Steky walked briskly into the briefing room aboard the Cascade Essence, a Nidhoggur class carrier. Her boots clanked against the metal deck as her assembled officers quickly rose to attention. She brushed an insubordinate lock of hair from her eyes and called out "As you were!" The fighter pilots, drone control officers, hanger controllers, and other deck officers sat back down in the leather seats and listened. They were no longer milk run carrier officers, and now had the discipline and bearing of soldiers with combat experience. The Cascade Essence had participated in Atlas' capital battle for HZF against Legion of Death, Pandemic Legion, and others. Not only had she survived the battle, taking down numerous enemy dreadnoughts, but they had proceeded to destroy dozens of enemy station towers in the Detorid region.
The briefing began. Atlas was seiging the last remaining enemy holdout in Deterid, the solar system designated 77S8-E. Steky went over the lessons from previous engagements, reminding the sentry drone officers not to deploy after coming out of warp at an enemy tower until the carrier was moving less than 20km per second. The navigation officers were to ensure that the ship maintained range with the enemy tower in case her attention was elsewhere. The pilot could control any subsystem at the speed of thought, but even so her attention had limited bandwidth.
Suddenly Steky stopped in mid word and then called out, "Battlestations!" The lights went red and the men and women scrambled. The Atlas fleet commander had ordered capitals to undock and jump to a cynosaural field in the 77S8 solar system. As the carrier left the station hangar, the space around the station was cluttered with dreadnoughts and carriers. It was a wonder that the station's traffic control system could manage.
Suddenly the fabric of space rippled as the capital ships engaged their jump drives and the stars winked out. Steky quickly shifted to a camera drone within the engine room. Looking the view from the external cams mid jump would be like trying to look out the back of your head, through eyes that weren't there. It lasted only a second or two, and then space was suddenly filled with the glowing rings of a giant gas planet and the shimmering light reflecting off the hulls of over 100 dreadnoughts hanging in space above the rings like an overturned box of jewelery.
The fleet warped to the first enemy tower and the crew ran the ship like a well oiled machine. The sentry drones deployed with their giant rifles hurling explosive warheads through the shields into the control tower. A few minutes later the fleet commander called for a carrier to light a cynosaural field so that more dreads could jump into system. Steky grimaced and acknowledged his request. It would mean that her carrier would be unable to move out of the cyno field for ten full minutes.
About 7 minutes later an enemy stealth bomber dropped out of warp amongst the capital fleet. Steky immediately started locking the tiny ship, but it took the computers what seemed an eternity to lock onto it. In that time the bomber deployed its bombs. The damage they did was insignificant to the capitals, but did enough damage to the sentry drones that three of them were unable to engage their propulsion systems. The enemy tower suddenly began burning ozone and went into reinforced mode. There was nothing more to be done until its ozone supply was depleted some hours later. As soon as her cynosaural field was down, the fleet warped to the next engagement. Steky engaged her warp drive just as two of the three damaged drones made it back to the hangar. One lonely sentry remained behind, its propulsion systems fragged beyond repair.
Friday, July 17, 2009
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
The Gray Waters of Morality
Grievance set his comm system to transmit queries on regular intervals to any other human ships that might have entered the unknown system through the same or other wormholes. The queries offered ISK to any pilot who could give the location of a wormhole out. After several weeks of fighting sleepers, their ragtag fleet was low on supplies.
Suddenly a transmission came through from a human Buzzard class craft. "Coordinates of a wormhole transmitting" Grievance entered them into the navigation computer and engaged the warp drive. They landed near a tiny wormhole that appeared near collapse just after the Buzzard disappeared through it. There was a distinct possibility that it would not support the mass of his ship, let alone the rest of their small fleet. Darkside's battleship would certainly not make it. Grievance had not only his own crew, but also the six thousand man crew of Darkside's ship to think about. He had to get out in order to guide a corp mate with a prober back to the wormhole to guide Dark's battleship out.
