MEET THE CREW - THE PAW OF PROFIT - FIVE PARSECS

 MEET THE CREW OF THE FREE TRADER "THE PAW OF PROFIT"

The crew of the merchant cruiser "The Paw of Profit" is an unlikely assortment of lovable rogues, each hailing from a secretive or otherwise questionable past.  The ship's captain, Raglah T'Rag, has recruited each of them for their particular and unique abilities.  Half of them are on the run from the law or otherwise unable to show themselves in public without false identities or diplomatic clearance, but fortunately the crew has the means to create or acquire such documents.  This does not mean that the crew is safe from any bounty hunter who might recognize or otherwise suspect that these are wanted individuals.

Reactions     1

Speed                  4"

Combat Skill      +0

Toughness            3

Savvy                +0

LUCK:                1

EQUIPMENT: Boarding Saber, Shotgun,     Communicator

Raglah was born on Uvena, a Unity protectorate world.  He is of the Feral species known as Vargr in their own tongue.  Raglah's parents were members of the Merchants' Guild, so he traveled frequently as a young pup.  By coming into contact with the people of many worlds and species, his family taught him that this was the true essence of trade.  He learned the importance of understanding a society and its culture, for this was the way to know what they wanted and valued.  As such, he has developed a shrewd mind for trading and finance.  When his parents died, his sizeable inheritance included the merchant cruiser known as "the Paw of Profit" (along with its equally sizeable debt).  What he needed, however, was a crew - and what better place than starport bars to find people looking for reliable work, travel, and adventure?

Reactions             1

Speed                   4"

Combat Skill      +0

Toughness            3

Savvy                 +0

EQUIPMENT: Military Rifle

        Kadyn Halcorr grew up on New Deseret, an colony world belonging to an esoteric religious cult known as The Envoys.  Founded upon ancient spiritualist texts, The Envoys are philosopher priests who seek Unity, not as a political concept but as a spiritual aspiration.  An important coming-of-age tradition is for each youth to undertake a pilgrimage, returning to their home world only after receiving their own personal epiphany.  The Envoys believe that this journey of self-discovery and the insights shared by the returning pilgrims will strengthen their society's collective understanding of The Word.

Kadyn chose a path that was uncommon but not unheard of, and joined the Diplomatic Corps as a Chaplain.  However, when his term of enlistment was over, he did not return to New Deseret, for his vision was of a life as a missionary among the many worlds of the Fringe.  Seeking passage, he was approached by Raglah, who promptly hired him to handle licensing issues and negotiate trade contracts.  While violence is generally a last resort to him, Kadyn is not a pacifist and his years of Federal service taught him that sometimes, "gun barrel diplomacy" is the only effective response.

Reactions            2

Speed                 4"

Combat Skill    +2

Toughness  3

Savvy  +0

EQUIPMENT:    Stealth Gear,

Marksman's Rifle (Seeker Sight, Stabilizer)

The soldier known only by the callsign "Ghost" comes from a harrowing past.  He is a Limonian, a race which possesses an ability similar to the teleportation power exhibited by Stalkers.  Limonia is a war-ravaged world, with irradiated lands and toxic skies from centuries of conflict.  Aside from a few small dome cities on the surface, the inhabitants live in vast underground warrens.  Ghost joined the resistance movement against the forces that attempted to conquer his homeworld.  An exceptional marksman and a stealthy hunter, Ghost found his calling as a sniper.  He and his fellow insurgents used their ability to "Shadow-Step" to great effect, attacking from one position and fading out of sight, only to appear almost impossibly in another location a moment later.

Having driven the occupiers from their world, some Limonians have ventured out into the galaxy, plying their skills to seek fame and fortune.  Ghost is no different and has found success as a gun for hire.  His particular skills were of great interest to Raglah, who hired him as a bodyguard.  Woe to any who try to double-cross the crew, for they will be met with shots out of the darkness, seemingly from all directions.  Ghost is a being of few words, and while he does not dislike his crew mates, he tends to keep to himself when not on a mission or task.

