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On Her Majesty's Secret Service-Dead is Dead, and he's DEAD
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Timsup2nothin





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 02:50    Post subject: On Her Majesty's Secret Service-Dead is Dead, and he's DEAD Reply with quote Print

On Her Majesty's Secret Service
-or-
What The Squid DiD
-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Prologue

Jula No sighed deeply as he paddled along the corridor. His eight shorter arms stirred the methane atmosphere ineffectively, but he resisted the urge to use the reach of his longer tentacles to pull himself along the walls. As a child he had crawled over bottom stones in that fashion, but as an adult Boron he valued the delicate suckers of the enlarged pads on his tentacles too highly to put them to such a use. From the layers of smeared prints on the corridor walls he could tell that many other new arrivals did not feel so strongly and had dragged themselves ignobly into their new environment.

Finally, with another sigh, he reached the end of the corridor and handed his papers to the customs attendant. "Greetings and welcome," shrilled the attendant with typical Boron enthusiasm; a friendliness Jula found hard to match and somewhat grating under his current circumstances. "First time off planet?"

His papers said that it was his first time off planet. The fact that he could barely swim through the atmosphere, extremely thick but still just a gas, fairly screamed that it was his first time off planet. Meekly, in what he hoped was a tone of wonder, he replied "It certainly is. I've looked forward to this trip for ages."

The attendant stamped his papers and gave him an encouraging flash of his beak. "Don't worry friend, you'll be swimming like the space spawned in no time!"

Jula struggled on across the customs area and into a corridor marked "Access-Lodgings, Refreshments". Feeling the attendant's eyes on his back he reached out a tentacle and gave a surreptitious tug on one of the walls, gaining a quick boost in the minimal gravity. He wiped a speck of...something...off the edge of a suction disk. He struggled around a corner, putting himself out of sight, and looked quickly around to make sure he was quite alone.

Satisfied, Jula threw all his legs into a swirling blur of motion and sped away, turning into an unmarked tunnel leading deeper into the bowels of the trading station.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Theoretically there are no rules to DiD's except that dead is dead, and I'll abide by that one. If there were other standard rules I'd no doubt be breaking them. Of course I will be violating several standards, but I will follow my own rules, which I'll explain in detail momentarily.

I'm not writing first person, which is pretty much the standard. It wouldn't work for the story I intend to play out, which I will be sharing from a number of different points of view. I also want to exercise my third person skills which I don't think are as sharp.

I will follow the standard of punctuating the narrative with 'hard data updates' from the game, this being the first of those.

My game is Terran Conflict and is modified, in as much as I have a thing that converts race ranks and such into numerical values. As a side effect it allows me to check my status with the Yaki and Pirates. I have and extensively use the bonus pack. I also have but have not yet installed a thing that removes complex tubes. I might install that at some point for performance reasons.

You may have recognized that Jula No is not the harmless tourist from planetside that he is pretending to be. His planetside trip was actually for his induction into the secret service of the Kingdom, and his previous identity has been eradicated. Since he is completely unknown a 'boring Boron' start is a good fit, so that's what I'll use.

Now for the unique rules of the game.

Jula is a loyal servant of the Kingdom, so he will only take missions from Boron, except in pursuit of contacts and information. Covert missions fit that bill so he can take those from anyone. The netherworld of the universe is his assigned terrain, so missions for Yaki, pirates, and Goners are also acceptable...though Split are the enemy, even Split pirates, and he will not work with them.

Because he has to operate completely 'under the radar' I will be playing with these unique limitations:

No orders transmitted through the gate network. Any ships that are out of sector will be either docked or manned by a pilot operating under specific orders and guidelines. Ships left floating in space out of sector will be assumed to be subject to claiming by other forces and will be self destructed. If the pilots get into trouble they either need to get out of it on their own or Jula is going to have to go there to help them.

