Song Of Obsidian wrote:Decided to come back for a reread, and that conversation with Ninu still has me chuckling. Not to mention the Inside Biz report. Or the inconsequential genius best friend pep talk prelude to a business proposal. Or the proposal itself. Or...
Ah, hell. Just keep it going. I'm hooked.
As you wish, so shall it be.
Thanks for feedback. It's good to know the humor is coming across. Making people laugh when I can see them is a whole lot easier for me than writing into the void. I knew that I thought it was funny, but sometimes that doesn't mean a whole lot.
Found this link in your signature and am thoroughly enjoying the read. By all means continue on with it, it gets me away from the game itself. Can't wait until chapter 6. By the way, is chapter 5 done or is there going to be a part three? You never said anything after ending the part/chapter.
Kleo Keppel and I stood looking out the main viewport on the bridge of the Centaur. His Gladiator floated about half a click off the starboard stern quarter, her autopilot keeping station. An easy enough task for the autopilot, since the Centaur had just enough speed on to maintain steerage. Mak Branna stood with us. He is captain of the Centaur in my absence and when I'm aboard usually acts as chief pilot, but he had one of his younger crew manning the helm since we weren't going anywhere.
The three of us burst into fresh laughter as a frigate erupted from the gate, and the young helmsman glanced away from the screen to busy himself with a minor helm adjustment. It wasn't needed by the ship, but he probably needed it to avoid getting caught laughing with us.
"That's a frigate," Kleo said. "Cerberus class. Those pirates have had it for sure now." Mak and I took in quick gasps to fuel another gale of laughter. There were already three corvettes taking defensive stations around the gate, standard protection for the emerging capital ship, and the pirates in question had exactly two ships, a scout and an interceptor.
"Wait!" I said, getting their attention back on the screen. "I think the frigate is turning to...yeah, he's dropping below the gate and the corvettes are sliding to the three other quadrants. That's not their flagship."
"You might be right," Kleo agreed. Then right on cue a Colossus carrier erupted into real space. We laughed so hard tears made my vision watery, but I could still see the frigate tuck in to protect the carrier's aft while the three corvettes weaved in a protective pattern ahead of her. Fighters, scouts, and interceptors belched from her hanger decks in steady streams.
"That's a full division, thirty-eight ships," I manged to get out through clenched teeth that were holding back my mirth for the moment.
Then the scanner watch sang out "Pirate flight on long range scanners," and Mak added quietly, "Scanners aren't sensitive enough to tell if the pilots have wet their pants yet so we don't know what range scanners the pirates have," and we doubled over again.
The missile detection unit started stuttering alarms. The operator calmly announced missiles away from the Argon armada. Wasps. About thirty launched.
"Well, we know their scanners have the range," Kleo said. We all sobered somewhat. We had all been on the wrong end of a cloud of missiles in small craft at times, and even though we had no real sympathy for the pirates it still cast a pall.
No doubt we had been setting a bad example for some of the youngsters in the crew anyway, so probably just as well. But I think even the rawest crewman should be allowed to enjoy a moment after a battle, even though our battle had not been particularly hard fought. At least we had had more on our hands than this Argon fleet did.
The Argon armada wasn't in Nyana's Hideout just to annihilate a couple of low end smugglers, although that was what they were doing, in spades. They were here to respond to a Xenon incursion. Probably called in by half a dozen stations across the far flung sector. My cattle ranch hadn't bothered calling the fleet, they had called me.
Kleo and his missile crews had gotten off ten tomahawks about as fast as I could count to ten, and the Q frigate exploded about thirty seconds before the Centaur came into range of her guns. We closed with the escorts, three L class fighters, and eliminated them. We were considering the pirates when the communications office at Hidden Ranch reported the Argon defense forces were inbound at the gate, so we opted to just watch.
I waited until the fleet had moved well out into the sector on their fruitless search, then submitted vids of the Q and three Ls exploding, with my civilian defense force license number attached. The admiral in charge glowered from the screen, knowing he had wasted his time, along with a few thousand pilots' and crewmembers' time...but he endorsed my claim.
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Pol Craddock turned to his second in command. Both men stood in front of a large viewport on what had once been the bridge of a Mammoth station transporter. They had boarded the Mammoth together, had fought side by side most of their lives. "Get the laser crews relieved and get them over here," Craddock growled. "We are deep in the shit here." He turned back to the port, staring at the Centaur picking its way through the growing cloud of debris that moments before had been a Split Elephant.