Reactions            3

Speed                 4"

Combat Skill     +0

Toughness           3

Savvy                +3

EQUIPMENT:   Machine Pistol, 

AI Companion ("Max")

         Rumors and allegations abound, but little actual information is known about the individual called BLANK-REG.  Even the most thorough research would never yield his real name, the date or world of his birth, or his employment history.  His behaviors and proficiencies are indicative of an upbringing in the Tech Guilds, and rumors say that the man now known as Reg was ostracized from the Guild on suspicion of corporate espionage and embezzlement.  In order to avoid prosecution and imprisonment, Reg absconded and erased his prior existence from the Net - overwriting his files in governmental databases with a blank registry.  As a "blank", he does not officially exist, and has adopted the name "Reg" from the only line of data that remains on his file: "BLANK-REG".  No longer in possession of Guild credentials, he is unable to seek legitimate employment with reputable corporations.  This suits him just as well, for extra-legal opportunities abound for a man with his skills and abilities.  However, the money never seems to last, as Reg prefers to spend it on intoxicants and Companions.

While Raglah had already procured the services of a legitimate negotiator by hiring The Padre, he also realized that it might sometimes be necessary to "bend the law" in order to procure the best business opportunities.  Thanks to both of these crew members, The Paw of Profit possesses trade and travel permits of both the official and unofficial varieties.

Species: Feral

(uplifted Chimpanzee)

Reactions            2

Speed                  5"

Combat Skill     +0

Toughness            3

Savvy                +0

EQUIPMENT:    Handgun, Blade

        Link is a member of a Feral species that was uplifted from Chimpanzees many centuries ago.  His troop lived on Pan IV, a jungle world that serves as a Unity research facility.  His species (commonly called "Chimps" by society at large) often served as test subjects for behavioral science and biological studies.  Generally, the Chimps are unwilling test subjects, even though most of the research is not directly harmful to the participants.  When a corporate security team discovered his troop and attempted to capture some of them for study, the adults of the troop fought back and were killed.

Without a community to raise him, Link was taken in as a foundling of the Orphan Utility Program.  Little is known of its purpose or methods but it is generally believed that this organization was designed to indoctrinate its young members to serve in whatever useful capacity Unity might have in mind.  Link was being trained as a government operative and was given the new code name "Lancelot".  In addition to infiltration and other covert skills, Lancelot was trained in sign language, as this was more effective means of communicating with the research teams than the Chimps' limited and sometimes primitive grasp of the common Galactic language.

However, a chance encounter with one of the program's sociobiologists would change Link's life and his destiny.  Now on the run, Link has rejected the name given to him by Unity and seeks only to travel as far beyond the reach of the government as possible.  He and Frankie share a life-bond of loyalty and only the most exceptional circumstances could separate them.

Species: Pure-Strain Human

Reactions            1

Speed                  4"

Combat Skill     +0

Toughness           3

Savvy                +2

EQUIPMENT:    Rattle Gun

Francesca Franklin grew up on a space station orbiting the jungle world designated Pan IV.  She took great interest in its indigenous inhabitants and knew from an early age that she wanted to study and work with them.  Unlike most of her peers, she did not see the Chimps as ignorant savages, but as people that shared many of the same values and beliefs as humans - the importance of the family unit, the mutual benefit of a collective society, and perhaps most importantly, thier own feelings and aspirations.

Frankie was a diligent student, eventually earning Doctorate degrees with High Honors in sociobiology and xenobiology.  Able to sign to any posting she desired, Frankie chose to return home to Pan IV to work with the Chimps among whom she grew up.  Her official duties included field study of the indigenous troops as well as education and upbringing of foundlings whose parents had been lost to disease, fatal injury, conflict with other troops, or any other reason.  It was here that she met Lancelot, the test subject she has come to regard as a friend and nearly a sibling.

  Eventually, Frankie discovered that the public goals of the Orphan Utility Program concealed a more unethical and nefarious purpose.  She worked secretively to undermine the program, biding her time until the opportunity to free her charges finally came.  She assisted Lancelot in breaking out of the facility.  During their escape, the Chimp had need to use many of the special skills in which he had been trained.  Needless to say, his given name was not the only thing Link left for dead as they fled.  Knowing that neither of them could safely return to so-called "civilized" society, Frankie and Link try to always stay one step ahead of pursuit.  While she has no formal training or certification as a medical practitioner, Frankie is the closest thing to a doctor among the crew.

