Chapter 1: Ring of Fire

The old Autumn Gold rattles gently as it enters Walston's upper atmosphere. You sit together with your fellow travellers in the old freighter's mess hall, gazing upon the isolated world as you hurtle towards its surface. An old Terran song plays over the intercom on all decks, the ancient singer delivering every lyric with absolute conviction.

"I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down
And the flames went higher
And it burns, burns, burns
The ring of fire
The ring of fire..."

The four of you have come here to Walston to claim a ship, and begin a new chapter in your lives. Wayward Wind was once a prized vessel of House Llewyn's fleet, but was captured decades ago by their rivals, House Gagarin. The Gagarins have made sport of flaunting this capture, putting this once-proud ship to menial and dishonorable tasks. But House Llewyn has finally located the ship, abandoned just outside the Imperium on the Bowman Arm, on the planet of Walston. You've been in transit to Walston for nearly a month, living out of your suitcase and hitching jumps on the tramp freighters that ply these far-flung space lanes.

House Llewyn has tasked the four of you with regaining control of the ship, and bringing pride to the vessel's tarnished name once again. This could mean as a fearsome raider, a successful merchant vessel, or an intrepid exploration ship - the details have been left up to you. Much trust and autonomy has been placed in your hands. With this freedom comes the expectation that you will finance this endeavor entirely; any profits are yours to keep.

To help get Wayward Wind off the ground, House Llewyn has provided you with a crate of spare parts and software in case she's not operational when you find her. You also have the override codes that will allow you to delete the ship’s current operating system and install a new one. The old system may be badly corrupted and is likely still keyed to the Gagarin crew. They trust that you will be able to handle any other unexpected issues that arise.



As the Autumn Gold continues it's descent, you can see endless deserts stretch across Walston's surface. In the distance, you spot massive machines left to bleach in the sun, half-buried in sand.

After a few more minutes, you approach the shores of a vast, still ocean. Shortly after, a verdent island appears on the horizon. Vegetation sparsely covers much of the island, and you can see a several small settlements dotting coastline, while a larger one lies inland.

The Autumn Gold decelrates rapidly, and her inertial dampers whine softly while making sure you don't feel a thing. It spirals into on of those coastal settlements and you can hear the land gear extending. Captain Keller enters the mess hall through automated sliding doors, his metal leg clanking against the Autumn Gold's deck plating. He speaks with a booming, jovial voice.



"Well, travellers, this is your stop. We're touching down at the downport as we speak. We'll unload your cargo onto the platform. Take your time disembarking, we're going to stay overnight. Gonna look the ol' girl over, maybe go for a swim! Did you hear that rattling when we hit atmo?"

He pats his cybernetics arm against the wall of the ship in a loving gesture.

Zuni was ready to walk on some firm ground and see their new ship. He'd come a long way from his drifter days and if there was one thing he knew it was that he was no longer that loser. As he advanced through his career he learned that he had courage and daring proving that people could and did change. This was to be a new phase in his life and he was anxious to get started.

Running his palm on top of his now overgrown buzz cut he made a note to himself to cut it close again first thing when they got settled. To Zuni, looking the part was almost as important as being the part or maybe it was as important.

Tapping his foot in time to the beat of the old tune he had never heard before, he turns to the others. "That's a good idea, Captain Keller. Anyone fancy a swim in that ocean? Looked pretty inviting on the way in. It will be nice to be out in the open. I might even go for a run."

Seally Llewyn, technically Dame Seally Llewyn of House Llweyn, contemplates her mobile comm, tracking the galactic drift and the huge expanse between spiral arms. Seemingly empty, was there a vast undiscovered trove of worlds floating in the abyss? Her mind swam with the possibilities. She wears tight fitting, stylish yet sturdy clothing as a rule, her reddish hair carefully arranged in a nod to last year's fashions, since news of those likely rides with them to the outskirts where what's old is new.

When they disembark, she greets Keller like an equal -- it is his ship, of course, and got them where they needed. I'll miss the Autumn Gold's gurgles and strange clanks when I'm sleeping tonight, Cap. She's a fine bird." She offers her right hand to his artificial one and shakes it firmly.

