The day was appropriately cold, grey and grim, as you watched your grandfather's coffin be...
- Created
- Status
- Ongoing
- Watchers
- 10
- Recent readers
- 0
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
The day was appropriately cold, grey and grim, as you watched your grandfather's coffin be lowered into the earth. Around you, your entire extended family gathered about, paying their respects to the family patriarch, who had fallen afoul of a heart attack just after his final voyage across the star system. The coffin vanished into the earth, and you grabbed a shovel. You shoveled dirt into the hole in the cold earth, and tears ran down your face while you remembered the times the old man had taken you up on tours in his vessel, showing you the glories of the deepest darks of the universe.
I'm going to miss him.
---
It's time for the Reading of the Will. His will had been half-sealed - he had left directions for the funeral, but wished for the disbursement of his property to be carried out only after that. As you and the rest of the named beneficiaries sat, Granddad's attorney and your grandmother entered the room, taking their seats. The lawyer, Lawrence Masterson, looked appropriately grave. He may even have genuinely been sad - he and your grandfather had been friends for years. He opened the will, and began to speak.
"Hello, everyone. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting - let's get to it." he said, and cleared his throat.
"It is my will that my properties be distributed among my descendants and my wife, Anya. My house and the contents thereof shall go to her, as shall fifty percent of my financial assets, so that she need never worry about money or a roof over her head." That had been expected. He had doted on his wife, and if sixty-seven years of marriage, despite often being separated by light years, didn't prove that, nothing did.
"Secondly, my sons and daughters may split among themselves forty percent of my assets, ten percent apiece. My only request for them is that my son Benjamin receives my collection of wooden models, which he has admired since he was knee-high to a grasshopper." You watched your uncle bow his head, overcome with emotion, your aunt touching his arm to reassure him.
"To my grandchildren, the remaining ten percent of my financial assets will go to a trust fund that they may attend a school, on-or-off-world, of their choosing." Masterson continued; for a moment you thought he had finished, as he appeared to be looking for more to the will. He apparently found it, because then he continued on.
"And to my (Grandson/Granddaughter) (Name)... I have seen the same glint in your eyes that my own father once saw in mine, when I took you to tour the stars. You have a bit of the explorer in you. To you, I bequeath my ship, the Stark Vista." You almost couldn't breathe... he left you the Vista?
While your brain was processing this, Masterson finished. The rest of your family filed out, save your grandmother, while you sat there, blinking. Your grandmother sat next to you, taking your hand. You felt something cold and metallic press into your palm before she released it, and you looked down. In your hand was the tiny datastick which functioned as the key to the Vista. Wordlessly, you looked at your grandmother, who smiled at you.
"Your grandfather was right, you know... Every time he took you up in that battered ship of his, your eyes would be all a-glow, and every time you came back it would be all you could talk about for weeks on end. I'm glad he chose to give the ship to you - I think you'll get far better use out of it than any of the rest of us ever could." she said, and enveloped you in the same peppermint-scented hug you'd known since you were small. Suddenly, the world seemed a little less grim.
---
Arriving at the landing field, you made your way to Pad 39, where your grandfather's - your - ship was parked. Sitting there, as solid and reliable as ever, was the Stark Vista, a-
[]Deneb-class Freighter. A bit on the old side, the Vista, as a former fleet supply ship, nevertheless had a relatively decent internal cargo hold (even if she was a small ship, all things considered) adequate engines, and one light beam cannon. Your grandfather had made his money shuttling cargo independently for the agro-businesses on your planet or by docking a gas containment module and ferrying fusion fuel to the power plants.
[]Halcyon-class Fighter. Decidedly on the outdated side, this two-seater Earthling starfighter had been your grandfather's war trophy from the Secession, and eventually, turned into what had been the only law enforcement craft in the system until fairly recently. Despite its age, it was still very fast and maneuverable, lightly armored and armed with twin forward laser cannon.
Sighing, old memories surfacing in your head, you turned and trudged to the admin building, where you had to fill out the forms to get your own independent spacer ID card.
Character Creation
Name:
Gender:
Age: (Being younger has its ups and downsides, as does being older.)
Qualifications: (Skills by any other name! 20 pts for character creation. F is 0, D is 1 point, C is 2, B is 3, A is 4, and S is 5.)
