Traveler and Black Sun
Traveler parked his Carbonado just off Westham Island Rd, (his blockchain owned the business on the water), and settled into Black Sun, his 7 meter canoe. His eyes soaked in her perfect lines; he smiled. They say material goods can't make you happy, but Sun made him smile. Sleek, black as pitch, a 5th generation top-of-her-class example of nanotube creation. Completely empty she was a mere 10 kilos, an impossible achievable until just this year. Well appointed and strong, whitewater ran deep in Adrian's DNA. Equipped with flotation and thigh braces in the hands of a skilled pilot, she was a big water dancer. Though Sun herself was new she was modeled after Adrian's previous boat, Black Rider, broken on the Cheat in high water when he lent it to a friend, at least his Norse paddles were saved.
Just a river paddle today lady, just the two of us, Sun. An afternoon paddle, fork left off the Frasier, North to the bird reserve. Maybe take a few pictures. He set the seat forward trimming the boat, lowering the bow so the headwinds wouldn't jerk the bow around, Bobbing, rolling, and pitching are the gifts the wind imparts to you and your paddle craft.
Norse paddle in hand, yes, one of the old ones, he swung out into the river. This was just a familiarization paddle. Even though Sun was from the same mold, there were enough changes that he wanted to know her feel before rigging her for sailing, he hadn't rowed her yet.
= = =
OK, OK, I need a break. That familiar feeling of too many moving pieces made Adrian tired. He leaned back in his office chair, palms up on the rests.
Yolanda smiled, "Its only the rest of your life. You've got Sun here, let's take her out for a good row. I have a picnic supper ready in the office. What do you say?" Yolanda smiled again, that special hula girl enchanting eye smile.
Pausing, Traveler though to himself. She was a good friend, they could both do with the exercise and a change of scenario, "Heck, rowing is part of the rest of my life, let's do this."
Sun could rig as a two-person oarcraft, sliding seats, the works. There was an ingenious extended oarlock that attached two the gunnels and pivoted the oar 40 cm outboard. It was a glorious day, perfect temp for exercise, they started at a fast, but sustainable pace upstream.
Rowing, for Traveler, was a sort of meditation. The movements were repetitive, muscle memory, his upper mind was free to wander. He started to think about something he had heard in a psych class XXX years ago. They were really learning about the Meyer-Briggs preferences, but had introduced it with a discussion of four animals.
Traveler knew at this point he was Lion/Beaver, one of the most overbearing of all personalities. He would gladly work the weekend, diving deep into numbers and maybe, if he met certain milestones, he would reward himself with some creativity time. His friends, doctor, priest all told him, he needed to get out, have some fun, as XXX put it, "live, life, out loud".
Yolanda however, Otter followed by more Otter. Having that focused a personality preference was rare, but she lived life large. He had a talk with her, about the future, responsibilities and the like, he hoped the conversation would go a bit deeper, maybe take on spiritual terms. Not hardly, that wouldn't be Yolanda.
Ironic, Traveler was supposed to meditate on living in the minute as part of his quiet time, close his eyes, become aware of his body, the sounds and smells. After ten or maybe fifteen minutes on a good day, he returned to his own surface, his way of thinking. Yolanda, lived in the moment, she never missed anything, on top of the moment, knew what to say. Her style of theater was improv. This made for a great friendship. Adrian, only dimly aware of the present, not inclined to invest the time "fun" took. And Yo, always up for a party for her to be the life of.
She said, "Monopoly. You buy hotels for Park Place and Boardwalk. Pass go, collect 200 BitCoin. Lather, rinse, repeat. The game ends, and all the hotels, tokens, and all the coin are swallowed by the sea of default as the app exits.
I read the Bible once, Ecclesiastes, hoping to meet my higher power. This guy Solomon, inherited an empire with all the trimmings. This is the wisest guy that ever lived, puts both of us on the bench. When he reflected on all that he had learned, done, whatever. He came to understand one thing matters, in the end, it all goes back in the box. Adrian, you are becoming that guy Solomon, vast holdings, king of carbon, it turns was more apt than Gizmo realized. I don't want to knock your belief system, but maybe, just maybe Adrian, now is all that you, I, anybody, has. So make sure to spend some time in it.
Traveler, Traveler, he startled out of his reverie when he heard Yolando's voice. Brother Adrian, I am at the half way point, prepare to turn. "Stokeside, bowside, aye." Boss, please don't think less of me, but I am too pooped to pop.
