Karls been busy:
He's on a mission to get rich and is taking on as many missions as he can grab possibly inadvertently stepping on a few toes as he doesn't mind lowering his price a bit to get the work.
I figure it is likely Wren will start to track him and remind him of the rules.
possibly by eliminating a mark he had the hit for not once but two or three times.
That will definitely get his attention.
I'll leave the details to you.
Way of the Gun - DiD (TC 3.2) [KIA]
Moderators: TheElf, Moderators for English X Forum
-
Sabrina Bergin
- Posts: 2239
- Joined: Sat, 12. Apr 08, 10:53
Hm. Been ages since I've written anything X-related, but I needed a break from my other writing and since Kirlack is looking for pilots I thought I'd give it a shot. I blame Triaxx for not writing a "proper" bio, but if you need any additional info about Talia, just let me know.
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"... while the importance of investment in Antigone Memorial is …"
Talia Corvo shifted a bit to keep her legs from going numb. Her mark, the CEO of the Bethshal Trading Corporation, had been droning on for almost a quarter of a stazura, but now he was apparently running out of steam. Good.
"… and that concludes this meeting. Any questions?" A couple of journalists raised their hands, and he pointed at one of them.
"Yes, miss …?"
"Karasu. Just one question, Mr. Bro. What is your comment on the rather persistent rumors about you blackmailing the owner of Lightspeed Industries into selling his company to you, where upon you basically slaughtered the entire company and fired its almost fifteen thousand employees?"
For a brief moment Kriss Bro's eyes widened, his eyebrows raised just a hair and his hand twitched. He regained his composure almost immediately, but the cat was already out of the bag.
"I'm sorry, miss … Karasu, I have no idea what you are talking about. Next question, please."
His mouth might have said he didn't know, but his body had just told Talia the truth. She raised her gauss rifle and took aim. Her employer wanted something public and spectacular, and even though that wasn't the way she normally operated he had … persuaded her by coughing up fifteen million credits. Ten for the kill and another five up front for the trouble.
Talia figured she needed it, because the hit had been a bitch to set up. For starters, the greedy bastard running maintenance on this level, some greasy guy named Jo Kerigan, had demanded two million to look the other way. Then there was the fun of crawling through almost a hundred meters of seriously cramped space to get in position. She considered dusting the bastard who ordered the hit, just because it had been such a pain in the ass.
The gauss rifle had also cost a friggin' fortune, especially since she needed it to go away quietly after the job was done. Not to mention the trouble of getting someone to make a custom bullet, matching the materials in the bulkhead behind the mark and thus making tracing as difficult as possible. Oh well. Another shot, another payday.
"Now, if there are no further questions I'm afraid you will have to excuse me. I have some important business to -"
His words got cut short as a magnetically accelerated four millimeter supersonic bullet plowed through his head and made it explode. The rest of the body, seemingly oblivious as to what had just happened, took a couple of extra steps before it fell to the floor like a sack of delaxian wheat. Everyone stared, then someone started screaming and full panic broke out.
Guess that's my signal to leave, Talia thought. She crawled back out into the maintenance tunnel she came from, then she pulled out a vial filled with a neon blue liquid and poured it on the rifle. As the liquid dissolved into harmless dust, she turned around and headed for the hangar bay. Hopefully security wouldn't start searching the maintenance shafts just yet. That assumption was at least partially correct …
"Aw, frak." After following the maze of maintenance shafts and tunnels down to the hangar bay, three goons were now blocking the way.
"Ey, nobody said nuth'n 'bout no broad." one of them scoffed.
"Screw that," the second one said. "For ten grand I'll knock off me mom."
"Let's get 'er and go have a drink," the third one said.
"Whoa, gentlemen." Talia said, raising her hands in front of her. "Let's not do anything rash here."
"Too late for that, hon. Maybe you should have made sure – oof!" The one talking got an elbow in the ribs to shut him up, but she still pieced it together in an instant.
"Jo!" she hissed. "Gunne damned, greasy bastard …"
"Not that it matters, but yeah. 'e told us someone might come through 'ere, and 'e paid us good money to make sure they didn't leave." They moved in, ready to beat the snot out of her. Talia considered her options. Using her phase pistols was out of the question, as station security would be there in a heartbeat. This could get messy …
The first goon raised his hand, ready to punch Talia into next week. He took a swing, but she ducked under his arm and gave him an elbow to the face, before following up with a strike to the groin and an elbow to the spine as he went down. He hit the floor like a ton of bricks, knocked out cold.
The second one was a little more careful, and tried to use his longer reach to his advantage. A hollow 'ching' echoed through the narrow hallway and he doubled over in pain, taking a knee to the face as he did. The last one just stared at her.
"T-that's a …"
"... an ariaan daari'je," Talia finished. "Yes, it's a Paranid lance. Your friend should thank Gunne that I didn't use the sharp end of it." There was another 'ching' as the lance contracted, shrinking down to a quarter of its original size. She twirled it around a couple of times and then pressed the tip of the blade against his throat.
"By the way," she said softly, reaching out with her free hand and cupping the cheek of the now trembling man in front of her. "Did you know I used to be a pit fighter? I fought Split, and I ate guys like you for breakfast." There was a slight, trickling sound as the man pissed his pants.
"Now, be a good boy and tell that worthless piece of Argnu shit Jo he should be looking over his shoulder quite frequently from now on. I'll be coming to collect, and I don't take kindly to being doublecrossed. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell him. If not, I'll be back." She patted him on the cheek and headed to her ship. He would do as she said if he valued his life. If not … well, she could always do him for free.
Back in her ship, Talia removed the extra padding under her clothes and shoe lifts, and deactivated the nanites that had altered her face and hair color. Being a Ringo Moon native she had, like many of her people, chalk white hair and unusually pale skin, and they stuck out like a sore thumb, something that was kind of a disadvantage in her line of work. She had been told it was a genetic trait that had developed because of the distance to the local sun, and she had no problem believing that. Right now, however, it was time to think about getting the hell out.
"Steve!" she shouted, addressing the ship's AI as she entered the cockpit. "Anything new?"
"Two messages, captain. A ten million transfer for completing your assignment, and an encrypted message from one Wren Rock."
"Wren, eh? Haven't heard that name since we were on the merc circuit together in Family Rhy." They had done over a dozen jobs together before they went their separate ways. "All right, Steve. What does she want?"
"Apparently she is looking for pilots, captain. The message ask you to meet her 'at the usual place' in Aladna Hill."
"Hm, interesting. Well, I haven't done any serious flying for a while, so let's head over to Aladna Hill and hear what she has to offer."
----------
"... while the importance of investment in Antigone Memorial is …"
Talia Corvo shifted a bit to keep her legs from going numb. Her mark, the CEO of the Bethshal Trading Corporation, had been droning on for almost a quarter of a stazura, but now he was apparently running out of steam. Good.
"… and that concludes this meeting. Any questions?" A couple of journalists raised their hands, and he pointed at one of them.
"Yes, miss …?"
"Karasu. Just one question, Mr. Bro. What is your comment on the rather persistent rumors about you blackmailing the owner of Lightspeed Industries into selling his company to you, where upon you basically slaughtered the entire company and fired its almost fifteen thousand employees?"
For a brief moment Kriss Bro's eyes widened, his eyebrows raised just a hair and his hand twitched. He regained his composure almost immediately, but the cat was already out of the bag.
"I'm sorry, miss … Karasu, I have no idea what you are talking about. Next question, please."
His mouth might have said he didn't know, but his body had just told Talia the truth. She raised her gauss rifle and took aim. Her employer wanted something public and spectacular, and even though that wasn't the way she normally operated he had … persuaded her by coughing up fifteen million credits. Ten for the kill and another five up front for the trouble.
Talia figured she needed it, because the hit had been a bitch to set up. For starters, the greedy bastard running maintenance on this level, some greasy guy named Jo Kerigan, had demanded two million to look the other way. Then there was the fun of crawling through almost a hundred meters of seriously cramped space to get in position. She considered dusting the bastard who ordered the hit, just because it had been such a pain in the ass.
The gauss rifle had also cost a friggin' fortune, especially since she needed it to go away quietly after the job was done. Not to mention the trouble of getting someone to make a custom bullet, matching the materials in the bulkhead behind the mark and thus making tracing as difficult as possible. Oh well. Another shot, another payday.
"Now, if there are no further questions I'm afraid you will have to excuse me. I have some important business to -"
His words got cut short as a magnetically accelerated four millimeter supersonic bullet plowed through his head and made it explode. The rest of the body, seemingly oblivious as to what had just happened, took a couple of extra steps before it fell to the floor like a sack of delaxian wheat. Everyone stared, then someone started screaming and full panic broke out.
Guess that's my signal to leave, Talia thought. She crawled back out into the maintenance tunnel she came from, then she pulled out a vial filled with a neon blue liquid and poured it on the rifle. As the liquid dissolved into harmless dust, she turned around and headed for the hangar bay. Hopefully security wouldn't start searching the maintenance shafts just yet. That assumption was at least partially correct …
"Aw, frak." After following the maze of maintenance shafts and tunnels down to the hangar bay, three goons were now blocking the way.
"Ey, nobody said nuth'n 'bout no broad." one of them scoffed.
"Screw that," the second one said. "For ten grand I'll knock off me mom."
"Let's get 'er and go have a drink," the third one said.
"Whoa, gentlemen." Talia said, raising her hands in front of her. "Let's not do anything rash here."
"Too late for that, hon. Maybe you should have made sure – oof!" The one talking got an elbow in the ribs to shut him up, but she still pieced it together in an instant.
"Jo!" she hissed. "Gunne damned, greasy bastard …"
"Not that it matters, but yeah. 'e told us someone might come through 'ere, and 'e paid us good money to make sure they didn't leave." They moved in, ready to beat the snot out of her. Talia considered her options. Using her phase pistols was out of the question, as station security would be there in a heartbeat. This could get messy …
The first goon raised his hand, ready to punch Talia into next week. He took a swing, but she ducked under his arm and gave him an elbow to the face, before following up with a strike to the groin and an elbow to the spine as he went down. He hit the floor like a ton of bricks, knocked out cold.
The second one was a little more careful, and tried to use his longer reach to his advantage. A hollow 'ching' echoed through the narrow hallway and he doubled over in pain, taking a knee to the face as he did. The last one just stared at her.
"T-that's a …"
"... an ariaan daari'je," Talia finished. "Yes, it's a Paranid lance. Your friend should thank Gunne that I didn't use the sharp end of it." There was another 'ching' as the lance contracted, shrinking down to a quarter of its original size. She twirled it around a couple of times and then pressed the tip of the blade against his throat.
"By the way," she said softly, reaching out with her free hand and cupping the cheek of the now trembling man in front of her. "Did you know I used to be a pit fighter? I fought Split, and I ate guys like you for breakfast." There was a slight, trickling sound as the man pissed his pants.
"Now, be a good boy and tell that worthless piece of Argnu shit Jo he should be looking over his shoulder quite frequently from now on. I'll be coming to collect, and I don't take kindly to being doublecrossed. If you know what's good for you, you'll tell him. If not, I'll be back." She patted him on the cheek and headed to her ship. He would do as she said if he valued his life. If not … well, she could always do him for free.
Back in her ship, Talia removed the extra padding under her clothes and shoe lifts, and deactivated the nanites that had altered her face and hair color. Being a Ringo Moon native she had, like many of her people, chalk white hair and unusually pale skin, and they stuck out like a sore thumb, something that was kind of a disadvantage in her line of work. She had been told it was a genetic trait that had developed because of the distance to the local sun, and she had no problem believing that. Right now, however, it was time to think about getting the hell out.
"Steve!" she shouted, addressing the ship's AI as she entered the cockpit. "Anything new?"
"Two messages, captain. A ten million transfer for completing your assignment, and an encrypted message from one Wren Rock."
"Wren, eh? Haven't heard that name since we were on the merc circuit together in Family Rhy." They had done over a dozen jobs together before they went their separate ways. "All right, Steve. What does she want?"
"Apparently she is looking for pilots, captain. The message ask you to meet her 'at the usual place' in Aladna Hill."
"Hm, interesting. Well, I haven't done any serious flying for a while, so let's head over to Aladna Hill and hear what she has to offer."
