[FGE] The dire diary of an insignificant Cmdr

[Jermus]

A few thousand ly out and the subspace chatter mill started. "He's not dead" they whispered. I'd flown hard from Jaques so I knew I was well ahead of any trade and comms vessels. But the ftl chatter box cannot be out run.

250 ships lined the way into dock. All honking and flashing their lights in the excitement of the occassion. I thought the chaff 'waterfall' over the mail slot was a nice touch. The roar of the gathered crowd as I touched down threatened to crack the canopy and successfully cracked my composure. Tears streaming, I shut down Cleopatra II's drives and headed to the loading hatch.

Reality, was somewhat..... different. Radio silent ignore playing loud in my ears, I arrived with nary a 2nd glance to my adopted home port. The flight deck controller must have been new as she was quite curt in her instructions.

Disappointment turned to shock when I stepped into the IGER office. 'Sorry sir, we have no record of your signature cert'. "What? That's impossible. You encouraged me to join the Distant Worlds fleet" 'We did encourage pilots to join the fleet, but I'm afraid we have no record of you being amongst them'
"But....but...where's Celine? She'll remember me for sure" 'Celine sir?' "yes, Celine. The red head from Magellan. She helped complete the registration" 'We've no record of a Celine working here either'
"Unbelievable. I know....you can check UC records, yes?" <nods> "good, look up these systems that I handed in when I signed up"
'Interesting. They're first discovered by a Commander matching your name, but not your certificate I'm afraid' "What in blazes? How can that be. Hold on.....let me call them up in my ships 'puter.....huh.....I don't get it. They aren't accessible. But I have photo's. Heck, I'm sure I have a receipt somewhere" 'Not matching your certificate sir'
"This is like some kind of bad movie"
'I don't know what to say sir. You're welcome to sign on again with your current certificate' "thanks. But let me think on it. There has to be something....look, could you do me a favour and get my Cobra, the Kumgitme, brought over?" 'sure thing. And, I really am very sorry. If there was something I could do...' "I know. Don't worry, I'll figure it out"

The story at Serebrov Terminal was vastly different. Arriving with clenched....well everything on account of the 'warning, anarchy system', touch down was a no fuss affair. Having dug out the details I was given back at Jaques, I went to see the CoR. Delight at the data would be an incredible understatement. We all became instant best buddies

A few days later, the subspace chatter was alive with news of a Sidewinder pilot heading back from Beagle and due to arrive soon. My experience would not be repeated. A few of us flew out to Shapley in Sidewinders to meet Cmdr Jermus, the pilot I had met on his way *to*Beagle Pont, to escort him in. The number grew substantially by the time we reached port. No chaff, but the crowd roar was real enough

Your dream matched my arrival! And what an arrival it was! Thanks for making that possible . I've enjoyed every minute of it (in fact I am still glowing [praise]).

I hope all the legal issues with certificates and such will be worked out to your content.

 

[disorganise]

It was fun to be part of

As to the certificates - that's my way of writing a reason for a) losing access to nearly a year of scans - although, I still got paid for them; I intend to go bag to Sag A* so I can get paid again [I got paid Sag A* at Jaques but I can't see the system map; ditto most things pre engineers and post 1.2ish] and b) IGER forgetting that we're allied. Since the diary is bit of light roleplay, the character needed a reason - how the private key certificate got changed who knows. Probably the weird magnetics at BP2. But it plays well into moving camps now I wanna get an imperial ship

 

[disorganise]

Freelancing for Sirius Corporation and the Empire has been pretty good to me. A couple of extra ships in the fleet (I decided Cleopatra II would be put on on shore leave for now, so she was replaced by Black Betty - another Asp Explorer, but kitted out for bubble life), and bank balance getting steadily healthier. Still nowhere near affording a larger ship, but whatever, there's no rush.
Having contact with civilisation does have its advantages. I was put into contact with someone who had successfully modded up the FSD for increased range - clearly I wasn't the only one that had had this thought. *This* time, I didn't end up in hospital, always a bonus The increase in jump range is nice, but we always had a fiddle with the thrusters - she seems to really know what she'd doing. Happy days.

I was taking a break when the news broke. It was part way through a heavenly halbezwik massage on Procyon B4 that the commotion started. A buzz. A feeling of *something* occurring.

The buzz became a roar outside the suite. Possible alien sighting.

