First of all I would like to express my gratitute for providing me with a safe haven from the clutches of corporate oppression and a place where a person can be free to pursue his technological fancies, far beyond where the syndicates dare to venture for fear of losing their economic interests.
It was only hours ago that I, after having been the slave of the Liberty money machine for so many years, finally took the plunge and made good my escape in one of their government funded rustbuckets. Yet it already seems like years for all the roundabout ways and danger-filled moments it took me.
First to find and reach Rochester, underway accosted by corporate lackeys, Xenos and rogues alike, where I could ditch my obviously easily traceable ride and sell it for scrap to the Junkers.
Having no liquid assets to speak of except the few measly credits I received for the servicable parts of my former mode of transportation and the Junkers being wary of Neural Net transactions I was forced to facilitate my transport to Buffalo as a stowaway on a Liberty Rogue freighter hauling H-Fuel, afterwards having to sufficiently convince the captain of my good intentions, who was fortunately more eager to accept the virtual funds I offered.
Only to find that the rogues there all but welcomed such as myself, being inches away from getting ejected from the airlock like so much garbage before I managed to convince them that some of the information I carried might be of value to them. Which forced me to relinquish some of the more profitable trade route schedules and even some schematics for an improved lane defense and security system, although I was able to withold the log files I had accumulated over the years containing some extremely volatile details that would spell doom for several of the Ageira bigwigs. The proper application of which I think is a task more suited to the Lane Hackers and would never give the rogues the same amount of satisfaction.
After delivering the data to them and agreeing to send the decryption keys upon my safe arrival at Mactan, in order to escape with my skin intact, they even provided me with one of their Dagger light fighters, but I suspect this is only so they can keep a bead on me, ensuring that I do not turn around and sell the location of their base to any interested parties and allowing them to find me to collect their decryption keys should I for some reason neglect to transmit them.
And so, having to outwit several BHG patrols on the way, which most likely recognized the ship as a pirate vessel, I finally arrived in the ice fields of Magellan and requested docking clearance at Mactan, to commence my training as a Lane Hacker.
It was one of the hardest things I had ever done, but I had felt something I had not felt for many years. The thrill of excitement, the strange warm glow somewhere in the abdominal regions of finally doing something worth doing. Living on the edge, but most importantly, living. Instead of being just another cog in the syndicate treadmill of credits and apathy.
Being employed on the same base for most of my adult life, my piloting skills are mediocre at best. Nevertheless, I have designed some, at the moment very rudimentary, automated routines which allow a ship's systems to take care of most of the basics of navigation and combat, leaving the pilot with having to take care of much less tedious aiming and firing and flying around in circles.
These designs are far from perfect and I am at the moment still coping with its annoying tendency to crash into solid objects, but in time, I would like to continue pioneering this technology, perhaps eventually even completely removing the necessity of a human pilot, at least for the more straightforward sort of missions using relatively expendable assets.
Because our numbers are not great, so why should we be risking our lives while we are so much better at using our intellect to avoid such reckless waste?
Ah well, one can dream.
During my training you will most likely find me somewhere around Mactan field-testing and improving on these systems. Please keep an eye out for my distress-beacon, for my escape pod might require some transportation back to safety after another unfortunate collission with a big chunk of ice.
Sacrifices must be made in the name of progress, or so they say.
Max Zorin out.
...encryption.in.progress...hack.terminated...
Max Zorin - Pharmaceutically enhanced engineering of automated combat routines for shipboard computer systems.
Strength: Programming microchips to dodge big rocks. Weakness: Dodging big rocks.
Today I had an uncomfortably close brush with the law, from which I narrowly escaped with my ship intact.
I had been testing my automated combat navigational systems in Cortez earlier today and had found that to succesfully navigate asteroid fields at max thruster I needed a specially designed high-definition ultra high framerate optical sensor.
Not finding exactly what I wanted at Mactan, I figured the Junkers might have one lying around amongst their miscellany of salvaged gadgets and knick-knacks.
So I made my way over to Rochester, carefully avoiding the use of lanes and gates to keep my profile to a minimum while traversing heavily patrolled Liberty space.
This almost turned out to be a very big mistake.
I did arrive safely at Rochester and somewhere amongst their characteristically Junker-style (read: dis-) organized collection of assorted, well, junk mostly, I eventually found exactly what I was looking for.
Fortunately they had no idea what the item I had carefully removed from its former casing inside the stripped-down wreck of an experimental LSF light fighter really was and they were willing to part with it for not even one hundredth of its actual value.
Glad about this relatively easy success I boarded my Dagger, fired up the engines and requested clearance to undock from Rochester, planning to head back to Mactan where I had all the equipment at hand required to install my latest find.
But my good mood was short-lived when upon exiting the airlock my sensors immediately picked up a hostile vessel.
