Fleet Battle

Shocku queried the navigation computer for the 3rd time in as many seconds through his neural link to the ship's control systems. The cruiser class Rupture's was sitting within optimal range of the stargate, its projectile turrets were hot, combat drones deployed, and electronic warfare systems activated. The neocom was quiet, but Shocku knew that the other pilots in the fleet were in the same state of readiness. The scout had already signaled that the enemy fleet was in warp to the other side of the stargate.

Suddenly the gate flashed once, and the fleet knew that an enemy ship had come through and had a maximum 30 seconds of cloak time remaining. It was probably an enemy scout assessing the fleet. Within seconds the gate erupted in a strobe of flashes... the enemy was upon us and thought they could take us.

The navigation overview suddenly overflowed with targets as the enemy blob of ships materialized around us. Shocku listened as the Fleet Commander called out primary, secondary, and tertiary targets. He selected the primary, along with several other smaller ships that were close to his own. Two seconds later the primary target was locked and Shocku called out, "Point on Primary!" His electronic warfare systems were disrupting the target's warp engines so that it would not be able to disengage.

The cruiser's heads up display now showed target locks on two other cruisers within a few kilometers. Shocku instantly initiated an orbit around the closest target and activated his autocannons. The commands were issues to the gun commanders at the speed of light, their acknowledgments returning to him only after he saw the shields of the enemy fragmenting under his onslaught. Remembering his latest training in thermodynamics, Shock ordered the rate of fire increased beyond safe levels, knowing that the heat would damage the gunnery systems but that it could be contained if he was careful.

Suddenly overview indicated that an enemy battleship was targeting his cruiser. Shocku fought panic, remembering how earlier recon ships under his command had been blown to pieces seconds after being targeted. He had to remind himself that this was not a lightweight recon ship designed to avoid targeting, but a combat ship loaded with tungsten armor plating through which veins of adaptive nanites coursed. They flooded any breach and instantly hardened into new armor plating.

By the time his shield collapsed, Shocku has shifted his guns and EW systems to his fourth target. He kept a wary eye on his armor systems as they slowly turned red. Shocku locked the Drake and assigned all his cannons onto the Caldari ship. He then locked his navigation computer onto the first planet in the solar system and began aligning his ship towards it. If his armor systems began to fail, he would initiate the warp drive and disengage. Suddenly the Drake exploded into fragments under the combined fire of his fleet, and Shocku breathed a sigh of relief.

The battlefield was littered with wrecks, and he queried his engineer and crew commanders for damage reports. Shields were regenerating and armor was at 52%. 142 crewmembers were injured beyond capacity to do their jobs, and 19 had lost their lives due to accidents and catastrophic subsystem failures. 2 of them had gone out to the surface of the ship to repair a malfunctioning armor plate nanite system, and been swept off when the cruiser had turned abruptly to align its warp engines. Shocku saved off the list of families he would need to contact, the hardest part of his job.

Approaching the nearest wreck, his crew salvaged a number of tech level 2 components and specialized faction ammunition. There was enough value in salvage to pay for most of a new ship loadout. The battle had cost the enemy dearly, and hopefully demoralized them. If things continued to go so well, Shock hoped that eventually his corporation might claim sovereignty of these systems.

As the fleet began to reform, Shocku signaled the logistics pilot, "Armor Repair Needed!" Another pilot called out, "That was orgasmic!" and Shocku wished Vince could have been part of that battle.

Frustration

All is not well in Quer. Vince is getting frustrated. The CEO has talked about 'something in the works,' a big move that may be happening soon. Are we getting kicked out of the alliance? Why would this be, when we are the best darn fighters out there? Vince has continued ratting, hoping to take advantage of the millions in bounty, just sitting there. But ratting gets tedious. Sunday, he jumped down to low sec to help with a roaming mission. The officers basically said he wasn't needed, an Inty is now too slow, they wanted battleships. Well, there is another war on, making travel through Empire unsafe. And all the heavy iron is stuck in Quer or the Front Line. There presently isn't enough cash for 3 fully tech II fitted battleships, one in each location. The fractured, spread out nature of the corp is frustrating.

