Killed by a Mocking Bird [still not a DiD, exactly]

[Timsup2nothin]

Because I have spent a lot of my X career starting and restarting so I could try new things, I've spent a lot of my X career flying little ships. To me an M4 is pretty much a luxury.

First group was four Ns, two Ms, and the P. They were smacking a couple of locals...civilians in a Disco and a Buster...so I could fly up without getting attacked. Lit up one N with IREs and ran for a station about four clicks away. Spun using the station for cover and got two more Ns before the Ms arrived. Weaved around the station for a while until help arrived. Had to shoot down a couple missiles.

Two Nova customs cops arrived and distracted them, so I popped out and lit up one of the Ms with my two PACs. They got the other one, and I tucked behind the P and got lucky enough to land the kill shot. One of the customs cops got shot up pretty bad so I used him for the story, though I forgot to check his name and had to make one up.

Ran halfway across the sector but by the time I got there all that was left of the second group was two Ms fighting the other local patrol pair. I got one, they got the other.

And, yeah, if I was playing a DiD I'd probably have just avoided this bit of fun, since it really didn't pay all that well and was hardly necessary. The only time Bryon has died though was over a military supply transport that I just couldn't resist. FULL load. Hundreds of mosquitoes, hundreds of wasps, twenty PACs, twelve PRGs, handful of CIGs, some other big guns in ones and twos...it was literally millions of credits just flying along...and had fifty(!) drones. There was an asteroid, and if he had dropped them ten at a time I'd have had him, but I think he dropped ten and then twenty more when there were still three or four left.

[Sirrobert]

I never actually connected the P and the Buster part until you mentioned it.
DAMN that's impressive.

I happely engage a Q in my Dragon, but that thing has 400MJ shielding. If you get caught in a salvo just once in an M4 it's game over.


Also I gatta say, I enjoyed this little conversation alot more than I probably would if you wrote about the fight in a normal story. The implication of a criminal with a police licence is nice, and it's fun to think about the implications of your actions on the rest of the universe

[Timsup2nothin]

My police license got voided...somewhere along the line I attacked some Argon freighters in pirate space...but the mission offer was 'defend against Xenon activity' and I figured that would be fun and pay off a little bit at least. I've been ignoring patrol missions that aren't specific because I don't want to fight pirates.

As the lone target of two heavily armed Novas the P wasn't really that dangerous, the only tricky part was holding back until I could finish it off without running out of juice. Amidst all the HEPT fire it was taking getting the kill shot was pure luck, but I made the effort so I was still firing with everything I had.

[Sirrobert]

You mean you're not using the mission briefing fix mod?

[Timsup2nothin]

You mean you're not using the mission briefing fix mod?

Nope. Never have. The only mod I use in this game is the tubeless complex mod. And that's just for looks.

[SakuyaFM]

Been keeping track of this as well as the first one, and I must say, they're great reads. I've been trying to make some sort of story play myself, but I just know my tastes are way too outlandish for most people here, plus my writing skills are far too mediocre.

So I'll just sit here and enjoy all the stories in CU.

[Song Of Obsidian]

You mean you're not using the mission briefing fix mod?

Nope. Never have. The only mod I use in this game is the tubeless complex mod. And that's just for looks.

Woo! Finally someone who plays like I do...

...in other words, a masochist

[Sabrina Bergin]

Sir Robert:

I suspect as do you that the tenth voice is the one speaking truth.
I mean tetris for gosh sake!.

[Sabrina Bergin]

Sakuya:

I am at best a mediocre writer this is a fact I acknowledge every time I re read my posts and have to edit them but that does not mean you don't have talent or a truly unique take on the game.

I would urge you to write a story, good or bad does not matter not to an author.
When you post your first story you will be critiqued harshly by some with understanding and praise by others.

What you will accomplish in that first post however is a sense of achievement and of satisfaction at seeing people read your posts.
It also adds a whole new dimension to how you play the game.

If you are role playing (ie your character there are certain things you will or will or not do) this places restrictions on you that are unique to your game.

MY best advice is to post a story and keep writing in your own style regardless of the number of views or criticism you get.
Only in this way can you develop as both a writer and a player and it would be a shame to see some one with such an urge to write some thing hold back.

