Discovery Gaming Community
Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - Printable Version

+- Discovery Gaming Community (https://discoverygc.com/forums)
+-- Forum: Role-Playing (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=9)
+--- Forum: Stories and Biographies (https://discoverygc.com/forums/forumdisplay.php?fid=56)
+--- Thread: Tannik Seldon's Personal Log (/showthread.php?tid=2259)

Pages: 1 2 3 4 5


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-22-2007

--Begin Entry--

The last month has been pretty eventful. It started when a Corsair attacked the Aedos outside of New London. I knew I couldn't fight him, but I didn't want him to get away either. I figured that if I simply dived into the city, the jerk would get away and molest other honest traders later. I decided to keep him as busy as I could while I called on the local authorities for help. Brave, probably, but stupid. My controls jammed, his shots landed, and my reactor went critical mere seconds before help arrived. I ejected safely, and the Corsair was destroyed by the Bretonian forces, but I was out a ship. So much for bravado: owning the rights to call my ship the Aedos doesn't mean jack when you don't have a hull to bolt the nameplate onto.

I managed to hitch a ride back to Manhattan, where I ran into a recruiter for the Liberty Navy's South Alliance. It didn't take too long for him to convince me to sign on as a fighter pilot... I needed something to do while I arranged to get a new ship of my own. The freedom to fly and explore as I please is incredibly important to me, and blast it, I might as well do my part to maintain that freedom. Just as important, I would be allowed to continue freelance trading in the Aedos while on leave, as long as I didn't do anything against the interests of Liberty. No problem there: I love Liberty, and I never have and never will do anything against my house. They must be a bit desperate for recruits: the amount of leave I got was quite generous, and they even let me pick my own callsign. I've decided to call myself Sushi: I've always liked Kusari food, even if their government seriously creeps me out.

Soon after I was issued a fighter, it became clear that the decision to sign on was the right one. I'd never heard of the Hellfire Legion before, but I soon realized that if they weren't opposed, millions would die and even worse, Liberty would cease to be free. That freedom is worth defending, maybe even dying for. Those Lane Hacker scum, and all others like them, can't be allowed to continue their reign of terror. Not in my house.

Easier said than done though. I've already been forced to eject after a nasty battle against the HF, and cheating death twice in one month is a bit much for me. Hopefully, I'll get better equipment soon (and maybe even some training).

Once I went on leave, I immediately started looking for a new ship. Not having my own hull to fly how and where I please felt like not having any legs. A man claiming to be an IMG pilot offered to sell me an old freighter of his for an extremely reasonable price. Naturally, there was a catch. Actually, several catches. It took a few drinks to get him to spill them all, but I eventually found out that the ship had been impounded by the Rhineland Military for smuggling and stripped of most auxiliary parts. Worse, the ship was way out in Omega-15, and I would have to go there to retrieve it myself. And I would have to pay the fee to release it from impound. After some...heated negotiation, the price became even more reasonable, and I bought the license to the ship. I just had to go pick it up.

Instead of trying to find someone crazy enough to fly me out to Omega-15, I decided to do it myself. The price of a StarTracker was probably a lot less than what it would have cost me to pay someone else to do it. Fortunately for me, none of the pirates I ran into were interested in such a puny target. I got to Omega-15, and found my freighter in the secondary hangar of a Rhineland battleship. The ship was fully operational; lucky again for me, that IMG guy (or was he?) hadn't lied about that. It was also very dusty and smelled faintly of Cardamine. I paid the impound fee (curse the Rhineland military for extortion) and welded a new nameplate on: the Aedos was back. With what leave I had left, I made a few trading runs and picked up some more advanced equipment for her. The Navy even let me keep her parked at Willard: that surprised me a bit. They're so accommodating it almost seems desperate.

Meanwhile, it looks like I'm being redeployed to California Minor along with other SA pilots. It's not a big move from Willard Research station, but it'll be nice to get out of that cold ice cloud and onto... well, a cold icy rock. At least I'll be able to see the sun now. Naturally, I'll bring the Aedos with me--I'm sure the Navy will appreciate having their hangar space back. She's a good little freighter, although it seems her ID card has gotten out of whack. That Phantom who attacked me in Magellan must have knocked it loose...apparently the Aedos is broadcasting herself as a member of the Liberty Police! I'll have to fix that before the real police bust me for impersonating them.

