Entry#: 061
Date: 15 - 01 - 818 AS @ 08:24 SUT
Title: Untitled.
Well it's been almost a week since my last entry, so I suppose I should write an update. The Rogues that I had contacted about those turrets seem to have forgotten about me. I haven't heard back since I sent off that request.
No matter. I'll just go down to Dublin myself and poke around the Mollies a bit.
The Mollies are actually not that dissimilar to the Xenos in how they came about - being down-trodden by the resident corporations before finally cracking and going radical. But it must be said their ideals are certainly far more romantic than their Libertarian counterparts.
I've had some cordial dealings with them before, so hopefully someone will recognise me and let me get my foot in the door. I'm sure they will appreciate a Scylla showing up out of the blue. If everything goes my way I might be able to help them get rid of some of those Corsairs who have invaded my Homeland.
I keep tolerating all these pirates and terrorists as a professional courtesy, but honestly it is rather satisfying to make the odd Corsair or Outcast... go away... whenever one finds themselves alone with me. I don't like Cardamine, I don't like Slave traders and I don't like genocidal pirates. In general I don't like anyone descended from the Hispania. Such a pity they have to be so achingly beautiful.
Even someone living in the underbelly of their Homeland still has some pride in it. I'm proud of my heritage and it makes me sick to think of what the Corsairs are doing there. If they were just smuggling in their Artifacts and disappearing with Junker-bought supplies it wouldn't be a problem. But nuking all and sundry without any concern for the lives they are destroying simply makes my blood boil.
I'm guilty of knocking off a few transports in my time, I can admit that. But in all the times I've done it I've never had to kill any civilians. I prefer to target corporate transports, because nine times out of ten the crew don't give a rat's arse about the cargo and just want to get away with their lives intact. That way, everyone wins - except the company. But no-body cares about their well-being, mainly due to the fact they have no care for their own employees' - which is the very reason the Mollies exist.
The Mollies have a much more romantic agenda - Gaining sovereignty of the Dublin System. Killing civilians isn't on their priority list - not to say they are completely innocent of that of course, but they are still much more agreeable than, say, Corsairs.
I'm going to be floating down to Dublin and cleaning house a bit. This should be interesting. Hell, I might even run into mum again. Last I heard she's still hanging around Bretonia in that clapped-out hulk of a Clydesdale.
The Maelstrom is prepped and ready to launch on what will be her longest flight since her resurrection - To Arranmore. Alsatia will be flown by Misaka with the White Devil and the Bomber escorting us.
Entry#: 062
Date: 18 - 01 - 818 AS @ 08:43 SUT
Title: Well...
You wouldn't think moving a ship as big as a Scylla class cruiser would be terribly easy.
But, I have yet to run into any opposition what so ever on our round-a-bout trip to Bretonia. The odd fly-by Rogue or other miscellaneous pirate who were merely hunting for potential easy prey and that's it. No issues from the lawmakers or anyone else for that matter.
Just the way I like it.
After leaving the moon where she had been hiding, we omitted the stop over in Puerto Rico and instead headed directly for Dublin. From Humboldt we flew to Kansas, a desolate system that is only technically under Liberty control. Using the considerable bank of information stored in the Alsatia's navigational computers we located and made use of the jumphole to the Magellan system.
From Magellan we flew through the Barrier nebula to the next jumphole in the journey, which dumped us in the middle of one of the many fields of toxic waste and other debris left over from the Industrial era of Leeds' development. Using the cover the poisonous cloud created we hopped cross the Leeds system and found the last of the jumpholes for our journey, linking Leeds to Dublin, located within another of the waste fields.
The long days had of course taken their toll on my crew - flying up to 18 hours at a time with sleep the only reprieve knocks you around a bit. Kana and Fumika were in the middle of a heated lovers' spat when we reached the edge of the Molly Asteroid field. I ordered the escorts recalled into the Alsatia, and with abated breath the two heavier ships entered the mine-infested gauntlet that harbours the Mollies.
Using information I had been previewed to a long time ago, I located the only mine-free passage into the heart of the field. The route was in some places only a few hundred meters wide, and although I tried my best to avoid it, I did manage to trigger one mine.