In A New Space

Shocku smiled as the image from the camera drone went white for an instant as the Blood Apostle battleship exploded under fire from his massive artillery cannons. He ignored the chime of his neocom for a moment as he ordered the drones in and set the navigator computer to warp the ship to the next belt. As his Maelstrom began slowly aligning, he ordered the crew to reload the gun magazines from the cargo hold. He wasn't sure if it was the hull or his ears that still resonated from the last volley of artillery, each shell almost a meter and a half in diameter.

As the warp bubble enveloped the battleship in null space, he relaxed for a moment and glanced at his neocom. It was a message from Avi, "Everyone doing well?" He quickly sent back, "Yeah, everything is great... killing Blood pirates for bounty to pay for ships". Shocku tried to remember a time when his last CEO had made such an inquiry, and came up with a blank. That man had been too absorbed in his own T2 industrial work to pay any attention to those filling the coffers.

The last week had been quite a ride, with lots of information to absorb. His screens were covered with windows and comm channels for corporate and alliance information. The Maelstrom dropped out of warp 70km from another group of Bloods, and the artillery fired with another bone jarring shudder only partially dampened by the massive gyroscopes. Shocku heard his new corpmates on the neocom chattering about the latest kills against the Northern Coalition. He couldn't wait for the day he could join them. He was determined to contribute to his new clan's fighting force.

Shocku watched fragments of the Blood ship scatter amongst the asteroids and smiled. Another bounty toward the purchase of the Rapier he had trained for so long.

A life of service.

The docking platform shuddered slightly as the shuttle completed the docking maneuver and deployed the grapples. Titanium pins dropped and metal pressed against cold steel. The metal door dropped to the deck with a hiss, and two platoons of armed guards deployed in long rows within the giant airlock, stretching out from the hatchway. Already, water vapor from within the space station was coating the exposed shuttle hull in a thin layer of ice. Its mother, a Typhoon class warship was still awash in heat from the maneuvering thrusters, and loomed in the center of the great station bay. Out of the swirl of mist stepped Vince Konruk. With an easy stride he passed between the columns, eyeing their uniforms and weapons with a critical gaze. As the main doors opened ahead, the contingent ran before him, marking time with each stride, all the way to the secure officers' quarters.

Konruk gazed out at his battleship being serviced in the great starbase bay. Thick ripples of blackened metal protruded in places, showing deep scars in the armor that almost penetrated to the very hull. In other places, gaping wounds could be seen, penetrating deep into the ship. The holes were black, except for the occasional spark that illuminated the depths. The wicked Amarr lasers had done that work. A crew of metalworkers were busy starting the repairs already, bringing their plasma torches to bear. One of the great projectile guns below the ship was so badly damaged, it seemed to crudely hang from its fittings. Farther to aft and topside, a missile launcher was venting thin jets of plasma, its access port jammed open with a melted hunk of twisted titanium, likely a piece of debris from an exploding Amarr wreck.

The weary captain almost shuddered, thinking back to the battle. He could still smell the stench of burning flesh in his nostrils. There is nothing as fearsome as lasers in a space fight. When in phase, they will shine right through shields. At the right frequency, they will melt armor like a hot knife through butter. When they touch the hull itself, they will burn right through, cooking and vaporizing the occupants in an instant. It had been a terrible battle. Immediately, as the ship dropped out of warp, multi-colored lasers reigned down fire from all sides. The great autocannons went to their gruesome work immediately, the missiles were given fly, but the Amarr ships were tough. Their disgusting slaver captains were determined. So determined, in fact, that not one of them left the deadspace pocket alive. But it was a costly battle, in lives and property.

Vince Konruk was becoming very well known among the Republic Security Services Corporation. After a long career of service in the Republic Fleet, his reputation was such that he could pick any private mercenary job he wished. When the Security Services recruiters came calling, it was just a matter of finishing the last tour. Vince was ready for a new post. The enemies were the same, but the post was deep in Caldari space. The pay was also much better in a private corporation. And the better his crew performed, the more enemies they destroyed, the more gold flowed into the coffers.

