// This is my spiritual submission to the Second Story Jam with the theme of perseverance but not an official submission as it was long after the deadline. I had the idea and haven't written in many years so will just spew words out to get it out of my head. It's my love letter to the days of heavy server activity in California where the trade lane between Planet Mojave and the Cali-NY jump gate were the hot spot of pirate activity and it took great perseverance as a trader to get from one end to the other without paying any of the pirates. And to give some RP to the silent transports that always ignored the very reasonable pirate requests.
817 A.S.
*TRADE LANE DISRUPTED*
The computer screeched these words as the Stork violently decelerated to the side of the trade lane channel.
“Urrrggghhhh” the captain groaned once he and the bridge crew had stabilised the ship and their stomachs. The body never got used to trade lane disruptions, especially so early into the acceleration that already made everyone feel woozy at the best of times.
They didn’t need the sensors to tell them what was responsible: a Liberty Rogue Barghest bomber had parked itself next to the trade lane and was now thrusting itself directly towards them.
A voice came over the speakers. “You know the drill captain” it said, almost bored. “Two million credits or die. How many crew do you have on board? Would hate to make more widows and orphans today.”
Why didn’t he pay for the Bounty Hunter who’d been offering protection on the New York side? The trade lanes between the New York jump gate and Mojave were the worst in Liberty. He’d had the good fortune to have never needed to use them until now, normally flying a stable route between Houston and Stuttgart where the Unioners and Bundschuh were so busy debating each other’s politics that they let a “fellow worker” continue by without incident.
He didn’t pay for the Bounty Hunter escort for the same reason he wasn’t going to pay this pirate: he was a stubborn, proud, credit-pincher who had nothing to lose. His life was his work. He didn’t care if his new temporary crew for this one time western Liberty outing, whose names he hadn’t even bothered to learn yet, were as fortunate to have avoided the pitfalls of lives outside of work. And why hadn’t Interspace paid for an escort in the first place!? Why was he expected to fork over his own money!? To line their pockets!? Maybe he’d been listening to the political debates in Rheinland a bit too closely…
The Barghest was drifting along the side of the Stork, keeping its nose facing its prey, ready to strike at a moment’s disobedience. Unaware of the rage consuming the mind of the captain. “Last chance.”
The bridge crew watched their captain. Unlike the Rogue they could see what was happening to him, and they were terrified. His veins bulged on the sides of his head, he groaned and moaned and thrashed, staring at each of them in turn with unfiltered aggression. Building up to his command.
“Open fire!” he shouted at his turret commander, as he punched the thruster controls on his chair to lurch the ship forward. A quick turn of the wheel brought the Stork in line with the trade lane entry point as the ship reached its maximum speed. The turrets had locked onto their target and were now spraying nearby space with energy blasts.
“Fine, more junk for the Junkers!” the Rogue shouted through the speakers. The sensors showed it dart sharply to the side to come around for a bombing run, shields blanketed by Stork cannon fire that it struggled to avoid due to the Barghest’s girth.
The battle soon swung to the other side as the bomber completed its turn and began its attack run. The Stork shuddered as its shield was peppered with Bomber EMP blasts, draining the generators. The captain kept his eyes on the shield level: he knew what this bomber was planning to do and intended to give him no opportunity.
*SHIELD FAILED*
“Shield batteries, now!” he screamed as soon as the computer began its announcement, not caring who followed the order. One of the crew’s arms sharply motioned to a control panel and pressed a big blue button.
The crew had barely noticed the shields background noise disappear before the generator hummed back to life just in time before the Supernova Antimatter Cannon shot careened into them.
*SHIELD REST- SHIELD FAILED*
The Barghest flew past the rear of the Stork, the pilot cursing that his decisive blow had been blocked, and began turning around for another run.
“Shield batteries!” the captain screamed. The crewman pressed the big blue button again but the computer’s sultry voice delivered no good news. “We’re out of shield batteries, they understocked us!” the crewman wailed back in anguish. The captain released a roar of fury as he kept the ship on course.
