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A new story. If you are offended by it in any way, if you feel I have used your name incorrectly or if you have any comments, please let me know and I will correct it. You can reach me here or on hortan.sigma@gmail.com
Enjoy:)
Enjoy:)
Chapter 1
A spacestation is a massively complex machine that is built to, among other things, support life in an extremely hostile environment. Other functionalities include manufacturing, recreation and, especially for the stations placed deep in grey space, defence. Like any complex machine it was designed to run smoothly while creating a steady output that in the case of the spacestation consisted of living conditions. Thus, when the lights inside the station blinked on and off randomly its inhabitants knew that something was ten shades of wrong. The high-pitched sound that came from the hub of the residency wheel did not help much either. When the first indicators had started, "Friendly Uncle Xi", the moon-faced ever-smiling official face of the Masters in charge of the station, appeared on every public terminal and tried to calm people. But soon enough even the public terminals started flickering and most of them died. This particular space station harboured some of the worst misfits of known space, the washed-up dreck of the spacelanes and the occasional black market trader and buyer. A common point for them was the apparent lack of any kind of moral fibre and an opportunistic streak that would make a piranha flinch and redden with embarrassment. As soon as the obvious signs of control failed, the inhabitants of the station went crazy and soon almost every sector reported rioting of some sort. Within a couple of hours the heavy stench of fear mixed with teargas, blood and gunpowder started to be oppressive even in sectors that had not participated in the riots. The air scrubbers had to work overtime to clean the air, and when they failed, the riots stopped slowly, not from a lack of thirst for mayhem but from a surplus of carbon dioxide.
###
Trulo Mithans had an idea of what was wrong. As a matter of fact, he had warned about this exact scenario about six standard Sol II months ago but to no avail. He looked up at the great curving walls of the massive Tokomak fusion reactor that was the very heart of the station, a heart that had undergone violent cardiac arrest merely hours ago. The auxiliary power generator was down as well and had been down for some time due to the lack of spare parts. The only power that was fed into the station right now was the stored Tera-joules siphoned from the giant capacitors that were used to charge the launch bays and when in use, the weapons systems of the station. That would not last long though. A space station was a notorious power hog, thus the need for the giant Tokomak style fusion power plant instead of the smaller fusion plants normally installed on ships.
Trulo sighed deeply, hefted the di-magnetic hydrospanner and continued to disassemble the main controls for the reactor. The lid came off and a smell of burnt plastic combined with a slight metallic scent assailed his nostrils, signs of a short-circuited control unit. He grabbed the fused and burned electronics and tossed the ungainly bundle onto the deck plates. He grabbed inside the control unit and pulled a small fused black circuit out of the unit and handed it to the thin man in the long obviously expensive leather coat and with the slick back black hair.
"There it is, Sir. The last control relay on the station."
Trulo stood back and wiped his hands inefficiently on his already heavily greased buttocks while the Xang Xi official inspected the failed component, the distaste obvious on his face at getting his fingers dirty.
"And why don't we have a spare part for this apparently essential piece of equipment?" he asked with a high-pitched voice that was at odds with the power he wielded as an official of Xang Xi.
Trulo was about to answer when the master engineer stopped him.
"Sir. We have asked ourselves that as well, Sir. We ordered a new one about a year ago, around the same time that we ordered spare parts for the auxiliary fusion plant, Sir. But the council refused the request due to," he unfolded a piece of crumpled paper, "ah yes, and I quote: The council has rejected the purchase of component XR-3200875f87 "Fuel Flow Regulator, heavy Tokomak". The item in question is deemed to be too expensive to keep in stock and as the expected life time is expected to be longer than three years we will take it into consideration in two years time. End quote. Sir"
The Xang Xi official didn't even bat an eyebrow at the apparent rebuke. He was used to the extreme cutthroat business of high level corporate boardrooms and was intimately aware of the problems of procurement. Especially since it was his name in the bottom of the paper the master engineer had just read from.
"And why didn't the equipment function as expected?"
"Because it has been running non-stop since the aux unit took a surge hit directly on the main power control unit."
"I see. The one that is Valent produced and that we couldn't get spare parts for?"
"Yes Sir. The same."
"Very well, we shall order a regulator immediately and have it shipped right away."
"Sir, we only have power for another three days. At that time we will have sucked everything out of the capacitors, Sir."
"Right. We'll just make sure it arrives before that happens Chief Migunfale. Carry on."
Trulo and the chief watched the Xang Xi official tug his already high-collared trenchcoat high around his ears and walk out of the machine room with slow steady steps. Trulo had found a filthy rag from his back pocket that he wiped his hands with slowly and methodically, not really getting grease off his fingers but merely distributing the filth in a uniform layer on his hands before grunting in the direction of the exit.
"Think the Gremlin will get the part in time?"
Most of the crew had long ago stopped seeing the upper level Xang Xi corporate executives as people and generally referred to them as gremlins instead due to their ability to appear everywhere it was inconvenient and never be around when they were needed. And naturally because they tended to cause disruption and disorder when they had been around. It was not something Chief Migunfale condoned, but he knew which battles to fight and this was not one of them. He slowly shook his head slowly before spitting a long brown stream of tobacco/saliva mix out onto the deck plates, wiping his lips and chin with his sleeve.
"I don't think they have considered the seriousness of the situation nor the consequence of what will happen in three days when Murphy has had his say."
Trulo grinned broadly at the mentions of Murphy, a name that was associated with the term, "if anything can go wrong, it will" and was hailed like a sort of patron saint among the crew.
"Want me to come up with something?"
The chief nodded and grabbed another wad of tobacco from the round container he produced from his pocket before answering. "Do we still have that cowling from the previous Tokomak?"
Trulo nodded.
"Right, start stringing it to the launch and docking bays. Lets see what we can do."
Trulo grinned as he realised what the chief wanted to do, made a mock salute with two greasy finger before turning towards the maintenance crew. They had loads of work to do.
###
The Dau Shipping's Exchange was the cornerstone of just about all trade that moved to and from UIT space. Originally set up to facilitate easy co-ordination between tradeship owners and merchants that wanted goods shipped, it had grown into a vast auction house that matched goods, prices, risk estimates and availability to allocate contracts almost without human interference. In this case, the contract, stating a demand for delivery of a single item, a Valent built Tokomak class fusion reactor fuel flow regulator, needed within two days, standard shipping price and limited risk (estimated by buyer), was picked up by a Behemoth-flying trader who was flying as third ship in a Ineubis controlled convoy through grey space. Since the item in demand as well as the other items shipped in the convoy was deemed as low risk, only minimum security was requested. The convoy started launching nine hours after the request had been filed, sixteen hours after the initial power outs at Daltas Hold. The departure was noted at the DSE and the contract was flagged as "in progress".