Yo, we have a small upgrade, for the overhead of two kilos the rudder is also a caterpillar drive.
Really, the magnetic field thing. I thought MHD drives were impractical, slow, pigs.
Traveler framed his response. "One out of three ain't passing. We are slow, but imminently practical since the power hog problem has been handled. Solid state, no moving parts, quiet as Red October. And slow is relative, it is about one oar station, it would get us home if neither of us rowed.
= = =
BZZZT, BZZZT, the phone was buzzing. Traveler was trying to come to the surface, dreams not wanting to fade away. Who could be calling; it's dark? Ah, text.
Amber: Get Out Now Intruders. Adrian was waking up, adrenaline starting to flow, intruders, why are the dogs quiet, muffled growl from XXX in her kennel. He released both dogs. "Buy me some time dogs, buy me some time." Task barred guards' vitals app, both zero, grey'd out. No calvary coming, means and motivation adversary.
Adrian: Not good, best chance of escape?
Amber: Black Sun.
That was interesting, his cabin was modeled after the one Branson rode the hurricane through on Necker Island way down South. But Amber directed him to flee to Black Sun.
Copy that, brain assuming flight over fight orientation. there was a plan already in place for most incidents, fortuna favet menti paratae, or something like that. He started to jump into his watersport tacticals, reminded himself if he was lucky he would spend more time on land than water, grabbed the plan C go bag. He set the timer on the complex to thirty seconds, talk about a diversion, made his way to the boathouse, pulled the slipknots, gave Black Sun a push, jumped in, shut the camo cover. He lay down in the floor of the boat, engaged Sun's caterpillar drive, steered with the thumb buttons under the gunnel. Just then the world exploded, BANG, many things that were before were no longer, he just hoped nothing too big landed on him. Fifteen seconds later he knew he would still be alive, at least for the moment.
Traveler: "in motion"
Amber: "Steer ordinal NW for 762M, center of the water, then we will see if we can cut through to the main Northern channel. I am working on a pickup, Black UL that can make a water pickup. Needless to say that is going to cost you, but I assume you authorize the expense."
"For sure, shoot me the address of the pickup when you get it."
= = = Picked up my Smugglerine
Captain Manso was lolling on the Smugglerine CuckooSession deckchair. The cloud cover blowing in from the Pacific muted the sun, but it was still warm, no chance of rain, smoke from the wildfires pushed East for the moment. His beloved Rott was sleeping, nocturnal Quokka, (he worked the night shift), that had accidentally been misplaced from his original home on Rottnest when he was 9 months old. His mother had been treated with an experimental vaccine against marsupial muscular dystrophy which either had, or had not, been responsible for Rott's incredible dexterity, (he was in the 99th percentile of Quokkas).
BZZZT, partly interested, partly annoyed, phone was just out of reach and it would take him a few minutes to revive his arthritic hands.
ROTT TOUCH PHONE. Rott wasn't usually deeply asleep. He would lay on his side, eyes appear closed, till any smell, sound, or movement changed, then he was in the moment, all senses online. Rott wasn't in a hurry, but quick, before the third buzz, Rott taskbar'd the alert. Rott peered at the screen, Captain watched, entertained, everyone knows Quokkas can't read, he was mimicking human behavior. Time to engage the human behavior.
BRING PHONE, Rott picked it up and walked over to him. Black UL App alert. OK. Manso's Coin burn rate was so slow he could easily live a month or more on a simple pickup, this had both the priority rate and stealth boxes checked. 49.108335, -123.119343, shoots he could do that in his head, it was just to the South, if he left right now he could be there within three hours even in stealth mode. Manso folded his chair, called Rott and went inside to prepare to dive. No need to pick up the Dungeness pots in the Frasier, be back soon to trade a mess of crabs for a hot savory cooked meal.
ROTT COMPRESS AIR, the furry little guy pressed the Compress button one time, 25% of the air in the bubble would be captured and sent to tank. Manso, released the mooring ball letting the chain fall to the bottom, mooring was illegal this close to the airport, no buoy for him. Cuckoo drifted for a few seconds, while he got a feel for the current and wind, then power. At 7 fathoms, Rott COMPRESS AIR, pressing the button again could balance about 50% of the air in tanks, remainder in the bubble trimmed for the current depth. The smugglerine could dive fairly deep, but less depth, less wear and tear, no war, not smuggling, person and cargo pickup, periscope depth seemed like a good choice.