--End Entry


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-24-2007

--Begin Entry--

It looks like an all-out war is brewing. I haven't been in any more all-out firefights with the HF since leaving Willard, but the scuttlebutt I've heard says that they're collecting allies for an all-out assault on Liberty space. They've got the Hessians on their side, and some mercenaries calling themselves the Asgard Warriors. Meanwhile, the SA has been forming some alliances of its own... the Sirius Federation and BSG have both come to our aid to defend Liberty. What calm there is now feels like the lull before the storm.

Like I said, recent patrols have been uneventful. The navy's issued me some new equipment for my fighter, hopefully it will be enough. Apparently, we're having some supply-line issues: the SA needs some help moving cargo around and funding ourselves. I don't see myself as a transport pilot, but I wonder if my friend Paul could possibly help. He's been trying to get into the shipping business for a while now; all he needs a sponsor to get him started. I'll have to see if I can get him in touch with Gurney or Nuss.

In the meantime, I'll continue some low-volume trading in the Aedos, and try to import some more ship parts and military vehicles from Bretonia and Rhineland. My ship was originally an IMG exploration vessel, so although her cargo hold isn't the biggest, she's tough and nimble enough to mine or trade unescorted anywhere in Sirius. Even small cargo runs can make a difference over time. I think I'll focus on bringing ship parts and military equipment into Liberty from Bretonia and Rhineland.

I've also decided I need to make sure I'm well armed enough to protect myself and those around me. The Zoners may seem peaceful, but they sell some of the biggest guns in Sirius. An arms dealer way out in Freeport 11 installed some Solaris guns on the Aedos, and they're as nasty as anything I've ever seen on a single-pilot ship. And just in case, I bought a whole crate of sidearms and blaster rifles from Detroit Munitions. I'll leave that in my ship, except for a pistol that I'll keep with me at all times. Life can be dangerous planetside too, and I may need those things yet.

Meanwhile, my fighter wing has been redeployed to Los Angeles. Now there's a planet. It has beaches! And air that you can breathe without freezing your lungs. I can't say I'm sorry that my stay on California Minor was so short. Still, I don't feel any safer. Rumor has it that the pirates are up to something big, and LA seems to me the most likely target. I think I'm going to sleep in my ship, protected by my shield and thick radiation-proof hull. I did it once on Cambridge because I didn't want to bother finding a hotel, and it saved my life...that was the day the Phantoms MOX-bombed the planet. I'll never forget being jolted awake and hearing the sirens and seeing the blackened faces of those who weren't as lucky as I was. That time, I was able to help in the rescue operation. This time, I hope I can be around to prevent another Cambridge...or worse.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-25-2007

--Begin Entry--

Finally worked out the bug with the Aedos's transponder. It took me several hours and the aid of a large hammer, but she now correctly identifies herself as a trade ship.

Also, note to self: never buy cheap sushi on LA. Artificial fish makes me sick. The imported stuff from Kusari is more expensive, but it's worth it.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-26-2007

--Begin Entry--

Left California in the Aedos hoping to make a trade run to New Berlin, but the pirates chose that time to attack California. I flew back at top speed, and launched my Avenger to help repel the attack. The battle went well: we had numbers on our side, and finally some capital ships to back us up. All enemy ships were forced to retreat, with no losses on our side. A Helghast ship was assisting the HF, and we had the help of the BSG and the 8492nd.

The SA finally decided to sponsor my friend Paul. His ship, the Eminescu, should be invaluable in securing funds and supplies for the Navy. Maybe I'll finally be able to get a nova cannon installed on my Avenger soon... all the pirates attack with are capital ships, and my fighter can't do much more than tickle them right now.

Apparently, the LWB have somehow gotten in league with the Phantoms. They attacked Stuttgart: I wasn't there, but word is that the good guys won. All in all, a good day for the free people of Sirius.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-28-2007

--Begin Entry--

While I was away, the SA had another successful battle against the HF and their allies. That's the good news. The bad news is that in a skirmish later while on patrol, I got shot down again by a single HF fighter. It's frustrating and embarassing. Put simply, he had both the better equipment and the greater flying skill. The equipment problem should be taken care of soon... but it's clear that I need a lot more training, especially in dogfight tactics.

The worst part is, the guy doesn't even understand what he is doing. He somehow thinks that he has a legitimate cause for war against Liberty, all because of some grievance that happened long ago in the past...he seems completely sincere about it. It's sad that a pilot with such skill should use his talents to destroy all that is good, rather than to defend it. I wonder what it would take to convince him that we are not the enemy?

