Session 1

Short session just after character completion. In this we found that JP had ordered a Novelty Pleasure Worms cargo we needed to sell & then you had a few encounters: firstly a Gink seller being harassed by auxiliaries, a hard-up naval veteran from the Sky Hammer & the early stages of ugly anti-psi mob outside ‘Madame Zaus’ fortune teller (which The Baron diffused with an excellent bongo performance).

Session 2

As the players made their way to “Uncle E’s Extravaganzamart” to sell their cargo, they found themselves moving through a less pleasant part of the station – it had moved from “airport” decor to “mall” decor, with the walls being a little more run-down & some of the shop units being shuttered. Still, – even here & despite the less salubrious location – there were screens, showing the “Start your year in paradise” advert every few minutes.

They then blundered into several members of the Peckwater Club (essentially a club of disgustingly wealthy, socially destructive, entitled & spoiled upper-class Bullingdon Club type boys) who were enjoying their “backwater bacchanalia” and slumming it with the hoi-polloi for the new year.

The initial encounter was with a particularly revolting group of the Peckwaters who were beating up an unfortunate maintenance worker for laughs, scattering handfuls of money on them as the blows rained down “Oh Look Toppy! I think he’s still poor and needs a donation” etc.

When the players closed in, there was a confrontation which was agreeably tense, with the former police officer getting into a standoff with “the Maximillian” whilst the rest of Maximillians flunkies guffawed and postured, with Max himself waving around a highly polished (very expensive) revolver, though thanks to a very good roll, it was apparent that Max was holding it wrong and almost-certainly had no idea on how to use it. Whilst the Baron tried to defuse things by pulling social rank, Max threw the olive-branch back in his face, retorting with “Oh you are a bargain basement baron! You poor thing slumming around with these stinky oafs”.

Things started to escalate towards violence, with some pushing & shoving – as the navy veteran helped the maintenance worker to his feet – but then JP botched his roll with a stungun, missing wildly – whilst the police officer fired into the air to demonstrate a degree of seriousness. No-one was hit by either discharge, but with actual weapons being used, the Peckwaters beat a sneering retreat back to the rest of their compadres who were hanging around the Novena – a Night Club that was frequented by their peers – just up the street from the Mart.

With Maximillian & his crew mocking them “Ladies and Gentles! Tonights entertainment! The Losers!” and mockingly bowing at them as the PCs walked into the small square, the players were torn – go in & make trouble in the bar, celebrate the new year and perhaps “deal with ‘things’”? Or unload their cargo? After a bit, they decided that “first trade, then violence” was the best approach.

With the path to the Extravaganzamart open & the Peckwaters fooling around outside (basically riding cleaning robots to joust in the plaza), the players went in. The Extravaganzamart was, on the face of it, a fairly standard shopfront, with doors to the rear and – despite its “open 24/7” slogan, a small gathering was taking place at the back. Uncle E himself came out slightly worse for wear & turned off the TV, which was playing music and – every couple of minutes – the irritating advert. With JP kicking into “posh lawyer” mode, “pre-meeting drinks” took place, with people accepting a range of various beverages (space brandy: blue, space beer: green, space whiskey: white – like milk), oiling the start of the negotiations.

Most of the players remained relatively sober, but 1 – JP – started hitting the brandy with gusto, but still, he did better than Uncle E during the (unofficial) drinking contest, who rolled badly and seemed to go to “the dark side” & began bemoaning how hard the last year had been. JP & the Captain intervened, pointing out that this could be the start of something new – a new trade opportunity indeed, which cut through to Uncle E; JPs – extended – presentation was extremely convincing & Uncle E helped resolve an issue, changing, sorry, correcting, the manifest title to something easier to sell.

With the ground suitably prepared, the Captain tried… And failed his broker roll, thanks to an inadvertent slip that the cargo hold was contaminated; they still came out ahead on the deal overall, but it was only thanks to JPs work at rolling the pitch. With the sale complete, they raised their glasses to toast the beginning of a successful new relationship.

The team then took the opportunity to do a spot of shopping – given that the Extravaganzamart boasted a wide variety of products, most things could be purchased, but not everything was immediately in stock, requiring a roll for more choice pieces. Anything else, they could get it – legality permitting – but it would have to be ordered in. Officer Crow asked to see Uncle E’s selection of knives and was impressed at the astonishing range to chose from – from penknives to claymores – & he picked up a knife suitable to his skill level, getting them delivered to the ship. Others were less successful, the navy veteran trying to pick up some kit, but sadly unsuccessfully.

With the transactions completed, Uncle E mentioned a few trade opportunities he had – and things were settling down for the night, when another, rather shifty looking customer came in & requested some privacy. Officer Crow, as a former police officer, became instantly alert and tried to get a read on what was going on, but Uncle E – despite his tipsiness – insisted on maintaining his customers discretion. Reluctantly, the players respected & understood his position & decided that the best thing to do now was the “then violence” part of things.

The Novena was a combination of loud music, loud costumes and freely flowing alcohol, though the high-point was the look of contempt on Maximillians face when they got past the bouncers. Within minutes and a very successful carouse roll – JP ended up with 2 very attractive women on his arms – Tara and Booker (one of whom was green), whilst Officer Crow circulated the room.

His attempt to circulate & trying to blend in with the crowd was unsuccessful & dismissed as a “hello fellow kids” moment, but there were minimal consequences. With booze flowing & gossip happening, Maximillian snapped and came storming over; whilst the players braced for a confrontation, he actually seemed to be much more angry at Tara – the woman who had her tongue in JPs ear. There was no more than a minor verbal sparring (probably because was a very public location) and he sulked off to complain at the bouncers who – seemingly – refused to intervene, much to his obvious disgust.

To satiate his desire to get humiliating revenge on Maximillian, after having been dismissed as a ‘bargain basement Baron’, the Baron nipped back to the Extravaganzamart and purchased some soluble laxatives. On returning to the bar, he ordered a magnum of the best champagne the nightclub had, surreptitiously dropped the laxatives in, and then asked that it – and a note asking for an honourable truce – be sent to Maximillian & tipped the server generously.

Whilst the clock counted down to the New Year, the players rolled into the moment and got wind of a lawyer who was trying to obtain some cargo to an out of the way world that across the system – when the laxatives took effect. With Maximillian & his crew curled over in disgusting discomfort & the rest of the Peckwaters obviously angry at what was going on, the bouncers intervened & came straight to the table – mainly because the Baron had made no significant attempt to disguise his action.

With the bouncers closing in & the police being called, the Baron – famed for not being agile – made a break for the door, though he didn’t get far: he was brought down by a pack of boozed-up toffs who howled hunting calls as they caught him. Indeed, he only made it halfway across the plaza before he was caught by inebriated rugby players & dragged back by the scruff of his neck.

With a glowering crowd around them – and suspicion having fallen on the entire table – the auxiliaries turned up, looking much worse for wear: they’d obviously been doing New Years crowd control, but now there was an assault to deal with. Still, with the regular cells full, the PCs had their kit taken from them and were sent to an overflow room – a hastily converted shop unit with a solid door – where they could be got off the streets & be dealt with tomorrow.

As they whiled away the last few moments of 1110 they heard the countdown to 1111

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Silence.
No cheering. No singing.
Nothing.