I tried to power up my cruise engines and make my escape for the Colorado jump hole as quickly as possible, but of course it was already too late.
The vessel, which turned out to be a bounty hunter staking out outside Rochester, identified itself as [Core]Firesilver, demanded my immediate surrender and entered pursuit.
Obviously not very eager for an extended visit to Sugarland I did not comply but instead tauntingly asked him how he managed to know the location of the Junker base which had remained hidden from Liberty law enforcement for so long, while dodging and weaving through the debris field, avoiding every cruise disrupter missile he sent after me, aided by the evasive manoeuvres I had painstakingly programmed to be as erratic as possible, but mostly aided by sheer luck.
His only reply to my query was "From the bounty hunter files".
I was dumb-struck.
So the bounty hunters had information about the location of Rochester. How long have they known? Why have they allowed it to exist? Did they find it by accident, or foul play? Or worse, are the Junkers and bounty hunters secretely conspiring? It suddenly struck me that none of the Junkers going in and out of Rochester during my visit there had had any run-ins with this bounty hunter, but as soon as I cleared the airlock he had been sitting there, well within sensor range of the base.
This was not the time for contemplation, though. The bounty hunter, who heavily outgunned me, was still hot on my tail and any second now my luck would run out and he would have me at his mercy, which was not a very welcome prospect.
I decided that, instead of trying to get all the way to the jump hole, my best bet would be to circle back to Rochester and send them a distress-call.
The call was answered and as soon as I returned within range of the base it opened fire on my pursuer, as did several Junker vessels which were in the area, which alleviated my concerns for a Junker-BHG conspiracy somewhat, although not entirely.
Soon after, a Liberty Rogue patrol also arrived in the area and opened fire on the suddenly heavily outnumbered tresspasser, who apparently then decided it was not worth the risk and took off.
I docked at Rochester again to catch my breath and a much needed drink to calm my nerves, but decided not to hang around and return to Mactan as soon as possible to report this incident.
Seems to me it would be advisable to steer clear of Rochester, or any Junker bases for that matter, until the source of this leak (if this is indeed the case) has been pinpointed and satisfactorily dealt with, as well as all related data erased from the files of law enforcement agencies.
Max Zorin out.
...encryption.in.progress...hack.terminated...
Max Zorin - Pharmaceutically enhanced engineering of automated combat routines for shipboard computer systems.
Strength: Programming microchips to dodge big rocks. Weakness: Dodging big rocks.
You were right .... the slobbering LSF and their friends have no idea.... I've now taken out enough clowns to make my passage to Buffalo free of .... encumberment, to be polite.. and I've negotiated the landing access codes with the Rogues..
But ... I'm gonna hang aound here for a while to make my journey all the more pleasant and gentle.., So's
i can purchase the needed ship for further training when I finally arrive there.
1. The Colonial Remnant, =CR=, has pompously embarked on a course of war with our allies the Mollys. All =CR= trade vessels are to be stopped, inspected, and only allowed to proceed after transmitting financial compensation to us for delivery to the Mollys' orphans who are suffering the loss of their parents after the Colonial Remnant's dastardly attacks. Any =CR= combat craft in the Dublin system are now high priorities for elimination. The Assassins are directed to mobilize against their aggression immediately. All .:UOG:. vessels requesting assistance against =CR= are to be given top priority.
2. All Lane Hackers should extend congratulations to Lane Hacker Le Chiffre. After months of valiant, persistent, and dedicated service, Le Chiffre is hereby promoted to the rank of Lane Hacker Director, making him second in command. His recent single-handed destruction of a Bretonian Battleship and Liberty Dreadnought have provided our interrogation specialists with 2 Fleet Commanders who are providing us with vital intelligence data about fleet dispositions.
...encryption.in.progress...hack.terminated...
Currently in development of :
Nefarious Plots, Shrewd Schemes, Infamous Cabals, Canny Conspiracies, Devious Ruses, Machiavellian Machinations, Insidious Subterfuges, & Wily Stratagems
Assignment to capture the Fleet Commanders of Bretonian Battleship Grasmoor and Liberty Dreadnought Gila initially seemed to be a impossible for a single bomber. I preceded everthing by serveral test on diverse ships. A cruiser class vessels didn't stand for long under piericing his hull from Falcata's guns but I wasn't still sure how it will look against somthing much mor larger then the cruisers.
