Difference between revisions of "Sector2/Reenus"
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== Fiction == | == Fiction == | ||
| + | === Travellers' Tales === | ||
| + | After all, it is a pretty strange ooniverse out there. I was on the end of a long run to Reenus once, in Galaxy 2. A looong run: 14 jumps, skimming fuel half the time because I'd sunk so much dough into the contract (a sweet little deal to ship in a stash of gemstones for the coronation of the latest year-king... impact rubies the size of your head, guys). There wasn't much change left out of a hundred grand, so I was keeping costs down to a minimum. Me and the old Radio Maru were both pretty well cooked when we dropped out the Witch into Reenus space. | ||
| + | |||
| + | It's a Feudal world, so I upped the taps on the adrenalin feed a couple of notches, just to stay sharp, 'cos it's not like you can expect any help from the local Blues, right? Anyway, there I was, out by the beacon, lining up for the final run into the station, and I get this squawk: "Help! We are assailed by brigands!" A Moray Medical, it was, out on the fringe of scanner range. Now, I got a soft spot for the Medicals: I guess we all do, right? I didn't have much more than a sneeze of fuel left, after the trip in from Qucedi, but I lit up the injectors anyway and hustled on over to the Moray. He was flipping and twisting all over, and was being pretty well fried by two Mambas and a Krait, with a big Black Dog Python just lazily cruising in to pick up the pieces. | ||
| + | |||
| + | Well, I evened up that fight pretty fast. Mamba one, he never even saw me coming; and Mamba two was dead before he could think to blink. The Krait swung around and targeted me, but I ignored him and got his daddy's attention with a well-placed burst up the tailpipe. He popped a missile at me but I'd hit the ECM before it had cleared his ship, and I guess that spoiled his day. He rolled around and scuttled sunwards. | ||
| + | |||
| + | By this time the Krait was making a bit of a dent in my back end, so I slammed the anchors, flipped around and pushed my laser into the red all over his nose. That was enough for him; he fired his injectors and shot off like a scalded [[Sector2/Ramaza|Ramazan]]. I turned back to chase down the Black Dog: I don't like pirates at the best of times and besides, the Radio Maru had an empty belly... | ||
| + | |||
| + | I was homing in on him, with my laser ticking down cool again, and was just about to give him a dose when there was a... a shudder, right there against the background of space, and all of a sudden this Imperial Courier just materialised in front of the Dog. Imp ships give me the willies most times, but seeing one pop out of nothing like that just about made me purge my tanks. I swear to Giles, one moment it was just me and the Python, the next, there it was all leggy and silver and looking like a hungry vulture. It opened up on the Python and in no time flat turned it into a ball of dust and cargo pods. One cannister -- machinery, it was, tractor parts or some such -- even shot out straight down the Radio Maru's neck. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I got out of there fast, I can tell you. Empty belly or no, I wasn't going to hang around playing catch-the-cans with that thing. I poured what little fuel I had left into the pipes and pushed off in-system. When I looked back: nothing. No debris, no Courier, nothing at all. I hope that Moray Medical made it out: I blipped off a "Good night, and good luck" into his last general volume, but man, I wasn't hanging around to check. | ||
| + | |||
| + | The rest of the run-in was as empty as you could wish for. Which was probably just as well: I was so itchy I nearly launched a missile when the station pinged up on the scanner. I barely noticed the droids unshipping the cargo, and damn near forgot to check the credit statement, too. | ||
