I tried a host of different approaches, everything from small and fast to big and capable of whoopin' everyone's ass, but it took about forty new attempts before I found a balance between "challenging" and "getting my ass handed to me at every corner."
Well, enough of the ranting. Let's kick it off, shall we?
NOTE: Since I'm using XRM and chose a start where the Terran plot is already completed, I took some liberties with the timeline. The starting date is still 768-05-01, but here the Terran plot has just ended. XRM also add a ton of new ships, sectors and weapons, so if you see something you're unfamiliar with it's probably because of that.
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Prelude - Winds of change
The only thing that is constant is change.
An old philosophical saying from Earth. My home. The planet the Commonwealth call 'Terra'. This last year and a half has brought about a lot of change, some good and some bad. It all began when the gate network started … rewirin' itself, in lack of a better word, and new, uninhabited sectors were discovered. Some very lose rumors also whispered about some Terran scientists bein' displeased with their working conditions back home, so they 'helped' the Commonwealth build new gates and restore old ones. According to the buzz they found some fifty new sectors before things started settlin' down again, and a lot of people were interested in gainin' a foothold in those sectors. A veritable gold rush followed, with companies, races and privateers all strugglin' to get a piece of this promised land.
Funny enough this chain of events led to the abandonment of the old trans-orbital accelerators, as simulations showed that with increasin' industrialization of the outer sectors transport via the old accelerators was just too time consuming. Rumors also had it that the mega-corporations on Earth had pushed really hard to replace the old accelerators for that very reason. Even in space, time is money.
Then there was the bad changes, as resources that were already stretched thin were strained even more, and prices on ships and gear skyrocketed as a result. Privateers and small companies tried to solve this by revivin' and modernizin' old designs, and to a certain degree they succeeded. I guess the thought of being able to save some thirty million on a ship that in most cases would do just as well as a brand new model was kind of a relief, especially if ya were operatin' on a strict budget or had people breathin' down yer neck screamin' about 'profits'.
Unfortunately more space also meant more threats, and both pirates, Xenon, or Terraformers if ya want, and the insectoid species called 'Kha'ak' spread like locusts. In an attempt to reduce this threat heavy restrictions were placed on military technology, and one size would no longer fit all. In somewhat of an ironic twist of fate, the races found them selves lackin' weapons for their ships, and it resulted in somewhat of an arms race to develop new weapons to replace the old ones.
Shortly after the gate network had returned to somethin' resemblin' normal again, reports about new Xenon models and weapons started pouring in, and new ships were rushed into service to counteract them. According to the latest buzz even the mighty Tyr had met its match, so a new heavy destroyer-class was built and the first ones rolled off the assembly lines a couple of months ago. How do I know this? Well, in my profession ya travel a lot and talk to a lot of people, and some of them have the habit of tellin' a little too much.
Speaking of too much, I think I'm goin'a have to shoot the idiot who came up with this 'Terran Conflict' operation. Gunne's nuts, what a clusterfrak. Especially those two flamin' idiots they sent undercover into the Argon Federation. Mission report said they had been there four weeks, and I'm truly flabbergasted as to how they managed to stay more than four hours without blowin' their cover. And guess who had to fly into a heavily guarded military sector and get their asses out of a pinch because captain Pearle, the undercover genius, got himself caught and his partner decided that pullin' a harebrained stunt involvin' a lot of dead pirates and a slow-as-frak freighter to break him out was the best possible solution? That's right. Me.
Not to mention the fact that one of the Split families was manufacturin' AGI drones, and Sol command decided to go medieval on them instead of taking a more … subtle approach. The only plus was that we managed to find Aldrin, a Terran colony we thought had been lost after the first Terraformer war. They even had a few interesting ships, but the price tag was just as steep as back home. Speakin' of which …
McCallum Relay. The arse end of the arse end of the Sol system, located in the outer reaches of the Oort Cloud. An outpost in the middle of buttfrak nowhere, and the home of USC HQ after that screw-up in Saturn … Long story short; it's not a place I visit often, as the relations between the USC brass and myself are a little … strained. I have a habit of speakin' my mind no matter how many trinkets the people across the table have on their chests, and if I think somethin' is impossible or downright stupid I'll tell 'em. Using really big letters too, if I have to. That's bound to cause some friction, as these dimwits are used to havin' people startin' and endin' every sentence with 'Sir!' or 'Ma'am!' and not ask any questions.
