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A Hateful Vendetta (Chapter one up)

Posted: Fri, 19. Feb 10, 12:40
by TheJakal
A hateful Vendetta DiD rules and notes

Background:


This is my new DiD that I’m using to allow me to explore a more creative and story led approach rather than the log approach of my trading one. This one will be pirate based and as seen by the rules and objectives below, will be a rather more personalised approach to the game. Please note that the trading one will also carry on from time to time and who knows I may be able to integrate them somewhere along the lines. Below are the rules, mods and objectives I’m using.

Rules:

*DiD (Dead is Dead) meaning no reloading if I die in a stupid fight or being to risky HOWEVER if the fault is due to autopilot or exiting a gate into another ship I will CONSDIER the death and whether it should stand..

*NO reloading for any losses I receive. I have to just take them on the chin and move on.

*NO buying ships, everything has to captured, although I can trade with the Teladi to some extent, (see below) they deem the selling of ships to me to be too risky no matter how much they like me. The galaxy is already on the brink of all out war and as such they don’t want to strain relations any further.

*NO weapon or shielding purchase from the races for the same reasons as above. Software such as the fight commands and trade commands however are allowed to be purchased from the Teladi. Such transactions are easier to hide than weapons and shields.

*Selling of ships only to the Teladi seeing as they will take whatever credits they can where they can as long as it doesn’t endanger them.

*NO repairing ships in shipyards for the same reasons as the purchasing of ships and weapons. Ship repairs are to be done like this:

Each ship will have to be repaired by repair laser to represent the pirates patching things up themselves. As such to just repair it would seem cheating slightly so each large ship will require other ships scrapped to repair them using the chart below.

Ship Type: Repair Rate:
M1/M2/TL : M1/M2/TL=75%, M7= 50%, M6= 15%, TM= 5%
M7 : M1/M2/TL= 100%, M7= 75%, M6= 25%, TM= 10%
M6 : M1/2/TL= 100%, M7= 100%, M6= 75%, TM= 40%, M3/4/5= 10%
TM : M1/2/TL= 100%, M7= 100%, M6= 100%, TM= 75% M3/4/5= 15%, TS= 25%

Please note all ships will have these ratings no matter what state their hull is when they are captured. The chart is confusing as it is without that involved.

*Stations will be built from the large ships in the same way as the ships repaired above with these ratings being used.

Factory Type: Ship Rate:
Trading and Equipment Docks : TL= 60%, M1/2/= 40%, M7= 25%
High end factories : TL= 80%, M1/2/= 60%, M7= 40%
Mid end factories : TL= 100%, M1/2/= 100%, M7= 70%
Low end factories : TL= 100%, M1/M2= 100%, M7= 100%

*No auto aiming only aiming assists

*Can only repair ships when they are outside of a station to represent the crews and pirates carrying them out inside so no capturing a ship and patching it up there and then.

*Will add more if I think of them or come across the need for them.



Mods:

*Improved Races by 7ate9tins11 to bring some life into the universe.
*No Ad signs by laux to improve framerate
*Performance upgrade by SSwamp_Trooper for the same reason as above.

Start position will be in Brennan’s Triumph pirate base using the Savage Split start.
Other than that I’m running a fully patched game.



Main Objective:

NOTE: THIS WILL RUIN THE STORY IN THE NEXT POST SOMEWHAT SO PLEASE SKIP TO FIRST REPLY IF YOU DON’T WANT TO RUIN IT.

Initial main objective will be to knock out the Rightful Drakes clan. This is classed as all of the pirates as well as the base and anarchy port in Hatikvah;s Faith. Should this be destroyed before I can get to it I’ll have to think of some way to incorporate a base move into the story. After this is met I have no idea at the moment what the next objective would be.

Please enjoy this story and feel free to comment on it.