[Timsup2nothin]

Interlude 3

"Captain to the bridge! Captain to the bridge!" Alarms clanged through the corridors of the Centaur corvette. Jobid Motiv knew the ship's computer would put him through, so he didn't bother with his wrist com unit when he acknowledged. He trotted to the nearest lift.

When the doors opened onto the bridge Kerron Deene rose from the command chair and saluted. Jobid noted that the junior officer's uniform was spotless, and showed no loss of sharpness in its creases. The Motiv Salvage insignia on the breast was perfectly polished. "Target on scanners, sir," the watch officer reported crisply. "Range, 22 clicks. Making 68 meters per second. We are on an intercept course."

"Well done Mr Deene. I have the conn." Jobid settled into the command chair. Not for the first time he wondered if the military protocols were a bit overdone. His company wasn't military. In fact despite his best efforts only about a third of their work was done on the high paying military contracts he coveted. As a small company, with the owner dividing his time between being the captain of the only ship and finding and negotiating the company's contracts, not much more could be expected.

He watched their quarry grow on the main viewscreen. The Magnetar belonged to a rival salvage operation. Jobid Motiv would have been insulted at the reference. He considered them to be little better than pirates. While he wanted more military contracts he was an Argon, and believed that meant something. The Magnetar carried an Argon military Nova in its forward bay. A Nova which had been legally salvaged and was currently being transported into Paranid space; being sold to the highest bidders.

"Open coms," Jobid said. The com screen to the right of the main vid flashed briefly, then formed an image. Kels Mage glared out at him from the bridge of the Magnetar.

"What do you want?" the handsome man who Jobid couldn't help but think of as a traitor snarled.

"I have a claim and return contract for the Nova."

"Too bad your ship is so slow then."

"I'll advance you ten percent of the claim fee. You make money and go about your business, I take the ship and go about mine."

Kels laughed, a bitten off snort as if he were trying not to be rude when everyone on either bridge knew that being rude was exactly what he intended. "You're probably getting half the price I'll get for her to start with, and you want to give me ten percent? If you have anything else to say contact my offices. I'm busy here." The comlink closed with a snap.

Watching the Centaur growing on the monitor, Kels Mage weighed his options. There was no profit in attacking his ship, because destroying it would destroy the Nova, so it would make no sense for Jobid Motiv to do it. However, he thought, Jobid Motiv may not have any sense...or at the very least might not be willing to use any. Obviously the Magnetar was no match for the Centaur by itself, but he had two Perseus fighters aboard. The Paranid pilots and crews would not duck from the fight, and with the Magnetar's own guns added in they may carry the day, but dying here was a strong possibility. Losing one of the Perseus fighters would pretty well consume any profit from the Nova even if he survived. But he did have an ace up his sleeve. He gave the order to sound general quarters.
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Daron Gisler and Karry Bro alternated doing suit checks. Eventually they were complete, and both men stood with their visors open, but otherwise ready for space. "This is crazy," Karry said.

Brent Keswen glared across the discharge bay of the sally port. He also stood, visor open, just finishing the suit checks for Val Colard. "We follow orders."

Karry was not deterred. This wasn't the military, and the 'sergeant stripes' above the Motiv Salvage emblem on Keswen's suit didn't impress him. "We follow orders about maintaining security aboard this ship. That's our job. You may have some misguided ambition about being a space marine, and if you do more power to you...but that's not what they pay me for. My paycheck doesn't cover this, trust me."

Before things got any further out of hand Leann Sillarne cycled into the bay. She actually agreed with Karry for the most part, but as the security chief it was up to her to lead this misguided mission. "Look, Karry," she said, "chances are we're not going to leave this port. If we do it's not like anyone piloting this ship has any experience with boarding operations, so they'll probably dump us out in the middle of nowhere. We stay together, we pursue the target, we get picked back up after this little squabble is over. Then we demand a combat bonus and I promise you we'll get it, even if we have to go to court." Brent Keswen looked sullen. "Brent, no heroics. We'll do our best...safely. None of us are trained for this kind of thing, and none of us are going to die over it, okay?"

