First off, I'm aware that there are those of you whose view of what an “acceptable” fan fiction is is quite limited by certain rules, so I'd like to point out a few things before we go any further.
1. I am using a few mods/scripts, so if that's not your particular brand of whiskey there are plenty of vanilla stories around. I'll include a list of installed mods/scripts at the bottom of this post.
2. I've also made a few small changes in the T-files. Once again, if that's not your thing you're not being made to read this.
3. This is not a DiD in the technical sense of the term, in that if my character is killed for any reason or by any means, that's it. End of story. Well that's not the case here. If my character dies because the auto-pilot crashes him into an asteroid, I'm going to reload. However, if I die due to an error on my part the story's over. I simply can't bring myself to end a story which I believe is decent just because the AI is r*******.
4. I'm using the cheat package to set up the starting scenario. There is no gamestart which completely fits the back-story I have in mind, so I must create one. I'll also have to use it to implement a few ideas I have in mind later on down the road, assuming the story makes it that far, and assuming I decide to implement those ideas.
5. I'm not interested in what some people may believe is or is not fair from a gameplay point of view, I'm only interested in writing an entertaining story. So please try and keep fairness comments to a minimum.
So there you have it. If you're still interested, here's where it starts.
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My character is a former assassin who has made a few friends, but many enemies within the pirate community during his past exploits. This is mainly due to the fact that pirates are the primary targets for assassination. He had begun to amass a decent sum of money and a small fleet when his ranks were infiltrated by a hacker under the employ of, you guessed it, the pirates.
His funds were liquidated, his assets liberated, and his central database corrupted. As a result, his knowledge of the universe is now limited to what he knows from his dealings in the past, and he is now considered neutral to all races and has lost his reputation as a skilled combatant.
He now sits in Aladna Hill, moments after the incident, in his only remaining ship. It's late and he's drunk, tired, angry, and well armed. He may only have one ship left, but it's a capable one, and he's a capable pilot.
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Mod/scripts:
CODEA
MEFOS
Military/Personnel Transport
Pirate Guild
ADS
Hangarmod
Improved Boarding
Board Station
Improved Races
Weapons Quickswap
Gamestart: Bankrupt Assassin
[TC] Enemy of the Clans (DiD, sort of)
Moderators: TheElf, Moderators for English X Forum
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Mr. Stubb
- Posts: 62
- Joined: Sun, 1. May 11, 21:26
Sabotage
Date and time: 768-05-01 00:01
“WHAT IN THE HELL'S GOING ON?!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs.
“S-sir?” My navigator and I were alone on the bridge of my flagship, a Centaur-class corvette painted from bow to stern with pirate markings and her name printed in vicious letters on port and starboard: Anunnaki. Not much of a flagship, one might say, but it was the largest one I'd ever owned so the title fit. My navigator, a meek little bastard by the name of Jako Claassen, had stayed on the bridge with me while the rest of the crew slept to see to it that I didn't run the ship into a jumpgate in my inebriated state. Now, I imagine, he was regretting it.
“Don't 'sir' me, you sissified little map-jockey! WHY CAN'T I COMMUNICATE WITH MY SHIPS?!”
“I-I don't know sir, I-” he stammered.
“DAMNIT! Wake Mr. Radney!” He scrambled to the door of bridge, but didn't seem to be moving fast enough to meet my approval. I chucked my half-drained bottle of whiskey at his head and watched as it whizzed past his ear and smashed against the bulkhead, sending potent whiskey and shards of glass flying in all directions. As he darted through the door and out of sight, I turned to the ship's computer for a double-take.
No ships, no money, not even a bloody map. As far the computer was concerned, the only things that existed were the ship and anything within scanner range. I tried to stop and think for a moment, there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for all this...but I was drunk. Very drunk. So I threw the datapad across the bridge and just as I did, the door slid open and my first mate took a solid hunk of technology straight to the groin.
“Oomf...damnit, Jack!” he yelled as he doubled over. The incident served as a bit of comic relief and temporarily lightened my mood. I chuckled and voiced my apology.
“Sorry, Will. Bring me that datapad and you'll understand my frustration.” He scooped it up and limped to me in a slightly bow-legged sort of way. My navigator slipped by him and made his way to his post, careful to avoid eye contact.
“We have a problem. I was about to comm one of the freighters to bring in some jump fuel, but according to the computer we have no ships. Not only that, but we also have no money, no map, and all race relations and combat rankings have been set to neutral. I figured you may be able to help me figure out what the HELL, since I'm in no shape to do much thinking at the moment.” Though I can still speak just fine, drunk or not. It's a point of pride, actually.
“Well...I can only think of one thing that could cause all this...” he said, after looking over the information, or lack thereof, on the datapad.
“...well?” I asked.
“Sabotage.” he said. The word hung in the air for a moment as we took it in. Sabotage. Someone had deliberately done this to me, someone had taken my ships, the small fortune I had worked so hard for, and wiped my database of all sector coordinates.
“Son of a...” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my nerves. It was barely working. “What can we do about it?”
“Nothing.” he replied, shaking his head and looking at the floor.
“What the hell do you mean 'nothing?!' Do some damn...anti-sabotage or something and get me my shit back!” I yelled. This man had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, and he's one of the most intelligent people I know. If he said nothing could be done, then nothing could be done. But I had had a lot of whiskey, I was tired, and now on top of it all, I was broke and without my fleet, small though it may have been. I was livid.
“There's nothing we can do, Jack. It's gone.” he almost whispered it.
“AAAARGH!” I tore the pad from his hands and smashed it against the floor, stomping it into as many pieces as I could before I got tired. I then turned to my navigator, who seemed to be concentrating awfully hard on his map readout, despite there being nothing on it.
“YOU! CLEAN THAT SHIT UP!” I shouted, and turned away to punch the controls for the door and storm off to my quarters, kicking, punching, and smashing everything in my path that seemed as if it would break easier than my knuckles.
768-05-01 00:11
It seemed as if I'd just dozed off when the sound of the alarm klaxon yanked me from the dream world.
“All hands to battle stations, tangos inbound.” Hmmm...I guess my pirate friends weren't quite done with me yet. I didn't have much to do in the way of getting dressed, seeing as I'd passed out with my clothes and boots on, so I sat up, shook the haze from my eyes, and made my way through the wreckage in the halls to the bridge.
“What do we got?” I asked my first mate, Mr. William Radney.
“Nothing serious. A centaur and a few scouts, but the Boreas has the centaur tied down near the south gate.” I don't even know why they sounded the alarm. I'd already raised enough hell for the evening, however, so I saw no need to be anything less than civil.
“While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my command of this vessel, Will, I hardly think three scouts is any reason to wake me, not to mention the entire crew. Maintain position and let the gunners take care of them. After that's done, dock at the military outpost, get some rest, and wake me at 06:00.”
“Aye, captain.” he replied. I then made my way back to my quarters, with a bit less racket this time, for some much needed shut-eye.
Date and time: 768-05-01 00:01
“WHAT IN THE HELL'S GOING ON?!” I bellowed at the top of my lungs.
“S-sir?” My navigator and I were alone on the bridge of my flagship, a Centaur-class corvette painted from bow to stern with pirate markings and her name printed in vicious letters on port and starboard: Anunnaki. Not much of a flagship, one might say, but it was the largest one I'd ever owned so the title fit. My navigator, a meek little bastard by the name of Jako Claassen, had stayed on the bridge with me while the rest of the crew slept to see to it that I didn't run the ship into a jumpgate in my inebriated state. Now, I imagine, he was regretting it.