Grievance saw Voyk's Thorax and Daniel's pod drop out of warp next to the wormhole. He had anticipated the possibility of this scenario the moment he accepted the others to his fleet. The capsuleer parted the gray waters of morality and space with the knife of energy transmitted by his warp disruptor at Voyk's ship.
Voyk's Thorax met the challenge and burned towards him, his lasers flashing into the Rupture's shields. Grievance activated his autocannons and loosed his drones on the Thorax. Looking with concern as the shields dropped along with the range to the Thorax, Grievance was concerned that his long range barrage cannons would be able to track and pulsed his micro warpdrive. It was not needed as he could clearly see that the Thorax armor was melting much faster than his own, and he hadn't even activated his repper yet. "He transmitted a message to Voyk's pod emerging from the crumbling ship, "Safe journeys" knowing full well that only the capsuleer would awaken in a clone vat as his crew boiled and froze in the unknown space of a distant galaxy. Voyk transmitted, "Good flying" just before his pod burst under the autocannons. Daniel's pod was next, some men could never bring themselves to self destruct and face death even though they knew their clone would awaken once again. Death was death.
As debris floated around the Rupture and began to swirl around the event horizon of the tiny wormhole, Grievance transmitted to Darkside, "I will be back, God willing"
As his ship fell through the liquid watercolors and came out on the other side, Grievance watched his navigation computers with hope turned to acid as they reported, "Unknown Constellation. Unknown System. Uncharted Planets..."
Suddenly a transmission came through from a human Buzzard class craft. "Coordinates of a wormhole transmitting" Grievance entered them into the navigation computer and engaged the warp drive. They landed near a tiny wormhole that appeared near collapse just after the Buzzard disappeared through it. There was a distinct possibility that it would not support the mass of his ship, let alone the rest of their small fleet. Darkside's battleship would certainly not make it. Grievance had not only his own crew, but also the six thousand man crew of Darkside's ship to think about. He had to get out in order to guide a corp mate with a prober back to the wormhole to guide Dark's battleship out.
Grievance saw Voyk's Thorax and Daniel's pod drop out of warp next to the wormhole. He had anticipated the possibility of this scenario the moment he accepted the others to his fleet. The capsuleer parted the gray waters of morality and space with the knife of energy transmitted by his warp disruptor at Voyk's ship.
Voyk's Thorax met the challenge and burned towards him, his lasers flashing into the Rupture's shields. Grievance activated his autocannons and loosed his drones on the Thorax. Looking with concern as the shields dropped along with the range to the Thorax, Grievance was concerned that his long range barrage cannons would be able to track and pulsed his micro warpdrive. It was not needed as he could clearly see that the Thorax armor was melting much faster than his own, and he hadn't even activated his repper yet. "He transmitted a message to Voyk's pod emerging from the crumbling ship, "Safe journeys" knowing full well that only the capsuleer would awaken in a clone vat as his crew boiled and froze in the unknown space of a distant galaxy. Voyk transmitted, "Good flying" just before his pod burst under the autocannons. Daniel's pod was next, some men could never bring themselves to self destruct and face death even though they knew their clone would awaken once again. Death was death.
As debris floated around the Rupture and began to swirl around the event horizon of the tiny wormhole, Grievance transmitted to Darkside, "I will be back, God willing"
As his ship fell through the liquid watercolors and came out on the other side, Grievance watched his navigation computers with hope turned to acid as they reported, "Unknown Constellation. Unknown System. Uncharted Planets..."
The Unknown
Grievance almost lost his stomach as his ship came to rest. His navigation computer flashed "Unknown Solar System... Unknown Constellation... Uncharted Planet" Space rippled around him again as the other ships in their fleet arrived. Grievance warped to a planet and marked safe spots en route should he need a random point in space to escape from any threat. He then began scanning. Many anomalies showed up, and he called out to the fleet, "I have some kind of dead space installation on scan, shall we check it out?" Daniel and Voyk responded "Aye" and he warped the squad to the unknown installation.