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 01-30-2007

--Begin Entry--

I finally had some time to do some real exploring in the Aedos. There is nothing better in this universe than the joy of discovery, of seeing sights that perhaps no man has ever seen before. While cruising through the Omegas, I discovered a jump hole that I had never been through before. I prepped my ship and dived through the hole, and found myself emerging from the jump tunnel into a field of blue light. I blinked several times, somewhat dazzled, and then checked my radar. No less than a dozen Corsair fighters were within 1k of me! They hadn't attacked me yet, and were obviously trying to decide what I was up to. Time to talk.

"Um... this is the independent trade ship Aedos. Can I help you boys?"
"Aedos, we are currently running your ship through our identification database. If you value your life, please do not move."

This was odd. Why were they acting so businesslike? It's a good thing there was nothing of value in my hold: just a single crate of small arms that I keep in my ship at all times. Quietly, I prepared for trouble, although I never knew what to expect from the Corsairs. I spend enough time chasing their ships away from undefended traders that by all rights they should probably shoot me on sight, and yet they rarely do. I like to think that they tolerate me out of a grudging respect, but in reality I think they believe I caused more trouble to the Hessians to them, and am therefore worth keeping around. The comm channel sparked to life again.

"Aedos, you may continue. The residents have approved your presence."

The residents? Who the space are they? For now, though, it didn't matter. As quickly as I could without appearing to run, I engaged cruise and proceeded forward into a dust cloud, following the bright ion trail on my nav map. Even inside the cloud, I found myself squinting a bit at the refracted light. The cloud ended soon enough, and I found myself looking out on one of the most beautiful sights I had ever seen. A gorgeous planet lay before me, blue oceans and green land swirling attractively around each other underneath snowy clouds. For nearly a minute I could did nothing but stare.

When I regained my senses, I noticed that there was a docking ring in orbit around the planet. Someone DOES live here! From the looks of it, I thought, they couldn't have picked a nicer spot. Who were they? I would find out soon, some ships were leaving the planet through the docking ring...

Zoners? Here? How did they find this place? It didn't matter, at any rate, it appears I'd found my "residents." I knew they made deals with the Corsairs, but I had no idea it extended to them providing a front door guard service to the system. I also breathed a sigh of relief that I'd made an effort to be on good terms with the Zoners... no doubt it was their approval of me that prevented those Corsairs from vaporizing me on the spot.

"Aedos, you are cleared to land."

Odd, I hadn't asked for permission to. The flight of Zoner Eagle fighters forming up behind me, though, told me that it would be very unwise for me to not accept that "invitation." I guided my ship through the docking ring, and followed the nav beacons down to the surface. As I descended, I saw that my first impression of the planet had not been mistaken. I passed over green forests of some kind, out of which were here and there thrust towering spires of grey and brown rock. This, I thought, is a world unspoiled. Ahead of me was a small city, and I touched down on a landing pad near the outskirts.

After double-checking to make sure the air was breathable and the temperature comfortable, I opened my hatch to exit the ship, only to be greeted by a trio of helmets and rifles.

"Sir, please follow us."

Again, polite but forceful. I nodded, and they led me across a causeway towards a waiting ground shuttle. The city was as beautiful as the planet, full of tall white arches and gardens brimming with plants both alien and Terran. The shuttle trip was short: I soon found myself being escorted into some sort of office building. That was reassuring: at least it wasn't a prison or detention facility of some kind. Several elevators and corridors later, I found myself in front of a wide desk made of dark wood, behind which was seated a bald man I guessed was in his fifties.

"Welcome to our planet, Mr. Seldon. Please excuse our somewhat forced introduction, but we need to take every precaution. My name is Leroy Fenning. I'm sure you have many questions. First, I want to assure you that both you and your ship are safe and will not be harmed or restricted in any way. I've been reviewing your dealings with our people... most satisfactory."

I suppressed a nervous grin. Not all of those "satisfactory" records were genuine, although they had certainly been expensive.

"Second, you need to understand that your knowledge of this place must be kept an absolute secret. The beauty and tranquility you have seen are made possible by the fact that very few people know about its existence. Even among our own people, the existence of this planet is little more than a rumor."

"The Corsairs really keep this place secret?" I blurted. The incredulity on my face must have been obvious.
"They do. The Corsairs, Mr. Seldon, are extremely good at keeping secrets. Extremely good. So far, we've been able to trust them. And we've needed their help to keep the entrances to this system hidden and guarded."