Cheers

TheJakal

Posted: Fri, 19. Feb 10, 12:40
by TheJakal
post reserved for fleet listings

Posted: Fri, 19. Feb 10, 12:41
by TheJakal
Prolouge: A little bit of history


Tarn stopped drinking and turned to stare at the Argon approaching him from the left side of the bar. He sighed as he noticed the very small and easily missed if you didn’t look for it tattoo, just above his flight suit collar. Another one, he thought turning back to his drink he downed the rest of the brown liquid in one. Not healthy he thought as the liquid’s potent contents hit him, a drink like this one was meant to be sipped and savoured not downed but chances are things were about to get messy and Tarn didn’t want a drink he’d spent several valuable credits on wasted. That and if this went south it may help with the pain slightly.

‘New round here?’ the stranger questioned taking a seat next to Tarn without even facing him. ‘I don’t think I’ve seen you around before.’

‘Kinda’ Tarn lied. He himself knew all of the regulars here having been on the station for several jazura’s now and knew this man was trying to pull one on him. ‘They don’t get any smarter do they’ he added under his breath a little too loudly.

‘Pardon lad?’ the newcomer replied turning to face him this time. He was a rather vicious looking man with a scar above his lip and a scalped head.

‘Nothing just coughing’ Tarn again lied ‘Damned smokey in here’ he added gesturing with a wave to try and solidify his argument. He knew full well it hadn’t worked.

‘True that’ the stranger agreed ‘Names Aoran let me get you a drink while you introduce yourself’ he added turning to signal for the barkeeper.

‘Don’t waste your credits’ Tarn replied levelling the highly illegal solid slug firearm at the base of the Argons neck. ‘We both know we’ve just exchanged a load of bull and you’re fully aware of whom I am or you wouldn’t be here.’

He hadn’t bothered waiting for the reply but had fired the firearm twice. The first slug entered through the neck and exited through the, would be assassin’s throat hitting the wall opposite, instantly sealing his fate and the second, as the mans grasped for his ruined throat falling off the chair face first into the floor, through the back of his head burying itself in the steel flooring panels beneath.

‘Damn Tarn that’s the second this wozura’ the barkeeper scolded, rounding the end of the bar polishing a glass. ‘You keep this up and I’ll get a dodgy reputation’ he added, laughing at the statement. A dodgy reputation was an assured thing around here anyway seeing as the entire station was in essence considerably dodgy as was the case with all safe havens, rather more commonly known as pirate bases.

This one, located in Brennan’s Triumph was particularly dodgy, not necessarily in the varied and rather colourful characters you’d find inside its walls, but rather in its actual structure. You see as with all safe havens the station was constructed of whatever materials the particular clan or group of pirates had to hand at the time of construction and in this case the age of the station was truly beginning to show through and the ancient Mammoth model TL was slowly falling apart. Still the stations owners were aware of this and as such, the price of Teladianium and other construction materials were at an all time high here.

The particular owners in this case were the Confederation and they ran The Pantheon, Apparently a word of old said by the Goners to mean a place to worship all gods and as such a rather uninspiring name as safe havens and pirate hideouts in general go but there was a good reason for this. You see this station was a kind of hub for the freebooters, hackers, junkies and all the rest of the uncivilised bunch that make up the collective term of pirates and mercenaries to trade or deal with the more lawful citizens. Being so close to both the Boron, Argon and Paranid sectors the station allowed for a rather more open trade market between the Sentiment races and the various lawless factions that populated the uncontrolled sectors hence the name. As such the races militaries and government’s has yet to crack down on this particular safe haven as it was well known that it was a hive of information being sold to the highest bidder. Many a cartel and pirate warlord had been sold for a quick credit to military operatives on this station and for that very reason it was tolerated and indeed had prospered over the years to become the pirate superpower it was today, ruling to some extent over the other safe havens and normal stations in the surrounding sectors with the nearest competition being the Rightful Drakes clan in Hatikvah’s Faith.

‘Nah Ted’ Tarn replied throwing a small bag of credits on the bar ‘I’m royalty you know; with me here this place has class oozing from it. Sorry about the mess, I’ll get Mo to clean it in the morning.’ He added chuckling as he left the bar leaving the barman stood shaking his head and blood slowly pooling around the dead body lying on the floor.

Tarn wasn’t being entirely outlandish with his last comment either he thought to himself as he headed towards his room. Well ok the oozing class bit maybe but not really in the nobility bit, you see, he was the only son of a truly successful pirate couple who had risen to be a pirate superpower with influences nearly matching the Confederation. As with most good things it had all come apart and again as with most things this was due to power and corruption. It had occurred in Hatikvah’s Faith on the very aforementioned safe haven now run by the Rightful Drakes.