Now Vince muttered angrily as he pulled the steaming coffee from the autochef. No hot SynCof for him, only the pure juice of the Gallente bean, descended from those consumed in ancient France. This snobbery was almost shameful to him, an inexcusable cultivation of taste for a Minmater captain, picked up from friend Captain Platinum. Platinum's extensive trade connections made such luxuries possible, and he was worth keeping around. Vince had just gotten off the Telecom with his RSSC agent. The ugly man excitedly went through the details of the next mission, acting like it was a great new adventure, and a great chance to serve the corporation. This time the Republic was going to pay RSSC some big coin. What a chance! "Well, guess what?" Vince asked himself as he slammed the beaker down on the table. "The same damn mission I've done a hundred times!" This war is stagnating. The missions all seems the same, as if they were taking off of some master roster. The final win never comes. The money is usually a little more than the losses, he mused, but there was that time when an Amarr laser nearly cut the hull in half! Further, the loss of life is unending. It is a constant battle to learn the names of all the new crew that come, eager and willing to take their turn dying on his ship.

A new direction is needed, Vince realized, as he took a long draught on the hot coffee. It may be time to return to the badlands, the wild systems of the Outer Planets. Slowly, he stood up at this thought. Striding to the window, he gazed at the black curtain of stars beyond.

The Night Shift

Steky waved her hand and the lights came on in the corporate offices. As usual, she was the only one in the large brightly lit office. Approaching the monitor, she saw that two blueprint copies she had been working on had been finally printed by the sophisticated equipment out in the lap bays of the corporate station. She would have to fly a shuttle out there and pick them up at the end of her shift.

She opened the secure blueprint vault labeled "Ships and Weapons", knowing that very few people had access to such a huge array of blueprint originals, and that Shocku fought hard for his agents to raise the funds to pay for it. Unfortunately, most of the ship blueprints were for those of other races. Shocku had specifically asked her to find things that they could use themselves as well as sell.

Steky muttered as she flipped past the BPOs for Minmatar frigates. Slamming the vault closed in frustration, she opened the adjacent vault that had a vague name. There was file after file of tech 1 modules. The boys never used tech 1 stuff anymore, and didn't have time to play the markets, so most of it was pretty much useless. That and ships cost almost as much or more to produce as to buy on the market, with the cost of minerals. Perhaps she was in the wrong line of work, and the team's efforts would be better spent elsewhere.

As her slender fingers neared the back of the fileview, it took a moment to register what she was seeing, then her eyes widened. There were dozens of blueprints for rigs. Wiggin's words replayed in her mind, "Nobody uses tech 2 rigs!" That meant there should still be a good market for t1 rigs, and Shocku had just fitted 3 of them on his typhoon at 15 million isk apiece. Her fingers slid over the vault viewer, rapidly sorting the datalist. There they were! "Thermic Armor Pump I", "Kinetic Armor Pump I", "Nanobot Accelerator I", and many more. Tapping on the blue button, she opened the bill of materials for one, "90 charred circuits, 40 contaminated nanite pumps." She whistled through her teeth, so THAT was why they always got a good price on salvage. The market for these things was definitely alive and well.

Steky pulled selected the BPOs, deposited money into the corporate wallet, and initiated several copy jobs. Noticing they required datasheets, she put a buy order on the market and borrowed some from the corp. Double checking everything was in order, she walked over to the launch bay where her shuttle was waiting. It was time to pick up the blueprint copies from out at the corporate station. She lifted her hair and pressed her thumb against a button at the back of her collar. Her jumper immediately fell loosely to her slender ankles. Stepping out of it and into her pod, the pilot waited as the plasma filled the small space before suddenly inhaling and drowning herself. Her hair floating gracefully around her head, she engaged the controls to undock from the station.

Awakening

The humming sound slowly grew louder. It throbbed and pulsated. A dense, dark blanket of cold fog that covered his mind began a steady retreat. A flicker of consciousness sparked in the void. The warmth spread outward, and the icy cold retreated peripherally, dragging along a painful, tingling burn. The cold dissipated at the ends of fingers, ears, and toes, bursting into the air, replaced by the stab of millions of tiny needles. Suddenly, Vince was aware of his own thoughts. Frantically, he struggled to remember where he was. He remembered the depression. He remember the hopelessness, the utter despair, how he wanted it all to end. There were so many legal forms that needed his electronic signature. He remembered pressing the 'confirm' key, not once, but three times. The decision was not hard. Life had become too much. With a great sigh of relief, he had settled back into the warm ooze. The lid hissed and clicked into place. Vince held his breath as the gel quickly filled the small space where he was breathing. It filled his ears, then pushed into his nostrils. There was no pain or alarm as his body was instantly frozen. Now, the surgical neural scanner was making a faint clicking sound as it centered its alignment over his forehead. Alarm! Panic! Why was he here, awake, witnessing this?! He had already made his choice. His life was over, the sale was final. It was supposed to be over! The pain was supposed to be gone! But here he was, lying on a cold, hard table, covered in slime, having been rudely awakened from the cryo vat. He couldn't move a finger. Nothing worked. He couldn't even cry out or blink. Suddenly, he was blinded by white light as the scanner activated. Then, in the middle of the glare, he saw a tiny black speck. The blackness swelled, forming a deep, dark hole, that slowly expanded over him. The darkness was blacker and far colder than the depths of space. The darkness was nothing, complete void, complete loneliness. Suddenly, Vince felt a tearing sensation in his soul. Then, in one awful, painful instant, his consciousness ripped free and fell headlong into the dark hole.

