Ungstiri Hospitality

One of the first stops for the Sanctuary refugees who have just returned to their home universe is the shattered world of Ungstir.

Landing Pad 

Rough hewn walls of iron and basalt, grooved by machinery used to carve this spaceport facility out of the glinting black and gray rock, rise on all sides of the broad pad that provides ample room for starships to perch during their stay on Ungstir.

Bright sulfurous lights seem to cast the chamber - with its atmosphere containment field forming a sort of life support bubble - in permanent daylight despite the gloomy darkness and stars that loom beyond. Through the field, silhouetted by the glow of the distant star Perseverance, one can make out the rolling, drifting shapes of rocks and planetoids - remnants of the world to which this chunk once belonged.

Squat, dark-haired technicians with pale skin and gruff demeanors move from ship to ship, checking fuel levels and mechanical fitness of the vessels. An archway leads out of the landing facility and into what appears to be a sort of common area.

Dykstra reads the display briefly before closing the panel again.

Boromov walks in from the commons, his cane making a soft ticking sound against the floor.

Dykstra moves to another panel on the ship, openning it. The display chirps and lights up.

Dykstra closes the panel.

Dykstra walks over to one of the ship's turrets.

Dykstra pulls a small tool from his pocket. Reaches up to the turret, amking some adjustments.

Dykstra puts a small tool into his pocket. He pulls out a greasy rag, wiping his hands.

Dykstra turns from the ship, muttering something to a passing mechanic.

Boromov begins to stroll along the bay in a leisurely manner.

Dykstra spots Boromov, walking slowly over to him.

Dykstra says, "Hey. You waiting on a ship. I'm real sorry for the delay. We're a bit backed up right now."

Dykstra says, "We're gettin' them fueld as quickly as possible."

Boromov stops, and turns to Dykstra. He speaks with a heavy Russian accent. "No no, comrade, I am merely getting my daily stroll. There are so few places to stroll without feeling cramped, and this is one of them."

Dykstra smiles weakly at Boromov. "I lkie to strecth my legs too, but the fumes in this place get to me after a while...an' I been doing this a long time."

Boromov says, "When one lives on the rocks long enough, fumes become almost commonplace, comrade."

Dykstra nods slowly, glancing back over his shoulder as someone dumps over a tool tray. " Yeah. i s'pose yer right.

Dykstra turns back to Boromov. "Well...I got to get back to work." gestures towards and area across the bay. "I'd stay clear of that area. We got more coming in."

Boromov nods to Dykstra, as he fondles the flower he is wearing on his lapel.

Dykstra turns, crossing the pad to a small ship at the far end.

Dykstra approaches a small ship, waving off another technician that approaches it.

In the sky above, a dropship comes into view as it descends toward the surface.

Dykstra grabs a large hose lying nearby and pulls it closer to the ship.

Boromov stops and watches as the new ship arrives.

You take a step back as a dropship fires its drop rockets and lands before you.

Boromov begins strolling towards the ship.

Dykstra moves to stand clear, waiting for the dropship to power down.

Dykstra moves back over to the ship he was working on.

Boromov stops near the bottom of the ship's ramp.

Dykstra presses a button on the side of a small ship. A panel opens reavealing a display that chirps to life.

Dykstra glances back at Boromov.

Boromov seems to be waiting for someone to emerge.

Dykstra shouts over to Boromov,"Hey. You might want to stand clear of there."

Boromov pointedly ignores Dykstra.

Dykstra continues,"Engines might flare when they power down.

Dykstra shrugs, turning back to his work.

Fulton exits from the Asylum.

Fulton has arrived.

Falkenberg exits from the Asylum.

Falkenberg has arrived.

MacDonald exits from the Asylum.

MacDonald has arrived.

Melissa exits from the Asylum.

Melissa has arrived.

Snowmist exits from the Asylum.

Snowmist has arrived.

Firemane exits from the Asylum.

Firemane has arrived.

Dykstra grabs a large hose and attaches it to a nozzle on the side of a small ship.

Boromov is standing at the bottom of the Asylum's ramp as everyone disembarks.

Fulton exits the vessel, walking slowly down the ramp. His eyes are set on the floor and his hands are lost in his coat's pocket.

Boromov speaks with a heavy Russian accent. "Velcome, comrades."

Falkenberg looks around them, hand by his side. He zips up his leather jacket and shivers a bit.

Falkenberg looks at Boromov. "Uh, thanks."