= = =
Traveler was not fully alone, NPs always kept an eye on their neighbor. Three adversaries had managed to enter his compound, the alarms missed them, they got the guards, dogs too, (though that wasn't free on their part), none of the attackers survived the blast. NPs just watched, Krista's directions were explicit: observe, report, avoid contact; one good turn indeed.
= = = Eagle and the drone
Besides, they had a drone, high in the sky it could monitor the situation on the ground while they lived the life of ease, (or at least stayed current in their quiet time meditations). Only one problem, Swooping down from above, a local bald eagle had her water front perch right under the flight path of the soon to be doomed drone. She put up with being harassed by ravens, having prey duck dive just before she swooped them up, but overflights were out of the question. She used her talons to punch a hole in the carbon fiber and Kevlar fuselage of the NP drone, which lost control and plummeted to the ground. The eagle smiled, all in a days work, queen of the air.
Actually, this should have only been a bit of a surprise. Birds all over the world have attacked drones, in fact the pesky ravens that put this eagle in such a foul mood are particularly eager to engage in dogfights, forcing operators into loops, steep climbs, or running for cover with pedal to the metal to outrun them.
But ravens are limited in the damage they can cause, a 4 kilo eagle with an attitude is not. The NPs reported the loss of the asset. Tthe message was encrypted, but the fact an encrypted message was sent to an address probably associated with the Neo-Puritans was information Amber AI could and did use. To keep tracking Adrian they would have to cross the river and that was almost impossible to do without a sensor observing it.
After a few hundred meters Adrian pulled the camo cover back the wind on his face felt great, he was scared, in trouble, but alive. Maybe the blast had wasted the bastards that had tried to take him out. Attribution was the trick if he lived, you could not blindly strike back, might hit the wrong group. Despite all of his life long efforts to live below the radar line it was impossible to amass a multinational carbon fiber, sport transportation, medical device, pharmaceutical and consumer packaged goods conglomerate without someone noticing.
Traveler could hear Ripple, Grateful Dead playing in the background, he started to lose himself to the music.
Snap! None of that mattered if he got caught, if he missed the pickup. 300 meters to go. Night vision wasn't part of plan C, neither was a gun, and who knew, neither were his guards. Without dark eyes, not sure if he could find the turn. Hoped there was enough water to stay in channel. Once again the number of variables couldn't be counted. A world of possibilities, but only a few of them led to him still being alive. The meters counted down. Got to be here somewhere, he though. Funny thing about dark, it is dark. There are slightly lighter patches of dark, but it was still dark. Not enough water flow to locate the inlet by sound, unless he could create the sound.
Amber, do you have an app that can make a blast of sound and build a map of it, I can't find the inlet. Text: bring up you compass app wait 10 seconds, add 10 degrees, lather, rinse, repeat.. if we hit 110 we've gone too far.
Ordinal ENE between 60 and 70 was the winner. He found the inlet and eased in.
On the Western shore the NPs went silent still. They weren't supposed to follow across the river, instead, head back to the bridge and join the group assembled there. For now, Krista was most interested in anything that crossed the bridge. If it looked like an assault team, intrusively intervene.
The first hints of the sunrise were starting, another Pacific Northwest cloudless fall day, but he could intuit some of the shore. That made it much easier to stay in the channel as Adrian worked his way ENE.
The sun had fully risen when Amber text him with the pickup, 49.108335, -123.119343. He was close. Amber had managed to arrange a ride, amazing what a 1,000 coin could buy. Adrian had heard of smugglerines, but had never seen one.
Where are we going Amber?
South, you have a lot of infrastructure in Seattle, they will want to drop you off at night in a lower population, stay tuned, working out the details.
Traveler's Black UL five minute alert, he peered into the river, slow moving periscope can be hard to spot. Whoops, he still had the camo cover blinds shut. Apparently, the Captain knew that and texted, "just open them a little wider so people can see what's in between."
The smugglerine was amazingly large, Black Sun fit in the cargo areas, though it was a bit crazy getting her through the hatch, she got a scuff on the starboard gunnel just below the aft rigger connector. Badge of honor girl, no way that is getting buffed out.
When the smoke cleared, neither Adrian nor the NPs found anything remotely suspicious cross the bridge either entering or leaving Westham Island. They left eyes on for three more days, zero, zip, nada.
"Sir, drop off is in an hour"
I'll be ready.
Traveler texted Amber, what do these smugglerines cost?
Million coin for the hull, they get you with the accoutrements, but they need top quality carbon in the worst way.