The "so far" was telling... the straining of relations between the Zoners and the Corsairs was no secret. I wondered how much of that strain was related to this planet.
"But why..." I started.
"...don't the Corsairs just take the system for themselves? Don't worry, we've taken measures to prevent that. One that I can safely tell you is simply that of those who see the planet, many of them choose to remain with us."

That made sense, although I wondered what other "measures" the Zoners had up their sleeve. I knew for a fact that they weren't nearly as peaceful as they looked, and I was willing to bet my ship that they would fight like demons when pressed, especially for a place like this. If the Zoners had a Holy Land, this planet was it. And who could blame them?

"Mr. Seldon, imagine what would happen if the rest of Sirius knew about this place."

I did, and it was all too easy. The Gaians would attack anyone who came near it. Corporations would try to harvest its resources, build trade lanes in the system, and set up mining operations. The houses would squabble over it, and fill the system with the smoke of war. Sirius was full of that already, living down the mistakes made by past generations. This place, however, was brimming with hope. On this planet, there was still a chance to get things right. At that moment, I decided that I was not going to be the one to ruin that.
"Mr...Fenning, right? You have my word. I'll keep this place secret. Heck, if it comes to it, I'll even fight to defend it."
"Thank you, Mr. Seldon. I knew that you would understand."
"Oh, one condition. When I retire, I want to live here."
Fenning smiled. "On, that, Mr. Seldon, you have my word."

My stay planet-side wasn't very long; it was soon time for me to return to my duties in the Navy. The transition wasn't easy: as I spooled up my engines for the flight through the jump hole, my mind was full of visions of the place I was leaving behind...at least for now.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 02-05-2007

--Begin Entry--

I just wasted 72 hours trying to get myself a new Trader's license for the Aedos. Blasted bureaucrats. At least they finally gave it to me... for a while, I wasn't sure they would.

I got a call yesterday morning. "Mr. Seldon?" the voice on the intercom droned.
"That's me." I replied.
"Excellent. This is Hans Jefferson from Liberty Licensing Services. We're currently processing your application for a private trader's license, and we would like to inspect your ship."
"Is that really necessary?"
"I'm afraid it is, Mr. Seldon. We'll be at the spaceport in one hour. Please be there on time."

Well, that was unexpected. Last time I applied for a license, they hadn't even asked to see my ship. This time, they were demanding it. A quick flip through the licensing documents confirmed that ship inspection was not part of the licensing procedure. I threw on my jacket and hurried to the spaceport.

Twenty minutes later, walking up the corridor towards hangar 324-D, I was surprised to find that the door was open. I ran inside, and saw my cargo hold opened and a service vehicle parked nearby. My ship had been boarded. The "inspectors," apparently, had intended for me to show up after their inspection was already complete. Before I could think about this further, I saw and heard the sparks of a metal-cutter coming from inside my opened cargo hold. "WHAT THE SPACE ARE YOU DOING TO MY SHIP?" I yelled, my voice echoing through the hangar. There was a moment, then the sparks stopped. A man appeared in the hold entrance, flanked by a pair of armed guards. He spoke, and I recognized his deadpan voice from earlier.
"Good morning, Mr. Seldon. We took the liberty of beginning the inspection without you. I'm sure you will appreciate our efforts to expedite the registration process."
Was I really supposed to believe that was his motive? "Mr. Jefferson, is it standard inspection procedure to cut holes in people's ships?"

He smiled, a thin patronizing grimace. My fist twitched at my side. "Come aboard," he said. I did, and the guards stepped in behind me. Why did they think I was going to make a run for it?
"Mr. Seldon, could you please explain these?" He pointed. As my eyes adjusted to the dark, I saw that he was referring to my crate of blaster rifles and pistols.
"Yes," I replied. "Those are for my protection. I have a right to own them, what's the problem?"
"There is no problem, Mr. Seldon," he said. "But we are led to wonder why a private trader would need such things."
"I have them," I replied as calmly as I could, "in case someone tries to board my ship without permission."
Jefferson didn't even blink. "Very well."
"Now could you please tell me what you were just doing to my ship? And please don't tell me it's standard procedure."

He didn't, but he didn't tell me what it was either. "We were inspecting the ship's identification plate."
The ID plate was just some numbers that are unique to every spaceship manufactured in the houses of Sirius. I'd looked at it myself earlier in order to fill out the license application. His answer didn't make sense: you don't inspect an ID plate with a metal-cutter. I told him so.
"Mr. Seldon," he said, a trace of exasperation creeping into his monotonic voice. Finally, some humanity. "Would you please look closely at your ID plate?"