Good news: the trade lane was online again. Bad news: had they been slightly quicker to the lane, a passing ship’s incredible speed would’ve wiped them out. The roar’s pitch rose sharply as the captain saw the ship pass. Every muscle clenched in terror, and he began screaming curses at the ship as he slammed his first on his armrest madly with one hand and lined the Stork up with the other.
*SHIELD RESTORED*
Thump thump thump.
*SHIELD FAILED*
The Barghest was back. Stork cannon fire had broken through its shield and the pilot was having a hard time aiming as the blinding flashes of energy hitting the hull blocked their vision. It had given up using the SNAC, instead firing Energy Cannons forward in the hopes of hitting the Stork with enough to cut its engines. And who needed to see when torpedoes saw for you?
*INCOMING TORPEDO*
“Get in the lane you piece of junk!” the captain’s voice was giving up, fear clenching him again as the beeping of the torpedo alarm grew in frequency and every bump against the shield could be the last. He held onto the armrests and thrust himself forward in the chair as if that would help the ship move faster.
Maybe it did. The Stork entered the lane as the torpedo alarm beeping frequency matched the crew’s pulse, and it began to trickle away as the ship accelerated.
The crew cheered triumphantly as they lurched forward with the ship’s acceleration.
*TRADE LANE DISRUPTED*
The adrenaline combined with the sudden acceleration and deceleration made them all throw up. The Stork’s spindly cargo support beam buckled and the ship groaned as it violently jerked to the side of the lane again.
In front of them was a massacre: over the comms they heard the final scream of the DSE Rhino’s crew as it was destroyed. Two Lane Hacker Vindicators had been about to enjoy the spoils of their victory, but now turned towards the Stork.
*SHIELD RESTORED*
The captain, vomit drooling from his mouth, slammed his fist on the thrusters as he shouted at his turret commander “Light them up, light all of them up do it do it kill them all!”. The commander looked like he wanted to say something but thought better of it, instead turning to his console and pressing buttons.
The Stork thrust towards the lane, almost lined up. The Vindicators dived in, not even bothering to make demands as the transport had made its intentions very clear. Their weapons were more suited to attacking smaller ships but they still bit down hard
*SHIELD FAILED*
The captain was frothing at the mouth in passionate fury, the crew being knocked about as the hull was peppered with fighter shots.
*HULL BREACH IMMINENT*
“Just die already!” the captain was barely articulate at this point, but the ship was lined up. With a muscle memory precision he docked the ship into the lane and they felt the acceleration again with the Lane Hackers left behind.
The Stork reached Mojave, coming out of the bottom of the lane as a Bowex Shire was lining up to enter the lane above.
“Stop! Don’t enter that lane!” the captain moaned through the ship intercom, his fingers barely able to hold down the button. “There are Lane Hackers and Rogues! We barely got our ship and cargo out alive!”
The Bowex ship stopped its docking procedure into the lane, now oddly positioned. A few seconds passed. Then a voice crackled through the speakers.
“Umm with respect good sir: what cargo?”
Wide-eyed with terror, the captain brought up the ship diagnostic map as the turret commander sheepishly looked anywhere except at the captain. His eyes moved from the front of the ship with the bridge and engines, down through to the rest of the crew section, and then at the cargo section… if there had still been a cargo section.
[17:45:39] Wolfs Ghost (Murphy): Tom, you have problems. Go kill yourself.
[19:25:12] Johnny (Jam): Tomtom, I will beat you with a spoon.
[14:22:56] Prarabdh Thakur: KILL HIM WITH A SHEEP.
[17:40:48] Eagle (Junes): Tom should be slapped with a spoon.
[11:32:18] Warspite: Thank you for being so awesome Tom. <3
[18:17:36] Metano: I love you tomtom
[20:06:24] Warspite: I will seriously give you epic head.
' Wrote:Edit: also, Tomtomrawr, fappin' like a boss.
