A community story

[pagroove]

Lets make a community story. I'l start and everytime someone else takes over. lets see how the story develops. I'm not a writer so feel free to correct any typos. let's see where this goes right?

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Chapter 1. The Assignment
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A short blink of light and then it was over. A large freighter slowly dropped out out witchspace and instantly began to make its way to the blue ice planet in the distance. In an instance two more ships jumped in. Some navy fighters. Feric Delancos instantly recognized them as Navy Vipers. "This is getting difficult", he thought.

In his mind he went back to the space bar assignment text at Maises. "Healthy combatant wanted for liberation". The mission in itself was different because it was not an assassination.

Two years ago the Boarding drone had been introduced on the equipment market. As a gadget freak Delancos was always hunting for the next big thing. After a bit trading and a bit of bounty hunting his heavily adapted Cobra MKIII had a shiny new drone in it's weapons bay. It had proven to be a expensive toy because up until to now he never had used it "At last I get the chance to see if it's works now. If it works altogether", he thought.

Delancos looked at his scanner. Two more escorts had joined his target. This time it where ASP's.

All the time Delancos was laying stationary behind the witch space beacon. He knew he couldn't wait for long. Waiting ships always raised some suspicion especially at Edorte. Delancos knew Edorte was famous for the Edorte ice prison. A facility somewhere on the planet. No one ever got the chance to come near enough. Those who tried where immediately shot down on the planet surface. And it was even rarer to return from the harsh arctic environment of Edorte. Mountains up to 8 miles weren't exactly easy to cross.

Luckily the freighter itself wasn't the problem. He just had to make sure it didn't got destroyed. The ships database identified it as a modified L-crate transporter. The containers however where specialized prison carbines. Delancos was not interested in who he had to liberate. Only the large credit sum interested him. The 4 escorts however worried him more. "It must be someone special, at least not a small time criminal". Slowly he pushed the throttle forward. The ships where just at the edge of his scanner.

[overmage]

Excellent idea! typo there btw:

A large freighter slowly dropped out out witchspace

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"Asp-One to Asp-Two, over."

"Asp-Two to Asp-One, send over."

"Asp-Two, possible tailgater. Requesting cross-scan, over."

"Acknowledged, over and out." Naval Ensign Jero-Smith thumbed off the short-wave channel. "Cross-scanning... when was the last time I did this? Ah, found it." He hit a switch and keyed in the coordinates and trajectory of the other Asp. Cross-scanning was a recent innovation, based on the principle of interferometry used on Old Earth. Two ships together would engage their scanners and cross-scan each other. This effectively gave a temporary increase in the resolution of the scanners. The only drawback was that it required both ships to travel in a steady trajectory, making it useless in combat.

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"Shit!" Delancos muttered as he brought his Cobra into a tight loop, bringing it out of scanner range. The two Asps bringing up the rear guard were flying in rigid, steady tandem - the unmistakeable signs of a cross-scan. This could only mean that he had been discovered. His only chance was to hope he would be mistaken for an asteroid.

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Jero stared at the display, willing it to display a telltale yellow blip. Just maybe once, he would get to be the one to blow a pirate out of the sky. On the last sixteen escort flights he had flown, he had shot down just one other pirate. It wasn't that there was a lack of target practice - far from it. Ensign Jame, his flight partner, was simply too good a shot. Jero would have sighted the pirate and before he could squeeze the trigger, a stab of bluish-white light would ring out and disintegrate the offender, right before his eyes. But Jame was on sick leave today, down with evil disease. Maybe, just maybe, today would be his big break.

A minute of watching and waiting and the screen was still disappointingly empty. Almost regretfully, he thumbed the short-wave switch. "Asp-Two to Asp-One, cross-scan shows negative. Repeat, cross-scan shows negative. Requesting confirmation, over."

"Asp-One to Asp-Two, we are clear in the zone as well. Probably an asteroid or something. Disengage and re-form, over."

"Acknowledged, Asp-One. Over and out." Jero eased the Asp away from its twin and back into escort position behind the L-crate. Come to think of it, even if he didn't get to shoot anyone this round, at least he was getting paid double for this one assignment. That thought cheered him up immensely, and he found himself whistling as they sped towards Edorte.

[drew]

Delancos cursed. There was no way to seize the freighter without dealing with the escort. His Cobra was pretty close to having an 'iron-ass', but asking it to take a pounding from those ships would be suicide. Somehow he needed to separate the freighter from its escorts.

But how?

He ran a few scenarios through his mind before settling on a strategy. He nosed he Cobra down and tripped the Torus drive. Instantly his ship surged ahead. He tilted the attitude of his ship using the yaw thrusters, keeping the freighter and its escorts just out of range until he had placed the Cobra between them and the planet. Then he switched the Torus drive off.