Tarn spat as he thought of the name. Rightful Drakes; there was nothing rightful about anything they did including how they came to power. You see his parents had formed and taken the Flaming Drakes clan to power over nearly 20 Jazura’s ago through looting, protecting and generally being more organised and better equipped than the other smaller clans in the area. They were prepared for anything and had beaten back even the races militaries over the jazuras, the only enemy they didn’t expect and weren’t prepared for were themselves. It had happened just over three Jazura ago onboard the Eerie as the safe haven was called. His father’s right hand man and most loyal clan mate known simply as Slasher had turned taking half the clan with him and had seized the station in what could potentially have rivalled a Split cage match in shear bloody violence. His parents had died at the traitor clansmen’s hands fighting along with a small group of loyalists to get Tarn and a few other children to the docking bay. Tarn had only been fourteen then and the few other children younger than him and although he was adapt at flying the fighter’s his parents owned he wasn’t old enough or prepared to face the butchery that occurred that day.

It had been horrific. The screams of the wounded and the smell of blood and burning flesh had haunted his nightmares ever since, even though he had become hardened and accustomed to the pirate lifestyle the last few years he’d been without his parents. He could still remember his father as the door to his small scout class Jaguar had sealed itself shut, using the docking control panel outside the ship, programming it to head straight for my agreed guardian in the case of my parents deaths, before both my father’s right arm and the control panel were hit by stray plasma rounds, reducing them both to slag. His father had screamed out in rage, firing into the attackers with his still good left arm before his mother, distracted by the scream had been stabbed from behind. The wickedly curved blade and trademark weapon of Slasher punctured her stomach before carving upwards and exiting at her sternum, blood spraying all over the docking bay. She had fallen then and his father overcome with rage had drew his own blade and threw himself at Slasher, slicing down hard on the mans shoulder severing most of the shoulder joint and rendering the limb unable to be, even with the universes advanced medical practises, saved.

This had been the last he’d seen of his parents but he’d learned later through a rather grotesque gift of an ear from each of them that they were both killed, protecting both him and their home. Ever since then he’d lived on Pantheon under the watchful eye of his parent’s friend and bar owner Ted Berrick, the same man he’d just left polishing a glass while staring at the dead body lying on the floor. That was three jazuras ago though and since then Tarn hadn’t done much at all. The first jazura had been spent mourning after his parents and coming to terms with it all. Then, during the second jazura the attempts on his life had started. The first few if not for Mo, the other worker here at Ted’s bar, would have succeeded as well. That damn split had a mean streak about him but luckily for Tarn was as loyal to Ted and therefore Tarn as a dog was to his owner. Mo t’khat as was the full name had then started teaching Tarn how to protect and look after himself as Mo wouldn’t always be around and he was glad of this as the attempts had been slowly getting more frequent since then and there was barely a time spent on station between the space fuel runs he ran for Ted that a attempt wasn’t made.

That had been his livelihood since that fateful day. Using his fast scout ship he was able to run the much higher quality fuel than was produced in station from the distilleries up in Herron’s Nebula down to here paying for his keep and making a small amount on the side which he had so far poured back into drinking the damned stuff and gambling in one of the stations many dens. Still life was stable at the moment here on The Pantheon which as Tarn tuned into the local news channel on his data display was more than could be said for the rest of the universe.

You see since the discovery and therefore integration of the Terrans into the commonwealth society’s almost five jazuras ago, the Xenon had stepped up their artificial intelligence adaptation protocols in order to preserve themselves against this new threat. Unfortunately for the rest of the universe this step up has led to them consuming all their own sectors resources too quickly and they have been forced to expand in order to terraform planets, stations and any ships for the materials they require. This means that the sectors bordering Xenon space have now become war zones and due to the already dodgy relations between the races and their refusal to help eachother, that outright war has occurred between the Argon and their Boron allies and the Paranid and their Split allies. The Teladi as always have remained neutral deeming any war they have to fight personally to be unhealthy to profits.