As they dropped out of warp, Grievance saw an enormous installation with two frigate and two cruiser sized spacecraft of unknown type lying dead in space. He looked around and saw asteroids composed of valuable minerals in the vicinity. Suddenly, the unknown craft came to life, as if awakened from a long sleep. His ship was instantly locked and missile spat from tubes that were obviously launchers. Grievance immediately called "Battlestations!" and activated the Damage Control teams. He then selected a nearby planet and began alignment sequence. Only then did he lock the unknown craft with his targetting computer and activate his guns. A bright flash of plasma momentarily blinded his plasma gun as Daniel's ship exploded next to him.
A missile struck and Grievance watched as his shield fell to 55% from the single strike. Fortunately his autocannons were eating into the Sleeper's armor. Another missile hit their aft section, and shields collapsed. Damage control teams were already busy mitigating damage to the ship's armor and hull. A Sleeper frigate melted under his fire and Griev initiated warp to the nearby planet. Only by warping back several times was he able to destroy the sleepers and loot their wrecks of what appeared to be ancient databanks.
His cargohold full of artifacts retrieved from the Sleeper wrecks, Grievance called for Daniel's pod and Voyk's Thorax cruiser to head back to the wormhole. As they dropped out of warp, a fleet of battleships flashed onto his overview. Paying his tiny cruiser no mind, they entered the wormhole causing space to melt and splash like a pebble thrown into a pond. Suddenly it was as if a bubble burst and the wormhole was gone. Grievance called Cobra on the comm and asked his location,
"Oh, I am outside, I went back to station to get some supplies" replied Cobra cheerily.
Grievance's tone was flat, "The wormhole collapsed"
"Oh well, you are outside, aren't you?
"Inside" Grievance switched from the corporate comm to fleet. The corp might as well be in another galaxy, for in fact they were.
"Any of you have a probe launcher?" Grievance hoped that at least they might find another wormhole leading back to somewhere in New Eden. Both Darkside and Voyk responded negative.
"Then we are fucked!"
As they dropped out of warp, Grievance saw an enormous installation with two frigate and two cruiser sized spacecraft of unknown type lying dead in space. He looked around and saw asteroids composed of valuable minerals in the vicinity. Suddenly, the unknown craft came to life, as if awakened from a long sleep. His ship was instantly locked and missile spat from tubes that were obviously launchers. Grievance immediately called "Battlestations!" and activated the Damage Control teams. He then selected a nearby planet and began alignment sequence. Only then did he lock the unknown craft with his targetting computer and activate his guns. A bright flash of plasma momentarily blinded his plasma gun as Daniel's ship exploded next to him.
A missile struck and Grievance watched as his shield fell to 55% from the single strike. Fortunately his autocannons were eating into the Sleeper's armor. Another missile hit their aft section, and shields collapsed. Damage control teams were already busy mitigating damage to the ship's armor and hull. A Sleeper frigate melted under his fire and Griev initiated warp to the nearby planet. Only by warping back several times was he able to destroy the sleepers and loot their wrecks of what appeared to be ancient databanks.
His cargohold full of artifacts retrieved from the Sleeper wrecks, Grievance called for Daniel's pod and Voyk's Thorax cruiser to head back to the wormhole. As they dropped out of warp, a fleet of battleships flashed onto his overview. Paying his tiny cruiser no mind, they entered the wormhole causing space to melt and splash like a pebble thrown into a pond. Suddenly it was as if a bubble burst and the wormhole was gone. Grievance called Cobra on the comm and asked his location,
"Oh, I am outside, I went back to station to get some supplies" replied Cobra cheerily.
Grievance's tone was flat, "The wormhole collapsed"
"Oh well, you are outside, aren't you?
