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The US-Opportunity - A Biography - Printable Version

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RE: The US-Opportunity - A Biography - |nfrared - 02-14-2015

"Let's find out how bad it is..."

Self Diagnostic Report - XA-Serpentis.Maximus

Run Report Y/N - Y

Loading AI Holographic Representation... Done.
Loading Voice - Sexy Hotness.mp9000+

[Image: hotchick_zpsbb44d1d1.png]

System Status - Code Red - Return to port without delay
Primary systems - Run Diagnostic - All Systems
Primary System Reboot - FAIL
Secondary System Reboot - Success, rerouting power.

Energy Core Primary Ignition - Y/N - Y
Energy Core Containment Field - Y/N - Y
Life Support - Y/N - Y
Hydraulics - Y/N -Y
Navigation - Y/N - Y - Instruments Only
Communications Array - Y/N - Y
Internal Diagnostics - Y/N -Y
Port Engine Ignition - Y/N - Y
Starboard Engine Ignition - Y/N - Y
Manoeuvring Jets/Thruster Ignition - Y/N - Y
Primary Shield Generator - Y/N - N - Error - Not Detected
External Weapons Array - Y/N - N - Error - Not Detected
External Hull Sensor Array - Y/N - N - Systems Damaged
Internal Sensor Array - Y/N -Y
Bridge Command Console - Y/N - Y
Life Preservation/Escape Pod Evacuation system - Y/N - N - No Pods Detected

Hull Integrity - 0% ERROR
Superstructure Integrity - No faults found
Rated Cargo Capacity - 5000 units (maximum)

Cargo Manifest records -
Successful Delivery of 20,000 units of Premium Scrap to Refugio Base, Alabama -
Datapacket - 1* 2* 3* 4*

Successful delivery of 5000 units of H-Fuel to Fort Leniex, Vespucci -
Datapacket - 1*

Additional Notes -
Recent Ablative armor maintenence at Fort Leniex is all that is keeping the crew alive. Navigation by eye is impossible due to the toxic cloud radiating off of the hull. Navigation is only possible by instrument readings. Immediate repairs and hull detoxification required.

"Don't worry about that last bit, it always says that"

RE: The US-Opportunity - A Biography - |nfrared - 02-26-2015

Jacked (incident reference Argo)

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With the all clear given at the Creek and the Navy Gunboat departed, the Serpentis could resume their operations. As the loading commenced, Jimmy came aboard the ship, his ordeal of paranoia over. The cards had been played. The time he needed to complete Oyster Creek, it appeared, had been bought.

The vessel itself was in stark contrast to the scrubbed inside of the station. Heavily tattooed with Alliance insignia, large duct tape roll etchings and personal markings of Xeno pilots shrouded by a thick yellow waste plasma cocktail, the former Stork had become a symbol of the rising Xeno influence within Liberty. Jimmy looked forward to doing the same to the Oyster Creek installation itself, as he believed that the facility would never have need to allow their enemies aboard again.

He mulled these things over as the last of the pods was clamped into place, a veritable fortune of scrap attached to the usurped train. Docking control on Refugio would be most pleased to see him again. Then he got word from Harold, everything was ready. Time to go.

Moving through the Negra to the jumphole, Jimmy reflected on how well things had gone. The base was intact, Deidre had played her part perfectly. He had promised to bring her something from home, but was at a loss as to what. He still hadn't decided as the vessel lurched through the jumphole into California system.

A contact on the scope. A Pelican transport. No obvious markings, probably a cardamine smuggler. With no weapons and no sheilds, Jimmy could only hope that patrols would catch him before he made his destination.

Then something unexpected happened. The vessel turned in a lazy loop and fired a cruise disruptor, blocking the flow of ions through the intake. The engines suffocated, stalled, and then promptly died.

Jimmy was livid. Who did this guy think he was? Emblazoned across the hull was a word - "Argo". He racked his brains, searching for a clue as to who this might be, but came up with nothing. The only clue was a Freelancer transponder code.

The exchange between captains of the vessels soon gleaned new information. This guy, a mister Antares, was not liking the obviously Xeno-ish ship. Then he found out why. His lot was in with the Junker Congress, Jimmy was told matter-of-factly. According to this guy, the scrap was their property. It didn't help that they also had an open hit out on Xeno Alliance ships.

Junkers. Jimmy almost threw up at the thought of what was happening. That was Liberty's scrap, and those Congress that were now locked in a legal battle with the Liberty Government about their legitimacy, those dirty Junkers were hauling this same scrap toward the likes of Outcasts and bringing back damaging drugs. Liberty's enemies.