Yeah, I ain't regular military, in case ya wondered. I used to be, but that was in another lifetime. Now I'm a merc and bounty hunter, and the military sometimes, reluctantly I might add, make use of my services when they want to get a hold of people who are … how shall I say it, hard to reach. This time I was dragged in against my better judgment, though, as they threatened to freeze my assets unless I cooperated and got Pearle out of that mess he had gotten himself into. That, and they promised me a thirty million credit reward when I came back. Well, I made it back and now I'm here to collect.
"Is he in?" I looked at the assistant guardin' the door to my contact among the USC brass, Commander John Cairns. Their 'external resources liaison', as they called it.
"Yes. He's expecting you, miss Frost."
"Good." I didn't bother to wait for her to get off her ass, and opened the door myself.
I found him sittin' behind his desk, starin' at the computer screen. He quickly closed the window he was lookin' at when I entered the room, and leaned back.
"Good evening, miss Frost. How was your trip?" I rolled my eyes.
"Geez, John. Nice to see ya too. And it's 'Samara', not 'Miss Frost'. Ya ain't got the sarge lookin' over yer shoulder anymore, do ya?" He gave me a thin smile and shook his head slightly. "Good," I said. "Now, about that promise ya gave me …"
Silence.
He looked at me as if he couldn't understand me. Now I knew somethin' was wrong.
"The money, John. Remember the thirty million ya said yer superior had promised me if I got Pearle out of that shitstorm he had sailed into? It cost me, so I kinda need it." I had lost my ship, a Katana corvette, to a Xenon ambush in Belt of Aguilar, somethin' I wasn't too pleased about. Most of the crew had escaped, but since we were on an unsanctioned military mission they had been captured and detained. Mark Seldon, my XO, was the only one I had left. The USC had been nice enough to give me a Vidar assault corvette as a replacement, but it just wasn't quite the same. And now one of my best friends was stonewalling me.
"A'ight, let's cut the crap." I put my hands on his desk and leaned forward, looking him straight in the eye. "What's goin' on." It wasn't a question. John involuntarily pushed his chair back an inch or two. "C'mon, John. Spill it." Still no answer. I leaned forward another inch, pushing him further back. "Spill. It." He looked down and sighed.
"All right, all right. Sol command has decided that the ships you got more than outweighs the reward and have decided …" He swallowed. "They have decided to withhold your money. Also, your funds have been seized due to 'friendly fire' issues and 'damage control'."
"They what!?" I'm sure my voice could be heard even through the soundproofed door. I straightened up and blinked a couple of times in an attempt to grasp what he had just said. Then I looked him in the eye again.
"So in other words, yer sayin' they're tryin' to screw me, John? Ya know as well as I do that most of those ships are cannon fodder, not to mention that I don't have anyone left to man them." By the look on his face he saw the flames of hell in my eyes, and he swallowed again. We both knew what happened to the last one who had tried to pull a fast one on me. He had spent his last hours chained to a remote asteroid in the Kuiper Belt, and I had told him he could hope for some explorer to come find him or end it quickly by breaking the seals in his suit. Then I had left.
He took a breath and was about to say something when I heard the door open behind me.
"I wouldn't call it that, miss Frost. Call it … precaution."
"Hello, Victor." I recognized the voice even before I turned around. Victor Straczynski, the man who ran this damn monkey-show. "So, what's the big cheese doin' down here, away from his ivory tower?"
"I see you haven't lost your wit, miss Frost. But then again, there was never much to lose." I looked him straight in the eye and smiled. At the same time my right finger found a button on the wrist-com I was wearing.
"Well … Since we're going for the low blows, I hardly felt that one. Just like I hardly felt ya that night in New Copernicus. " Yeah, we had spent a night together, a lifetime ago. He had some … shortcomings, to put it that way.