I did, and noticed something that I hadn't before. The ID plate was a thin piece of metal that had been welded on: it wasn't part of the original hull, as the ID plate should be. Jefferson had been using the metal-cutter to remove the extra plate from the hull...
"Ah. I see. You're trying to see if my ship was stolen."
"I'm glad, Mr. Seldon, that you understand. Now may I please continue?"
"Will I get my license if I say no?"
"No."
"Then get this over with."

I had to admit, I was curious to see what was underneath. I didn't know much about the history of my ship before I bought her and named her the Aedos. I suspected that she was used to smuggle Cardamine once, but had she been stolen? Jefferson, despite his deadpan bureaucratic facade, proved to be handy with a cutter. He quickly finished his work, and the ID plate clanged to the floor. He turned off the cutter, the sparks disappeared, we both blinked as we adjusted to the dim light.

There was nothing there: just the smooth wall of the cargo hold and some scorch marks from the cutter.

I breathed a sigh of relief. Jefferson sighed. "Mr. Seldon, your license will be activated by tomorrow morning. We apologize for the inconvenience."

He wasted no time in leaving, signaling to the guards to follow him as he left. I was left standing in my hold, the ID plate in my hands, muttering to myself that the least he could have done was weld the plate back on. I looked again at the spot where the welded ID plate had been, ran my fingers over it...then paused. What HAD happened to the original ID plate?

For now, though, it didn't matter. This mystery could wait. I reattached the extra ID plate, just below where it had been before, leaving the strange smoothness and the cutter's burn marks uncovered. Maybe I'd find answers later...

--End Entry--

--Begin Entry--

For some reason, the Liberty Navy really likes me. They've put me in charge of the 383rd Fighter Wing, assigned to Los Angeles and the LNS-Phoenix. Honestly, it's more responsibility than I ever cared for, but they think I'm the man for the job, and I'm too stubborn to tell them they're wrong. If they are, they'll have to find out for themselves. In the meantime, we're mobilizing and preparing for some action out around Tau-31. It seems the Brets have contracted the Colonials to help break the blockade around Planet Harris, and we have orders to help. In short, we're doing something just short of going to war with Kusari... a risky and bold move, if you ask me. At least we're finally doing something.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 02-10-2007

--Begin Entry--

I'll admit it: I'm scared. Someone's after me, and I'm not even sure who. Until I know what's going on, I'm sleeping in the Aedos's cargo hold, right next to my crate of firearms. My before-bed routine now consists of raising my ship shields and activating a proximity alarm that will tell me if anyone comes near me. I've even moved to an outside landing pad... less private, but it means that I can get away in a hurry if I need to. Yes, it's paranoid, but can you blame me?

It started earlier today. I was on a routine patrol for the Navy in my Avenger. As I entered the Texas system, I opened a comm channel to the Battleship Mississippi to let them know that I was beginning my patrol. There was an oddly long pause, then a voice:
"Copy."
Where had I heard that voice? It sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn't place it. It wasn't, however, the voice of the Mississippi dispatcher, and a glance at my comm board confirmed that my signal was going somewhere else. Was this some sort of Lane Hacker trick?
"Who are you?" I asked. "And how did you get onto this channel?"
"We've been watching you, Mr. Seldon," the voice responded. "I would not be the one asking questions."

This was odd. Whoever it was, they knew my name: well, that wouldn't be too hard for a Hacker to figure out. And that almost-threat: I wouldn't put that kind of bravado past them either. Hackers are as cocky as they come. Well, he'll want to talk. And I'd let him talk: while I contacted Houston on an alternate frequency and coordinated to arrest him. To my consternation, my other comms were all jammed. This guy was good: I could still trace him myself, at least. But to do that, I needed to keep him on the line.

"Look, I'm guessing you're some hacker. If I were you, I'd log off before you get traced and thrown in jail. A life of crime isn't worth it, pal."
I winced. Not the best words I could've chosen, but they'd have to do. For several seconds, there was no response, but the channel stayed open. It seemed to be coming from somewhere near planet Houston: I found a trade lane ring and made my way in that direction. Come on, hacker, I thought. Stay on the line. The comm channel suddenly crackled to life.