Intelligence reports indicated increased presence of patrols around planet Leeds, so basing on those informations I headed there. I did few rounds around planet searching for signs of BAF patrols and as I supposed it didn't take long before they found me. Battleship with the assistance of two cruisers and few fighters come into range on my scanners. Those heavy armored fighters are very lethal, so I decided to take them down as first. Then I turned all my concetration on the Battleship. Its hull atomic disgronification provided a great lights show:
Shortly after I docked at Mactan Base for repairs and resupply. During the mechanics were doing their job I recived further informations from intelligents agents but this time my target was located in California near somewere around planet Los Angeles. When everthing was full efficient I headed to California. When I droped the trade lane not far from planet, the Navy patrol almost (Dreadnought, two Cruisers and few Figthers) popped me on the head. It almost ended not well but everthing was under control. At the end of the fight I was rewarded with another breathtaking lights show:
Both Fleet Commanders were immediately transported and handed over to our interrogation specialists.
Logging out.
...encryption.in.progress...hack terminated...
I dont wanna be a product of my environment, I want my environment to be a product of me.
His face became lit by a playful sequence of red and green lights as he powered up his ship's systems.
Hours of staking out in the eerie darkness at the edge of the Badlands had produced nothing so far.
The Lane Hacker trainee known as Max Zorin had been tasked by his Senior Director to gather intelligence on Liberty law enforcement patrol paths, vessels and operatives, as part of his training.
Having found no stray patrols closer to his new home at Mactan and not daring to traverse the open space that surrounded the corporate strongholds in California and Colorado, he had decided to venture into the lion's den and try his luck under the cover of the Badlands' electrostatic discharges, which he hoped would render him invisible to the sensors of the patrols until he was close enough to make his move.
"Damn corporate tools," he sighed, while he added to himself, "nothing has changed during all these centuries of law enforcement history. Always ready to rain on your parade when you don't need them, but when you do need them, they're nowhere to be found."
"Oh well, I'm starving and my oxygen supply is running low, so I'd better head for Buffalo."
As his on-board systems had all powered up and showed a green for "go", he fired up his cruise engines and turned a vertical 180, back towards the Rogues' base.
At the same moment his scanners suddenly showed a hostile contact. And then another one. And then two more.
He quickly hit the reverse thrusters until he was stationary again and cut all power to his systems, save his scanner.
Several more contacts showed up while he methodically recorded every vessel's IFF and checked it against his fighter's database, until the little screen was glowing with red dots.
"Navy, the lot of them," he concluded. "It's a frecking Jamboree out there. What in Hades would they be up to?"
For a few suspenseful seconds he was torn in doubt. "If I flee now they'll definitely notice the sudden increase in power emmission and might pursue to investigate," he figured. "Then again, Rogues hang out in these parts all the time and a single fighter hardly poses a threat."
"Besides, chasing me into the heart of the Badlands is against their regulations, isn't it? But on the other hand, there's bound to be one or two rookies who want to show off and make a fool of themselves by chasing a lone pirate."
Although he had recently made considerable improvements to the heavily modded and customized combat systems of his Dagger, he doubted his ship would be a match for even a couple of rookies in their expensive government funded Liberator fighters.
And although he had had satisfactory results after field-testing his latest modification to his vessel's automated navigational systems, a dogfight in the Badlands was a totally different league compared to dodging chunks of ice while blasting Bounty Hunters in The Barrier.
One wrong move and his shields would be gone, his hull exposed to a lucky hit from an over-eager soldier boy.
He decided to sit this one out.
Silence filled the cockpit, punctuated only by the thumping of his heart and the sound of his breathing, which he attempted to keep shallow to conserve his limited oxygen.
The small fleet appeared to have picked this exact spot for a little rendezvous, as none of the vessels showed any signs of moving on.
"With my luck they're gonna do some routine excursions into the Badlands," Max thought. "And here is me, sitting right at the edge in my little toy fighter, all powered down and totally defenseless, ready to be made an example of."
"I should've known going to New York would be a bad idea after my last experience here. I really hate this place."
Several minutes passed and still the navy ships showed no signs of leaving.
"Just a few more minutes of oxygen left," he noticed. "I have to move soon or I won't even be able to make it back to Buffalo."
"Wait a second, I should be able to rig up the tank from my escape pod to the ship's circulation system. That should buy me some extra time."
Working feverishly, he hooked up the emergency oxygen tank to the cockpit's air supply, while keeping one eye on his scanner.
"There, that should give me at least a few minutes extra," he thought, as he sat back in his chair to resume the waiting game.
Again several minutes passed and although the navy ships had appeared to start moving around a bit, they were clearly not in a hurry to vacate the area.
"I can't wait any longer," Max decided. "I have to move now or all they'll find is a suffocated corpse."
Just as he was about to take his chances, a group of three vessels detached themselves from the cluster of contacts on his scanner and started to move in the direction where Max was hiding.
"Oh great. There we go. Well Max, time to show what you're made of," he thought.
"Water mostly, come to think of it. Although I'd prefer not to be in a position to find out," he observed with his usual morbid sense of humor.
"Well, better not let this chance to complete my mission go to waste," he thought as the vessels came within range of his short-range scanners.