Dykstra presses a button on the hose and it stiffens as an unseen pump emits a muffled mechanical whirring.

Snowmist trails along at the back of the group, ears swiveling to catch all sounds, eyes flicking from motion to motion.

Boromov says, "I hope your transit from Sanctuary was without incident?"

MacDonald pulls his vest tighter around his abdomen, "You never told me it was this cold here, Mel.." His eyes jump to Boromov..

Snowmist's eyes turn sharply toward Boromov.

Melissa walks slwoly down the ramp, eyes not focused on anythign as they take in everything that surrounds her. She seems comfortable in the cold climate.

Shifting her eyes to Boromov she blinks surprised for just a second, "Ye..." she seems to affirm what he just said but stoms herself, eys moving up to the others.

Falkenberg stares at Boromov for a moment, then looks at the others. "Well, one dilemma solved," he murmurs.

Firemane's eyes assess Boromov with interest, and she absently buttons up her longcoat. "Well, we had a spot of trouble finding you... But.. Wait.. You know of Sanctuary?"

Fulton looks up, gazing at Boromov, yet he addresses Falk. "Seems there's no need to tell them. They know who we are. Or so it seems."

Dykstra leans back against a small ship, crossing his arms. A small trickle of fluid seeps from the hose as it runs.

Boromov seems to laugh at the response. "Come now, comrades, give an old man credit. This ship is not exactly a modern model, and it has been quite a long time since I have seen...civilized...Demarians."

Falkenberg nods to Fulton. "The Dimensional jump. Might have been detectable."

Snowmist frowns, whiskers and tail twitching at the offhand comment, but remains silent for now.

"Ah, true. I forgot that detail." Fulton says, eyeing Boromov.

Dykstra shouts across the bay to the group of arrivals, "You gonna need a refuel on that thing? I can get to it next if ya want."

Melissa steps forward past Fulton on the ramp, she seems more interested in the floating chunks outside then on the Ungstiri, who by all accounts appear 'normal' to her.

Falkenberg nods and steps toward Boromov. "Well, if you know who we are, you can imagine we have many questions."

MacDonald hmphs slightly, "Well, I guess he has a point." He glances over at the two Demarians among the group..

Firemane glances back at the Asylum. "Yeah, I guess we do stand out.." She pauses for a long second, and then asks the question. "Civilized?"

Boromov says, "It is common knowledge that Demaria is not exactly a...nice place to visit."

Dykstra turns back to the panel on a small ship as it begins to chirp. He unlatches the hose and lets it drop to the ground.

Melissa wraps her arms in front of her, eyes turning up to the field above.

Boromov looks to Falkenberg, "Questions I can understand. After all, it has been over 3 centuries since you left."

Falkenberg shrugs. "Well, that's a matter of perspective. For us, it was only 3 months. Er, 6."

Firemane nods, glancing over at Melissa, steping up next to her. "Home feel good?" She asks.

Dykstra presses a button on the panel and it closes.

Melissa looks back down and towards Firemane, "Not real sure yet.." she responds softly.

Boromov seems rather surprised at this. "Quite an interesting phenomenon. I am sure that my son Nikolai would be most interested in discussing it with you at a later date."

Dykstra kicks a hose away from the ship and pulls a greasy rag from his pocket.

Falkenberg shrugs. "Well, he might want to chat with one of the scientists who understand it. Not my field."

Snowmist lets out a breath, not-quite scowling as she turns a full circle to take in all that's in the chamber, watching Dykstra's actions occasionally.

Dykstra wipes his hand, looking over at the group of new arrivals.

Melissa turns her eyes slowly towards Boromov, "This is relaly all thats left of Ungstir?" she asks as if still somewhat disbelieving.

Dykstra stops another technicia as he passes and says something to him. He then turns and approaches the dropship, still wiping his hands.

Falkenberg clears his throat. "In any event, from our perspective, the Kretonian invasion of 2652 was six months ago. We'd appreciate it if you could fill us in on 300+ years or so of history. Any computerized records you could provide would be helpful as well."

MacDonald is distracted from Boromov and Falkenberg by the technicians. He continues to eye them as the approach the ship..

Dykstra passes the group as he makes his way to the side of the dropship. He frowns as he looks at the side of the ship. His gazes searches up and down its length until he finally nods and moves further to the rear.