Continuity of Mind

Capt Platinum bemoaned the fact that it was so hard to recruit good pilot clones for the team. The piloting clone contracts market was more like a street bazaar than a formal auction house. It did no good to place formal bids, the only thing that could get you a pilot clone released from his former contract was direct negotiations with the current holder.

"Have patience, Plat, there will always be another even if you aren't able to secure a particularly good clone you have your eyes on." Shocku understood the frustration though... it was hard to focus on continuing development of a pilot that would be imminently replaced by a far more highly trained clone.

Unlike jump clones where your mind shifts to one of your own clones, this non-traditional procedure involved jumping to a clone of a different pilot. While your mind remains more or less intact, you legally become that other person, assuming not only his skills but also standings, name, and relationships to others. While one can gain a lifetime of skills, it can also be very disconcerting.

Shocku scanned his comm for the owner of one of the clones Plat was looking at, and his comm blinked green. "Hey Capt, he is on now!" Plat kept him abreast as negotiations commenced and Shocku provided tips from his own experiences. In moments the negotiation was completed, the money transferred, and Capt Platinum jumped. "Whoa!" exclaimed Vince on his comm.

Shocku smiled, "Welcome to the team, Vince!"

Maneuvers Gone Wrong

The stargate pulsed and shot a sabre of energy across the cosmos as Capt Platinum orbited Thor’s Hammer at high velocity. Shocku selected the planet looming nearby and started the warp drive. A warning flashed up on his overview “Warp cannot be initiated due to interference. You are being warp scrambled.” Shocku suddenly broke into a smile, Capt had successfully scrammed his battleship with his little frigate. That would be very useful in real combat. Capt called over the com, “Can you hit me with your guns?” Shocku target locked the frigate and activated a couple of his 1400mm Artillery cannons. Slugs the diameter of a redwood tree hurled through space at the frigate, missing it like a hand swatting at a fly. Next he activated his mid sized autocannons. These fired projectiles only a fraction of the size, but could track much faster. Shocku glanced up at the overview and saw that Capt was halfway through armor, and quickly deactivated the autocannons. All was quiet for a moment, then suddenly a thunderous boom shook the ship as the artillery fired again. Shock looked in surprise and dismay as Capt’s frigate exploded in space, leaving only his capsule intact. “Capt, are you alright?! What happened, I forgot that artillery was still active, but didn’t think it would hit anyway.” Capt replied, “I activated my Microwarp drive and was moving away from you and went into range of your artillery. I forgot the great distance of those things… I was at 25km. Shocku sighed, “Yeah, my current fit has a range of 86km.” He then headed to station to get his salvager to save what he could of Capt’s wreck.

In their post mordem, the two pilots discussed lessons learned. The tackler will need to stay at range, whether close or far, until the target is destroyed by the unit he is supporting. Shocku suggests a smaller Microwarp or AB to make the capacitor last longer.

Later that night, after Capt has gone to bed, Shocku still feels a bit bad about scuttling his Frig, but has an idea. Could he fit a “Sniper Maelstrom?” Working with the fitting tool, he comes up with a fitting that will allow him to track and hit a target at a distance of 200km with 8 rounds of 1400mm artillery.