That was, however, not the only place the departure was noted. As the ships were being loaded, a young man clad in loose fitting brown pants, an old style bomber leather and fleece jacket with a black raven mark on the chest and heavy leather boots was leaning against the bulkhead of the local Nova Cafe, slowly sipping a cup of their special extra dark caffeine enhanced Verasi Koffee. His brown hair and grey-blue eyes were the definition of just about everyone and if it wasn't for the pale white skin that served as canvas for the red stripe of a scar on his upper right lip, he would be your complete Mr. Blend-into-the-crowd. Just across from where he was standing was the read-out screen of all in and out going traffic, courtesy of Nova Cafe and originally designed for the traders as they would pop in for a cuppa and maybe a delicious Sedina Chocolate covered scone, and he had been scanning it for the last hour waiting for the right composition and end destination. Enough tradeships that it would be worthwhile and the destination would have to involve the ships going through the Latos O-12 wormhole to Sedina. Like this convoy that was launching right now. He finished the koffee just as the last items on the last cargo ship was loaded, tossed the empty container into a waste recycler and walked without haste towards his own ship, a slightly battered but fully functional Corvus Greyhound. He launched for Sedina D-14 on maximum speed. He had a posse he needed to gather.
A spacestation is a massively complex machine that is built to, among other things, support life in an extremely hostile environment. Other functionalities include manufacturing, recreation and, especially for the stations placed deep in grey space, defence. Like any complex machine it was designed to run smoothly while creating a steady output that in the case of the spacestation consisted of living conditions. Thus, when the lights inside the station blinked on and off randomly its inhabitants knew that something was ten shades of wrong. The high-pitched sound that came from the hub of the residency wheel did not help much either. When the first indicators had started, "Friendly Uncle Xi", the moon-faced ever-smiling official face of the Masters in charge of the station, appeared on every public terminal and tried to calm people. But soon enough even the public terminals started flickering and most of them died. This particular space station harboured some of the worst misfits of known space, the washed-up dreck of the spacelanes and the occasional black market trader and buyer. A common point for them was the apparent lack of any kind of moral fibre and an opportunistic streak that would make a piranha flinch and redden with embarrassment. As soon as the obvious signs of control failed, the inhabitants of the station went crazy and soon almost every sector reported rioting of some sort. Within a couple of hours the heavy stench of fear mixed with teargas, blood and gunpowder started to be oppressive even in sectors that had not participated in the riots. The air scrubbers had to work overtime to clean the air, and when they failed, the riots stopped slowly, not from a lack of thirst for mayhem but from a surplus of carbon dioxide.
###
Trulo Mithans had an idea of what was wrong. As a matter of fact, he had warned about this exact scenario about six standard Sol II months ago but to no avail. He looked up at the great curving walls of the massive Tokomak fusion reactor that was the very heart of the station, a heart that had undergone violent cardiac arrest merely hours ago. The auxiliary power generator was down as well and had been down for some time due to the lack of spare parts. The only power that was fed into the station right now was the stored Tera-joules siphoned from the giant capacitors that were used to charge the launch bays and when in use, the weapons systems of the station. That would not last long though. A space station was a notorious power hog, thus the need for the giant Tokomak style fusion power plant instead of the smaller fusion plants normally installed on ships.
Trulo sighed deeply, hefted the di-magnetic hydrospanner and continued to disassemble the main controls for the reactor. The lid came off and a smell of burnt plastic combined with a slight metallic scent assailed his nostrils, signs of a short-circuited control unit. He grabbed the fused and burned electronics and tossed the ungainly bundle onto the deck plates. He grabbed inside the control unit and pulled a small fused black circuit out of the unit and handed it to the thin man in the long obviously expensive leather coat and with the slick back black hair.
"There it is, Sir. The last control relay on the station."
Trulo stood back and wiped his hands inefficiently on his already heavily greased buttocks while the Xang Xi official inspected the failed component, the distaste obvious on his face at getting his fingers dirty.
"And why don't we have a spare part for this apparently essential piece of equipment?" he asked with a high-pitched voice that was at odds with the power he wielded as an official of Xang Xi.
Trulo was about to answer when the master engineer stopped him.
"Sir. We have asked ourselves that as well, Sir. We ordered a new one about a year ago, around the same time that we ordered spare parts for the auxiliary fusion plant, Sir. But the council refused the request due to," he unfolded a piece of crumpled paper, "ah yes, and I quote: The council has rejected the purchase of component XR-3200875f87 "Fuel Flow Regulator, heavy Tokomak". The item in question is deemed to be too expensive to keep in stock and as the expected life time is expected to be longer than three years we will take it into consideration in two years time. End quote. Sir"
The Xang Xi official didn't even bat an eyebrow at the apparent rebuke. He was used to the extreme cutthroat business of high level corporate boardrooms and was intimately aware of the problems of procurement. Especially since it was his name in the bottom of the paper the master engineer had just read from.
"And why didn't the equipment function as expected?"
"Because it has been running non-stop since the aux unit took a surge hit directly on the main power control unit."
"I see. The one that is Valent produced and that we couldn't get spare parts for?"
"Yes Sir. The same."
"Very well, we shall order a regulator immediately and have it shipped right away."
"Sir, we only have power for another three days. At that time we will have sucked everything out of the capacitors, Sir."
"Right. We'll just make sure it arrives before that happens Chief Migunfale. Carry on."
Trulo and the chief watched the Xang Xi official tug his already high-collared trenchcoat high around his ears and walk out of the machine room with slow steady steps. Trulo had found a filthy rag from his back pocket that he wiped his hands with slowly and methodically, not really getting grease off his fingers but merely distributing the filth in a uniform layer on his hands before grunting in the direction of the exit.
"Think the Gremlin will get the part in time?"