Last edited by Zaitsev on Sat, 11. May 13, 17:52, edited 2 times in total.
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am 
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
I like it, that's definitely got some potential!shaun bergin wrote:I figure it is likely Wren will start to track him and remind him of the rules.
possibly by eliminating a mark he had the hit for not once but two or three times.
That will definitely get his attention.
I'll leave the details to you.
I was thinking about starting the Terran plot somewhere down the line anyway, although as you've probably noticed I'm trying to get my Boron rep up so I can start the Hub (no, I'm not expecting to finish the plot, but it would be nice to have somewhere to call home 
). Plus, if I get far enough in the Terran story I could give Karl the Cutlass... 
Zaitsev wrote:Talia Corvo...
Love itZaitsev wrote:"Wren, eh? Haven't heard that name since we were on the merc circuit together in Family Rhy." They had done over a dozen jobs together before they went their separate ways. "All right, Steve. What does she want?"
That's already started ideas spinning in my brain. Right. As of right now (end of chapter 11) I have the two Perseus Raiders, the un-named Mamba and Assassin's Creed available. Who wants to fly what, and what do you guys want to name your ships? I won't be changing Creed's name, but I'll happily pass it on to anyone who wants to fly it, now I've got Boots
Madder than a bastard on Fathers Day
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
What do you mean you 'blame' me? I gave you an out. I should be getting thanked.
No Respect.
No Respect.
A Pirate's Revenge Completed Now in PDF by _Zap_
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
... but fortunately you've got a sense of humor 
Okey, okey. Thank you, Triaxx2 *bows*
And yeah, ships ... I'll take one of the Perseus Raiders. Talia prefer something with a rear turret, to keep missiles off her back. As for a name ... I think I'll go with Keres. They were female spirits of violent or cruel death in greek mythology, and I think Talia will cause plenty of that if you let her loose on the battlefield.
Okey, okey. Thank you, Triaxx2
*bows*And yeah, ships ... I'll take one of the Perseus Raiders. Talia prefer something with a rear turret, to keep missiles off her back. As for a name ... I think I'll go with Keres. They were female spirits of violent or cruel death in greek mythology, and I think Talia will cause plenty of that if you let her loose on the battlefield.
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
A little recognition is awesome.
I just hope she lives up to it, instead of earning Harpy.
I just hope she lives up to it, instead of earning Harpy.
A Pirate's Revenge Completed Now in PDF by _Zap_
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
Awesome mate, thank you!Zaitsev wrote:And yeah, ships ... I'll take one of the Perseus Raiders. Talia prefer something with a rear turret, to keep missiles off her back. As for a name ... I think I'll go with Keres. They were female spirits of violent or cruel death in greek mythology, and I think Talia will cause plenty of that if you let her loose on the battlefield.
All my fighters will be rolling with MDM(C) though, if that makes any difference to Talia?@shaun & Nathancros: Have either of you got a specific physical description in mind for Karl or George?
Madder than a bastard on Fathers Day
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
-
Sabrina Bergin
- Posts: 2239
- Joined: Sat, 12. Apr 08, 10:53
Kirlack:
Karl is about 5 foot 6 in height and over muscled as a lot of short people are who try to gain mass to compensate for their stature.
The perseus will do him just fine.
I think he's going to be very careful around Talia and Wren. Talia he has heard of through his connections and he knows she's a stone cold killer.
Nice intro by the way Zaitsev.
Karl is about 5 foot 6 in height and over muscled as a lot of short people are who try to gain mass to compensate for their stature.
The perseus will do him just fine.
I think he's going to be very careful around Talia and Wren. Talia he has heard of through his connections and he knows she's a stone cold killer.
Nice intro by the way Zaitsev.
When traveling pause occasionally, look back and enjoy the moment again.
-
Nathancros
- Posts: 674
- Joined: Tue, 30. Nov 10, 04:46
Hmm, has the sexy piratical type look *think jack sparrow only cleaner!*
but he doesnt cultivate it, it just.. well. happens.
Reggie height, has trouble standing still. semi muscluar build but you'll never see it
but he doesnt cultivate it, it just.. well. happens.
Reggie height, has trouble standing still. semi muscluar build but you'll never see it
Nullam et arcu vitae magna instabilitate omnia solvit
Am a recovering Addict of the CREATIVE FORUM.
Long live X3
Am a recovering Addict of the CREATIVE FORUM.
Long live X3
I asked and just got a long list of the advantages the Perseus Raider apparently have over the Mamba, so I don't think it will make that much of a difference. That, and she told me two layers of protection is better than one.Kirlack wrote:Awesome mate, thank you!
Thanksshaun bergin wrote:Nice intro by the way Zaitsev.
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
Sweet mate, thanks youshaun bergin wrote:Karl is about 5 foot 6 in height and over muscled as a lot of short people are who try to gain mass to compensate for their stature.
The perseus will do him just fine.
And that just leaves the Mamba for George A clean Jack Sparrow eh? I can work with thatNathancros wrote:Hmm, has the sexy piratical type look *think jack sparrow only cleaner!*
but he doesnt cultivate it, it just.. well. happens.
Reggie height, has trouble standing still. semi muscluar build but you'll never see it
I'll apologize up front, this chapter's a little bit short and rather light on action, but you'll see why
I've also had to switch from imageshack to photobucket, as for some odd reason I can't upload to imageshack anymore. Let me know if there are any issues with the image links and I'll try to find an alternative In the meantime, I hope you enjoy...
Chapter 11: Killin' time
Wren kicked off her boots and cracked open another beer as she walked across the small cabin that was currently doubling as her office. She picked up her data pad from the shelf and sighed wearily as she slumped onto her bed. Taking a long pull on the bottle she settled into a comfortable position before finally logging into her messaging account.
The bottle was halfway to her mouth for another pull, when she suddenly stopped, and simply sat in stunned silence, staring in mixed horror and amusement at the message displayed on her screen. She hadn't even thought about him when she put out the call for help, but the one reply she'd received so far was from the last person she was expecting, or hoping, to hear from.
“George Oaken.” she eventually hissed through gritted teeth, then smiled as she remembered her first encounter with the former Argon navy pilot. They'd met in a bar in Red Light some years before, and when the self styled 'god's gift to women' had started trying to flirt with her, she'd promptly put him in his place. Violently. She grinned wildly at the memory. It wouldn't be the first time she'd had a bit of work to throw his way, but it'd been over three years since they'd last seen each other. “Alright mate, let's see if you can still hold your own.” she said to herself before taking another long pull on the bottle.
She logged off and stood to put her boots back on. She had planned to go to bed, but decided she ought to spend an hour or so with her mercs. She didn't want Oaken to be the last thing she thought about before she fell asleep.
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Right. Big day today. I've got a brand new, tricked out to the nuts, sexy as hell and tough as nails fighter to check out, and maybe, if enough o' my mercs get through their trainin', a few ships to steal. Failin' that...well, I s'pose I can lay out a few o' my advanced sats and keep an eye on likely targets, maybe. I've also got a brace o' freighters hangin' out in Desecrated Skies that I'd like to retrieve.
Old Boots is carryin' a mixed PBE 'n' EBC loadout, which ought to give me some very efficient killin' power, even against bigger targets. I've also got 2 o' my PBGs aboard in case I get swarmed by drones, or I have to deal with a Khaak cluster up close 'n' personal like. With 50 cells fer jumpin' and my usual load o' missiles she's still got space fer a few choice bits o' swag,
So I start out o' the tradin' station and immediately spot another Medusa on my scanner. He's almost at the south gate though, but wantin' to take a pop I followed him. His ship was almost as fast as mine, so by the time I caught up to him we'd crossed into Montalaar. He didn't jump ship, but he was kind enough to leave me a present. That'll come in very useful somewhere!
With no more immediate marks in the area I jump to Hatikvah's and start patrollin' fer a target. It's not long before I find a guy with a whole bunch o' Tempests in his bay. A li'l PBE diplomacy soon gets him to cough up and despite his being reasonably shielded, Boots didn't even break a sweat. I'm likin' this ship.
I call Tools in to collect that lot and carry on prowlin'. About halfway across the system I spy a Strong Arms freighter with a handful o' nice missiles aboard. I do get him to part with almost all of it, but in the process I've managed to tick the Split off right proper.
Meh. It was abound to happen eventually anyway. They just keep showin' up with cargo bays full o' gear that I want, and I just can't help myself anymore, ya know? Plus I can hit 'em up in Boron turf, and that'll make the locals happy. With that in mind when I spotted this feller with three Ions in his hold, I didn't think twice about attackin' him. Got all o' the guns too!
While I'm busy prowlin' I decide to do somethin' with the two scouts that are parked over in Atreus Clouds. The Discoverer Raider will make a decent runabout, and a sound replacement fer Mostly Harmless, but the Harrier Vanguard, fer all it's speed, is largely useless to me as it's only rigger fer S class cargo. So I sell the Harrier at the Cloudbase South East shipyard, and send the Discoverer fer some tunin's 'n' software. With a little luck it's quick enough to make the flight back to Aladna in one piece.
I slide through the west gate and into Nopileos' Memorial. As I'm crossin' the sector lookin' fer marks I spot a couple o' Yaki fighters amusin' 'emselves by shootin' up some trader down by the south gate. Bein' as how the Yaki wouldn't even offer me a bed fer the night last night I'm a mite pissed at 'em, and I wouldn't mind one o' them funky lookin' Tenjin fighters fer myself. A quick scan reveals he's packin' PBGs, but I don't plan to get in front o' him long enough fer him to use 'em.
So I launch a couple o' wildfires to take out the escortin' Tonbo, and strafe in behind the M3 with my PBEs blazin'. He's stubborn though, and despite me givin' his shields time to recharge so I can flay 'em off again he refuses to give in, and I wind up atomizin' him. Next time maybe?
As my Discoverer Raider blazes across the sector I move mack into the trade lane and soon find a couple o' Strong Arms tech and weapon dealers who are now more 'n' willin' to give in to my demands and both o' them drop their loads. That finally does it and I think the Split now consider me a genuine threat.
As Tools drops in to start hooverin' up my goodies in Nopileos' I move on into Danna's. Almost immediately I spy a Strong Arms dealer with a pair o' hammerheads in his bay and soon lay claim to 'em. There's nothin' else here worth hittin' though, so I head on into Brennan's. As soon as I'm out o' the gate I see a Paranid dealer with a brace o' PSGs in his bay, and as ever PBE diplomats seal the deal. It's not long before I manage to force another Paranid pilot to cough up some FBLs and a load o' mossies too. So far so very good!
Thoroughly happy with the Medusa's performance I decide to bounce home and get my new scout properly fitted. I'm gonna be relay runnin' jumpdrives down to my stranded freighters fer a while, and 'Ragin' Speedhorn' is the fastest ship in my fleet. With the Mk1 booster she should easily break the 1km/s mark, so stayin' out o' trouble should be easy enough.
I zip on down through Argon turf and across Rolk's Legacy into Gunne's Crusade. The sector's lost some of it's appeal to me since I'm gettin' all friendly with the Boron, but it might still make a good ambush point fer me hittin' a Paranid fleet. Like this Deimos and his mates. A few more o' my mercs have finished their trainin', and almost all o' the rest are at least two stars across the board, so a few quick sessions to get them finished and we'll be in business.
I skip across Redemption, where the most threatenin' thing I see is the local supply Hercules, and cross Perdition's. Safely into Desecrated Skies I start rollin' towards my freighters 'n' call Tools in to bring 'em some jumpfuel. Tools takes her sweet time catchin' up though, so I spent it patchin' the damage. With fuel aboard all three ships I send Tools back to base, give my jumpdrive to the Demeter and send it home as well. As it vanishes I start the long haul back through Perdition's.
There's a lot o' military traffic passin' through so I cut 'em all a very wide berth and hit the turbo booster. Hurtlin' along at 1067m/s was fun! I carry on home without incident, retrieve my jumpdrive from the Demeter and go do the run all over again fer the Caiman. The flight at least gives me the chance to get the Demeter fitted with upgrades and software, and pick up another jumpdrive. She's gonna be my third CLS freighter. The Caiman and Dolphin Tanker are both destined to be 'storage lockers', somewhere I can keep a stock o' jump fuel, ammo and missiles in case I get caught out somewhere along the line. Once I line up some pilots and get 'em some trainin' time they'll keep the lockers stocked fer me.