Craddock considered himself more a mercenary than a pirate, though most governments didn't see things exactly his way. He had led his group through the lean times when all they had was a handful of small combat ships. Now they had about as stable a situation as an outlaw band could hope for. Their base was made of a patchwork of transport hulls, but it was solid. They had a pretty good understanding with the Teladi government and the Nividium Mining and Manufacturing Company, which had their headquarters in the adjacent sector. Craddock's crew passed through the Teladi sectors unchallenged and their sector was isolated from a universe of problems since that was the only access. Then one of his contacts at the Teladi shipyard had put him in contact with the most lucrative contract he had ever had; better than he had ever heard of, or even imagined.
From the outset Patrick Henry had been a generous sponsor for Craddock's crew, and he had asked very little in return. For the first time Henry's Scabbard transports had loaded up with mercenaries for an operation, and it had ended like this before they even left the docks. Craddock checked his phase pistol; fully charged, and made sure his knives were all in place. He doubted that Henry would try to kill him outright, but assumed the man would be mad enough.
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I had scorched the Elephant with ion disruptors, dodging fire from its considerable array of weapons until they nearly all burned out in the storm of charged particles. I had managed throughout to avoid colliding with the ship, which would have destroyed it since its shields were down. I had been called every foul thing I had heard in a lifetime in military service and learned some new ones that I will have to get someone to translate for me from the original Split.
Eventually I had worn out the target, and called for my transports to deliver the boarding parties that would give me control of a station transporter, a vital piece in my plans. Keeping their shields down with intermittent fire, I moved the Centaur into a position I thought was needed, covering the transports just in case the Split managed to get some of their weapons working. They apparently had one gun left. A pulse beam emitter which they fired on me with. And the laser towers around Craddock's base opened fire on her and destroyed my Elephant before the transports had even cleared the docks.
Apparently my Centaur is listed as a friendly in their standing orders and they fired to protect me, which I suppose I should take as a compliment. If it weren't for the fact that I need a station transporter, and basically I need it right now, it would be a lot easier. Craddock offered to cut earlobes off the guys who were on duty in the laser towers and have them dried on a string for me, but I didn't see much point in it.
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I was in my office at Grains, pretending to work but mostly looking out the viewport. Elysium of Light is a beautiful sector, and I never get tired of the view. Seeing the orderly progression of wheat shipments coming and going was also soothing. My other businesses are doing better than they were, but none run as smoothly as this one. Endy walked in with a bottle of Argon Whiskey.
"You look like you could use a shot of this. What's biting you?" I raised one eyebrow. "Marika says you've got ships and pilots just idling, which we all know isn't like you. Your mysterious friend Mahi Ma leaves messages for you every time the communications department turns around, but you aren't answering them, which we all know isn't like you. Heck, Jerren Rana says he's thinking about letting some factory starve just to see if you yell at him about missing deals, but he's afraid you won't notice."
I groaned. "You, Marika, Jerren; who else is in this 'we all' that's worrying about me?"
"Well, Botany Bob probably would be worrying, but all he ever worries about is the wheat."
We both laughed. 'Botany' Bob Braks was a biologist that we hired to improve growth rates. We gave him an office that he apparently never uses, and had wondered about his apartment, speculating that he actually slept out in the grow pods somewhere. "He has a job to do and doesn't have time to worry about me. Speaking of having a job to do..." I gave him my best stern look.
"Everything is running smoothly. I have experts of every needed sort to keep it that way. I'm the boss and being the boss entitles me to waste my time worrying about you. On the other hand, you're my boss, so if you have something that isn't running smoothly you could just tell me to fix it and then you could worry about your friends, or whatever."
"Got a station transporter in your back pocket?" I asked.
"Uh, no. Is that the problem? Why not just hire one? That guy in OmLy loves working for you."
"Yeah he does, but not enough to fly to Legend's Home for me. He might try, come to that, but he'd never make it without going the long way around and I don't have time for that."
"What's in Legend's Home?"
"A trading station shell. They don't make them in OmLy any more. OTG has one in every sector in the region and the shipyard determined there was no more market."
"What are you going to do with a trading station?"
