Sime~Gen Roleplaying on IRC: Snake River Dam Scenario
Episode #119: Bait and Switch (2/11/01)
Edka waits patiently in his hiding place at the side of the road, watching the trail and the trip rope.
Edka finds "customs duty" a nice change from sitting in camp trying to keep himself and his men from going nuts with boredom and starvation.
Edka wonders occasionally if he really ought to be doing this sort of thing, but after all, a high ranking Tecton channel suggested, didn't she?
Edka really doesn't know Snake very well, at all.
Elte strolls merrily down the trail through the area where travellers have been accosted.
Edka hears the lookout's signal--a warbler, instead of the Baltimore Oriole, so the approaching (presumed) smuggler is on foot.
Edka glances over at HT.
Elte has exchanged his usual fancy duds for native attire, and is dressed in the rough woolen cloak and home-spun clothes of a local peddler, with a huge pack on his back.
Edka: Looks like its a small-time operator, this time.
HT sits behind his assigned rock and watches his assigned trip rope. He would much rather be hunting, fishing, anything else. But then wenching is highest on his list of druthers.
Elte hopes to meet the gang that have been variously described as highwaymen and thugs and customs agents.
Edka doesn't look all that frustrated; after all, they are here to enforce the customs laws, and the law must apply equally to all.
Edka is not a thief, after all, to be concerned mostly with the size of the take.
HT glances at the Sarge and catches him looking. HT looks a query at Edka.
Edka gives HT the signal to spring the trap when the approaching smuggler is close enough.
Elte hopes his pack--which he has provisioned with some goodies borrowed from Mr. Birch's private stash as well as some nice heavy books from his personal collection--will prove an attractive lure to the predators.
HT nods and goes back to tending his rope.
Elte has also dyed his hair black and darkened his skin so he will not be recognized. He realizes this disguise won't fool a Sime but the reports said the highwaymen were Gen.
Elte tries to feel like a peddler would feel on a long journey. He can't be sure he has it right, but he has a good imagination.
HT sees his prey is in position. He yanks once and SWISH-SNAP! the trap is sprung.
HT: Got one!
Elte feels the net envelop him and he sails up into the air!
Elte: ~~exhilaration~~
Edka nods approval at HT, then wanders down the slope to see what they've caught this time.
Edka: Well, well, well. What have we here?
Elte spins dizzily.
Elte is eager to see what will happen next.
Elte thinks the voice sounds familiar.
Edka signals for HT to lower the net; no use in making their quarry throw up on the goods, after all.
Elte tries to damp down his glee and act out his role.
Elte: [in Simelan] Hey!!! What is this!!
HT realizes that maybe land fish are more fun. HT lowers the net slowly.
Edka recognizes the voice.
Edka: ~~ disgust ~~
Edka: Elte Andover, what the [expletives not deleted in original] are you doing here??!!
HT releases the catches on the net.
Edka thinks he should have anticipated that Elte would show up where he would be most unwanted.
HT looks at the one that obviously is about to get away.
Elte recognizes Sergeant Edka and grins at him through the gaps in the net.
Elte: Well, I might ask the same question.
HT opens the net completely so that Elte can stand.
Elte: What is a troop of Gen soldiers doing trapping travellers going about their business?
Edka: We are just helping to keep down the smuggling, at the request of a Tecton channel.
Elte gets to his feet, still a bit wobbly from the spinning.
Edka tries to make it sound as boring as possible; experience suggests that this is the only way to persuade Elte not to publish.
Edka: You know it's getting out of hand.
Elte: So you have a contract with the in-Territory government to assist their Border Patrol?
Elte thinks Edka's story sounds a little fishy; official customs agents don't usually set traps on trade routes.
Edka: More or less. Our arrangement is informal, and made on the local level.
HT rolls his eyes heavenward. He can smell something nasty on the wind. And the smell is emanating from Elte.
Edka: It wasn't practical to wait months for official contracts.
Elte: I was told you refused such an arrangement with FluCon to round up illegal Gens? How is this different?
Edka: FluCon is a private company, and from our side of the border, as well. They had no legal authority to request our assistance, particularly when our orders required us to leave the area as soon as possible.
Edka has not found leaving to be possible, but that doesn't change his orders.
Elte's eyes are focusing now and he scans Edka and HT, looking for insignia indicating their status.
HT nods, yup the lovely aroma of flying crap. And Elte has a very fanlike look about him. Maybe the smell isn't coming off Elte after all.