Piloting: (How well you fly)
Engineering: (How well you can fix things that break)
Navigation: (How well you can maneuver the Hyperway)
Gunnery: (How well you can shoot)
Evasion: (How well you can avoid being shot)
Intelligence: (How well you process information)
Note: This game runs on FATE.
I'm going to miss him.
---
It's time for the Reading of the Will. His will had been half-sealed - he had left directions for the funeral, but wished for the disbursement of his property to be carried out only after that. As you and the rest of the named beneficiaries sat, Granddad's attorney and your grandmother entered the room, taking their seats. The lawyer, Lawrence Masterson, looked appropriately grave. He may even have genuinely been sad - he and your grandfather had been friends for years. He opened the will, and began to speak.
"Hello, everyone. I'm sorry to have kept you waiting - let's get to it." he said, and cleared his throat.
"It is my will that my properties be distributed among my descendants and my wife, Anya. My house and the contents thereof shall go to her, as shall fifty percent of my financial assets, so that she need never worry about money or a roof over her head." That had been expected. He had doted on his wife, and if sixty-seven years of marriage, despite often being separated by light years, didn't prove that, nothing did.
"Secondly, my sons and daughters may split among themselves forty percent of my assets, ten percent apiece. My only request for them is that my son Benjamin receives my collection of wooden models, which he has admired since he was knee-high to a grasshopper." You watched your uncle bow his head, overcome with emotion, your aunt touching his arm to reassure him.
"To my grandchildren, the remaining ten percent of my financial assets will go to a trust fund that they may attend a school, on-or-off-world, of their choosing." Masterson continued; for a moment you thought he had finished, as he appeared to be looking for more to the will. He apparently found it, because then he continued on.
"And to my (Grandson/Granddaughter) (Name)... I have seen the same glint in your eyes that my own father once saw in mine, when I took you to tour the stars. You have a bit of the explorer in you. To you, I bequeath my ship, the Stark Vista." You almost couldn't breathe... he left you the Vista?
While your brain was processing this, Masterson finished. The rest of your family filed out, save your grandmother, while you sat there, blinking. Your grandmother sat next to you, taking your hand. You felt something cold and metallic press into your palm before she released it, and you looked down. In your hand was the tiny datastick which functioned as the key to the Vista. Wordlessly, you looked at your grandmother, who smiled at you.
"Your grandfather was right, you know... Every time he took you up in that battered ship of his, your eyes would be all a-glow, and every time you came back it would be all you could talk about for weeks on end. I'm glad he chose to give the ship to you - I think you'll get far better use out of it than any of the rest of us ever could." she said, and enveloped you in the same peppermint-scented hug you'd known since you were small. Suddenly, the world seemed a little less grim.
---
Arriving at the landing field, you made your way to Pad 39, where your grandfather's - your - ship was parked. Sitting there, as solid and reliable as ever, was the Stark Vista, a-
[]Deneb-class Freighter. A bit on the old side, the Vista, as a former fleet supply ship, nevertheless had a relatively decent internal cargo hold (even if she was a small ship, all things considered) adequate engines, and one light beam cannon. Your grandfather had made his money shuttling cargo independently for the agro-businesses on your planet or by docking a gas containment module and ferrying fusion fuel to the power plants.
[]Halcyon-class Fighter. Decidedly on the outdated side, this two-seater Earthling starfighter had been your grandfather's war trophy from the Secession, and eventually, turned into what had been the only law enforcement craft in the system until fairly recently. Despite its age, it was still very fast and maneuverable, lightly armored and armed with twin forward laser cannon.
Sighing, old memories surfacing in your head, you turned and trudged to the admin building, where you had to fill out the forms to get your own independent spacer ID card.
Character Creation
Name:
Gender:
Age: (Being younger has its ups and downsides, as does being older.)
Qualifications: (Skills by any other name! 20 pts for character creation. F is 0, D is 1 point, C is 2, B is 3, A is 4, and S is 5.)
Piloting: (How well you fly)
Engineering: (How well you can fix things that break)
Navigation: (How well you can maneuver the Hyperway)
Gunnery: (How well you can shoot)
Evasion: (How well you can avoid being shot)
Intelligence: (How well you process information)
Note: This game runs on FATE.