If Misaka had been close to sleep before, she most certainly wasn't after that blast; and probably in need of new underwear as well. I sure was. The mine shook the Maelstrom up a bit, but the shield generator I had installed did it's job wonderfully and the Maelstrom's integrity was uncompromised.
Misaka, right on queue, hailed me down and asked me if I was alright. A few bruises and scratches from being thrown around the bridge by the blast were all the physical harm I bore. Most of the damage was to my pride.
After that excitement was over, the rest of the gauntlet was passed without major issue. As expected I was hailed, rather haughtily, by Arranmore's tower and although although it took some explaining and quick thinking I was able to avoid being terminated. The Rogues I had originally contacted regarding these weapons I was hunting down had, luckily, let the leaders of the Mollies know I was coming.
I am now back at the helm of Alsatia, parked along side the Maelstrom inside the clear-zone around the station and preparing to retire for a well-earned rest. The job of earning my keep at this base starts tomorrow.
Entry#: 063
Date: 20 - 01 - 818 AS @ 12:17 SUT
Title: Untitled
Well, I have my turrets, at least. I had to work for them though, and there's the blood of a dozen or so Corsair pilots on my hands to boot.
As a part of the deal to get the turrets I had to attend to a little problem along with a handful of Mollies. Reports stated a Corsair Imperator gunboat had been floating around Dublin for a few days, stirring up trouble for both the Mollies and the Armed Forces. And since the BAF is completely clawless around these parts it was up to us to make it go away.
Myself, Misaka and Kana remained on board the Alsatia whilst Fumika piloted my bomber. Us two, combined with another Molly bomber and 5 fighters set out from Arranmore to give the offending gunboat a warm welcome to Molly territory.
Tracking it down wasn't all that difficult, the Mollies have eyes and ears all over their gold fields. We found the gunboat along with two fighter escorts hiding inside an asteroid cluster.
We wasted no time in dealing out some pain. I dropped out of cruise and promptly opened fire on the gunboat. He had of course seen us coming but he didn't really have that much time to react. The Molly fighter wing was dealing with the Corsair fighters leaving their bomber, my own and myself to get rid of the big fellow.
Never underestimate the power of a transport with an angry little girl controlling it. It might not have the shielding or the agility of a combat craft, but eight forward firing guns can rip through just about anything dumb enough to get in the way. The Corsairs were no different. The poor bastards had two bombers and a transport firing full bore at them. The shields were taking a beating from my own and the bombers' EMP cannons and were dusted in a matter of seconds.
Then the torpedoes came in. One from Fumika, one from the Molly.
Pop! Game over. The ship exploded and disintegrated into a million pieces, leaving only the Titan fighters remaining, who weren't fairing much better either. They had much greater firepower, but it was a five versus two fight and the Mollies are well known for sneaky, under-handed fighting techniques. One of the two got a pleasant surprise in the form of a Firestalker jammed right up his clacker, and that was the end of him. Then it devolved into little more than playing with ones food, the Mollies taking little nips out of the sole remaining ship, who was now floundering around without any of the combat grace Corsairs are known for. He went down in much the same manner as his comrades.
With everything taken care of we returned to Arranmore where my goods were waiting for me. After quickly getting everything loaded we hit the autopilot and begun the flight back to Liberty. At least, that was the original plan. I felt a bit homesick, so now we're taking a detour and paying Trafalgar a visit.
Entry#: 064
Date: 25 - 01 - 818 AS @ 08:56 SUT
Title: IT HAPPENED AGAIN
Well, it's been a few days since I last put something in here. Had a rather interesting encounter with a Liberty Gunboat of all things in the Magellan system on the way back to Vieques.
I was piloting the Maelstrom all by myself; Alsatia, the bomber and the White Devil all in convoy. We were cruising across the expanse of space across the edge of the Barrier Nebula when something popped up on the radar right in front of us - a Navy gunboat - unescorted, well and truly outside of their zone of operation.
"The hell is that doing out here"? I thought to myself. We closed in on the ship in a matter of seconds. It passed us on the right side, did an abrupt U-turn and came up behind us. At that point it dropped out of cruise speed and fired a disruptor at the arse end of my cruiser.
