OOC: Oh, I also furiously roll Perception on them both. If I get my body into their personal space I also check (with body touch or eye sight) for the outline of noticeable things, like compads, keycards, pistols, arousal, etc. I also try to assess their comeliness and social savoir faire; how far can Jo-jo wrap either around her finger, and how guilty would she feel about it afterwards (kicking puppies makes Jolene sad).

Binov has been sitting half-turned in his chair to read the news updates and comments out loud, "вот это да, what's with those murders on Shaddai?"

[He mentally notes the D3ad4og concert as a must-do]

Montour and Baldwin are similarly plain-looking youths with fair-skin and dark hair, cut very short. Baldwin has a slightly tanner complexion. They have access badges dangling from their lapels--in fact the badge chains jingle when Jolene presses her finger into the men's chests. There are no visible weapons. There seems to be something shaped like a commpad in Montour's jacket pocket--Baldwin likely has the same. These two clearly have no social game, likely due to their restrictive upbringing on this "Asherah" place they refer to.

As Jolene pulls closer, it is clear that Baldwin is completely enamored with her now! Montour, on the other hand, winces subtly and stands up. "Ah, well yes, it has indeed been an eye-opening experience." He places a hand on Baldwin's shoulder protectively. "And I do thank you for the vodka," he says to Aleksandr.

Baldwin looks at his partner pleadingly, and Montour sighs briefly. "We are here for the next few days, so I suppose meeting again would be a nice way to pass the evenings," Montour says.

"I go off-shift at 1900 hours," Baldwin tells Jolene eagerly.

"Not tonight, though," Montour warns Baldwin. "The...thing...is tonight."

"The thing." Baldwin nods. "1900 hours...uh, tomorrow then," he suggests.

"A pleasure meeting you gentlemen," Alexsandr says with a smile as he holds up his shot glass in salute.

When the two young men are out of ear-shot Binov says to his partners, "I got a funny feeling when he alluded to a 'thing' tonight. Do you think a little clandestine observation and strategically asked questions might yield useful information?"

[I'm basically offering to use my stealth skills and criminal connections to find out what their organization is up to, if anything. That would probably require separating from the from the party for a few hours in the evening.]

"Sure thing, sugar. Never hurts to have a new friend. 'Til then!" and tips her julep, if she got it by then, otherwise one of the vodka shot glasses in their direction.

------------------- Wait a solid two minutes or so with idle banter and the whips out her compad for actual work. ------

"Poor babies, and even after I was a shameless hot mess." Miss Rydell puts her compad atop the bar and sits prim, searching immediately about Asherah, any relations to NME interests, the Iijima family, and battery prototype needs. "At least Montour surprised me a bit showing some caution. Figured me for a harlot I reckon; might grow some savvy one day."

In a more conspiratorial volume to Alexsandr & Blinov, "Access badges on lapels, no obvious concealed weapons, possible compad on Montour, and likely assume the same for Baldwin..." Jots notes to further look up any public info on spaceflights into or out of Qetesh this evening. Speaking to her allies without looking up from her research, "Something about time pressure, but what would the religion on Asherah want with all this?"

Stops abruptly, nods curtly to no one in particular, and turns a very serious face to Blinov. "I'm being right rude, getting lost in work again. I think your idea to tap your grapevine is a peach indeed." Back to smiling again, "I just don't want you hurt shadowing 'em, and we got less time than we thought. Alexsandr, got any notions on how to get a handle this?"

OOC: Need a roll for Asherah & NME/Iijima, and spaceflight activity?

"I think that doing some recon on this 'thing' tonight is a good idea," Alexsandr says as he pours himself another shot of vodka.

As he holds his glass up he muses, "Jolene is right, though.  There will probably be a black ops tactical team in the vicinity of this is really some clandestine.  We'll have to be careful, Blinov."

He slams the shot of vodka and wipes his chin with a satisfied look.

"Jolene," he continues, "should take the lead on our tail and then break off once we get sniff of where it's going down, and then we should move it to observe."

You bring up Asherah on Q-Net, but this info was last updated some time ago. Still, it seems complete. Asherah is an old Mandate world out of the Protectorate's reach. After the Protectorate chased the Concordat Holy Union to another region of space, Asherah came under the Union's rules. As noted by the men, laws are strict. The planet must me hemorrhaging their youth population, as young Asherans like Montour and Baldwin leave all the time to seek new opportunities. Asherah seems to have no interests aligned with NME, so it's likely just that NME's a means of escape for the sheltered lads.
(OOC: I don't necessarily want to say they're Space-Amish, but…they're Space-Amish but moreso…)

Jolene cross-references the Iijima family name to NME files, and Q-Net provides page after page of NME staff listings through the years, with the Iijima name on all of them. Their connection to NME dates all the way back to the days of Matsuri Zaibatsu, and all members have ended up being high-ranking, if not Board members themselves. Ran Iijima is daughter of current Board member Taito Iijima, so she'd have great expectations placed upon her.