XkaliburRage
Perpetual Procrastinator
Question since I know jack all about fate: We can improve any of these if we level-up or do something similar, right?
- Location
- 18th Century Victorian England duh
[X]Halcyon-class Fighter. Decidedly on the outdated side, this two-seater Earthling starfighter had been your grandfather's war trophy from the Secession, and eventually, turned into what had been the only law enforcement craft in the system until fairly recently. Despite its age, it was still very fast and maneuverable, lightly armored and armed with twin forward laser cannon.
[X]Name: Jamie
[X]Gender: Female
[X]Age: 25
[X]Qualifications:
Piloting: B
Engineering: B
Navigation: B
Gunnery: B
Evasion: S
Intelligence: B
I prioritized Evasion, as that's kind of our last defense to stay alive. Fighter ship because all of my yes. And I think 25 years old should be a nice compromise. Young, but not too young.
[X]Name: Jamie
[X]Gender: Female
[X]Age: 25
[X]Qualifications:
Piloting: B
Engineering: B
Navigation: B
Gunnery: B
Evasion: S
Intelligence: B
I prioritized Evasion, as that's kind of our last defense to stay alive. Fighter ship because all of my yes. And I think 25 years old should be a nice compromise. Young, but not too young.
Last edited:
Are we uh, using the skill pyramid? Because if so my skill choices probably don't work with that...
Character Creation
Name: Talbot
Gender: M
Age: 25
Qualifications: (Skills by any other name! 20 pts for character creation. F is 0, D is 1 point, C is 2, B is 3, A is 4, and S is 5.)
Piloting: B
Engineering: A
Navigation: A
Gunnery: D
Evasion: B
Intelligence: S
[X]Deneb-class Freighter. A bit on the old side, the Vista, as a former fleet supply ship, nevertheless had a relatively decent internal cargo hold (even if she was a small ship, all things considered) adequate engines, and one light beam cannon. Your grandfather had made his money shuttling cargo independently for the agro-businesses on your planet or by docking a gas containment module and ferrying fusion fuel to the power plants.
Your grandfather was right: ever since you were small the sheer opportunity presented by his ship astounded you. Meeting new people and seeing new places. The possibility of riches and luxury. Exploration and salvage. More fancifully, duels with pirates in the rings of a gas giant. You've always been an intelligent kid, with a knack for navigation: now you want nothing more than to take this vessel and see how far away from home you can get. It's a big galaxy, after all.
grassyhyuuga
ash-hole
- Location
- hasetsu
[X] Iron Wolf
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Yes. There will be opportunities to improve your stats. How many, I can't say.
We are not. Specifically because I can't find mention of a "skill pyramid" in the Fate Core rulebook. (Which probably means it's in Spark of Fate. I'll get back to you on that.)
Last edited:
They use skill columns. Go check the "advancement" section for more info, but as a basic explanation:
Here's an example of what a "correct" skill column might look like:
| S | Skill | |||
| A | Skill | |||
| B | Skill | Skill | Skill | |
| C | Skill | Skill | Skill | |
| D | Skill | Skill | Skill | Skill |
| F |
| S | Intelligence | |
| A | Engineering | Navigation |
| B | Evasion | Piloting |
| C | Gunnery | NO SUPPORTING SKILL |
| D | NO SUPPORTING SKILL | NO SUPPORTING SKILL |
| F |
Or just ignore this because I feel like it probably fucks everything up. FATE Core is basically designed around you being allowed to ignore sections of the rulebook if you so desire.
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
Or just ignore this because I feel like it probably fucks everything up. FATE Core is basically designed around you being allowed to ignore sections of the rulebook if you so desire.
I think we'll go with ignoring that bit.
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
(Note: This also counts as the Reference Sheet for your character. I'll update it as things happen.)
Upon reaching the admin building, you greeted the receptionist. She waved back. The two of you had met several times before.
"What can I do for you, Talbot?" she asked.
"I'm here to fill out the papers for my independent spacer's ID. " you said, pulling your copy of the newly-changed over title to the Vista from the pocket of your jacket. Handing it to her, you continued. "My granddad left me the Vista when he... passed." you finished, managing to get the last word out without too much of a hitch.