FREE TRADER    "THE PAW OF PROFIT"

Unreliable Merchant Cruiser 

Hull Points:         30                                        Debt:                    23

EQUIPMENT:    Fake ID, Sector Permit       STASH:         Auto Rifle (2)

Cash:             23 credits                              Story Points:       10

RIVALS:             1                                          PATRONS:          3

Rumors:     1

STARGRAVE GAME ONE: THE OVERGROWN FACTORY

FFS BOHICA, CAPTAIN'S LOG: Stardate 2110.15, Jarl Ingulf Krestursson reporting.

Planetfall on Birdwood IV. The predominant biome is tropical rain forest; weather hot and humid and the jungle encroaches relentlessly onto the remaining settlements.

We are flat broke and without money, we will be stuck on this miserable jungle planet. I sent Tailchaser, my Vargr scout, to ask the locals about any lucrative opportunities. He grumbled that this was below his highborn station, but I reminded him that he is not the only dog on the crew and the job of fetching my slippers is already filled. He returned that evening with a promising lead. Reactive Logistics, a manufacturer of personal weaponry, had abandoned a factory nearby to the spaceport. Even if we could not find something to sell, perhaps we could locate some quality weapons for the crew.

We set out for the factory at dawn.  The overgrown trail was barely large enough for our ATV to navigate, so it was nearly noon before we reached the overgrown factory.  Within the walls of the compound, vegetation was sparse. The air was still, with only the buzzing of insects and shrill cries of jungle birds to break the silence.

I sent Gunnar to the top of a nearby tower to scan the area as Shock, the uplifted Chimpanzee, moved off toward a building that appeared to be the command center. Certainly, any proprietary data would fetch a nice price on the open market. "Freya, Tailchaser, Gaetir, on me" I whispered, gesturing in the direction of a prominent central tower. 

We moved forward cautiously, keeping alert for any dangerous life forms that might have taken up residence within the abandoned workshops and hab units.

We had just begin to advance when Shock called out over the comm "CONTACT. CONTACT. CONTACT. Shock see many mens ahead." Shock was far more fluent in sign language than in the Basic tongue, and  I wished I could see him so that he could more clearly show me how many and where. 

A moment later, Gunnar answered my question from his vantage point. "Confirmed, Skipper.  I count at least seven sentients, approaching from the Northwest. Currently out of range, continuing observation."

The interlopers must have taken notice of us at nearly the same moment. Gesturing up toward Gunnar's observation post, one of them called out "You're too late, Shorties. We're here for the goods and you'd best stay out of the way if you know what's good for you." I grumbled a few choice opinions of his questionable lineage and proclivities, but only under my breath so as not to give away my position. But I recognized the accent and the cocky attitude. It was that bastard Blake, which meant there were still a couple of his notorious Nine we had yet to spot. Another mark in my Book of Grudges for that insult. I had a bullet with his name on it, and if he wandered into my sights I intended to keep shooting at him until I found which bullet that was.

A clatter to the Northeast drew my attention back to the present. Had Blake sent a pair of his crew to try and flank us? No, I counted at least five people atop a hab unit in that corner of the compound.  Bloody Hells, how many people knew about this place?

Nothing we could do about it but get there first, I suppose. "Move, move, move, people! Haul arse if you want to eat something besides ration packs tonight." My huscarl Ogan made a beeline toward the command center, Bombur and Shock by his side, as PADDy sped off in the direction of Blake's crew, its synthesized bark reverberating from the walls of the narrow alleys. Jonny Bravo rushed after them, tapping furiously at his deck in the hopes of locating the layout of the facility.

My team continued to move forward toward the main street, keeping behind the cover of the abandoned ground cars. Suddenly, over the low wall separating us from the central tower, we heard the grinding of metal and whirring of gears.  A metallic head and shoulders rose above the wall, and I felt a chill down my spine as I recognized the machine. I had fought against them and alongside them many times in my military career.  Thankfully it was facing away from us, fixated on the other intruders, but if it turned my way, we were in for a world of hurt. "WARBOT!" I screamed over the comm. 