Coffee

"Captain, incoming transmission," called Ensign Laurette. She tossed back her cropped dark hair as she handed over the earbug. Capt noted with wonder how fine French lineage could still be present after so many centuries away from the One Mother Earth. The Ensign was turning slowly into a first class bridge assistant, even though her primary role was at the gunnery site controls. A lack of recent battles had given her more flex time, and her commanding officer was making sure she didn't get bored. Boredom can be a killer for smart, energetic ones, Capt rationalized. He had been giving her more time at the helm, and she seemed to enjoy the thrill of swinging the hulking battleship through the asteroid fields. There's nothing like having life and death in your hands to keep you alert. Capt recalled how well she had done the previous night. He allowed her to position the ship onto the warp gate accelerator just before going into battle. Officer LaForte quickly took his place back before warp engagement, but for a few minutes, the perspiration was glistening on her forehead as she worked to swing the giant Stryker arms into correct alignment. She said, "Yes sir! No problem!" but Capt knew it would be some time before she could take the heat of battle at the helm. Stretching crew members and giving them a chance to show individual talent, the captain surmised, was a fine reflection of Gallente social principles.
"This is your third call in so many minutes," said Platinum, trying not to show his irritation. Shocku was on the com again. He had grown so excited with his interviews, he was practically panting over the neocom. "I've found a great all-around industrial pilot. She has great skills, and can even fly a Cap ship." "Did we not want a focused scientist Shocku?" Capt asked. "Well, I got her off her contract cheap, and it was a good deal," said Shocku. "And by the way, you now owe me two and a half billion credits..." Platinum noticed Laurette staring at his hands. He looked down and realized he was white-knuckled, almost breaking the armrest off the command chair. He took a deep breath and punched up some financial screens on the display. This new capsuleer was so hot-headed at times. "Okay, Shocku, no problem," he lied. "I've got the money right here. She better be good!" "Well, she certainly has a nice face" was Shocku's reply. Captain wondered what that had to do with science, but was glad the ol' Shockmaster was happy with her. "Just make sure I get an appointment with her ASAP for an interview, the ISK has been transferred." Captain settled back in the seat, a reflective expression coming to his face. "I sure hope we will learn how to share command of such a bright young contractor."
"Come" said Captain. The privacy doors hissed their retreat into the walls as Ensign Laurette appeared in the doorway. "You called for me, my captain?" "Yes, please have a seat." Platinum was just taking two large beakers of steaming coffee from the autosynth. "I have a particular treat for you today, young Ensign. What you are about to try, likely for the first time, is a cup of 'coffee'. This isn't the synthetic coffee the traders haul across the cosmos. This is the incredibly rare, steaming liquid extract from the grounds of a bean that traces its roots back to Mother Earth. It is now grown only in careful viticulture under the rays of certain yellow stars of the Gallente system. The descendants of the French are particularly fond of the flavor, and the real beans are incredibly rare. But enough of this, here is your cup." "Thank you, sir, but may I ask why you are wasting this fluid on an uncultured palate?" "Well, it is simple, Ensign. You have begun to distinguish yourself among my crew. You handle yourself well under pressure. I know you have a mathematics and science background, but I've also seen the pleasure with which you grasp the till of this great ship. What would you think about working toward the Helm?" "That would be fabulous sir!" "Okay, I'll change the duty roster and you will have some extra time for navigation training. I see you haven't touched the coffee." "I'm sorry sir," she said, "but it just smells terrible." "We'll work on training your palate as well, then." said Captain Platinum, as he lifted his dark beaker of hot steaming liquid to his lips.

Building the Roster

Shocku continued scanning through potential applications from candidates on his neocom. There was an endless list of capsule pilots looking for work, but very few of them fit both his budget and requirements for an industrial support pilot. Should he hire a rookie just out of school and spend years training them, or should he pay more for an experienced pilot. In the case of the latter, the skills had to be ones their team could use.

After passing over the application from yet another pinched Caldari, a pretty face caught his eye. She was Minmatar, but had double the amount of skills he was looking for. Overqualified... but a Rorque Pilot. Wow! His remembered their days in Fountain, reliant on someone else to jump their goods back and forth from Empire. It also looked like she could operate an assembly line and a refinery with efficiency, not to mention ice mining. It looked like this girl had the potential for being an isk maker for their team.