The look she gave you was sympathetic, but she didn't press on it. She simply said, "I'm sorry to hear he passed; he always had a story to tell." she said, then, with a flick of her wrist, brought her holo-screen to life, verified the title and handed you the datapad with the ID form on it with a small smile. Nodding to her, you found yourself a seat in the lobby and began filling out your particulars with the stylus.
--- Frontier Systems Independent Spacer Identification Card ---
Name: Talbot
Gender: M
Age: 25
Homeworld: New Hebrides
Qualifications and Exam Results:
Piloting: B
Engineering: A
Navigation: A
Gunnery: D
Evasion: B
Intelligence: S
Owner of:
FSMS Stark Vista
Size Class: Tramp Freighter
Type: Deneb-class Fleet Resupply Ship, demilitarized
Subtype: Freight
Power Supply: 150MW Reece-Collins Fusor
Max Sublight Accel: 100 m/s2
Max Hyperway Velocity: 1400 c
Internal Cargo Stowage Capacity: 4000 m3
External Tow Capacity: Yes
Armament:
- 1 - RW-12 50MW Continuous Particle Stream Emitter, turreted, dorsal
F.A.T.E. (Frontier Astronomical Transport Executive) Points: 0
Your grandfather was right: ever since you were small the sheer opportunity presented by his ship astounded you. Meeting new people and seeing new places. The possibility of riches and luxury. Exploration and salvage. More fancifully, duels with pirates in the rings of a gas giant. You've always been an intelligent kid, with a knack for navigation: now you want nothing more than to take this vessel and see how far away from home you can get. It's a big galaxy, after all.
--- Frontier Systems Independent Spacer Identification Card ---
You finished the form, handed the datapad back to the receptionist, bid her goodbye, and returned home to wait.
---
You didn't have to wait long. Within three days, your ID card arrived via your family's mail-printer. The plastoid slate resting comfortably in your pocket, you headed to the Vista to take her out on her first run under your command. Upon boarding, you found everything more or less the same as the last time you'd left it - crew quarters for five, cramped galley, engineering spaces, and your favorite place on the ship - the bridge. It, too, was cramped and slightly shabby, but it had a control station for the hyperdrive and sublights, a cot for the pilot or copilot to sleep on, and a hyper-com enabled computer for linking into the Extranet that tied all the systems of humanity together.
With a sigh, you settled yourself into the pilot's chair - comfortable, almost sinfully so, but it had be due to the long hours a pilot could spend there. The shock webbing checked out okay, upon inspection - not that you expected to need to dogfight with pirates quite yet. Suppressing a chuckle, you bent your considerable intelligence towards deciding what you were going to do next.
[]Ascend to the orbital station. Traders, fighters and rogues of all kinds gather there, thanks to the presence of the local Jobs Bureau, where anyone could post an offer for a local job to the system's independent spacers. You could probably find some work. Doubtless your grandfather had contacts who kept him in supply - maybe they could bend a few good assignments your way?
[]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
[]Write-in.
Upon reaching the admin building, you greeted the receptionist. She waved back. The two of you had met several times before.
"What can I do for you, Talbot?" she asked.
"I'm here to fill out the papers for my independent spacer's ID. " you said, pulling your copy of the newly-changed over title to the Vista from the pocket of your jacket. Handing it to her, you continued. "My granddad left me the Vista when he... passed." you finished, managing to get the last word out without too much of a hitch.
The look she gave you was sympathetic, but she didn't press on it. She simply said, "I'm sorry to hear he passed; he always had a story to tell." she said, then, with a flick of her wrist, brought her holo-screen to life, verified the title and handed you the datapad with the ID form on it with a small smile. Nodding to her, you found yourself a seat in the lobby and began filling out your particulars with the stylus.
--- Frontier Systems Independent Spacer Identification Card ---
Name: Talbot
Gender: M
Age: 25
Homeworld: New Hebrides
Qualifications and Exam Results:
Piloting: B
Engineering: A
Navigation: A
Gunnery: D
Evasion: B
Intelligence: S
Owner of:
FSMS Stark Vista
Size Class: Tramp Freighter
Type: Deneb-class Fleet Resupply Ship, demilitarized
Subtype: Freight
Power Supply: 150MW Reece-Collins Fusor
Max Sublight Accel: 100 m/s2
Max Hyperway Velocity: 1400 c
Internal Cargo Stowage Capacity: 4000 m3
External Tow Capacity: Yes
Armament:
- 1 - RW-12 50MW Continuous Particle Stream Emitter, turreted, dorsal
F.A.T.E. (Frontier Astronomical Transport Executive) Points: 0
Your grandfather was right: ever since you were small the sheer opportunity presented by his ship astounded you. Meeting new people and seeing new places. The possibility of riches and luxury. Exploration and salvage. More fancifully, duels with pirates in the rings of a gas giant. You've always been an intelligent kid, with a knack for navigation: now you want nothing more than to take this vessel and see how far away from home you can get. It's a big galaxy, after all.