"Bombur, cover to the northeast!"  I heard the burp of his grenade launcher and watched a smoking projectile soar over the low buildings in the direction of the killer machine.  The grenade fell short of the target and bounced off the wall to my right, but the smoke still obscured our location. And it would give me cover so I could climb to the top of this building for a better shot.  Freya and Tailchaser pounded up the stairs of the building to my left.

Ogan's team continued toward the command center, and reported a visual on the other pair of Blake's crew that had previously been unaccounted for. Clearly he had the same idea as we did.  Suddenly, a klaxon began blaring.  Somehow Ogan's team had triggered a proximity alarm.  Gaetir and Bombur covered their ears to muffle the incredibly loud noise but were too disoriented to do anything else.  

Jonny took cover behind the corner of a convenience store as PADDy rushed forward, blocking the doorway to the command center and menacing the approaching enemies with a low growl.  Blake's robot stopped short, reluctant to engage my guard dog.  

I thought we might have a chance to probe deeper into the complex but I heard faint music and the sound of commercial jingles to the Southeast. "Try SunCrush!" the voice announced, "It tastes great and lead and mercury levels are within approved limits!" Another robotic voice called out "You aren't yourself when you're hangry. Try StarBug Snackers!" 

This was unreal. StarBug Snacks Incorporated was once a small vending machine company, until some of the machines developed sentience due to a calendar glitch in their operating systems.  

The machines went rogue, and were scouring the local systems for components to upgrade themselves.  They owed their allegiance only to the service technician that now served as their de facto leader.  They would be comical if they weren't so dangerous.

I climbed up the side of the building as the smoke screen dissipated. I could see at least a half dozen of them. Thankfully the WarBot continued to exchange fire with the crew to the southwest.  Of more interest to me was the crate of parts on the rooftop. Glancing across the catwalk to my left, I noticed that Freya and Tailchaser had found a similar crate. She was burning away at the lock with her hand laser, but I had no need for such subtlety. I simply used my heat hammer to smash the locks off of this one.

I could hear Ogan's team below me, exchanging fire with Blake's crew. That bastard had hacked the overhead doors on the sides of the command center! They didn't need to get past PADDy, they just came in from another side!  I heard a yip and glanced down to see a shot bounce off of PADDy's armor.  My dog was savaging Blake's robot with its mechanical jaws, but the damage was not enough to disable the opponent.  Shock and Jonny continued to exchange ineffectual fire with Blake's men.  None of us had been harmed yet, but they had stalled our advance.

StarBug's machines trundled toward a factory control station across the street from the security center.  The little scutters rolled noisily up the stairs, as the ones on the ground began squawking in binary language, unlocking the terminal remotely.

Things were not going our way. This had turned from a stealthy snatch and grab to a battle royale, with Blake and StarBug holding a significant advantage over my crew and whoever was on the other side. "Ogan, get a drone up here to recover this crate!" I called out. "Aye, my Jarl," he responded.  I heard him working with his toolkit, readying a portable unit. 

The StarBug machines must have heard the commotion, because one called out to me. "I am coming for that box!" it taunted. "You'll be leavin' in a box, ye bloody bastard!" I shouted back. "I AM a box!" it replied. "Well, then, well played!" I said as I fired some shots in their direction.  

"Try a Crushinator, it's carbine-ated!" barked the drink machine as it fired a soft drink can in my direction. The poorly-aimed can struck a few meters from me and blew away a chunk of the masonry with the force of a high-caliber slug. I certainly was no longer amused by these whimsical snack machines.

Bombur lobbed another smoke grenade toward the WarBot, who had yet to notice us and hopefully never would.  Shock rushed forward into the open command center and skidded to a halt as he came face-to-face with Blake's First Mate!  A pair of his crew were frantically tapping away at a control terminal but spun around to face the startled Chimp.  

 

It was clear we were not going to get any farther, unless the WarBot happened to destroy all opposition and then graciously chose to self-destruct. I knew that neither of those things were likely to happen. All we could hope to do now was to get away with what we already had.