Shocku contacted Stecky for an interview and asked about her skills. Although Shocku liked her versatility, her lack of specialization put her at a disadvantage from a price perspective. They discussed this and haggled over price. She wanted 6 bil to buy out her contract. Shocku had spoken to Capt Platinum and their upper limit was 5bil. His bid for Steky was 4.5bil, a fairly low price, but in line with her skills. In the end, they closed the deal for 4.85 bil. Shocku was pleased, and contacted Capt Platinum with the news. It was pointless to discuss her qualifications, as Capt Platinum couldn't tear his eyes off her snapshot.

Shocku converted some assets and looked at his portfolio. That was it. There was nothing left to liquefy into isk, and he would have to sell Grievance's contract to get back to a positive balance. He hoped Tapper would be able to make the purchase. It was all good though, he had managed to put together an excellent team with great potential.

Shocku - Combat Specialist, Tech 2 Battleships
Capt Platinum - Combat, Mining, Industry... Shocku wondered if Capt would hire another combat pilot and focus on laboratory research and trade.
Grievance - Combat Specialist, Support
Stecky - Capital Mining, jump ship pilot, covert transport, overall support.
Tapper Lans - Jr. Pilot, looking to hire Grievance

With a smile Shocku knew their team had a lot to offer, it was clear that he didn't do anything half assed.

Big Guns

The metal steps echo loudly as Captain Platinum descends the metal tube. There are certain shortcuts that can be found when one really knows a starship. This particular tube is usually used for maintenance, but at this time happens to be the fastest route from engineering to the cargo bays forward. Perspiration beads on his forehead, more from anger and frustration than any warmth found in the cold ship.
The captain was staring out the window. Seated in the Command Throne, he enjoyed a high view from the center of the bridge The twin forward Stryker arms of the new Gallente Megathron stretched powerfully ahead. The gentle curve of the metal glistened in the sun, almost sensuous in its organic, undulating shape. Thrusters flashed brightly as the drones launched from central bay, so prominent on this ship. Just then, the 24 year old ensign walked between the captain and his view. "Striking, how the curve of her thigh looks so similar in its lines to the imposing stretch of metal beyond the screen," he thought. "Huh, Captain?" The intercom suddenly broke through his daydream with a static hiss. "What is it, Legrand," the captain barked. "Sir, you better come down here now. Look at my manifest screen in engineering, and then I'll meet you in cargo bay 18."
The long, black, carbon-fiber cartons lay open in the hold. Glistening in the packgel were long metal tubes that gleamed with their lethality. The crates were so large that the chief engineer was already on top of a tall lift, just to see inside. "What is this now?" called Platinum from below. "I don't understand it," said Legrand, "I ordered these Modal Mega Neutron Particle Accelerators, just as you said. But they are definitely not what I expected. They look like they will fit the ship fine, but my crew has no idea how to install them. It seems they have not been trained on this equipment..."
"But they were supposed to receive installation training a month ago," interrupted the captain.
"Exactly, sir, but we were called away early to help Shocku on that messy matter with the Serpentis."
"Enough of this, you get your men trained, and I want these guns operational by the end of the week!"
Flying this new battleship was a dream come true. Captain Platinum had no idea how many more obstacles would appear before the great beast was ready for the rigors of deep space.
"Ensign Laurette, to the bridge please!"

Coffee in the Corridor

Shocku grabs his coffee and heads out the door of his suite aboard the Thor's Hammer. The vac hardened portal swooshes open and he almost runs into Grievance. He looks down at his shirt and watches as the slosh of coffee that spilled is attacked by nanobots, beads up into little balls, and boils away. Dust falls slowly to the corrugated flooring where it will soon be consumed by the cleaning beetles. "Good work on the salvaging last night, Grieve. We made over 16 million just on the stuff we sold!"

Grievance grins, "Nothing to it Shock, you and our corpmates did all the shooting."

Shocku nods, "Yeah, well it was a bit nervewracking being the tank on a level 4 mission against the Serpentis, but we had plenty of help. We will have to be able to do it on our own soon I think, but hopefully Capt Plat will be around with his..." Shocku pauses to think, "Is that hulking thing called an Armageddon? I still don't know all the Gallentean battleship classes."

Grievance runs his hand along the bulkhead of the Minmatar ship where form follows function and shakes his head, "Couldn't tell you, they all look like bugs to me."

"Speaking of classes, I noticed you haven't done a whole lot of specialization in missiles."

Shocku looks at Grieve, "You do know that as Minmatar we have to know both Gunnery and Missiles?"