Her largest possession has been the butt of several jokes. Nearly a meter cubed, she had endured many curious but fun loving jabs that it was "the princess' makeup kit." She only smiled and laughed. She pats it and gets out of the ship.

On her hip is a flechette pistol. The rest of her gear is a small array of electronics and her personal pack with little more than changes of clothing. She's hoping they can buy what they need, once they know what that is.

"Not sure about that Zuni. I might dip my toes in if we can find a hauler to rent for our gear."

Alerio chuckles.

"Ring of Fire. That’s what the boys in the precinct used to call whatever slop the Captain’s wife used to send in."

She thinks back on the great heaping bowls of reddish-brown gloop, all choked down to be polite… and to get ahead here and there. Ask for the recipe and suddenly your patrolling the quiet district next week…

"This shit… it was awful. And it’d have you squirting fire before your shift was…"

She looks about at her fellow Travellers, and goes quiet.

"Never mind!" she says, forgetting the story then. The smile is replaced with a scowl as her thoughts turn dark. Turning to what the Captain had last said to her…

She tries to shake the sudden mood off.

Another few minutes and they’re on solid ground. Alerio stretches her muscles, and coaxes them back into use. A wobble in your stomach was bad enough, but a wobble in your knees before you got your land legs back was twice as bad.

Dressed in tight navy blue gear, with a thick shawl up and around her shoulders, she peers out at the water.

The sudden urge to be submerged came over her. Hellhole had been a dust bowl, and recycled water had that smell…

"Oh, I’ll be there!" she says, grabbing her things and getting ready to dismount!

Fallon was the first one packed up and ready to disembark. There was only so much information available in such a small ship and she had pried enough into her fellow Traveller's lives during the journey to know she was the step before becoming shunned. Knowing where the line is when interviewing subjects is a great skill for any journalist.

But now, a fresh new world! True, it was in the boondocks of space and unlikely to have anything newsworthy to find, but whatever secrets it did have she was going to find it! And what better place to start than at the beach?

"I'm going to need to find a clothing store first. I didn't think to bring a swimsuit." She looks down at herself. Wearing functional clothing of a sleeveless green turtleneck top with black short shorts and boots along with her trusty grey "investigator's coat" (as she thinks of it in her mind) she is not exactly ready for the beach. She has all of her possessions in two bags: a bivvy pack and a regular backpack. She has a visor over her eyes that functions as her personal HUD.

Once the door opens she makes sure she's the first one out of the ship.

"Ahhh right. You guys need bathing suits, don't you? Well, I can just avert my eyes."

Zuni chuckles. He's feeling good and his excitement shows. "C'mon Sealy. Let your hair down and have some fun! The hauler can wait, can't it? See Aliero has the right idea."

Zuni enthusiastically grabs his pack which is so stuffed it looks like it's ready to burst open and heads out behind Fallon, his heavy boots clomping on the floor.

Seally shakes her head. "You've never averted your eyes before. Did you find religion? One of those silly religions about immortal sin?" She smiles, eyes sparkling coyly.

She adds more seriously, "Let's see how busy the landing dock is, and how far away the beach is from it. Just because we're in the armpit of space, doesn't' mean that it is a deserted resort town."

"Space flight can do that to a guy, ya know?" He smiles back, a playful glint sparkling in his eyes. "Really though, that's about the last thing I hope to find ... ever."

Sighing he adds, "Always the practical one huh Seally? Ah, there's one in every group."

Then a thought pops into Zuni's head. "Fallon, you girls can use your trenchcoat and just wade in with that!" The visual that idea evokes is too much for Zuni bringing on a fit of raucous laughter. "Now Alerio, there's a girl that doesn't shy from fun!"

Despite Zuni's devil-may-care playful silliness, Zuni never loses a keen awareness of his surroundings and his hand subtly slides down to his belt to check that he has his pistol even though he knows he does.

"Ah, I was just kiddin' about taking a swim." He points to his cybernetics: "Not sure these are insured for water damage," and gives you a wink. "You folks have a nice time, though. You have my number if you need me."