Stations will be operated as shell companies. To maintain his cover, access to station accounts will only be done 'in person' and will be limited in that he will never be able to take more than 5% of their credits on hand for fear of drawing attention to his connection to the company. Any ships and pilots assigned to basic trading activities MUST have a home base to operate from as part of a shell company, no money trail will connect to Jula No.

Jula will use Boron fighters and capital ships only. His primary contacts will be Boron and they also will use Boron craft. Freighters of other origin can be used, and may be piloted by hired pilots of other species. Any warships of other than Boron design will be flown to a Boron shipyard for analysis. To protect his cover and contacts in the Boron military he will have to deliver these personally. Storage of these ships until the opportunity to deliver them is acceptable in 'secure or obscure facilities', shell company stations or pirate bases.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The Allies

The Kamal, flagship of the notorious Split pirate Yo t'Kt, veered sharply to starboard. Her port side was bathed in the eerie glow of the explosion. Shrapnel, all that was left of the orbital weapons platform, shattered into smaller fragments in the powerful fields created by her shield generators. Yo t'Kt pulsed his gill slits with satisfaction.

“Their carrier is still in the docking clamps!” he crowed. Orders poured from his lipless gash of a mouth in a stream. “Ahead flank! Fighters to cover, all wings! Bring us to course 057! Navigator, mark the turn. Helm, stand by to turn her full to starboard and 20 degrees up on my mark. When the base shadows us from their other weapons platform we will bring the port cannons to bear.”

Aboard the Argon military base klaxons rang through the stark corridors. Pilots raced for the hanger bays. The crew of the carrier was caught scattered all over the base. They had only docked from an extended patrol an hour before. Officers and crewmen alike came up short at the sound of the alarms. Dice and cards scattered from abandoned tables onto hard metal floors. The scent of Argon whiskey wafted up from spills.

Pirate fighters formed up on their carrier as it bore down on the station. Then, with her overtuned maneuvering thrusters screaming in protest she heeled over on her right side and the great founts of plasma burst from her port cannons. Despite massive energy shields the huge structure of the base vibrated with the blast.

“Full stop! Wings two and three, to her hanger ports!” Yot'Kt shouted. “All other wings, fire at will! Bring down their shields!” The galleon rocked as the great cannons belched plasma again and again.

As the saying goes there are bold pilots, and there are old pilots, but there are no old, bold pilots. Many Argon defenders reached their ships and flung themselves boldly into space to defend their base, only to meet billows of blazing plasma ignited by the burst generators of Yo t'Kt's fighter wings. With no time to form up and no room to maneuver they withered like grass.

On the command deck of the military base a terrified crewman watched his control panel. He shouted off the numbers as his indicators passed them. “Shields at sixty...fifty...forty...” The intervals were not long enough for him to draw breath and he gasped out “thirty”...

Aboard the colossus carrier chaos reigned. One of the most powerful ships in space, she was caught with not enough crew, and not enough hands dockside to release her. She would share the grim fate of the station.

Suddenly green hulls shone in the reflected light of the scorching plasma! A tight wedge formation of Boron heavy fighters swung around the flank of the battered station, concentrated fire leaping from their weapons arrays. The pirate fighters, their laser banks depleted by the attack on the station, were forced into a disorderly retreat. The sleek form of a Boron Shark carrier swung into view behind her fighters, barely clearing the station before her own great guns barked.

Caught hanging almost stationary in space, Kamal took the full brunt of the Shark's opening broadside. On her engineering decks the crew scurried to bring her up to speed, but she still swung ponderously, barely making way, while the Shark raced across her bow raking her shields with steady fire from her cannons. Even though the pirate vessel sported greater firepower, she could never recover from her early disadvantage.

Yo t'Kt would have given no quarter. From the Boron he did not expect any, nor did he ask it. The mighty Kamal left the universe in a cloud of debris and burning plasma.

Not long after the battle, on the hanger deck of the battered military base, an officer asked one of the supply sergeants “Was that one of the pilots from the shark?”