Boromov nods. "It is, I'm afraid, but we Ungstiri have earned the moniker 'Ungstiri Tough' for a reason, comrade. What you new as Ungstir Prime and Ungstir Three were destroyed by an attack from the Nalls in 2806, in their campaign to defeat the Kretonians. At that time, it was known as New Kreton Prime. Since then, Ungstir Two has been our home."

Dykstra presses a button on the side of the dropship openning a small panel. A display lights up and chirps.

Falkenberg nods. "So the Nalls defeated the Kretonians? They are gone?"

Melissa growls a bit, "The Nalls do it again."

"There were people, frozen..." Fulton comments. "I don't remember which of the chunks they were on. What happened to them?"

Dykstra studies the panel closely, occasionally glancing down the length of the ship at the group.

MacDonald shakes his head slightly, "How in the world were the Nall able to gather enough military strength to defeat the Kretonians?"

Boromov says, "They are gone. The Kretonians were completely destroyed by the Nalls, and with some assistance from the Otherians as well."

Firemane's gaze tracks Dykstra as he moves around the ship. "Hey. Becareful, that things an antique." She calls to him, ignoring the conversation.

Dykstra glances at Firemane with a slight smile. "I was about to tell you people the same thing. you should look into some of the newer models."

Snowmist pays only an occasional notice to the conversation as she notices the Black Widow, casting Dykstra a last glance as she makes her way over to the other ship.

Dykstra returns his attention back to the display as it begins to chirp again.

Boromov says, "From what I understand, the Nalls rebelled against their Kretonian masters and captured many of their vessels. With these ships, along with the Clawed Fist Fleet they rebuilt, they launched a bloody campaign to remove the Kretonian scourge from our midsts."

Falkenberg looks at MacDonald. "The Krets had to h ave stretched themselves pretty thin, Mac." He looks at Boromov. "Can you tell us of the other worlds in this region? What of Quaquan, or Tomin Kora? And is there any word from Sol System?"

Snowmist boards the Black Widow.

Snowmist has left.

Firemane quirks a grin. "I'll convey that to the owner." She comments, keeping an eye on his actions, although one ear is turned towards Boromov.

MacDonald shrugs and nods, "I suppose. What about the Nalls, now? Are they still relishing in their conquest?"

Melissa turns and takes a few steps towards the commons, eyes now taking in the new ships before turning slowly to regard Boromov again.

Boromnov says, "If I were you comrade, I would avoid Earth and Mars. They've become quite xenophobic in recent years, and the Guardian fleet is known to shoot first, and ask questions later."

Dykstra steps back a bit, surveying the dropship a bit more. Mostly to himself, "Jeez. I would love to get into the guts of something this old. Bet I could squeeze 100 megawatts more per cycle outta her."

Falkenberg's mouth opens. "Guardian Fleet??" He looks at MAcDonald a moment, then back to Boromov. "What about Luna? What about my home?"

Snowmist exits from the Black Widow.

Snowmist has arrived.

Falkenberg blinks at himself for having characterized Luna in that way.

MacDonald frowns, "Mars and Earth?" He nods towards Falkenberg, "What about the rest of the Sol system? Jupiter?"

Melissa sees them speaking and turns once more, heading off towards the commons.

Firemane glances behind her, jaw dropping slightly. "Guard.." She trails off as Falkenberg speaks.

Melissa heads into City Commons .

Melissa has left.

Dykstra continues surveying the dropship. never pulling his gaze from it, "Hey. Is the mothership as run down as this one?"

Fulton frowns, listening carefully.

Boromo vays, "Luna is still perfectly intact, comrade. Although I would approach carefully...the Guardian fleet does not patrol within Luna's boundaries, but if you stray outside of it, you had best have a fast ship. I do now know how the Lunites do it sometimes."

Dykstra chuckles quietly to himself, moving closer to the dropship. He crouches down to get a look at the underside and lets out a low whistle.

Snowmist looks back toward the group as she steps off the Black Widow, frowning slightly as Melissa heads off on her own. With a last look toward the others, she moves off after the woman.

Snowmist heads into City Commons .

Snowmist has left.

MacDonald looks back at the technician again, the talk of improvements and old equipment distracting him.

Boromov looks to MacDonald, "If you refer to Ganymede, it was destroyed shortly after your departure."

Falkenberg frowns. "Tell us of this Guardian Fleet. Is it the new name of the Stellar Consortium navy? We knew them as the Vanguard.."

Dykstra rises back to his feet, shaking his head a bit.