--- Frontier Systems Independent Spacer Identification Card ---
You finished the form, handed the datapad back to the receptionist, bid her goodbye, and returned home to wait.
---
You didn't have to wait long. Within three days, your ID card arrived via your family's mail-printer. The plastoid slate resting comfortably in your pocket, you headed to the Vista to take her out on her first run under your command. Upon boarding, you found everything more or less the same as the last time you'd left it - crew quarters for five, cramped galley, engineering spaces, and your favorite place on the ship - the bridge. It, too, was cramped and slightly shabby, but it had a control station for the hyperdrive and sublights, a cot for the pilot or copilot to sleep on, and a hyper-com enabled computer for linking into the Extranet that tied all the systems of humanity together.
With a sigh, you settled yourself into the pilot's chair - comfortable, almost sinfully so, but it had be due to the long hours a pilot could spend there. The shock webbing checked out okay, upon inspection - not that you expected to need to dogfight with pirates quite yet. Suppressing a chuckle, you bent your considerable intelligence towards deciding what you were going to do next.
[]Ascend to the orbital station. Traders, fighters and rogues of all kinds gather there, thanks to the presence of the local Jobs Bureau, where anyone could post an offer for a local job to the system's independent spacers. You could probably find some work. Doubtless your grandfather had contacts who kept him in supply - maybe they could bend a few good assignments your way?
[]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
[]Write-in.
- Location
- 18th Century Victorian England duh
[X]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
[X]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
Do we have friends we can call? We should start assembling a motley crew ASAP.
Do we have friends we can call? We should start assembling a motley crew ASAP.
- Location
- 18th Century Victorian England duh
No, we shall start gathering our crew of misfits as we go about our wackey space adventures.
grassyhyuuga
ash-hole
- Location
- hasetsu
[X]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]Shakedown cruise. The Vista might have been flown recently, but there's no reason you shouldn't check everything out to make sure it works. A quick loop around the system, a jog through the asteroid belt, and back to New Hebrides before taking on the universe.
"Alright, let's take her out for a spin." you mutter to yourself, running through the preflights and getting ahold of Astro Control.
"Astro Control, this is the Stark Vista, lifting off from Dublin Field, requesting an update on current traffic conditions in LHO."
"Stark Vista, Astro Control. Your ascent window is currently clear of traffic; there is heavy traffic near McBride Station." As usual. You can almost hear the unspoken words die on the controller's lips before he continues on. "Once you get beyond LHO, be on the lookout for the Emerald Interstellar convoy passing through your vector in MHO. Beyond that, you're clear."
"Much appreciated, Astro. Stark Vista out." you reply, contemplating where you might go after clearing orbit. A run through the asteroid belt would give you enough time to put the systems through their paces before putting the ship itself through them, so you could find any kinks in the hardware or the software while you were still near station and its tugs.
The view outside the Vista quickly began to change as you ascended - going from a light blue to a bright, sunstreaked vista - and then you could see the curvature of New Hebrides. Beyond that lay a great, rapidly darkening void - your destination. Unlike in the days of chemical rockets, you could barely perceive your acceleration, though you were already approaching escape velocity.
Then you were free of the atmosphere, and the stars popped out as if by magic. Out your left viewport, spinward from you, you could see the multi-kilometer bulk of McBride Station - a massively productive conglomeration of warehouses, shipyards and depots, factories and living space. Nearly three quarters of a million people lived there - roughly a hundredth the number of those who lived below.
I'm going to need to pay that station a visit when I'm done, you thought to yourself. Right now, though, you just enjoyed the view as you slung your ship into orbit.