The news channel frenzy was like something harking back to the 29th century. But the footage captured was certainly engaging. Over the next few days, more Commanders had similar encounters and the the speculation engine was running rampant across a thousand light years.
For my own situation, I'm left wondering. Ignore, stay, run....or investigate. The call of the black is getting stronger. For now...procrastination.

 

[disorganise]

Belinda had never travelled more than a few light seconds. Barkeeping doesn't pay that well I guess. So I offered her a run up to the ancient ruins. Her smile lit the entire station.
Old mate Ram had put out a request for data from the site too, so expenses were effectively covered. Happy days

When we got back, Ram's payment took me by surprise. I don't know where he gets his money, but he obviously has some serious backing. 30mil! Wow. So I went to the shipyard to look for a 'Conda. The disappointment was immense when I found out just how expensive they are and how far away from affording one that I am. <sigh>

So I proposed a 'quick' trip to the centre. Black Betty got fitted with a passenger accommodation suite, and we found some crazy fool will to pay 35m just to go to some place 11 kylies away, roughly on the way to Sgr A*. No brainer.

Spoiler

UC paid me 20m for the cartographical data we handed in which was nice. But the real reward was from the pilots federation.

 

[Jermus]

Belinda had never travelled more than a few light seconds. Barkeeping doesn't pay that well I guess. So I offered her a run up to the ancient ruins. Her smile lit the entire station.
Old mate Ram had put out a request for data from the site too, so expenses were effectively covered. Happy days
http://i.imgur.com/Z3IJQfg.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/KyJhtj8.jpg

When we got back, Ram's payment took me by surprise. I don't know where he gets his money, but he obviously has some serious backing. 30mil! Wow. So I went to the shipyard to look for a 'Conda. The disappointment was immense when I found out just how expensive they are and how far away from affording one that I am. <sigh>

So I proposed a 'quick' trip to the centre. Black Betty got fitted with a passenger accommodation suite, and we found some crazy fool will to pay 35m just to go to some place 11 kylies away, roughly on the way to Sgr A*. No brainer.

Spoiler

http://i.imgur.com/HnWv4Z1.png

http://i.imgur.com/PCGOnsR.png

http://i.imgur.com/ck7h37X.jpg

http://i.imgur.com/YrbZ65e.png

http://i.imgur.com/WEmgZDz.png

http://i.imgur.com/zysiWqL.png

http://i.imgur.com/n6iqyVL.png

UC paid me 20m for the cartographical data we handed in which was nice. But the real reward was from the pilots federation.
http://i.imgur.com/HrBhScW.png

Oh, wow! Elite! Congratulations!

 

[disorganise]

Oh, wow! Elite! Congratulations!

Thanks mate, I'm pretty happy right now

 

[Corbin Moran]

Congratulations

 

[disorganise]

[crackle….pop] uh hum [tap click] testing testing. Is thing on? [whistle] yes. Good.



Commanders Log.

I'd forgotten about this log. Busy with life and too busy to realise how much time is passing by.
It's been quite a while I got back. And there's been some good adventures for sure. But the black beckons. I've started to head out several times now. But always seemed to get distracted by something.
And now…..now there’s something happening. A few months back Black Betty had an issue in hyperspace. I'd heard the stories of course. We all had. But nothing prepares you. Losing all power like that….it's intimidating.
They don’t say much, but it’s clear the higher powers are worried. Exploration payments have gone crazy and there's an underlying buzz of trigger happy expectation and pacifist dread.

It all started getting a bit real a few weeks ago. Distress calls that were….unusual

Spoiler

And then I noticed that there seems to be something odd happening within a capital ship

Spoiler

What *are* those growths?

Something very odd is going on, and it’s got a lot of people spooked. I’m torn between digging and getting back out there. The call of the deep black yonder is loud….but...a nagging need to find out more competes.
Restarting this diary seems logical. If only to keep me sane.

 

[disorganise]

The hunt for answers carried me far and wide. There's definitely some weird unexplained things out there! Like this little guy that turns your discovery scan back on itself to knock out the ship computer momentarily.

and these guys who sing a most intriguing tune

Old man Joe reckoned the Meta-alloys were worth grabbing from the "Barnacle" site. I'd never been, so it was worth a visit. More strangeness. Are they machines or living?