“I thought so, but now I'm not sure.” His glance passed across the crew that had been working on the Boron Octopus in the tight confines of the shipping bay. He was met by a wave of shrugs and non-committal grunts. “He started bringing in missile salvage right after the big blast.”

The officer checked through some papers on a clipboard. “Jula No, of the Wikstrom. Has no records at all. The little squid is a ghost. What did we put on his ship?”

The sergeant took the clipboard and looked at the documents in dismay. “Four impulse ray emitters. All the little bucket would hold. Damn.”

“Well,” the officer said with a shrug as he made some notations and signed the change to the documents, “he brought in some good salvage and without the Boron we would likely be space dust, so we'll just call him one of the good guys.”

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cold hard facts.

I've got the Wikstrom, an octopus that couldn't catch a cold, or outrun one either. With a single 1MJ shield and four IREs her cargo bay is bursting at the seams. It took four trips gathering up a couple or four missiles at a time, and almost all the good ones are M cargo that I had to leave behind, but at least I put together enough Argon rep and credits to buy the guns, and I've got 56,292 credits burning a hole in my pocket besides. Can't say life is good yet, but at least it ain't over.

Flight time 1:36


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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!!!


Last edited by Timsup2nothin on Mon, 7. Oct 13, 20:50; edited 3 times in total
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stads





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 03:09    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

like the start of this one

a boron 007 wonder what miss monepenny is gone be like

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Timsup2nothin





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 05:19    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Stads obviously recognized at least one of the clever (?) 007 references. There are three. Virtual prize awarded to the first reader who points them out.

fine print-virtual prize delivered by virtual reality courier directly to virtual reality residence...virtually postage free


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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!!!
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Zaitsev





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 06:40    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Mmm ... Good start, I'll be watching this one Smile


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Kirlack



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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 18:44    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Nice work Tim, very different perspective to any other DiD styled stories I've read Smile Looking forward to the next installment! Very Happy


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Timsup2nothin





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 20:13    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Blood on the Tentacles


The pirate base nestled among the astroids. Its skin was dark, a good design for going unseen by those who didn't know where it was, had it been as intentional as design. Closer inspection revealed the dark color to be the result of plasma scorching. The hull had aparrently had a previous life as a huge transport, which ended badly. Odd bits protruded here and there, obviously welded on by hurried hands. Half a freighter had been stuck on as a storage space, conveniently accessed through a tear in the transport's superstructure that had been too big to patch. Hull plates of dubious origin bandaged smaller wounds. Jula No, approaching in the Wikstrom, checked that his methane rebreather was fully charged. The former transport may have been patched up enough to hold an atmosphere of sorts, but it certainly wouldn't be the compressed methane he needed to breathe.

He slid the tiny ship into the docking bay manually. The base had been set up with the docking port pointed directly at an astroid, the approach beacons dimly illuminating the unforgiving rock face. As he floated out of the cockpit, tentacles beating the thin air, he commented on the odd set up to the burly dock hand who had clamped down his ship.

The dock hand gave the odd lowing sound that serves as laughter among the Paranid. "You should see when some fool tries to come in on autopilot," he said. "We take bets on whether the pilot will notice the collision avoidance overiding the docking program in time. If the ship takes two or three runs at the approach pattern it usually finds an angle where the collision avoidance won't be fast enough and paints the 'roid."

Another hand, an Argon, spoke bitterly. "I lost five credits on you squid. Fast little eggshells like yours tend to move too fast for their systems."

Despite his innate Boron courtesy Jula couldn't quite bring himself to apologize for making it on board without dying. The docking bay of a pirate base was probably not a good place for courtesy anyway. He closed the cockpit canopy, activated the security monitor link to his rebreather and swam into the station's recreation area.