Sure enough, when you got into mid-Hebridean orbit, there was a convoy of Emerald freighters and escorts passing through. They were ten kilometers away at their closest approach, but ten kilometers was knife fighting range in stellar terms. Two of their escorts - hundred-fifty meter long Thereaux A-90 corvettes: lean, sleek, lethal forms armed with missile and beam - peeled off and began to interrogate your IFF. Checking your codes, you made sure they were up to date and broadcasting your merchant status to the corporate security people behind the controls of the A-90s. Satisfied, the corvettes returned to their lumbering charges.
I wonder what they're hauling? you asked yourself. There were four mammoth three kilometer star barges making their way to McBride, and easily a dozen corvettes in escort. You shook your head. "Probably just boring, normal things." you said, almost wistfully. In your mind, though, you knew exactly what mountains of credits those cargoes would bring their owners. You wished they were yours.
With a deft hand, you make your way to the asteroid belt, taking the time to go over every system with a fine toothed comb. You always had been a true natural with a tool kit, a prodigy of an engineer. And as robust as the Vista was, you had no problem adjusting the few instruments and devices which were out of tolerance. Satisfied, you put aside the checklist and the ship's manual, and you smiled to yourself as you thought of what lay ahead - the asteroid field. While the asteroids might not - usually - be as clumped together as the holovids portrayed them to be, they could still be a challenge to navigate through.
As you neared the asteroid, you watched your sensors just as much as your viewscreen. Which is why you managed to catch the smallest hint of a return, hiding behind an asteroid... or maybe in it?
What will you do?
[]Investigate
[]Ignore it and continue on
[]Reverse thrust and return to New Hebrides
[]Write-in
"Alright, let's take her out for a spin." you mutter to yourself, running through the preflights and getting ahold of Astro Control.
"Astro Control, this is the Stark Vista, lifting off from Dublin Field, requesting an update on current traffic conditions in LHO."
"Stark Vista, Astro Control. Your ascent window is currently clear of traffic; there is heavy traffic near McBride Station." As usual. You can almost hear the unspoken words die on the controller's lips before he continues on. "Once you get beyond LHO, be on the lookout for the Emerald Interstellar convoy passing through your vector in MHO. Beyond that, you're clear."
"Much appreciated, Astro. Stark Vista out." you reply, contemplating where you might go after clearing orbit. A run through the asteroid belt would give you enough time to put the systems through their paces before putting the ship itself through them, so you could find any kinks in the hardware or the software while you were still near station and its tugs.
The view outside the Vista quickly began to change as you ascended - going from a light blue to a bright, sunstreaked vista - and then you could see the curvature of New Hebrides. Beyond that lay a great, rapidly darkening void - your destination. Unlike in the days of chemical rockets, you could barely perceive your acceleration, though you were already approaching escape velocity.
Then you were free of the atmosphere, and the stars popped out as if by magic. Out your left viewport, spinward from you, you could see the multi-kilometer bulk of McBride Station - a massively productive conglomeration of warehouses, shipyards and depots, factories and living space. Nearly three quarters of a million people lived there - roughly a hundredth the number of those who lived below.
I'm going to need to pay that station a visit when I'm done, you thought to yourself. Right now, though, you just enjoyed the view as you slung your ship into orbit.
Sure enough, when you got into mid-Hebridean orbit, there was a convoy of Emerald freighters and escorts passing through. They were ten kilometers away at their closest approach, but ten kilometers was knife fighting range in stellar terms. Two of their escorts - hundred-fifty meter long Thereaux A-90 corvettes: lean, sleek, lethal forms armed with missile and beam - peeled off and began to interrogate your IFF. Checking your codes, you made sure they were up to date and broadcasting your merchant status to the corporate security people behind the controls of the A-90s. Satisfied, the corvettes returned to their lumbering charges.
I wonder what they're hauling? you asked yourself. There were four mammoth three kilometer star barges making their way to McBride, and easily a dozen corvettes in escort. You shook your head. "Probably just boring, normal things." you said, almost wistfully. In your mind, though, you knew exactly what mountains of credits those cargoes would bring their owners. You wished they were yours.
With a deft hand, you make your way to the asteroid belt, taking the time to go over every system with a fine toothed comb. You always had been a true natural with a tool kit, a prodigy of an engineer. And as robust as the Vista was, you had no problem adjusting the few instruments and devices which were out of tolerance. Satisfied, you put aside the checklist and the ship's manual, and you smiled to yourself as you thought of what lay ahead - the asteroid field. While the asteroids might not - usually - be as clumped together as the holovids portrayed them to be, they could still be a challenge to navigate through.