He fired the forward military laser a number of times and then triggered his ECM system. The ringing tones echoed through the bridge. Then he thumbed the wide band comm system.

"I'm being attacked by Marauders! Please assist!"

He triggered the ECM again and then watched with satisfaction as the two Asps came barrelling in towards him, abandoning their defensive positions and looking for a fight.

[Captain Hesperus]

Delancos watched as the Asps accelerated towards his ship. In his head, he ran over the details of his plan, knowing it would require precise timing and a hell of a lot of guts. With careful adjustments of his course, he tagged first one, then the other of the escorts with his ship's ident computer, ostensibly to check their legal status. He then stored their energy signatures into his targeting computer. Even as he prepared to initiate the next stage, his comms system crackled to life with an inbound message.
"This is Asp Mark Two 'Sunchaser' to unidentified Cobra Mark Three, Ensign Smith piloting. We picked up your distress call and are responding. Where are your bandits, over?"
Delancos adjusted his comm system to give an underlying static effect before replying, "Thank Giles! This is the trader ship...", he mumbled the ship's identification number, allowing it to be lost in the static, "We were transporting Textiles in-system when we got jumped by a SuperCobra and a pair of Cobra Rapiers. My navigator thinks they came out of a Rock Hermit station about 30 klicks behind us. They just dropped back when I sent my distress call. It looked like several other ships were launching before the Hermit dropped off the scanner, over."

Jero listened dubiously. The Cobbie III on his scanner looked pretty well specced, certainly enough to stand up to a pair of Rapiers, possibly even the SuperCobra if the pilot was good enough. But something didn't add up. Jero thumbed the comm again, "Unidentified Cobra Mark Three from 'Sunchaser'. My scans show that unless your ship isn't a standard Mark Three, your displacement mass is off by thirty-five tonnes. Where's your cargo?"
Delancos cursed silently. He'd expected the escort pilots to be suspicious but this one was way sharp. He quickly recalled the ident lock on the transmitting ship and checked the range. The green numerals showed 18.6km and was swiftly scrolling down. Still too far to start the plan. With another curse, he opened the comms, "Received, Ensign. We dumped the cargo when they first went hostile on us. I'm not a very experienced combateer and that SuperCobra looked damn scary, over."
Jero considered the response warily, then sighed. It was often the case that some rich mudjockey would watch one too many episodes of 'Commander Jameson - Space Adventurer', then decide they would take to the stars in as powerful a ship as they could afford. Inevitably, they either sold the ship at a huge loss after a week of bimbling around their local systems or they would be reduced to atoms by the first rookie pirate that took a fancy to them. If he didn't hate the idea so much, Jero would probably have laughed.
"Unidentified Cobra Mark Three from 'Sunchaser'. Cool your engines and we'll deal with your bandits. If you can't handle a furball, maybe you should think about a different line of work in future.", he responded to the inbound Cobra and rammed his throttles forward. These pirates sounded like they were professionals, seeing off a newbie trader the minute he dropped his load and high-tailed it, rather than risking a drawn-out fight. It was even a possibility they knew about Jero's escort mission and had been lying in ambush for them. This remote chance required that the pirates be flushed out and eliminated.

Delancos throttled back as he watched the Asps dart forward, a smile playing across his lips. The targeting computer showed the first Asp's range shrinking and as it fell to single figures, his left hand hovered over the missile controls.

Jero peered between his scanner and the viewscreen, waiting for the first sign of the pirate ships and the Rock Hermit. Wierd, the Hermit stations were so big, you could usually see them on the viewscreen well before they appeared on the scanner, but everywhere he looked, Jero couldn't make it out. So intent on the view ahead, he barely noticed as his ship passed less than 2 kilometres underneath the stationary Cobra.

Delancos' hands moved fast. His left index finger jabbed into the missile arming control, instantly locking a missile onto the Asp he had been talking to and then punched the launch panel. Even as he did this, his right thumb jabbed the toggle that fired the Quirium fuel injectors. As the missile dropped from its hull, the Cobra darted off toward the lightly-protected L-crate transporter.

Jero's threat detection system sounded out a pair of wild alert messages, "Hostile Detected" followed by "Incoming Missile". It took less than a tenth of a second for Jero to tap his ECMs, even as his eyes glanced to the scanner to spot his hostile and the origin of the missile. His eyes widened as he realised that the hostile was the Cobra now less than five kilometres behind him and that the ECM had not been successful. He punched the button again and started evasive maneouvres. The ECM was ineffective again and, as he tried to roll and pitch away, the missile smashed through the aft shields of his ship and tore into the prime motivator. The status monitors flashed red and started scrolling a list of damaged and destroyed systems, the most pertinent of which informed Jero that the energy units were going into meltdown and would destroy the ship in less than four seconds. It only took one for him to hit the button marked with a red triangle and his escape capsule ejected from the ruined hulk of his ship.