With all three ships secured I was making the final run home, when I got a call from a passin' Argon pilot in Third Redemption. Priest Refuge eh? Sure, I'll take that. I boost as much as possible fer the rest o' the flight, switch back over to Boots and jump down there. My four marks are makin' their way up from the southern gate, and takin' their time about it, so I breeze on in and slag 'em.
A cool 3.3 million cred richer, I jump back to home and switch back to Speedhorn. It's high time I got some o' my advanced satellites laid down so I can keep a remote eye on the pirate sectors. My scout can only carry 7 at a time, so I start in Hatikvah's and work my way east, coverin' the region as far as Split Fire. I didn't bother with Olmancaketslat's, Bala Gi's Joy or Farnham's Legend as I've rarely seen the kind o' hardware I'm lookin' fer in any o' them.
With a quick reload o' satellites I swing down through Montalaar and litter Gunne's Crusade. Four sats covering the whole distance from the north gate to the south. Cruisin' across Redemption and Perdition's I spot an Agamemnon who takes a bit too much interest in me, but I'm out o' both sectors before they can so much as fart in my direction.
I drop the rest o' my sats in Desecrated Skies and take the alternative route home, up through Loomankstrat's and across the unknown sector seperatin' Montalaar from Teladi turf. With my bay reloaded again I head on back, droppin' sats in Loomanck's, Mi Ton's and Moo-Kye's. I decide to leave Spaceweed Grove and Acquisition clear. Like the sector's around Bala Gi's there's rarely any military activity worth hittin'.
Happy with the extent o' my li'l spy network I make the flight back home. My runnin' back 'n' forth today has been quite tirin' but it's given all but 5 o' my guys time to complete their schoolin'. If I spot anythin' on my network tomorrow I might just make a play fer it.
Fer today though it looks like I've got a meetin' or two.
Assets:
'Old Boots' – Medusa
Fully Tuned
4x 25 Mj shield
4x PBE
4x EBC
2x PAC
'Violent Tendencies' – Skate
'Assassin's Creed' - Mamba
'Tools o' the Trade' – Caiman
'Small Fry' - Octopus
'Mostly Harmless' – Discoverer
'Ragin' Speedhorn' – Discoverer Raider
'The Metatron' – Hermes
'Last Resort' - Manta
'Suckerpunch' - Peregrine
Mamba
Perseus Raider x2
Mako
Demeter x3 - CLS
Demeter Miner
Demeter Hauler – CLS collector (Aladna Hill)
Caiman – CLS Storage Locker (Freedom's Reach)
Dolphin Tanker – CLS Storage Locker (Company Pride)
Demeter Super Freighter – Storage
Demeter Super Freighter XL – Storage
28,107,827 Credits
Madder than a bastard on Fathers Day
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
Mmm ... Meetings. Can't wait to see how this is going to turn out
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
-
Nathancros
- Posts: 674
- Joined: Tue, 30. Nov 10, 04:46
Chapter 12: Dinner with friends
Wren hovered quietly in her space suit, just inside the spinning ring of the trading station. Her position was well away from the docking path and on the wrong side of the station for any passing traffic to notice her, so she considered it the ideal spot to meet potential contacts.
Everyone who knew her well enough to receive an invite knew this was how she liked to meet, suit to suit. Boots was idling a constant four kilometres below her, and she knew she could beam directly to the cockpit if any trouble showed up. Not once in six years of meeting her contacts like this had anyone pulled anything funny, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.
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“You can drop me off right here honey.” George Oaken said to the female pilot. She grimaced slightly at the sound of his voice. Again. As he sealed his suit and stepped into the airlock she heard him again on the comm. “You be sure and call me when you get off work baby. We'll have a great time.” She shuddered at the thought and quickly opened the outer hatch. ”Get the hell off my ship you smarmy bastard.” she thought silently.
Once he was outside he floated for a moment, getting his bearings in the open space of Aladna Hill before engaging his thrusters and moving towards the rim of the trading station. As he passed under he caught sight of the assassin and made his way over to her.
“Hello Wren.” he said cheerfully into his suit's comm unit, completely oblivious to her scowl behind the visor.
“George.” she replied tersely.
“What's up honey? You don't sound pleased to see me?”
“Considerin' that the last time we worked together I had to kill two Split, two high rankin' members o' Family Njy no less, to stop 'em rippin' you a new one fer hittin' on their sister, can you blame me?” she hissed angrily.
“Aww, that was just a bit of a mix up.” He said sheepishly. “A mis-communication, if you like.”
“You just make damn sure you keep your communicatin' to yourself this time around, ya hear me?” He knew she was glaring at him, and he was well aware what arguing with her would bring, so he simply nodded.
“Right. I'm gonna beam ya to my ship, one o' my guys'll meet you on board. And George?” He looked up at her. “Don't give 'em any grief, and fer frak's sake leave the girls alone!”
“Understood.” he replied, before she clicked a switch and watched him vanish in a flash of blue particles.
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Wren waited another twenty minutes before her second contact arrived. As she observed the space suit floating towards her from the back end of the station she couldn't help but marvel at Talia's bravery. Her suit was barely fast enough to get through the station's rotating arms but she made it, albeit with only a few millimetres to spare. As her friend closed the distance to her she opened a comms channel.
“Still cuttin' things close Talia?”
“Naturally.” The other woman nodded. “Isn't that exactly why you called me?”
“That and an overwhelmin' talent fer makin' folks dead like.” Wren replied with a grin.
“Nice.” Talia replied. “Wren, I know this is how you like to meet and greet, but could we maybe take this inside?”
“Sure. Hang onto your lunch.”
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The trio sat at their table in the booth near the back of the station's main bar, and Wren listened as her friends regaled her with stories of their activities since they had last seen one another. George took great pleasure in explaining, in his soft western accent, how he's spent the last fourteen months working as a go-between for a Teladi pirate and a Split arms dealer.
“And that's how they caught me out.” He grinned, stroking his thin moustache and chuckling. “Naked between two Split women whilst the Boron customs boys kicked in the door to my suite.” Wren laughed with him, taking in his strong, square jawline with the braided goatee, the shoulder length black hair and sparkling blue eyes. ”You'd be a good lookin' guy,” she thought silently, ”if you weren't such a smutty frakker.”
“Oh please.” Talia cut in, running a hand through her chalk white hair to flip it back out of her eyes. “As if two Split women would deign to sleep with you.”
“I never said we did any sleeping, love.” he winked.
“Easy mate.” Wren said, suddenly serious. “If you think I gave you a hard time fer flirtin' with me, I doubt you'd like Talia's reaction.” Both women grinned wickedly as George paled slightly. “Which brings us to you, Talia. What you been up to since we were workin' the mercenary circuit.? Still takin' corporate jobs?”
The pale skinned assassin smirked. “Lookin' to pick up some contracts?” she quipped.
“Pfft.” Wren replied nonchalantly. “I've got more work'n I can handle already, that's why I put out the call.”
“Which brings us to what you're offering for our services.” George cut in.
“Well now, look at you workin' the merc angle.” Wren smiled before taking a long pull on her beer.
“Everyone's gotta make a living honey.”
“True enough.” The assassin replied as she set down her bottle. “Alright, here's the deal. I've got two Mambas and two Perseus Raiders. You pick a ship. It's yours. Once we go our separate ways you get to keep it, or sell it. You're responsible fer keepin' it stocked with jumpfuel and ammo, and when I call ya fer help you're there, no questions asked. Any time you fly on my wing fer a job you get ten percent o' the payout, each.” She glanced at both of them as they nodded.
“Right then.” said George. “Let's seal the deal with a whiskey or four?”
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Urk. Frak me but George can't half drink! I'm not sure what time Talia bailed out o' the booze, but I was so frakked by that point I could barely even see the bottle. Suffice to say none of us were up early this mornin'.
With the customary 'mercs greetin'' well 'n' truly taken care of, and the three of us nursin' mammoth hangovers, we started the day with a shitload o' coffee, a solid cooked breakfast, courtesy o' George no less, and took our turns in the shower. Remindin' George o' the terms o' his employment, namely that he keep his eyes off o' my ass, the three of us headed up to the fighter bay to sort out who's flyin' what.
“Percy Raider, or Mamba?” I asked 'em both.
“I'll take one of the Mambas.” George replied, stroking his thin moustache. “She's all tricked out?”
“Everythin' either o' you could possibly need.” I nodded. “Particle cannons and energy throwers up front, and the Percy's are rockin' a particle cannon in the rear fer anti missile duty.”
“I'll take a Perseus then.” Talia said. “I assume we'll be running with mosquitoes?”
“Two layers o' protection are better'n one?” I asked her with a small smile.
“You read my mind.” she replied, deadpan.
“Rule number one,” I started, and she finished it with me, “always cover yourself.”
“Damn right.” she smiled.
“Alright. You two get yourselves comfortable with your rides. I've got some business to attend to over in Ceo's Sprite.”
So, leavin' my friends to acquaint 'emselves with their ships, I hopped into Speedhorn and raced across Hatikvah's, up through Thuruk's and Company Pride before finally dockin' at the shipyard in Ceo's Sprite.
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“You need what?” the fat lizard asked her, blinking at her several times in surprise.
“Pilots.” Wren grinned. “I need six freighter pilots that I can trust to keep their mouths shut, Yohandris. Do ya reckon ya can help me or no?”
“And what eksssactly would thesssse pilotssss be doing for you Wren?”
“I thought you knew better'n to ask stupid questions mate?” she laughed, and the Teladi couldn't help but notice her wolfish grin. He sighed.
“Alright Wren, but not my regularssss. You'll have to meet sssome of my....'freelansssse' pilotsss.” the lizard hissed quietly.
The assassin's eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Where?”
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It's nice to know that Yohandris can supply me with some shifty lookin' geezers to keep my freighters in order. And I mean proper frakkin' shifty lookin'. They're good fer the job though, so I've set three o' them up in my Demeters. They're makin' runs up 'n' down the Company Pride to Greater Profit stretch, gettin' in some desperately needed flight time. Once the CLS software deems 'em smart enough to use jumpdrives they're gonna be runnin' back 'n' forth to my other three guys. They're holed up with my storage lockers, keepin' an eye on things and makin' sure the freighters stay in their dockin' clamps. It's not a glorious job fer a pirate, but fer three old 'retired' pirates it's nigh on perfect.
So, with my freighters all set up, I make my way back from the Hatikvah's pirate base and dock up at the Aladna tradin' station. Whilst I've been away George and Talia have been busy tweakin' their combat computers and loadin' their ships with mosquitoes 'n' jump fuel.
Talia's Percy Raider, 'Keres', is pretty short on cargo space, so George is carryin' spare jump fuel fer it aboard his Mamba, 'Ladie's Man'. Meh, it's his ship, ya know? With that we're all set to go and I switch back to Boots. As we're exiting the station I get a panicked call from one o' the local factories. That's good timin', looks like my crew are gonna get some exercise.
Bein' none too concerned about the M5s I bracket the Viper first, and send George and Talia in to give my regards. They make short work o' him and the three of us come about to chase down the two M4s. The scouts have already impacted the station at high speed, and after dealin' with the last two we take our 82k. With no other missions immediately available we jet off into Hatikvah's fer a spot o' piracy.
It's not long before we come across a Paranid with a whole bunch o' wasp missiles in his bay, and so I send my wing in to rough him up a bit. They're a bit over eager though, and manage to rinse him before I can get all o' his freight. Thinkin' it might be better if I stick with my own brand o' piracy I send the pair o' them back to Aladna Hill and carry on prowlin'.
Over by the east gate I'm tempted by an Argon tech runner with a load o' spare 25 Mj shields and a load o' gauss cannon ammo. So tempted in fact that in the end I just couldn't help myself. Considerin' that I can't buy those shields from the Split anymore, and the only place I've found so far that might have sold me the ammo was Strong Arms HQ, attackin' the Argon wasn't a concern. After all, they've had my back since Ferret screwed me over, right?
Only now I'm seein' all kinds o' sexy lookin' Argon marks litterin' the sector. Like this guy in his Eclipse. He's painfully under-armed and...well, he was just beggin' to be hit really. He didn't bail, but the two encounters did get me thinkin'.