"Trade in all the wares I'm not already trading; tech goods, cloth, ship fittings. Plus Mikal Poler is going to move Revolution into it and open a broad spectrum of other restaurants and clubs, make it the recreation destination for the region. The plan is to create such a destination resort that we draw from planetside. The plan was. Poler has a deadline and I'm not going to make it. I had a line on a station transporter, but it fell through." I didn't add, spectacularly, but I thought it.
"You could just buy one."
"Yeah, with the cred I was going to use to buy the station."
Endy sat with his hands clasped, two fingers sticking up, which he tapped against his teeth. After a few minutes he said "I don't have a station transporter in my back pocket, but I might have a trading station." I looked at him with the 'you have lost your mind' look. He looked back and grinned. "We need about a million credits for operating capital, and we have over nine million in the account. MTMS is about the same last I heard from Ninu. Jarren and Endy probably have around seven at WLPC and they don't need much operating capital since they have way too much inventory anyway. Even the cattle ranch probably has a lot more than they really need."
"It's not like that's all my money. I have partners, remember? One of them looks a lot like you, matter of fact."
"Grains could disburse eight million, four for you and four for me. Do that at every business you own and you collect about twelve million."
"I dunno if you've priced trading stations lately, but I can't buy one for twelve million."
"Well, I'd have four million in cash. I'd buy in if you wanted a partner. After all, your idea made me the four million in the first place, so it seems like a good risk."
Which is how we ended up merging all my businesses into Omicron Lyrae Regional Trading Corporation, with all my partners on the board of directors and Endy Jerrigen as chief executive. ---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
In true 'not a DiD' spirit I tried more than once to capture the dratted elephant...then picked the failure I thought made the best plot element. Watching the Elephant explode under laser tower fire after an hour of scorching it with ion d fire I just had to laugh, so I hope everyone else does too.
Truthfully I wasn't really ready but had written myself into a corner and didn't think I could leave the irritable Split idling out in the unknown any longer. So no hammers, no flails, less than a full compliment of marines and not much skill with boarding combined for having to buy a Mammoth. Fortunes of war.
The rest of the day has been consumed with restructuring all my businesses in the region and sorting through my mountain of captured, bought used, and otherwise cluttering the landscape ships. Probably one of those technical interludes coming if anyone is interested in the details of controlling all trade across the region.
Last edited by Timsup2nothin on Fri, 27. Sep 13, 04:01, edited 1 time in total.
delstars wrote:My only complaint is that you can't write them fast enough. Oh and you called the Q a corvette, not a Frigate.
Fixed...the Q thing...the writing faster thing comes and goes. Gotta remember a 'chapter' is a game day...which since I never SETA is 24 hours of actual time playing, plus however much writing. That's why I took to breaking the chapters into parts...too long between posts that would be too big.
For anyone who didn't catch it earlier, I'm writing a 'game day' as something like a quarter, or maybe a year...so if someone eats dinner that doesn't mean they won't do it again in the same 'game day/chapter'.
I suggest hooking up an IV bag for sustenance, playing for 22 hours, and writing for 2. A rich and independent wife might help too. Sleep isn't a necessity, surely.
Captain Aron Danna stood rigidly at attention. He silently vowed that he would not whither under the glares of the review board. As the five flag officers filed into the room his knees started to weaken and he was afraid they were visibly shaking. But the creases in his trousers were stock still, holding a perfect line.
Admiral Ban Dorin cleared his throat. "We have reviewed all the tapes, as well as testimony from your surviving crew...the survivors who were not involved in the hijacking that is. It is the finding of this review board that you were correct in ordering the ship abandoned. There was no reason to question the reported reactor breach when it came from your engineering officer of the watch, and the evacuation was the correct response.
"However, your failure to initiate the self destruct sequence prior to leaving the bridge is a severe breach of procedure, and has led to a Cerberus frigate being captured by forces unknown. While the reported core failure would have been expected to destroy the ship, this case has demonstrated the necessity for that procedure and the consequences of failing to follow that procedure.
"It is the judgement of this board that you be disqualified from command assignment, effective immediately, and reduced to the rank of commander with commensurate reduction in pay and benefits. You are to report to Liaison Logistics Command, Kingdom End, for reassignment."
Aron Danna stood mute. Stripped of command. Looking at the rest of his career spent in a cramped office on some Boron military base, needing a pressure suit to get to his quarters at the end of the day. He would have to give it a year. One year of good performance so this disaster wouldn't be the last thing in his service record, then he could resign with some hope of getting a decent job.