Firemane frowns, not wanting to miss the conversation.. But.. She walks over to Dykstra. "She's not that bad, I admit she's not the best every.. But.."

Boromov says, "Vanguard? Now that is a name I have not heard for a long time.... a long time, comrade. Earth and Mars call themselves the Solar Consortium. The Guardian Fleet is their military. It is commanded by pure humans, but I have rumors that menial tasks such as soliders, pilots, and gunners are Specialists."

Dykstra shouts over to a nearby technician: "hey, you. grab that hose and haul it over here!" Turns back to look at the ship.

Dykstra looks over at Firemane. "you're kidding, right? How old is this thing?"

Falkenberg blinks. "Specialists?" He breathes a curse. "Mordecai's bloody prophecy was right...the Army of Many Faces, all the same. Earth started cloning again."

"She doesn't need fuel or power." Firemane says, addressing Dykstra. "Um... By your standards? 350 years or so, I think.."

MacDonald narrows his eyes, "Specialists? How.." He looks to Falkenberg and then back to Boromov, "What prompted them to commit that atrocity again?"

Dykstra frowns, focusing all his attention of firemane. "You ARE kidding, aren't you?"

Falkenberg looks at MacDonald. "I'd imagine you SAW what led them to it, Mac. The Invasion."

Boromov says, "I have never admitted to guessing how the bureaucratic mind of the Connies operates, comrade. They are a very secretive bunch."

Dykstra turns back to the ship. "I knew it was old, but..."

Falkenberg nods slowly. "What about the other Consortium worlds, or the rest of the Fringe? Are they like Demaria...devastated, primitive planets?"

Firemane still has one ear on the conversation behind her. "Nope. I mean, technically it's not a year old. But it's a 2652 model."

Dykstra studies the dropship closely, then turns back to Firemane. "You guys running a freighter out there or what?"

MacDonald shakes his head and mutters, "Surely we couldn't have been so desperate.."

Falkenberg glances at MacDonald. "Wake up and smell the new millenium, Mac."

Boromov says, "On the contrary, many of the other worlds are alive and well. Tomin Kora was obliterated, but the other worlds you knew as the Fringe are still intact and thriving. As far as Centauri, there is little I can tell you. They, too, are very xenophobic. They have been known to destroy civilian vessels just for skimming their border."

Firemane quirks a smile. "You could say that. You should see the Sanctuary. Biggest damn ship ever built."

Falkenberg winces and looks at Fulton. "Dahan...uh oh."

Fulton looks back and nods silently.

MacDonald nods slightly, "Yeah..too bad it's the stench of racism."

Falkenberg picks up his communicator.

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "Falkenberg to Endeavor, do you read?"

Dykstra glances past Firemane at the others, then back to Firemane. "Think I could go aboard and check her out? I'd love to get a look at the power system this thing uses."

Snowmist arrives from City Commons .

Snowmist has arrived.

Boromov says, "I take it from your reaction that some of your friends are on their way to Centauri?"

Melissa arrives from City Commons .

Melissa has arrived.

Boromov says, "If so, I would highly recommend dissuading them from such a course. It could be deadly."

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "Endeavor, we've been getting an earful of news on Ungstir. Recommend you do NOT, repeat, DO NOT approach Sol System at this time. Apparently, the Kretonians are gone, but humans have a tendency to blow up outsiders. So, for that matter, do Centauri. Be advised."

Firemane shakes her head. "Sorry, y'd have to clear that with the captain, and she's ill right now. But other ships will be this way, ask them."

Melissa wanders in after snowmist, eyes the slightest hint of red, her attention seems drawn by Falkenberg speaking into the comm-link, "Humans?"

Falkenberg nods to Boromov. "We had another ship going that way..." He listens. "They are reporting now...they've been to both Sol AND Centauri, and barely got out alive."

Boromov says, "They are quite lucky, comrade. Very lucky. They are among a very small minority."

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "Well, not all worlds are so inhospitable. We're getting news here on Ungstir. It seems we are welcome. And they know who we are."

Dykstra shakes his head. "Too bad. I've only read about technology this old. Bet i could work wonders with it."

Falkenberg nods. "So it would seem. Anyway...Tomin Kora is gone. What about the old space station, Nephthys?"

You say, "Of course, all are velcome on Ungstir! We have had our shares of rough times, yes, but that does not mean we should dispense with the social graces."