"Mr. Seldon, we know what you found. What you found in the Aedos."
What is this guy talking about? At any rate, he knew way too much about me. I've "found" lots of stuff in the Aedos, and a lot of them could spell trouble, especially...oh space.
"I'm afraid I have no idea what you're talking about." Only partially true. The sinking feeling in my stomach told me otherwise.
"She's a fine ship, Mr. Seldon. I felt sorry when I had 3 holes drilled into her."
WHAT? A week ago, I have someone board my ship without permission to see if it was stolen. Lucky for me, they didn't find the evidence they were looking for. Now, someone else is telling me they've messed with my ship. I bristled: nobody messes with the Aedos. Was he trying to tell me that I'd been bugged? The Voice spoke again before I could respond.

I don't remember his exact words, but he told me that I had been tracked to The Planet.

This was bad. Somebody knew I'd been to a place whose secret I had promised to preserve. Well, the Planet isn't a perfect secret. There are all sorts of rumors, but most of them are far enough from truth to keep it safe and secure. Still, I felt guilty for having betrayed a confidence, even unwittingly. But to who? The voice spoke again.
"You know too much, Mr. Seldon."
"Too much for who?" I snapped over the comm. "Look, you still haven't explained who you are or why I should believe anything you say."

Bingo, I thought. My scanners showed a ship dead ahead, in high orbit over Houston. The signal was coming straight from it. The ship came into scanning range...

Navy? The ship's transponder broadcasted that it was a Liberty Navy ship! The ID codes were even all in place, and those are nearly impossible to fake. Even stranger was the ship itself: a sleek black fighter of a type I'd never seen before, armed with weapons I wasn't familiar with but that were clearly powerful enough to dust me effortlessly. Comms chirped to life again.
"Well, Mr. Seldon, I'm glad you can read my transponder signal. If you want answers, follow me."

Well, here was a pickle. I'd tracked this guy down, only to find that I'd placed myself at the mercy of his clearly superiour ship. Follow him? He had me practically hostage...I had no choice.
"I don't suppose you'd tell me if I asked where we're going?" I said.
No response...I'd have to take that as a no. We flew away from Houston for a while, then the black ship suddenly stopped and turned to face me. Those strange shiny weapons, meters away from my ship, were making me very nervous.
The voice said, "The Department of Defense has decided that you know...too much."

That floored me. This guy was claiming to be from the DoD? That's impossible! They're the good guys! The good guys don't DO things like this!
"This is the end of the line," the voice said.

That did it. I was out of there. I hit my burners, speeding past the dark ship, then started diving and spinning wildly while my cruise engines spooled up. Strangely, I didn't detect any incoming fire, but that didn't matter. Whoever this guy was, it sounded like he was planning to execute me. I could hardly believe it when I made it into cruise unscratched and started speeding towards Houston. If he had been planning to kill me, why didn't he fire? A quick scanner check showed that I was being followed, and a comm transmission gave me an idea why I was still alive...for now.

The voice demanded that I tell him about the Planet.

Ah. He wanted information, whoever he was. Well, he wasn't going to get it. There are some secrets that I'll keep even from the House and people that I love. I'll save them from themselves if I have to. And a strange man threatening my life and abusing my Aedos was most definitely not getting anything out of me.

Suddenly, the black fighter dropped out of cruise and fired. A pair of cruise disruptors sped towards my Avenger. I dropped several countermeasure charges... fortunately, they worked. By the time that fighter got his cruise engines spooled up again, I would be out of range, safe for now. An irritated voice reminded me that I wasn't in fact safe at all.
"Mr. Seldon, I'll be in touch with your superiors. Expect repercussions."
"Good," I responded. "I trust them."
A couple of seconds later, my comms flashed to life again, but not from the mystery man this time. I was being hailed by the LNS Thunderbolt! Finally, a ship I knew with a captain I trusted: Captain Rhaegar.
"Hello Commander," I said.
"Hello Commander," he said. Wait, that's not right... I'm no commander! Who was he talking to? "Do we have combat ops coming up?"
"Yes," replied the voice. Oh space. Rheagar was reporting to this guy... maybe he really was DoD... OH SPACE. What did this mean? My head spun. When I recovered, I realized that the Thunderbolt was trying to talk to me.
"What just happened?" Rheagar was asking me.

I spent the next several minutes explaining to him what I had just experienced. He seemed genuinely concerned, and agreed that something was not right. However, he also confirmed that the mysterious man's credentials checked out completely.
"If you go missing for more than a day I'm coming after you," Rheagar said. His tone was joking, but I could tell that he meant it.
"Much appreciated."