“Don't 'sir' me, you sissified little map-jockey! WHY CAN'T I COMMUNICATE WITH MY SHIPS?!”
“I-I don't know sir, I-” he stammered.
“DAMNIT! Wake Mr. Radney!” He scrambled to the door of bridge, but didn't seem to be moving fast enough to meet my approval. I chucked my half-drained bottle of whiskey at his head and watched as it whizzed past his ear and smashed against the bulkhead, sending potent whiskey and shards of glass flying in all directions. As he darted through the door and out of sight, I turned to the ship's computer for a double-take.
No ships, no money, not even a bloody map. As far the computer was concerned, the only things that existed were the ship and anything within scanner range. I tried to stop and think for a moment, there had to be a perfectly logical explanation for all this...but I was drunk. Very drunk. So I threw the datapad across the bridge and just as I did, the door slid open and my first mate took a solid hunk of technology straight to the groin.
“Oomf...damnit, Jack!” he yelled as he doubled over. The incident served as a bit of comic relief and temporarily lightened my mood. I chuckled and voiced my apology.
“Sorry, Will. Bring me that datapad and you'll understand my frustration.” He scooped it up and limped to me in a slightly bow-legged sort of way. My navigator slipped by him and made his way to his post, careful to avoid eye contact.
“We have a problem. I was about to comm one of the freighters to bring in some jump fuel, but according to the computer we have no ships. Not only that, but we also have no money, no map, and all race relations and combat rankings have been set to neutral. I figured you may be able to help me figure out what the HELL, since I'm in no shape to do much thinking at the moment.” Though I can still speak just fine, drunk or not. It's a point of pride, actually.
“Well...I can only think of one thing that could cause all this...” he said, after looking over the information, or lack thereof, on the datapad.
“...well?” I asked.
“Sabotage.” he said. The word hung in the air for a moment as we took it in. Sabotage. Someone had deliberately done this to me, someone had taken my ships, the small fortune I had worked so hard for, and wiped my database of all sector coordinates.
“Son of a...” I took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, trying to calm my nerves. It was barely working. “What can we do about it?”
“Nothing.” he replied, shaking his head and looking at the floor.
“What the hell do you mean 'nothing?!' Do some damn...anti-sabotage or something and get me my shit back!” I yelled. This man had been my best friend for as long as I could remember, and he's one of the most intelligent people I know. If he said nothing could be done, then nothing could be done. But I had had a lot of whiskey, I was tired, and now on top of it all, I was broke and without my fleet, small though it may have been. I was livid.
“There's nothing we can do, Jack. It's gone.” he almost whispered it.
“AAAARGH!” I tore the pad from his hands and smashed it against the floor, stomping it into as many pieces as I could before I got tired. I then turned to my navigator, who seemed to be concentrating awfully hard on his map readout, despite there being nothing on it.
“YOU! CLEAN THAT SHIT UP!” I shouted, and turned away to punch the controls for the door and storm off to my quarters, kicking, punching, and smashing everything in my path that seemed as if it would break easier than my knuckles.
768-05-01 00:11
It seemed as if I'd just dozed off when the sound of the alarm klaxon yanked me from the dream world.
“All hands to battle stations, tangos inbound.” Hmmm...I guess my pirate friends weren't quite done with me yet. I didn't have much to do in the way of getting dressed, seeing as I'd passed out with my clothes and boots on, so I sat up, shook the haze from my eyes, and made my way through the wreckage in the halls to the bridge.
“What do we got?” I asked my first mate, Mr. William Radney.
“Nothing serious. A centaur and a few scouts, but the Boreas has the centaur tied down near the south gate.” I don't even know why they sounded the alarm. I'd already raised enough hell for the evening, however, so I saw no need to be anything less than civil.
“While I appreciate your acknowledgment of my command of this vessel, Will, I hardly think three scouts is any reason to wake me, not to mention the entire crew. Maintain position and let the gunners take care of them. After that's done, dock at the military outpost, get some rest, and wake me at 06:00.”
“Aye, captain.” he replied. I then made my way back to my quarters, with a bit less racket this time, for some much needed shut-eye.
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Mr. Stubb
- Posts: 62
- Joined: Sun, 1. May 11, 21:26
Maybe they're not all bad...
768-05-01 06:02
The door to my quarters had been chirping for the last few minutes, my wake up call no doubt. I had been doing my best to ignore it for the sake of that precious extra moment of rest. However, the chirping had stopped only to be replaced by an incessant beating, which was a bit harder to ignore.
“Wake the hell up Jack, we have a long day ahead of us.” There's only one man on the ship with the stones to speak to me in this way.
“Damnit, Will, I'll be up in a minute!” I said as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My head was pounding and my mouth was as dry as my bank account. I got up, got dressed, had a large glass of water for the hangover, a shot of whiskey for the headache, and headed up to the bridge.
“Have you all been filled in?” I asked the bridge crew. It consisted of a helmsman for when I wasn't piloting the ship myself, my soft-spoken navigator, a technician to monitor the ship's systems, a communications officer, and my first mate.
“Yes, sir.” They replied in a slightly somber tone.
“Well, from what I can tell there's no way to recover what was lost. From this point on we start from scratch. Almost. We still have the fastest corvette in the universe as far as I know, and we still know how to do what we do best.” I smiled, despite the mixture of anger and sadness I was feeling over loss of all I'd worked, or more specifically, killed for.
“Things are, however, going to be a bit different now. We need to make money, and we need to do it fast. Since I've lost my combat ranking we won't be getting any lucrative assassination opportunities anytime soon, so we'll have to take a different approach. Namely: piracy. And not the petty, attacking freighters and stealing their freight kind of piracy. True piracy. We have five capable marines on board and it's time to put them to work. We're going to steal some ships.”
They all had a slightly fearful expression on their faces. Assassination missions are one thing, but capturing ships is another entirely. An assassin needs only find their target, shoot the hell out of 'em, and get the hell out of dodge. A pirate, a true pirate, specifically one with a boarding transporter, must lower the target's shields without doing too much damage to the hull, and stay within transporter range while the marines are beamed aboard. This can be quite dangerous considering the fact that most of the vessels we'll be boarding will obviously be shooting back, and we'll be well within range of their guns.
“Sir,” my helmsman spoke up, “will you be expecting me to pilot the ship during these boarding operations?” Hell no, I thought. There's not a single man in the entire universe whom I would trust to pilot my ship in a potentially dangerous situation. But I can't allow my helmsman to think that he'll never be put into a position of responsibility.
“Possibly, Mr. Giorno, and if I do and you damage my ship, you'd better hope that we're killed. If not, death will be the least of your worries.” I held back a smile to the best of my abilities. I'm not sure if it was working or not, but I knew that no one would acknowledge it if it wasn't.
“Anymore questions? Alright then, let's get to work.” I said, and ordered Mr. Giorno to undock and head for the west gate leading to the sector Hatikvah's Faith. It was the nearest pirate sector and had many beyond it so it was obviously the best place to search for potential targets. I fished a joint from my cigarette case and lit it, savoring the taste and the soothing effect which would help me keep a level head in the face of the possibly impending danger.
