![Newbie Guide](https://i.imgur.com/Uy7hIlu.png")
Post by Cato on Oct 27, 2022 13:57:12 GMT -5
POLECONOMY
| Cato's PL: 40,000 |
| Cato's PL: 40,000 |
Shatterpoint Station.
It was a deeply unhappy little place, floating at the far end of the Empire. It was one of many, hardly remarkable at a glance. It had all of the expected accommodations, and seemingly nothing more. A basic maintenance shop for passing ships, a cantina for the weary soul to drown their boredom, and a processing center from which to direct some small amount of trade in and out of Empire space. This station dealt primarily with rare metals, used to help power the kinds of cutting-edge electronics needed in a space-faring age.
But there was something off about Shatterpoint Station.
It would have been difficult to identify back on Arcose. Its numbers seemed to balance, even if its inventoried materiel didn't. Somewhere along the line, shipments of those rare metals were going missing. It might have been a problem if it made it to the bureaucrats, but to the staffers working in one lonely trade office in the Floe Space-Port, all that really mattered was that the amount of income they were expected to report to the capital flowed it when it was meant to. It didn't really matter that some of the money seemed to appear out of thin air.
It was only Cato's experience in these parts of space, the borders of great empires or kingdoms where laws seemed to bend and the long arm of the law seemed just a touch out of reach, that helped her to identify anything was wrong with this place. It came from a chance visit, when she was first making her way back to Plant from Arcose. She decided to investigate, expecting to find little of note other than a greater understanding of imperial trade. Instead, she found a shipment of black market weapons behind a sealed door, only accessible to her through force of arms.
Of course, it had resulted in a bulletin throughout the Empire about a purple-haired Saiyan engaging in 'piracy.'
Little did they know that it gave Cato the perfect opportunity to put her newfound contact to the test. She didn't know where an illegal weapons trade fit when it came to the balance of the universe, but she was absolutely sure that if Shatterpoint Station feared Arcose learning of its weapons deals, then they probably didn't benefit the Empire in any way. Here on the fringes, there was one thing that made sense to Cato--one thing she had seen time and time again, in kingdoms far less grand than Arcose.
They were funding rebels.
Cato tapped on her scouter as her pod came to a halt in the visitor's hangar. It was a fairly small hangar, with dull metallic walls and floors that hadn't been polished in years, and only a couple of other ships there for a short stay. This was tourist destination. A collection of aliens--mechanics, security, and the port official looking to extract a docking fee--all rushed forward, but Cato would make them wait. She had a message to send first.
"Can you lock onto my location?" she hooked into Brumal's frequency, ignoring any basic rules of radio etiquette. "I've found a place you might be interested in--and I'm still eager to see how you handle situations like these. I'll be here when you arrive."
It was a deeply unhappy little place, floating at the far end of the Empire. It was one of many, hardly remarkable at a glance. It had all of the expected accommodations, and seemingly nothing more. A basic maintenance shop for passing ships, a cantina for the weary soul to drown their boredom, and a processing center from which to direct some small amount of trade in and out of Empire space. This station dealt primarily with rare metals, used to help power the kinds of cutting-edge electronics needed in a space-faring age.
But there was something off about Shatterpoint Station.
It would have been difficult to identify back on Arcose. Its numbers seemed to balance, even if its inventoried materiel didn't. Somewhere along the line, shipments of those rare metals were going missing. It might have been a problem if it made it to the bureaucrats, but to the staffers working in one lonely trade office in the Floe Space-Port, all that really mattered was that the amount of income they were expected to report to the capital flowed it when it was meant to. It didn't really matter that some of the money seemed to appear out of thin air.
It was only Cato's experience in these parts of space, the borders of great empires or kingdoms where laws seemed to bend and the long arm of the law seemed just a touch out of reach, that helped her to identify anything was wrong with this place. It came from a chance visit, when she was first making her way back to Plant from Arcose. She decided to investigate, expecting to find little of note other than a greater understanding of imperial trade. Instead, she found a shipment of black market weapons behind a sealed door, only accessible to her through force of arms.
Of course, it had resulted in a bulletin throughout the Empire about a purple-haired Saiyan engaging in 'piracy.'
Little did they know that it gave Cato the perfect opportunity to put her newfound contact to the test. She didn't know where an illegal weapons trade fit when it came to the balance of the universe, but she was absolutely sure that if Shatterpoint Station feared Arcose learning of its weapons deals, then they probably didn't benefit the Empire in any way. Here on the fringes, there was one thing that made sense to Cato--one thing she had seen time and time again, in kingdoms far less grand than Arcose.
They were funding rebels.
Cato tapped on her scouter as her pod came to a halt in the visitor's hangar. It was a fairly small hangar, with dull metallic walls and floors that hadn't been polished in years, and only a couple of other ships there for a short stay. This was tourist destination. A collection of aliens--mechanics, security, and the port official looking to extract a docking fee--all rushed forward, but Cato would make them wait. She had a message to send first.
"Can you lock onto my location?" she hooked into Brumal's frequency, ignoring any basic rules of radio etiquette. "I've found a place you might be interested in--and I'm still eager to see how you handle situations like these. I'll be here when you arrive."
TWC: 551