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After the disgraced captain left the room Admiral Ban Dorin turned to another member of the panel. "Any word on the ship?"
"The hijackers apparently had some sort of transport staged. There was a rendez-vous, where they stripped the ship of all useable equipment. We know this because Teladi security got scans of the ship when it appeared in their space."
"Teladi space? Were they involved?"
"We have no indication of that, sir. The ship appeared in Grand Exchange, transiting from west to north. No indication that it was ever in Belt of Aguilar, so it apparently jumped in there."
"Headed north. Xenon space."
"Yes, sir. We can't assume anything, but it appears they were using the Xenon to dispose of any evidence they may have left on the ship. Our security forces arrived in sector just before the Cerberus breached the gate into Xenon space."
"They followed?"
"Yes. There was a large Xenon force on the other side of the gate, multiple capital ships. The security force was headed by a corvette. No sign of the Cerberus and the pursuit was discontinued."
"Any wreckage?"
"They didn't get any recorded, sir, but they didn't have much time in sector. Their scans are far from complete."
"Freight scans from Teladi security. Did they show any jump fuel aboard? I want to know that ship didn't pop through the gate and just jump off somewhere."
"Residual fuel, sir. Two sectors, at most. We have assets in Split space. They didn't come out there. No indication they returned to Teladi space. If they jumped the only jump they could have made would be deeper into Xenon space."
The Admiral sighed. "Could have met a refueler, but that would take precision timing with a Xenon fleet defending their gate. List her as lost, presumed destroyed."
The members of the review board filed solemnly out of the room.
I'm anticipating the opening of some very expensive champagne, or the X variant of it being opened at the beginning of the next chapter. Either that or some space fuel...
Now I asume this is just artestic license of what happend to the ship? In game you'd have no reason to try jump from place to place after capping something
Song Of Obsidian wrote:Looks like another unique take on a common and therefore bland game event. An abandoned ship recovery mission, most likely. Yay for artistic license.
Glad it turned out more interesting than 'claimed the ship and hung out in grand exchange til the cops came then jumped to the hub', which would be pretty bland.
Song Of Obsidian wrote:Kinda feels like cheating when you take advantage of the dumb AI police that way. Making up a story to justify it goes a long way
Note the artistic license that made the AI police smart enough to not just fly blindly to their deaths.
I was in my cabin aboard the Centaur, which was bound for the strange transit hub in Xenon space. Mahi Ma had demanded to see me, a pretty extra-ordinary lapse of courtesy for a Boron. I couldn't blame him, really. He was trapped deep in Xenon space alone on a strange artifact, and my performance in getting him the components he needed had been desultory at best. The six cases of microchips in the cargo bay were a meager peace offering. I hoped they would settle him down, but I doubted it. Having seen his skills I knew he could cause me no end of problems, but I had no idea of the problems I already had.
Mak Branna gave me my first clue. His voice boomed out of the shipwide announcing circuit. "Owner to the bridge!" There was a tone in his voice that was as strange as his use of the shipwide. He had not just commed my cabin, and despite his use of the word 'owner' there was no doubt that he was giving an order. The constant vibration in the deck died away. The ship was coasting to a stop.
I emerged from the lift with a clear view of Mak's broad back. His hands were clasped behind it, and I could see his knuckles were white. No one announced 'owner on the bridge'. None of the crew looked my way. The strange interior of the hub spanned across the main viewport, the huge docking facility prominently centered. Slightly off center, but equally prominent, stood a frigate. Argon. Cerberus class. It appeared that we had been found.
"Military?" I said as I stepped alongside Mak. There are large corporations that field frigates, even larger ships, in their defense forces, so there were other possibilities, but military seemed most likely.
"No," Mak replied, his voice cold. "Computer registers her as yours."
First step on the long slide into the shit. To make matters worse Mahi Ma's grating voice burst from the comm unit, demanding to know why we were not docking.
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I knew nothing about the frigate. Nothing more than anyone else on the ship anyway. The frigate that had disappeared after being hijacked with the collusion of some part of her crew had been all over the news, and anyone who wasn't a complete simpleton had to guess this was her.