768-05-01 06:25
Hatikvah's Faith didn't have much to offer in the way of money-making opportunities. There was a Teladi military taskforce in the sector lead by a heavy Osprey, which would've probably sold for a pretty penny, but I like the Teladi. They have no problem buying stolen ships, and I don't have to worry about them getting their panties in a wad if I happen to be in possession of illegal goods.
While we were in the system, however, I decided to swing by the pirate anarchy port just to make my computer aware of its presence. As we were approaching scanner range my navigator informed me that there was a Deimos-class frigate and a few bombers approaching the port with the obvious intention of making it disappear. The first course of action that came to mind was to let it destroy the port, since I'm not too happy with the pirates at the moment, and then destroy the taskforce myself, since I absolutely despise the Paranid.
As we neared the impending battle, however, I noticed something odd. A second pirate base which was, strangely enough, not flagging hostile. This took me a bit by surprise considering the fact that, as far as I know, there isn't a single pirate in the universe who doesn't hate my guts. Moreover, it wasn't registering as a pirate base.
“Pirate Guild Outpost?” I asked no one in particular.
I was curious, and I couldn't learn much about them if some trigger happy Paranid blew the outpost to hell.
“Mr. Radney, prepare the typhoon missiles. I'll mark the targets, you make them go away.” I said. We only had forty two left on board and no way to get more at moment, but they were my only chance of winning this fight.
“Aye, captain. I'm ready when you are.”
“Fire one apiece at each of the bombers and ten at the frigate.” That would get the bombers out of the way and take a decent chunk out of the Deimos' shields. Then I'd see if I could save some missiles and just finish him off with my Ion Shard Railguns.
I kept my eye on the monitor as the missiles closed on their targets. Typhoons are probably my favorite missile of all the different types I've used. They're very versatile, and they fire in a swarm so that even if the enemy manages to shoot down one or two they'll still get the brunt of the impact.
I watched as one, two, and finally, all three of the bombers disintegrated into spacedust and the frigate took a heavy barrage of high-powered warheads. His shields were down around thirty percent so I hopped into the pilot's seat, gunned the engine and hit the turbo booster, sending us hurtling toward him at three hundred and sixty seven meters per second. My plan was to charge him head on and hit him with everything I had while dodging the incoming fire, then fall in behind him pound him while using my strafe drive do dodge his retaliatory bursts of high energy plasma.
The plan worked, to an extent. He wasn't doing much damage to my ship, but I wasn't doing much to his either. I was shooting the hell out of him, but a corvette just doesn't have the firepower to take down a frigate quick enough for my tastes. So I broke off and headed out of firing range for a slight change of tactics. Returning my helmsman to the pilot's seat, I took up my rightful place in the captain's chair and turned to my first mate.
“Mr. Radney, prepare the firestorm torpedoes.” The firestorm is one of the most powerful missiles that I'm aware of. It packs a nuclear warhead and is capable of doing considerable damage to whomever is unfortunate enough to come into contact with it.
“Firestorms are in the tubes and ready to fire on your mark.” He said.
“Alright, fire one and load up the typhoons. I want to make sure that torpedo makes it through his defenses.” I only had a few left on board and I'd hate to waste a perfectly good nuke.
“Aye, captain. Torpedo away, typhoons loaded and ready to fire on your mark.” He replied.
Timing is everything when it comes to covering a slow missile with a swarm of fast ones. Fire them too early and they reach the target before the torpedo, subjecting it to destruction by missile defense turrets before it can do its job. Fire them too late and the torpedo arrives before the swarm, subjecting it once again to said destruction. Time it just right, and they arrive at the same time. The turrets are busy targeting the other missiles so the torpedo can get through and do what it does best.
So, judging the distance between my ship and the target and factoring in the speed of both missiles, I waited roughly five seconds and gave the order to fire.
“Typhoons away, sir.” I watched the monitor as the missiles closed in.
My timing was just a hair off and the typhoons reached the target just before the torpedo. Unfortunately for the captain and crew, the gunners were a bit lax in their duties and it hit anyway. I smiled as the frigate went up in a massive explosion and my computer gave me the always welcome “You have been promoted.” I gave the bridge crew a commendation for their good work and instructed the helmsman to dock with the Pirate Guild outpost while I retreated to my quarters for a drink and a smoke.
768-05-01 06:56
Upon docking, my first course of action was to peruse the wares they had available. Basically the same thing you'd expect to find at any pirate station, only they actually had something in stock. In addition to that, they also had a decent selection of shields and ship upgrades to choose from. Of course, none of that really mattered seeing as I was broke and all. I did, however, sell the few spaceflies I'd captured a couple of days ago and got enough money for the crew and I to have a drink in the local pub.
As we entered I noticed that it was quite a bustling establishment. There were people playing cards, dice games, and a few were dancing to a catchy tune that sort of set the tone for the place. It was a bit difficult to breath with all the smoke and body odor, but aside from that it seemed like my kind of place.
The crew dispersed and Mr. Radney and I approached the bartender. I figured he'd have the low-down on everything going on around here, as he ends up speaking with everyone passing through.
“Two whiskeys, please. One straight-up for my 'manly' first mate here, and I'll have mine on the rocks.” I watched as he pulled a bottle from under the bar and poured our drinks.
“There ye are, son.” He said, sliding the drinks to us.
“Thank you, sir. You know, this is my first run-in with the pirate guild, and I have to say I like what I see thus far.” I said, gesturing to the crowd around us.
“Well ye ain't seen much yet, boy. Sure, the pubs are nice but that ain't what it's about.” He said.
“Well I can see that much already. A pirate base with a decent amount of wares in stock is somewhat of a rarity.”
“They's a reason fer that, son. Yer average pirate clan's only worried about gettin' enough booty fer booze and ganja. Sure, they's a few of 'em with the money fer a destroyer or two, but that's it. The guild's about erg'nization, ye see. We ain't juss lookin' for the next drink er the next toke, we's lookin' fer power and infl'ins. An' it seems teh me like the folks in command have a decent notion o' how teh get it." He said, with plenty of gesturing and body language to aid in getting his point across.
"Well," I said, "just how much power and influence have you managed to carve out so far?"
"We got outposts and bases all across the universe, boy. Hell, we even have our own shipyard. We ain't gotta steal ships to build a fleet, though we do that too. Like I said, young man, we's a bit mer er'ganized than yer average pirate clan."
"Is that right? Well, you know, I'm out of work at the moment. I don't suppose the guild needs any odd jobs done?" I asked.
"I couldn't tell ye, son. I'm naught but a lowly bartender. Ye might try speakin' with the local outpost commander. I 'magine he'd be be able teh give ye a lil' more information than I. I 'spec ye'd need teh get a bit o' reputation wit' 'em 'afore they'd be willin' teh offer ye some work though." Gotta love that uneducated accent.
"Very well. I'll see what I can do. I appreciate your willingness to speak so freely with me, sir, and I have a little something extra for you for your loose tongue." I said, transferring an extra few hundred hundred credit to him.
"Thank ye, son. Take care o' yerself now, ye seem like a perty good feller. I'd hate teh hear ye wound up vape'rized by some damn par'nid. Them holier than thou bastards. Not teh say I wouldn't mind if ye's killed some'n else, I juss don't like 'em.”
"I appreciate your kind words, and I share your opinion." With that, I finished my drink, stood up, beckoned my crew, and made my way back to the Anunnaki. Time for some work, and to bolster my reputation with this pirate guild. It seems as though they may have something to offer.