Do I really need to be in the Argon's good graces? I mean, I can get my tech from the Boron at the moment, and that's not a relationship I'm lookin' to sour any time soon, especially with my Split rep in the drain.
I mull it over some as I drift on into Nopileos' Memorial, where I take a pop at a Split in a Skate and a Teladi in another Eclipse. Neither o' them bail though and I wind up in Danna's Chance, where I spot a Plutarch weapons dealer with a whole bunch o' thunderbolt missiles in his bay. I got him to cough up the lot, includin' the brace o' PRGs he was carryin', but in the process I've gone from 'Protector o' the Federation' to 'Federation Guardian'.
Oops.
I think it's time I got my assets out o' Argon space before things turn ugly. A quick check o' the local friendly systems focusses my attention on Company Pride. As long as my rep with the Split doesn't get any worse I shouldn't have too much trouble traversin' Thuruk's Beard, and it's still reasonably close to my favoured piratin' patch.
So I start sendin' orders fer my ships to remote jump out o' Aladna. My two storage freighters don't have jumpdrives though, so George and Talia are givin' theirs up and nippin' down to OTAS to pick up replacements. I need to be careful not to tick the Argon off any more before they get there though, or they'll not be able to buy 'em.
With that in mind I slip on into Brennan's and up into Olmancketslat's Treaty. As I was perusin' the boards o' the pirate base though I spotted a courier headed fer the pirate base in Freedom's Reach. What frakkin' pirate base?
Well now, how about that? And they got mercs fer sale! Whilst I'm busy lookin' at what's goin' on with the pirates a passin' energy freighter gets my attention. Bein' as how I have no idea why he'd be headed to the pirate base, I give him a scan and...hello. 693 units o' space fuel?
Yoink.
Whilst Tools collects that lot I hook back up with my two pilots, freshly fitted with new jumpdrives, and the three of us bounce up to Company Pride. While we sit down fer a late lunch and a beer I spend a bit o' time lookin' at my intel network. All but one o' my mercs are out o' boot camp now, and I'm in need o' some targets. Since my fall from grace with the Split dynasty they've destroyed my nav-sat down in Patriarch's Conclusion, but the one over in Rhonkar's Fire is till operational.
A quick check o' the sector's military base shows that one o' it's two Cobras is out on patrol all the way over in Family Ryk. It's a long old flight, but if I can get a decent ambush position on that frigate I might be in a position to make a play fer it. So I switch over to Speedhorn 'n' leave my pilots to finish their lunch while I go off on recon.
I blaze north, up through Seizewell and across Teladi Gain, before crossin' the border into Family Whi, Split turf. I should be safe crossin' the border systems, but core territory is gonna be a bitch. A quick check on my target shows that it's made Zyarth's Dominion and is headed fer the shipyard, so with a little luck I can hit it on the way home.
I skip across the sector and on into Shareholder's Fortune. There's a couple o' Khaak clusters hangin' around the system, but they're way too slow to keep up with Speedhorn, so I slip past 'em 'n' on into Mines o' Fortune, where I find another pirate base. That's quite handy, as I've got a whole bunch o' space weed and space fuel to get shot of. Tools has been busy jumpin' around the bases I know to sell on most of it, but I needed another outlet.
As I'm passin' south into Family Tkr I get reminded o' just how unwelcome I am in Split core turf. My target's apparently concluded it's business in Zyarth's and is on it's way back to base, so I'm hopin' I can catch up with it in Family Ryk.
As I'm passin' through Ghinn's Escape I notice the military base here has another Cobra, and this'n is out on patrol 'n' all, headed fer Zyarth's. It's not until I'm crossin Family Njy and I check on my target again that I get the sinkin' feelin' somethin's up. Yeah. No Cobra. Bollocks.
Still havin' the one from the Ghinn's outpost as a potential target I blaze on and catch up with it in Family Ryk. His escorts should be easy enough to take out with a few well placed missiles, but it's all goin' to depend what the frigate's packin'.
Bollocks. That's an impressive lookin' payload. But then, I've got a Skate that can fit Ion disruptors every-frakkin'-where. Needin' somewhere safe to make the switch I stick the Cobra up on my monitor and head north into Ocean o' Fantasy. Yikes, that's not what I had in mind at all! Right, plan B, make a run fer Hila's Joy, park up at the military outpost and jump Tendencies up to meet me.
Safely aboard the Skate I bounce Tools up with my Ions, spare EBC ammo and a load o' thunderbolts to help me thin out the crowd if my hammerheads don't do the job. My mark's made it to Family Zyarth, so I jump down there, only there's a slight problem. A Q shaped one.
That could be a godsend as it might force the Cobra to throw some o' those missiles it's haulin' at the Xenon, but the Q has a fearsome reputation fer wipin' out any and all comers, and I don't want my mark wiped out before I even get a chance to steal it. Not after comin' all this way, ya know?
So instead I call in Suckerpunch with it's compliment o' heavy missiles, and we give that Q a nuclear enema. Bloody handy timin' too, cos a few more seconds o' PPC fire would o' dropped the Cobra's shields and started bitin' into it's hull.
With the Q down I take a look at the leftovers. Ooh, shiny. And as an added bonus, some o' the Cobra's escorts have gone down 'n' all. That ought to make takin' 'em down a mite easier, so I line up behind the Scorpion and let rip with a hammerhead. That takes care o' most o' the escorts and a couple o' follow up thunderbolts with some wasps as cover leaves me toe to toe with the big man.
It's a long 'n' quite gruellin' battle, me strafin' around the Cobra drainin' his shields as he launches the odd missile at me. As he makes the switch from flails to hammers though, my Ions start blowing up his warheads right next to his hull, damagin' him but leavin' me clear. He's obviously not figured out how much danger he's in, but I can't stop firin' in case he launches a sudden flail, and a few rounds o' that was all it took fer him to blow himself up.
Er, that was definitely not the plan!
He did at least leave me some goodies, so I left Tools to clear up and jumped back to Hila's Joy to pick up Speedhorn. I send Tendencies back to Company Pride and head back through Ghinn's, then south, through Family Njy and into Thyn's Abyss. As I'm crossin' the sector lookin' fer the western gate I spy yet another Cobra, and this one's only minimally armed. Thinkin' it'll make a nice target fer tomorrow I stick it up on a monitor and push on into Xenon sector 472. That's a whole helluva lot o' hardware, but it ain't got a chance o' stoppin' me with my turbo booster, so I cut a path around the northern side o' the station and blaze through the south gate into Black Hole Sun before the Xenon can even register my presence. I think it's time I popped into Nathan's Voyage to hook up with Ripper, see if he can give me any info on ships worth hittin', so I turn south.
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The assassin cut her engines and stared at the empty space in horror. Almost her entire life the base had been her home.
”Ripper.” she thought. The man who'd taken her in when her parents had run off to join the Goners. The man who'd taught her how to fight, how to fly. How to kill.
Her mouth opened to scream...but nothing came out. All she could feel was the cold fury that had nursed her through so many dark nights as a child. For the second time in her life she'd become an orphan.
“Somebody has to know.” she growled. “Somebody has to be responsible.”
She span the small scout ship about and blazed across the sector to the local trading station. Somebody here had to have some answers, and she'd end the day looking for them.
Assets:
'Ragin' Speedhorn' – Discoverer Raider
Fully tuned
3x 1Mj shield
4x IRE
'Keres' – Perseus Raider [Talia Corvo]
'Ladie's Man' – Mamba [George Oaken]
'Old Boots' – Medusa
'Violent Tendencies' – Skate
'Assassin's Creed' - Mamba
'Tools o' the Trade' – Caiman
'Small Fry' - Octopus
'Mostly Harmless' – Discoverer
'The Metatron' – Hermes
'Last Resort' - Manta
'Suckerpunch' - Peregrine
Perseus Raider
Mako
Demeter x3 - CLS
Demeter Miner
Demeter Hauler – CLS collector (Aladna Hill)
Caiman – CLS Storage Locker (Freedom's Reach)
Dolphin Tanker – CLS Storage Locker (Company Pride)
Demeter Super Freighter – Storage
Demeter Super Freighter XL – Storage
25,375,497 Credits
Wren hovered quietly in her space suit, just inside the spinning ring of the trading station. Her position was well away from the docking path and on the wrong side of the station for any passing traffic to notice her, so she considered it the ideal spot to meet potential contacts.
Everyone who knew her well enough to receive an invite knew this was how she liked to meet, suit to suit. Boots was idling a constant four kilometres below her, and she knew she could beam directly to the cockpit if any trouble showed up. Not once in six years of meeting her contacts like this had anyone pulled anything funny, but it didn't hurt to be prepared.
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“You can drop me off right here honey.” George Oaken said to the female pilot. She grimaced slightly at the sound of his voice. Again. As he sealed his suit and stepped into the airlock she heard him again on the comm. “You be sure and call me when you get off work baby. We'll have a great time.” She shuddered at the thought and quickly opened the outer hatch. ”Get the hell off my ship you smarmy bastard.” she thought silently.
Once he was outside he floated for a moment, getting his bearings in the open space of Aladna Hill before engaging his thrusters and moving towards the rim of the trading station. As he passed under he caught sight of the assassin and made his way over to her.
“Hello Wren.” he said cheerfully into his suit's comm unit, completely oblivious to her scowl behind the visor.
“George.” she replied tersely.
“What's up honey? You don't sound pleased to see me?”
“Considerin' that the last time we worked together I had to kill two Split, two high rankin' members o' Family Njy no less, to stop 'em rippin' you a new one fer hittin' on their sister, can you blame me?” she hissed angrily.
“Aww, that was just a bit of a mix up.” He said sheepishly. “A mis-communication, if you like.”
“You just make damn sure you keep your communicatin' to yourself this time around, ya hear me?” He knew she was glaring at him, and he was well aware what arguing with her would bring, so he simply nodded.
“Right. I'm gonna beam ya to my ship, one o' my guys'll meet you on board. And George?” He looked up at her. “Don't give 'em any grief, and fer frak's sake leave the girls alone!”
“Understood.” he replied, before she clicked a switch and watched him vanish in a flash of blue particles.
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Wren waited another twenty minutes before her second contact arrived. As she observed the space suit floating towards her from the back end of the station she couldn't help but marvel at Talia's bravery. Her suit was barely fast enough to get through the station's rotating arms but she made it, albeit with only a few millimetres to spare. As her friend closed the distance to her she opened a comms channel.
“Still cuttin' things close Talia?”
“Naturally.” The other woman nodded. “Isn't that exactly why you called me?”
“That and an overwhelmin' talent fer makin' folks dead like.” Wren replied with a grin.
“Nice.” Talia replied. “Wren, I know this is how you like to meet and greet, but could we maybe take this inside?”
“Sure. Hang onto your lunch.”
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The trio sat at their table in the booth near the back of the station's main bar, and Wren listened as her friends regaled her with stories of their activities since they had last seen one another. George took great pleasure in explaining, in his soft western accent, how he's spent the last fourteen months working as a go-between for a Teladi pirate and a Split arms dealer.
“And that's how they caught me out.” He grinned, stroking his thin moustache and chuckling. “Naked between two Split women whilst the Boron customs boys kicked in the door to my suite.” Wren laughed with him, taking in his strong, square jawline with the braided goatee, the shoulder length black hair and sparkling blue eyes. ”You'd be a good lookin' guy,” she thought silently, ”if you weren't such a smutty frakker.”
“Oh please.” Talia cut in, running a hand through her chalk white hair to flip it back out of her eyes. “As if two Split women would deign to sleep with you.”
“I never said we did any sleeping, love.” he winked.
“Easy mate.” Wren said, suddenly serious. “If you think I gave you a hard time fer flirtin' with me, I doubt you'd like Talia's reaction.” Both women grinned wickedly as George paled slightly. “Which brings us to you, Talia. What you been up to since we were workin' the mercenary circuit.? Still takin' corporate jobs?”
The pale skinned assassin smirked. “Lookin' to pick up some contracts?” she quipped.
“Pfft.” Wren replied nonchalantly. “I've got more work'n I can handle already, that's why I put out the call.”
“Which brings us to what you're offering for our services.” George cut in.
“Well now, look at you workin' the merc angle.” Wren smiled before taking a long pull on her beer.
“Everyone's gotta make a living honey.”