Once I landed, my first instinct was to find a place to hide where nobody could find me. But what if I was being followed? All in all, I thought, I'd be safer in my ship. Maybe. Who was this guy and what did he want from me? What about the Planet was so important to him? That puzzled me the most. It couldn't be the location he was after: if he'd been tracking my ship, he knew it already. I've been thinking about my conversation on the Planet with Leroy Fenning, but nothing stands out.

Wait... what if my ship wasn't ever tracked at all? What if it was only a bluff? Possible, but how likely? At any rate, not a risk I'm willing to take. As soon as I get the chance, I'm going to get my ship scanned for tracking devices and have them removed.

--End Entry--




Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 02-13-2007

--Begin Entry--

Things are looking up today... I think. I've found out some important things and made a few moves of my own, and I feel a bit more in control of the situation. That said, I'm still sleeping in my cargo hold.

The first thing I did this morning was to take some leave from the Navy and head to planet Manhattan in the Aedos. I told them I needed to get her transponder fixed, and that it shouldn't take long. I made the journey as quickly as I could: knowing that her every movement was probably being tracked has taken a lot of the joy out of flying her. I half expected to see a black ship appear out of nowhere and blast me into stardust. Fortunately, the trip was uneventful.

I landed on a public pad, then headed for a nearby shopping center. I needed a public access computer terminal to which I couldn't be traced. There were several in Universal Malls, I picked the nearest. After waiting in line for a few minutes, I entered a private booth and sat down. A quick check assured me that there were no cameras... good. This would do.
"Computer, where can I go to get my transponder repaired?"
"Too many results," an annoying electronic voice answered. "Listings displayed on-screen."
Checking the screen, I saw that there were several hundred places listed.
"Filter by location," I said. "Show only locations in the undercity." I figured that the undercity was more likely to have the kind of shops I was looking for: shops where questions would not be asked.
"Filtering..." the computer droned. The screen flickered, and now there were only a couple dozen results instead of hundreds. I saw one that looked just right... but what if someone was watching what I looked at?
"Computer, print results."
A translucent sheet shot out of the terminal. I picked it up, and verified that it had the information I wanted. If someone was watching me, they would know which shops I looked at. Only I would know which one of the entries on the sheet I had chosen...an entry for a shop with no name, no description, and no contact information except for the street address.

I paid my fee, left the terminal, and headed to find an air-taxi. This part would be tricky. Most of the taxis in the city are flown by robots, but robots can't be bribed. So, I waited several minutes until a dirty gray taxi floated into the pickup-dropoff zone. It was missing a spoiler, and was labeled in bright letters as Tom's Discount Taxi Service. Perfect. I casually walked up to the open passenger door, and leaned in.
"Hey there," I said. "How's business?"
The answer I got was halfway between a grunt and a sneer. The pilot was a surly man of indeterminate age, wearing a gaudy checkered yellow-and-black hat with a torn jacket that was probably once blue.
"Look, I need a ride to this address." I pointed at a certain entry on the sheet.
The taxi pilot rolled his eyes enough to glance at it, and grunted again. He held up his hand, four fingers extended.
"Four hundred?" I asked. An angry grunt. Apparently I was off by an order of magnitude. Discount service indeed.
I nodded, and showed him a thousand-credit bill.
"How about I give you ten of these, and you make sure that nobody follows us?"
Now, I was speaking his language: I think he almost smiled. He gave me a shrug that I could only interpret as "get in." I climbed aboard, the door shut, and we sped away.

The next 15 minutes were some of the most terrifying of my life. The driver could somehow see holes in traffic before they opened up: we would fly straight at a mass of aircars and they would part just in time, then immediately close up behind us. If anyone had been trying to follow us, there's no way they would have succeeded. That, at least was good. When the trip was done, I found myself standing on a street that was literally paved in trash. Whatever had fallen from above had simply been steamrolled into a more or less flat surface. I paid the taxi driver, and told him there'd be another ten thousand if he took me back when I was done. He grunted and parked his taxi in a dark corner nearby.

When I turned, I found a store in front of me with a flashing neon sign that said "Equipment." The door wasn't even automatic: I had to actually turn a handle to open it. Inside, it was dark, and there were ship pieces everywhere. Rusted half-wings served as tables to display equipment of all kinds and in all states of repair. At the other end of the shop, behind a counter, was a man who had obviously seen better days. The parts of him that weren't covered in wrinkles were usually covered in cybernetic implants. He turned to face me when I entered, and what I think was his one real eye rolled toward me and glared.
"Can I help you?" He growled.