Hmm, integrative bargaining. Start modeling a negotiation, when I get back in the office let's sort out the ZOPA, (Zone of Possible Agreements). I betcha they need more than just coin and raw carbon.
Just a river paddle today lady, just the two of us, Sun. An afternoon paddle, fork left off the Frasier, North to the bird reserve. Maybe take a few pictures. He set the seat forward trimming the boat, lowering the bow so the headwinds wouldn't jerk the bow around, Bobbing, rolling, and pitching are the gifts the wind imparts to you and your paddle craft.
Norse paddle in hand, yes, one of the old ones, he swung out into the river. This was just a familiarization paddle. Even though Sun was from the same mold, there were enough changes that he wanted to know her feel before rigging her for sailing, he hadn't rowed her yet.
= = =
OK, OK, I need a break. That familiar feeling of too many moving pieces made Adrian tired. He leaned back in his office chair, palms up on the rests.
Yolanda smiled, "Its only the rest of your life. You've got Sun here, let's take her out for a good row. I have a picnic supper ready in the office. What do you say?" Yolanda smiled again, that special hula girl enchanting eye smile.
Pausing, Traveler though to himself. She was a good friend, they could both do with the exercise and a change of scenario, "Heck, rowing is part of the rest of my life, let's do this."
Sun could rig as a two-person oarcraft, sliding seats, the works. There was an ingenious extended oarlock that attached two the gunnels and pivoted the oar 40 cm outboard. It was a glorious day, perfect temp for exercise, they started at a fast, but sustainable pace upstream.
Rowing, for Traveler, was a sort of meditation. The movements were repetitive, muscle memory, his upper mind was free to wander. He started to think about something he had heard in a psych class XXX years ago. They were really learning about the Meyer-Briggs preferences, but had introduced it with a discussion of four animals.
- The Lion. Fierce, aggressive, decisive, task focused to a fault, goals were first, people second and so forth.
- The Otter. Fun loving, creative, often at the head of the line in more ways than one.
- The Beaver. Detail oriented, focused on the numbers, data before intuition, some people used an impolite word to describe them.
- The Golden Retriever. Loving, cuddle friend, loyal, curious.
Traveler knew at this point he was Lion/Beaver, one of the most overbearing of all personalities. He would gladly work the weekend, diving deep into numbers and maybe, if he met certain milestones, he would reward himself with some creativity time. His friends, doctor, priest all told him, he needed to get out, have some fun, as XXX put it, "live, life, out loud".
Yolanda however, Otter followed by more Otter. Having that focused a personality preference was rare, but she lived life large. He had a talk with her, about the future, responsibilities and the like, he hoped the conversation would go a bit deeper, maybe take on spiritual terms. Not hardly, that wouldn't be Yolanda.
Ironic, Traveler was supposed to meditate on living in the minute as part of his quiet time, close his eyes, become aware of his body, the sounds and smells. After ten or maybe fifteen minutes on a good day, he returned to his own surface, his way of thinking. Yolanda, lived in the moment, she never missed anything, on top of the moment, knew what to say. Her style of theater was improv. This made for a great friendship. Adrian, only dimly aware of the present, not inclined to invest the time "fun" took. And Yo, always up for a party for her to be the life of.
She said, "Monopoly. You buy hotels for Park Place and Boardwalk. Pass go, collect 200 BitCoin. Lather, rinse, repeat. The game ends, and all the hotels, tokens, and all the coin are swallowed by the sea of default as the app exits.
I read the Bible once, Ecclesiastes, hoping to meet my higher power. This guy Solomon, inherited an empire with all the trimmings. This is the wisest guy that ever lived, puts both of us on the bench. When he reflected on all that he had learned, done, whatever. He came to understand one thing matters, in the end, it all goes back in the box. Adrian, you are becoming that guy Solomon, vast holdings, king of carbon, it turns was more apt than Gizmo realized. I don't want to knock your belief system, but maybe, just maybe Adrian, now is all that you, I, anybody, has. So make sure to spend some time in it.
Traveler, Traveler, he startled out of his reverie when he heard Yolando's voice. Brother Adrian, I am at the half way point, prepare to turn. "Stokeside, bowside, aye." Boss, please don't think less of me, but I am too pooped to pop.
Yo, we have a small upgrade, for the overhead of two kilos the rudder is also a caterpillar drive.
Really, the magnetic field thing. I thought MHD drives were impractical, slow, pigs.