“True enough.” The assassin replied as she set down her bottle. “Alright, here's the deal. I've got two Mambas and two Perseus Raiders. You pick a ship. It's yours. Once we go our separate ways you get to keep it, or sell it. You're responsible fer keepin' it stocked with jumpfuel and ammo, and when I call ya fer help you're there, no questions asked. Any time you fly on my wing fer a job you get ten percent o' the payout, each.” She glanced at both of them as they nodded.
“Right then.” said George. “Let's seal the deal with a whiskey or four?”
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Urk. Frak me but George can't half drink! I'm not sure what time Talia bailed out o' the booze, but I was so frakked by that point I could barely even see the bottle. Suffice to say none of us were up early this mornin'.
With the customary 'mercs greetin'' well 'n' truly taken care of, and the three of us nursin' mammoth hangovers, we started the day with a shitload o' coffee, a solid cooked breakfast, courtesy o' George no less, and took our turns in the shower. Remindin' George o' the terms o' his employment, namely that he keep his eyes off o' my ass, the three of us headed up to the fighter bay to sort out who's flyin' what.
“Percy Raider, or Mamba?” I asked 'em both.
“I'll take one of the Mambas.” George replied, stroking his thin moustache. “She's all tricked out?”
“Everythin' either o' you could possibly need.” I nodded. “Particle cannons and energy throwers up front, and the Percy's are rockin' a particle cannon in the rear fer anti missile duty.”
“I'll take a Perseus then.” Talia said. “I assume we'll be running with mosquitoes?”
“Two layers o' protection are better'n one?” I asked her with a small smile.
“You read my mind.” she replied, deadpan.
“Rule number one,” I started, and she finished it with me, “always cover yourself.”
“Damn right.” she smiled.
“Alright. You two get yourselves comfortable with your rides. I've got some business to attend to over in Ceo's Sprite.”
So, leavin' my friends to acquaint 'emselves with their ships, I hopped into Speedhorn and raced across Hatikvah's, up through Thuruk's and Company Pride before finally dockin' at the shipyard in Ceo's Sprite.
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“You need what?” the fat lizard asked her, blinking at her several times in surprise.
“Pilots.” Wren grinned. “I need six freighter pilots that I can trust to keep their mouths shut, Yohandris. Do ya reckon ya can help me or no?”
“And what eksssactly would thesssse pilotssss be doing for you Wren?”
“I thought you knew better'n to ask stupid questions mate?” she laughed, and the Teladi couldn't help but notice her wolfish grin. He sighed.
“Alright Wren, but not my regularssss. You'll have to meet sssome of my....'freelansssse' pilotsss.” the lizard hissed quietly.
The assassin's eyes narrowed dangerously.
“Where?”
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It's nice to know that Yohandris can supply me with some shifty lookin' geezers to keep my freighters in order. And I mean proper frakkin' shifty lookin'. They're good fer the job though, so I've set three o' them up in my Demeters. They're makin' runs up 'n' down the Company Pride to Greater Profit stretch, gettin' in some desperately needed flight time. Once the CLS software deems 'em smart enough to use jumpdrives they're gonna be runnin' back 'n' forth to my other three guys. They're holed up with my storage lockers, keepin' an eye on things and makin' sure the freighters stay in their dockin' clamps. It's not a glorious job fer a pirate, but fer three old 'retired' pirates it's nigh on perfect.
So, with my freighters all set up, I make my way back from the Hatikvah's pirate base and dock up at the Aladna tradin' station. Whilst I've been away George and Talia have been busy tweakin' their combat computers and loadin' their ships with mosquitoes 'n' jump fuel.
Talia's Percy Raider, 'Keres', is pretty short on cargo space, so George is carryin' spare jump fuel fer it aboard his Mamba, 'Ladie's Man'. Meh, it's his ship, ya know? With that we're all set to go and I switch back to Boots. As we're exiting the station I get a panicked call from one o' the local factories. That's good timin', looks like my crew are gonna get some exercise.
Bein' none too concerned about the M5s I bracket the Viper first, and send George and Talia in to give my regards. They make short work o' him and the three of us come about to chase down the two M4s. The scouts have already impacted the station at high speed, and after dealin' with the last two we take our 82k. With no other missions immediately available we jet off into Hatikvah's fer a spot o' piracy.
It's not long before we come across a Paranid with a whole bunch o' wasp missiles in his bay, and so I send my wing in to rough him up a bit. They're a bit over eager though, and manage to rinse him before I can get all o' his freight. Thinkin' it might be better if I stick with my own brand o' piracy I send the pair o' them back to Aladna Hill and carry on prowlin'.
Over by the east gate I'm tempted by an Argon tech runner with a load o' spare 25 Mj shields and a load o' gauss cannon ammo. So tempted in fact that in the end I just couldn't help myself. Considerin' that I can't buy those shields from the Split anymore, and the only place I've found so far that might have sold me the ammo was Strong Arms HQ, attackin' the Argon wasn't a concern. After all, they've had my back since Ferret screwed me over, right?
Only now I'm seein' all kinds o' sexy lookin' Argon marks litterin' the sector. Like this guy in his Eclipse. He's painfully under-armed and...well, he was just beggin' to be hit really. He didn't bail, but the two encounters did get me thinkin'.
Do I really need to be in the Argon's good graces? I mean, I can get my tech from the Boron at the moment, and that's not a relationship I'm lookin' to sour any time soon, especially with my Split rep in the drain.
I mull it over some as I drift on into Nopileos' Memorial, where I take a pop at a Split in a Skate and a Teladi in another Eclipse. Neither o' them bail though and I wind up in Danna's Chance, where I spot a Plutarch weapons dealer with a whole bunch o' thunderbolt missiles in his bay. I got him to cough up the lot, includin' the brace o' PRGs he was carryin', but in the process I've gone from 'Protector o' the Federation' to 'Federation Guardian'.
Oops.
I think it's time I got my assets out o' Argon space before things turn ugly. A quick check o' the local friendly systems focusses my attention on Company Pride. As long as my rep with the Split doesn't get any worse I shouldn't have too much trouble traversin' Thuruk's Beard, and it's still reasonably close to my favoured piratin' patch.
So I start sendin' orders fer my ships to remote jump out o' Aladna. My two storage freighters don't have jumpdrives though, so George and Talia are givin' theirs up and nippin' down to OTAS to pick up replacements. I need to be careful not to tick the Argon off any more before they get there though, or they'll not be able to buy 'em.
With that in mind I slip on into Brennan's and up into Olmancketslat's Treaty. As I was perusin' the boards o' the pirate base though I spotted a courier headed fer the pirate base in Freedom's Reach. What frakkin' pirate base?
Well now, how about that? And they got mercs fer sale! Whilst I'm busy lookin' at what's goin' on with the pirates a passin' energy freighter gets my attention. Bein' as how I have no idea why he'd be headed to the pirate base, I give him a scan and...hello. 693 units o' space fuel?
Yoink.
Whilst Tools collects that lot I hook back up with my two pilots, freshly fitted with new jumpdrives, and the three of us bounce up to Company Pride. While we sit down fer a late lunch and a beer I spend a bit o' time lookin' at my intel network. All but one o' my mercs are out o' boot camp now, and I'm in need o' some targets. Since my fall from grace with the Split dynasty they've destroyed my nav-sat down in Patriarch's Conclusion, but the one over in Rhonkar's Fire is till operational.
A quick check o' the sector's military base shows that one o' it's two Cobras is out on patrol all the way over in Family Ryk. It's a long old flight, but if I can get a decent ambush position on that frigate I might be in a position to make a play fer it. So I switch over to Speedhorn 'n' leave my pilots to finish their lunch while I go off on recon.
I blaze north, up through Seizewell and across Teladi Gain, before crossin' the border into Family Whi, Split turf. I should be safe crossin' the border systems, but core territory is gonna be a bitch. A quick check on my target shows that it's made Zyarth's Dominion and is headed fer the shipyard, so with a little luck I can hit it on the way home.
I skip across the sector and on into Shareholder's Fortune. There's a couple o' Khaak clusters hangin' around the system, but they're way too slow to keep up with Speedhorn, so I slip past 'em 'n' on into Mines o' Fortune, where I find another pirate base. That's quite handy, as I've got a whole bunch o' space weed and space fuel to get shot of. Tools has been busy jumpin' around the bases I know to sell on most of it, but I needed another outlet.
As I'm passin' south into Family Tkr I get reminded o' just how unwelcome I am in Split core turf. My target's apparently concluded it's business in Zyarth's and is on it's way back to base, so I'm hopin' I can catch up with it in Family Ryk.
As I'm passin' through Ghinn's Escape I notice the military base here has another Cobra, and this'n is out on patrol 'n' all, headed fer Zyarth's. It's not until I'm crossin Family Njy and I check on my target again that I get the sinkin' feelin' somethin's up. Yeah. No Cobra. Bollocks.
Still havin' the one from the Ghinn's outpost as a potential target I blaze on and catch up with it in Family Ryk. His escorts should be easy enough to take out with a few well placed missiles, but it's all goin' to depend what the frigate's packin'.
Bollocks. That's an impressive lookin' payload. But then, I've got a Skate that can fit Ion disruptors every-frakkin'-where. Needin' somewhere safe to make the switch I stick the Cobra up on my monitor and head north into Ocean o' Fantasy. Yikes, that's not what I had in mind at all! Right, plan B, make a run fer Hila's Joy, park up at the military outpost and jump Tendencies up to meet me.
Safely aboard the Skate I bounce Tools up with my Ions, spare EBC ammo and a load o' thunderbolts to help me thin out the crowd if my hammerheads don't do the job. My mark's made it to Family Zyarth, so I jump down there, only there's a slight problem. A Q shaped one.
That could be a godsend as it might force the Cobra to throw some o' those missiles it's haulin' at the Xenon, but the Q has a fearsome reputation fer wipin' out any and all comers, and I don't want my mark wiped out before I even get a chance to steal it. Not after comin' all this way, ya know?
So instead I call in Suckerpunch with it's compliment o' heavy missiles, and we give that Q a nuclear enema. Bloody handy timin' too, cos a few more seconds o' PPC fire would o' dropped the Cobra's shields and started bitin' into it's hull.
With the Q down I take a look at the leftovers. Ooh, shiny. And as an added bonus, some o' the Cobra's escorts have gone down 'n' all. That ought to make takin' 'em down a mite easier, so I line up behind the Scorpion and let rip with a hammerhead. That takes care o' most o' the escorts and a couple o' follow up thunderbolts with some wasps as cover leaves me toe to toe with the big man.
It's a long 'n' quite gruellin' battle, me strafin' around the Cobra drainin' his shields as he launches the odd missile at me. As he makes the switch from flails to hammers though, my Ions start blowing up his warheads right next to his hull, damagin' him but leavin' me clear. He's obviously not figured out how much danger he's in, but I can't stop firin' in case he launches a sudden flail, and a few rounds o' that was all it took fer him to blow himself up.
Er, that was definitely not the plan!
He did at least leave me some goodies, so I left Tools to clear up and jumped back to Hila's Joy to pick up Speedhorn. I send Tendencies back to Company Pride and head back through Ghinn's, then south, through Family Njy and into Thyn's Abyss. As I'm crossin' the sector lookin' fer the western gate I spy yet another Cobra, and this one's only minimally armed. Thinkin' it'll make a nice target fer tomorrow I stick it up on a monitor and push on into Xenon sector 472. That's a whole helluva lot o' hardware, but it ain't got a chance o' stoppin' me with my turbo booster, so I cut a path around the northern side o' the station and blaze through the south gate into Black Hole Sun before the Xenon can even register my presence. I think it's time I popped into Nathan's Voyage to hook up with Ripper, see if he can give me any info on ships worth hittin', so I turn south.
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The assassin cut her engines and stared at the empty space in horror. Almost her entire life the base had been her home.
”Ripper.” she thought. The man who'd taken her in when her parents had run off to join the Goners. The man who'd taught her how to fight, how to fly. How to kill.
Her mouth opened to scream...but nothing came out. All she could feel was the cold fury that had nursed her through so many dark nights as a child. For the second time in her life she'd become an orphan.
“Somebody has to know.” she growled. “Somebody has to be responsible.”
She span the small scout ship about and blazed across the sector to the local trading station. Somebody here had to have some answers, and she'd end the day looking for them.
