Xeno Alliance communications (iRP) (FO)

[centauri5pirate]

COMM ID: DESERT MOJAVE
ACCESS ID: 116261E

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

MESSAGE COMMENCING......

At 0530 Hours, myself and Jonathan "Death Adder" Jones paired up to interdict trade at the New York Jumpgate. We intercepted a trade ship identified as "Quagmire". He complied with our orders to stop and was subsequently ordered to drop his cargo of gate/lane parts bound for New London. After we turned down a cash bribe, he grudgingly agreed, and emptied his hold. We immediately destroyed it, and he was allowed to pass. Luckily, my onboard communication recorder was recently fixed and I was able to record the entire conversation.

*uploading links*







We then proceeded to stop another ship, which was almost successful until an Ageira gunboat showed up. After much turmoil, I was once again shown the vacuum of space. After just getting out of the hospital, I now need to return for some burn treatments and figure out how to explain to my superiors I lost another ship.

That is all.

******END TRANSMISSION******

---

You ask me why Im weary, why I cant speak to you.
You blame me for my silence, say Its time I changed and grew.
But the war's still going on dear, and theres no end that I know...
And I cant say if were ever...
I cant say if were ever gonna be free.

[Dusty Lens]

Andrew and Walter Burke had made a tradition of celebrating their respective births atop the wreck of the Alabama as long as they rated to fly a freighter's load of water between Xeno bases. Her warped hulls cut from the light of Tau-45's distant sun were too genuinly unsafe to warrant exploration by any but the most hardy engineers, but sitting in a pair of magneticly attached lawn chairs atop her bridge whilst sipping whiskey through suit packs gave the twins a laugh.

Once or twice a passing flight had left their mark in the scard hull. The legacies of wings and pilots were laid out across the vessel's broken hull, the closest thing to public history that many of them would ever see. It was always an interesting sight to see, these passing fighters giving one last tribute to their names before passing through from the relative security of their home system.

They didn't think much of the passing wing of freighters beyond raising an empty pair of mugs at them in salute. Then the Slave Liner appeared. Andrew jumped to his feet as the massive vessel spawned itself out of light a shipslength away. Her already darkened hull now truly scorched, atmosphere burning from stress fissures along the width of her hull. Her windows were as dark as her engines and the bulk began to slowly turn with the puff of impacting debris. The freighters were quick to attach tow cables and begin to move their prize towards Alamo, engineering crews spidering along the relative threads of the cables to vanish amongst the vessel's cracks, presumably to begin the process of keeping her together.

"That" Andrew said with a chuckle "Was pretty daggon uniF$@# MY A@#" Walter jumped to his feet with force to launch himself violently into space, being saved only by the harness cable attached to their blazer. A Liberty Dreadnought towered above them, its hull alight with fire from the surrounding platforms lashing out at the vessel with a vengence; swiftly transforming the small berth of the 45 asteroid field into a killing field. A single bomber flashed into being behind it and began to fire upon the vessel, aiding in the assault. The massive vessel performed a slow turn, seemingly leisurely despite the ruinous fire being rained upon it. Then it vanished, trailed seconds later by the bomber.

They decided to wrap up lunch early.

** Accessing Ouray-Net **
** Biometric Confirmation **
** David Chambers **

* Select Action
* Submit Debrief

Today was one of glorious success but very nearly one of horrendous loss. I performed a critical error in judgement which may have been the ruin of us all.

I began my patrol slightly ahead of schedule in Colorado, electing to stand vigil over the Ontario jumphole whilst waiting for the rest of the squadron to arrive. As luck should have it, perspective demanding of course, I had the fortune of encountering one Stellar_Odyssey and Charlie_Charles I provided them with the usual option, they declined. The Odyssey managed to make good his escape, mooring with Pueblo's plant but with substantial hull damage to his name.

I joined with Death Adder, Pitviper, Sunbeam and Czerwony Pazdzirnik to cleanse a Outcast incursion in Kepler, an incursion which fled upon sighting our return comment. A cap 8 Outcast Trident and two Sabers fled for Ames station, one of the fighters being smoked up the tailpipe by Czer whilst in its docking proce..

Wait, Czerwony Pazdzirnik? Who the hell is that. Sound like we're recruiting out of the SCRA or somesuch.