Most of the crew had long ago stopped seeing the upper level Xang Xi corporate executives as people and generally referred to them as gremlins instead due to their ability to appear everywhere it was inconvenient and never be around when they were needed. And naturally because they tended to cause disruption and disorder when they had been around. It was not something Chief Migunfale condoned, but he knew which battles to fight and this was not one of them. He slowly shook his head slowly before spitting a long brown stream of tobacco/saliva mix out onto the deck plates, wiping his lips and chin with his sleeve.
"I don't think they have considered the seriousness of the situation nor the consequence of what will happen in three days when Murphy has had his say."
Trulo grinned broadly at the mentions of Murphy, a name that was associated with the term, "if anything can go wrong, it will" and was hailed like a sort of patron saint among the crew.
"Want me to come up with something?"
The chief nodded and grabbed another wad of tobacco from the round container he produced from his pocket before answering. "Do we still have that cowling from the previous Tokomak?"
Trulo nodded.
"Right, start stringing it to the launch and docking bays. Lets see what we can do."
Trulo grinned as he realised what the chief wanted to do, made a mock salute with two greasy finger before turning towards the maintenance crew. They had loads of work to do.
###
The Dau Shipping's Exchange was the cornerstone of just about all trade that moved to and from UIT space. Originally set up to facilitate easy co-ordination between tradeship owners and merchants that wanted goods shipped, it had grown into a vast auction house that matched goods, prices, risk estimates and availability to allocate contracts almost without human interference. In this case, the contract, stating a demand for delivery of a single item, a Valent built Tokomak class fusion reactor fuel flow regulator, needed within two days, standard shipping price and limited risk (estimated by buyer), was picked up by a Behemoth-flying trader who was flying as third ship in a Ineubis controlled convoy through grey space. Since the item in demand as well as the other items shipped in the convoy was deemed as low risk, only minimum security was requested. The convoy started launching nine hours after the request had been filed, sixteen hours after the initial power outs at Daltas Hold. The departure was noted at the DSE and the contract was flagged as "in progress".
That was, however, not the only place the departure was noted. As the ships were being loaded, a young man clad in loose fitting brown pants, an old style bomber leather and fleece jacket with a black raven mark on the chest and heavy leather boots was leaning against the bulkhead of the local Nova Cafe, slowly sipping a cup of their special extra dark caffeine enhanced Verasi Koffee. His brown hair and grey-blue eyes were the definition of just about everyone and if it wasn't for the pale white skin that served as canvas for the red stripe of a scar on his upper right lip, he would be your complete Mr. Blend-into-the-crowd. Just across from where he was standing was the read-out screen of all in and out going traffic, courtesy of Nova Cafe and originally designed for the traders as they would pop in for a cuppa and maybe a delicious Sedina Chocolate covered scone, and he had been scanning it for the last hour waiting for the right composition and end destination. Enough tradeships that it would be worthwhile and the destination would have to involve the ships going through the Latos O-12 wormhole to Sedina. Like this convoy that was launching right now. He finished the koffee just as the last items on the last cargo ship was loaded, tossed the empty container into a waste recycler and walked without haste towards his own ship, a slightly battered but fully functional Corvus Greyhound. He launched for Sedina D-14 on maximum speed. He had a posse he needed to gather.
I have a feeling I'm going to like this one.
The ancient miner pours a large dram and looks forward to a good yarn...
This looks promising.
Feel free to involve the eternally under-funded Union Peacekeeping Corps in the inevitable upcoming fiasco if you deem it appropriate. =^)
Feel free to involve the eternally under-funded Union Peacekeeping Corps in the inevitable upcoming fiasco if you deem it appropriate. =^)
For perspective does this fit into the chronology of your other stories?
Bah! And just when I'd promised myself I'd spend less time on the forums ;-)
Bah! And just when I'd promised myself I'd spend less time on the forums ;-)
/me can't wait.
Yes Fluffy, this is a continuation of the saga that takes place roughly after A Rose...
Time is always a hard mistress, so the chronology has had to take some hits. I know, Einstein would roll over and all that but writer's liberty for ya.
And naturally UPK is there, underfunded and undergunned as always:)
Time is always a hard mistress, so the chronology has had to take some hits. I know, Einstein would roll over and all that but writer's liberty for ya.
And naturally UPK is there, underfunded and undergunned as always:)
Can't wait!
Looking forward to more!
Chapter 2
He was not alone in being interested in the convoy. Slowly twisting along the axis of his ship, Ironstar, member of the TGFT, responded to the call for escort ships for the trip to Sedina. The minimum security flag was an indicator that the payout for escorting wouldn't be that good but he was going that way anyway. He thumbed the turbo slightly to bring his Vulture Mk III into line with the exiting tradeships and received the full mission package as the commander of the security detail accepted his offer. Great, a steady 55 m/s for the entire flight, easily within regular speed of his ship. Ironstar leaned back in his seat and grabbed the small metal flask from the holder to the left of his throttle control, unscrewed the golden lid and brought the flask to his lips without a single drop spilling, a feat in itself in the zero gravity, and swallowed a mouthful of the golden liquid inside; Helio Mists, almost a required vice of TGFT members. He replaced the flask and found his place in the rear of the convoy.
The convoy passed through the wormhole to Azek without incident, not that any was expected. The sheer amount of gunturrets ensured that not only was the wormhole sector free from the hive but also from even the most persistent pirate or wayward nationalist. The security lead received ion storm information from the Azek storm control centre and shared it with the rest of the flight. No hindrances were detected and the convoy jumped directly to the Latos wormhole interface, the last safe passage on the way. From then on the convoy was only protected by the escorts. Ironstar was pretty confident though, most pirates didn't attack a well defended voy as this one, especially one that included a full member of TGFT. Still, he was there to defend the traders and that was an assignment never to be taken lightly. A quick scan of the instruments showed all green except for the persistent amber light that indicated only partial operational functionality of his life support system. He grinned at that though. Back in Dau a couple of weeks ago he had rushed to his ship and had slipped on the edge of the canopy. The bottle of Helio Mists he had held in his hand had dropped onto his CO2 scrubber and soaked the machine in fine whisky. His cockpit had reeked whisky since and the amber light showed that the scrubber was working at above its normal pollution level. His comms unit lit up as the security leader sent the all-go signal and the view was occluded by the bright circles of wormhole openings as the convoy forced its way through the non-space of in-between and he engaged the exotic matter engines himself.