Snowmist sighs as she catches Dykstra's last comment. "In some areas, tech grows by leaps and bounds. On Demaria, we've been hammered back int' the stone age."

Falkenberg nods. "Thank you, sir."

Boromov says, "Nephthys? That too is a name I have nod heard spoken for quite a while. It was destroyed by the Kretonians during their initial invasion."

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "The Ungstiri tell us all are indeed welcome here, Dahan. We'll await your arrival."

Dykstra glances at Snowmist.

Firemane grins at Dykstra, but it falters as Snowmist speaks. "Indeed.. If you'll excuse me, I've got some catching up to do.." She moves back towards the main group, although one eye is kept on Dykstra.

MacDonald shakes his head, "I guess it'll be a while before I see Ireland again." He then turns to ask Melissa, "Find anything interesting?"

Falkenberg closes his communicator to pay more attention to Boromov. "Some of our companions will be coming shortly, and they claim to have made an important discovery. Involving this planet."

Dykstra turns to Snowmist, smiling. "Sorry ta hear it."

Melissa shakes her head slighlty, "Didn't go far." she glances towards Snowmist, "Got some wise advice."

Boromov says, "A discovery involving Ungstir? My curiousity is piqued, comrade."

MacDonald raises an inquiring eyebrow, "Really?"

Dykstra walks over to Snowmist. "I been studying this stuff my whole life. i couldn't live without it. best technician this place has ever had."

Snowmist flicks an ear in Boromov's direction at the news about Nephthys, and her expression grows a little flatter though she doesn't bother turning toward the Russian. Shrugging at Dykstra's words, she extends a hand. "We'll rebuild. Can't have you Ungstiris showing us up, neh? Snowmist."

Falkenberg looks at Melissa a moment, then turns to Boromov. "Yes...he said he may know where to find Ungstiri from our time. Alive, and on Ungstir."

Melissa looks towards Falkenberg and blinks, "From our time??"

Fulton listens into his commlink. "He means the cryogenically freezed people. Are they still around here?" This he asks Boromov.

Falkenberg nods to Melissa. "That's what Dahan said. He's on his way here. This is the first safe port he's found."

Dykstra looks at Snowmist. "Who's the pilot here? I'm just about to go on my break, but if anything needs to be worked on, I could do it for you."

Firemane frowns faintly. "What was that about the Guardian Fleet?" She asks.

Melissa shifts her eyes to Boromov looking for clarification.

MacDonald glances towards Dykstra, "If you aren't needed for a little bit, I'd like to have a discussion, if you're up to it?"

Snowmist shrugs, waving toward Firemane. "You were talkin' to her. Ship is Jest's though, and she's still back on Sanc."

Dykstra looks over at MacDonald, shrugging. "Sure. I'm over my scheduled time anyway."

Falkenberg flips on his comm again.

Boromov says, "There are quite a lot of caves on Ungstir, comrade. It would take an archeological expedition to search through them all, and that will require many permits."

Dykstra pulls a greasy rag from his pocket and wipes his hands.

MacDonald smiles slightly, "Thank you. I'm most curious as to what breakthrough's you've made in the past four hundred years."

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "Dahan, it may be a good idea to get word to Sanctuary NOT to approach either Centauri or Sol systems...our friends here say it is rare outsiders escape alive from either place. Apparently it IS possible to approach Luna safely, but very difficult."

Melissa asks, "So there's a chance some htings may be lefT?" her spirits seem to rise.

Fulton frowns, displeased with Boromov's answer. "I see."

Dykstra walks over to MacDonald. "You a mechanic?"

Boromov says, "All things are possible."

Firemane listens quietly. "If they're here, Dahan may well know exactly where they are."

Falkenberg chuckles at Boromov. "Well, the person coming here may be able to help with that. Dahan is a Centauri, and may be able to sense if there are people alive in one of the caves, and where, exactly, they are."

MacDonald nods slightly, "An engineer actually. I'm chiefly responsible for another ship about this size, though I also am a part of the Sanctuary's engineering staff."

Snowmist sits down on Asylum's boarding ramp, ears flicking alternately between the two conversations taking place around her, a pensive expression drawing over her face as she braces her elbows on her knees and perches her chin on laced fingers.

Dykstra stops short, frowning. "Sanctuary? You're joking..."

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "Yes, The Ungstiri tell us Earth has started cloning Specialists again. I can tell you, unless much has changed, Lunites would have no part of that."

Dykstra turns, surveying the group again, a perplexed look on his face.