"Always the smart ass, are we?"
"Oh, ya know … It's all behind me." I had picked up that one from a very interestin' man I had met in the Commonwealth a while ago. And he was a pirate to boot. Too bad he was so young ...
"Funny. Very funny. Let's cut to the chase, shall we."
"Unless yer tryin'a bore me to death. Then ya can keep it up for a while longer." He looked at me and snorted a laugh, grinnin' so broadly I worried his head was about to split in half.
"Oh, I'll do more than that. Much more." He looked at me like a cage fighter about to shift gears and slam his opponent through the mat. Then he turned around and shouted into the foyer. "Boys! Come and say hello!" A squad of marines rushed in and surrounded me, holdin' me at gunpoint. Victor's grin grew even bigger, if at all possible.
"Samara Frost, I am hereby placing you under arrest for contempt of and threats against your superiors, attempt to harm a fellow member of the fleet and contributing to the undermining of military and civilian authority. Anything you say from here on may be used against you in a court of law." I just smiled at him, and his grin started to falter.
"What's so funny?" he asked, sounding a tiny bit insecure.
"This," I said, holding up my wrist-com and showing him the small, blinkin' light. "And he should be here right about … Now."
A bright flash filled the room, and the station vibrated ever so slightly as the subspace shockwave of a collapsing jump point hit the shields. A boxy, utilitarian looking ship appeared outside, and turned toward our view port.
"Wh-what is that monstrosity!?" Victor exclaimed.
"That's a Teladi Tern frigate. Ya see, I spent a couple of day haulin' wrecks for the Teladi in Grand Exchange, and it proved very lucrative to say the least. I even managed to capture a Terraformer frigate that had gotten its CPU turned to swiss cheese by gauss rounds, and the Teladi were very interested in getting their claws on it. We struck a deal, and ya can see the result with yer own eyes. I loaded it with torpedoes, and the pilot has orders to hit this place with everything he got unless ya let me go. Yer move." Victor scowled at me.
"You are bluffing, Frost."
"Ya wanna bet yer life on that?" He cocked his head, as if he was listening to something, and by the look on his face he didn't get any good news.
"You'll never make it out of here alive!" he hissed.
"Watch me." Now it was my turn to grin until my head almost split in half. "Now, I've always wanted to say this …" I looked at them and activated my wrist-com. "Mister Seldon, one to beam aboard. G'day, gentlemen."
The transporter materialized me on the bridge, and I was headin' for the stick almost before it was done.
"Mark, how are we doin'?" He looked at me with his usual hapy-go-lucky-expression and gave me that skewed smile of his.
"Heavy scanning from ships in the area, but they haven't gotten through the scrambling field yet."
"Then let's get the hell out of here before they decide to call our bluff."
"What, you mean you're afraid they're gonna find out that we don't have anything but a dozen Typhoons on board, plus around twenty five Cyclones and sixty Mosquitoes?" The skewed smile grew bigger. "Not to mention that we don't have any weapons to speak of, thanks to that stunt Heywood pulled." Bloody idiot had forced me to open fire on a Teladi Osprey, something they weren't too pleased about, and my rep had plummeted as a result.
"That's exactly what I'm afraid of. So I vote for the 'let's jump the frak out of here before they penetrate that scramblin' field of yours'-option, if ya don't mind."
"What about the Lioness?" My Vidar was still docked at the station.
"Leave it." I said. "Sector patrols will be jumpin' down our throats before we can even get it out of the docking clamps. Now, if you don't mind gettin' that jump drive up and running …"
"Aye, skip. Any particular wishes?"
"Anywhere but here, or inside the Sol system at all, would be fine."
"Throw a dart at the Commonwealth map and jump to where ever it hits, aye." I heard him type a few commands on his keyboard, then the jump drive spooled up and ten seconds later we were gone.
Like dust in the wind …
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Assets:
M7 Tern - {unnamed}
36 699 credits.
Samara has been in this game long enough to know when to fight and when to get the hell out. Besides, trying to get this story rolling and getting my ass killed over and over again has taught me to be more careful. However, XRM make the X-'verse quite hostile, so no guarantees.