Grievance nods, "Yeah, yeah, its just that you had me study up on my science so I could operate those tractor beams for that salvaging you were just beaming about. Say, you don't have a book on cruise missiles do you?"

Shocku touches his temple, activating an implant, and stares into space for a moment, "Aye, I have one in Scuelazyns. Its more than 5 jumps off but I hate to buy another one. Lets take our shuttles."

Looking longingly at Shocku's cup of coffee, Grievance groans and then heads to the docking bay, "Just how I wanted to spend my time before breakfast."

Shocku follows after him, walking carefully so as not to spill any more of his coffee, and calls after Grieve, "Just think how glad Tapper will be when you learn how to launch those cruises!"

As his shuttle shoots out the launching bay, Shocku swears under his breath seeing that he just missed Babe as she docks her destroyer. He met her salvaging their wrecks on another mission, and it would have been nice to chat her up a bit in station.

Still a Human Touch

Shocku turns his head slightly to the left from the holoscreen and gazes at the locks of auburn hair flowing around the finely featured face of the girl suspended over the sleeping platform. After sensing its occupant was asleep, it had reduced its gravity field allowing her to float in perfect comfort. Her smooth milky skin undamaged by the rays of an open sky is accented by pink nipples that match her lips. The sleeping platform, and the girl in it, are just one of the luxuries afforded to capsule pilots like himself. In fact, he has leased this entire floor of the station, though each time he undocks it can never be known if he will return from the dust of oblivion.

Her eyebrows furrow a bit in her sleep and she presses her thighs together. The curved form of her body rolls softly in the air from the slight movement. Glancing back a few seconds later, her hair continues in its orbit around the beauty of her now peaceful face. Aye, she would sleep well given the chance. He looks back to the holo.

BEGIN TRANSMISSION

System: Aunia
Station: Federation Navy Assembly Plant
Empire Datetime: 10285.34.1
From: Shocku Arc
To: Captain Platinum
Subject: Delegation

Greetigns Capt,
I hope this message finds you very late in the morning after a wonderful night stationside. I have pondered your transmission and understand your concerns, which I think come in two parts. First, I honestly think that no man can do everything well. The training would take a lifetime. One must specialize and delegate. As discussed before, I am sure we can hire an industrial pilot who will do a fine job of production under your direction. An ideal candidate would be able to handle not only production, but also the supply chain including mining, hauling, and refining. Your experience earlier in your career will be invaluable in managing his work. Secondly, I think you need to pull up your old Polymorph Psychology books. The techniques for managing your consciousness while transferring between minds are invaluable right from the start when considering such a cloning operation. I can assure you that I feel completely myself, with very little sense of loss concerning my Rask clone, despite the hard work that went into developing his career. Not only is a whole new world of space operations opened up to me, I still retain the experiences and practical training gathered before the cloning procedure. Keeping in mind that you will also be busy directing our new industrial pilot, you must only decide what level of investment and combat you wish to engage in yourself. You can then decide if you wish to continue with your current clone, or move up to another. As far as getting used to a new body... a night spent with a pretty wench like the one floating next to me will certainly get you in touch with it!

END OF TRANSMISSION

Shocku slides his finger slowly along the control panel of the platform, watching as the girl settles gently down onto the surface. He then slides it a bit further, grinning as she is pulled flat on her back against its higher than normal gravity. She opens her eyes partly and gazes at him with a smile as he double taps and climbs onto the platform. Its program will now vary as the cold of space is forgotten in the warmth of human touch.