Very little recreation was going on. The bartender informed Jula that his space fuel suppliers were 'dry as old bones in vacuum' and had been for some time. No space weed was available either. Jula gave a moment's consideration to the possibility he was being refused service out of prejudice, but the surliness of the other denizens trapped on the dry base proved otherwise. No one was being served, Boron or not, and no one was happy about it.

He asked around, and suffered some abuse for the effort, but learned what he wanted to know. Unfortunately he had swum away from the what he was looking for. He paddled back to the docking bay and approached the hulking Paranid. "Tammankulot?"

"Leaving so soon? Not much of a party I suppose," was the grumbled reply.

"Actually, I hear you have some equipment that I could use."

After some negotiation, fruitless in the face of Tammankulot's firm price, the Paranid struggled into the cramped cargo bay of the Wikstrom to install an extended life support system.

"By the priest duke! Who would ride in such cramped space?"

"You should have seen it before I got the cargo compression units."

"They look new," he said, swiveling one of his three eyes away from the work he was doing.

"Just picked them up at the trading station in Elena's Fortune."

"They do good work there. I can't do better and I won't do cheaper, but maybe next time you need a ship tuned up stop here. Some pilots prefer not to pass the military base the thrice cursed Argon put up in the sector."

"I'll keep it in mind."

The dockhand mechanic squrmed free of the cargo bay. "All set. Speaking of other ships, do you own a freighter? Or anything bigger than this eggshell?"

"I wish I did. Why?"

"Some of the boys set up a little processing system, just room sized, nothing big. Can't get space fuel past the Argon Bastu's, can't get any spaceweed out of the Teladi cartels; they figured they could get a good price for bad home grown if we could get hold of some swamp plant, and swamp plant isn't illegal to ship. No luck finding a freighter though."

Jula laid the back of a tentacle across the skin of the Wikstrom. "Well, I'd be happy to help, but with this I'd have to bring it in one leaf at a time." He pulled himself into the cockpit and sealed the canopy.

The Wikstrom popped free of the docking bay and banked hard to port to avoid the astroid. Jula wondered if anyone had bet against him. His musing was interrupted by a warning tone from the ship's computer. A quick glance at the scanner revealed an angry red marker indicating a small ship, weaving through the astroid field and closing rapidly. He pushed his recently tuned engines to full throttle and quickly opened some distance, nervously picking the astroids out of the gloom.

With his primary tentacles steering he tapped the targeting system with the tip of one of his shorter legs and risked a quick glance, revealing the target as a Split Jaguar, cruising at 340 m/s. He tapped the interrogative, and was not surprised when he got less than complete information from the Split ship's identification systems; a courier; but no destination revealed. His own computer provided a maximum speed for the model of ship; but could not account for how well tuned its engines might be. Fully tuned it could easily outpace the Octopus.

At a safe distance Jula slowed to a more manageable speed and pointed the Octopus towards a patch of clear star field. He still kept a wary eye ahead, but also monitored the Split's actions.

He relaxed slightly as it became obvious that the Split was passing by through the astroid field and not in pursuit, apparently just going about his business. The peaceful nature of the Boron counselled Jula to just let him go, but he told himself a plain truth. No Split courier will ever bring good news to a Boron. He laid on the throttle and began the pursuit.

At full speed, 427 m/s, he was closing on the split at almost five km every minute. As the Jaguar approached the gate the pilot slowed it briefly, and almost fell into range of the IREs. Then a convoy emerged from the gate; a Strong Arms weapons trader with full escort. Strong Arms, a corporate mask pulled thinly over the face of the Split government, would not likely stand idly by if he opened fire on the courier. In fact they might not even stand for him being as close to them as he was. He peeled away and gave them a wide berth as the Jaguar slipped through the gate.

When the path cleared to resume the chase the quarry had established a wide margin. Only as the two ships sped across full sectors did it narrow appreciably. Jula was surprised to find the pursuit taking him into Boron territory, and hoped he could end it there.