"Inside" Grievance switched from the corporate comm to fleet. The corp might as well be in another galaxy, for in fact they were.
"Any of you have a probe launcher?" Grievance hoped that at least they might find another wormhole leading back to somewhere in New Eden. Both Darkside and Voyk responded negative.
"Then we are fucked!"
Liquid Watercolors
Grievance listened to his corp mates intercepting another automated hauler in Yong and rolled his eyes. Not worth even undocking. He turned his attention to the current events on the news comm. Anomalies were not only destroying planets, but seemed to be opening up wormholes to systems in distant galaxies. Some had gone through, and encountered strange and powerful technologies. Suddenly a transmission came in from Cobra Khan on the Maverick Navy channel, "Hey guys, I have a wormhole on scan... anyone want to come help me check it out?" Grievance raised his eyebrow, this was something new, something important. He engaged the transmitter, "This is Griev, 19 jumps out and on my way!"
Grievance engaged his warp drive to the vicinity of the wormhole. Several moments later, his Rupture dropped out of warp and he saw something that had not been seen by men in New Eden for thousands of years, when the Eve wormhole colapsed. This event sent his ancestores into the dark ages, destined to claw their way back up to the stars all over again the hard way.
"What do you think?" asked Cobra.
"Do you have any probes?"
"You bet, over one hundred"
"Well, then we should be able to find our way out... if the way out lasts long enough." Grievance thought about the possible mystery, wonder, and possible riches of being one of the first men in New Eden to explore a wormhole.
Two other ships from the local system joined their fleet, along with another corp mate Darkside.
Grievance opened the internal ship comms to his crew, "Whoever does not want to follow our ancestors into the unknown may take escape pods off the ship now and report back to corporate headquarters without repercussions." He watched the ship systems and not one pod activated. Grievance laughed, proud of his crew, "Alrighty then Mavs, Penis up!"
He set his ship on approach to the gravity well and the world turned to liquid watercolors.
Grievance engaged his warp drive to the vicinity of the wormhole. Several moments later, his Rupture dropped out of warp and he saw something that had not been seen by men in New Eden for thousands of years, when the Eve wormhole colapsed. This event sent his ancestores into the dark ages, destined to claw their way back up to the stars all over again the hard way.
"What do you think?" asked Cobra.
"Do you have any probes?"
"You bet, over one hundred"
"Well, then we should be able to find our way out... if the way out lasts long enough." Grievance thought about the possible mystery, wonder, and possible riches of being one of the first men in New Eden to explore a wormhole.
Two other ships from the local system joined their fleet, along with another corp mate Darkside.
Grievance opened the internal ship comms to his crew, "Whoever does not want to follow our ancestors into the unknown may take escape pods off the ship now and report back to corporate headquarters without repercussions." He watched the ship systems and not one pod activated. Grievance laughed, proud of his crew, "Alrighty then Mavs, Penis up!"
He set his ship on approach to the gravity well and the world turned to liquid watercolors.
Thursday, January 22, 2009
Don't cry, its just your spaceship!
Shocku watched the emptiness of space through the lens of his camera drone. The Storm of Intent, a Tempest class battleship, hung motionless within the protective shield of the Control Tower just off a moon in the O-9 solar system of the Paragon Soul region of the galaxy. His ship was fully manned for station bashing operations, but a Goon fleet had been sighted in a nearby system so Shocku's fleet was regrouping.
Staring at the infinite reaches of mostly empty space around them, he suddenly zoomed in on a region of space near the shield. A Pilgrim class recon was dropping out of warp right at the edge. Shocku heard other pilots cursing over the neocom that the pilgrim managed to warp before they could do any significant damage. He pondered for a moment, then gave an order to the his edgy crew, "Load short range Quake ammo in all artillery guns!". The short range high damage ammo was seldom used as the ship was fit for sniping from range. Shocku carried a thousand rounds of Quake within the hold anyway in case he was engaged on a stargate while traveling.