| + | |||
| + | I told the story to the station-master. Stupid, I know: he thought I was crazy and I think was all for locking me down, but my psych-license is up-to-date. I calmed down a bit anyway and started to think it was just starstroke, or maybe a dodgy valve on the adrenalin feed or something. But later, when I saw the two Mambas and their bounties in my killfile, and sold off a ton of machinery that I absolutely, positively never bought, I knew something screwy had happened. You ever hear of anything like that? The Imp Courier's a pretty damn big ship, and makes a good-sized dent on the scanner -- which, by the way, was just newly serviced before I made the run -- so there's no way I could have missed it. There's no way the Python could have missed it, either, so why the hell did he run slap bang under its guns? I dunno, man. Still, all in all it was a good run, and I got a taste for Thitle brandy... what are you having? It's my shout, I'm sure... [http://aegidian.org/bb/viewtopic.php?p=45080#p45080 Disembodied (2008)] | ||
| + | |||
=== The Traders Almanach === | === The Traders Almanach === | ||
{{QuoteText|Text=If the limiting factor is the size of the cargo bay, you've got to get the best gain per unit: There is nothing worthwhile you could carry out of this system.|Source=(Excerpt from: [[The Traders Almanach]] entry for 2:171)}} | {{QuoteText|Text=If the limiting factor is the size of the cargo bay, you've got to get the best gain per unit: There is nothing worthwhile you could carry out of this system.|Source=(Excerpt from: [[The Traders Almanach]] entry for 2:171)}} | ||
<div style="clear:both"></div> | <div style="clear:both"></div> | ||
Revision as of 14:50, 28 January 2024
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| This planet is most notable for Reenusian Thitle brandy but scourged by deadly edible moths. |
| Old Galactic Catalogue Entry for 2:171 (Reenus) |
Contents
Witchspace Routes
|
Trade
| Item | Price | Quantity | Avail- ability |
Annotations | ||||
| Min | Avg | Max | Min | Avg | Max | |||
| Food | 2.8 | 3.0 | 3.2 | 18 | 18.5 | 19 | 100.0% | |
| Textiles | 5.6 | 6.1 | 6.8 | 16 | 17.5 | 19 | 100.0% | |
| Radioactives | 18.8 | 20.2 | 21.6 | 20 | 23.5 | 27 | 100.0% | |
| Slaves | 4.0 | 10.2 | 16.4 | 0 | 16.0 | 31 | 96.8% | |
| Liquor/Wines | 21.2 | 24.1 | 27.2 | 25 | 32.5 | 40 | 100.0% | |
| Luxuries | 97.6 | 98.1 | 98.8 | 6 | 7.5 | 9 | 100.0% | |
| Narcotics | 0.4 | 65.9 | 99.6 | 0 | 42.0 | 58 | 31.2% | |
| Computers | 95.2 | 95.8 | 96.4 | 0 | 0.0 | 0 | 0.0% | |
| Machinery | 61.2 | 62.6 | 64.0 | 4 | 7.5 | 11 | 100.0% | |
| Alloys | 33.6 | 39.8 | 46.0 | 11 | 26.5 | 42 | 100.0% | |
| Firearms | 80.8 | 82.1 | 83.6 | 0 | 0.0 | 0 | 0.0% | |
| Furs | 48.8 | 61.4 | 74.0 | 0 | 32.0 | 63 | 98.4% | |
| Minerals | 10.4 | 11.0 | 11.6 | 59 | 60.5 | 62 | 100.0% | |
| Gold | 36.4 | 37.7 | 39.2 | 8 | 11.5 | 15 | 100.0% | |
| Platinum | 63.6 | 69.8 | 76.0 | 3 | 18.5 | 34 | 100.0% | |
| Gem-Stones | 15.6 | 18.6 | 21.6 | 0 | 8.0 | 15 | 93.7% | |
| Alien Items | 57.2 | 58.6 | 60.0 | 0 | 0.0 | 0 | 0.0% | |
| Average prices are based on long-term established averages (the so-called arithmetic mean). The average quantity is based only on quantity values greater zero. Availability gives a percentage whether a good is available in this system. Please note that these are statistical data. GalCop regulations expressively forbids the broadcasting of actual prices beyond the current system. | ||||||||
OXPs
The Reenus system falls under the responsibility of the Navy Command Station 1 in Aanteso, two hops away. The shortest witchspace path to ComSec Station 1 in Aanteso is Reenus -(6.8LY)-> Qucedi -(6.8LY)-> Aanteso. (Galactic Navy OXP)
The Feudal States
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Reenus is a member of The Royal Houses of Colesque. The nobility of Reenus is of german descent. (Feudal States OXP).