Again, however, in Kepler as luck would have it (again perspective) we chanced upon Charlie_Charles yet again in the dark matter field. This time he considered my offer to spare his life in return for tribute to the Xeno cause by dropping his cargo.

We returned to Colorado, from which our plan was to press into New York to perform propaganda and cargo interdiction when we were taken out of the lane by an exceptionally lucky, as time would tell, Bounty Hunter who ended up with a little more than he could chew. BHG|Core-Vash.Stampede was ignored for a few moments as we debated which amongst us was going to kill him, when our own Czerwony won my inspired dice roll to assume the honor. We settled back to watch the show, which proved be sadly short, a trio of passes later the hunter was dead. Then some Junker showed. Then some GMG showed. All were dealt with.

Ah then something about me promoting Scarlet King to the rank he was already at but let's not talk about that.

*coughs*

Ahem, then to carry on with this rather dreary monologue we proceeded, being joined by Sidewinder, Boomslang and the recently re-promoted and now Royal god help me Skarlet King with aims towards burning to New York. Where we were promptly separated. Word has it they got into a fight with a Junker whilst I busied myself with some fool gateway captain, of the Darrowby, yet another Shire that for some reason decided to make use of his brains rather than his guns. He dropped his cargo amicably in deference of our cause afor I ran off to see what assistance I might give with the junker. Whom I later on put down with a bit of a cannon shot across the bow, to Czer's irritation and dismay.

Then **** hit the fan.

Describing furballs aint my thing. Suffice to say I think we did pretty good, taking out about four of them for one of ours before an ion storm blew us all the way of nob.

Cheers to Valence Harper for giving us a hand though, should see about pulling him into the ranks.

Would think it would be time for a bit of a break, but Czer found himself a Mon'Star so we were in a position of heading back to save his ass... Ahh, I seemed to have gotten lost at this point, I was corrected that I was actually <strike>running</strike> returning back to Colorado by mistake. *pause for effect* before I engaged the fight.

I took a pair of dragonfly salvos, which shredded my bird up something awful, but persisted in pressing the issue until the Necrosis was disabled. At which point it was time, given that the local law was building up their courage, to scuttle.

Which is when things became interesting.

I was contacted by "Lewis", a crewmember aboard a Mastodon class Ageira transport who is sympathetic to our cause. It is my belief that his earnestness is sincere. If we pull this off correctly we'll have an opportunity to hijack his vessel... Which is something which has been an objective of mine for some time. My move to secure a squadron of marines whom had just arrived at Ouray for transport to Nome turned out to be strangely fortunate just minutes later.

While conferring with an associate of mine, Gloom being the only name I know him by, a Liberty Rogue Slaver Liner chose to amble past Ouray as though it owned the place.

I burned after the vessel and proceeded to run it through its paces of demands, hoping to secure the hundred plus bounty hunters it had secured for the benefit of our intelligence divisions. The Rogue declined. Battle was met.

After an extremely fierce back and forth, my light bomber being ill suited for tackling the densely armored hull of the Liner. However a lucky blow began a irreversible process of slow decompression, urging the crew to abandon ship.

The vessel spewed atmosphere, escape pods and thick smoke from one quarter, but held.

I waited, with tense breath, as the fire was sucked out into space. The atmosphere leaks petered out and the vessel hung, gently spinning in space. Silent and empty.

I had a load of marines in my hold reserved for another mission. This opportunity could not be missed.

//Links from the perspective of the vessel in question. Held in a folder.

We lost three men, but secured the vessel in addition to a minor remaining compliment of slaves. Alone and with a tender prize I opted to throw caution to the wind and afixed a series of tow cables, intent on dragging the hulk to Tau-45 where it might be put to use.

That was when the Iowa decided to follow us.

I had found Pitviper to come and provide additional escort as I proceeded to carry the Liner at a snail's pace towards 45, any additional speed would have torn her asunder. With a sort of narrow minded desperation I hurtled her through to Kepler then into the hands of the Knight's space engineering corp, who awaited me in the 45 clearing.

That was when I realized I had made a terrible mistake. But didn't attempt to communicate it as such.

Minutes later the Iowa appeared within the heart of our most secret system, performed a slow scan and jumped out. Everything we had was within the computer core of that vessel, one of the most heavily armored battleships in the Liberty navy and I had nothing more than a pair of civilian bombers designed for interdicting flimsy transports to stop it.