Ironstar expected a clear passage through Latos O-12, otherwise the security leader wouldn't have sent the signal. Only a single ship was in the sector beside the convoy and that ship was too far out to be a threat. Ironstar called up the name of the pilot but didn't get a fix on the ship before it jumped out. The convoy lined up for a passage through the roids that lay in the way to the wormhole and the escorts started boosting for the wormhole and the next system. He easily acquired the wormhole nexus, distinguished by its complete absence of existence, the flaw in the universe that allowed mankind to travel immense distances in no time at all, and read the distance. 3798 metres and approaching with the standard 55 meters every second. Ironstar adjusted his back in the seat and rolled slightly to port, 3756 metres.
Suddenly three rings of furious energy discharge disgorged a trio of fighters, a Corvus Marauder, a Corvult and an Atlas-X directly in the path of the convoy. Ironstar switched the master arm button to "On" immediately and attempted to acquire a targeting solution on the nearest of the ships, just in case. The mandatory IFF transmitters of the three incoming ships had been disabled, an almost sure sign that they were pirates and if Ironstar had ever been in doubt, the flare and stream of accelerated positrons that was fired from the Atlas X into the flank of the front Behemoth tore whatever inhibitions he might have had away. He rolled up a hostiles list and engaged the nearest bogey, a Corvus Marauder that was speeding towards its prey. Ironstar lined his guns up and fired a long salvo of neutrons at the pirate ship. He counted several hits but most missed by mere metres as the pirate dodged skilfully, intent on the Behemoth that was his target. Ironstar cursed slowly and methodically as the Marauder fired two flares into the Behemoth and forced the massive trader to compensate for the impact of shrapnel that had just made a complete mess of its side armour. Ironstar twisted the Vulture and fired another burst of neutrons into the rear of the Marauder, allowing himself a small smile as the armour plating was disintegrated and inner components started to show. Not long now, he thought and set up for another burst when the Marauder fired another duo of flares and a long stream of neutrons into the defenceless Behemoth. Intent on getting the pirate, Ironstar broke off too slowly and had only started to twist away from the Behemoth when its engine and possible cargo exploded in a massive cloud, hammering his Vulture and sending it spinning. He regained control very fast and twisted his ship in order to regain a targeting solution on the Marauder. There, just to starboard and... Ironstar took immediate evasive action as he realised that the Marauder was pointing directly at him and had spewed a duo of flares his way. He just managed to skirt the detonation sphere of the flares but in doing so presented his vulnerable belly to the precise firing of the pirate's neutron gun.
Ironstar mouthed another long and hideous curse towards the pirate as he took random twists to avoid the fire. There, the Marauder was a safe 480 metres away and not closing. Ironstar called up a sector list to call for aid in engaging the heavier ship and saw to his surprise that no escort fighters were killed. The two Behemoths that initially had been targeted were now merely expanding balls of debris but they could hopefully get the last one through. He boosted towards the remaining Behemoth intent on making that happen. An explosion lit his right side and one of the escort Vultures disappeared from his IFF screen, closely followed by two more flashes. His hope of getting the last Behemoth through faded away as rapidly as the pirates closed on the trader. He stopped following the trader and turned to engage the oncoming pirates, more as an act of defiance than anything else. He seriously didn't believe he would last very long against the three pirate ships and a quick damage scan showed that only the Marauder has sustained any damage. Three flares thundered towards him and he twisted violently while tapping his sidethruster, once more narrowly avoiding the proximity fuses. The pirates had, however, foreseen that exact manoeuvre and a string of neutrons from the Corvult tore fist-sized chunks of armour away from his winglets, following his frantic moves with ease. Ironstar cursed and risked a short boost to avoid the neutrons, unfortunately straight into the proximity fuse of a starflare. The violent explosion tore the fighter apart and ejected his escape module while at the same time placing him in a vegetative state to ensure his survival. The pod started moving towards the nearest jump point slowly but surely.
A set of flares were enough to strip away what remaining armour plates the Behemoth had and the heavy Positron canon finished the job with a pair of well placed bursts. Chaakin smiled underneath the pilot's mask he wore and keyed his comms.
"Good work guys, I'll get a 'moth 'n start scoffin' the loot. Fly security on it for now, aye?"
The other two pilots clicked twice, indicating a willingness to do as agreed. Chaakin jumped out of the system and into Sedina. He didn't check the sector list, he had nothing to be afraid of. Sometimes a Viper would patrol in grey but that was so rare that the pirates basically had complete security and control. He jumped to Sedina D-14 and docked his Corvult. He removed the helmet and ran a hand through his sweaty hair before opening the canopy to the station. The usual mixture of lubricants, sweat, electric welding and underneath it all a heavy note of chocolate assaulted his nostrils; the smells of home. He got out of the fighter and walked over to the adjacent berth where his own Behemoth was docked. It had taken a lot of bribes and even some threats to get the set of docking berths, but is was worth it in situations like this where speed was essential. He let his left hand glide over the old Norse style raven that was painted on the side of the Behemoth with affection, the raven that was in fact on all of his ships, and entered the cargo vessel. Even though he hated the lack of agility on the Behemoth, he appreciated the massive cargo space. Three minutes later he entered Latos again, radar active. Only his two guild mates were in the sector and he scanned the cargo that the destroyed convoy had carried. A small explosion caught his attention and he zoomed in on the point. A small expanding cloud of debris with Azrael's Atlas hanging nearby.
"Azrael, this is Raven."
"Go for Azrael."
"What is happening?"
"Nuthin, just popping pods. I even got the TGFT pod."
Chaakin shook his head in response and focused on the cargo again.
"Just make sure you keep a lookout when I am in this tub."
"No problems Raven, Ardenus has the security."
Another pod was pierced by positrons and exploded in a shower of hard-shifted photons as the anti-matter reacted with the matter of the pod.
Chaakin didn't much care for killing escape pods but he knew the hatred that kept Azrael going. He had halfway expected to see Ardenus pop pods as well until he saw the IFF of the pods. Ineubis, not UIT. He scooped the cargo aboard the Behemoth and scanned for more. Nothing.
"Azrael and Ardenus, security for D-14?"
A last explosion lit the black and diamond carpet of space before a set of clicks indicated they were on their way. Another convoy full of cargo had been secured for CHRN and another group of people had been sent to meet Kharon. Only the debris of the smashed ships and groups of twin silver coins marked where the traders had met their end.