MacDonald pauses, "No, actually..I'm not." He nods towards the Asylum, "You didn't think that ship was in that good of shape after four hundred years did you?"

Firemane catches Dykstra's words. "Like I said, wait till you *see* the Sanctuary.."

MacDonald blinks slightly at his communicator..

Falkenberg says into his commlink, "I only know what I've been told. Apparently the Guardian Fleet...the military force you no doubt encountered...is led by humans and crewed by specialists."

In the sky above, a dropship comes into view as it descends toward the surface.

Melissa spots Mist and walks towards her, "Got room on that ramp for one more?" she asks.

Dykstra turns back to MacDonald. "Didn't make much sense, no... ...the Sanctuary?" His expresion changes to one of realization. "That's why the lady kept saying it was hundreds of years old, but..how?"

Falkenberg smiles at the arriving ship. "They are here."

You take a step back as a dropship fires its drop rockets and lands before you.

MacDonald says into his commlink, "You know, whatever the rest of my race has done recently, Mr. Pendalis..I don't appreciate the racial comments."

Dykstra watches as the dropship comes in.

Falkenberg looks at MacDonald. "Don't mind the kid, Mac. He's an idiot." Obviously he's referring to something over the comm channel.

Snowmist smiles toward Melissa as she waves to her other side. "Of course."

MacDonald turns his attention back to Dykstra, "Somehow we jumped to another..universe. It had a differnt time frame, you might call it."

Melissa takes a seat carefully next to her, "Gotten ourselves into quite a mess huh." she sas surverying the room with more calm.

MacDonald shrugs, "I understand. I'm just afraid there may be more like him back on Sanctuary."

Pendalis exits from the Endeavor.

Pendalis has arrived.

Gunn exits from the Endeavor.

Gunn has arrived.

Pendalis hops down from the ship, glaring around.

Falkenberg looks at Boromov. "I hate to keep asking you questions...but...what about the Nalls?"

Fulton looks about, his eyes landing on the teleporter. Glancing back at Boromov, he asks, "Do Castori still use that?"

Melissa is seated on the Asylum's ramp next to Snowmist.

Gunn drops from the airlock, and looks around carefully.

Dahan exits from the Endeavor.

Dahan has arrived.

Firemane turns towards the Endeavor as it lands, nodding to the crew as they disembark.

Boromov looks to those coming off the Endeavor. "Velcome to Ungstir, comrades. I am Lord Boromov."

Dykstra looks at Macdonald closely. "Unreal. I'm no engineer, but I'd love to hear about all this." He pauses, his expression lighting up. "Can I get aboard the Sanctuary? Wow. It'd be like a technology museum."

Snowmist sighs, nodding. "Yeah, doesn' it seem so..."

Pendalis looks to Boromov, "Thank you sir."

Dykstra glances over at the new dropship.

Boromov looks to Falkenberg, "The Nalls? Not a group I would want to have a conversation with, but they are noticeably more tolerant. If you leave them alone, they will leave you alone. Many around here would prefer it that way."

Gunn smiles slightly, and walks over to the group. "Nice to meet you Lord Boromov. My Name's Gunn."

MacDonald chuckles, "I don't know if I like it being called a museum, but I tell you what. Give me a tour of one of the newer ships around here and I'll see what I can do."

Dahan floats down the boarding ramp of it's vessel, and stops near Boromov. 'We welcome your hospitality, Lord Boromov. I am Dahanovoheanipeymek, former president of the Stellar Consortium.'

Boromov nods to Dahan, "This is indeed an honor."

Melissa shifts as the place begins to fill with people, "Wanna go for a walk?" she asks.

Falkenberg frowns. "Well, we have some older-style Nalls on Sanctuary. Not so pleasant."

Dykstra glances across the pad for a moment. "Deal. I got another tramp-class sitting over there and I know for a fact her crew won't be needing her for a while.

Pendalis nods at Boromov, "Metasa Pendalis--Nobody special from Luna..."

Snowmist nods, standing. "Sure. Where to?"

Melissa shrugs slightly standing, "The mines? Or whatever they are now?"

Snowmist waves toward the exits. "Lead on."

Firemane watches everyone manuver about, tail slowly swishing from side to side as her brain digests the infomation that has been given to her.

Melissa turns and walks off towards the commons.

Melissa heads into City Commons .

Melissa has left.

Snowmist heads into City Commons .