Again the overview lit up as the Pilgrim descended out of warp a second time just outside the shields of the alliance station. The Fleet Commander called for tacklers and Shocku thought of his Minmatar slave girl and her Rifter. Unfortunately her duties had kept her in station in the TPAR system this night. Shocku cleared his mind and double checked the range settings programmed into his navigation computer. He initiated auto pilot instructions as his the support ships made short work of the Pilgrim. The lumbering Tempest seemed to almost groan as it fired thrusters and began to move to the edge of the shield. Soon the prow and the guns were outside the shimmering shields as thrusters kept the ship just on the edge.
As he had expected would happen, his overview suddenly lit up with a ball of red Goon ships just a few short kilometers from where his own battleship sat exposed outside the edge of the shield. This was what he had come for. The Fleet Commander called out primaries and neural commands flew at the speed of light from the implants in Shocku's skull to the gunnery centers aboard his ship. The guns went hot and the instant the targeting computers locked the enemy battleship, his tempest shuddered as 6 massive 1400mm rounds flew with incredible velocity from his ship to the enemy, shattering the elecrocrystalline barrier of its shields almost instantly. Shocku smiled at his decision only hours earlier to request Vince bring an additional gyrostabilizer. Now it made all the difference.His ship would rely on the station shield bubble rather than hardeners the gyro replaced.
Shocku saw multiple targets locking him as volley after volley of 1400mm artillery rounds pounded gaping holes in the enemy ship's armor. He grimaced in slight irritation as the Fleet Commander repeatedly queried the status of the enemy ship, and replied..
"Enemy armor 50%"...
"Enemy armor depleted, in structure..."
"Enemy armor depleted, in structure..."
Shocku glanced at his own shields, which were holding strong despite at least half a dozen targets locking him on the overview.
"Enemy in deep structure..."
The aperture of his drone camera lens automatically contracted as the shattered enemy antimatter drive went critical and detonated, flashing dark space to white light. The Goon's pod was also quickly eliminated seconds later.
Chuckling, he looked through the local com logs for early comms from his victim taunting the alliance fleet commander. He copied the Goon pilot's own words and transmitted them to the clone facility where they would surely be read when the goon's clone was awakened, "Don't cry, its just your spaceship!"
Sunday, January 18, 2009
Captured in Space
The news spread through the stations like wildfire, screams of joy rang out all about and as they did so did the pandemonium as thousands of slaves heard the news of their release from the oppression of the Amarrians.
Simploria looked to her friends, her jaw dropping as the news registered. "We are freed?" "Yes!! FREE!!!" They screamed and hugged each other tightly and danced and cheered. Then, suddenly, in the midst of their celebrations and reverie of imaginings of what is to come, the thought of the injections occurred to her, a spreading dread overcoming her as she sunk to her knees before her friends. "What to do? The shots!!!"
For years they have been injected as a form of control, with a virus that would be fatal if they were not continuously injected with antidote by their masters.
Though she was still in the very beginning of her training, Simplora and the other new slaves were injected with the virus early on and told what would happen to them if they did not comply or if they were to run away. It was the ultimate form of control and to ingrain the message into the new slave's heads, one unfortunate slave was taken from each of the new groups and subjected to the virus and denied the life-sustaining serum. Behind the glass partition, the new slaves were forced to watch their comrade die an unspeakable death, strapped to the bed screaming out in agony for days. It was unbearable and the new slaves found themselves praying for death to come swifty to their friend and for release... but it never did. It was a lesson they would never forget, one of many to come.
Quickly, they sprung to action and were running to the medical pod, their hearts pounding as they imagined the panic that would ensue when the thousands of slaves converged on the pod for vials of the precious antidote. Surprisingly, they were first to arrive and quickly scooped up as many boxes of vials as they could carry, running to the nearby ships and hurrying back and forth loading the cargo holds.