###
tsreknor, councillor of TGFT, sighed deeply, removed his hands from the input field and leaned back in his chair. He had been in doubt for some time but the doubt was slowly evaporating the longer time he spent in his office. He leaned forwards again, moved his hands in the input field and tried to log onto the secret network of GSS, Guild Security Services, the unit that had been formed following the infiltration of TGFT by Asteroth about two years ago. The screen shuddered and a disgustingly loud and obnoxious sound emanated from the box. He gave up and pushed his chair back before he punched the input field in anger. This was a problem he couldn't solve by himself.
"Charlie", he shouted and grabbed a set a of notes he had lying on his table. The door to the office opened and an athletic looking brunette peeked in with a poorly hidden smile on her freckled elfin face. tsreknor pointed to the terminal with his papers and frowned.
"The damned thing doesn't work as it should."
Charlie, or Charlene as her parents had named her some 19 years ago, closed the door behind her and came over to the terminal where she did something fast and complex in the input field. The terminal purred to life slowly and a list of messages started appearing, despairingly long.
"There Sir, I fixed it for you. Anything else Sir?"
He looked up at her annoyed as hell that he couldn't make it work, but the annoyance disappeared when he met her smiling brown eyes. He couldn't help grinning back, this little drama had played itself out every day the last year or so, ever since they got the new input fields with triple bio-security passcodes.
"No, not for now Charlie. I think I can manage from here."
She nodded, bouncing the tight bun she had tied her hair into, and left the room as silently as she had arrived. tsreknor sighed; forty years and maybe twenty pounds ago and he would have made serious efforts to chase her. Now he was satisfied if the koffee wasn't too strong and the Helio Mists wasn't too thin. With that realisation, the kind that only comes with experience, tsreknor opened his messages and started the day's work. A few notes into it and he was thumping the alert button for the council.
He was not alone in being interested in the convoy. Slowly twisting along the axis of his ship, Ironstar, member of the TGFT, responded to the call for escort ships for the trip to Sedina. The minimum security flag was an indicator that the payout for escorting wouldn't be that good but he was going that way anyway. He thumbed the turbo slightly to bring his Vulture Mk III into line with the exiting tradeships and received the full mission package as the commander of the security detail accepted his offer. Great, a steady 55 m/s for the entire flight, easily within regular speed of his ship. Ironstar leaned back in his seat and grabbed the small metal flask from the holder to the left of his throttle control, unscrewed the golden lid and brought the flask to his lips without a single drop spilling, a feat in itself in the zero gravity, and swallowed a mouthful of the golden liquid inside; Helio Mists, almost a required vice of TGFT members. He replaced the flask and found his place in the rear of the convoy.
The convoy passed through the wormhole to Azek without incident, not that any was expected. The sheer amount of gunturrets ensured that not only was the wormhole sector free from the hive but also from even the most persistent pirate or wayward nationalist. The security lead received ion storm information from the Azek storm control centre and shared it with the rest of the flight. No hindrances were detected and the convoy jumped directly to the Latos wormhole interface, the last safe passage on the way. From then on the convoy was only protected by the escorts. Ironstar was pretty confident though, most pirates didn't attack a well defended voy as this one, especially one that included a full member of TGFT. Still, he was there to defend the traders and that was an assignment never to be taken lightly. A quick scan of the instruments showed all green except for the persistent amber light that indicated only partial operational functionality of his life support system. He grinned at that though. Back in Dau a couple of weeks ago he had rushed to his ship and had slipped on the edge of the canopy. The bottle of Helio Mists he had held in his hand had dropped onto his CO2 scrubber and soaked the machine in fine whisky. His cockpit had reeked whisky since and the amber light showed that the scrubber was working at above its normal pollution level. His comms unit lit up as the security leader sent the all-go signal and the view was occluded by the bright circles of wormhole openings as the convoy forced its way through the non-space of in-between and he engaged the exotic matter engines himself.
Ironstar expected a clear passage through Latos O-12, otherwise the security leader wouldn't have sent the signal. Only a single ship was in the sector beside the convoy and that ship was too far out to be a threat. Ironstar called up the name of the pilot but didn't get a fix on the ship before it jumped out. The convoy lined up for a passage through the roids that lay in the way to the wormhole and the escorts started boosting for the wormhole and the next system. He easily acquired the wormhole nexus, distinguished by its complete absence of existence, the flaw in the universe that allowed mankind to travel immense distances in no time at all, and read the distance. 3798 metres and approaching with the standard 55 meters every second. Ironstar adjusted his back in the seat and rolled slightly to port, 3756 metres.
Suddenly three rings of furious energy discharge disgorged a trio of fighters, a Corvus Marauder, a Corvult and an Atlas-X directly in the path of the convoy. Ironstar switched the master arm button to "On" immediately and attempted to acquire a targeting solution on the nearest of the ships, just in case. The mandatory IFF transmitters of the three incoming ships had been disabled, an almost sure sign that they were pirates and if Ironstar had ever been in doubt, the flare and stream of accelerated positrons that was fired from the Atlas X into the flank of the front Behemoth tore whatever inhibitions he might have had away. He rolled up a hostiles list and engaged the nearest bogey, a Corvus Marauder that was speeding towards its prey. Ironstar lined his guns up and fired a long salvo of neutrons at the pirate ship. He counted several hits but most missed by mere metres as the pirate dodged skilfully, intent on the Behemoth that was his target. Ironstar cursed slowly and methodically as the Marauder fired two flares into the Behemoth and forced the massive trader to compensate for the impact of shrapnel that had just made a complete mess of its side armour. Ironstar twisted the Vulture and fired another burst of neutrons into the rear of the Marauder, allowing himself a small smile as the armour plating was disintegrated and inner components started to show. Not long now, he thought and set up for another burst when the Marauder fired another duo of flares and a long stream of neutrons into the defenceless Behemoth. Intent on getting the pirate, Ironstar broke off too slowly and had only started to twist away from the Behemoth when its engine and possible cargo exploded in a massive cloud, hammering his Vulture and sending it spinning. He regained control very fast and twisted his ship in order to regain a targeting solution on the Marauder. There, just to starboard and... Ironstar took immediate evasive action as he realised that the Marauder was pointing directly at him and had spewed a duo of flares his way. He just managed to skirt the detonation sphere of the flares but in doing so presented his vulnerable belly to the precise firing of the pirate's neutron gun.