Assets:
'Ragin' Speedhorn' – Discoverer Raider
Fully tuned
3x 1Mj shield
4x IRE
'Keres' – Perseus Raider [Talia Corvo]
'Ladie's Man' – Mamba [George Oaken]
'Old Boots' – Medusa
'Violent Tendencies' – Skate
'Assassin's Creed' - Mamba
'Tools o' the Trade' – Caiman
'Small Fry' - Octopus
'Mostly Harmless' – Discoverer
'The Metatron' – Hermes
'Last Resort' - Manta
'Suckerpunch' - Peregrine
Perseus Raider
Mako
Demeter x3 - CLS
Demeter Miner
Demeter Hauler – CLS collector (Aladna Hill)
Caiman – CLS Storage Locker (Freedom's Reach)
Dolphin Tanker – CLS Storage Locker (Company Pride)
Demeter Super Freighter – Storage
Demeter Super Freighter XL – Storage
25,375,497 Credits
Madder than a bastard on Fathers Day
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
-
Nathancros
- Posts: 674
- Joined: Tue, 30. Nov 10, 04:46
-
Timsup2nothin
- Posts: 4690
- Joined: Thu, 22. Jan 09, 17:49
Excellent work Kirlack.
Trapper Tim's Guide to CLS 2
On Her Majesty's Secret Service-Dead is Dead, and he is DEAD
Not a DiD, so I guess it's a DiDn't, the story of my first try at AP
Part One, in progress
HEY! AP!! That's new!!!
On Her Majesty's Secret Service-Dead is Dead, and he is DEAD
Not a DiD, so I guess it's a DiDn't, the story of my first try at AP
Part One, in progress
HEY! AP!! That's new!!!
Yay, Talia has joined the gang!
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*ghasp*EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Nice work, Kirlack
*sits back down and eagerly awaits the next chapter*
SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE*ghasp*EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
Nice work, Kirlack
*sits back down and eagerly awaits the next chapter*
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
Chapter 13: History
She was drunk. She was so far past drunk that she couldn't have flown her ship even if she'd wanted to. Her search for information had been brief, and turned up only the fact that four days ago a strike force centred around a Cerberus had erased the base and it's occupants from existence.
The assassin frowned as her hand reached for the bottle, only to find it empty.
“Hey frakbag,” she slurred at the barman, “get me another bottle.”
“Don't you think you've had enough?” the young man replied tentatively. She'd already nearly shot him once tonight.
“Don't you tell me what to do!” she roared, whipping her pistol from it's holster and levelling it at his head. “Get me the damn bottle!” She watched, aware that on a normal day the scurrying barman would be amusing, but tonight she found no mirth. No solace. By the time he made it back, she was sitting again, lost in thought. She didn't say a word as he passed her the bottle, and was already taking a long hard pull on the whiskey before she paid the man.
“Now frak off and leave me to my misery will ya?” she grunted, setting the bottle down on the bar and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Not wanting to risk further angering the clearly annoyed woman, the barman rushed to the far end of the bar and busied himself washing glasses.
Drunk and alone, Wren started thinking.
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She'd been six years old when her parents abandoned her, running off to the great Goner abbey to devote their lives to the teachings of Gunne. She'd lived on scraps that she could steal from some of the shops on the Circle of Labour trading station, sleeping among the garbage and roaming the dark alleyways, were nobody but the bad people would try looking for her. She was smarter than them though, and always managed to stay at least one step ahead. A lot of them had known she was there, somewhere, but in the first six months nobody caught her,
She'd been idling down by the station's docking lifts almost a full year after her parents had left when the pirates had arrived. She'd seen the big Paranid, Tank, kill the man on the good looking humans order. She'd made herself a crude bow, and a single arrow for hunting rats, and when the two pirates had seen her, rather than run she stood her ground, with her tiny bow drawn and pointing at the man's face.
“Well now.” He'd grinned, not a leering grin like some of the bad people had, but warm somehow. Inviting. Enticing. “Aren't you just a brave little soul. What's your name girl?”
“Jen'fer.” She'd replied. “Jen'fer Rock. I'm an o'ren.”
“You're an orphan honey?” he'd asked, and the small girl nodded sadly. “Well, little Jenny, why don't you come with us? We can take care o' you, can't we Tank?”
“Serious not can you be, Ripper.” The Paranid had replied, shaking his head in dismay. “But a child she is.”
“Sure is.” The man called Ripper said, nodding thoughtfully at his companion. “But ain't she amazin' Tank? She didn't even flinch fer frak's sake! She stood her ground, face to face with you! A child, Tank, facing down a full grown Paranid? Just imagine what she could become.”
Tank grunted in disgust. “Fine. But your problem she is, with me she is nothing to do!”
Ripper turned back to the girl, crouched and held out his hand.
“What do you say Jenny? You wanna come with us? Let us be your family?”
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By the time she was ten years old her relationship with the pirate had changed. She no longer called him Ripper, to her he had become 'Uncle Jak'. “But only in private, ya hear me.” he'd used to say. To him, she had become 'little Jenny Wren', his most junior lieutenant. His adopted daughter. Every year she would learn new skills, how to shoot, how to survive in a knife fight. How to cut space fuel so you could make more profit.
They'd started out living in Ripper's Caravel, roaming the universe looking for 'marks' as he always called them. By the time she was thirteen he had a big enough crew that he set up his own clan, hidden amongst the asteroid cloud in Nathan's Voyage. That was when he taught her how to fly. Her first ship had been a run down Discoverer that one of Ripper's boys had stolen in Belt of Aguilar. He'd given it to her for her birthday.
As she got older Ripper had started involving her in more and more heists, until finally, when she was nineteen, he'd sent her out on her own in a Nova Raider. “A quick lock 'n' shred Jenny Wren.” he'd said to her as they walked down to the docking bay. “That's all it takes, then you get yourself home, ya hear me.” She'd kissed him on the cheek and winked as she walked away.
“Yes Uncle Jak. Don't worry, I'm a big girl now, I can handle myself.”
As her ship shot out into the dark the pirate laughed to himself. “You always could, my girl. You always could.”
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When she was twenty three, one of Ripper's boys had drugged and raped her. Not one of the regular boys, one of the new guys he'd hired to cover some of his losses over the years. She shuddered at the memory, then laughed quietly to herself as the memory of her Uncle Jak throwing the scumbag into the airlock popped into her mind. “Ripper!” he'd screamed from behind the glass. “For frak's sake, please!”
“Nobody touches my girl without her say so.” Ripper had grunted nonchalantly, before flipping the lever and decompressing the airlock.
“Thank you Uncle Jak.” she whispered. In the quiet of the bar her voice suddenly sounded loud, so she emptied the bottle and staggered towards her suite. As her head hit the pillow the tears began.
For the first time in almost twenty years, Jennifer Rock cried herself to sleep.
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Meh. Yeah. Mornin'. Not surprisin'ly I woke up in a right shit mood this mornin', so no grief ya hear me? I said ya hear me!? Right. Good. No, I don't wanna talk about it. I got plans today, and they ain't gettin' frakked up because I'm distracted by my emotions.
After crawlin' out o' my bunk this mornin' I spent a good bit o' time with my head in the can, took a hot shower and downed about a quart o' coffee. Food's out o' the question until my gut stops doin' star jumps, and until I've got myself well and truly limbered up I don't much fancy travellin' at almost 500m/s, so I have Tendencies load up with jump fuel and hop up here to meet me.
I've decided to take another crack at stealin' a Cobra from under the noses o' the Split military today. There's at least one more that's based out o' the military base in Ghinn's Escape, so I send messages down to Talia 'n' George to pack up some o' the ships. We're gonna be holed up in Hila's Joy while I conduct operations next door, so the pair o' them jump up, along with Last Resort, Suckerpunch, Boots and Tools. My final merc only has a couple o' hours left on his trainin' course, and then I'll be able to bounce The Metatron up here 'n' all, givin' me a full crew to work with.
Tools has been loaded with jump fuel and all the extra missiles I might need, and after gettin' everyone else in place I finally jump Speedhorn up there. If all goes accordin' to plan I'm gonna need a way to get back to Company Pride, and a spare jumpdrive fer my capture.
Whilst I'm makin' my way up into Black Hole Sun I have Speedhorn lay out a satellite in Ghinn's, It's only a border sector, so the locals won't shoot at it, at least until after I start makin' trouble. That lets me keep close tabs on what the ships homebased to the outpost are up to. One's registerin' it's location as Family Njy, that might be a bit too hot fer an attempted op. The other one's supposedly in Ghinn's, only when I compare the IFF codes to the ship I can see on the satellite feed, I see it's not the same ship...
Interestin'. I think that merits a bit o' further investigation, don't you? So I bounce to Hila's and dock up at the military outpost to sort out my ships.
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Talia walked silently across the docking bay, not because she was trying to be quiet, but because her lifetime of practice had become second nature. As the pale skinned assassin saw her friend though, she almost gasped. Almost.
“Good Gunne, Wren, you look like shit. What happened?”
“Frak off Talia.” The taller woman snapped, whipping her shaved head about with a fierce glare. Her expression softened a heartbeat later. “Sorry honey,” Wren began, all the fire banished from her voice, “it's been a rough twenty four hours, ya know?”
“Looks like it.” Talia replied coldly, clearly unimpressed with her friends drinking habit. “How many bottles of whiskey did it take to convince you of that?”
“None.” Wren shot back at her, turning to carry on loading missiles from the Caiman into her Skate. “It was findin' out my family home's been destroyed that did it. The whiskey just numbed the pain long enough fer me to sleep.”
She turned, facing her friend, one of the few she had left. “Good enough to get you off o' my back?”
“Shit, Wren, I'm sorry. You got any idea who was behind it?” Wren chuckled. “What?”
“Your first thought, on hearin' that my family might o' been killed, instead o' offerin' platitudes or comfort, was revenge.” Talia looked at her strangely, then grinned wide as Wren smiled that wolfish, evil smile. “Mine too.”
“So what do you know already?” Talia asked.
“Only that there was a Cerberus involved. I got no idea on escorts, crew or captain. Not even a homebase. But I'll find 'em Talia.” Her face tightened in a moment of cold rage.
“I have to.”
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By the time I'd finished sortin' everythin' out and talking to Talia the last o' my mercs had finished trainin', meanin' I'm ready to go annoy the Split. Tendencies is all kitted out fer suppressin' and fryin' my targets, and I'm carryin' enough high yield missiles to crack their defences if I have to. Suckerpunch is filled with tomahawks and some spare jump fuel, in case there's anythin' heavy I need to dispose of in a hurry. Like this frakkin' Python that's shown up in the sector.
That could be problematic, but I reckon my bomber is up fer the job. With The Metatron jumped up here from Acquisition Repository, it's time to mosey on into Ghinn's and get some info on that mysterious Cobra. A passive scan as I'm passin' him shows he's carryin' no missiles at all, and as I look down through his information I find no countermeasures either.
Bingo. Now all I need to do is take care o' the escortin' ships and we're good to go! A quick lock on one o' the Mambas and I'm rollin' my first hammerhead into the mix. That ought to deal with the two fighters, the bomber and the Heavy Dragon on the Cobra's port side, and I swiftly bracket one o' the Mamba Vanguards in the other escort group and unleash my final hammerhead.
It's lookin' a li'l hairy fer the first minute, as the missiles have to get past the asteroids without hittin' anythin', but I've chosen my strike well and moments later it's just me and the Cobra.
And the damn Python. And then, to make matters even more complicated, one o' the two Cobras homebased to the outpost here jumps in through the south gate. Oddly, neither it nor the now hostile M2 are makin' any kind o' move in my direction, so I start layin' into my target.
I steadily orbit around him, drainin' his shields with my Ions until my energy gets low, then makin' the switch to my chainguns to get them bottomed out. As my fully recharged disruptors start flayin' his ships systems, two o' his shield generators burn out. That's a bonus as it'll make it easier to keep his shields low enough fer me to burn out his guns.
I spend a good twenty minutes fryin' him, and still none o' the other ships in the sector are payin' us any attention. One o' his rear guns has been burned out, but he's not replacin' it so I can completely disarm him. So I let myself drift round to his firin' arc, and hey presto! A quick dodge o' fire put me back on target, and we carry on like that fer another half an hour.
Finally he's got just the one CIG and the flak array fer me to fry....