Edka is bundled up so thoroughly that the insignia on his uniform shirt is three layers deep.
Edka didn't come to this area with winter uniforms, after all.
Elte: So this trap you caught me in was set on the orders of the in-Territory government?
Elte turns his attention to the net.
Elte fingers the rope.
Edka: You know as well as I do that it's impossible to get orders out of either government, at the moment. The request to help with the smuggling problem came from a Tecton channel, however, and that's about as close to the Sime Government as exists out here.
Elte: Hmmm, I saw pictures of these net traps in a book about Raiderband administration. Nice to see your expanding your skill set, Sergeant.
Edka: Son, I fought Raiders for years, before you were born.
Edka: You'd better believe, I know the tricks they used to use.
Elte: Has the New Washington government approved this reassignment?
HT is now being the model soldier after his initial lapse. HT makes the twist in his mind that allows him to look totally impassive and unobtrusive while keeping his own reactions unnoticed. Career non-coms learn this trick early and well.
Edka: It isn't a reassignment. My orders have always included the discretion to cooperate with local authorities in law enforcement activities.
Elte: And here I have marched into your check point.
Elte: Do your duty, officer.
Elte: I understand there's some kind of toll?
Edka: That depends. Were you intending to continue on with your goods, or return to camp?
Elte: Oh, I might have gone quite a ways if you hadn't stopped me.
Edka: And your current intentions?
Elte: To stay here for a while.
Elte grins.
Edka: That is not an option.
Elte: By the way, what channel was that who suggested you take on this little chore?
HT of course, knows who but he ain't sayin' a word about it.
Edka smiles in a less-than-friendly fashion.
Edka: I think I'll leave that as a challenge for your investigative prowess. There's no reason to hand you the entire story ready-made, now, is there?
Edka: I assure you, though, I have told you the truth about the matter.
Elte doesn't think it's the kind of idea that would appeal to the orderly Arat, though the Controller is resourceful enough to use any tool available if required.
Elte: So you're not even willing to tell me the name of the person who gave the order?
Elte: And I never heard that channels had any jurisdiction over smuggling. That has nothing to do with selyn management.
Elte: Try again, Sergeant.
Elte grins even more widely.
HT is not very fond of civilians who mix in military matters. But then this matter is on thin ice already.
Edka: When smuggling--and the problems associated with it--affect the well being of so many, the Tecton is bound to take an interest. Besides, you know as well as I do that Arat Farris's word might as well be law, as far as the Simes here are concerned.
Edka is perhaps engaged more in wishful thinking than anything else, when it comes to the authority for his recent actions.
Elte: [dubiously] Arat asked you to do this? I thought he was worried about the rumors that you people might be a Gen infiltration team.
Elte scans the surrounding brush to see if any other soldiers are lurking in ambush.
HT's mind keeps drifting back to a night of drinking and swapping fish stories with Elte. He can't help but like him. HT just wishes Elte were in a different profession, say demolition.
Edka: You know that's nonsense.
Edka is at least pretty sure it's nonsense; no one has told him anything about it, but he's rather low level.
Elte: Is it? You're not wearing any uniforms or insignia.
Edka rolls his eyes.
Elte: People are describing you as highwaymen.
Edka: I don't notice a press badge on the outside of that coat of yours.
Elte: That's because I'm incognito.
Elte rubs at his face where a bit of the walnut juice comes off on his fingers.
Edka: They call the customs agents down on the docks highwaymen, too. Nobody likes a tax collector.
HT can see that the Sarge isn't at all fond of the reporter. Well, maybe under different circumstances they would hit it off but -- oh well.
Elte: Well, I am ready to pay up.
Elte lets his pack slip to the ground.
Elte digs in the pack and pulls out a bottle of Mr. Birch's prime distilled whiskey.
Edka raises an eyebrow.
Edka: Just where did you get that? Mr. Birch's private stash?
Elte: If I offer this in payment of my taxes, what will you do with it?
HT's interest perks up at the sight of the good stuff.
Edka waits for an answer to his question.
HT has been making do with the local made stuff. Some of it could be used to clean the latrines.
Elte: Sure. The guy's got a direct line to the distillery.
Elte was given permission by Birch to make free with the liquor supply when he first came to town, though perhaps he has gone a bit beyond Mr. Birch's expectations in appropriating his stash as stage props for his journalistic adventures.
HT thinks he would love to have the good stuff for taxes/tolls/what ever!
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