Ironstar mouthed another long and hideous curse towards the pirate as he took random twists to avoid the fire. There, the Marauder was a safe 480 metres away and not closing. Ironstar called up a sector list to call for aid in engaging the heavier ship and saw to his surprise that no escort fighters were killed. The two Behemoths that initially had been targeted were now merely expanding balls of debris but they could hopefully get the last one through. He boosted towards the remaining Behemoth intent on making that happen. An explosion lit his right side and one of the escort Vultures disappeared from his IFF screen, closely followed by two more flashes. His hope of getting the last Behemoth through faded away as rapidly as the pirates closed on the trader. He stopped following the trader and turned to engage the oncoming pirates, more as an act of defiance than anything else. He seriously didn't believe he would last very long against the three pirate ships and a quick damage scan showed that only the Marauder has sustained any damage. Three flares thundered towards him and he twisted violently while tapping his sidethruster, once more narrowly avoiding the proximity fuses. The pirates had, however, foreseen that exact manoeuvre and a string of neutrons from the Corvult tore fist-sized chunks of armour away from his winglets, following his frantic moves with ease. Ironstar cursed and risked a short boost to avoid the neutrons, unfortunately straight into the proximity fuse of a starflare. The violent explosion tore the fighter apart and ejected his escape module while at the same time placing him in a vegetative state to ensure his survival. The pod started moving towards the nearest jump point slowly but surely.
A set of flares were enough to strip away what remaining armour plates the Behemoth had and the heavy Positron canon finished the job with a pair of well placed bursts. Chaakin smiled underneath the pilot's mask he wore and keyed his comms.
"Good work guys, I'll get a 'moth 'n start scoffin' the loot. Fly security on it for now, aye?"
The other two pilots clicked twice, indicating a willingness to do as agreed. Chaakin jumped out of the system and into Sedina. He didn't check the sector list, he had nothing to be afraid of. Sometimes a Viper would patrol in grey but that was so rare that the pirates basically had complete security and control. He jumped to Sedina D-14 and docked his Corvult. He removed the helmet and ran a hand through his sweaty hair before opening the canopy to the station. The usual mixture of lubricants, sweat, electric welding and underneath it all a heavy note of chocolate assaulted his nostrils; the smells of home. He got out of the fighter and walked over to the adjacent berth where his own Behemoth was docked. It had taken a lot of bribes and even some threats to get the set of docking berths, but is was worth it in situations like this where speed was essential. He let his left hand glide over the old Norse style raven that was painted on the side of the Behemoth with affection, the raven that was in fact on all of his ships, and entered the cargo vessel. Even though he hated the lack of agility on the Behemoth, he appreciated the massive cargo space. Three minutes later he entered Latos again, radar active. Only his two guild mates were in the sector and he scanned the cargo that the destroyed convoy had carried. A small explosion caught his attention and he zoomed in on the point. A small expanding cloud of debris with Azrael's Atlas hanging nearby.
"Azrael, this is Raven."
"Go for Azrael."
"What is happening?"
"Nuthin, just popping pods. I even got the TGFT pod."
Chaakin shook his head in response and focused on the cargo again.
"Just make sure you keep a lookout when I am in this tub."
"No problems Raven, Ardenus has the security."
Another pod was pierced by positrons and exploded in a shower of hard-shifted photons as the anti-matter reacted with the matter of the pod.
Chaakin didn't much care for killing escape pods but he knew the hatred that kept Azrael going. He had halfway expected to see Ardenus pop pods as well until he saw the IFF of the pods. Ineubis, not UIT. He scooped the cargo aboard the Behemoth and scanned for more. Nothing.
"Azrael and Ardenus, security for D-14?"
A last explosion lit the black and diamond carpet of space before a set of clicks indicated they were on their way. Another convoy full of cargo had been secured for CHRN and another group of people had been sent to meet Kharon. Only the debris of the smashed ships and groups of twin silver coins marked where the traders had met their end.
###
tsreknor, councillor of TGFT, sighed deeply, removed his hands from the input field and leaned back in his chair. He had been in doubt for some time but the doubt was slowly evaporating the longer time he spent in his office. He leaned forwards again, moved his hands in the input field and tried to log onto the secret network of GSS, Guild Security Services, the unit that had been formed following the infiltration of TGFT by Asteroth about two years ago. The screen shuddered and a disgustingly loud and obnoxious sound emanated from the box. He gave up and pushed his chair back before he punched the input field in anger. This was a problem he couldn't solve by himself.
"Charlie", he shouted and grabbed a set a of notes he had lying on his table. The door to the office opened and an athletic looking brunette peeked in with a poorly hidden smile on her freckled elfin face. tsreknor pointed to the terminal with his papers and frowned.
"The damned thing doesn't work as it should."
Charlie, or Charlene as her parents had named her some 19 years ago, closed the door behind her and came over to the terminal where she did something fast and complex in the input field. The terminal purred to life slowly and a list of messages started appearing, despairingly long.
"There Sir, I fixed it for you. Anything else Sir?"
He looked up at her annoyed as hell that he couldn't make it work, but the annoyance disappeared when he met her smiling brown eyes. He couldn't help grinning back, this little drama had played itself out every day the last year or so, ever since they got the new input fields with triple bio-security passcodes.
"No, not for now Charlie. I think I can manage from here."
She nodded, bouncing the tight bun she had tied her hair into, and left the room as silently as she had arrived. tsreknor sighed; forty years and maybe twenty pounds ago and he would have made serious efforts to chase her. Now he was satisfied if the koffee wasn't too strong and the Helio Mists wasn't too thin. With that realisation, the kind that only comes with experience, tsreknor opened his messages and started the day's work. A few notes into it and he was thumping the alert button for the council.
Oh holy shit this is incredibly awesome.
Yay for Hortan.
Yay for Hortan.
BOOM!
Shoulda paid.
sounds like the rats killers need to come back in force lol good job keep it up
OOC: Sorry for the delay in posting, it is kinda hard finding an internet place out here...:)
Expect the story to be coming to you regularly from around the 18th or so.
Hort
Expect the story to be coming to you regularly from around the 18th or so.