So we put in the chase. It was do or die.

My repeated calls for assistance was eventually met, again, by Czer and eventually Gopher as the fight raged ever closer to the Kepler gate. A risky jump on my part allowed my lone bomber to meet the Dread within the Colorado system where I was able to disable the lane and prevent its escape.

The four of us persisted in raining desperate hell upon the battleship as Gunnison began to loom when I landed a lucky shot, somewhere, which initiated a chain reaction with spectacular result. I cannot express the extent of my relief to see that bastard vessel go up in flames, our secret dying with it.

That's all I have the energy for. David Chambers out.

[color=#FFCC66]** Upload Complete **

David set his padd down with the completion of the upload and rubbed his face, running his hands beneath the frames of his glasses. He hadn't shaved in days and felt like he had one foot in the grave and the other in hell. The sounds of celebrating echoed from across the bar but didn't permeate the dark corner booth from which he opted to submit his report, drink at his side.

He silently toasted to the pilots who'd saved his ass that day, to Skarlet King for making Royal and to the new comrad in Czer and friends lost. He drained his whiskey with a grimace and lay back in the booth, falling quickly into an exhausted slumber.

[Dusty Lens]

David's pad gave a, under the circumstanced, violent chirrup. Refusing to be silenced by the pounding motions of its master it persisted in attempting to crush it.

Eventually he relented, sweeping a whiskey glass aside as he rose from his sleep to see what in the name of burning and frightful hell the thing had to tell him.

Apparently that new briefs were pending submission. With a groan he pressed his thumb to the reader and set the machine to audio read/record, then put his head back down as the reports were droned to him.

** Accessing Ouray-Net **
** Biometric Confirmation **
** David Chambers **

Right... right... right...

* Select Action
* Review Debrief
* Attach Debrief - Message

Adder, you've been smoking 'em lately. Whoever sat your ass behind a desk needs to be dragged out into the street and shot. You made a sweet kill the other day and you've been knocking the black hearted bastards out of the lanes left and right. Good show, I'll be lending a hand with the paperwork in the near future, movement needs you behind a stick, not a pen. Good show and thanks for the report. Hopefully this one reaches you at 3AM.

Swift *yawns* Bloody sorry for mucking up your promotion. Don't know which way my head's been twisted on lately. Idjit that I am. This is why they kicked me up the hill way back when, damned if I know how I wandered out. Let alone with my pants on. The comment about the message is well received, seems like half the folks I put a gun to don't have a clue as to what's going on. Scared and aware is how they need to wrap up their day, not scared and confused.

Heading out to the kitchen sounds like a damned nice idea, point in fact. I've got that shuttle that needs to have its IFF checked out for something we've got lined up down the road. That'll be as good a time to test it as any. Wouldn't mind smuggling a crew groundside for a spell, put the earth under my feet. Have an 'ol bar I wouldn't mind visiting to boot.

Mojave, great to see you back in the cockpit as well. Seems we might squeeze the booze out of the lot of us. Fellows fighting for a man's right to put his hands to use and we've been shrugging off our own burdens, funny that. You did a good job against that gunboat, by the by. They're right nasty ships and I apologize for not arriving in time to lend a hand.

We're not well off, there is always a tickling option to drop the heart of our cause to turn to personal profit, the same call that's led so many other groups across Sirius off course and damned them to forever suffer a cycle of desperate plundering at the fringes of society. Resolve in the face of temptation is what sets us apart, which you demonstrated handily.

*sighs*

I lost a marine aboard that slave liner yesterday who couldn't be arsed to heed that same lesson. You did fantastic work, credit to the name.

Good job all, I"ll be forwarding these reports along. David out.

** Logging Out **

[timmychen]

[Incoming Transmission]
[From: XA-Gopher]
[To: Xeno Alliance]
[Begin Message]

Howdy there, folks! Today there be sum freelancer named 'Durandal' down yonder in New Yorker talkin' bout exactin' revenge on Copperhead! He said I'd do jus' fine, and we did a battle to th'death! Well, not 'xactly to the death, since he be runnin'way at the end. Tha'be showin'im how i's done!

[End Message]

[Dusty Lens]

David Chambers winced as his Waran touched down, his head was throbbing something fierce following the prior evening's pre-passout libation. His flightsuit reeked of bad coffee, his cockpit reeked of bad coffee and he really, really just wanted to take a shower and whatever pain medication that might maybe kill him.