This however have done nothing but wonders for the pirates who had used the instability of the races already occupied militaries to stage even more daring raids on choice targets inside race space. The pirates inside both, The Pantheon and Eerie as well as the smaller clans and stations had but one thorn in their side in all this and that was the relatively quiet for the moment Xenon Sector 101 which bordered the pirate controlled sector of Nopileo’s Memorial.

Still Tarn thought as he terminated the news data display and fell on his bed, things could and always will change.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hope you enjoyed the prologue, I haven't actually started playing the game yet but will soon. Please feel free to comment on my grammar and spelling as well as the actual storyline.

Posted: Wed, 24. Feb 10, 14:05
by TheJakal
Chapter 1:
A Rude Awakening



‘Your guest sir’ the split guard stated, laughing cruelly as he pushed the prisoner roughly down on his knees in the centre of the chamber.

‘Excellent’ Slasher replied not taking his eye’s off of the prisoner struggling to push himself up off the floor ‘now leave us and wait outside’

‘As you wish sir’ the split replied forcefully hitting the struggling prisoner unnecessarily before turning and leaving the chamber.

‘I’ve waited for this moment for so long’ Slasher addressed the prisoner ‘you have no idea how much I’ve missed you and how much it has taken to be reunited with you. Do you have any idea how hard it has been for me as your rightful godfather to have not been there to protect and nurture you these last few jazura’s. After all it’s what your parents would have wanted.’ He finished, coming to his feet and approaching the prisoner while laughing.

He stopped just short of the chained prisoner reaching for his chin and turning his face up to look at his. The prisoner was a wreck with deep gashes in the side of his face and one eye bloodied and puffed up. Either he had put up a good fight or the guards had taken a few liberties with their watch duties in the time that the prisoner had been held here in the Eerie Slasher thought to himself. Actually it would probably have been both, knowing the person in question and the amount of hate the clan onboard this station harboured for him. Slasher would have too have that issue addressed, after all he had asked for the prize to not be too damaged before he had seen him. Still he was able to see out of the one eye so could still witness his fate.

‘Hmm not at all like your father’ he added squeezing the prisoners face until the wounds ran with blood again. ‘He begged for his life, even offered your mother up as a bargaining chip. I see you have more of a backbone than him.’

At this the prisoner’s good eye rose to meet that of his tormentor with a look of pure hatred in it. ‘My mother was more of a man than you’ll ever be, let alone my father’ he spat, his face forming a smile all the more evil looking for the damage done to it. ‘Its safe to say you’ve not missed much up until now. That is unless you like seeing the scum you sent to find me killed. Wasn’t one of them your nephew as well? Young lad wasn’t it? I seem to remember him soiling himself before I put an end to h…’

This was as far as he got before Slasher brought his other hand down and grabbed the prisoner’s neck, the artificial limb easily having enough strength to lift him off the floor.

‘Yes, that was my nephew’ he hissed ‘A poor excuse of a man it would seem. Never had forgiven him for just watching as his father beat my sister to death. Still would give me enough reason to justify this don’t you think?’ he asked rhetorically as he pulled his sidearm out and aiming it at the prisoners head.