Soon, the rumble of thousands of slaves was upon them; Simplora and the others knew what would follow in the panic as sure as they knew that this station would no longer be safe. "Hurry!" her friends called out, as they each slammed the cargo holds closed, knowing what they had to do as there was no time and soon the clamoring, panicked hoard would be upon them fighting for the precious vials as well as for the few remaining ships.
Panic gripped Simplora as she only had a rudimentary understanding of how to fly the rifter, having only just started her training. Soon she managed to lift off with the coaching of her friends over the neocom, she trembled as the station disappeared beneath her, the constellations coming into view as she tried to get her bearings, not having taken the orienteering classes yet she soon found herself separated from her friends and hopelessly lost without direction.
The beginning of the journey proved to be a nightmare as she could not tell which stations had freed their slaves and which had not. She desperately did not wish to be enslaved again but needed to resupply and work for the ISK needed for food, fuels and supplies. As the days passed into weeks, Simplora was able to assimilate into the crowds and pick up small-time mission running contracts, learning as she went by constantly listening to those about her, the once foreign lingo becoming slowly more understandable as she progressed in her learning. When her shields failed and the monitor flashed its warning as the heat permeated the outer hull, she was able to afford her first upgrade. She had watched other pilots perform this countless times by now and was able to complete the job herself, she found herself almost dancing as she celebrated this small victory. She was on the road to being independent and was growing bolder in the contracts she accepted as well, earning more and more ISK with each success.
Learning to inject herself had been a challenge, but a must, and soon her thoughts were constantly revolving around the supply of antidote in the cargo hold. She found herself dreaming of the consequences of running out and when she sat in galley with the other mission runners she soaked in every piece of news about contracts involving courier services to medical facilities and tidbits of information about what might be transported without appearing too interested. After one night of hearing such news and the coordinates, she quickly set her autopilot and lifted off with hope in her heart that she might be able to secure additional supplies of the antidote, not considering at the time what the penalties might be for such an act. Nearing low-security space, her heart jumped as she orbited the gate several times. It was not her boldness but her desperation that fueled her now as she approached the gate and entered, quickly settling into course to dock, relief sweeping over her as she found herself remarkably in the right station she accepted the contract without further investigation and set course to the pickup location, driving deeper into the low-security zone, her mind focused on one thing and one thing only: getting the antidote and quickly disappearing into the solar system, if possible.
With the box loaded into cargo, she quickly left the station sure that she could find her way out she quickly became lost in the maze of stargates, warping from one dock to the next as she sought to hide herself as best she could from the other pilots and overseers the neocom startled her as it crackled, a voice on the other end identifying themselves and inquiring as to her course and why she had detoured from her destination, having missed a gate. Silence. She knew they were waiting for an answer, as her tongue became thick and her head reeled. A tracker! Of course! A tracker had been placed inside the cargo! How could she have thought such valuable cargo would be given over without tracking its progress as well as the pilot who held it. She covered her mouth and gasped scrambling for an explanation she silently cursed her stupidity as she explained she had become disoriented, glad that she had only missed one gate. The neocom once again cracked as the voice from the other side gave clear, concise instructions as to how she was to proceed and that she was indeed to proceed immediately. There was no question or query in the voice, but a steady and calm reserve that left her with no doubt that she could and would be destroyed at the push of a button. Quickly she set her course and followed directions to the letter, confirming her progress each step of the way as she found herself now hopeless approaching the dock to the destination station.
"You are first to pick up a marker from the jet can outside the dock," came the instructions over the neocom, "and then proceed immediately to station." Quickly, she approached the jet can as her ship connected briefly with it and picked up the marker through the hatch, her radar lit up with a quickly approaching ship behind her and she yelped as her screen flashed red as she was targeted. She slammed the button to dock and found herself inside the station where she spent a considerable amount of time after releasing her precious cargo, tears streaming down her face as she watched it disappear, even despite the fact that she received a hefty reward for her endeavor, she was hopeless. She tried to scan the surrounding area but was unable to do so within the confines of the station, she soon heard instructions that incoming ships needed her space and she must depart. Trying to steady herself, she readied to once again launch into the low-sector zone and try and sort her way back out to Concord space.