It is 1600 (4pm) now. There is a single flight out of Q-Town tonight, at 1700, bound for capital planet Atlas. The next one is in the morning, 0900 hours, heading for Clio.

(OOC: Rolled for Culture/Asherah and Bureaucracy in the dice room on rolz.org)

Unless there is anything further to discuss, Binov slinks off to make discrete inquiries in the underworld (probably with his criminal skill), taking care not to probe too close or shadow anyone personally. This may net less useful information, but he's not up for tangling with knee-breakers yet. He's wiling to spend a few credits to loosen tongues, and if any really dicey choice comes up he'll contemplate using 1 psi point (but no more than 1) to precognitively assess it.

"Hmm, just may be natural big city lights drawing in the youngins from Asherah... NME and the Iijima family don't seem to tie in much with that land."

Quote from: Mr. Kent;747416It is 1600 (4pm) now. There is a single flight out of Q-Town tonight, at 1700, bound for capital planet Atlas. The next one is in the morning, 0900 hours, heading for Clio.

"The Atlas departure time's running as short as a mayfly thinking about shopping for new shoes, so I doubt Atlas being a lead. I'm gonna research anything about Clio relating to our topics; that's at 0900 hours." A worrying pinch is drawing on Jolene's face as she's rushing to isolate NME's Q-Town's facility as the likely spot for what's going down.

"I wonder... if I were to do something hush-hush on Qetesh, and it had to do with stuff that may blow up (battery tech), where would I go nearby Q-Town and then get it off-world as quick as a wink?" Looks back up to Alexsandr, "And you're gonna have to teach me one of these days how to be a bit more useful when outta the fryin' pan and into the fire. I'll worry about you two out there."

OOC: Likely a blind Culture roll on Clio, or a blind Research roll, GM feel free to secret roll it. Also a Culture/Qetesh roll, a bit more specialized around Q-Town and hiding spots. Also use either science or tech skill if Gm thinks it's necessary, along with knowledge of prototype schematics, to determine what sort of structure would be needed to perform a battery test. A bit of a hail mary pass to ensure there's nothing I'm overlooking nearby.

Culture/Qetesh roll is 2d6+INT+Skill+GM mod. So far, 10+1+0+?.

As for testing sites in and around Q-Town, you can't see too many options. The NME office, right near the spaceyard, has a rather large warehouse built next door relatively recently (within the last year or so), though if anything explodes within it would be quite noticeable.

Pulling up the plans for that NME warehouse, Jolene notices that the building's foundation is quite deep--much deeper than surrounding buildings within the domed city. Perhaps it has an off-the-books basement? Battery tests like the one you suspect to be scheduled tonight often require sturdier buildings than warehouses. Late Mandate-Era engineers often used defunct military bunkers for their tests. Something akin to your own Perimeter Base would be ideal, but you can't find anything like that on maps of Q-Town.

You find that Clio is still known in the Protectorate's core worlds as the "Banking Planet", home to the Exchange, a Mandate-Era federation of banks specializing in investments and venture capital. Now that the Protectorate has opened up insterstellar trade markets, new business firms spring up all the time, and they all need funding. Those seeking loans or investments travel to Clio, seek out a Consulate, and are often turned away disappointed.

***

Blinov slinks away to tap into the Qeteshi underworld. As he leaves the Golden Orb, he is passed by the pretty young lady with a briefcase, the one who met with the marine. With her gloved hands, the girl presses the marine's long thin pipe to her lips and tosses Blinov a wink. She blends into the crowd now heading for the spaceyard and is gone.

Seeking out the core of criminality in Q-Town, he finds it centered around the Stumbling Prairie Dog. Jolene was right to dismiss this place as a hellhole--its full of tough customers, even this early in the day. Nia Tran meets Blinov there, a former-street urchin acquaintance who fled Shaddai when other youths were being rounded up or sent to Waldo. Nia and Blinov were two of the lucky ones. She shrugs--NME's just a bunch of corporate tools to her, disgustingly bloated on their own wealth but harmless in the long run. Their local office isn't even open all the time (you realize this is likely due to the rotating supervisor position).

"I swear, Blinov--if there's any danger to Qetesh it isn't NME," she scoffs. "It's the inter-dome hostilities bubbling up. Like, did you even know that those inbred elitists in Jessup want their own spaceyard to rival Q-Town's?" She shakes her head. "To add insult to injury, they're even hosting the D3ad4og concert, even though their amphitheater isn't half as nice as ours! Bastards."