Eventually he wondered if he was chasing the luckiest Split in the universe. Passing through the gate into Menalaus' Frontier he knew it would be a near thing, and pondered whether it would be wise to continue the chase into Teladi territory. Of course with only one mega-joule of shielding he had been pondering all along whether it was wise to take on the Jaguar in the first place, and considered that it might be for the best if the Split escaped.

With the gate to Teladi space looming a mere three kilometers ahead of the sharp pointed bow of the Jaguar Jula closed into extreme range and hit the trigger. Before the startled Split could react the probing fingers of particles had shredded through his shielding and begun to eat into his hull. A violent swerve to avoid a collision, a skidding turn, a second pass cut short by a small but violent explosion; Jula's Boron sensibilities shuddered slightly, but he took bleak satisfaction from his first kill.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Cold hard facts

The Wikstrom has been fully tuned, with the cargo bay fully extended to a whopping 15 units. Big enough to stuff in one desperate passenger, even if I 'load it up' with its full compliment of meager shielding...which I can't afford to do with the 1,061 credits I have left. At least now it is fast enough to run away, and even fast enough to run down a hapless Jaguar...eventually. Life still isn't great yet, but it's a darn site better than that Split courier's.

Flight time 2:23


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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!!!
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Kirlack



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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 20:31    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Timsup2nothin wrote:
Big enough to stuff in one desperate passenger...
Are you playing AP or TC Tim? Not that I think it matters, I'm fairly sure the Octopus can only carry S sized cargo in either game, and passengers are M class...

Now the bit I like, from a writer's perspective:

MOAR! Razz


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Timsup2nothin





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 20:44    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Kirlack wrote:
Timsup2nothin wrote:
Big enough to stuff in one desperate passenger...
Are you playing AP or TC Tim? Not that I think it matters, I'm fairly sure the Octopus can only carry S sized cargo in either game, and passengers are M class...


Laughing

Suddenly I remember why I never fly these crummy little ships. I have ruled myself out of my usual discoverer...I've spent two thirds of my available credits on life support for any vermin that I pick up in my tiny cargo hold...tough break for the Boron. Should have gotten fighter command software.

TC by the way.


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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!!!
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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 20:54    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Meh. Buy a Kestrel Very Happy Best runaround you can get. Except maybe the Pirate Kestrel, but that puts Jula in harm's way, and we don't want that Razz

Do we? Razz Razz

Timsup2nothin wrote:
TC by the way.


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Timsup2nothin





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PostPosted: Thu, 14. Mar 13, 21:44    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Kirlack wrote:
Meh. Buy a Kestrel Very Happy Best runaround you can get. Except maybe the Pirate Kestrel, but that puts Jula in harm's way, and we don't want that Razz

Do we? Razz Razz



Not too much. And the rules rule out kestrels just as much as discoverers, unfortunately.


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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!!!
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PostPosted: Fri, 15. Mar 13, 01:24    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Ah, yes indeed, my bad. I had to go back and read them again Embarassed

I really like the whole clandestine money transfers thing mate. I wish I'd thought of something like that for Po8 to be honest.


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Triaxx2





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PostPosted: Fri, 15. Mar 13, 02:08    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

I don't know, I mean, I like the Octopus, it's not fantastic for a real combat ship but it's hard to beat for a cheap runner while you earn cash. And you'll find that catching a bigger fish is surprisingly easy, especially when you're buzzing around them, and virtually unable to hit you.

Of course it's a razors edge, one hit will vaporize you.


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PostPosted: Fri, 15. Mar 13, 03:18    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Triaxx2 wrote:
I don't know, I mean, I like the Octopus, it's not fantastic for a real combat ship but it's hard to beat for a cheap runner while you earn cash. And you'll find that catching a bigger fish is surprisingly easy, especially when you're buzzing around them, and virtually unable to hit you.

Of course it's a razors edge, one hit will vaporize you.