"Got it chief," came the reply, but his heart wasn't in it. He knew that what he was agreeing with wasn't completely true. Leann Sillarn was trained for it, at least a little bit. But since she was the only one he figured he had to follow her lead. He did want to be a space marine, but he didn't want to die over it either.
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The ship was shuddering as energy splashed against her shields. Leann Sillarn and her team swayed as the gravity generators struggled to keep up with the erratic maneuvering of her pilot. She could feel the dull shocks through her boot soles when the main battery fired, and just barely detect the lighter vibration of the turret guns. The team had locked down their visors, but there was still atmosphere in the sally port so they could hear each other if they shouted. She met the eyes of each one and said "steady"...probably not loud enough to be heard but she was sure they could read her intent.

The sally port lighting shifted to green, and they turned their backs to the center and locked arms. Ten seconds later the lights went out, the outer hatch blew, and a great rush of air threw the team into space. Much to Leann's surprise they were directly in front of the target and riding the momentum of their launch they were headed almost straight towards it. So much for a simple spacewalk and pickup. Careful not to send anyone spinning they released arms and engaged thrusters to compensate for the frantic turn the pilot of the Magnetar had started. Mag boots locked on as each of the five suits struck the port side of the forward command section.

"Form up on me," she barked into the com unit. She killed the link so no one would hear her sigh of resignation.

They gathered on a flat hull plate and deployed the blister. The dome of thin, flexible, plasteel swelled over them as superconductor filaments charged and locked into a stiff ring. The magnetic field of the superconductors grabbed onto the hull. A tap on her thruster filled the dome with exhausted reaction mass, stretching it tight. She fired her cutting laser and quickly scored a four foot diameter circle into the hull. "Go, go, go," she said into the com, and four cutting lasers lit up, each deepening a quarter circle arc. She focused her own laser to it's narrowest beam and started drilling near the center.

"Equalizing," she said simply when her laser penetrated. A thin stream of atmosphere spewed through the hole she had drilled, bringing tiny beads of steel with it. The molten beads chilled immediately, but came out fast enough to be dangerous, and she sidestepped their path. They bounced harmlessly off the plasteel dome, which now held ship's pressure. She passed a test paddle over the hole and felt no rush of air. "Equalized," she said. "Cutting away," came four voices in near unison. The cutting lasers, which had been sweeping to deepen the arcs without cutting too deep, slowed to a pace which would cut through.

They were nearly through, the four arcs getting closer to connecting into a full circle. Leann had attached a mag handle inside the circle and was ready to pull the piece away as soon as it was cut free. Then one of the cutting lasers exploded. Exploded was the first word that crossed Brent Keswen's mind, but the cutting laser failure would probably be better described as disintegration. Some pieces did spin away with some momentum, but not enough for them to do anything but bounce harmlessly off space suits or plasteel dome.

Leann kept her voice calm and level. "Grab the handle Brent. I'll finish the cut." Her laser bit into the steel. Adaptation. All in the training. Unfortunately she was the only one with enough training. When the four foot circle cut free Brent pulled, hard. Leann saw the glowing molten edge swinging across her vision and screamed "Away from the hole! Lock down! Lock down!" To their credit her team responded fast. They all hit the hull and activated full mag, sticking them spread eagled in place as the hot edge of the disk cut through the blister. The command section of the Magnetar vented a blast of air, loose gear, and body parts, until some large object wedged in the hole and a logjam of smaller gear packed in around it.

Leann hit her comlink. "Command, keep those shields down. We'll need some time. Everyone hold lock." She reduced her mag level so she could move and freed her right arm so she could aim her torch. She cut delicately at the mess, avoiding pieces that exploded free driven by the air streaming through the gaps. Eventually she hit the critical spot and the entire blockage burst out of the hole, tearing the cutting laser out of her grip. When the rush of air had slowed she pulled herself over the edge, tersely ordering her team to follow. "We're in," she reported.

They didn't meet much resistance. There probably hadn't been much to start with and the explosive decompression had gotten most of it.
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The pilot of the Centaur breathed a sigh of relief. Holding position to keep the shields of the Magnetar down had made evasion impossible, and the plasma throwers of the two Perseus fighters had taken a toll on their own shielding. He rolled away and started maneuvering to get one of the fighters in his sights so he could land a blow with the main battery; a blow that should cripple the smaller ship.