768-05-01 06:02
The door to my quarters had been chirping for the last few minutes, my wake up call no doubt. I had been doing my best to ignore it for the sake of that precious extra moment of rest. However, the chirping had stopped only to be replaced by an incessant beating, which was a bit harder to ignore.
“Wake the hell up Jack, we have a long day ahead of us.” There's only one man on the ship with the stones to speak to me in this way.
“Damnit, Will, I'll be up in a minute!” I said as I sat up and rubbed the sleep from my eyes. My head was pounding and my mouth was as dry as my bank account. I got up, got dressed, had a large glass of water for the hangover, a shot of whiskey for the headache, and headed up to the bridge.
“Have you all been filled in?” I asked the bridge crew. It consisted of a helmsman for when I wasn't piloting the ship myself, my soft-spoken navigator, a technician to monitor the ship's systems, a communications officer, and my first mate.
“Yes, sir.” They replied in a slightly somber tone.
“Well, from what I can tell there's no way to recover what was lost. From this point on we start from scratch. Almost. We still have the fastest corvette in the universe as far as I know, and we still know how to do what we do best.” I smiled, despite the mixture of anger and sadness I was feeling over loss of all I'd worked, or more specifically, killed for.
“Things are, however, going to be a bit different now. We need to make money, and we need to do it fast. Since I've lost my combat ranking we won't be getting any lucrative assassination opportunities anytime soon, so we'll have to take a different approach. Namely: piracy. And not the petty, attacking freighters and stealing their freight kind of piracy. True piracy. We have five capable marines on board and it's time to put them to work. We're going to steal some ships.”
They all had a slightly fearful expression on their faces. Assassination missions are one thing, but capturing ships is another entirely. An assassin needs only find their target, shoot the hell out of 'em, and get the hell out of dodge. A pirate, a true pirate, specifically one with a boarding transporter, must lower the target's shields without doing too much damage to the hull, and stay within transporter range while the marines are beamed aboard. This can be quite dangerous considering the fact that most of the vessels we'll be boarding will obviously be shooting back, and we'll be well within range of their guns.
“Sir,” my helmsman spoke up, “will you be expecting me to pilot the ship during these boarding operations?” Hell no, I thought. There's not a single man in the entire universe whom I would trust to pilot my ship in a potentially dangerous situation. But I can't allow my helmsman to think that he'll never be put into a position of responsibility.
“Possibly, Mr. Giorno, and if I do and you damage my ship, you'd better hope that we're killed. If not, death will be the least of your worries.” I held back a smile to the best of my abilities. I'm not sure if it was working or not, but I knew that no one would acknowledge it if it wasn't.
“Anymore questions? Alright then, let's get to work.” I said, and ordered Mr. Giorno to undock and head for the west gate leading to the sector Hatikvah's Faith. It was the nearest pirate sector and had many beyond it so it was obviously the best place to search for potential targets. I fished a joint from my cigarette case and lit it, savoring the taste and the soothing effect which would help me keep a level head in the face of the possibly impending danger.
768-05-01 06:25
Hatikvah's Faith didn't have much to offer in the way of money-making opportunities. There was a Teladi military taskforce in the sector lead by a heavy Osprey, which would've probably sold for a pretty penny, but I like the Teladi. They have no problem buying stolen ships, and I don't have to worry about them getting their panties in a wad if I happen to be in possession of illegal goods.
While we were in the system, however, I decided to swing by the pirate anarchy port just to make my computer aware of its presence. As we were approaching scanner range my navigator informed me that there was a Deimos-class frigate and a few bombers approaching the port with the obvious intention of making it disappear. The first course of action that came to mind was to let it destroy the port, since I'm not too happy with the pirates at the moment, and then destroy the taskforce myself, since I absolutely despise the Paranid.
As we neared the impending battle, however, I noticed something odd. A second pirate base which was, strangely enough, not flagging hostile. This took me a bit by surprise considering the fact that, as far as I know, there isn't a single pirate in the universe who doesn't hate my guts. Moreover, it wasn't registering as a pirate base.
“Pirate Guild Outpost?” I asked no one in particular.
I was curious, and I couldn't learn much about them if some trigger happy Paranid blew the outpost to hell.
“Mr. Radney, prepare the typhoon missiles. I'll mark the targets, you make them go away.” I said. We only had forty two left on board and no way to get more at moment, but they were my only chance of winning this fight.
“Aye, captain. I'm ready when you are.”
“Fire one apiece at each of the bombers and ten at the frigate.” That would get the bombers out of the way and take a decent chunk out of the Deimos' shields. Then I'd see if I could save some missiles and just finish him off with my Ion Shard Railguns.
I kept my eye on the monitor as the missiles closed on their targets. Typhoons are probably my favorite missile of all the different types I've used. They're very versatile, and they fire in a swarm so that even if the enemy manages to shoot down one or two they'll still get the brunt of the impact.
I watched as one, two, and finally, all three of the bombers disintegrated into spacedust and the frigate took a heavy barrage of high-powered warheads. His shields were down around thirty percent so I hopped into the pilot's seat, gunned the engine and hit the turbo booster, sending us hurtling toward him at three hundred and sixty seven meters per second. My plan was to charge him head on and hit him with everything I had while dodging the incoming fire, then fall in behind him pound him while using my strafe drive do dodge his retaliatory bursts of high energy plasma.
The plan worked, to an extent. He wasn't doing much damage to my ship, but I wasn't doing much to his either. I was shooting the hell out of him, but a corvette just doesn't have the firepower to take down a frigate quick enough for my tastes. So I broke off and headed out of firing range for a slight change of tactics. Returning my helmsman to the pilot's seat, I took up my rightful place in the captain's chair and turned to my first mate.
“Mr. Radney, prepare the firestorm torpedoes.” The firestorm is one of the most powerful missiles that I'm aware of. It packs a nuclear warhead and is capable of doing considerable damage to whomever is unfortunate enough to come into contact with it.
“Firestorms are in the tubes and ready to fire on your mark.” He said.
“Alright, fire one and load up the typhoons. I want to make sure that torpedo makes it through his defenses.” I only had a few left on board and I'd hate to waste a perfectly good nuke.
“Aye, captain. Torpedo away, typhoons loaded and ready to fire on your mark.” He replied.
Timing is everything when it comes to covering a slow missile with a swarm of fast ones. Fire them too early and they reach the target before the torpedo, subjecting it to destruction by missile defense turrets before it can do its job. Fire them too late and the torpedo arrives before the swarm, subjecting it once again to said destruction. Time it just right, and they arrive at the same time. The turrets are busy targeting the other missiles so the torpedo can get through and do what it does best.
So, judging the distance between my ship and the target and factoring in the speed of both missiles, I waited roughly five seconds and gave the order to fire.
“Typhoons away, sir.” I watched the monitor as the missiles closed in.
My timing was just a hair off and the typhoons reached the target just before the torpedo. Unfortunately for the captain and crew, the gunners were a bit lax in their duties and it hit anyway. I smiled as the frigate went up in a massive explosion and my computer gave me the always welcome “You have been promoted.” I gave the bridge crew a commendation for their good work and instructed the helmsman to dock with the Pirate Guild outpost while I retreated to my quarters for a drink and a smoke.
768-05-01 06:56
Upon docking, my first course of action was to peruse the wares they had available. Basically the same thing you'd expect to find at any pirate station, only they actually had something in stock. In addition to that, they also had a decent selection of shields and ship upgrades to choose from. Of course, none of that really mattered seeing as I was broke and all. I did, however, sell the few spaceflies I'd captured a couple of days ago and got enough money for the crew and I to have a drink in the local pub.