Hort
Chapter 3
The large steaming pile of synth-bacon, eggs, imitated potato chips and soy-beans was enough to sustain four normal size UIT persons or six Itani monks on a good day. The nineteen pieces of finest toasted synth-wheat bread generously lathered in Almost™ butter lay to the side, competing fiercely with the large stack of syrup-bathed pancakes for what little table space remained. The toast and pancakes would probably feed another dozen or so persons. The three pints of Dark Lady ale completed the meal in a way that only a Sercan could appreciate. Riddik looked at his breakfast with barely contained happiness, this was truly a meal fit for a man. He had been shipping different tradegoods to and from Sol II for the last three days continuously, only keeping on going on uppers, freeze-dried soy-meat and caffeine enriched Koffee. Once back at Dau K-10 he knew that the first thing he would have to do was visit Soggy's waffles and pancakes for a treat, and here he was now. He lifted the knife and fork and was just about to stuff his face with the first few eggs and a half pig, when his brainpal chimed ever so gently. He accessed the feed and received the code red summons from tsreknor. "All councillors to the main briefing room immediately." He slowly lowered the fork and looked at the plate of delicious goodness before resigning to the cruel fate Lady Luck had handed him.
"Can't a man get hisself some privacy to eat?" he bellowed before rising from the table, sending the chair tumbling across the tile floor and hammering into the glass facade. He looked at he food in despair and slowly clenched and unclenched his hands in building rage.
"Something wrong Rid? Aren't the eggs good enough?"
The waitress stood a “safe” three metres away, slowly twisting her apron, looking at the hulking Serco pilot. He looked over at her, fury painted in his face and saw her flinch in fear. He remembered the small programme that Keria had given him and activated it, feeling calm descend upon him once more.
"They are perfect Sally, just perfect. But I have to go."
Sally nodded, happy that she was not the target of his rage and came over to the table.
"Doggy bag?"
He looked down at her slightly confused until he realised what she had asked him about. He nodded distractedly and sent a "received" signal back to tsreknor.
###
The tartan kilt and claymore that had belonged to Ecka's family for generations past, adorned the rear wall of the briefing room, a massive row of holo screens the right and a very well-stocked bar the left wall. The super-elliptic table had eleven very comfortable looking chairs around it, all identical in "hunter-green", the colour of the guild. Faustino was standing at the bar mixing a set of drinks as tsreknor arrived short of breath despite the relative short walk. He promised himself that next week he would definitely start running again, or at least get some Sercan body sculpting pills. Faustino turned with the drinks and handed one to tsreknor without a word, winked and walked over to his seat with the usual elegance he always displayed. tsreknor was about to say something clever but decided that the moment had passed and just dumped himself unceremoniously into the chair next to Ecka's and took a mouthful of the drink. Perfect, a Helio Special, two parts Helio Mists and three parts Verasi Koffee. The boss nodded slightly and sipped from his own battered and scratched silver hip flask before saluting with the top towards the entrance at Riddik as he entered the room. Wild Gramps, 2iC of GSS closed the doors and nodded to tsreknor, signalling that everybody had arrived and he cleared his throat before looking around.
"Where is John Eldritch, Surbius and Obsidian?" tsreknor asked.
Wild Gramps looked at his PDA before answering in a soft voice, "Surbius is still on extended leave, believed to be somewhere deep in grey space on an exploration mission that has been UIT sanctioned; Obsidian hasn't been well since the Cerberus incident and is still excused from council matters on medical leave, and it is assumed that John E is on a long-term cargo mission deep in Itani space."
Ecka chuckled, the sound being one that was normally registered on the open Richter scale. Wild Gramps smiled and looked up from the PDA, "which means that he is probably seducing some young lass somewhere, killing hordes of alien flesh-devouring plants, discovering new systems of endless treasure and/or handling the Itani/Sercan conflict single-handedly, if the John Eldritch trash novels are to be believed."
That brought out a polite laugh from the councillors, except tsreknor.
"Maybe, but I brought you here for something very important and we do not have time for fun and games Gramps. This morning we received a... Riddik, what are you doing?"
Everybody turned and looked at Riddik who had buried his head into the bucket he had brought along. He slowly removed the bucket and wiped most of the eggs and synth-bacon of his chin before smiling as he chewed the bits he had found. Faustino pointed to his left eyebrow with a sly grin and Riddik looked up and grabbed the piece of pork that had decided to glue itself to his face. He stuffed it into his mouth and grinned back.
"Eating breakfast."
"From a bucket?"
"Yeah, the doggie bags weren't big enough."
tsreknor shook his head and looked into his papers again. When it came to dealing with Riddik, he simply gave up every time.
"Where was I, ah yes. We received a distress signal from Ironstar's ship in Latos O-12. The distress beacon lasted for less than a minute before it was violently cut off. At the cut off time, the clone vats received an order from the TGFT back-up files and we must assume that Ironstar's pod has been destroyed."
"Do we know what happened?"
The worry was obvious in Faustino's voice. So far the hive ships had left the escape pods alone after the offending ships had been destroyed. A change in hive behaviour would have dire consequences for the pilots; getting cloned repeatedly was not healthy for neither body nor soul. Only the truly desperate, extremely foolish or very insane chose that route instead of the moments of temporal stasis endured in the escape pods.
"No, but we have a contact person down at the cloning vat right now waiting for him to wake up. I suggest that we go back to war-time reporting again just in case it happens to another pilot."
Several councillors protested, especially Riddik, who used his vocal amplification to cut through the noise.
"No way I am going to be reporting in to the HQ with every move I make. It is enough I let you sift through my official guild data, I will not have you snoops controlling what I feel is right to do."
Ecka cleared his throat and the room fell silent.
"Ah dinnae loch reportin' mah every move onie mair than ye dae Riddik. However, Ah see th' point 'at tsreknor is tryin' tae make haur an' Ah support it somewhat. Frae thes moment oan, aw travel tae grey will be logged wi' destination, roote an' timings. Will 'at be sufficient ts?
Riddik was just about to protest but his defiant pose withered under the glare of Ecka and he sat down, slowly nodding his head, picking at the contents of the bucket instead.
"I believe it will be for now Sir. At least until I have spoken to Ironstar and found out what happened to him."
Ecka rose and looked all the councillors directly in the eye, or at least it felt that way, ending with tsreknor.