Really bad idea.
The ship's engines shuddered to a halt as the EMP wave swept over them. I quickly ordered the others to stop and give me cover.
The gunboat's commander asked me rather haughtily: "What the bloody hell do you think 'yer doin' in that thing headin' for Liberty?"
As I sat there in silence the gunboat positioned itself right in front of me. He thought he was blocking my path. In reality he was putting himself directly in front of an artillery gun and four EMP-pulse cannons.
Really bad idea. (Where do they get the crew of these ships? The special-ed class?)
By this time I had relocated from the flight console to gunnery command.
I trained all four EMP pulse cannons on the stationary gunboat. A quick transmission to the other ships secured an additional 8 pulse cannons of varying strengths. Then I replied to the commanders' query.
"What I am doing out here?..... YOU BETTER THINK REAL FAST MATE! OPEN FIRE GIRLS! YEEEHAAAW!!"
The Maelstrom's new weapons systems were put to their first real use along side the tried-and-tested guns of the other ships. The first volley decimated the Navy's shielding almost in an instant; and before he could even gain his bearings the second fried all his electronics.
These gunboats, of course, have mechanisms to protect against EMP disruptions. But they were utterly and totally overwhelmed by the combined power of the Maelstrom, Alsatia and Eva's Vengeance. In just a few seconds the gunboat had been rendered useless.
The crew were all still alive, so there was no blood on my hands. We skedaddled for the Kansas jumphole and left the commander and his crew to their own devices. They would no doubt be recovered by the people who sent them out there.
The rest of the voyage was uneventful. My harrowing story of unmitigated humiliation on the part of the Liberty Navy became the center of attention on Vieques that night.
The moral of the story? Don't pick a fight with a destroyer, an armoured transport, a bomber and a fighter in a gunboat. It's a really bad idea.
Entry#: 065
Date: 29 - 01 - 818 AS @ 08:34 SUT
Title: Untitled.
Seems I just can't look past a good deal on something. Must be the Junker blood running through my veins.
I am now the not-so-proud owner of a Salvage Frigate. An oversized recycling depot with claws and cranes spattered randomly across it.
It previously belonged to a "deceased estate", meaning someone didn't pay their loan back on time. I found it sitting idle in the docks at Vieques looking for a new owner.
The old girl cost me the princely sum of 80 million credits. For that I get a "transport" the length of a Liberty siege cruiser, the firepower of a small child, and an array of utility cranes, sorters and lifters.
There's still big money to be made in recycling. Especially around Liberty which is now so sorely lacking in raw materials, the few remaining low-tech industries dotted around will pay top dollar for anything they can make into something else. Then there's the pirates who have become so advanced they find themselves in the same position as any legitimate corporation in Liberty; possessing the skills and means to produce something; but lacking the resources.
I think I could make a go of this. The ship is purpose-built for the job; and if I could make a profit out of a standard ship with a tow chain welded to the back of it, this frigate should rake in the credits easily. Scrap collection has it's own merits beside that - the fact I don't have to fly halfway across the universe to make money. Just a short hop to any of the smelters in Liberty secures me a respectable income.
coredrive:\stored data\guncam\images\100_334.jpg
Thanks to Misaka for the delightful photograph of what is without a doubt the ugliest pile of bolts I've ever come across.
The Maelstrom and Alsatia are safely tucked into bed at Vieques shipyards for a little rest and repair-ation, I'm taking this Salvager out and giving it a little test run in Texas. I'm carrying the White Devil in the hangar just in case. I don't quite trust the ship yet.
Entry#: 066
Date: 31 - 01 - 818 AS @ 17:33 SUT
Title: Untitled.
The claws on the front of this Salvager are a little bit too much fun to play with.
It all started in the debris fields of the Texas Incident. I was nonchalantly tearing things apart and rather thoroughly enjoying myself when I just happened upon something that was combustible.
I guess it was a tank of H-Fuel or some such, because when I tore into it the thing detonated and created a decent sized explosion - Not enough to put the ship's core in danger - but enough to warrant new panties and wrench off the claw which had been the catalyst for the whole thing.
