Here's a start on the latest round of misadventures:

Thanks to the wheeling'n'dealing of one Derryn DODGIE (Commodore, TC
Navy, Drinking Buddy Of Badass-Moustache and Bar), the _Butcher's
Paradise_ put into the Toyota yards at Prometheus for the bulk of her
residual quirks to be removed.  As the Toyota yard was a _spaceship_
yard, the Lunatics had to still live with the jump drive quirk.

There had been some PC changes - as outlined in the end of Vector
Thrust, Badass-Moustache was due to retire to take over the shore office
and work through the approximate planetoid of paperwork their trip had
generated. Rosa had likewise decided to go elsewhere, her replacement as
Das Boot driver being a Vilani Navy veteran who had emigrated after IW1,
Khugii Khurlushasum - nicknamed "Curly" due to the crew's Australian
contingent.

The shakedown cruise to Procyon (with some freight and passengers) was
reasonably uneventful under the command of Badass-Moustache (the shore
office was still being sorted out, and he had long learned how to
delegate).  Then they jumped outbound from Junction to Procyon - as it
turned out, to meet El Capitane who had made his own way there.

During the last half of the jump to Procyon, the new and improved
sensors picked up a sensor contact.  A _loose_ lower bound on the
unknown rider's displacement was 300 megadton, which was not overly far
off being too big to Jump, as far as current Terran understanding of
jump physics knew. For a spherical body, the threshold worked out to
roughly 512 megadton to generate its own 100D and thus foul any jump
drive mounted - trivia like the cost of said drive not withstanding.

Cue some Moustache-voyance on the unknown rider.  "Something dead, not a
skerrick of dust, decay, wear, use", along with the impression of a LOT
of city-like terrain.  BA-M followed that up with full-blown
clairsentience (and rocked out boxcars) - internals were forensically
clean, built for critters ~ 9 ft tall and roughly 2x as stocky as J.
Random Terran.  He looked around a bit - no indication of any power flow
and the place lacked atmosphere.  Upon spotting a parrot basilisk image
on a screen, BA-M received the _velocite derriere_ and was left
convulsing in The Chair as the sensors snow-crashed.

Curly reached the bridge, rebooted the sensors, told Nikki the good
news, and called Bert to the bridge.

Bert likewise rocked out boxcars on diagnosis, sedated Badass-Moustache,
and carted him orf to sickbay.

One of the passengers had freaked out at Curly's announcement, Nikki
botched talking him down, and got sent switchoff for her trouble.  Curly
took over by default, but I pointed out that, as Curly had only a
limited mate's ticket (starships and spaceships not exceeding 5000 dton)
and there was no un-incapacitated master's ticket holder, limited or
otherwise, available (Moustache was tripping balls, El Capitane was not
on board), he legally had to get Das Boot docked at the nearest D-class
or better port.

"Bloody hell - paying _attention_ to licenses, paperwork, etc _in good
faith_ - that's a first for us" - Herr Sweep