Her ship glided smoothly out of dock as she quickly scanned, breathing a sigh of relief as it seemed clear... on first glance. Approaching the first gate, her heart racing with the thought of her freedom before her once again for as long as her precious vials would last her, she set course but was quickly intercepted by a larger ship. Not knowing what to do, she proceeded on course as a demanding voice cracked the neocom, "You are to stop your ship immediately," came the instruction barking over the neo. She did not reply but acted in panic, engaging her afterburner and activating her shields as she attempted to activate the stargate before he could react. He was three steps in front of her as he enveloped her in the webifier and rendered her ship immobile. Again came the instruction, "You are being enslaved. You are to stop your ship immediately!" "NOOO," she screamed through the neo, setting her ship into warp as she tried in vain to escape, she cried out as she, for the very first time ever, engaged her weapons system on another ship. The first hit to her ship was shattering, as she felt it shake with the power of the strike, she returned fire over and over again, trying desperately to release herself from the hold he had on her. Again and again she failed.
Once again the voice, this time maddeningly calm, through the neocom, "You are instructed to stop your ship immediately. This is your last warning!" "NOO, I completed my mission! I'm done!" She screamed through the neocom as she tried everything she could think of to escape, firing over and over again, his voice angering her in its calmness as if he were merely toying with her! She fought with everything she had until the final blow came, her pod hurled out into space, she never even knew what hit her as she glided helplessly, towed in by his tractor beam, once again the voice in the neocom, calm, cool, maddening! "You are hereby enslaved. You will do what you are told. You will speak when spoken to. Am I clear?" "Yes, Master," came the programmed reply, her body shaking with fear, followed by anger and outrage! How could she have thought she could enter this zone and remain unscathed, she screamed in rage as she was helplessly towed into station.
Silence. She remained in station for what seemed an eternity. She cared not now what happened to the once-precious antidote. It mattered not to her now. Surely her life was over, at least as she knew it. Once again she would return to the mind-numbing hoard, blindly following orders and grinding out missions for her soon-to-be slave masters. The neocom in the station blazed to life, the voice of the woman who had assigned her the contract surprisingly enough, informing her that her new master's paperwork was on the desk and that she was to familiarize herself with it." Her mouth opened for a million questions as the neo once again went dead. Silence. She hurried over to the paperwork, her nimble fingers flipping through the pages as she encountered a photograph. She sucked her breath in as she beheld him, examining his features, as she found her slender finger reaching out and tracing his profile, the neocom startled her once again as she dropped the papers and hurried to gather them together as she, for the first time, heard his voice...
He told her she was his and that he would protect, guide and instruct her as he saw fit and that she was to obey in all ways. There was no question in his voice. As he spoke, she found herself drawn to the voice, her cheek pressed against the neocom as she listened to him wide eyed, wondering about him. The voice gave no indication to her that he would tolerate anything but absolute obedience. It was a self-assured voice and rich with confidence, and as he spoke she found herself coming to the realization that indeed she would serve him, unquestioningly and without reservation. Quietly she spoke the words, sure that he could not hear her, "my Master..." as he continued to tell her of her fate.
She was his.
Monday, December 8, 2008
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.
Monday, November 17, 2008
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.
Monday, November 3, 2008
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.
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.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
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.
Friday, October 10, 2008
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.
Tuesday, October 7, 2008
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.
Friday, October 3, 2008
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!"
"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!"
Thursday, October 2, 2008
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.
Friday, September 26, 2008
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.
"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.
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.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
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!"
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.
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.
Monday, September 22, 2008
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.
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.
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.
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