As we entered I noticed that it was quite a bustling establishment. There were people playing cards, dice games, and a few were dancing to a catchy tune that sort of set the tone for the place. It was a bit difficult to breath with all the smoke and body odor, but aside from that it seemed like my kind of place.
The crew dispersed and Mr. Radney and I approached the bartender. I figured he'd have the low-down on everything going on around here, as he ends up speaking with everyone passing through.
“Two whiskeys, please. One straight-up for my 'manly' first mate here, and I'll have mine on the rocks.” I watched as he pulled a bottle from under the bar and poured our drinks.
“There ye are, son.” He said, sliding the drinks to us.
“Thank you, sir. You know, this is my first run-in with the pirate guild, and I have to say I like what I see thus far.” I said, gesturing to the crowd around us.
“Well ye ain't seen much yet, boy. Sure, the pubs are nice but that ain't what it's about.” He said.
“Well I can see that much already. A pirate base with a decent amount of wares in stock is somewhat of a rarity.”
“They's a reason fer that, son. Yer average pirate clan's only worried about gettin' enough booty fer booze and ganja. Sure, they's a few of 'em with the money fer a destroyer or two, but that's it. The guild's about erg'nization, ye see. We ain't juss lookin' for the next drink er the next toke, we's lookin' fer power and infl'ins. An' it seems teh me like the folks in command have a decent notion o' how teh get it." He said, with plenty of gesturing and body language to aid in getting his point across.
"Well," I said, "just how much power and influence have you managed to carve out so far?"
"We got outposts and bases all across the universe, boy. Hell, we even have our own shipyard. We ain't gotta steal ships to build a fleet, though we do that too. Like I said, young man, we's a bit mer er'ganized than yer average pirate clan."
"Is that right? Well, you know, I'm out of work at the moment. I don't suppose the guild needs any odd jobs done?" I asked.
"I couldn't tell ye, son. I'm naught but a lowly bartender. Ye might try speakin' with the local outpost commander. I 'magine he'd be be able teh give ye a lil' more information than I. I 'spec ye'd need teh get a bit o' reputation wit' 'em 'afore they'd be willin' teh offer ye some work though." Gotta love that uneducated accent.
"Very well. I'll see what I can do. I appreciate your willingness to speak so freely with me, sir, and I have a little something extra for you for your loose tongue." I said, transferring an extra few hundred hundred credit to him.
"Thank ye, son. Take care o' yerself now, ye seem like a perty good feller. I'd hate teh hear ye wound up vape'rized by some damn par'nid. Them holier than thou bastards. Not teh say I wouldn't mind if ye's killed some'n else, I juss don't like 'em.”
"I appreciate your kind words, and I share your opinion." With that, I finished my drink, stood up, beckoned my crew, and made my way back to the Anunnaki. Time for some work, and to bolster my reputation with this pirate guild. It seems as though they may have something to offer.
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GalenEvil
- Posts: 175
- Joined: Wed, 22. Jun 11, 21:17
Interesting read so far. I haven't used the pirate guild before and looking forward to seeing how it all turns out. Bad break with getting your assets stolen. I know that's just backstory but it makes me wonder just how po'd. I'd be if my ships were all ganked, seized, repo'd, etc. Good luck on this story!
--GalenEvil
--GalenEvil
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Mr. Stubb
- Posts: 62
- Joined: Sun, 1. May 11, 21:26
Thank you for the feedback. I have one for installment ready and another in the works so I'll probably post one later on this evening. I'd like to stay at least one installment ahead of what I've posted so that if I don't have time to write at some point I still have something to post. Once again, thanks for the feedback and I hope you continue to follow.
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Mr. Stubb
- Posts: 62
- Joined: Sun, 1. May 11, 21:26
The grand scheme
768-05-01 07:10
“Alright, everyone to your posts, and I trust that you didn't drink too much. I'll need you on your toes, just in case.” I said as we descended through the hatch and back into my ship.
My plan was to map the local pirate sectors. I may be less than friendly with them to say the least, but their sectors were the best place to make a buck, and seeing as I was in fairly close proximity to some of my favorite stomping grounds, I figured what better way to occupy my time than to reacquaint my computer with them?
We headed west from Hatikvah's Faith to Nopilios' Memorial. Once again I was extremely displeased to find that the only ships worth capturing belonged to two of the only three races I give a damn about. One was an Argon Centaur with a decent amount of fighters flanking it, and the other was was a Split Dragon running 'round all by his lonesome.
I wouldn't really call myself racist, well with the exception of the Paranid, more like logical. The Argon, Split, and Teladi are the only three races which have something to offer me. I mean, I could get by with just being in the good graces of the Argon and Teladi, but I have quite a bit of respect for the Split. They're good warriors, strong, fearless, and capable. And they make some pretty nice ships. One in particular, the Tiger. It a frigate, and a damn nice one at that. Plenty of speed and firepower, as all Split ships have, but it's still well shielded and has a decent cargobay. Not to mention its ferocious and aggressive beauty.
Anyway, I digress. The other two races, namely the Boron and the Paranid, are fair game as far as I'm concerned. Neither have much to offer me, and both are a bit strange. I hate the Paranid because they're f-in' stupid. They consider anyone without three eyes to be “unholy and inferior,” yet for an inferior being I seem to be quite capable of killing them, and have done so on a number of occasions, whether it be for business or pleasure. And the Boron are just some of the strangest bastards I've ever laid eyes on. They're completely aquatic, and bear a slight resemblance to a sea cow. They don't even have a regular vocal form of communication. They use a series of clicks and whistles, similar to dolphins on Earth, in addition to the couple hundred pheromones they secrete into the water around them. In short, neither have anything to offer me to speak of, and they're both just...weird. So I suppose you could call me a racist, as well as a selfish bastard.
Anyway, with Nopilios' Memorial offering naught but slim pickings I once again took the west gate and entered Danna's Chance. For some reason I never quite liked the place. There's never much traffic, and it's only occupied by a few pirate stations, which, of course, would never even consider the possibility of being anything less than overtly hostile to me.
Upon entering the sector I noticed a pirate Caravel, a military transport craft capable of docking four fighters. I didn't pay it much mind because I couldn't imagine them trying to attack me, but that's exactly what they did.
“Sir, the Caravel has just launched its wing of fighters. They're closing fast and we have missiles inbound.” Declared Mr. Radney.
“Very well. Instruct the gunners to assume missile defense tactics. Let Mr. Giorno handle the fighters. I'm not in the mood for taking up the pilot's seat and besides, the man needs a bit of combat experience. I may need to depend on him in the future.” I said, remaining comfortably seated in my captain's chair.
I short order our aggressors were dispatched. Mr. Giorno didn't do too badly, he did make some mistakes but that's to be expected. After all was said and done, the universe was rid of a few more pirates and we were headed north to Brennan's triumph.
Upon entering the sector, I noticed another Pirate Guild outpost located in the center of the system. Apparently that old bartender was right, these guys seem to be spreading fast. I briefly considered stopping by, but there really wasn't a point in it. I'd basically learned all I needed to know back in Hatikvah's Faith.
“Mr. Giorno, take us into Split Fire. If we find nothing of note there, we'll proceed south into Paranid space and see if we can't stir up some trouble. I'm sure we can find something worth stealing there.” I said. Then I turned to my first mate and beckoned him to follow me to my ready room just off the bridge.