The Pelican was only lightly armed, but even the small amount of turrets it could bring to bear would shred the ship in minutes. He wanted the pods. With no weapons, shields, or even escape pods, breaking this down into a melee spelt certain death. Jimmy's blood began to boil. But he could do nothing.

Releasing the clamps, Harold could hear Jimmy muttering to himself "Captain Antares, Argo, Pelican. Captain Antares, Argo, Pelican."

True to his word, he allowed the now unladen Stork passage, with millions in scrap floating away. No doubt Antares would take his fill and likely call in Congress transports for the rest. Jimmy watched in silent fury as the scrap his people had toiled over was taken from them. He logged the event in the ships computer, as he was sure Captain Antares had done. Soon every Junker would know Xeno activity was on the up.

"Change of plan. Chart a course for Ouray. We could use the time to gather more pilots, and see if some will come back with us. The Congress are gonna wish they had never messed with the Xeno Alliance."

RE: The US-Opportunity - A Biography - |nfrared - 04-19-2015

Alone

[Image: c7d1a514-6441-4759-9b8a-7cbabc29800b_zpsqvhfwo5m.png]

After the tragedy of the San Antonio during which most of the personnel aboard Oyster Creek had been only able to look on in horror as the hegemon was dissected in front of them all, subsequently killing all 24 crew on board, Jimmy was never the same. He became withdrawn from operational decisions, the man who was once calling the shots for the Alliance was now twisting into a self destructive madman with a deathwish.

He had no idea who was responsible for the attack that day, only the ship model and callsign of the vessel, no clue as to who had put the attack in place. The Xenos had many enemies. It could have been anyone. He was losing assets, and people. People's lives.

On top of this, a hijacking by a Lane Hacker in a similar craft had left him only half of his load of premium scrap for Refugio.

Alone aboard the Serpentis Maximus for many days at a time, Jimmy had learned to chart the courses and run mass projections for piloting asteroid fields from the original pilot, Harold. He was now working in the bar back on the station, his dream job he had said. That suited Jimmy fine. Leaving him to plot and plan his next move.

The ship itself had been jury-rigged enough now that one person could fly it for as long as they could stay awake, with cheap automated drones manning the few consoles that were still operating. The autopilot could take control for short periods, across clear space and serve as the co-pilot in manoeuvring situations. Redundant systems like shielding and weapons has reduced the necessary crew significantly.

The next stop was to take the monthly H-fuel shipment out to Vespucci. Hellfire activity had gone up recently in Liberty, the group putting the fuel to good use. Jimmy laid in the course. Another lone run. If his fate was to be the same as those aboard the San Antonio, so be it.

RE: The US-Opportunity - A Biography - |nfrared - 05-01-2015

Stir Crazy.

[Image: 9bbc4ebf-fa50-4f04-9195-924e28288d74_zpswzh85jyd.png]

The weeks blurred into months as isolation and Jimmy's deteriorating mental state ate away at him. Things had gotten worse - his wife had left him a short and cryptically worded comms message about why they couldn't be together any more and filed for divorce. This pushed whatever strained reasoning Jimmy had left over the brink. Xeno Officials had put in place a new Squad Commander, unwilling to let the momentum that had been built for the Alliance dissipate. The Xeno known as Herald was in charge now, giving the Alliance the leadership it needed.

This was his punishment, he told himself. For letting them all die aboard that doomed Hegemon. It occurred to him that he too might die aboard this ship, his own personal huge radioactive coffin. One life paled in comparison to those lost aboard the San Antonio. The Alliance is what mattered. Without this ship the economy Jimmy had strived so hard to create would crumble, and the new found prosperity that the Alliance was enjoying would quickly reverse into a downward spiral of poverty.

Tapping a few buttons on the primary console, he breathed a sigh. It was a miracle the ship was still running, only the attentions of the silent Hellfire Legion's Chief Engineer Kathy Snow and sporadic visits to Oyster Creek by the Duct Tape Gang and their group of repair vessels kept the Serpenitis.Maximus pressurised and moving. He really needed those repair vessels to take another look at the crippled gas-exuding mess of a cargo ship. His recent message had been answered, it looked like he would be meeting them at his hideout.

Plotting the course, he let Blaze (he had named the onboard AI computer after hearing of his impending divorce) swing the ship in a wide arc and push the engines up to their maximum output. The ship was shrieking, alarms were whining, and Blaze the Onboard AI hologram looked beautiful, alluring...

