Sorry I had to blow you off there about the drinks. Or the second race. One of the downsides of annexing yourself to a cause is that your playtimes get hauled off with it.
If the one year war hadn't ruined the dying years of my innocence, riled me up for a patriot, I probably would have turned into a club chick. I used to pore through the Easy Flyer magazines off the top shelf of my uncle's newsagents. But I was a dorky kid.
Professionalism aside, is there anything I, personally, can do to help out the Fighter's Club which isn't going to get me killed or involve licking anything a bishop wouldn't kiss? This has nothing to do with my day job, mind. I'm a fabricator by trade and a merc by coincidence, so let me know if there's anything you could use a consummately genius deniable for. I could use the hobby, and drinks ain't it.
If you need anything, hit me up here. Ramp up the encryption if its for something other than pleasure. I haven't enjoyed a scratch of my competitive streak properly in the last three years.
Tell me if you think of something.
-Nez.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
To be real, it's not every day someone comes from outside the club offering to help out or offer their expertise, especially a chick , so I was really quite surprised about your transmission.
Don't take me wrong, though. I'd be glad to have some assistance, though I didn't expect you'd be one to be reading up on those magazines either.
So alright, sweet cheeks, I suppose I can find something around here for yeah to help out in. You'd have to specify a little more what you'd be open to be able to do. There are a lot of things around that the club's got their hands in. Fabricator, eh?
How do you feel about getting a little dirty in some engine oil or the sorts?
Engine oil, huh? I was hoping that was where you'd take it.
I'm an combat aviator by trade, Mr President - but I've lived enough years in the shadow of the moral high ground to serve as my own competent crew chief. Mechanics interest me, Sunny. I like to know why things work. Where my breathing gas comes from, why my shields operate. Why I'm alive in an environment dedicated to insuring my death. How to trim the outputs, where to cut the mass. Funny story, Sunny. I knew some bored ex-IMG burning their currency on the Dublin ring, crazy guys of course - all the Hood tournaments are rigged and the track asteroid encrusted garbage. The game rules, what little there were, dictated no performance mods. Stock ships, no juicing up the thrusters, no tampering with cruise timers, no funny business with the roll control, and, most critically, no shaving the structure. Their pit crew see a panel out of place or an atmospheric spoiler missing, you're down five million credits with a bottle to the eye and a punch to the penis. If you want to go light, you load less fuel and risk crashing out for the paddies to pick your skulls. That's the way of it.
So these boys were trying to cheat - of course they were, they all were that year, it was part of the pride of the competition. But they couldn't cheat obvious, there's no showmanship in it. Navigation lights, Sensors, Peripherals - there was nothing that wouldn't get noticed ripped that was worth the ripping - and these were smart guys. So they asked themselves, what's the one surface nobody would dream of you cutting up?
They sanded the cockpit visor.
Simple really. Meteor resistant transparent nanopolymer comes off nice and smooth under an angle grinder. They took three layers out of her, shaved six hundred and fifty eight kilograms off her and still kept the pressure seal tight. They waxed her till she was shiny enough to look right under inspection then took her to the track, sure that they were going to make a killing.
Oh, they made a killing alright.
That fighter won them the race, Sunny. Then they tried to play it again, a rock strayed between the gates and decapitated their best man. These are space ships. Every constituent component is tuned to the slimmest of margins, every digit, every angle, every circuit, is devoted to keeping you alive. I have no truck with kit bashers - I trust people to do their jobs. If you're going to be a modder then you need to know how to hold a wrench. That's the rule of thumb for not having your ride combust around you.
To survive in the border worlds, you either need a logistical train thirty light years long or calloused thumbs. I couldn't afford the former - but I'm the next best thing. If you ever need anything hotrodding I'm game to play. It's the least I can do since you fused all that H-fuel for me.
I'm curious to see what work you'd like to fire my way, Mr President. This whole thing is childhood fantasy wish fulfilment, Sunny. I'm going to have a lot of fun with it.
-Nez.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
In short, I am impressed. You seem to have quite a background and hell, if you're up for it then why would I refuse? I'm sure as well you'll catch attention from others in the club using more than a pretty face and the sorts.
We have a few things that are in the works along what you've described, though, I have really been keen on one project in particular.
The job's collected some dust, mind you, since there is a lot to do around here anyway and the guy that was workin' on it has went AWAL. So, in short, you'd be picking off where he'd left off an joining some others that have been tinkering around.
Forget whatever the dust-collectors down at the Dublin track called cheatin'. We've got a different philosophy down here in the Archangels and that is your ride does the talkin' for yeah. That includes how yeah treat it and what you do to it. If she got mods, then that speaks better for the pilot that owns her.
This project's currently in my personal hangar and a rare one too. An old starflie we've been repairing to become a nasty good hotrod. You interested in such an undertaking? You'd be working along-side others later as well on a special little mod for the craft.
Besides that, you could also have the option to work with some of our engineers on our current manual since you say you are interested in how things work. A researcher's job, basically.
If both those things don't suite your interests and you're looking for something bigger then speak up.
The thing is, Ms. Erinyes, we have in our possession an existing CTE 750AE already. One of the guys found it around in a 'roid field and it was pretty beat up, but all the major parts were kept nicely preserved. She's a beauty but it took her a lot of work to get into the state she is in currently. We are basically keeping the framework and all of the model, mind you, but doing a little improvement on the ships engine in particular. Well I wouldn't say it is a 'little' improvement.
In short, she'll be the fastest thing out there... in theory at least for the time being.
If you are interested then perhaps we can meet somewhere for you to get a closer look at her and to talk privately. And yeah, she's a real drama-queen, so you'll have quite the hobby to be working on.
Subject:Now you're really bringing it back Sender_ID:Erinyes Transmission_Priority:Low Transmission_Encryption:Moderate Transmission_Source:Barrier_Gate_Station, Coronado, Barrier_Worlds
Propulsion hotrodding - oh boy.
The problem with propulsion finessing is that pretty much all Sirian thermothrusters are run directly off the vessel's stellarator, so any output tweak is going to radically alter every other performance aspect of the craft. There's a reason why fighters clad head to toe in active armour tend not to turn well - you have to upscale the core for bigger fighters since that's just more surface area to ensure doesn't immediately detonate when you ding a rock at a few hundred megameters per second of velocity difference - and the more mass, the more juice you need to slam through your Orbital Maneuvering Systems, which in turn requires a more massive core. You see the dilemma. There's a reason why most fighters rake in similar performance figures post nomad war.
Still. I didn't say it had to be an easy challenge.
You're right, I'd love to be acquainted with her. Send me the navigation coordinates where she's based and I'll fly out there sometime within the next six solar days.
-Nez.
THE SYNDIC LEAGUES
(A co-operative of Rheinland's outlawed trade unions, determined to take the underworld for themselves.)
I appreciate your concern with the dilemmas this task could be, though I must stop you and say you are getting too far ahead of yourself in terms of assumptions. I never said this is gonna be an ordinary Starflea now did I?
I'm well aware about how most fighters operate. I've worked on quite a few myself down in the shop. For this project however we are not following the standard at all. and a starflea doesn't have a lot of mass to begin let alone we stripped her like an ol'-lady on Christmas.
Don't overthink it till yeah see in more detail what we're up to. We're farther ahead in our research than you'd think.
Anyway, I'll wire to you the location where she's held.
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