You’re in the black, having dodged a Reaver ambush that only cost you your dorsal airlock, assembly (them things ain’t cheap).
The Purples told you to stand down, but they was on fire and all, and seemed busy, and standing down didn’t seem all that smart, so you bolted.
Bob and Pat are spending a lot of time in their cabins, mostly because there’s dead Reavers in the kitchen (Hart will get that cleaned up) and a live Reaver (ish) in sickbay.
You’ve crates of unknown and kinda scary cargo in the hold, destined for Rhamba and a paycheck, with a promise of work beyond, and nicely Rhamba’s way out of Reaver territory.
You’ve promises of Reaver gold with a narrow window to get to it. With a fixed tongue and some meds, the Reaver in sick bay spills his guts to you, as follows…
I was cargo master on a freighter, hauling goods ‘tween rocks in the black when we’s got jumped. Reavers everywhere, we hid down in the depths while we heard the screams, not being much for fighting. When they found us, they’d mostly had their fill so they took us (me and 2 others) and cut on us and made us watch while they…wracking sob….did things to my crewmates, but they didn’t kill us, ’causin we knew stuff.
They took us to their pack and dumped us as the Alpha to decide what to do with us. Jim, he mouthed off and the Alpha tore his throat out with his teeth. Me and Dex shut up, nodded a lot, and stayed alive. Because we weren’t no real reavers, they made us Omegas, bottom of the heap. We scrubbed latrines, fixed plumbing, and avoided everything we could. Dex got too much of it one day and spaced himself, the Reavers thought it funny.
We was on a raid, some passenger job that shouldn’ta been out this far anyway. I don’t know what happened, things got all hectic, my mind kinda went blank, and when I woke up, I was in that pod. I’m guessin that my mind saw a chance at escape and took it.
I’ve not killed anyone, not reaved anything, but I’ve seen to much, my minds broken bad. I just want to find some comfortable place away from folks and live out my years quietly until I die in my sleep of nightmares, but that takes cash, cash I don’t have and can’t earn. Then I remembers, when the Reavers take a ship, they take all of the things they think are valuable (ammo, parts, etc) and dump all of the rest (cash, jewelry, etc) into the hulk and push it into a dumping ground on the edge of the pack’s space.
They tried letting it just float into space but it always ended up lingering and gumming up engines, so they pack it up and push it to their “junk pile”.
I seen it, there’s all kinds of stuff there, enough to make a dozen men rich for a lifetime. But the pack is always near, unless they’re hunting, and though they don’t “guard” it, they ain’t the trustin kind either. But I know the codes, I speak Reaver, I can get you near it enough to grab all you can, but you have to hurry, the pack is out hunting and with this frigate near, they’ll be heading back soon. The pack is over 40 ships, more than a match for a full Alliance group, so your only chance is when they’re out.
It’s all I’ve got, it’s my chance to start over, please help.
Hart will tell you, out of the room, that the man is broken, inside and out. He’s done all he can to stablize him but he’ll need a lifetime of therapy to be able to rejoin civilization, if it’s even possible. As far as he can tell, the man is telling the truth.
Your call. The window the pack is out closes in 18 hours, and the debris pile is easily 14 hours away unless you pulse in at top speed, which will surely alert anything near by as the pulse engines are easy to spot on sensors.