Just blumin' great. I've had the thing what, two days?, and I've already broken it.
At least I got a decent amount of metal into the hangar before all this occured. I suppose a trip back to Vieques is in order. The boys'll probably have a good laugh at my expense - it's been noted that my wonderful self and damage to ships seem to be stalking each other.
Speaking of stalking, I swear I'm being followed by someone. I noted a Zoner research ship floating around the place when I was out near the dark matter clouds - one of those Spatial things. I had assumed it was studying the cloud and its composition but I realised I'd seen it before.
In fact I've seen this particular ship numerous times recently; popping up seemingly by coincidence wherever and whenever I feel like doing something a bit dodgy. It was in Galileo the last time I was with my Rogue pals molesting Kusari Steel transports, it was in Manhattan orbit when I brought in some of those "decorative paperweights" the Corsairs lovingly craft and besides that I've just seen it more often than coincidence would dictate.
Next time it pops up I'm gonna have a few words with the crew. Who knows, they might just be in love.
I also found a nice surprise when I woke up this morning and opened my neural net uplink. Kendrick and his boys are still going at it raking in the credits. I honestly wonder how long that's going to go on for. I bought the flamin' thing off a fleet disposal merchant as a statutory writeoff - or it was meant to be.
Someone somewhere didn't lodge the final papers and I've basically got a MOT tested, taxed and registered ship for the cost of a wreck. You just can't help but love the Bretonian bureaucracy - so woefully inefficient it allows a pirate to operate a Bretonian super transport under Gateway papers and tags which are being paid for in full by that automatic invoicing system they use. Bloody wonderful!
Entry#: 067
Date: 03 - 02 - 818 AS @ 08:38 SUT
Title: Untitled.
Well, I have the name of the Zoner who's been following me around - Tomoe Kashiwaba. She insists it's coincidence that she keeps popping up everywhere; that she's doing research on the Pequena Negra and dark matter in general. But she's not a very good liar. There have been too many unusual incidents lately for her to be an inert element in this whole event.
The Navy, for example, seem to magically have become aware of my recent undertakings in Galileo, gently molesting Kusari transports and selling the cargo back to Liberty. It was me, a Rogue and this Zoner there and no-one could possibly know I was involved beyond us, as I sat in the dark matter clouds until the dust had settled to collect our prizes.
I've noted that she accidentally dropped my last name once; and that set off alarm bells everywhere. She shouldn't know that. She's up to something and I know it.
Tomoe has asked to come aboard more than once - I keep rejecting her but she keeps on trying. Why would she want to come on board this Salvager? I am completely certain her Spatial is much better equipped than this ship; which is overloaded already anyway.
She has been previewed to information about the Liberty underbelly that a young, female, Kusari-descended Zoner simply should not have access to.
The universe-wide grapevine a Junker has the ability to harvest from has also told me that this particular Zoner girl is on a very exclusive list - that of the Freeport 18 bounty board. For two hundred million credits.
I wonder why.
I also wonder if someone has claimed it already - because she hasn't been seen since the first of the month.
Entry#: 068
Date: 06 - 02 - 818 AS @ 17:00 SUT
Title: Untitled.
Right, now that I've finally managed to get my sleep cycle back into something reasonable I am now able to jot things down at the "appropriate" time.
The last couple days have been rather unexciting, actually. We go to Texas in the Salvager, collect some steel and haul it back to Culebra Smelters where I'm given a reasonable, if not spectacular invoice in exchange. Rinse and repeat two or three times a day.
The Alsatia has been undergoing a refit of some of her armour plating, which has taken quite a beating in the time I've had her. My cruiser has had nearly all of her critical components installed and is more-or-less self sufficient in space. Only a few finishing touches and she's ready to hand out punishment to all whom oppose me. Which isn't a great number of targets, to be honest. I seem to have been partially successful in my time within the Xenos, the number of raiders openly attacking us has dropped off greatly in the last couple months. I guess they found something more important to do; or they're all dead.
As for the rest of my property. Misaka has become the image of a perfect wife - she's been learning how to cook real food in space - no easy task thanks to the general lack of actual gravity. I'm starting to think I'd like to spend the rest of my life with her - even after just six months.