He bent at the waist, hands on knees as he tries to hold back a wave of nausea that threatened to overwhelm him as the fuel rich odors of Refugio's flightline combated with his resolve to not make an ass out of himself before queen and country.

"Right, again, that does it. No more drinking. More jogging. Maybe take a combat course with the marines. Maybe just die a little. Eating more salad."

The lift shook a gentle reminder that he hated life with every passing level before it alighted at the Serpentis wing general berthing. One of the few places in his line of work that he could expect a measure of permanency. Stumbling into the small bathroom afixed to the apartment he found a yellow container of some truly potent pain medication. With the hesitation only required to turn that faucet's water from a soothing yellow to a reassuring clear, he gulped them down and lay upon his bed.

** Accessing Refugio-Net **
** Biometric Confirmation **
** David Chambers **

Right. I'm on the verge of suicide via whatever is closest and easiest so I'll make this brief. The day carried a number of simple encounters which generally resolved themselves favorably. Some 9 transports destroyed, the only noteworthy encounters of those being the cooperation in disposing of his cargo by one Honest Joe of the Jupiter Guild, who thereafter proved to maintain the extraordinarily amicable attitude displayed towards ourselves by the mercenary organization and the destruction of Solar Eclipse, a slave transport bound for the borderworlds.

I intercepted the vessel on route to the Cortez jumphole, destroying the vessel shortly after it ran through. The vessel's destruction spared the containers in which its unwilling cargo was being held, thankfully, though I was in the curious bind of being unable to recover the poor souls.

So I played a card and called the navy. Care of one Sarah Willows, who's of some rank or another I'm sure. I remained on site, allowing a [Cartel] vessel to pass in the process, until the Navy appeared on my scanner. However a strong sense of self preservation coupled with the emergency of a trio of passing transports urged me to quickly away.

Two of the transports were destroyed. Seeing that the navy was on site with a Mammoth transport for extraction I took that as my cue to leave, lest I burn out the remainder of my luck.

Managed to run into a Junker Gunboat somewhere in there, whom I lulled into a sense of security with my poetic ways, in addition to sharing with you all a little insight on the ways of Rogues.

Lots of transports nixed, doubt any will even make a blip on the evening news.

Oh yes, and a passing convoy of [USI] or whatnot tipped me two million credits. Need to keep an eye on those fellows.

-Chambers out.

* Select Action
* Submit Debrief

** Upload Complete **

* Select Action
* Review Debrief
* Attach Debrief - Message

Durandal... Who in the nine blazes is that I wonder.

Oh well, no matter. Just... Oh well. Good job for smacking him across the gob Gopher. Even if he is a nutter.

** Logging Out **

[centauri5pirate]

COMM ID: DESERT MOJAVE
ACCESS ID: 116261E

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

MESSAGE COMMENCING......


At 800 hours this morning, I set out on a routine patrol of the Silverton field. Long range scanners indicated a fellow Xeno had halted a transport ship at the tradelane about 12k away from me. I promptly altered course to lend assistance, and when I got there the trader had already complied with the order to abandon his cargo and was subsequently released. I grouped up with our comrade Jack "The Felon" Butcher and we waited for another hapless trader to fall into our trap. Not long after, a new target appeared on scanners. A Train came into view and was also ordered to halt, and he did not comply at first. He was ordered to empty his hold as well, along with his armaments. He did not comply and proceed to use some rather colorful language which cannot be repeated here. Due to his lack of understanding, he was shown the cold vacuum of space.

GUNCAM footage follows:



Then, we returned to the tradelane to see what would happen by, and a moment later, a police IFF'ed trader happened by. My communications were unsuccessful and I received no response but the sound of metal as my shields were dropped and my hull was breached. Foregoing any more attempts at communication, I returned fire and gave him "the what fer."

GUNCAM footage follows:



Another trader came along and we tailed him another tradelane towards Pueblo when a rather large Navy monstrosity came lumbering down the lane. Lucky for the trader, we turned our attention on the Navy boat. Things were looking good, and a Rogue even joined the fight (rather strange fighting this close to one without dodging his plasma guns) until a BH Gunboat showed up. We managed to dispatch the Navy cruiser, but the punishing BH guns proved too much for my already battered hull and myself and my gunner were forced to make way to the escape pods before the hull caved in.