As you neared the asteroid, you watched your sensors just as much as your viewscreen. Which is why you managed to catch the smallest hint of a return, hiding behind an asteroid... or maybe in it?
What will you do?
[]Investigate
[]Ignore it and continue on
[]Reverse thrust and return to New Hebrides
[]Write-in
- Location
- Canada
[X]Investigate
- Location
- 18th Century Victorian England duh
[X]Investigate
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]Investigate
Resolve setting in, you urge the Vista forward, moving her into position to get a better view of the aft end of the tumbling asteroid.
Which seems to have been a bad idea, as your warning sensors immediately begin clamoring for your attention, alerting you to radar and lidar emissions taking particular interest in your own personal self. Then your sensors get the full picture of what's laying behind the rock - a battered, still perfectly serviceable corvette, currently locking you up with its weapons batteries.
Wow, you guys' rolls sucked here.
Your comms crackle. "Power down and prepare to be boarded." says a gruff voice on the other end.
You've got about five seconds, give or take, to decide what to do next...
[]Flight (Evasion)
[]Fight (Piloting/Gunnery)
[]Freeze (Comply while calling for Frontier Security patrols)
[]Write-in
Resolve setting in, you urge the Vista forward, moving her into position to get a better view of the aft end of the tumbling asteroid.
Which seems to have been a bad idea, as your warning sensors immediately begin clamoring for your attention, alerting you to radar and lidar emissions taking particular interest in your own personal self. Then your sensors get the full picture of what's laying behind the rock - a battered, still perfectly serviceable corvette, currently locking you up with its weapons batteries.
Wow, you guys' rolls sucked here.
Your comms crackle. "Power down and prepare to be boarded." says a gruff voice on the other end.
You've got about five seconds, give or take, to decide what to do next...
[]Flight (Evasion)
[]Fight (Piloting/Gunnery)
[]Freeze (Comply while calling for Frontier Security patrols)
[]Write-in
Last edited:
- Location
- 18th Century Victorian England duh
[X]Flight (Evasion)
- Location
- Canada
[X]Flight (Evasion)
[X]Flight (Evasion)
-[X] Try to spot some markings or something on this corvette. Let's figure out who they are.
-[x] Call for assistance...
(Our gunnery is a Rank D... And it's a corvette, which I mentally classify as a small ship used to chase down smugglers or serve as the outer defense ring on fleet formations... Unless we can get him to smash into an asteroid, we can't out fight him, and we can't likely outrun him.)
-[X] Try to spot some markings or something on this corvette. Let's figure out who they are.
-[x] Call for assistance...
(Our gunnery is a Rank D... And it's a corvette, which I mentally classify as a small ship used to chase down smugglers or serve as the outer defense ring on fleet formations... Unless we can get him to smash into an asteroid, we can't out fight him, and we can't likely outrun him.)
Shadows
Sacred Priestess of the Benevolent Dice Gods
- Location
- USS Civilian, DDG-214
- Pronouns
- She/Her
[X]Flight (Evasion)
-[X] Try to spot some markings or something on this corvette. Let's figure out who they are.
-[x] Call for assistance...
"Shiiiiit..." you mutter to yourself, laying your ship over sunward, thrusting directly away from the apparently hostile corvette. Pushing the thrust column forward to the stops, you begin working the Vista for all she's worth. At the same time, your free hand flips the comms switch. "Mayday mayday, this is the FSMS Stark Vista requesting assistance; I am under attack by pirates..."
That transmission is punctuated with the howl of your missile launch warning alarm, and your eyes snap to a screen to your right, showing a view of your stern. Toggling another switch, the stern view becomes a radar screen, showing the incoming missile charging towards you, gaining on you at nearly a kilometer per second velocity. The missile launch warning alarm sounds again, showing a second outbound trace from the corvette heading towards you.