Traveler framed his response. "One out of three ain't passing. We are slow, but imminently practical since the power hog problem has been handled. Solid state, no moving parts, quiet as Red October. And slow is relative, it is about one oar station, it would get us home if neither of us rowed.
= = =
BZZZT, BZZZT, the phone was buzzing. Traveler was trying to come to the surface, dreams not wanting to fade away. Who could be calling; it's dark? Ah, text.
Amber: Get Out Now Intruders. Adrian was waking up, adrenaline starting to flow, intruders, why are the dogs quiet, muffled growl from XXX in her kennel. He released both dogs. "Buy me some time dogs, buy me some time." Task barred guards' vitals app, both zero, grey'd out. No calvary coming, means and motivation adversary.
Adrian: Not good, best chance of escape?
Amber: Black Sun.
That was interesting, his cabin was modeled after the one Branson rode the hurricane through on Necker Island way down South. But Amber directed him to flee to Black Sun.
Copy that, brain assuming flight over fight orientation. there was a plan already in place for most incidents, fortuna favet menti paratae, or something like that. He started to jump into his watersport tacticals, reminded himself if he was lucky he would spend more time on land than water, grabbed the plan C go bag. He set the timer on the complex to thirty seconds, talk about a diversion, made his way to the boathouse, pulled the slipknots, gave Black Sun a push, jumped in, shut the camo cover. He lay down in the floor of the boat, engaged Sun's caterpillar drive, steered with the thumb buttons under the gunnel. Just then the world exploded, BANG, many things that were before were no longer, he just hoped nothing too big landed on him. Fifteen seconds later he knew he would still be alive, at least for the moment.
Traveler: "in motion"
Amber: "Steer ordinal NW for 762M, center of the water, then we will see if we can cut through to the main Northern channel. I am working on a pickup, Black UL that can make a water pickup. Needless to say that is going to cost you, but I assume you authorize the expense."
"For sure, shoot me the address of the pickup when you get it."
= = = Picked up my Smugglerine
Captain Manso was lolling on the Smugglerine CuckooSession deckchair. The cloud cover blowing in from the Pacific muted the sun, but it was still warm, no chance of rain, smoke from the wildfires pushed East for the moment. His beloved Rott was sleeping, nocturnal Quokka, (he worked the night shift), that had accidentally been misplaced from his original home on Rottnest when he was 9 months old. His mother had been treated with an experimental vaccine against marsupial muscular dystrophy which either had, or had not, been responsible for Rott's incredible dexterity, (he was in the 99th percentile of Quokkas).
BZZZT, partly interested, partly annoyed, phone was just out of reach and it would take him a few minutes to revive his arthritic hands.
ROTT TOUCH PHONE. Rott wasn't usually deeply asleep. He would lay on his side, eyes appear closed, till any smell, sound, or movement changed, then he was in the moment, all senses online. Rott wasn't in a hurry, but quick, before the third buzz, Rott taskbar'd the alert. Rott peered at the screen, Captain watched, entertained, everyone knows Quokkas can't read, he was mimicking human behavior. Time to engage the human behavior.
BRING PHONE, Rott picked it up and walked over to him. Black UL App alert. OK. Manso's Coin burn rate was so slow he could easily live a month or more on a simple pickup, this had both the priority rate and stealth boxes checked. 49.108335, -123.119343, shoots he could do that in his head, it was just to the South, if he left right now he could be there within three hours even in stealth mode. Manso folded his chair, called Rott and went inside to prepare to dive. No need to pick up the Dungeness pots in the Frasier, be back soon to trade a mess of crabs for a hot savory cooked meal.
ROTT COMPRESS AIR, the furry little guy pressed the Compress button one time, 25% of the air in the bubble would be captured and sent to tank. Manso, released the mooring ball letting the chain fall to the bottom, mooring was illegal this close to the airport, no buoy for him. Cuckoo drifted for a few seconds, while he got a feel for the current and wind, then power. At 7 fathoms, Rott COMPRESS AIR, pressing the button again could balance about 50% of the air in tanks, remainder in the bubble trimmed for the current depth. The smugglerine could dive fairly deep, but less depth, less wear and tear, no war, not smuggling, person and cargo pickup, periscope depth seemed like a good choice.
= = =
Traveler was not fully alone, NPs always kept an eye on their neighbor. Three adversaries had managed to enter his compound, the alarms missed them, they got the guards, dogs too, (though that wasn't free on their part), none of the attackers survived the blast. NPs just watched, Krista's directions were explicit: observe, report, avoid contact; one good turn indeed.