And that's when the frakkin' Boron showed up. With their CIG wieldin' Heavy Hydra. And naturally, seein' an unshielded Split ship, they just had to have a pop. Frakkin' squids!
Right. Now not only am I in need o' a new mark, I'm out o' hammerheads fer clearance. Bollocks!
A quick check o' the military outpost reveals one o' their Cobras is still in Family Njy, so I decide to bounce down there and see what kind o' opposition I might be facin'. Oh. That's rather a lot o' hardware. To make matters worse, this Cobra's properly armed. Right.
I jump back to Ghinn's with the intention o' tryin' fer the last Cobra, but this'n is even better armed'n the last.
Grr.
With no other option jumpin' out at me I make the jump back to Hila's Joy. As I was crossin' towards the military outpost I got a call fer a convoy hit over in Shareholder's Fortune. I'm none too impressed with the Boron right at the minute, but it's a payin' job, and it means I get to blow someone up, which makes me happy.
Agreein' to the contract I make a quick stop at the dock to refuel Tendencies and switch over to Boots before jumpin' up to find my marks. Unsurprin'ly they're a bunch o' Split and it's not long before I've blasted 'em all to shrapnel and reaped my 1.8 million cred reward. That makes me feel a li'l better, so I bounce back to Hila's to see what else the Boron might be offerin'.
First thing I see is a patrol mish. That's the kind o' job where it's good to have backup, so I call Keres and Ladie's Man out from the dock. There's a pirate wing movin' across the sector now, but as we're headin' in to tackle 'em they drift into range o' the passin' Thresher and his wing. They account fer most o' the pirates, but we do get to dance with the Centaur.
That completes the mission 'n' I wire George 'n' Talia their seventy five thousand each. The next job on offer is an assassination on a rogue Teladi. Bein' right up my street I instantly agreed and jumped over to Ocean o' Fantasy. The mark goes down in moments to Boots savage PBE/EBC combo, and I bounce back to my pilots before the mark's pals even blink.
As we're moochin' across Hila's lookin fer more work I spot another convoy hit over in Tkr's Deprivation. I tell my wing to sit this one out 'n' head back to the outpost before jumpin' back into Split turf. My two marks are only fifteen klicks away, so I roll a couple o' banshees at 'em fer a quick kill and pick up my 1.5 million cred.
I bounce back to Hila's and refuel. There's no more jobs on offer here, so I push into Ocean, but there's nothin' there either. I'm a bit loathe to head north on account o' the Xenon, but I'm all out o' options.
Halfway across Bluish Snout I spot a Khaak cluster that's already broken up. Oi. That could be trouble. And they're headin' my way...
It's a weird battle. The whole lot o' them move like birds, all flockin' together in the same direction. I scrap the M3 first and then turn my PBEs on the scouts. It takes a li'l while, as most o' them are twice as fast as Boots, but finally I shred the last one, fer the loss o' 49% o' my shields. I'd much rather deal with 'em when they're still a cluster, thank you!
By the time my shields have recharged I've drifted into Menelaus' Paradise. As I'm passin' the local equipment dock I get an offer to hold the sector against Xenon incursion. It's only a single P and a couple o' scouts, but I think that was some kinda test. See, once I'd cleared the Xenon out o' the sector 'n' been paid fer my efforts, I got a call from this squid in his Enhanced Dolphin.
You want what?
Now, search 'n' rescue ain't really my thing, ya know? I'm more a shoot to kill kinda girl. Yeah, that's my excuse. It's got nothin' whatsoever to do with the whole 'flyin' into Xenon core space' bit. Honest.
Not wantin' to fall out with the Boron now they consider me a long lost tentacle, I tell the guy I'll go look, but first I need to go and do some stuff. Ya know, away from here...and the Xenon.
So I cruise on into Getsu Fune. As I'm passin' the Argon equipment dock they ask me to help 'em defend their assets from...(sigh)...Xenon incursion. Thinkin' this will be as simple as the last I agree to the job and motor off towards the north gate.
Ah. That's quite a bit o' trouble. I start snappin' missiles off at the Ls and the M, intent on catchin' the Ns as they pass me. It seems most o' my missiles missed their marks though, as moments after fraggin' the last N, I was under fire from all quarters.
As PBE fire started biting into my hull I made a rushed stab fer the jump controls. Some days ten seconds can feel like a whole frakkin' lifetime, and today was one o' those days. As more and more o' my hull integrity fell away the ship's computer started pipin' up with a list o' extensions and hardware that was damaged or destroyed. I'm just expectin' her to announce that my jumpdrive's toast, when the drive kicks in and I reappear at the eastern gate.
Thoroughly singed, and with my hull down to just 58% I pulled up above the gate. A quick check o' Boots systems reveals the loss o' my patrol software, but it seems everythin' else is in workin' order. I should still have a bit o' time before the Xenon track down here, so I hop out 'n' start patchin' Boots. There's still no sign o' the P and his buddies by the time I'm done, so I head back on across the sector.
This time they're all a bit more spread out, so I take the last o' them down one by one and finally get paid my 700k. That just about does me fer the day though I think. My hangover's been pesterin' me fer the last couple o' hours, so I jump back down to Hila's and dock up at the outpost.
As I'm climbin' out o' Boots' cockpit though, I find myself lookin' at Speedhorn. Ya know, with the Mk1 turbo booster she might actually be fast enough to do this crazy mish fer the Boron?
I think on it fer a while longer, and finally decide to go fer it. Leavin' word with my pilots that I'll be out o' sector fer the night I shoot on over to the Ocean o' Fantasy shipyard, dock up and arrange some quarters fer the night. It's been a weird old day and tomorrow's set to be even weirder.
Assets:
'Ragin' Speedhorn' – Discoverer Raider
Fully tuned
3x 1Mj shield
4x IRE
'Keres' – Perseus Raider [Talia Corvo]
'Ladie's Man' – Mamba [George Oaken]
'Old Boots' – Medusa
'Violent Tendencies' – Skate
'Assassin's Creed' - Mamba
'Tools o' the Trade' – Caiman
'Small Fry' - Octopus
'Mostly Harmless' – Discoverer
'The Metatron' – Hermes
'Last Resort' - Manta
'Suckerpunch' - Peregrine
Perseus Raider
Mako
Demeter x3 - CLS
Demeter Miner
Demeter Hauler – CLS collector (Aladna Hill)
Caiman – CLS Storage Locker (Freedom's Reach)
Dolphin Tanker – CLS Storage Locker (Company Pride)
Demeter Super Freighter – Storage
Demeter Super Freighter XL – Storage
29,315,445 Credits
She was drunk. She was so far past drunk that she couldn't have flown her ship even if she'd wanted to. Her search for information had been brief, and turned up only the fact that four days ago a strike force centred around a Cerberus had erased the base and it's occupants from existence.
The assassin frowned as her hand reached for the bottle, only to find it empty.
“Hey frakbag,” she slurred at the barman, “get me another bottle.”
“Don't you think you've had enough?” the young man replied tentatively. She'd already nearly shot him once tonight.
“Don't you tell me what to do!” she roared, whipping her pistol from it's holster and levelling it at his head. “Get me the damn bottle!” She watched, aware that on a normal day the scurrying barman would be amusing, but tonight she found no mirth. No solace. By the time he made it back, she was sitting again, lost in thought. She didn't say a word as he passed her the bottle, and was already taking a long hard pull on the whiskey before she paid the man.
“Now frak off and leave me to my misery will ya?” she grunted, setting the bottle down on the bar and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. Not wanting to risk further angering the clearly annoyed woman, the barman rushed to the far end of the bar and busied himself washing glasses.
Drunk and alone, Wren started thinking.
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She'd been six years old when her parents abandoned her, running off to the great Goner abbey to devote their lives to the teachings of Gunne. She'd lived on scraps that she could steal from some of the shops on the Circle of Labour trading station, sleeping among the garbage and roaming the dark alleyways, were nobody but the bad people would try looking for her. She was smarter than them though, and always managed to stay at least one step ahead. A lot of them had known she was there, somewhere, but in the first six months nobody caught her,
She'd been idling down by the station's docking lifts almost a full year after her parents had left when the pirates had arrived. She'd seen the big Paranid, Tank, kill the man on the good looking humans order. She'd made herself a crude bow, and a single arrow for hunting rats, and when the two pirates had seen her, rather than run she stood her ground, with her tiny bow drawn and pointing at the man's face.
“Well now.” He'd grinned, not a leering grin like some of the bad people had, but warm somehow. Inviting. Enticing. “Aren't you just a brave little soul. What's your name girl?”
“Jen'fer.” She'd replied. “Jen'fer Rock. I'm an o'ren.”
“You're an orphan honey?” he'd asked, and the small girl nodded sadly. “Well, little Jenny, why don't you come with us? We can take care o' you, can't we Tank?”
“Serious not can you be, Ripper.” The Paranid had replied, shaking his head in dismay. “But a child she is.”
“Sure is.” The man called Ripper said, nodding thoughtfully at his companion. “But ain't she amazin' Tank? She didn't even flinch fer frak's sake! She stood her ground, face to face with you! A child, Tank, facing down a full grown Paranid? Just imagine what she could become.”
Tank grunted in disgust. “Fine. But your problem she is, with me she is nothing to do!”
Ripper turned back to the girl, crouched and held out his hand.
“What do you say Jenny? You wanna come with us? Let us be your family?”
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By the time she was ten years old her relationship with the pirate had changed. She no longer called him Ripper, to her he had become 'Uncle Jak'. “But only in private, ya hear me.” he'd used to say. To him, she had become 'little Jenny Wren', his most junior lieutenant. His adopted daughter. Every year she would learn new skills, how to shoot, how to survive in a knife fight. How to cut space fuel so you could make more profit.
They'd started out living in Ripper's Caravel, roaming the universe looking for 'marks' as he always called them. By the time she was thirteen he had a big enough crew that he set up his own clan, hidden amongst the asteroid cloud in Nathan's Voyage. That was when he taught her how to fly. Her first ship had been a run down Discoverer that one of Ripper's boys had stolen in Belt of Aguilar. He'd given it to her for her birthday.
As she got older Ripper had started involving her in more and more heists, until finally, when she was nineteen, he'd sent her out on her own in a Nova Raider. “A quick lock 'n' shred Jenny Wren.” he'd said to her as they walked down to the docking bay. “That's all it takes, then you get yourself home, ya hear me.” She'd kissed him on the cheek and winked as she walked away.
“Yes Uncle Jak. Don't worry, I'm a big girl now, I can handle myself.”
As her ship shot out into the dark the pirate laughed to himself. “You always could, my girl. You always could.”
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When she was twenty three, one of Ripper's boys had drugged and raped her. Not one of the regular boys, one of the new guys he'd hired to cover some of his losses over the years. She shuddered at the memory, then laughed quietly to herself as the memory of her Uncle Jak throwing the scumbag into the airlock popped into her mind. “Ripper!” he'd screamed from behind the glass. “For frak's sake, please!”
“Nobody touches my girl without her say so.” Ripper had grunted nonchalantly, before flipping the lever and decompressing the airlock.
“Thank you Uncle Jak.” she whispered. In the quiet of the bar her voice suddenly sounded loud, so she emptied the bottle and staggered towards her suite. As her head hit the pillow the tears began.
For the first time in almost twenty years, Jennifer Rock cried herself to sleep.
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Meh. Yeah. Mornin'. Not surprisin'ly I woke up in a right shit mood this mornin', so no grief ya hear me? I said ya hear me!? Right. Good. No, I don't wanna talk about it. I got plans today, and they ain't gettin' frakked up because I'm distracted by my emotions.
After crawlin' out o' my bunk this mornin' I spent a good bit o' time with my head in the can, took a hot shower and downed about a quart o' coffee. Food's out o' the question until my gut stops doin' star jumps, and until I've got myself well and truly limbered up I don't much fancy travellin' at almost 500m/s, so I have Tendencies load up with jump fuel and hop up here to meet me.
I've decided to take another crack at stealin' a Cobra from under the noses o' the Split military today. There's at least one more that's based out o' the military base in Ghinn's Escape, so I send messages down to Talia 'n' George to pack up some o' the ships. We're gonna be holed up in Hila's Joy while I conduct operations next door, so the pair o' them jump up, along with Last Resort, Suckerpunch, Boots and Tools. My final merc only has a couple o' hours left on his trainin' course, and then I'll be able to bounce The Metatron up here 'n' all, givin' me a full crew to work with.