New Directions

I am sending this transmission from ForeRight, a small pub with a spectacular view, it is perched at the tip of the starboard control wing on the Silver Sword. Our faithful ship is a battlecruiser of the Gallente faction. My beaker of lager is kept slightly cool by the icy,laminar flow of air sinking from the expanse of plexiglass that makes possible this incredible vista. Serving girls keep drifting by to check on me, but I am lost in thought. New options as a Gallente officer are stretching before me like the great black sheet of nothing beyond the window. In the distance are the bright, knife-like projections from the glowing stars in the next galaxy.
I've spent the last year in rigorous education. My company has depended upon my leadership for numerous roles. We have spent countless hours watching displays and the gauges of mining drills, taping the rich core from giant rocks floating in the void. We have felt the adrenaline course through our veins while blasting pirates from the 'roid belts. We have ventured into the deepest regions of the outer planets, the Wildlands and Skaven, struggling against the most fearsome capsuleers and pirates alike. All the while, I have trained the skills so desperately needed by my loyal crews. Now I find myself with a host of abilities, but complete master in no area. Is mastery of a narrow field the ultimate goal? Is knowing more about far less our vision?
Others have pushed ahead with shocking mind transplants, vat clones, and other tricks. Maybe a clone of my body with a transplanted brain would give my crew the edge they need...
The questions continue to haunt my rapidly fogging consciousness, as the lager beakers continue to pour. A new direction in the military would be exciting but expensive. Engineering is a great field, and the corporation has countless blueprints from which to build. Among the outer planets, there float mountain size rocks made almost entirely of solid gold, diamond, and silver. The strip miners are dusty, but sit expectantly in the lower cargo holds. Confusions settles on me like the ethanol cloud.

Thor's Hammer

I am hung up aboard "Thor's Hammer" as the chief engineer goes over logs from our fight against the Amarr comparing shield performance against expected norms. Having just come from the armor tanking battlecruiser "Dirt Devil" to the shield tanking Maelstrom, we are both not sure what to expect. The three capacitor rigs seem to have done their job however, as it shows the booster had to fire a very low percent of the time. In fact, my engineer is impressed that it was far less than we had to run the armor repper on Dirt Devil. The frown that he has worn since boarding is starting to be replaced by a grin. Uppp, hold on a sec, here he is with his report.... Ok, everything is good I am STRONGLY encouraged to look into getting a whole fleet of tech 2 drones to allay his biggest fear of getting scrammed in this monstrosity.

Ok, he has gone off to the station bar to meet with some Gallentean wench. That give me a few moments to address all these latest changes with you my friend. It must be somewhat disconcerting to bring on a new pilot and have him suddenly move up to battleship class piloting, especially after all the training and work you have put in to get to where you are now. When I received word from my trust manager that I had inherited an extremely large sum from an uncle on the planet Gor, I couldn't resist looking into the new cloning procedure. My manager and I hit some snags on the business deal, but it finally went through. Now I just have to deal with the disconcerting psychological issues of being in a different clone body, and how my friends will relate to me. I want to assure you that I am just as committed as before to our joint enterprise. In fact, it is quite possible that I will now be even more dependent on you in joint operations, as many of my skills require the support of more nimble ships. If we work together, we can bring the hammer of justice to the slavers, free the Minmatar who remain under slavery, and bring a moral purpose and direction to the Gallentean capital machine.

I have an idea I wanted to discuss with you. I see two challenges before us... Our new pilot friend Tapper seems to be absolutely loving his new career as a capsuleer. However, I am concerned that the joy will turn to frustration if he accompanies us on level 4 missions and gets his ship popped every time he gets aggro. Secondly, I think we need to bring a new pilot into our little enterprise. Someone who is really good at science, research, and industry. We could task him with building the ships and mods we will need, and he could tag along for salvaging and hauling tasks. So here is my proposition... as you know, the business snags I ran into on my clone procedure landed me and extra clone named Grievance. He has about the same level of skills as you do, and I suggest we encourage Tapper to purchase Grievance. That would enable him to much better participate in ops with us. I could then use the capital to hire the researcher/industrialist. The industrialist would report directly to you for his research assignments. I might have him tag along now and then on ops, but you would be director of production for our team. Please let me know what you think, and then we can talk to Tapper if you agree. Otherwise I will dispose of Grievance at my convenience to procure the funds for the industrialist.

Finally, it looks like I have four days until I can begin training Capital Ships. There are all different kinds and different levels, but out of curiosity I looked at the Roq in evemon, found a highly rated fitplan, and created a training plan. It will take me under two months to fly a Roq fully fitted with clone vats, jump drive, and the works. If I acquire these skills, it might be possible to get Lord Wiggin to buy the ship itself for me. In this case, our little team would become quite an asset to this or any other corp, leading to officer positions I am sure. Personally, I will be refusing such positions, but you might be interested in an industrial position to gain access to corporate resources that might bring us cash flow.

Well, I guess its time to see if I might find my own Gallentean wench somewhere aboard this station. I hear that they are far less inhibited than Minmatar girls, and can turn a neat trick.

Signing off,
Shocku