Mak snarled "Take her in, helmsman" and stalked into the captain's ready room. I followed. He sat behind the desk, which he had never done with me in the room before. We always sat at the table in the corner, avoiding the thorny issue of authority that obviously exists between captain and owner. Apparently that thorny issue had been resolved for the moment in Mak's mind, and not in my favor.
"Look, Mak, I have no idea how that ship got here. I can think of a couple ways it could have gotten registered to me." Marika and Mahi Ma sprang immediately to my mind, and undoubtedly to his as well.
"That is an Argon frigate," he said quietly. "Stolen from the Argon defense fleet," he added unnecessarily. "Being registered to you would probably be sufficient to get you convicted of piracy, and me not ordering this ship back to Argon space and turning you over to the authorities would probably be sufficient to convict me as well. So I need you to convince me that you really don't know how it got here. Bear in mind that here isn't exactly an everyday place that any old hijacker might have dropped it off. You've sworn everyone to secrecy about the place, and I've kept a tight watch on everyone in my crew. Ban Hanes on the Magnetar has done the same. Have you told anyone else?"
"The obvious. Mahi Ma knows." I didn't think that was the problem. The Boron was angry, and could very well follow through on his threat to enlist other help to get what he needs, but if he had already done it he wouldn't be giving me ultimatums. There was also no obvious connection between enlisting other Boron to acquire microchips and an Argon defense force frigate. I saw little point in revealing the other person who knew about this place, even though in the pit of my stomach I knew he could very well be responsible.
Mak shook his head. "There's someone else, and you know they're probably at fault. You're no pirate. I've been to war with you, and I'm not going to throw you to the wolves now, but there's a very short fuse here. You need to get this figured out."
I nodded. "As soon as I'm done with Mahi Ma we need to get back to headquarters. I know that will make it hard for you to keep a lid on this, but that's where I have to be to find answers." He nodded in turn, and I went back to my cabin.
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As expected six cases of microchips were totally inadequate to pacify Mahi Ma. Short of shooting him there wasn't really any way I could stop him from using other resources to supply his needs. I considered shooting him. Instead I looked at my current circumstances and decided that he was just as likely to use the power of this artifact wisely as I was, and probably more so. I effectively handed over the transit hub to Bala Gi Enterprises. Since Bala Gi had in fact found it that was probably an appropriate resolution in the eye of the interstellar courts anyway, and I had a pressing desire to avoid those courts.
In the course of our conversation I also found out what Mahi Ma knew about the Cerberus, which was nothing much. It had appeared in the sector on autopilot, programmed to dock. It was registered to me when it arrived, which he found odd. He had overridden the autopilot, since there was no capital ship port available, and left it idle. The ship had a full compliment of shield generators, and was parked so far off the track followed by Xenon ships passing through that it had not attracted their attention.
I transported aboard the eerily quiet ship and made my way to the shield bays. Damage was extensive. Obviously the ship had been stripped of equipment in a hurry. In the shield bays the damage had been just as hastily repaired, allowing replacement of the shield generators. Brand new. Serial numbers carefully removed. Where would I look for a crew that could do this sort of repairs discretely?
In my mind I could hear his voice clearly. "I know a guy..." The only other person I had told about this place was Endy Jerrigan.
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The Centaur settled into the docking clamps. The transfer pod swung out and attached to the port. I left the ship, and Mak immediately requested clearance to depart. There was a limit on how much the crew could be asked to keep to themselves if they were allowed off the ship. I had very little time to sort things out to Mak's satisfaction, and I had to come up with answers that would be acceptable to the crew as well.
The docking bay was bustling. Omicron Lyrae Regional Trading Corporation had clearly succeeded as far as its entry into the tech shipping market went. I passed from the artificial gravity field of the freight docks into the transition ring, where centripetal force took over. Here too success was clear. Shops and restaurants filled the spaces, which had risen rapidly to the top lease values in the region. Many of them were subsidiaries of OLRTC, but even more of them were not. And all of them had high paid employees who needed places to live. Property leases more than paid for the operating costs of the massive station.
I crossed another transition ring into the artificial gravity of the small craft hanger bays. Here the parking problem of Revolution was solved. Cargo compression technology allowed for docking virtually unlimited numbers of runabouts and taxis. Poler's club, installed in a chamber at the station's central axis, was still the top spot. It had become a favorite of executives from all the tech industries in the region's central sectors, which we were much closer to than he had been, and was still the place to go for the movers and shakers of OmLy society, who as often as not arrived in Poler's luxurious jump drive assisted passenger transport. He had added a sister ship, which plied its way from Jonferco headquarters bringing some of Argon's wealthiest industrialists and their highly paid top management.