I may be broke, but I still have plenty of supplies on board due to my previous financial situation. So upon entering my ready room, I opened a small cupboard on the wall behind my desk where I kept some of my personal effects. I drew a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and a cigarette case which also doubled as a lighter and an ashtray. I motioned for Mr. Radney to take a seat, filled our glasses, and offered him a joint.
“So, Will. I'm aware of the fact that the men talk to you. By that I mean, of course, that they talk to you about things they'd rather not discuss with me. I'm a bit curious as to what they've had to say about our current situation.” I said, meeting his eye. He held my gaze for a moment and then his eyes drifted downward in thought. After a moment met my eye again and spoke up.
“Well, Jack, they know we're close, and that we've been friends for a long time, so I know they don't tell me everything. But I do spent a lot more time around them than you do, so I've been able to pick up a few things.” He paused for a moment for a drink and a toke and continued.
“The general concern seems to be, as one might guess, our financial situation. The crew respects you and recognizes your ability as a captain and a pilot, and they're as loyal as the crew of an assassin's ship could be, but they also don't intend to work for free. They're worried that they may have to go a while without pay.” Once again, he paused for a quick drink and continued.
“I have no doubt that they'd be willing to work without pay for a while, but there are many other ships out there who need a crew, and who have a captain with the assets to pay for one. All I'm doing, basically, is telling you what you already know. We need to generate some revenue.” I love the fact that Will is as well spoken as I and is equally, if not more, intelligent. I can't have a conversation with any other crew member without having to stop and reiterate, explain the meaning of a word, or use my general tactic of just dumbing-down my dialogue to avoid all of that.
“I can't say I'm surprised, I suppose I just needed to hear it. Also, it's nice to just sit and have a drink and a smoke with a friend from time to time.” He nodded and finished draining his glass. I poured myself a few more fingers and passed him the bottle. “I don't think the financial problems will be of much of a concern by the end of the day. My previous employment was lucrative and, really, not all that dangerous, considering the fact that we'd almost had it down to a science. But it couldn't possibly own up to what I have in mind now.” I said, stubbing out my joint and reaching for another one. I stopped myself just before grabbing it. Best to keep from getting too ripped and losing track of what I was about to divulge.
“I gave the crew a vague description of my plans for the near future, but in light of recent events I believe something a bit more ambitious is in order.” I stopped to take a small sip of the sweet nectar that is Argonian whiskey.
“I hope you don't intend to end the conversation there, you've obviously peaked my interest.” He said, lighting another joint. He's always been a bit more of a smoker, whereas I prefer a nice, stout drink.
“Of course not, Will. In short, I intend to go to war with the pirates. They've screwed me out of something that I've spent quite a lot of time build. I plan to use this ship to set my plan in motion. Of course, I have no other choice, really, but this is probably the best ship in the universe for what I have in mind.”
“What exactly do you have in mind? Going to war with the pirates in a corvette, albeit it a very capable one, is simply illogical. We'd have to be loaded up to the eyeballs with powerful missiles, which we have no means of acquiring in the necessary quantity. I assume you have a plan, and I assume said plan is a good one, I'm just ready for you to cut to the chase.” He said, with a slight chuckle.
“And so cut to the chase I will. I'm going to gallivant about the universe capturing corvettes until I have the funds for a decent frigate, preferably a Tiger, and then that's where the fun begins. Once we have a ship capable of launching twenty marines, we can capture damn near any ship in the universe. We will acquire the funds for a missile production complex and a decent fleet and raise hell with the pirate clans until I feel I'm satisfied. I haven't thought much past that, but we'll go from there.” I paused for another sip of whiskey and continued. “I was perfectly content with my previous life. Killin' folks, makin' money, and drinkin' myself silly, but that little incident last night seemed to have flipped a switch in my mind. I'm feeling very...ambitious. And I don't intend to let my new found vigor go to waste. If I can manage to follow through with this plan we may just find ourselves a force to be reckoned with.”
He took a minute to let it sink in. Will isn't the type to speak without thoroughly contemplating what he's going to say. Many people mistake it for hesitation, almost as if he's trying to lie or manipulate, which can be the case as he's quite good at both, but I recognize it as intelligence and a desire to get his point across in a way that is both understandable, and well worded.
“I must say I like this change of direction. We were really going nowhere doing what we were doing. We were getting by, and more, but we were still nothing but a ragtag fleet of assassins basically making enough money to party and slowly build a fleet to make our job a bit easier. We need something more than that, Jack, we need to carve out a name for ourselves.” He had a bit of zeal in his voice.
“My thoughts exactly. Of course, we must first find a decent feeding ground, so to speak, and get back on our feet. As I said back on the bridge, if we have no luck in Split Fire, which I doubt we will, we're proceeding into Paranid space. Sure, we'll have some trouble with the military and police ships, but we'll cross that bridge once we reach it. I say we have ourselves a little trek through some Paranid sectors and capture as many corvettes as possible. Of course, there's the problem of getting our captures to a shipyard. We have a jumpdrive on board, so we can jump the first one to safety and meet up with it to get our drive back. Once we've sold the ship, we can by a small fighter to dock with the Anunnaki and keep an extra jumpdrive on it for future captures. We'll have to jump to Legend's Home to resupply after each boarding op, but we'll do what we must. If we don't have much luck in Paranid space, we'll set up a satellite network in the pirate sectors and monitor it for opportunities. Either way, the way I see it is: if we follow through with this plan correctly and efficiently, we should be on our way to revenge, power, and glory within the next few weeks. Maybe even sooner. Now, as my first mate and, more importantly, my friend, I'd like to hear what you have to say about all this.” I said, finishing my glass and filling it once again. I offered Will the bottle and he declined. Once again, he took a moment to think before replying.
“As I said before, I like where you're going with this. Your plan is extremely ambitious and, very likely, equally as dangerous. But with a leader like yourself at the head of it all, I think it just may work. I have only one suggestion though,” He said, stubbing out joint number two and lighting number three. I don't know how he keeps himself together.
“...and that is?”
“That we do a quick job or two for the local stations to get at least a few thousand credits in our pockets. It'll help with morale, let the crew know that you don't intend to make them labor for nothing.” The man had a point.
“A wise suggestion. I'm surprised I didn't think of it myself, actually. I hope you realize what a huge help you are around here, Will.” The whiskey was beginning to hit me. I was telling the truth, of course, but I generally try to keep sentimental talk to a minimum. It's not really my thing. “I couldn't uphold my image with the crew were it not for the guidance and wisdom you've offered me time and time again. Anyway, I believe it's time we cut this conversation short before I get all lovey-dovey.” Slightly questionable choice of words, but I didn't have my thesaurus on hand. And my mental one was becoming slightly impaired.
“Aye aye, sir Captain Stubb, sir.” He said in mock formality, with a sarcastic salute thrown in for good measure. He put out his joint, grabbed another for the road, and left the room with an almost visible trail of reefer stench following him out.
After he left I had another small glass of whiskey and ran through the details of my plan. Once I have a better ship and the funds for a missile complex I'd have to find a place to build it. Seeing as I've never been much of an entrepreneur, my knowledge as to what I'd need was quite limited. An energy loop, of course, as basically everything in the universe depends on it. That meant silicon mines, so I'd need an uninhabited sector with plenty of asteroids and, ideally, only one entry and exit. It'll still be a while before I'll need to concern myself with that, however, so hopefully I'll find a suitable system as I work my way up to that point.