I decided it would be best to get straight to the point. "I think my ship's been bugged," I said. "I need that bug removed."
He nodded, satisfied, and his demeanor lightened by several shades. "Yeah, I can do that for you." He said. "Thing is, I have to get to it. If it's bugged, you better not bring it here. So you better have a plan for getting me to it with all of my equipment."
I paused. Unfortunately, I hadn't thought of that.
The dealer grimaced... I think he was trying to smile, but those parts of his face responsible for smiling largely didn't exist anymore. "Or, I have another option."
Probably an expensive one, I thought.
"I have a device," he continued, "that jams signals from tracking devices. It's even programmable: you can make it look like you are anywhere in Sirius."
Interesting, but I wasn't convinced, and I wasn't going to let him sell me easy. If nothing else, it would cost me twice as much that way.
"Look," I said. "I'm not even sure that I HAVE a bug."
He grimaced again. "Yes you are. If you weren't, you wouldn't be here." I paused.
"Look," he said. "Have you noticed anything strange in your comm system? Strange spikes and blackouts, random noise, things like that?"
Actually, now that he mentioned it, I had. I nodded.
"These devices all work in the same way. They piggyback on your comm system to call home and report your position. The device I have will intercept those calls, and if you want, it will rewrite them. Like I said, as far as whoever's watching you is concerned, you can make yourself appear to be anywhere in Sirius." He held up a black box about the size of my open hand.
I believed him this time. In my experience, people like this are usually quite honest in their own way... with the clients they usually have, they know what'll happen to them if they cheat them.

I nodded. "How much?"
"Two million," was the immediate response.
Ouch... that was steep. Instinct told me it was unwise, but I decided to try haggling anyway. "As simple as you make it sound," I replied, "I doubt that such a device could cost more than 1.5 million."
"Alright," he said with a shrug. That was too easy, I thought.
"By the way, " he said, "Don't you want to pick up something else as well? Say, a new transponder? It'll make your shopping trip look less suspicious."
"Yeah, that sounds good." I replied. Transponders usually went for a couple thousand credits at most. "How much?"
"Five hundred thousand credits," he replied with a grimace.

The taxi ride back was uneventful, and I installed my new transponder and my new "toy" myself. The dealer was right: I was bugged. The jamming device picked it up immediately, and even told me where it was sending homing signals to: Manhattan. Looks like someone in Liberty was tracking me after all. Well, from now on, I would only be tracked when I wanted to be tracked. I smiled, for the first time in days. I had my freedom back.

--End Entry--


Tannik Seldon's Personal Log - sushi - 03-12-2007

--Begin Entry--

Well, I'm back from leave. Naturally, I took the Aedos... leave isn't leave unless you're flying your own ship. This leave is officially authorized, so technically I am allowed to go where I please...but I still don't like the idea of somebody tracking me. So, I went to planet Baden Baden and spent a day there. After that, I activated the Aedos's new jammer and configured it so that whoever has been tracking me would read that I was still there. It's a wonderful little gadget.

Since then, I've been exploring the edges of known space and beyond. This is life! This is freedom! Going where I like, exploring and trading. Still, I found myself coming back often to a certain beautiful planet deep in Omega space. Somehow, it has become a second home to me, dearer in many ways than even my own home on Manhattan. I love Liberty, and I'm still committed to defend it with my life from those who would destroy it. Yet it will never truly be home again. I don't belong there, surrounded by the noise and grime that pollutes both the planet and the space around it. I belong in the beauty and peace and hope on the edge of space. It's hard to explain, even to myself. If it were only about me, I would simply run off and join the Zoners. But it's not just about me! There are people in Liberty who need to be protected from those who would destroy them. I can't just stand by and watch pirates and terrorists assail them... I have to help how I can.

That's why I'm back. That's why I ignored the temptation that plagues me still, the temptation to leave everything and everyone behind and start a new life. I could never live with myself if I did. But as long as my haven is safe and waiting for me, I can bear to leave it behind and fight the evils that plague the free people of Sirius. But I will always go back for the double sunset and quiet, peaceful cafe where they serve wild prune-based drinks. And I will always come back to bask in the hope of a new and better life that shines in the eyes of everyone who lives there.

Time to report for duty.

--End Entry--