GUNCAM footage right before the Navy boat's destruction follows:



My escape pod managed to get picked up by a passing patrol, before I was captured, and I am now safely back on Ouray. Looks like another ship wil need to be issued to me again.

END REPORT.

Just one question..... given to the fact that my escape pods seem to make it and my ships don't, why don't we make the ship hulls out of the same stuff! Anyway, I'm off now to the Ouray Inn to by my gunner a mug of 'shine, his performance was stellar against the Navy cruiser and he deserves a break. I will recommend a promotion for him as soon as I get some rest.

Mojave out.

......END TRANSMISSION

---

You ask me why Im weary, why I cant speak to you.
You blame me for my silence, say Its time I changed and grew.
But the war's still going on dear, and theres no end that I know...
And I cant say if were ever...
I cant say if were ever gonna be free.

[Dusty Lens]

** Accessing Ouray-Net **
** Biometric Confirmation **
** David Chambers **

* Select Action
* Review Debrief
* Attach Debrief - Message

To answer your question before getting into it, if we built our ships of the same stuff as our pods wed never get any downtime. So hush! Waiting for a new ship is about all the vacation time I see around here. Of course I usually end up spending said downtime catching up with paperwork, so there you go.

First of all, outstanding job putting one through that cruiser. While theres little chance of dissuading the persistence of the Guild, the loss of a patrolling siege cruiser during a time of war will work wonders towards dissuading the Navy from committing heavy forces to patrol Colorado. I know we maintain a philosophy of preserving forces and abstaining from taking losses, but you did fine work sticking to your guns and persisting in the fight despite the heavy support that thing had. Your new ship will be made available for you as quickly as possible.

Good work Cutter. Splendid work with those transports, when they open up on you without a word you know were getting our work done. One eyeful of a Xeno transponder and the captain knows hes about to become another Interspace statistic.

Chambers out.

** Logging Out **

[darthbeck]

so uhh... im still here.... fer now.... not sure about after ma next patrol... but im alive... and drunk...


*HIC*

-pitviper

---

<span style="font-family:Century Gothic">Violence is Golden</span>

[Dusty Lens]

** Accessing Ouray-Net **
** Biometric Confirmation **
** David Chambers **

* Select Action
* Review Debrief
* Attach Debrief - Message

... I'm glad you're alive and well Pitviper, turns out that the head on C deck needs scrubbing. Get a mop and get to work. Next time you give me a report on being drunk to send along to command you'll be cleaning the head, but we'll be using yours to do it, trackin me?

** Logging Out **

*grumbles*

Frikin freeloading flyboy prima donnas...

[centauri5pirate]

COMM ID: DESERT MOJAVE
ACCESS ID: 116261E

AFTER-ACTION REPORT

MESSAGE COMMENCING......

At 0630 hours this morning, I began a reconnisance patrol of New York, specifically the Detroit Munitions Sector. The sector was clear and no trade ships were sighted. I then returned to Colorado to interdict some inbound/outbound cargo ships. Not long after, a ship labeled the "Millenium Falcon" appeared on my scope. Scanners revealed he was carrying a hold full of Neon. I proceeded to drop him out of the lane and opened communications. He said he was bound for Kepler and I asked him to drop his cargo, as we can't be allowing that to pass by. He did not comply and proceeded to run, unsuccessfully I might add. He finally stopped when his hull was busted down to 2%.

GUNCAM FOOTAGE FOLLOWS:



He then proceeded to eject half his cargo, which was subsequently destroyed. I told him to drop it all, and he complied. That too, was destroyed.

GUNCAM FOOTAGE FOLLOWS: (note cargo destruction below his ship)



He was then allowed to leave, amazingly under his own power, given the fact that his hull had more holes then a fine baby swiss cheese block and was venting some sort of gas into space from the port side. Small comms clip follows......

COMM LOG SECTION 6A:



END REPORT

Now it's back to the main hanger bay to see if my ship is restocked and ready for another run.

-Mojave out.

......END TRANSMISSION

---

You ask me why Im weary, why I cant speak to you.
You blame me for my silence, say Its time I changed and grew.
But the war's still going on dear, and theres no end that I know...
And I cant say if were ever...
I cant say if were ever gonna be free.