Ogan's drone hovered over the lip of the roof and latched onto the unlocked crate.  The StarBug technician noticed this and tapped a series of hasty commands on his deck. I could see that Jonny was trying to counter the hack, but then our drone stopped. The lights in its optical sensors changed color and it began to sing a snack jingle. "Sipping fresh mango juice? Fun, fun, FUN!".  I staggered back and opened fire with my autocannon.  The drone shattered into glowing fragments and it dropped the crate once more at my feet.  

I could hear Tailchaser dragging a case down the stairs toward our extraction point, as Freya rushed my way, popping off shots with her hand laser at the approaching StarBug bots.

The struggle below had become more heated, as some of Blake's soldiers engaged Ogan and Bombur in hand-to-hand combat. "Ah, Boss Man? We got some troubles down here!" Jonny called out on the radio. Attracted by the noise of the alarms, a quartet of  green-skinned ruffians had emerged from behind!

While his men fought furiously against the unknown team, Blake's own drone had hovered to the top of the central tower to seize whatever valuable cargo was located there. The Warbot noticed this and destroyed the drone in a withering hail of laser bolts.

Having driven off Blake's robot, PADDy rushed into the command center, placing itself protectively between Shock and Blake's crew. Its brave defense was short-lived, as more of Blake's men arrived to reinforce their XO and made short work of my dog. Shock was struck in the close-quarters firefight and injured but still alive.

With PADDy down, and Shock suppressed, Blake's First Mate beamed the data to his Captain, who began to race away with the vital information.

Freya raced to my side, dragging the case to the edge of the roof and pushing it over the side before leaping down after it. I hoped that whatever was in the case was better protected than the crate I had smashed open to get it, or we would have a box of broken parts to show for all our work. Gunnar provided covering fire as she tried to make a getaway. 

Before she could get very far, one of StarBug's infernal contraptions rolled up toward her, ominous grinding and buzzing noises emerging from its internals. "Try the Crushinator!" it bellowed cheerfully as it slammed into Freya.  She rolled with the blow, coming to her feet a few meters away. "Got your Orange Crush-" it continued to sing, as she lashed out with a ferocious kick to the base of the machine.  It rolled backwards, sparks shooting from its chassis as it rebooted. "Crush this, ya barsted!" she shouted in a taunting brogue.  During the brawl, Gunnar had begun to drag the crate back toward our ATV.

The new arrivals were shooting indiscriminately at my crew and Blake's, and his bot charged towards them, running past Jonny without even noticing him. Gaetir and Jonny began to fire at the greenskins as well, realizing that four ruffians were a greater danger than one damaged robot. Gaetir urged Jonny forward, realizing that if the ruffians noticed Gunnar slowly dragging away a case of loot, we would be in trouble.  

 

Reluctantly, I gave the order to retreat, as Ogan's team fought a brave delaying action to cover our withdrawal. Realizing that Shock was outmatched and in need of rescue, Ogan made his way into the command center, where several of Blake's men remained.  Ogan was soon pinned by enemy fire.  I was worried that instead of just losing one soldier, I might also lose my First Mate - my cousin!

A loud explosion drew my attention back toward the center of the compound. I saw the WarBot sag to the ground, shooting sparks, flames and shrapnel everywhere. StarBug's robots continued to advance toward whatever precious cargo had been stashed in that tower. All forces were paying a high price to seize that objective, but I was not about to throw my crew into that meat grinder, and had no one to spare even if I had been so inclined. With the menacing security droid out of the action, one of the renegade snack machines was able to make an unlikely ascent and secure the container there.

I figured they were likely to pay me no more attention, as they would not be able to reach Gunnar before he retreated with what remaining little loot we had been able to acquire. So I turned my attention to the melee being fought on the eastern edge of the compound.  One of the ruffians had engaged Blake's robot as Jonny and Gaetir fought the remaining trio. I fired a burst from my gun into the melee between the ruffian and the damaged bot, realizing that even if I missed one of them, I was likely to hit the other. The ruffian was struck and collapsed to the ground as the battle raged on.

Back in the control center, Ogan and Shock had recovered their senses and managed to escape the building as Blake's forces covered their own retreat.  Shock ran ahead to assist Freya, who had been set upon by another vending service droid, while Ogan dragged the battered and sparking dog-bot behind him.  Shock shreiked and jumped up and down on the little scutter, smashing it furiously over and over until it was a pile of broken parts.  