Jobid Motiv rode, strapped in his command chair, monitoring vid feeds from all three turrets as well as watching the main screen. He wasn't giving any orders. The pilot would choose his targets and fire at will, as would the gunners. The battle was moving away from the Magnetar, which his team should have secured soon enough. Things seemed to be going well. Then the Nova burst free of the Magnetar's hanger bay.

"Pilot, no main guns on the Nova. I don't want that ship destroyed."

"Yes sir."

"Coms, get me the Nova pilot."

"On four sir," came the reply as another comlink screen lit up.

"This is piracy!" Kels Mage raged from the screen.

"Hardly. Bail out and surrender the Nova. As soon as you do I'll recall my boarding party."

"Your boarding party has killed most of my crew. You'll answer for that." The Nova was bearing down on them, taking fire from the starboard turret. The main battery was bracketing one of the Perseus fighters.

A point of light separated from the Nova. "Hold fire! Hold Fire!" Jobid screamed, but he was too late. Plasma streaming from the starboard turret impacted the missile before it completed the launch sequence, detonating the warhead. Jobid expected that detonation to destroy the Nova, which was the prize in this stupid contest. He was surprised at Kels' apparent suicide. What he didn't expect was a nuclear missile, and his own demise.

Leann stood on the battered command deck of the Magnetar, in her combat suit. "Get the hole patched so we can get some pressure in here," she said quietly as her visor cleared from the flash suppression. "And set course for the Argon Prime shipyard. It's time to go home." Survivors of the Magnetar's crew as well as her own team moved to comply. At this point they were all in it together.
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The courts ruled that both captains had been recklessly irresponsible. Leann was awarded possession of the Magnetar, and as the only surviving officer of the defunct Motiv Slavage Corporation she was assessed restitution to be paid to the survivors and the families of the lost crews. The sale of the Magnetar netted her enough to pay the restitution, barely, and she managed to make jobs for her and her team a part of the deal. Jobs as ship's security, not space marines, which suited them all just fine...even Brent Keswen.

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I'm starting to think I stopped chapter one too soon. Not that anything really interesting is happening from Bryon's point of view, other than the basic freighter mauling and minor missions I was planning to fill out the day with.

But I keep running into story worthy oddities. I wanted a Magnetar as a base, and was thinking that just buying one as part of setting up whatever transport business my partners set up would be reasonable enough...then I saw a used one for sale at the shipyard as I flew by...and the price tag indicated it would come with some sort of useful gear.

So I figured I should explain how Bryon came to own a Magnetar and five very lame marines.

[Morcain32]

This is pretty good stuff, I like how you you use the more as inspiration than literal, ummmmm, reporting? Keep going please!

Have you ever caught yourself thinking about your latest game in the middle of the day, going "how could I write this into a story?" I do, the thinking at least, symptom of playing to much X3 perhaps?

[Timsup2nothin]

This is pretty good stuff, I like how you you use the more as inspiration than literal, ummmmm, reporting? Keep going please!

Have you ever caught yourself thinking about your latest game in the middle of the day, going "how could I write this into a story?" I do, the thinking at least, symptom of playing to much X3 perhaps?

Symptom of being a potential writer...so write. Nothing is more satisfying. Plus it makes games better.

[SakuyaFM]

@Shaun
Actually I've already posted two parts of it, but only in my Wordpress site. Not sure I want to slap it on here yet since I'm still shaky on whether or not I'll stick to XRM or my own amalgamation of mods. A big switch like that could cause tons of discrepancies.

@Tim
Better shape those workers up. Turn them into real men! Real Marines! (or manly squid, if you have any).

[Vayde]

Shaping up very nicely Tim. I see when the muse takes you, you're off down another one of life's trouser legs. Soon the game will take a back seat I feel, and the author will emerge.

Thanks for keeping me entertained during the long haul missions like the Hub.

Vayde

[Timsup2nothin]

Shaping up very nicely Tim. I see when the muse takes you, you're off down another one of life's trouser legs. Soon the game will take a back seat I feel, and the author will emerge.

Thanks for keeping me entertained during the long haul missions like the Hub.

Vayde

You're welcome.

I do keep at least some sort of loose connection to the game. My background is in journalism, not creative writing. I can sensationalize with the best of them, but I use the game to at least start the story.