The muscle-bound and tattooed bartender might know more specific info but expects nice tips in measures of 20 credits, depending on the quality of intel desired.

Looking up open-eyed from her research, "Did the good doctor patent his prototype already? They'll be setting up to fly the prototype to Clio bankers right after. Or better yet have Clio reps here right now witnessing these test results.

"And NME's warehouse is next to the spaceport, with a strangely deep foundation — I bet they have a research basement!" She catches her ejaculation after 'I bet' and tightens it into a trailing whisper. A strand of her bleached hair falls over an eye, and she doesn't even seem to notice.

OOC: Making a Bureaucracy roll for how Clio bankers would handle this. Send a rep to witness, or expect delivery? Will make a second or third Bureaucracy check for whether Dr. Nadir properly patent his prototype, and any relevant business gossip out of Clio (where they see new battery tech futures).

"Alexsandr, I'm gonna go wander town then wait at the diner for a late supper (2300 hrs) and linger for a slice of pie and coffee. Here's so far my best guess at where'll be the 'church social.'" She starts to share the screen of her compad to Alexsandr, pointing out what she has so far gleaned. "I'm gonna leave you two to do your own thing, but you best keep in contact lest I eat all their damn pie and inflate my ass to the size of another Qetesh dome."

"Wish you and Blinov had compads, too. But my pappy and his brothers hated the darn things. Kept thinking it was a leash checkin' up on their doin's."

Blinov slides 20 credits to the bartender, reluctant to spend more; he needs to save his pennies if he wants to scalp his way into the D3ad4og concert the 'honest' way.

As he sips his Red Exile soda (molecular-enhanced artificial cherry flavor!) and listens to the info he decides it's high time he purchased a new compad to replace the one he dropped in the toilet. He'll pick one up on the way back to the party.

[I'll make the subtractions to my character sheet for the bribe and the compad]

"Alright," Alexsandr says to Jolene as he pours one last shot of vodka, "I will meet you at the diner.  I am going to go and visually inspect the spaceport and warehouse."

He slams down the last shot and pays the bartender for the bottle of vodka.  He takes the bottle with him as he leaves the Golden Orb.  He is going to and stroll around the spaceport to get a mental layout of the complex and also see the NME warehouse and any associated buildings.  

===================================

OOC:  How much does he owe for the bottle of vodka?

Blinov:

Ugh--that sour taste returns to your mouth briefly as the nano-taste-activator from the NovaStar interacts with the Red Exile. Your taste buds are going crazy! Thankfully, the effect is brief, and the rest of the can tastes just like smooth cherry.

The butch bartender snorts. "Secrets are found in the ground, kid," she grunts. "Nutrient-rich soil ain't the only thing Qetesh has to offer!"

She leans in closer. "A buncha local boys took jobs working for Newsun-Matsuri some weeks back. They weren't 'sposed to say nuthin' to non-employees, but they said their bosses took 'em deep down under, into the caves. You know there's a whole spiderweb o' caves down 'neath Qetesh's crust, eh? Was gonna ask 'em what they were workin' on, but--don'tcha know it! Them boys gone and disappeared."

She holds out her massive hand with a spider tattooed on the back. She holds it straight, and gradually begins to tremble. "Ev'ry once in a while you can hear a rumblin'. Most folks reckon its from the spaceyard, but I don't think so. It's a grumblin' in the ground. Sound like machines--big'uns. It's only gotten worse since that new NME lady got to town."

When you turn around you see that Nia has left in a hurry.

Jolene:

The bartender looks over briefly when he hears your outburst, but then turns to Aleksandr to settle up.

Consulates on Clio are generally quite proud, and also lazy. They are more likely to make finance-seekers come to them to beg for credits. However, if the investment opportunity is deemed important enough, they may send a representative to the site for a meeting. From the latest buzz, energy futures are up-up-up! You'd assume Clio would be eager to get into bed with NME, unless whatever they're up to is particularly risky.

The patent file for Nadir's x-cell battery is found in the public records, copies of those held up-to-date on Atlas.

Aleksandr:

The barman twirls his mustache. "Vodka is eight credits...normally," he says staunchly, then softens. "Well, what can I say--seeing you introduce those young pups to the wonders of vodka did my old heart good. We'll make it half-price today! Only five credits!" He begins to smile magnanimously.

The spaceyard and warehouse are luckily nearby, swarming with Protectorate cops of course. By the entrance looks like a familiar face--Spanner, the Agency's personal mechanic. In his hand he's got a bottle of his own, though you can't tell its contents from this distance.