At the central plaza of the hanger level a port irised open and I entered a rotating chamber with no gravity field. Gripping the conveniently placed rail I oriented myself as gravity generators engaged and drew me to the 'floor' of the lift, overcoming its acceleration as it moved to the lobby. I knew another lift chamber slid into place immediately, either delivering passengers from the great rotating wing or standing by for the next entrant.
I exited into the gravity assisted lobby. Centripetal force this close to the center would be barely sufficient for getting around, but the lobby allowed for ease of transition from one half of the wing to the other as well as the hanger decks. Suites in the wing were the most highly prized addresses in the region, growing more valuable the further from the center. In the outermost ends centripetal force provided a comfortable eighty percent of standard planetary gravity and freed the wealthy denizens from the tiny pulsations that could always be felt with gravity generators. To enter the lift that delivered me to OLRTC's complex of offices and apartments required pressing my palm to a scanner. Riding high on the wave of our lease rates we kept the outermost quarter of one end of the wing to ourselves.
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The highest level held two office suites flanking a huge conference room. All featured a tremendous view of the sector starscape rotating outside. The largest office belonged to the chairman of the board; me. The other belonged to the chief executive; Endy. I considered summoning him to my office, but I went directly to his instead. He could see immediately that I wasn't happy, and accurately guessed why.
"Before you say anything you should read this," he said, and slid a datapad across his desk.
I picked up the pad and slumped into a chair. An emergency resolution, signed by every board member except me, directing Endy to improve security for all company assets. With every signature but mine the directive counted as full weight, since I own only forty percent of the company.
"You weren't available," he said. "Not uncommon, you have to admit."
I did have to admit that. I generally thought of it as giving Endy a pretty free rein. "Endy, this doesn't mean you can pirate ships from the regional defense fleet. In fact that reduces our defenses, it doesn't improve them."
"We didn't pirate anything. In fact we bought the ship from a salvager, specifically so we could return it to the defense fleet...not that the defense fleet does an adequate job in any way."
"If we bought it to return it, why is it floating in the transit hub?"
"I had to send it somewhere. You're the one with connections. I'm counting on you to make sure we at least get reimbursed, though a reward would be better. I couldn't very well park it at the OmLy shipyard."
"So who stole it in the first place?"
"A pirate clan called the Yaki. They operate out of Paranid space, or somewhere near Paranid space anyway. They got hung out to dry when the Argon government made peace with the Paranid. They sent a message along with the ship. Sort of their way of filing a grievance, I guess."
"Great."
I delivered the Yaki 'message' to the authorities. I also got Endy's message loud and clear. I'm not a freebooted fighter pilot any more, I'm chairman of the board of a major corporation. Endy is the chief executive and it has required him to grow up. It's time I did too. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Obviously Patrick Henry's tale is done. It is in my nature, at this point, to fish for someone asking me to continue the story, but I'm not going to do that...fish, that is. I will continue the story and the game...just not as Patrick Henry.
From a game perspective OmLy Regional Trading Corp is completely self contained. All the regional businesses remit to the trading center, which has freighters trading everything else. A bit of management every now and then, mostly revolving around spending their money to expand their defense forces and occasionally their facilities, and they become just another part of the background. And Patrick Henry needs to be involved in that, and keeping an eye on Endy, not traipsing around the universe. And since the chairman of the board isn't technically the 'boss' of other board members he has other reasons to hang around.
But somewhere in the universe there is someone with an interesting story to tell. A story made all the more interesting by being isolated from the thundering revenue stream of OLRTC which can effectively wash away most obstacles. OLRTC is, in fact, the better mousetrap...and it's built.
Think of this as a fresh game start in an X-universe with an extra corporation.
Song Of Obsidian wrote:Well...huh. I never saw that coming. Used to the whole 'the story never ends' thing, I guess.
Very much curious about where you're headed now, and looking forward to seeing what you come up with for a new starting point.
Yea, I thought the same way.
But a real story, with a start and an end, rather than just a playthrough with a story build around it, is very refreshing
Can't wait until chapter 6. By the way, is chapter 5 done or is there going to be a part three? You never said anything after ending the part/chapter.