After a quick visit to Meene to restock the larder, Ram made me an offer I couldn't pass up. A ridiculous amount of money in exchange for some research at the ancient ruin sites.

Sure thing, Ram old mate, we can do that. When I returned, he kept his word even though I could tell he'd seen this information before. Maybe he thinks I'm struggling for a credit or two. Don't know why he'd think such a thing. Sure, I don't have *his* money, but I do allright. I've enough to kit out the ships how I want. But....a nest egg is useful. I'll send some of it back home to Ma. She can't complain about it being filthy imperial credits when it's coming from Ram.

When I got back, word was out that the new Wells class mega-ship had been completed and launched. Seems not very long ago we were transported the bare materials - they don't hang around that's for sure.
And what a beauty she is. Huge.....I mean HUGE! How this thing will go maneuvering is anyones guess. But....impressive.

 

[disorganise]

It's a fish apparently. Though it didn't taste like any fish I'd ever had before. Even the texture was a bit different. Does all Sol food taste this weird?

The payout from Ram had put me in a celebratory mood, and, let's be honest, I felt as if I was glimpsing into how the more affluent folks live.
Launching a new mega ship is always cause for celebration, but when it's the first of a new class, the party kicks into a whole other gear. The seriously wealthy always seem to be able to sniff out an opportunity to lay claim to some new corner of the galaxy, and the rest of us are all too eager to cash in on money being thrown about.
And the organisers had really gone to town this time. I'd never even heard of a Barramundi, let alone seen it on a menu, so I thought why not?

I was about half way through this meal that I was desperately trying to convince myself that I was enjoying, when the priority request came through.

Investigate some planetary 'anomaly' that some unreliable source had reported. "Affirmative. Ship's prepped. We can be 'go for departure' within the hour."

The natural panic associated with hyperspace was dealt with many thousands of jumps ago, so the prickling feeling on the back of the neck upon arrival stood out. Something didn't feel quite right. Which in itself is ludicrous - who believes in that rubbish anymore? But it was undeniable…...and immediately answered.


A distress beacon. Federation signature.

Dropping back to regular space, it was all too clear that this ship was not just in trouble. It had put up a fight and lost….badly.

As we got within close-range sensor and visual range, that prickle returned. Followed closely with alarm. Weapon signature ‘unknown’...and clearly exceptionally powerful.
I've no doubt there are a myriad of weapons that are above my rank and pay grade, but this was something else.
“Life-signs?” ‘none detected Commander’ “but that's impossible.” ‘yet fact Commander. Our scans reveal no life. At all. Basic ship status being broadcast with the distress signal confirms. Hazardous substances detected. The radiation is through the roof. In fact, the entire area is contaminated - that green “mist” in this area is seriously bad for your health. We should depart...stat’

 

[disorganise]

At first glimpse was it looked as though someone had tattooed the planet. The scale for it to be visible from orbit though....wow.

Approaching cautiously, the shapes look...organic. Sure low gravity would theoretically allow such a structure, but....

From the buggy, the true scale of the environment became much more apparent. This thing is enormous!

Scouting around proved to be enlightening. The entire area is cloaked in a mist that has a high ammonia content, and there are several bodies moving around. It is difficult to tell whether these bodies are machine or living, and neither ship nor SRV scanner could shed any additional light on the matter.
Approaching the central 'flower bud', the electrics on the buggy began to play up. The external spotlights refused to stay lit due to the dramatic reduction in overall power output from the power plant. Clearly, something was interfering.
But despite the low visibility, there seemed to be an apparent entry. Indeed, from a distance one of the 'scavengers' seem to enter the structure, but alas, my buggy could not. At least...initially it could not.

On a hunch, I grabbed the unknown artefact and probe from the hold and put them in the buggy. Perhaps their dispersion field would help trigger something.
And indeed they did.

The internal structure was equally strange, with organic elements seemingly fused with machinery

The central device appeared to be 'asking' for artifacts. And once supplied, it appeared to become active

What this means, or doesn't mean is way beyond my capacity to analyse. The data has been handed over to people with the resources to properly analyse this stuff.

In the meantime, it is abundantly clear we are not alone.

 

[disorganise]

Enforced leave? Stress. Hallucinations. Whatever.

So I found myself in semi isolation doing a bit of mining.
I put the noises down to the normal stresses of dropping to regular space, but it was evidently more serious.

