Operation: Mutant of the Seas - Log 6

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Emma and North are able to identify the potential owners of the cruise ship



Emperor of the Seas. At first glance, it looked like any other cruise ship. More richly appointed, perhaps. No children in the lines to board the ship and a steady stream of expensive cars dropping off well-dressed people with pricy luggage at the dock. A cruise line for the 1% on the surface.

"Why isn't she the Empress of the Seas?" asked Emma, almost, but not quite, idly. "Ships are women in... most countries of the world? How many countries think their boats are male?"

"Germany and France at times. Some North American and Asian ships have male names as well, even if they are mostly referred to in feminine form. Russia almost always," North listed, narrowed eyes scanning the footage from the vessel in question on one monitor while the computer next to it ran a dizzying display of rolling numbers. "Genosha."

"It does seem to come back to that one, doesn't it?" replied Emma, letting her herself carry on the conversation even as she pulled apart the financial information displayed on her tablet, keeping only half an eye on the footage they'd obtained of the ship at various points in the Emperor's voyages. "So, if our Emperor cost $800 million to build, who do you think would have the money to buy it outright? Because somebody had that kind of money. Or a little more, because Royal Caribbean Lines were willing to sell her after they commissioned her, so maybe a few hundred million on top of that to make it worth their while to sell it before it even launched."

North hummed in agreement and, as if on cue, the printer whirred to life and proceeded to chuck out a sheet of paper, which he retrieved after hitting pause on the video he had been staring at for far longer than was healthy. Blinking down at the data Doug's program had churned out, he handed it over to Emma once his vision had righted itself. "Seems like just a little over 1.2 billion over multiple transactions? No bets that they come from one source."

He typed in a line of code for the program to run its next function and angled the screen for her better viewing before letting the footage continue to play. "I would, however, bet that the crew behaviour is too uniformly military-like for them to be private contractors."

"Depends on the private contractor," Emma mused, thinking of certain companies that were far too enthusiastic about uniforms and saluting - more so than many members of various militaries that she knew. She scanned the details that North had given her of the transactions that had provided the bulk of the funds that had purchased the Emperor, and then began to pull information out a number of databases that it may not possibly be quite legal for her to have access to. "You know some of these things better than I do - do you think they're the kind of people who are used to wearing uniforms or the kind of people who like to wear uniforms? Or," she raised a somewhat amused eyebrow, "both?"

“Considering that they are dressed up like parade monkeys? Probably both.” North said, referring to the crew’s bleached-white uniforms. He zoomed in the screen as he elaborated. “Watch their mannerisms and habits – that click of heels and postured gait. That chap looks like he is holding a rifle while on patrol. Or you may observe their interactions. There is an organised but fairly layered hierarchy they are abiding by, which indicates that these are not rich pirates or hired commercial seamen. No. They are most likely navy, or, as you say, private contractors run like one.”

His explanation petered out as he started shifting the video feed around, zooming in on several sections before settling on a bald figure seated on a deck chair by the pool. "Or, I suppose, this would be a more telling observation."

Emma leaned forward towards North's screen and then back out again, as she studied the figure closely. Before she could respond, her own screen gave a gentle ping and she looked back towards it, reading the information Doug's program was presenting to her. "Well, in what is now utterly unsurprising news," she said, "it appears that at least some of the money that paid for the Emperor is Genoshan in origin. There's a few more shells to go through for all of it, but I don't think it'll indicate anything different."

Abandoning the video feed, North ruffled through a stack of papers next to the monitor and tugged out a slim folder, which opened to reveal the vessel's convention paperwork, certificates and-- "Crew manifest," he explained, moving over to another computer to start re-running the ID searches. "Submitted at their last port of call."

They worked in silence for a while, save for the occasional swapping of observations. Until North stood from seat with a sigh at having his suspicions confirmed. He handed Emma the tablet he had synced up to the computer, the ID search on the vessel's registered master displayed on the screen. "That was probably a mutate on the deck."

Emma nodded thoughtfully. "I think it was certainly a mutate on the deck," she responded. "Because there's a Magistrate on board and they always loved to have their pets around them." Any feelings that Emma may have had about Magistrates and mutates was lost in her heavily ironic tone. "I don't believe I ever met him on Genosha, but the name of the Captain is very familiar." She clicked at the screen and a picture of a heavy-set man, who was wearing the smart Captain's uniform with the unmistakable look of a man who would take his power all too seriously, flashed up on the screen. "And I just managed to pull this out of the database and cross it with what we have. I think we can confirm that Herbert Mudd, ex-Genoshan Magistrate, is the Captain of the good ship SS Mutate-Carrier." She sighed and dropped her hands from the keyboard. "I think we've got enough to take back to the others."