar voice shouts, and cocks an autopistol. He rushes out from the door at end of the dog leg, wearing an old style Solomani uniform with a nametape that reads “Kaufmann”. He wears a Phoenix perched on the Solomani cross as an insiginia.
“Hold on, Private. We aren’t here to-“ Brickley begins as they turn around as a group. Brickley and Hassan are at the end closest the newcomer, Brand in the middle, with Chishan and Zabiyah at the far end.
“Enough lies to Imperial Scum! I ought to put a round through all of your brains! Reach for the sky!” the man rants, his face contorted.
Brand states, “You look odd. You know how long you’ve been frozen? I think something might have affected you in cold sleep.”
“Silence!” he yells as he points his pistol at her. “Maybe I should shoot you first!”
“Do you want to get back to the Confederation?” Hassan asks.
“And leave Mother Terra in the hands of mix breeds from the Core like you?” Kaufmann replies, shifting his aim to Hassan. “I volunteered for this because when the War began, I found a purpose in the Army. And this way, I can hit the Imperium back harder.”
“You know, the Imperium will hear if that thing goes off. Alice is the Navy’s town” Brickley replies, trying to de-escalate the situation.
“Like I care. I just have to send a signal and Phoenix initiates,” Kaufmann replies, his eyes gleaming with madness. “Codeword Omega, and the war starts again”
The enslisted trio flee into the equipment space, and get out of the way while the officers charge in. Brickley misses his attack, while Hassan manages to grapple and disarm the Solomani soldier. Brickley moves to pick up the dropped pistol, noting the safety is still on, as Hassan and the trooper are still wrestling. Hassan manages to knock him prone.
Holding the recovered pistol, Brickley, steps up, and places a foot on the man’s chest, pointing the pistol in a threatening fashion. “Listen, you’re coming with us, and there will be no grand success in retaking Terra by the Confederation,” he announces almost theatrically. “Come on out, he’s down.”
After the trio get out, Hassan and Zabiyah work with him to conduct an improvised binding with a couple of zip-ties they found in the equipment closet.
“Exec, Boats, you two with me. Eng and Guns, take a look and ensure there’s nobody else to surprise us.”With defeat obvious in his voice, Kaufmann bitterly states, “There’s nobody else. We were supposed to be a HQ section, and all the other lows berths didn’t revive properly.” The crew shuffles him out. Once out, the Marine MP’s arrive quickly to cordon off and investigate the bunker. It quickly becomes apparent that Kaufmann is going to spent a long time talking to various Imperial Intelligence services, before he is repatriated back via Smade’s Planet. They spend a few days getting debriefed about the whole affair.
Esperance/Solomani Rim 147-1120
Count Willem Salacrou has arrived on Esperance to begin a round of mediation involving both Imperial and local officials.
"This is shuttle diplomacy," the Count said during a press conference at the starport. "War on Esperance would benefit no one, not the Imperium and not the Human or Vegan citizens of the planet. If I can help defuse the situation, all the better."
Dimmurak/Solomani Rim 150-1120
Planetary elections have yielded a razor-thin majority for the pro-Imperial Iishadun Party, along with a great deal of election-day violence and widespread accusations of vote fraud.
Cheng Golok of the Interstellar Brotherhood of Labor stated that "if the Iishadun and their megacorporate sponsors think that they can steal this election, they are sadly mistaken. Under the Dimmurak constitution, the IBL and the People's Party demand a recount, to be monitored by neutral observers."
Late this evening, the Citizen’s Advisory Council issued a statement agreeing to the IBL demand, announcing that officials of the Imperial Ministry of Justice would be invited to oversee a recount and (if need be) a run-off election.
Thursday, March 23, 2017
|A snip of the Kinunir from p. 14 of the adventure for review purposes|
For running, it's a very bare bones set up. There's three entry points, and it's largely up to the referee to get the characters from the entry to the adventure itself. It's a more bare bones approach than the current ideas on how to write an adventure. This is less the modern adventure with everything scripted out, more of a frame work to build into your universe.
In a fundamental difference, the Imperium is not as pleasant in this incarnation as it is later on. The Imperium disappears politicians it doesn't like and locks them in prison hulks. They ruthlessly use Ancients technology and Anagathics for the ruling class, and make it difficult for lesser nobles and players to get access to it.
Warships are built with imported components. The scrapped Adda Dubsar lays on its ways on Regina, a TL A world, fitted for a Model 7 computer. At least for its own purposes, the setting is implicitly allowing for equipment on a world to be produced outside of it's stated tech level. It can either be a plot point or something like current era ships built in China but fitted with Western weapons and sensors. I see "Tech Level" as mostly relating to what is commonly available on the world.
Also, we begin to see information about the wider setting. Somewhere in this Imperium is a Vegan Autonomous District-this won't be detailed until 1982 when Solomani Rim is released. For a J-4 ship presumably built in the Spinward Marches, it's a long journey in the Official Traveller Universe. There's also mention of the Fourth Frontier War, and Express Boats. It's starting to merge the small ships of the initial release into the large ships of High Guard and later editions. Also, Strephon and Iolanthe are mentioned, complete with UPP's.
Generally, this is an interesting addition to any Traveller collection, and a fodder for ideas as well. The Kinunir and similar ships can make give your Free Traders a real threat with out a big ship, or be Big Daddy for merc campaigns, especially if the Marines are deployed. It's setting neutral for the most part, and easily adapted. A lost starship is a great adventure hook in any science fiction setting.
Tuesday, February 21, 2017
|A fan build model kit of the INSS MacArthur in the possession of Jerry Pournelle|
Fundamentally, Mote is a book about events, and not people. The Second Empire has arisen, and in the process of establishing it's rule. A daring action leads the dashing noble officer Roderick Blaine into command of the battle cruiser MacArthur. Heavily damaged in this pacification action, it is sent back home, with two important passengers, Lady Sandra young woman from a prominent family conducting field research, and Horace Bury, a merchant suspected of starting a revolt. It is the only starship on the scene as an unknown solar sail spacecraft appears, and disables the unknown ship. Finding out it's from a non Terrestrial race, and this is the first time chance for a First Contact, the MacArthur and its passengers are reassigned, to the first first contact with an alien intelligence.
And what an alien intelligence the Moties turn out to be. A biologically casted species, who must reproduce or die, they are an excellent foil to humanity. They understand the technology of Alderston Drive for interstellar travel, but do not have the Langston Shield that allows human ships to take more damage and even enter the photosphere of a star. Neither party really understands each other is hiding something, like the Imperial Battleship Lenin at the only Alderson point that leaves the system, or the Motie Warrior Caste. The Humanity is just as alien to the Moties psychologically, especially when the MacArthur's engineer meets them. Humanity's lack of specialization drives some of the Moties mad, as well as our reproductive biology. Locked into their star system, the Moties are in an eternal Malthusian Trap.
The characters are not particularly memorable, as they fill roles in the story, and are archetypes for the most part. The big character development moment is for Bury seeing a dead man's space suit filled with Watchmaker Moties causes him to radically change his position, from resentful of the Empire, to knowing it is the only force that defend humanity from the aliens. The final resolution involves a blockade being established at the request of one of the Motie mediators once the truth of the Moties is known. The book ends with Bury getting blackmailed into becoming an agent of the Empire with an officer, Kevin Renner formerly of the MacArthur, reactivated from getting out as his minder.