"I repeat, this is the Stark Vista, and I have been fired upon!" you speak into the comms as calmly as possible while a plan comes to your mind. The missile closes. Two seconds before it would hit, by your estimation, you slam on your reverse and dorsal thrusters, killing your forward momentum and sharply shoving the Vista up and away from the missile's track. With its massive pre-existing acceleration, it very simply can't turn to hit you, and goes flying on into the darkness of space before self-destructing some ten kilometers in front of you. The second missile closes on you, and you trust the computer with your life as it guides the beam cannon across the missile's fragile warhead, obliterating it in a column of coherent particles.
"Stark Vista, this is the New Hebrides System Security Force. We have you on our screens, and have back traced two missile tracks from you. Standby for jump emergence." calls a gravelly voice over your comms, and your eyes snap to your visual display. Not a kilometer in front of you, a huge -to your eyes - jump window opens, spewing forth the bulky shape of a destroyer, starfighters detaching themselves from her hull. "Viper Squadron, engage the pirate corvette."
Training an optical pickup on the corvette now far astern, you can see no markings that you can readily identify; it's a dark grey ship, winged like a fighter writ large, with a bulky midsection that houses the subcapital missile tubes that comprise its primary offensive armament. You watch it turn away from you and begin to thrust away from the dozen lean and hungry fighters coming to kill it, point defense lasers spinning up and spitting shafts of deadly light at the little craft. One takes a direct hit, but the - are those Perseus fighters? - sleek little craft's shield shrugs it off, and the squadron begins salvoing shipkillers. The PDLs switch from the fighters to the missiles, but cannot keep up. One by one they begin to break through, though individually, they can't do much to a shielded ship. Collectively, and helped by a massive main gun shot from the destroyer, they break through the shield and begin to tear the pirate apart. It opens a jump window, but turns into a flaming, spinning, disintegrating fireball before it even reaches the event horizon.
-[X] Try to spot some markings or something on this corvette. Let's figure out who they are.
-[x] Call for assistance...
"Shiiiiit..." you mutter to yourself, laying your ship over sunward, thrusting directly away from the apparently hostile corvette. Pushing the thrust column forward to the stops, you begin working the Vista for all she's worth. At the same time, your free hand flips the comms switch. "Mayday mayday, this is the FSMS Stark Vista requesting assistance; I am under attack by pirates..."
That transmission is punctuated with the howl of your missile launch warning alarm, and your eyes snap to a screen to your right, showing a view of your stern. Toggling another switch, the stern view becomes a radar screen, showing the incoming missile charging towards you, gaining on you at nearly a kilometer per second velocity. The missile launch warning alarm sounds again, showing a second outbound trace from the corvette heading towards you.
"I repeat, this is the Stark Vista, and I have been fired upon!" you speak into the comms as calmly as possible while a plan comes to your mind. The missile closes. Two seconds before it would hit, by your estimation, you slam on your reverse and dorsal thrusters, killing your forward momentum and sharply shoving the Vista up and away from the missile's track. With its massive pre-existing acceleration, it very simply can't turn to hit you, and goes flying on into the darkness of space before self-destructing some ten kilometers in front of you. The second missile closes on you, and you trust the computer with your life as it guides the beam cannon across the missile's fragile warhead, obliterating it in a column of coherent particles.
"Stark Vista, this is the New Hebrides System Security Force. We have you on our screens, and have back traced two missile tracks from you. Standby for jump emergence." calls a gravelly voice over your comms, and your eyes snap to your visual display. Not a kilometer in front of you, a huge -to your eyes - jump window opens, spewing forth the bulky shape of a destroyer, starfighters detaching themselves from her hull. "Viper Squadron, engage the pirate corvette."
Training an optical pickup on the corvette now far astern, you can see no markings that you can readily identify; it's a dark grey ship, winged like a fighter writ large, with a bulky midsection that houses the subcapital missile tubes that comprise its primary offensive armament. You watch it turn away from you and begin to thrust away from the dozen lean and hungry fighters coming to kill it, point defense lasers spinning up and spitting shafts of deadly light at the little craft. One takes a direct hit, but the - are those Perseus fighters? - sleek little craft's shield shrugs it off, and the squadron begins salvoing shipkillers. The PDLs switch from the fighters to the missiles, but cannot keep up. One by one they begin to break through, though individually, they can't do much to a shielded ship. Collectively, and helped by a massive main gun shot from the destroyer, they break through the shield and begin to tear the pirate apart. It opens a jump window, but turns into a flaming, spinning, disintegrating fireball before it even reaches the event horizon.