= = = Eagle and the drone
Besides, they had a drone, high in the sky it could monitor the situation on the ground while they lived the life of ease, (or at least stayed current in their quiet time meditations). Only one problem, Swooping down from above, a local bald eagle had her water front perch right under the flight path of the soon to be doomed drone. She put up with being harassed by ravens, having prey duck dive just before she swooped them up, but overflights were out of the question. She used her talons to punch a hole in the carbon fiber and Kevlar fuselage of the NP drone, which lost control and plummeted to the ground. The eagle smiled, all in a days work, queen of the air.
Actually, this should have only been a bit of a surprise. Birds all over the world have attacked drones, in fact the pesky ravens that put this eagle in such a foul mood are particularly eager to engage in dogfights, forcing operators into loops, steep climbs, or running for cover with pedal to the metal to outrun them.
But ravens are limited in the damage they can cause, a 4 kilo eagle with an attitude is not. The NPs reported the loss of the asset. Tthe message was encrypted, but the fact an encrypted message was sent to an address probably associated with the Neo-Puritans was information Amber AI could and did use. To keep tracking Adrian they would have to cross the river and that was almost impossible to do without a sensor observing it.
After a few hundred meters Adrian pulled the camo cover back the wind on his face felt great, he was scared, in trouble, but alive. Maybe the blast had wasted the bastards that had tried to take him out. Attribution was the trick if he lived, you could not blindly strike back, might hit the wrong group. Despite all of his life long efforts to live below the radar line it was impossible to amass a multinational carbon fiber, sport transportation, medical device, pharmaceutical and consumer packaged goods conglomerate without someone noticing.
Traveler could hear Ripple, Grateful Dead playing in the background, he started to lose himself to the music.
Snap! None of that mattered if he got caught, if he missed the pickup. 300 meters to go. Night vision wasn't part of plan C, neither was a gun, and who knew, neither were his guards. Without dark eyes, not sure if he could find the turn. Hoped there was enough water to stay in channel. Once again the number of variables couldn't be counted. A world of possibilities, but only a few of them led to him still being alive. The meters counted down. Got to be here somewhere, he though. Funny thing about dark, it is dark. There are slightly lighter patches of dark, but it was still dark. Not enough water flow to locate the inlet by sound, unless he could create the sound.
Amber, do you have an app that can make a blast of sound and build a map of it, I can't find the inlet. Text: bring up you compass app wait 10 seconds, add 10 degrees, lather, rinse, repeat.. if we hit 110 we've gone too far.
Ordinal ENE between 60 and 70 was the winner. He found the inlet and eased in.
On the Western shore the NPs went silent still. They weren't supposed to follow across the river, instead, head back to the bridge and join the group assembled there. For now, Krista was most interested in anything that crossed the bridge. If it looked like an assault team, intrusively intervene.
The first hints of the sunrise were starting, another Pacific Northwest cloudless fall day, but he could intuit some of the shore. That made it much easier to stay in the channel as Adrian worked his way ENE.
The sun had fully risen when Amber text him with the pickup, 49.108335, -123.119343. He was close. Amber had managed to arrange a ride, amazing what a 1,000 coin could buy. Adrian had heard of smugglerines, but had never seen one.
Where are we going Amber?
South, you have a lot of infrastructure in Seattle, they will want to drop you off at night in a lower population, stay tuned, working out the details.
Traveler's Black UL five minute alert, he peered into the river, slow moving periscope can be hard to spot. Whoops, he still had the camo cover blinds shut. Apparently, the Captain knew that and texted, "just open them a little wider so people can see what's in between."
The smugglerine was amazingly large, Black Sun fit in the cargo areas, though it was a bit crazy getting her through the hatch, she got a scuff on the starboard gunnel just below the aft rigger connector. Badge of honor girl, no way that is getting buffed out.
When the smoke cleared, neither Adrian nor the NPs found anything remotely suspicious cross the bridge either entering or leaving Westham Island. They left eyes on for three more days, zero, zip, nada.
"Sir, drop off is in an hour"
I'll be ready.
Traveler texted Amber, what do these smugglerines cost?
Million coin for the hull, they get you with the accoutrements, but they need top quality carbon in the worst way.
Hmm, integrative bargaining. Start modeling a negotiation, when I get back in the office let's sort out the ZOPA, (Zone of Possible Agreements). I betcha they need more than just coin and raw carbon.
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