‘Make sure you let your parents know the clans doing fine wont you. Goodbye Tarn’ he finished pulling the trigger as the chamber echoed with the dull thud of a round fired.


~~~~~~~~~




He shot straight bolt upright in his chamber sweat running down his face. It had been the fourth time he’d had this recurring dream in the last mazura but never had the shot been fired before. Tarn was worried. Either the dream were getting more vivid which Tarn admitted, would justify the visit to that Boron scientist on station that he’d been putting off or something else was happening. The question was answered rather quickly though as a loud explosion shook the room causing Tarn’s arm he’d propped himself up on to give way and the side table to connect with his head. This definitely wasn’t a dream he thought climbing out of his bed rubbing his head. That hurt way too much.

It wasn’t, he quickly found out after pulling on his overalls and bringing up the live feed of the nearby station area on his data display. The bar was in ruins. Smashed glass was everywhere and small flames licked at the bottles of space fuel behind the counter. Standing amongst the haze of dust and overturned tables were two Argon’s and a Teladi all pointing rifles at a man another Argon held up against the wall.

Tarn recognised Ted immediately and swore loudly before running for the door. That was as far as he got before it opened and a large shape grabbed him pushing him back in. Tarn swung for his assailant catching the rough skin on their jaw. The assailant was a Split then Tarn thought readying another punch before he realised who it was.

‘Mo taught young friend to punch well’ the split stated putting Tarn down and rubbing his jaw ‘pity though Tarn has no thought for own safety’ he continued hitting a few buttons on Tarns data display bringing up another window showing the corridor outside the bar. The one Tarn would have run through to reach Ted. It was currently occupied by several Split and a Paranid all wearing the same black overalls the ones who had Ted did and armed with more rifles.

‘Sorry. I didn’t know who you were and reacted instinctively. You saved my life there’ Tarn replied pointing at the corridor and turning away ashamed of himself. ‘I would have run straight into that lot and would have been cut down just as quick.’

‘Mo not worried about punch’ he stated ‘Don’t beat yourself up to much, Tarn was only trying to help a friend.’

He was right Tarn knew but that still didn’t help the fact that Ted was in trouble. Mo however had an idea. You see every self respecting and wary bar owner onboard pirate stations had his or her tricks up their sleeves known only by the barkeeper, high ranking station clan members and anyone the bar keeper decided to share the secrets with. This one was no exception as Mo showed by entering a set key sequence into the data display causing a panel in Tarn’s room to slide back and reveal a small booth.

Tarn swore as he and Mo entered the room. The heat of the moment was indeed a dangerous time and this showed that headlong rushing into something was not always a good idea. Sometimes a cool and level head was what was needed as, had he stopped for a few sezura’s to think he would have remembered the small surveillance room.

Inside the pair stared at the scene in front of them through the one way mirror that covered the entire right side of the bar. Mo quickly turned on the hidden sound capturing equipment covering the bar.

‘Lisssten you sssnivelling ssson of a sssplit. We know he’sss here, that body confirmsss it’ The Teladi stated angrily pointing at the body of the assassin from last night which had yet to be removed. ‘Now pleassse make this easssier for everyone and tell usss where he isss. We only want a word with him.’

‘I honestly don’t know’ Ted replied as well as he could with the hand around his throat ‘The man who did that left me a bag of credits and just disappeared without a word. As well you probably know it helps not to ask too many questions around here when something like this happens.’

‘I have a feeling your lying, Ted’ the Teladi continued putting an emphasis on the word Ted. ‘Yes we know who you are and all about your friendsss.’

At this Ted visibly sagged. If they knew who he was they already knew too much to consider trying to bluff his way out of the rapidly degenerating situation. He was just going to have to face it. He would never give up any information concerning his friends so the likelihood of getting out of this one alive was slim indeed.

‘Screw you. If you know me that well you’ll know your getting nothing out of me so why don’t you, make this easier for all of us?’ Ted muttered through clenched teeth finishing the confrontation as far as he was concerned.

The Teladi seemed to agree as he turned away signalling with a click of his fingers to terminate the obviously useless barkeeper. The Argon the Teladi had signalled too pulled out a small firearm smiling at his comrades as he levelled it against Ted’s forehead.