Fiction
Travellers' Tales
After all, it is a pretty strange ooniverse out there. I was on the end of a long run to Reenus once, in Galaxy 2. A looong run: 14 jumps, skimming fuel half the time because I'd sunk so much dough into the contract (a sweet little deal to ship in a stash of gemstones for the coronation of the latest year-king... impact rubies the size of your head, guys). There wasn't much change left out of a hundred grand, so I was keeping costs down to a minimum. Me and the old Radio Maru were both pretty well cooked when we dropped out the Witch into Reenus space.
It's a Feudal world, so I upped the taps on the adrenalin feed a couple of notches, just to stay sharp, 'cos it's not like you can expect any help from the local Blues, right? Anyway, there I was, out by the beacon, lining up for the final run into the station, and I get this squawk: "Help! We are assailed by brigands!" A Moray Medical, it was, out on the fringe of scanner range. Now, I got a soft spot for the Medicals: I guess we all do, right? I didn't have much more than a sneeze of fuel left, after the trip in from Qucedi, but I lit up the injectors anyway and hustled on over to the Moray. He was flipping and twisting all over, and was being pretty well fried by two Mambas and a Krait, with a big Black Dog Python just lazily cruising in to pick up the pieces.
Well, I evened up that fight pretty fast. Mamba one, he never even saw me coming; and Mamba two was dead before he could think to blink. The Krait swung around and targeted me, but I ignored him and got his daddy's attention with a well-placed burst up the tailpipe. He popped a missile at me but I'd hit the ECM before it had cleared his ship, and I guess that spoiled his day. He rolled around and scuttled sunwards.
By this time the Krait was making a bit of a dent in my back end, so I slammed the anchors, flipped around and pushed my laser into the red all over his nose. That was enough for him; he fired his injectors and shot off like a scalded Ramazan. I turned back to chase down the Black Dog: I don't like pirates at the best of times and besides, the Radio Maru had an empty belly...
I was homing in on him, with my laser ticking down cool again, and was just about to give him a dose when there was a... a shudder, right there against the background of space, and all of a sudden this Imperial Courier just materialised in front of the Dog. Imp ships give me the willies most times, but seeing one pop out of nothing like that just about made me purge my tanks. I swear to Giles, one moment it was just me and the Python, the next, there it was all leggy and silver and looking like a hungry vulture. It opened up on the Python and in no time flat turned it into a ball of dust and cargo pods. One cannister -- machinery, it was, tractor parts or some such -- even shot out straight down the Radio Maru's neck.
I got out of there fast, I can tell you. Empty belly or no, I wasn't going to hang around playing catch-the-cans with that thing. I poured what little fuel I had left into the pipes and pushed off in-system. When I looked back: nothing. No debris, no Courier, nothing at all. I hope that Moray Medical made it out: I blipped off a "Good night, and good luck" into his last general volume, but man, I wasn't hanging around to check.
The rest of the run-in was as empty as you could wish for. Which was probably just as well: I was so itchy I nearly launched a missile when the station pinged up on the scanner. I barely noticed the droids unshipping the cargo, and damn near forgot to check the credit statement, too.
I told the story to the station-master. Stupid, I know: he thought I was crazy and I think was all for locking me down, but my psych-license is up-to-date. I calmed down a bit anyway and started to think it was just starstroke, or maybe a dodgy valve on the adrenalin feed or something. But later, when I saw the two Mambas and their bounties in my killfile, and sold off a ton of machinery that I absolutely, positively never bought, I knew something screwy had happened. You ever hear of anything like that? The Imp Courier's a pretty damn big ship, and makes a good-sized dent on the scanner -- which, by the way, was just newly serviced before I made the run -- so there's no way I could have missed it. There's no way the Python could have missed it, either, so why the hell did he run slap bang under its guns? I dunno, man. Still, all in all it was a good run, and I got a taste for Thitle brandy... what are you having? It's my shout, I'm sure... Disembodied (2008)
The Traders Almanach
| If the limiting factor is the size of the cargo bay, you've got to get the best gain per unit: There is nothing worthwhile you could carry out of this system. |
| (Excerpt from: The Traders Almanach entry for 2:171) |