"Ah am expectin' a report oan mah desk th' day efter tha' moorns nicht. "
The large steaming pile of synth-bacon, eggs, imitated potato chips and soy-beans was enough to sustain four normal size UIT persons or six Itani monks on a good day. The nineteen pieces of finest toasted synth-wheat bread generously lathered in Almost™ butter lay to the side, competing fiercely with the large stack of syrup-bathed pancakes for what little table space remained. The toast and pancakes would probably feed another dozen or so persons. The three pints of Dark Lady ale completed the meal in a way that only a Sercan could appreciate. Riddik looked at his breakfast with barely contained happiness, this was truly a meal fit for a man. He had been shipping different tradegoods to and from Sol II for the last three days continuously, only keeping on going on uppers, freeze-dried soy-meat and caffeine enriched Koffee. Once back at Dau K-10 he knew that the first thing he would have to do was visit Soggy's waffles and pancakes for a treat, and here he was now. He lifted the knife and fork and was just about to stuff his face with the first few eggs and a half pig, when his brainpal chimed ever so gently. He accessed the feed and received the code red summons from tsreknor. "All councillors to the main briefing room immediately." He slowly lowered the fork and looked at the plate of delicious goodness before resigning to the cruel fate Lady Luck had handed him.
"Can't a man get hisself some privacy to eat?" he bellowed before rising from the table, sending the chair tumbling across the tile floor and hammering into the glass facade. He looked at he food in despair and slowly clenched and unclenched his hands in building rage.
"Something wrong Rid? Aren't the eggs good enough?"
The waitress stood a “safe” three metres away, slowly twisting her apron, looking at the hulking Serco pilot. He looked over at her, fury painted in his face and saw her flinch in fear. He remembered the small programme that Keria had given him and activated it, feeling calm descend upon him once more.
"They are perfect Sally, just perfect. But I have to go."
Sally nodded, happy that she was not the target of his rage and came over to the table.
"Doggy bag?"
He looked down at her slightly confused until he realised what she had asked him about. He nodded distractedly and sent a "received" signal back to tsreknor.
###
The tartan kilt and claymore that had belonged to Ecka's family for generations past, adorned the rear wall of the briefing room, a massive row of holo screens the right and a very well-stocked bar the left wall. The super-elliptic table had eleven very comfortable looking chairs around it, all identical in "hunter-green", the colour of the guild. Faustino was standing at the bar mixing a set of drinks as tsreknor arrived short of breath despite the relative short walk. He promised himself that next week he would definitely start running again, or at least get some Sercan body sculpting pills. Faustino turned with the drinks and handed one to tsreknor without a word, winked and walked over to his seat with the usual elegance he always displayed. tsreknor was about to say something clever but decided that the moment had passed and just dumped himself unceremoniously into the chair next to Ecka's and took a mouthful of the drink. Perfect, a Helio Special, two parts Helio Mists and three parts Verasi Koffee. The boss nodded slightly and sipped from his own battered and scratched silver hip flask before saluting with the top towards the entrance at Riddik as he entered the room. Wild Gramps, 2iC of GSS closed the doors and nodded to tsreknor, signalling that everybody had arrived and he cleared his throat before looking around.
"Where is John Eldritch, Surbius and Obsidian?" tsreknor asked.
Wild Gramps looked at his PDA before answering in a soft voice, "Surbius is still on extended leave, believed to be somewhere deep in grey space on an exploration mission that has been UIT sanctioned; Obsidian hasn't been well since the Cerberus incident and is still excused from council matters on medical leave, and it is assumed that John E is on a long-term cargo mission deep in Itani space."
Ecka chuckled, the sound being one that was normally registered on the open Richter scale. Wild Gramps smiled and looked up from the PDA, "which means that he is probably seducing some young lass somewhere, killing hordes of alien flesh-devouring plants, discovering new systems of endless treasure and/or handling the Itani/Sercan conflict single-handedly, if the John Eldritch trash novels are to be believed."
That brought out a polite laugh from the councillors, except tsreknor.
"Maybe, but I brought you here for something very important and we do not have time for fun and games Gramps. This morning we received a... Riddik, what are you doing?"
Everybody turned and looked at Riddik who had buried his head into the bucket he had brought along. He slowly removed the bucket and wiped most of the eggs and synth-bacon of his chin before smiling as he chewed the bits he had found. Faustino pointed to his left eyebrow with a sly grin and Riddik looked up and grabbed the piece of pork that had decided to glue itself to his face. He stuffed it into his mouth and grinned back.
"Eating breakfast."
"From a bucket?"
"Yeah, the doggie bags weren't big enough."
tsreknor shook his head and looked into his papers again. When it came to dealing with Riddik, he simply gave up every time.
"Where was I, ah yes. We received a distress signal from Ironstar's ship in Latos O-12. The distress beacon lasted for less than a minute before it was violently cut off. At the cut off time, the clone vats received an order from the TGFT back-up files and we must assume that Ironstar's pod has been destroyed."
"Do we know what happened?"
The worry was obvious in Faustino's voice. So far the hive ships had left the escape pods alone after the offending ships had been destroyed. A change in hive behaviour would have dire consequences for the pilots; getting cloned repeatedly was not healthy for neither body nor soul. Only the truly desperate, extremely foolish or very insane chose that route instead of the moments of temporal stasis endured in the escape pods.
"No, but we have a contact person down at the cloning vat right now waiting for him to wake up. I suggest that we go back to war-time reporting again just in case it happens to another pilot."
Several councillors protested, especially Riddik, who used his vocal amplification to cut through the noise.
"No way I am going to be reporting in to the HQ with every move I make. It is enough I let you sift through my official guild data, I will not have you snoops controlling what I feel is right to do."
Ecka cleared his throat and the room fell silent.
"Ah dinnae loch reportin' mah every move onie mair than ye dae Riddik. However, Ah see th' point 'at tsreknor is tryin' tae make haur an' Ah support it somewhat. Frae thes moment oan, aw travel tae grey will be logged wi' destination, roote an' timings. Will 'at be sufficient ts?
Riddik was just about to protest but his defiant pose withered under the glare of Ecka and he sat down, slowly nodding his head, picking at the contents of the bucket instead.
"I believe it will be for now Sir. At least until I have spoken to Ironstar and found out what happened to him."
Ecka rose and looked all the councillors directly in the eye, or at least it felt that way, ending with tsreknor.
"Ah am expectin' a report oan mah desk th' day efter tha' moorns nicht. "
I think Riddik needs one of these.
bite me waffles!!!!!!!!!lol
I don't think that horse could support Riddik...