He never did get to pull the trigger as the wall beside them blew outwards filling the room with more dust, fire and confusion. The Argon holding Ted up however, in surprise had depressed the trigger on his rifle and punched two holes in Ted’s stomach and one in his chest before dropping him to the floor and turning to face the newcomers. Mo let out a guttural growl at the site of his friend and employer falling to the floor, slamming his fist into the man’s jaw before grabbing his neck and snapping it in one swift motion. Tarn too was in a rage fuelled mode and had brought his gun up shooting the other Argon twice with a highly illegal shotgun blowing the Argon off his feet and in into the bar behind. This however caused the bottles of space fuel which were already dangerously close to the flames to topple and shatter splashing the highly dangerous liquid everywhere.

That was all they needed to set everything the liquid had touched alight. Tarn and Mo both watched in horror as both the bar and the struggling Argon went up in flames, the screams drowning out all other noise. Even Mo, a Split hardened to both violence and cruelty was shaken by the Argons screaming and despite everything mercilessly put the man out of his misery with a well aimed round filling the room with a serene silence.

The silence that had descended with the room devoid of the Argon’s scream was quickly broken as shouting and gunfire filtered in from the corridor outside. It appeared that although Tarn and Mo had momentarily forgotten about the Paranid and several Split that had been waiting outside the room someone hadn’t. That someone, it turned out as the gunfire ceased and the doors to the bar burst open were Confederation Security Personnel who showed a complete lack of compassion towards anyone quickly stunning both Tarn and Mo before they could even react to the new arrivals.

The security split up, two made sure Tarn and Mo were secure, another checked on the body of the barely alive Ted and the others made sure the area was clear of any further potential targets. Once satisfied, one of them activated his comms unit, informing his superiors that the area was indeed secure.

That superior was one Gan ‘Lockup’ Parin, A long time confederation clan member and good friend of Ted. Upon entering the room he immediately called for medical support and ordered Tarn and Mo’s release judging, by the black jumpsuit clad body lying on the floor next to Ted and his previous knowledge of the pair that they weren’t to blame for the destruction caused and certainly not for the dying Ted currently being carried away by several of the clansmen to one of the station clan infirmaries.

It was only then that Tarn realised that with a deep feeling of hatred that the Tealdi who had tortured Ted was nowhere to be seen, probably having escaped in the confusion.

Unfortunately for Ted several tazuras and the best medical care on station still couldn’t stem the bleeding and he later passed away leaving Tarn with another dead close friend and more bitterness towards Slasher and his scum. This time however Tarn had nowhere to go. The only person who would take him in was dead. His way of living and earning his credits had gone. This time however they had pushed him too far. He wasn’t going to take it anymore. It was time to hit back and hard but he was smart enough to know that hitting back by himself and in his current state was suicide. He would need men and more ships than his lowly Jaguar. He would also need a big favour from some high up people.

This was why, just under a wozura later Tarn had managed to get himself a council with the Confederation clan leaders. Unlike most clans the Confederation was headed jointly by Sar K’rah, a old female Split, Fredrich Slant, an Argon with a rather uninspiring name considering his well known prowess in space combat, Inanessar IIX, a Teladi who had been known to sell water to Boron’s before and surprisingly for a pirate clan, Hal Broni a rather plain Boron, who’s contacts and informational brokering skills, it was said, kept the clan from falling prey to the races militaries.

‘Tarn Garin’ The Argon greeted staring intently at the man stood before him ‘Only child of the late clan leaders of the Flaming Drakes. What is it you require of us?’

‘A pirating licence sir’ Tarn replied, slightly on edge with the four sets of eyes boring into him. This licence was the first step in Tarn’s plan for revenge. You see, all pirating activity in a clan’s space was in practice, controlled and regulated by that clan. A licence with them would therefore allow you to pirate in their space without having to worry about clan fighters, or more accurately clan regulators breathing down your neck. This was as long as you didn’t hit any clan fighters or craft marked as protected by the clan, which were usually craft flying under the banner of stations or traders that the clan had protection contracts with but could also include military craft which the clan had allowed safe passage for in exchange to them themselves being left alone.

Other pirates however, were fair gain, after all it was a dog eat dog universe as were the traders braving the uncontrolled sectors. These rules however did not offer you protection. You see even if you were registered under a clan they would not help if you yourself were attacked by other pirates, military ships or vengeful traders. In fact if you’re found to be wanted by the military and do or say anything that will endanger the clan in anyway they would if you were lucky revoke your licence and ban you from their space. If you weren’t lucky, well not many people are around to tell you what happens but you can probably guess.