Tools has been loaded with jump fuel and all the extra missiles I might need, and after gettin' everyone else in place I finally jump Speedhorn up there. If all goes accordin' to plan I'm gonna need a way to get back to Company Pride, and a spare jumpdrive fer my capture.
Whilst I'm makin' my way up into Black Hole Sun I have Speedhorn lay out a satellite in Ghinn's, It's only a border sector, so the locals won't shoot at it, at least until after I start makin' trouble. That lets me keep close tabs on what the ships homebased to the outpost are up to. One's registerin' it's location as Family Njy, that might be a bit too hot fer an attempted op. The other one's supposedly in Ghinn's, only when I compare the IFF codes to the ship I can see on the satellite feed, I see it's not the same ship...
Interestin'. I think that merits a bit o' further investigation, don't you? So I bounce to Hila's and dock up at the military outpost to sort out my ships.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Talia walked silently across the docking bay, not because she was trying to be quiet, but because her lifetime of practice had become second nature. As the pale skinned assassin saw her friend though, she almost gasped. Almost.
“Good Gunne, Wren, you look like shit. What happened?”
“Frak off Talia.” The taller woman snapped, whipping her shaved head about with a fierce glare. Her expression softened a heartbeat later. “Sorry honey,” Wren began, all the fire banished from her voice, “it's been a rough twenty four hours, ya know?”
“Looks like it.” Talia replied coldly, clearly unimpressed with her friends drinking habit. “How many bottles of whiskey did it take to convince you of that?”
“None.” Wren shot back at her, turning to carry on loading missiles from the Caiman into her Skate. “It was findin' out my family home's been destroyed that did it. The whiskey just numbed the pain long enough fer me to sleep.”
She turned, facing her friend, one of the few she had left. “Good enough to get you off o' my back?”
“Shit, Wren, I'm sorry. You got any idea who was behind it?” Wren chuckled. “What?”
“Your first thought, on hearin' that my family might o' been killed, instead o' offerin' platitudes or comfort, was revenge.” Talia looked at her strangely, then grinned wide as Wren smiled that wolfish, evil smile. “Mine too.”
“So what do you know already?” Talia asked.
“Only that there was a Cerberus involved. I got no idea on escorts, crew or captain. Not even a homebase. But I'll find 'em Talia.” Her face tightened in a moment of cold rage.
“I have to.”
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
By the time I'd finished sortin' everythin' out and talking to Talia the last o' my mercs had finished trainin', meanin' I'm ready to go annoy the Split. Tendencies is all kitted out fer suppressin' and fryin' my targets, and I'm carryin' enough high yield missiles to crack their defences if I have to. Suckerpunch is filled with tomahawks and some spare jump fuel, in case there's anythin' heavy I need to dispose of in a hurry. Like this frakkin' Python that's shown up in the sector.
That could be problematic, but I reckon my bomber is up fer the job. With The Metatron jumped up here from Acquisition Repository, it's time to mosey on into Ghinn's and get some info on that mysterious Cobra. A passive scan as I'm passin' him shows he's carryin' no missiles at all, and as I look down through his information I find no countermeasures either.
Bingo. Now all I need to do is take care o' the escortin' ships and we're good to go! A quick lock on one o' the Mambas and I'm rollin' my first hammerhead into the mix. That ought to deal with the two fighters, the bomber and the Heavy Dragon on the Cobra's port side, and I swiftly bracket one o' the Mamba Vanguards in the other escort group and unleash my final hammerhead.
It's lookin' a li'l hairy fer the first minute, as the missiles have to get past the asteroids without hittin' anythin', but I've chosen my strike well and moments later it's just me and the Cobra.
And the damn Python. And then, to make matters even more complicated, one o' the two Cobras homebased to the outpost here jumps in through the south gate. Oddly, neither it nor the now hostile M2 are makin' any kind o' move in my direction, so I start layin' into my target.
I steadily orbit around him, drainin' his shields with my Ions until my energy gets low, then makin' the switch to my chainguns to get them bottomed out. As my fully recharged disruptors start flayin' his ships systems, two o' his shield generators burn out. That's a bonus as it'll make it easier to keep his shields low enough fer me to burn out his guns.
I spend a good twenty minutes fryin' him, and still none o' the other ships in the sector are payin' us any attention. One o' his rear guns has been burned out, but he's not replacin' it so I can completely disarm him. So I let myself drift round to his firin' arc, and hey presto! A quick dodge o' fire put me back on target, and we carry on like that fer another half an hour.
Finally he's got just the one CIG and the flak array fer me to fry....
And that's when the frakkin' Boron showed up. With their CIG wieldin' Heavy Hydra. And naturally, seein' an unshielded Split ship, they just had to have a pop. Frakkin' squids!
Right. Now not only am I in need o' a new mark, I'm out o' hammerheads fer clearance. Bollocks!
A quick check o' the military outpost reveals one o' their Cobras is still in Family Njy, so I decide to bounce down there and see what kind o' opposition I might be facin'. Oh. That's rather a lot o' hardware. To make matters worse, this Cobra's properly armed. Right.
I jump back to Ghinn's with the intention o' tryin' fer the last Cobra, but this'n is even better armed'n the last.
Grr.
With no other option jumpin' out at me I make the jump back to Hila's Joy. As I was crossin' towards the military outpost I got a call fer a convoy hit over in Shareholder's Fortune. I'm none too impressed with the Boron right at the minute, but it's a payin' job, and it means I get to blow someone up, which makes me happy.
Agreein' to the contract I make a quick stop at the dock to refuel Tendencies and switch over to Boots before jumpin' up to find my marks. Unsurprin'ly they're a bunch o' Split and it's not long before I've blasted 'em all to shrapnel and reaped my 1.8 million cred reward. That makes me feel a li'l better, so I bounce back to Hila's to see what else the Boron might be offerin'.
First thing I see is a patrol mish. That's the kind o' job where it's good to have backup, so I call Keres and Ladie's Man out from the dock. There's a pirate wing movin' across the sector now, but as we're headin' in to tackle 'em they drift into range o' the passin' Thresher and his wing. They account fer most o' the pirates, but we do get to dance with the Centaur.
That completes the mission 'n' I wire George 'n' Talia their seventy five thousand each. The next job on offer is an assassination on a rogue Teladi. Bein' right up my street I instantly agreed and jumped over to Ocean o' Fantasy. The mark goes down in moments to Boots savage PBE/EBC combo, and I bounce back to my pilots before the mark's pals even blink.
As we're moochin' across Hila's lookin fer more work I spot another convoy hit over in Tkr's Deprivation. I tell my wing to sit this one out 'n' head back to the outpost before jumpin' back into Split turf. My two marks are only fifteen klicks away, so I roll a couple o' banshees at 'em fer a quick kill and pick up my 1.5 million cred.
I bounce back to Hila's and refuel. There's no more jobs on offer here, so I push into Ocean, but there's nothin' there either. I'm a bit loathe to head north on account o' the Xenon, but I'm all out o' options.
Halfway across Bluish Snout I spot a Khaak cluster that's already broken up. Oi. That could be trouble. And they're headin' my way...
It's a weird battle. The whole lot o' them move like birds, all flockin' together in the same direction. I scrap the M3 first and then turn my PBEs on the scouts. It takes a li'l while, as most o' them are twice as fast as Boots, but finally I shred the last one, fer the loss o' 49% o' my shields. I'd much rather deal with 'em when they're still a cluster, thank you!
By the time my shields have recharged I've drifted into Menelaus' Paradise. As I'm passin' the local equipment dock I get an offer to hold the sector against Xenon incursion. It's only a single P and a couple o' scouts, but I think that was some kinda test. See, once I'd cleared the Xenon out o' the sector 'n' been paid fer my efforts, I got a call from this squid in his Enhanced Dolphin.
You want what?
Now, search 'n' rescue ain't really my thing, ya know? I'm more a shoot to kill kinda girl. Yeah, that's my excuse. It's got nothin' whatsoever to do with the whole 'flyin' into Xenon core space' bit. Honest.
Not wantin' to fall out with the Boron now they consider me a long lost tentacle, I tell the guy I'll go look, but first I need to go and do some stuff. Ya know, away from here...and the Xenon.
So I cruise on into Getsu Fune. As I'm passin' the Argon equipment dock they ask me to help 'em defend their assets from...(sigh)...Xenon incursion. Thinkin' this will be as simple as the last I agree to the job and motor off towards the north gate.
Ah. That's quite a bit o' trouble. I start snappin' missiles off at the Ls and the M, intent on catchin' the Ns as they pass me. It seems most o' my missiles missed their marks though, as moments after fraggin' the last N, I was under fire from all quarters.
As PBE fire started biting into my hull I made a rushed stab fer the jump controls. Some days ten seconds can feel like a whole frakkin' lifetime, and today was one o' those days. As more and more o' my hull integrity fell away the ship's computer started pipin' up with a list o' extensions and hardware that was damaged or destroyed. I'm just expectin' her to announce that my jumpdrive's toast, when the drive kicks in and I reappear at the eastern gate.
Thoroughly singed, and with my hull down to just 58% I pulled up above the gate. A quick check o' Boots systems reveals the loss o' my patrol software, but it seems everythin' else is in workin' order. I should still have a bit o' time before the Xenon track down here, so I hop out 'n' start patchin' Boots. There's still no sign o' the P and his buddies by the time I'm done, so I head back on across the sector.
This time they're all a bit more spread out, so I take the last o' them down one by one and finally get paid my 700k. That just about does me fer the day though I think. My hangover's been pesterin' me fer the last couple o' hours, so I jump back down to Hila's and dock up at the outpost.
As I'm climbin' out o' Boots' cockpit though, I find myself lookin' at Speedhorn. Ya know, with the Mk1 turbo booster she might actually be fast enough to do this crazy mish fer the Boron?
I think on it fer a while longer, and finally decide to go fer it. Leavin' word with my pilots that I'll be out o' sector fer the night I shoot on over to the Ocean o' Fantasy shipyard, dock up and arrange some quarters fer the night. It's been a weird old day and tomorrow's set to be even weirder.
Assets:
'Ragin' Speedhorn' – Discoverer Raider
Fully tuned
3x 1Mj shield
4x IRE
'Keres' – Perseus Raider [Talia Corvo]
'Ladie's Man' – Mamba [George Oaken]
'Old Boots' – Medusa
'Violent Tendencies' – Skate
'Assassin's Creed' - Mamba
'Tools o' the Trade' – Caiman
'Small Fry' - Octopus
'Mostly Harmless' – Discoverer
'The Metatron' – Hermes
'Last Resort' - Manta
'Suckerpunch' - Peregrine
Perseus Raider
Mako
Demeter x3 - CLS
Demeter Miner
Demeter Hauler – CLS collector (Aladna Hill)
Caiman – CLS Storage Locker (Freedom's Reach)
Dolphin Tanker – CLS Storage Locker (Company Pride)
Demeter Super Freighter – Storage
Demeter Super Freighter XL – Storage
29,315,445 Credits
Last edited by Kirlack on Thu, 23. May 13, 15:43, edited 2 times in total.
Madder than a bastard on Fathers Day
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
My DiD Stories: Peace(s) of Eight (Inactive) - Way of the Gun [KIA] - Status: Online (Active)
An Illustrated Idiots Guide to CLS
Trust me Wren ol' sport, you're not gonna have anything but weird days.
A Pirate's Revenge Completed Now in PDF by _Zap_
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
APR Book 2: Best Served Cold Updated 8/5/2016
The Tale of Ea't s'Quid Completed
Dovie'andi se tovya sagain
Nice chapter, Kirlack
You lack a [ in one of your links, though
You lack a [ in one of your links, though
A quick check o' the military outpost reveals one o' their Cobras is still in Family Njy, so I decide to bounce down there and see what kind o' opposition I might be facin'. url=http://i1236.photobucket.com/albums/ff4 ... n00038.png]Oh[/url].
I'm sorry, I can't hear you over the sound of how awesome I am
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed
DiDs:
Eye of the storm Completed
Eye of the storm - book 2 Inactive
Black Sun - Completed
Endgame - Completed