He quickly scanned the three vessels and recorded model and pilot ID.
The first two turned out to be Liberator fighters, the third one a Liberty Gunboat.
"A gunboat? Into the Badlands? What a nutcase." Max thought.
The gunboat pilot seemed to be thinking along the same lines, because the patrol came to a halt about 3K away and the fighters set off in opposite directions, probably to do a recon sweep of the area.
As the navy fighters circled around, one of them was heading straight for the Dagger, still conceiled from sight and scanners in the stormy darkness.
Max's sweaty palm was resting on his console, ready to power up and drop on top of the fighter with everything he got. Which wasn't all that much, he had to concede.
"Any closer now and I'll be able to count the pimples on his face," he thought as his finger twitched near the power switch.
Breathing had become hard and he was starting to feel faint and light-headed.
His concentration must have sagged for a second due to this and he was suddenly startled to find the navy fighter right in front of him.
He was staring straight into its cockpit and there he saw the other pilot, staring right back at him.
At first he was surprised by the appearance of the other pilot.
"A woman. Well, yeah, the navy employs female pilots too of course. I knew that. You just never expect them to be. It sortof doesn't really fit with the image."
After this had sunk in, a rather bigger surprise hit him.
"Why is my ship still intact? She could've obliterated me by now. And why the hell am I not shooting? Must be the lack of oxygen to the brain causing me to not think straight."
Yet with all the force of will he could muster in his dazed condition, he could not bring himself to fire on a fellow human being he could see so up close. One that wasn't actively trying to kill him, although she had all the reasons she needed to do so. A woman, at that.
Musing thusly he sunk away into another lapse of consciousness, until he was suddenly rudely awakened by an alert from his ship's computer.
"Warning. Oxygen levels dangerously low," it droned in its excruciatingly pleasant voice, "Immediate evacuation is advised."
"Yeah. Much good that'll do me now, with no oxygen in my escape pod," Max grumbled, as he glanced at his scanners.
There was no sign of the navy fleet.
As if in a dream state he switched on power to his systems and plotted a course for Buffalo.
"Well, I guess they're not all bad," were his last thoughts before he engaged the autopilot and passed out.
...end.of.flight.recorder.data...
...encryption.in.progress...hack.terminated...
Max Zorin - Pharmaceutically enhanced engineering of automated combat routines for shipboard computer systems.
Strength: Programming microchips to dodge big rocks. Weakness: Dodging big rocks.
1. ALL inquiries about Lane Hacker procedures should now be directed to Director Le Chiffre first. I will only be handling matters and questions that he has forwarded to me.
3. Please note this comm channel for important developments regarding your rank insignia.
4. Max Zorin and Aris Kristatos are hereby promoted to Technician and should be assisted in upgrading their Daggers. Both qualify for the Mk VIII Armor upgrade courtesy of the clan.
5. All Technicians are directed to complete the following mission as their assignment for achieving Specialist rank until further notice : Recent reports have brought to my attention mysterious and troubling developments occurring in the Omega systems relating to the Nomads. All Technicians are to investigate the use of ANY Nomad technology by vessels travelling through Liberty space. Provide scans and a report in this channel documenting your findings. All other Lane Hackers are also instructed to report the use of Nomad technology in Liberty space.
...encryption.in.progress...hack.terminated...
Currently in development of :
Nefarious Plots, Shrewd Schemes, Infamous Cabals, Canny Conspiracies, Devious Ruses, Machiavellian Machinations, Insidious Subterfuges, & Wily Stratagems
Hello my friend it has been some time since i last made a transmission
The funds of your recent kill on the SA's pilot have been transferred to our personal trade ship im sure you know which im speaking of. it is a pleasure doing business with you my friend once again.
ah, alrighty then. Time to upgrade my dagger here to something more efficient... Scimitar or Slipstream I believe... I'll have to see which one I like more. Anywho, I got back from visiting my sister at her University a while ago, nice campus in Cambridge, security is high though, the whole war thing between Kusari and Bretonia even has campus security on high alert, well what can you say? Them Bretonians need some respect. I got my parents to sign me up to boarding school. I'm just going to hack the system and make it all believable, you know. Grades, attendance... even though I've never been to the place, but that doesn't matter. Libertonians don't seem to care much from security, and all these humongous ships don't catch the little fish floating around, much less a hack. But don't worry, I'll learn what I can from you guys, I still think education is important, I mean hey, I'm 17, kid needs to learn, right? And uuuh, yeah, thanks a bunch for the promotion, I'll do the best I can to keep up my expectances. Max and Chiffre too, well deserved fellas.
As far as the Nomad weaponry goes Sr. Director, I'm not sure if it was in my dreams or in reality, but I could swear I've seen them on a passing ship before... I'll have to keep a closer eye out now.
Well that's it for now, I'm back to duty.
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