I'm a veteran M5 fighter...way more than any other kind of fighter...and I have no problem with the Octopus as a fighter...but it can't do ANYTHING else. Taxi missions? No. Fetch cargo? Sure, if you want ONE, and it's small. Go looking for stuff? No tri-plex.

I forgot that when I made the rules. Looks like her majesty's servant will be focusing on bumping up to a Mako...or a transport of some sort maybe. Probably just as well given this DiD business. Don't want to end early with a resounding SPLAT, which with an M5 is too easy to do.


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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!!!
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PostPosted: Fri, 15. Mar 13, 04:42    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Well, if you successfully bump up to an Octo Raider, it's easier because it's got a built-in Triplex. I actually had a spot in my DiD where I towed a Condor across a large portion of the universe, and I used a pair of Octo Raiders to run ahead and look for incoming capitals so I didn't get close to the gate and then die because another capital came out of the gate.


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PostPosted: Fri, 15. Mar 13, 18:50    Post subject: Reply with quote Print

Split Justice


Nu t'Nst stood at rigid attention. He felt more like slumping with his eyes turned to the floor in shame. Actually, he would have preferred to just fall through the floor into the vacuum of space, this time without a suit. Of course at the critical moment, he had made a different choice.

The commodore of sector defenses was in a towering rage. "He is a coward and a disgrace! He is no Split. The shame is on your family!" He pounded his desk, which looked like it might crumple under the onslaught, with every other word. His great fist rose higher each time, a threat and an insult.

Across the desk the threat was noted, and the representative from family Ng came even closer to losing control of his own temper. "Our courier was flying an unarmed ship in your sector! Unarmed because your family insists on it, yet your patrols stood by while he was ruthlessly attacked! The shame is on your family, not ours!"

"One of our own citizens was attacked as well! No patrol was standing by. No patrol was even within scanner range!"

"And why not? What sort of sector defense are you pretending to run here?"

"At least our citizen, who was also unarmed, and just a civilian, had the honor to not abandon his ship!"

"Only because our heroic courier came along and interrupted the attack, even though he himself was unarmed. He is the hero, your family should be hanging their heads before him in shame."

"A hero!? He crawled into the trading station in a space suit. He left in a Raider model Jaguar!"

"Speaking of our Jaguar, we expect family Whi to reimburse us for the loss."

The commadore's gill slits pulsed twice and then the covers flared out from his neck. He was stunned in his outrage and momentarily unable to speak.

"You let a Boron...a BORON...fly into your sector and attack an unarmed citizen. Then you let this Boron wander around in a space suit, connect an umbilical to our ship, and fly away with it. You owe us an apology, as well as a ship."

Split law, imposed by the rule of Family Rhonkar, prevented the argument from ending with the two authorities at each other's throats. Split pride, product of generations, prevented it from ending without bloodshed. They would rage at each other and probably destroy the hapless desk. Eventually Nu t'Nst would not be able to hold the rigid posture and would move, or at least twitch, and they could both justifiably turn their wrath on him. If he was lucky he would end up a slave.

Jula No was unaware of the turmoil he had left behind in Family Whi. He had delivered the Jaguar Raider safely to the shipyard in Kingdom End for analysis and been rewarded with a 54,280 credit voucher. As there were no 1 MJ shields available in Kingdom End he flew to the equipment dock in Rolk's Fate, killing an Argon pirate in a Harrier who was attacking a station in Menalaus' Frontier along the way. It was another affront to his peaceful nature, but space is a dangerous place...plus he got paid for the effort.

Cold hard facts

The Wikstrom now sports its full compliment of 2 MJ of shielding and has fight command Mk1 to help with targeting. More to the point it also now has a mineral scanner so I can do something for cash besides taking the risks of flying into Split space looking for civilian ships...or the even greater risks of shooting at things that might shoot back.

Credits, 4840
Flight time, 3:43


_________________
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!!!
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