You stride off of the Autumn Gold down its cargo ramp, and are immediately awash Walston's golden sunlight and salty sea breeze. The air is thin and the gravity is a bit light, but Captain Keller gradually adjusted the Autumn Gold's life support and artificial gravity during the week-long jump so that you feel mostly acclimatized.

As your eyes adjust to the bright, natural light, you see Walston's downport is exceedingly bare; the tarmac is not much more than a patch of bedrock scraped flat, surrounded by a security wall. A tower fitted with a pulse laser turret looms above you, painted bright red. You spot the terminal building built into the wall about 50 metres away. If Walston is like any of the other backwater downports you've visited during this journey, it likely has a customs checkpoint where you can clear security and enter the surrounding community (not to mention the beach).

Wayward Wind is conspicuously not present, nor is there any other starship besides Autumn Gold.



As Keller's crew pushes your crate* onto the landing pad, a female voice makes an announcement over a loudspeaker that echoes within the downport's walls.

"Welcome to Walston, travellers. Please be warned that Walston's atmosphere contains airborne particulate matter, which may cause discomfort and breathing difficulty. Filter masks may be purchased at the terminal. Please note that firearms are not permitted outside the downport. If you need to store any prohibited items, we have secure storage lockers available for rent. Have a pleasant stay."

A small crew of droids approaches the Autumn Gold, hauling refuel lines.

---

* - The crate is conveniently fitted on a Tenser™ grav sled that allows it to float a foot off the ground, and provides a little thrust to help the crate move as well as stop.

Wordlessly, Alerio reaches for her filtration mask, and fits it over her face. She expected much worse than air particles, truth be told. Places like this, at least where she was from, were usually crawling with people looking to make a quick couple of credits; either by crime or useless services exaggerated in usefulness.

"Quiet place." she says, and makes a point of it. But she couldn’t deny that it felt good to get that fresh air again, mask or no. And the light on her skin…

"I guess we’d better go and talk to whoever’s making that announcement!" she says, walking towards the checkpoint. She lets her weapon hang loose, clattering against her back as she walks. She knows better than to give anyone a reason to feel itchy…

Fallon looks at Zuni. "My coat isn't exactly hydrodynamic. Or cheap. This baby cost me a month's salary. Or would have if it wasn't a gift," she grins.

Fallon makes her way down the ramp and stands next to Alerio. When she sees her don a filtration mask, she winces. "First a swimsuit, now a filtration mask. It's been two minutes and I already feel like I didn't bring anything useful," she mutters to herself. When Alerio announces her plan to seek out the voice, Fallon looks at her askance. "I...think that is a recording. But seems like I need to buy myself a filtration mask. And we gotta store our weapons. Too bad they can't take away these guns!" She flexes her almost non-existent biceps and laughs.

Zuni wasn't at all surprised that weapons had to be safely locked away. Seemed to be protocol in places that weren't the outback of space. Still, he felt naked without it.

"I was never a fan of filter masks. Sort of puts a damper on things. But Fallon I didn't mean for you to actually get your fancy coat wet. Ah nevermind. I'm just playing. You know me."

Zuni had great respect for Fallon and even though they were no longer a thing he was still fond of her and felt a little sorry for her too. Those in her field had a tough go of it.

Putting his filtration mask on he was ready to tackle the next task which wasn't quite what he expected.

"It sure is quiet. Too quiet, he says to Alerio nodding his head. "Um .. where are the ships and more importantly where is ours? Underground hangers? Yeah, that must be it."

A warm gust of wind blows across the Tarmac as Captain Keller walks down the ramp, smoking a fat cigar. He motions to the air "If you're lungs are black enough, the dust don't bother ya none!"

In his other hand is hydrospanner, and he gets started inspecting his ship from the ground level, starting with the aluvial dampers.

If you take a closer look in the terminal, you see there's the customs office. Looks like a pretty fancy security setup, despite the planet's backwater status. It has multiple lanes of metal detectors, although all but one of them are closed.

It is only tended by a single man, dressed in a simple grey uniform underneath a flak jacket with the words "SECURITY" stencilled across the back of it in Anglic. He's got some kind of pistol holstered at his hip, as well as a stun baton hanging from his belt. He's looking right back at you with an expression of curiosity on his face.