With a 100t load of mixed metals, we manoeuvred 'Napples' away from the rings. Power to engines...retract the cargo hatch. Bzzz....whoosh.
What was that?
Bzzz....whoosh. Bzzz....whoosh. What the?
What's that on the scanner? Oh.....no.....
One by one my hold was emptying itself. Bzzz....whoosh.
No amount of cursing nor bashing of equipment could stem the flow. Even recapturing wouldn't help as it would eject again moments later. Doh.

 

[disorganise]

Isolation has been profitable....broken cargo hatch notwithstanding. I lost the alien artefacts that day, which initially bothered me greatly. But maybe it's for the best - just let it go, at least for now.

So I found myself being a bit of a Manic Miner. With Raylene, my ever watchful Defender, guarding my six, I felt pretty safe amongst those spinning Space Invaders

Clearly I ain't the only one either. Plenty of people making their homes in the Asteroids. Having to Scramble over pylons like a Luna Lander is an interesting departure for this Galaxian. The intricacies could make you go Berzerk.

Seems odd to be promoted for making money, but never-the-less, the Pilots Federation has indeed bestowed upon me the title of Tycoon.

 

[disorganise]

Peace. Blackness. Home.
It felt great to be on the way at last. And the view was becoming quite spectacular. Never been over this direction before so it was all new and shiney.
But….back the truck up…

The weeks of peaceful mining were not really that peaceful in the end. Pirates seem to follow me around like a bad smell.
‘What you hauling?’
“Nothing for you!”
‘Then you choose death!’
“Really? Do you have an emergency ejection capsule?”
‘Err, yes’
“Yet you think I wouldn't? In a ship many times bigger than yours”
‘Err….hand me the loot or I shoot!’


That's where Raylene would jump in. “Ahem…...depart or lose your ship. You have 5 seconds to comply”.
Initially, many chose to ignore the ever so slight menace in her otherwise pleasant request. Responses ranged from silence, through ss to outright cat calling. Some chose to simply open fire.
All made a mistake.
Raylene is an awesome fighter pilot and rarely gets a scratch.

With time, we got to know the local mining communities and were frequently asked for Raylene’s ‘protection’. I'm sure that was just a way of buttering her up at the local tavern, but we were happy to oblige. Old Bob gave us an old Kill Warrant Scanner that he had acquired from somewhere, and *that* was a turning point.

Suddenly, defending our friends became quite profitable as the various factions around the galaxy were only too happy to provide financial incentives to ruin the day of those who chose to reign misery.

Sadly, this started to work against us. Raylene was building quite the reputation for being ‘The crack shot with the velvet voice’ And combatants began flooding into our usual haunt to take their chances. This of course meant more unsavoury’s hanging around which in turn meant more and more attacks on our friends. We had to move on.

So we did a few weeks of freelance bounty hunting…..or, more accurately, hanging around resource sites fending off the more aggressive pirates. Money was good.
Then we started getting special missions offered to do the same work, but paying much more….no brainer right?

I guess complacency set it and some point. I was no longer thoroughly checking each contract in detail. And we ended up taking on a somewhat illegal mission in error. Sure, it was fully sanctioned by The Empire, but The Feds had a very different view.
First we knew was when the local system authorities arrived to help…. and opened fire upon us! Until the shields went offline, we thought they were just messing…. but it soon became all too real.
The smoking tail of Napples seemed to act like a beacon from that moment, and the interdiction rate ramped up way high. The situation was escalating…..badly for us. Napples is a strong ship, but she's no combat thoroughbred, and certainly not in these hands. Each encounter seemed to involve multiple fast ships that would dish out a good hiding before our FSD was ready to spool. We were losing...fast.

Limping into Empire space was an incredible relief. The raised eyebrow of traffic control the only clue as to their shock at seeing an Anaconda that must weigh little more than an Asp thanks to losing a few sections. The repair crews would certainly have their work cut out for a few weeks.

Touchdown. Bar. Inebriation.

T’pok suggested a change of pace. An independent project was being put together to map the outskirts of the galaxy. It would take a year and thus allow plenty of time for the dust to settle. Might even learn something. It'd been a few months since we returned to Sag A* with a paying passenger and the itch was certainly getting stronger.
And so Thunderstruck was refitted for long term travel. Felicity worked her magic to maximise jump range and we paid a visit to the Prof to run his eye over the thrusters and we're pretty much set.