Finishing my whiskey, I stowed the glasses, bottle, and cigarette case in my happy cabinet and made my way back onto the bridge.
“Status report?”
“Entering split fire now, sir. Bringing up the sector map on the main monitor.” Replied my navigator. He may be a bit of a wuss, but he's a good crewman.
“Well, what do you know,” I said, looking at the monitor. We'd found the Pirate Guild shipyard the old bartender told us about. Wouldn't do us much good without any money, but we now have a place to sell our captures, and it's close to Paranid space which will prove very convenient.
On another note, I also noticed a wing of pirate ships heading our direction. Whether they were making for the gate or attacking was unknown, and irrelevant.
“Sound the alarm, Mr. Radney, we've got company.” He hit the comm button to every compartment in the ship.
“Wake up ladies, we got some Charlies need killin'.” He said. He then loaded up the typhoons and waited for his next order.
I made a quick note of what we were up against. Five ships, a Blastclaw, three Novas, and a harrier. Nothing too significant, but I wouldn't trust Mr. Giorno with them.
“Move it on over.” I told him, taking the pilot's seat. No need to waste our precious few typhoons on a few fighters.
They were packing heat. Launching missiles left and right and strafing us with HEPT fire, they were actually draining my shields a quite a bit. But with my strafe drive, forward batteries of Ion Shard Railguns and HEPTs, and gunners wielding HEPTs, they didn't last very long.
“Alright, tell the gunners they can stand down.” I told Will, removing myself from the pilot's seat.
I once again took a look at the sector map. There were plenty of freighters, but no prey. Hell, I may end up hitting a few high-tech traders or weapons dealers as they sometimes have some useful cargo. But with no corvettes, and no freighters of the correct type and race in sector, I ordered Mr. Giorno to make for the south gate. I have reason to believe that the Paranid are going to hate me even more for within the next few hours.
768-05-01 07:10
“Alright, everyone to your posts, and I trust that you didn't drink too much. I'll need you on your toes, just in case.” I said as we descended through the hatch and back into my ship.
My plan was to map the local pirate sectors. I may be less than friendly with them to say the least, but their sectors were the best place to make a buck, and seeing as I was in fairly close proximity to some of my favorite stomping grounds, I figured what better way to occupy my time than to reacquaint my computer with them?
We headed west from Hatikvah's Faith to Nopilios' Memorial. Once again I was extremely displeased to find that the only ships worth capturing belonged to two of the only three races I give a damn about. One was an Argon Centaur with a decent amount of fighters flanking it, and the other was was a Split Dragon running 'round all by his lonesome.
I wouldn't really call myself racist, well with the exception of the Paranid, more like logical. The Argon, Split, and Teladi are the only three races which have something to offer me. I mean, I could get by with just being in the good graces of the Argon and Teladi, but I have quite a bit of respect for the Split. They're good warriors, strong, fearless, and capable. And they make some pretty nice ships. One in particular, the Tiger. It a frigate, and a damn nice one at that. Plenty of speed and firepower, as all Split ships have, but it's still well shielded and has a decent cargobay. Not to mention its ferocious and aggressive beauty.
Anyway, I digress. The other two races, namely the Boron and the Paranid, are fair game as far as I'm concerned. Neither have much to offer me, and both are a bit strange. I hate the Paranid because they're f-in' stupid. They consider anyone without three eyes to be “unholy and inferior,” yet for an inferior being I seem to be quite capable of killing them, and have done so on a number of occasions, whether it be for business or pleasure. And the Boron are just some of the strangest bastards I've ever laid eyes on. They're completely aquatic, and bear a slight resemblance to a sea cow. They don't even have a regular vocal form of communication. They use a series of clicks and whistles, similar to dolphins on Earth, in addition to the couple hundred pheromones they secrete into the water around them. In short, neither have anything to offer me to speak of, and they're both just...weird. So I suppose you could call me a racist, as well as a selfish bastard.
Anyway, with Nopilios' Memorial offering naught but slim pickings I once again took the west gate and entered Danna's Chance. For some reason I never quite liked the place. There's never much traffic, and it's only occupied by a few pirate stations, which, of course, would never even consider the possibility of being anything less than overtly hostile to me.
Upon entering the sector I noticed a pirate Caravel, a military transport craft capable of docking four fighters. I didn't pay it much mind because I couldn't imagine them trying to attack me, but that's exactly what they did.
“Sir, the Caravel has just launched its wing of fighters. They're closing fast and we have missiles inbound.” Declared Mr. Radney.
“Very well. Instruct the gunners to assume missile defense tactics. Let Mr. Giorno handle the fighters. I'm not in the mood for taking up the pilot's seat and besides, the man needs a bit of combat experience. I may need to depend on him in the future.” I said, remaining comfortably seated in my captain's chair.
I short order our aggressors were dispatched. Mr. Giorno didn't do too badly, he did make some mistakes but that's to be expected. After all was said and done, the universe was rid of a few more pirates and we were headed north to Brennan's triumph.
Upon entering the sector, I noticed another Pirate Guild outpost located in the center of the system. Apparently that old bartender was right, these guys seem to be spreading fast. I briefly considered stopping by, but there really wasn't a point in it. I'd basically learned all I needed to know back in Hatikvah's Faith.
“Mr. Giorno, take us into Split Fire. If we find nothing of note there, we'll proceed south into Paranid space and see if we can't stir up some trouble. I'm sure we can find something worth stealing there.” I said. Then I turned to my first mate and beckoned him to follow me to my ready room just off the bridge.
I may be broke, but I still have plenty of supplies on board due to my previous financial situation. So upon entering my ready room, I opened a small cupboard on the wall behind my desk where I kept some of my personal effects. I drew a bottle of whiskey, two glasses, and a cigarette case which also doubled as a lighter and an ashtray. I motioned for Mr. Radney to take a seat, filled our glasses, and offered him a joint.
“So, Will. I'm aware of the fact that the men talk to you. By that I mean, of course, that they talk to you about things they'd rather not discuss with me. I'm a bit curious as to what they've had to say about our current situation.” I said, meeting his eye. He held my gaze for a moment and then his eyes drifted downward in thought. After a moment met my eye again and spoke up.
“Well, Jack, they know we're close, and that we've been friends for a long time, so I know they don't tell me everything. But I do spent a lot more time around them than you do, so I've been able to pick up a few things.” He paused for a moment for a drink and a toke and continued.
“The general concern seems to be, as one might guess, our financial situation. The crew respects you and recognizes your ability as a captain and a pilot, and they're as loyal as the crew of an assassin's ship could be, but they also don't intend to work for free. They're worried that they may have to go a while without pay.” Once again, he paused for a quick drink and continued.
“I have no doubt that they'd be willing to work without pay for a while, but there are many other ships out there who need a crew, and who have a captain with the assets to pay for one. All I'm doing, basically, is telling you what you already know. We need to generate some revenue.” I love the fact that Will is as well spoken as I and is equally, if not more, intelligent. I can't have a conversation with any other crew member without having to stop and reiterate, explain the meaning of a word, or use my general tactic of just dumbing-down my dialogue to avoid all of that.