Snowmist has left.

Falkenberg chuckles and hits himself in the forehead. "You know, Lord Boromir, you have been too polite, and we have not reciprocated. You've answered all my questions, and I never even introduced myself. I am John Christian Falkenberg. I used to spend a lot of time in these parts....not all of which I remember."

MacDonald grins, "Allright." He glances around the group once again, "Whenever you're ready, I'm sure they'll be busy catching up for a while yet."

Dahan accepts the comment without reply, except for a slightly downcast look in the way its tentacles and head hangs.

Dykstra nods, turning to walk across the pad. 'C'mon"

Pendalis pats Dahan before stepping forward, "Lord Boromov, What of Luna? What made Sol so hostile?"

Dykstra makes his way across the pad to a freighter.

Firemane flicks an ear and decides to follow the trend. "Firemane Stormrider." Spoken quietly, so as not to intrude on the infomation flow.

MacDonald follows along after Dykstra..

"Joe Fulton," he adds, falling once more silent.

Dykstra boards the Black Widow.

Dykstra has left.

MacDonald boards the Black Widow.

MacDonald has left.

Boromov says, "After the defeat of the Kretonians, the humans became incredibly xenophobic...they wanted nothing more to do with aliens. That is all I know. They built their Guardian fleet and attack any who tread into their territory."

Pendalis sighs, "Heard about the cloning. Again? I heard something about Luna becoming it's own nation, now...

Dahan sends, 'I suppose the same must have happened to my people as well. It still is heart breaking, to see millienia of pacifism thrown to the garbage bin of history, or to be considered a traiter.'

Boromov says, "That is correct. They maintained their independence, but its a shaky one. It is not easy maintaining a nation on the moon of a world which holds no love for your kind."

Falkenberg frowns. "Sounds like the difference is only one of degrees from what I remember growing up there."

Pendalis chuckles, "I'm a lunite, Lord Boromov."

Firemane remains silent, but the speed of her tail has picked up.

Dahan fidgets with the end of its tentacles, waiting for the right moment to ask a question.

Boromov says, "Despite all that has happened, you may all consider yourselves my guests. My people will be happy to assist you in whatever way they can."

Pendalis nods at Boromov, "Thank you for the information and your time, Lord Boromov."

Falkenberg nods. "I am curious, Lord Boromov. Where else could travelers like ourselves go without danger?"

Boromov says, "Sivad, Antimone, and Castor are still on the friendly side. Quaquan is still its peaceful, serene self. Vollista.....there is little known of it."

Firemane tilts her head to one side, digesting this infomation. "Why is little known of Vollista? Lack of travel? Or are they isolationist?"

Falkenberg nods. A different light enters his eyes. "What of commerce? It sounds like there are no over-arching military forces like we remember. Surely there must be many opportunities for those who are...entreprenuerial, and resourceful?"

Boromov says, "Many businesses operate among the open worlds. My sons, Ivan and Nikolai, run two of them."

Dahan nods slightly, 'I am also interested in the ways of commerce. Exile from my own people, it may be time for me to engage in the profession of my training. But would a Centauran vessel like mine be received in the minds of those who I would visit?'

Falkenberg smiles. "Oh yes? What sorts of businesses, if I may ask? I'm something of an old businessman myself, you see...used to do quite a lot of business out this way. I may want to get back into the fray, now that we are home."

Boromov says, "The wormhole which existed between here and Vollista collapsed many years ago. Contact with them since then has been very sporadic. Nikolai runs a thriving electronics manufacturing company, while Ivan operates Boromov Shipping."

Fulton listens quietly, atttively.

Pendalis nods, "Sounds Excellent."

Zetral exits from the Asylum.

Zetral has arrived.

Falkenberg purses his lips. "There must be a lot of regulations and permits required, with so many worlds now independent...." he says, curiously.

Dahan dips its head, 'Thank your for your assistance, Lord. If you'll pardon me, I grow fatigued.'

MacDonald exits from the Black Widow.

MacDonald has arrived.

Dykstra exits from the Black Widow.

Dykstra has arrived.

Pendalis follows Dahan

Boromov says, "Indeed, they are excellent businessmen. A pride to their heritage. The Boromovs have been a part of Ungstir's history since the very beginning, when my Great Grandfather, Lord Nikolai Boromov, settled with the original colonists."

Dahan enters an access code and boards the Endeavor.

Dahan has left.