Our retreat continued as Bombur and Ogan linked up with the rest of us.  Gaetir and Jonny were still in combat with the remaining three ruffians. Outnumbered, Jonny was knocked to the ground bleeding. I began to lay down a withering hail of suppressive fire, allowing Gaetir to drag Jonny toward the LZ and safety.

As Shock turned from the destroyed scutter, he stepped into a cloud of poisonous gas and collapsed.  Perhaps it was coolant from the ruined droid, perhaps a nearby gas duct was damaged during the fierce melee fought by Freya and Shock against StarBug's bots.  I don't know, exactly, but I leaped down from the rooftop and hoisted his limp body over my shoulder.

Gunnar dragged the case through a gap in the wall as the rest of us climbed over it to safety.  Behind us, the battle raged on, but we had seen enough fighting for one day.  I only hoped that whatever was in these two cases was worth what we had been through.

We made our way back to the ship as fast as we could safely navigate the terrain. I wanted to make sure my injured crewmen could be tended to as soon as possible, but I was also concerned that whoever survived the battle at the factory did not try to chase us down. And I did not want to stick around to see what lurks about in this jungle after nightfall.

While the colonial medics tended to the injured Jonny and Shock in their rudimentary hospital, Ogan worked on PADDy, and Freya unlocked the two purloined cases and examined the contents.  The crate that Tailchaser had dragged off contained a shotgun that was more powerful than the one he had previously used, and he demanded to keep it in lieu of this month's pay.  As he was the one who had carried it off, I was willing to grant that request.  It was in our best interest for my point man to be well-armed, after all.  The other case contained a lightweight carbine in a higher caliber than we routinely used. While it was a fine weapon, none of my crew felt that it was worth hanging onto, considering that we still had no money.  The local security forces offered enough for it that I was able to refuel and resupply the ship and still have 250 credits to spare.

Ogan proudly announced that he was able to repair my dog, which pleased me greatly.  PADDy was a good dog and he had fought bravely in the battle.  I was not sure if he was as effective as I had hoped, and would certainly give some consideration as to whether I would bring him along to our next fight.

A few hours later, Jonny returned to the ship, helping along Shock with him.  Jonny had some nasty bruises and a few stitches, but Shock still looked pretty sick.  He looked a little greenish, and coughed frequently.  I recommended that he spend our voyage to the next system in the sick bay, and he asked to be discharged from the crew once we made planetfall there.

Our first mission was behind us now.  It had not been a rousing success, nor was it a complete failure.  We had real food in our bellies - frontier cuisine is hardly the best, but still better than ration packets - and money in our pockets.  So, this is the life of an independent trader, aye?

[Thank you to Jesse (Blake's Nine), Nate (StarBug Snacks Inc), and Andy (with the yet-unnamed mystery gang) for a great 4-way battle.  Apologies to Andy for the limited coverage - as we were in opposite corners, I didn't get much opportunity to observe your gunfights against Jesse and Nate!]

CREATING THE SHIP AND CREW FOR FIVE PARSECS/STARGRAVE CAMPAIGNS

 I am working on a mostly Dwarven crew for games of Stargrave, that will most likely be used in playthroughs for Five Parsecs from Home as well.  Read on to learn about their humble starship and its crew of cashiered former soldiers and other misfits.

FORGE FATHERS BRUNHILD-CLASS PATROL BOAT

The BRUNHILD-class patrol boat was designed to rapidly convey a squad of soldiers for small-scale interplanetary incursions.  Ships of this class are named after shield maidens of Dwarven folklore. BRUNHILD-class ships are designed (as Dwarven starships tend to be) for the most efficient use of space and with a need for minimal support crew. While in transit, the combat squad routinely carried out day-to-day tasks such as maintenance, but due to the prevalence of automated support systems, the ship can be operated by a crew of two (pilot and engineer) without loss of effectiveness. This in fact was the typical mode of operation while a squad was deployed to the surface or otherwise disembarked.  The ship is capable of atmospheric operation and planetary landing and is modestly armored to survive deployment and recovery of its troops. It is normally armed with a chin turret and a pair of missile pods, usually employed for clearance of landing zones or during boarding actions . Fuel and supplies allow for a two-week mission profile (up to a month in emergencies) and the ship is capable of short-range interstellar travel before refueling is required.