“I can't say I'm surprised, I suppose I just needed to hear it. Also, it's nice to just sit and have a drink and a smoke with a friend from time to time.” He nodded and finished draining his glass. I poured myself a few more fingers and passed him the bottle. “I don't think the financial problems will be of much of a concern by the end of the day. My previous employment was lucrative and, really, not all that dangerous, considering the fact that we'd almost had it down to a science. But it couldn't possibly own up to what I have in mind now.” I said, stubbing out my joint and reaching for another one. I stopped myself just before grabbing it. Best to keep from getting too ripped and losing track of what I was about to divulge.
“I gave the crew a vague description of my plans for the near future, but in light of recent events I believe something a bit more ambitious is in order.” I stopped to take a small sip of the sweet nectar that is Argonian whiskey.
“I hope you don't intend to end the conversation there, you've obviously peaked my interest.” He said, lighting another joint. He's always been a bit more of a smoker, whereas I prefer a nice, stout drink.
“Of course not, Will. In short, I intend to go to war with the pirates. They've screwed me out of something that I've spent quite a lot of time build. I plan to use this ship to set my plan in motion. Of course, I have no other choice, really, but this is probably the best ship in the universe for what I have in mind.”
“What exactly do you have in mind? Going to war with the pirates in a corvette, albeit it a very capable one, is simply illogical. We'd have to be loaded up to the eyeballs with powerful missiles, which we have no means of acquiring in the necessary quantity. I assume you have a plan, and I assume said plan is a good one, I'm just ready for you to cut to the chase.” He said, with a slight chuckle.
“And so cut to the chase I will. I'm going to gallivant about the universe capturing corvettes until I have the funds for a decent frigate, preferably a Tiger, and then that's where the fun begins. Once we have a ship capable of launching twenty marines, we can capture damn near any ship in the universe. We will acquire the funds for a missile production complex and a decent fleet and raise hell with the pirate clans until I feel I'm satisfied. I haven't thought much past that, but we'll go from there.” I paused for another sip of whiskey and continued. “I was perfectly content with my previous life. Killin' folks, makin' money, and drinkin' myself silly, but that little incident last night seemed to have flipped a switch in my mind. I'm feeling very...ambitious. And I don't intend to let my new found vigor go to waste. If I can manage to follow through with this plan we may just find ourselves a force to be reckoned with.”
He took a minute to let it sink in. Will isn't the type to speak without thoroughly contemplating what he's going to say. Many people mistake it for hesitation, almost as if he's trying to lie or manipulate, which can be the case as he's quite good at both, but I recognize it as intelligence and a desire to get his point across in a way that is both understandable, and well worded.
“I must say I like this change of direction. We were really going nowhere doing what we were doing. We were getting by, and more, but we were still nothing but a ragtag fleet of assassins basically making enough money to party and slowly build a fleet to make our job a bit easier. We need something more than that, Jack, we need to carve out a name for ourselves.” He had a bit of zeal in his voice.
“My thoughts exactly. Of course, we must first find a decent feeding ground, so to speak, and get back on our feet. As I said back on the bridge, if we have no luck in Split Fire, which I doubt we will, we're proceeding into Paranid space. Sure, we'll have some trouble with the military and police ships, but we'll cross that bridge once we reach it. I say we have ourselves a little trek through some Paranid sectors and capture as many corvettes as possible. Of course, there's the problem of getting our captures to a shipyard. We have a jumpdrive on board, so we can jump the first one to safety and meet up with it to get our drive back. Once we've sold the ship, we can by a small fighter to dock with the Anunnaki and keep an extra jumpdrive on it for future captures. We'll have to jump to Legend's Home to resupply after each boarding op, but we'll do what we must. If we don't have much luck in Paranid space, we'll set up a satellite network in the pirate sectors and monitor it for opportunities. Either way, the way I see it is: if we follow through with this plan correctly and efficiently, we should be on our way to revenge, power, and glory within the next few weeks. Maybe even sooner. Now, as my first mate and, more importantly, my friend, I'd like to hear what you have to say about all this.” I said, finishing my glass and filling it once again. I offered Will the bottle and he declined. Once again, he took a moment to think before replying.
“As I said before, I like where you're going with this. Your plan is extremely ambitious and, very likely, equally as dangerous. But with a leader like yourself at the head of it all, I think it just may work. I have only one suggestion though,” He said, stubbing out joint number two and lighting number three. I don't know how he keeps himself together.
“...and that is?”
“That we do a quick job or two for the local stations to get at least a few thousand credits in our pockets. It'll help with morale, let the crew know that you don't intend to make them labor for nothing.” The man had a point.
“A wise suggestion. I'm surprised I didn't think of it myself, actually. I hope you realize what a huge help you are around here, Will.” The whiskey was beginning to hit me. I was telling the truth, of course, but I generally try to keep sentimental talk to a minimum. It's not really my thing. “I couldn't uphold my image with the crew were it not for the guidance and wisdom you've offered me time and time again. Anyway, I believe it's time we cut this conversation short before I get all lovey-dovey.” Slightly questionable choice of words, but I didn't have my thesaurus on hand. And my mental one was becoming slightly impaired.
“Aye aye, sir Captain Stubb, sir.” He said in mock formality, with a sarcastic salute thrown in for good measure. He put out his joint, grabbed another for the road, and left the room with an almost visible trail of reefer stench following him out.
After he left I had another small glass of whiskey and ran through the details of my plan. Once I have a better ship and the funds for a missile complex I'd have to find a place to build it. Seeing as I've never been much of an entrepreneur, my knowledge as to what I'd need was quite limited. An energy loop, of course, as basically everything in the universe depends on it. That meant silicon mines, so I'd need an uninhabited sector with plenty of asteroids and, ideally, only one entry and exit. It'll still be a while before I'll need to concern myself with that, however, so hopefully I'll find a suitable system as I work my way up to that point.
Finishing my whiskey, I stowed the glasses, bottle, and cigarette case in my happy cabinet and made my way back onto the bridge.
“Status report?”
“Entering split fire now, sir. Bringing up the sector map on the main monitor.” Replied my navigator. He may be a bit of a wuss, but he's a good crewman.
“Well, what do you know,” I said, looking at the monitor. We'd found the Pirate Guild shipyard the old bartender told us about. Wouldn't do us much good without any money, but we now have a place to sell our captures, and it's close to Paranid space which will prove very convenient.
On another note, I also noticed a wing of pirate ships heading our direction. Whether they were making for the gate or attacking was unknown, and irrelevant.
“Sound the alarm, Mr. Radney, we've got company.” He hit the comm button to every compartment in the ship.
“Wake up ladies, we got some Charlies need killin'.” He said. He then loaded up the typhoons and waited for his next order.
I made a quick note of what we were up against. Five ships, a Blastclaw, three Novas, and a harrier. Nothing too significant, but I wouldn't trust Mr. Giorno with them.
“Move it on over.” I told him, taking the pilot's seat. No need to waste our precious few typhoons on a few fighters.
They were packing heat. Launching missiles left and right and strafing us with HEPT fire, they were actually draining my shields a quite a bit. But with my strafe drive, forward batteries of Ion Shard Railguns and HEPTs, and gunners wielding HEPTs, they didn't last very long.
“Alright, tell the gunners they can stand down.” I told Will, removing myself from the pilot's seat.
I once again took a look at the sector map. There were plenty of freighters, but no prey. Hell, I may end up hitting a few high-tech traders or weapons dealers as they sometimes have some useful cargo. But with no corvettes, and no freighters of the correct type and race in sector, I ordered Mr. Giorno to make for the south gate. I have reason to believe that the Paranid are going to hate me even more for within the next few hours.