He had been in space alone too long, he knew. He recalled two men in the bar talking about how isolation could make pilots crazy. Hallucinations. "Space Angels, things like that..." He was unravelling, and once he had accepted that and let go completely, it would become much easier.

RE: The US-Opportunity - A Biography - |nfrared - 05-12-2015

No way out.

[Image: 9e549d0d-381c-4a36-ba23-f6e296f01557_zpsmveihnfq.png]

Another routine run for supplies from Milford. Basic supplies like clean water and air were running out, only a few days of breathable atmosphere remained. The Creek was in a bad way, and Jimmy's worries continued to increase. They were only a short distance from Oyster Creek when the hologram projector powered up, projecting the representation of the AI that Jimmy had grown so fond of.

Blaze alerted him to the ship tailing him, her synthetic voice capturing Jimmy's full attention.
"Incoming vessel. Designation - Hostile - Junker Congress .:j:.Pearl.Harbor"

"Oh no... Get us through the jumphole! Now!" He knew any chance of getting to safety hinged on this jump. He had to make it into Pennsylvania. He thought briefly of Randy, the pilot of the doomed Randy.Rattlesnake pirate train, destroyed in this area only a few months ago. Would he share his fate?

The vessel creaked and whined as it was gripped by the gravitational field. The noises would have had any normal person running for the escape pods. Jimmy knew there was no point. He had no escape pods. Instead he stood up and began rummaging through a pile of gear next to the navigational console. The small Junker vessel followed, and Jimmy spat in disgust. A Renzu ship? I mean really?!

"Open a channel, let's see what this Junker wants." Jimmy's voice was edgy.
"Channel is open, signal strength is at 87 percent." Then the Junker spoke.

"Cut your engines... Or I'll destroy that... What is that, a mobile scrapheap?"

Jimmy had come to accept that even Junkers would call the ship wreckage. They just didn't understand, they lived in a world of luxury. With shields. And weapons.

Jimmy started talking, all the while knowing how this would inevitably end. The Kusari-made ship had an Antimatter signature - a sure sign that it was ready to destroy the craft at a moment's notice. He began tightening the large boots of the suit. He didn't have anyone to check his work, he would have to take the risk. But the Junker didn't know that.

"There are 18 civilians aboard this ship, you gonna kill them too?" Another precious minute gained. He checked the fastenings on the torso, they were clipped into place. Good.

Then another ship arrived, the hesitation it caused in the other pilot certainly saved his life. Jimmy kept them talking, while Blaze translated the transponder code.

"Incoming vessel. Designation - Hostile - Liberty Security Force =LSF=Seeker"

Jimmy kept the banter going, the usual rhetoric about how being poor was no crime. A few more minutes passed. Just the helmet and one heavy glove to go.

Then another contact, something physically struck the ship. A flash of light. Another contact.
"Anomaly detected - Designation - Neutral - Freelancer transponder code - Misfit"

Jimmy offered the newcomer a chance to earn some credits, for him to slip out of this mess. But he wasn't buying it, the numbers stacked against him. The glove clicked into place.

"Blaze, on my mark open all hatches. Extend all drive flaps and fins. Vent all waste plasma and shut down the main reactor"

The LSF officer offered an ultimatum "You have 30 seconds to get that thing to somewhere pressurised."

Reaching over with a heavily gloved hand, Jimmy initiated the cruise engines. Seconds later Blaze was warning him of incoming weapons discharges.

"But... You said 30!" Jimmy said helplessly. He watched as the pods ruptured near the end of the train. Luckily he was empty. He grabbed the helmet now, as he watched the front of the Junker ship glow with stored energy. The shot streaked just over the bridge, hitting one of the higher decks. A bright blue flash erupted, streaking inexorably towards the large, easy target.

"MARK!"

Jimmy grabbed the console chair and held on for dear life. The sound of the explosion, the rushing of vital air as the stricken Stork ruptured. Then, just as abruptly, there was silence. Jimmy floated effortlessly in the dark, quiet wreckage, only the sounds of rending metal remained. He waited, and waited. But the ships, satisfied the target was dealt with, quickly moved away.

Jimmy waited in the dark in his E.V.A suit for a long few hours before attempting to power up the systems again. With more critical damage, Jimmy struggled to tell which of the breaches was the new one. The reactor primed, initialised and diverted power to the engines. He would have to get to a safe port before assessing the damage.