The ship can accommodate ten personnel, normally consisting of a pilot, co-pilot/gunner, and engineer, as well as a squad of seven armored soldiers (two fireteams of three soldiers each and a sergeant). Soldiers are berthed in two compartments, housing four soldiers each - one compartment for Fire Team A and the Sergeant, the other for Fire Team B and the Gunner.  Each compartment has its own head (including freshers) that can accommodate two soldiers at a time. Often, soldiers would "hot-bunk" allowing one of the double bunks to be removed for greater cabin space.

The pilot and engineer shared a smaller private cabin with its own head, though the Engineer often bunked in a small section of the Engineering Bay in order to more closely monitor operation of ship systems and provide emergency repairs and damage control at a moment's notice if necessary.

In addition to a small cargo bay used for storage and transportation of ship consumables and equipment, a separate cargo bay was used for storage and maintenance of the squad's armored suits. An adjacent armory was used for storage of weaponry and ordnance. Each of these bays possesses its own cargo lock, allowing operations to be carried out without compromising the rest of the vessel.

 The ship also features a ward room that can accommodate six crewman at a time for mess or recreational activity, a small exercise room for four, a sick bay with automated systems to treat two soldiers simultaneously (or up to four at a time in emergencies) as well as a vehicle bay large enough for a four-person vehicle, usually a gravitic sled with limited atmospheric capacity that can be used for transporting a fire team or cargo.  Some vessels were known to carry a half-track instead of the skiff.

Many vessels of this class have been decommissioned due to doctrinal changes in deployment and mission parameters, and more advanced craft are filling the roles once served by this venerable ship.

ABOUT THE FFS BOHICA

The vessel officially commissioned and registered as the Forge Fathers Ship BOUDICA was recently decommissioned and is a private starship owned and operated by Jarl Ingulf Krestursson. His First Mate and Engineer is his cousin (and Huscarl) Ogan Helkkare. The BOUDICA is, in fact, the very same ship that Ingulf first served on as a squad leader, and then commanded later in his career. He and the ship were retired at the same time due to reductions in force.

Ingulf used his military pension and small personal fortune to purchase the decommissioned vessel, though its military equipment was of course removed. More modest defensive weaponry has been installed and the armor bay has been refitted as a second cargo bay to allow the vessel to function as a small trader.  The vehicle bay now houses an all-terrain wheeled ground vehicle.  

Ingulf now enjoys sole use of the Officers' Cabin as his cousin prefers to bunk in the Engineering Bay.  Ogan prefers the company of the machinery over that of his shipmates and is content with the rather spartan accommodations afforded by a hammock and a work table. Though the Officers' Cabin is by no means spacious, even by the standards of many military starships, Ingulf nonetheless is able to enjoy a cabin originally designed for two.

Ingulf's other long-time companion is his robotic dog P.A.D.D. - formally the Prosperity Technologies Advanced Tactical Defensive Drone, but more commonly known in military parlance as the ProTech ATAC Dog Droid. The remainder of his crew is composed primarily of those who served under him throughout his career, and his goal is to locate others with whom he previously served that may be willing to join him. In typical Dwarven fashion, those not serving in a military vocation tend to be craftsmen, traders, or engaged in other entrepreneurial pursuits so Ingulf is sure at least some of his former battle brothers might be interested in his offer.

In the meantime, the remainder of his crew is a motley assortment of individuals, including a Human computer specialist unable to obtain more traditional employment due to allegations of embezzlement and corporate espionage; a Vargr reconnaissance expert who is the youngest scion of a minor noble family; and an uplifted Chimpanzee acrobat who serves as the ship's messenger and company clerk.

While the ship retains its official designation for the purposes of registry and transponder identification, it is almost never referred to by its commissioned name.  Somewhat embittered by the premature end of his otherwise distinguished military career, Ingulf has modified the "nose art" and re-christened the ship with a cynical appellation familiar to soldiers everywhere.  These are the adventures of the FFS BOHICA...