The one exception was enemy clans. If they attacked you in another clan’s space you were friendly with, more often than not you could request and would receive help from clan fighters. After all what self respecting clan would allow enemy clan fighters to pirate in their space? All this though came at a cost to the pirate and this was in regular tribute to the clan in exchange for you keeping all your ill gotten gains, be it ships or goods.

‘Hmm we had assumed as much’ The Argon responded ‘we understand you seek revenge on the Rightful Drakes for all the pain they have caused you. Is this correct?’

‘Yes sir’

‘Well then you may have your pirating licence but please understand that although they have hurt us by murdering Ted Berrick, who you know has served us for many years both as a very active clan member and more regularly as a establishment owner onboard this very station, we cannot commit ourselves to this attack or help you inside Drake space. This increased Xenon present in that damned sector 101 as well as the degrading race relations means everything is being kept in our space wary at any moment for an attack.’

‘I understand that sir’ Tarn replied. He hadn’t suspected any help from the clan so he was more than prepared for that. He did however have one more request which surprisingly for Tarn, they had picked up on.

‘I do however feel there is something else you wish to ask’ Hal Broni interjected before Tarn could continue, his shrill voice almost musical in tone ‘Am I correct?’

‘Yes sir’ Tarn stammered, taken aback slightly by the perception of the Boron. ‘You see I aim to get myself a few ships to strike at the Drakes but such things will require docking spaces. Seeing as, since they introduced these damn external docking clamps, the capacity of a average station is not at all adequate for this I was wondering if it would be possible to rent one of the many small docking bays this station contains?’

The Boron considered for a moment before signalling for Tarn to be escorted outside while they considered his request. Almost half a stazura later Tarn was brought back into the room to hear the council’s decision.

‘We have come to a decision we believe would be beneficial to both parties’ The Boron continued ‘Normally we would have dismissed your request as we have already granted you a licence today and have not so far got a return on that yet. However your situation is a little different to the normal pirate and taking into account the fact that Ted was unfortunately killed earlier this wozura we have decided to grant you both your requests but on one condition. As you know the Xenon have recently started readapting themselves in response to contact with the Terrans. We onboard this station, have several clan scientists who would dearly like to get their hands on and study one of the Xenon. As such, we require you to capture a Xenon L in relatively good form so we can conduct this research into their improved AI. Should you do this, docking bay six will be yours to use as you please.’

‘Thankyou sir’ Tarn replied. Capturing a Xenon L would take some time but would be worth it. Docking bay six as Tarn well knew had all the facilities he required including several docking berths as well as repair bays and other smaller workshops and would be perfect for what he planned.

‘Also Tarn before you leave this is now yours to be split between you and the split who worked for Ted’. The Boron concluded tossing Tarn an identity chip. This was obviously Ted’s will and Tarn once again felt that feeling of emptiness as he realised he held something in his hands which confirmed the fact that his friend wasn’t there any more. Thanking the council one last time he turned and left the chamber, heading towards the now mostly repaired bar in the hope of finding Mo so they could go through the chip Ted had left them.

Finding Mo wasn’t too hard. It hadn’t been since the attack on the bar. He’d spent the first couple of tazura’s sifting through the wreckage helping the station maintenance droids and several workers firstly sort everything out and then repair the place. Now Ted was dead however, the lease on the bar would change ownership back to the Confederation and as such it was off limits to most people at the moment. That hadn’t stopped Mo though drinking in here most of every tazura having decided there was nothing left for him here anymore and nowhere to go. Tarn was intent on changing this.

‘Mo’ Tarn greeted entering the bar from the secret surveillance room, now that the main entrance had been sealed for the time being. ‘I have a request from you but first we need to view this’ he finished throwing the data chip to Mo who caught it despite the amount of drink he had consumed.

‘Mo not feel like watching video’s. Mo wants to be left alone’ he replied dropping the chip and turning back to his drink.

‘I don’t feel like watching this one either friend’ Tarn stated wearily before sitting down next to Mo and activating the bars data display. ‘But I’m afraid we have too’

Mo grunted before turning to the screen as Tarn hit the playback button and listened to Ted’s voice filling the bar.