You also see the storage lockers, located on this side of the security line. A sign in multiple languages proclaims a security lockers are Cr10 per week to rent.

Behind you, you hear the Captain arguing with the droid refuelling team: "No, no! Don't want none of that! I'll fill 'er up at the gas giants!"

Seally brisky walks to catch up to the others. The crate she has double checked and the others got ahead of her. She doesn't have a filter mask, preferring to walk unprepared into the unknown. Well, not really, but she's trying to pretend. Never you mind about the micro-managing of the crate.

At the security desk, she says, "Surely this doesn't count as a firearm. It's barely big enough to concern a strong man like you." Her teasing smile is the opposite of her actions, which is to transfer 10 Cr for the security locker, laying her flechette piston on his table.

Alerio snorts as Fallon brings up the guns. She drags herself towards the checkpoint then, getting more accustomed to the gravity and the air as she goes. When she arrives, she fills the locker without complaint. She knows how it feels to man a checkpoint and have a couple of wise guys come up and try make a fuss.

She nods to the security officer, and draws in the others around her.

"Just here to collect a ship. We’ll be out of your hair in no time!" she says, trying to seem friendly and unthreatening; that great human desire at any checkpoint.

The song from the ship is on her lips then, as she waits for the security officer to process them.

Entering the terminal, the security guard gives you a nod. He's middle aged, and his flack vest isn't isn't doing much to hide his paunch. Still, he seems fairly self assured. After Sally's tease, he simply responds: "Rules are rules, ma'am," but at least gives you the courtesy of a slight blush.

Up close, you notice he's got a black eye that's nearly healed, and there is a gash over that eye with stitches still in.

He slides a old-fashioned transponder fob over to Seally after she transfers the credits. When she taps the transponder to the matching door, it swings open. There's ample room to store her gun. She's able to pass through security without any additional trouble.

As Alerio comes through, he looks up at her comment. "A ship you say? Strange thing to come to Walston for, unless it's a fishing boat."

He gives similar fobs for the lockers beside Seally's for anyone that pays the Cr10.

"We can share a locker. Save some credits," Fallon shrugs. She wasn't exactly hurting for money, but no use wasting it when you didn't have to, right? She puts her revolver in with Alerio's stuff before the woman can protest and smiles and winks in thanks to shut down any potential protest in the near future. She gets in line to get processed behind Alerio.

When it's her turn, she will attempt to ignore her stunfist, fully believing it isn't a weapon but a piece of self-defense equipment, as she answers any questions and fills out whatever forms are required. "Do the beaches here require swimsuits? Or is this planet more...liberal?" she asks innocently.

Seally will share her locker too, it's just her pistol and mags to go in. Her blade she leaves on her hip.

"Do the beaches require ... There's no one here! We could take this young man with us and frolic and no one would ever know." She grins at Fallon.

That rises the security guard's eyebrows. With a completely straight face, he says "Uh, ma'am? If anyone complains about your swim attire, you come tell me and I'll shoot 'em myself. Seems like you're all good here, folks. I won't keep you any further."

With your firearms stowed, you walk out of the downport concourse and into the surrounding town.



In the plaza (and I use that term loosely) outside the downport, you leave behind the clean and orderly for the organic and chaotic.

* A sun-bleached banner hangs above, proclaiming "WELCOME TO STAR TOWN"

* A group of young rascals are chasing a six-legged cat down an alley. One trips and dives into the sandy ground, sending up a weirdly prismatic dust cloud. She starts crying.

* A Vargyr woman is running a stall selling a variety of curios, mostly sparkly glassware souvenirs. A sign advertises filter masks (although you notice none of the locals are wearing one). She looks up from a device and waves at the four of you.

* Across the plaza is a clean building labeled Visitors Centre, and beside it, a smaller building proudly declares itself as "The Walston Museum of Sand."

* On the other side, you can smell the local dive bar. Somewhat redundantly, it sports a flickering neon sign that reads "Hanky Panky's"

* A trio of mechanics in greasy overalls are walking slowly toward the downport, savouring the last drags of their cigarettes

* You can see the beach isn't far away, just past a few tenement blocks.