Pendalis looks to Boromov, "I thank you for everything, Lord Boromov. I must depart."

You say, "Indeed. Each world operates it's own customs service and even uses different currencies. It is indeed a complicated system."

Dykstra walks back over towards the dropship.

Firemane nods quietly, still digesting infomation. "But one rich in potential."

Pendalis enters an access code and boards the Endeavor.

Pendalis has left.

Gunn nods, and makes his excuses as well. "I have to take those ttwo lugs back. See ya."

MacDonald follows behind Dykstra to the group..

Boromov nods, smiling a bit. "Rich indeed."

Falkenberg nods slowly. "Indeed. Are there other major military powers remaining? I assume that, as in our day, independent worlds like Ungstir keep a militia force of some sort fot their own defense..."

Zetral walks down the ramp, and over towards the group.

Gunn enters an access code and boards the Endeavor.

Gunn has left.

The wind suddenly picks up as the Endeavor fires its lift rockets and begins its climb upward.

MacDonald looks to Boromov and Falkenberg and the rest as he returns. He remains silent as the conversation continues on around him.

Boromov says, "Each planet still maintains a small defense force, but the only major military powers are the Guardian fleet and the Clawed Fist Fist, and they usually keep to themselves."

Falkenberg nods, smiling a bit more. "Good...good." He looks up. "I mean, it's good to know that things are relatively peaceful again."

"Speaking of military forces," MacDonald speaks up, "Have you ever heard of the West Virginia?"

Firemane mrrrrs softly. "Wonderful." She seems a touch annoyed and sarcastic.

Zetral speaks up as well, asking, "What ended up happening to Vanguard?

Firemane glances behind her and frowns, as if wondering where Zetral came from. She she steps up to him and mutters something.

Boromov says, "You mean the ship of Captain Richardson? He is very well one of the worst pirates the galaxy has ever known. He suddenly appeared about 5 years ago and quickly established himself as a pirate. I would recommend avoiding him if you come across him, he has a nasty temper."

Fulton's eyes widen and he can't help but to snort. "A Pirate! Well, what do you know."

MacDonald sighs slightly, "Great, just great. You know he's going to be thrilled when he hears we're back."

Falkenberg looks over at Zetral. "You finally awake? Missed a lot. The Vanguard is no more. Earth and Mars are their own little Consortium, patrolled by a hostile and xenophobic Guardian Fleet. Dahan's ship barely escaped alive."

Firemane mutters to Zetral, "... fell... 'specialists'... the Kretonians.... heard... gone,... what..."

Falkenberg chuckles. "A pirate. Well, I'm glad this region of space has not changed TOO much. Must be a wide-open field without the Guilds," he says, apparently more to himself than anyone else.

Zetral nods a bit at firemane and falkenburg, and then scracthes his chin. "I wonder what that makes me then....?" he wonders aloud.

Firemane shrugs. "A member of the Sanctuary Vanguard I guess, not that there is mu.." She glances around and trails off.

Fulton says, "What places does he frequently assault? Or is that too broad of a question? I take it he stays away from the Solar System, as to avoid confrontation with the Guardian Fleet."

MacDonald shoots a glance at Firemane, "Yes, we're not much..but we still are there."

"Never said you weren't." Firemane replies smoothly.

Boromov says, "He is as unpredictable as the striking of a snake. He is an opportunist.  Well, if you will excuse me, I must retire for the evening. I am an old man, and I tire easily. for now, make yourselves at home. Good day, comrades."

"Thank you, Lord Boromov," Fulton says, waving his hand faintly.

Zetral frowns a bit at the thought of having to watch over the large ship forever.

Boromov nods to the group, and begins walking for the door, his cane making a soft clack against the floor.

Falkenberg looks at Boromov. "Wait...one more question. Sagittarius."

Firemane executes a short bow as Boromov leaves. "Thank you."

Fulton looks at Falkenberg and whispers, "I would not advise that. Who knows what effect the Minds have had by now."

Boromov says, "Comrade, I am quite sure that the Hivers would not be too fond of your group. I would recommend avoiding that planet at all costs...unless of course you've made peace with your maker."

Yama exits from the Black Widow.

Yama has arrived.

Falkenberg glances at Fulton. "I know what I am doing." He nods to Boromov. "Yes, of course. I was just wondering. Thank you again for your hospitality, Lord Boromov."

Yama leaves the Widow with a thump, nodding to Lord Boromov.

Boromov nods, and continues on his way.