‘Well if you’re hearing this then I’m afraid you two, I won’t be around no longer to watch your sorry butt’s’ Ted’s recording started. This got a small smile from Tarn despite the circumstances before the recording continued. ‘Now would old Ted leave you two with nothing at all? No I don’t think so. Behind the counter in the bar on the third flooring panel across you’ll notice that the floor sounds hollow. Well boys it is and inside is a little parting gift for you both. Further instructions can be found inside the panel but you’ll need a code to open the chamber. I know you both will be able to guess this easily though’. A chuckle could be heard at this time as well as a few extra voices in the background shouting Ted’s name. Tarn recognised his voice immediately yelling for the slacking barman to come help him and smiled again as the Ted continued anyway. ‘Well as you can hear one of you is being impatient so it’s time for me to wrap this recording up. Look after yourself you two. Bye’

Tarn and Mo both looked at each other as the recording finished before recovering the tape and making their way around the bar. Sure enough the third panel did sound hollow and after some investigation they found a small lever which opened the panel up. Below this was a small stairwell leading to a heavy set door with a sixteen digit number lock. Neither of them said anything as both knew full well what the code would have to be. Ted had always joked about winning the universal lottery despite never entering it and had always gone on about the sixteen numbers that would win it for him. Tarn and Mo both held their breath as Mo entered the code and the door swung open to reveal a space bigger than the bar above.

‘What the hell?’ Tarn stated taking in the large room. One side had a table, which could easily seat over ten people and the other had several large sofas and tables split by several corridors with no indication as to where theyled. Tarn decided to check the first one out and found himself in a narrow bulkhead style corridor with several doors leading off of it and a small chamber at the end with one last door. He tried this one first and was surprised to not only find it needed a keycode to enter but that the keycode had not yet been set.

Choosing a keycode only took a few sezura’s. Tarn decided the date of the death of his late friend would be fitting seeing as this was his gift to them and stood back as the door swung open. Inside was a circular table as well as a holo board and more computers, one of which started up and crackled as he entered before Ted’s face appeared on screen.

‘Mo get here quick’ Tarn yelled pausing the recording before he was sure that the Split could hear it as well.

‘Well Tarn this is my little surprise. We all knew the day would come when you decided to hit back at Slasher for the betrayal he had caused you and unfortunately for me I realised after a jazura that you would need more encouragement. Now if you’re hear listening to this then chances are I’m with you in which case you can terminate the recording or I dead. If it’s the latter, which is probably more likely, then know this. I knew full well that looking after you was dangerous but don’t blame yourself for what has happened. I don’t. Just do me one favour and make Slahser pay.’

‘This small series of rooms you’ve uncovered is my biggest secret. Call it a few strings pulled and a favour from the clan. You see, what you have here is a fully working and hidden command centre and enough living space for up to twenty personnel. Also you will discoverer that the corridor leading off of the first room opposite the entry from the bar, which by the way Mo you now own, is connected directly to docking bay six which the clan will inform you that you can use although probably with a few strings attached knowing them. Although probably not big enough in the long run this place has everything you need to get started from.’

‘Now however I must leave you for good as if I spend much longer down here one of you is bound to figure something’s up and come ruin the surprise. Goodbye once again Tarn and Mo and I hope you succeed in the revenge. I want to give that Slasher a piece of my mind.’

The silence which had descended over the two as they both sat watching the speech was rudely interrupted by a beeping sound and a metallic female voice announcing they had an incoming communications. Tarn and Mo both glanced at eachother in surprise before Mo pressed the button to receive the message.

‘Ah I sssee you’ve both found Ted’sss little project then’ Announced the face of Inanaseer IIX ‘Not a bad little ssset up if I do sssay ssso myssself. Asss you both know by now, having jussst heard that recording thissss little place is yourssss. Thissss goessss for the bar as well Mo T’khat, we just didn’t want to ruin Ted’ssss sssurprissse by telling you earlier. Docking bay sssix however does ssstill belong to us and for itsss usse we will ssstill be requiring that Xenon L Mr Garin. Until then however, you have your own docking ssspacesss to ussse and one last thing. Your free to hire who you will to pilot any ssshipsss for you but they must be checked out and cleared with Confederation sssecurity firssst which I’m sure you’ll understand. Issss thissss all clear?

‘Yes’ was all Tarn could manage as a reply.

‘Then Tarn Garin I wisssh you happy hunting’ The teladi finished terminating the screen leaving Tarn and Mo to ponder the last wozura worth of suprises.


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Ok so umm yer I still haven't actualyl started playing but thats all the backgorund out of the way so I promise that I will next chapter.

Cheers

TheJakal