Delancos raced toward the distant hauler and the Vipers, the burning wreck of one Asp in his wake and the other left wrong-footed, turning to pursue him. Delancos switched to the aft viewscreen and lined the surviving Asp up in the crosshairs of the military laser mounted between the Cobra's engines. Even as the Asp got into firing position, its initial shots scoring hits on his shields, Delancos cooly opened up with a devastating barrage of laser fire, badly damaging the other ship with the first salvo. It arced out of his line of fire, spewing plasma from its buckled hull and limped off toward the edge of his scanner range. If he'd had the time, he would have run it down and finished it off, but he had a job to do. With a resigned sigh, he returned to the forward view and the L-crate transporter that rapidly grew in his crosshairs. Lasers lanced out from the two Vipers as they gunned their engines to intercept his advance. Now it was finally time to let 'Junior' come out to play. He tagged one of the Vipers with his targeting computer, relayed the energy signature to the drone's artificial intelligence, then ejected the drone fighter. It hung below the Cobra for a moment, orienting itself and collating its tactical data before firing its engines and launching off after its assigned target. Delancos switched his attention to the second Viper, secure that 'Junior' would at least cause a distraction to the other pilot.

Delancos' target was obviously not happy about the sudden appearance of a second antagonist and replied by firing a missile at his Cobra. It had barely gone a kilometre before it exploded under the effect of the ECM pulse that Delancos replied with. The Viper opened up with its beam laser, the ruby beam dancing across the distance between the dueling ships to splash across the Cobra's forward shields. Delancos responded in kind, his laser fire far more effective, and the Viper swiftly succumbed to the heavy pounding it received, coming apart in a silent flash of light. There was a bleep and Delancos checked his scanner. 'Junior' had also blooded himself, the second Viper was little more than a rapidly expanding cloud of debris. Now the drone fighter had eliminated its target, it had powered down to await recovery. Dammit, Delancos scowled, I missed it. He slowed his engines, looped over and lined up with the inactive drone. Within moments, the fuel scoops activated and the status monitor flashed up a message 'Drone Fighter Recovered'. He completed a lazy turn to bring the L-crate back into his forward view and activated the comms again.
"L-crate, this is the Cobra that currently has you in the sights of its military laser and under multiple missile locks. Stop your engines and prepare to be boarded. Over and out"
Maybe, if he had time once he'd collected his charge, he could catch up with that last Asp and see how good 'Junior' really was....

Captain Hesperus

[overmage]

Maybe having Jame along wasn't so bad after all, Jero reflected as the escape pod engaged its thrusters and sped towards the Coriolis station. I'll remember you, and I'll be waiting for you to make a mistake. And when you do... Nobody makes me fail and get away with it. No one.

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"This is the Statham-1 to unidentified Cobra Mark-III. I don't know what organization hired you or what it wants with our cargo. That's right, we know where you come from. Only ex-military would maintain radio discipline with outsiders. You're no pirate. You're a hired professional. And my instructions were clear. This crate is going to Fragville before anyone gets their hands on it." The transmission shut off.

Delancos grinned. Now was the time to play his trump card. The L-crate was clearly going to blow itself up in a self-destruct sequence. He had to stall for time while he did his work.

"Captain of the Statham-1, this is the Troubadour. Perhaps you'd like to reconsider. Your journey need not end in violence." Even as he spoke, his fingers flew over the controls, reconfiguring the Boarding drone for takeover. On finishing his sentence, he keyed the drone for launch.

"There remains nothing to discuss. You will not have my cargo."

The drone flew silently through space, its dull black paintwork nearly invisible against the backdrop of stars.

"You might not necessarily be out of a job, Captain. We have positions open for... men of your vocation." Delancos spoke the lie smoothly. He had no idea who wanted this crate or what he wanted it for, and he certainly had no idea what the 'we' referred to.

The drone latched onto the ship with a soft clunk, and began to engage its cutting laser.

"What kind of vocation?" The reply was wary.

The drone had almost finished sawing a square-shaped hole in the cargo bay of the hull.

"How about... fifteen thousand credits a run, all expenses paid?" Delancos knew it was only a matter of time now.

"I don't - what the?" There was a loud, screeching mechanical noise from the comms, and the sound of mechanical feet pounding. "What is this? Cargo bay breach? What..."

Thud. The sound of something striking the floor. Then a high, keening scream, and the sound of meat charring. Then silence.

Aboard the Troubadour, Delancos allowed himself a grim smile of satisfaction as the re-progammed ship turned to follow the Cobra.

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In the meantime, Asp-One "Shrieker" regained its bearings and took a path straight for the L-crate and the Cobra, its lasers engaged and ready to fire.

[pagroove]

Has been a while since this was updated. Anyone up for writing a new part?

[DaddyHoggy]

I'll put it on my to-do list!