I gave Raylene a choice. She could stay in the bubble and freelance until I got back, or, she was free to come join (technically she could also quit, but I didn't think that was on the cards). There's no fighter bay in the Clipper of course, and technically she isn't qualified for FTL piloting….but deep space doesn't have too many police either.

To my pleasure, she decided to come join me. Evidently the trip out to the centre had piqued her interest and she was keen to see what else is out there. ‘Besides, that seat looks amazing and you'll just get fat and lazy left to your own devices’. I don't remember when we got married.

And so we became roster #46 on the Independent Pilots, Dead End Circumnavigation Expedition. Let the adventures begin.

 

[Jermus]

Congrats on the marriage! That'll make the void a little less lonely .

Fly safe,
CMDR Jermus Karlsen

 

[disorganise]

‘Distinguished’
“You really think so?”
‘Well no. It's starting to look like you forgot what a razor looks like, but why should I care?’
“Well I'm liking it, so I guess you'll have to get used to it”

Dunno why I bothered asking her opinion to be honest. Validation? Vanity? I hadn't had a beard in years, so I thought I'd give it a whirl.

The ‘Emperor's Glory’ bar at Beaufoy Works (Morrow Peek, Aditi) was nothing unique. Just a regular bar like a thousand others, serving the same drinks and suffering from a general lack of support. The halcyon days of the Aditi Empire League have long since departed. Everytime a ship came in to land, flurry of paint specks would flutter from the ceiling…..awesome. :\
But we knew the patrons and staff well, having spent so much time here whilst hauling. Which meant we could trust everyone….important given our unfortunate standing in Federation space. Still can't believe I fell for that.

We were laying low whilst Thunderstruck was being serviced. Gutamaya had recently released their flavour of the Pilots Federation computer core update, and by all accounts it was worthwhile getting it done before we head out. And so here we were, exchanging ‘pleasantries’ once again.

‘She's ready’
“Whom?”
‘Not who, what’
“Say what now?”
‘Your ship sir, she's ready’
“No ways! Already?”
‘Of course sir, we aim to please. Long live the Emperor’
“Best we be on our way then. Thanks Genochi, see in year o7”
‘Fly safe Cmdr…..Hey Ray! You look after yourself, OK?’
“Thanks Gen’, keep a bottle of brown aside for me, you hear?”


The distance seemed to melt away fairly quickly at first. It'd been quite a while since my naive younger self had headed out this way full of bluster and adventure and believing he was the first to have such thoughts.

Hadn't quite been to this particular area, and the view was quite spectacular. Unfortunately, the new firmware was proving to be…..problematic. For some reason, the imaging system was being exceedingly temperamental, and would only take a small percentage of the shots requested.
Running Man Sector

Pyult JO-F d12-13

Qiedeau DP-I c25-10

Eventually, we made it to System X, another hollowed out asteroid which served as the station facilities, and was located very near the star.

System X has no ship facilities to speak of, but given the nature of station maintenance, there are always engineers hanging around. Rat’s charisma and good looks, and the 15m credits for system scan information, opened some unofficial doors. It looked like the camera module was faulty, and unfortunately, there were no spares here. But…...McVeigh had a solution. He'd sell us his module for the ridiculous fee of 500k credits. Absolute robbery, but it would save backtracking. And we did just cash in 15m so…..the swap was done. McVeigh would organise a replacement which would take a few weeks but he was in no hurry. Win win.

The galaxy was already starting to thin out. The upgraded navigational computer was theoretically capable of plotting much longer courses now, and had worked fairly well to System X, but the sparsity ahead was confounding it.
We knew of a ‘bridge’ and so reluctantly, we turned to head ‘west’

Groeg PJ-I d9-4 - WW

Some ten thousand or so light years from Sol, we dropped planetside for a break and an opportunity to restock some materials. It was obvious that we would eventually need ‘jumponium’, and our stocks of yttrium could do with topping up.

Groeg PD-K c8-0
The scanner was picking up something man made. It ought not be possible out here, but the scanner was picking up *something*.
After the weightlessness of space, the high gravity was affecting me, but I did not believe hallucinations were a symptom.
Eventually, we came upon:

The data core indicated a Federation origin, but was otherwise unrecoverable. Why was it here? There was nothing special about this system.