Kana and Fumika are, barring the odd lovers' spat - getting along wonderfully. They enjoy each others company as much as I enjoy having two sets of cheap labour. Mr. Perque is still running around the place with his wife and son in tow, getting himself rich and sending me a franchiser's fee every few weeks.
The problem, however, is Sakura. It seems no matter what I do to set her return in motion, something pops up and ends it. I've confirmed that she does in fact have relatives to return to - her grandparents - whom from what I can decipher seem to be excellent people. The useless Junkers I contacted about getting a low-profile ticket into Kusari haven't said boo to me in a very long time. I can't contact the Golden Chrysanthemums because knowing them they will attempt to convert her into one of her own. Whether Sakura chooses such a path as an adult is none of my business but I will not allow them to sully an innocent mind.
Once I get the cash together I'm going out and buying my own way into Kusari's core. To hell with the Junker Congress, they are the most inept compilation of drongos, dolts and dumb-****s I've ever met. I sort of knew that a long time ago but I thought I'd give them a chance to prove themselves trustworthy after the Railgun incident. They've completely failed in that respect so it looks like they can find someone else to fight their war in Sigma-13.
Misaka is watching my typing this particular log entry behind my back in nothing but a pair of white lace panties and a sheer night gown whose sole purpose is defeated by the lack of gravity on board the Salvager. So I have my entertainment for the immediate future sorted.
Entry#: 069
Date: 12 - 02 - 818 AS @ 15:44 SUT
Title: One helluva week.
So there I was back at what has been my home for the last couple weeks, Vieques Shipyards. I had just finished delivering a shipload of recycled steel plating to the Rogues at Buffalo Base when I received word from the boys at the docks that they had completed outfitting my destroyer with the guns I had procured from Bretonia.
Standing beside the Maelstrom that day left me awestruck. This ship was a ghost when I first found it and looking at her now filled me with the greatest sense of pride I've ever felt. This old wreck - a zombie brought back from the dead, a Frankenstein's Monster of parts and panels - was now complete and ready to make herself known as the very pointy end of the McDowell Company Fleet.
I parked my as yet unnamed Salvager alongside the Alsatia and threw everyone into the Maelstrom along side some of the lads who worked on her.
We fired up the engines, gave everything a final once-over and departed the Vieques dry-dock. I was quite pleased with the way Maelstrom moves, in fact, quite capable of keeping up with the Alsatia - a ship half her size.
I was nonchalantly puttering around the northern scrap fields of Texas when I received a rather intriguing transmission over the radio - an unencrypted message broadcast from the civilian communications array in orbit over Planet Houston.
The message stated that Rheinland had launched an attack on New York. It went so far as to describe the location of the incident and warned all civilians to stay away. A Rheinland battleship had breached the outer patrols, sneakily wedged itself into the heart of Liberty and was now tearing things apart near Norfolk Shipyard.
Using the benefit of hindsight someone must have been looking out for me. I had a cruiser, I had guns, I had the people and the personal immortality that accompanies teenagers, but what I didn't have was the skills or knowledge required of the commander of a capital ship.
With mixed responses ranging from "this is a bad idea", to "this is a terrible idea", I hit the cruise engines and made my way to New York. The flight only took approximately a half hour thanks to the convenience of the Houston to New York Gate tradelane.
Now, I'm not previewed to Navy operations but when I received that warning, I was expecting the place to be swarming with Liberty's finest heavy hitters, hopefully making a barbecue out of the Rheinlanders.
The place was swarming alright, but with navy fighters and even some damn police Patriots. Not the most appropriate set of pieces for a chess game with the opposing King three kilometres long.
They were keeping the battleship busy, taking little nibbles of the shielding and running outside the ship's firing arc as soon as they got its attention. I sat there for a moment and watched in amusement. Let it never be said Liberty flyboys are not dangerously stubborn when it comes to defending their homeland. A single shot from any of the guns on that flying brick would knock 'em off.
And that was exactly what was happening. Every lucky shot the gunner of the battleship got put an end to one of the swarm.
I counted a good forty ships on the Liberty side, and only one remaining on the Rheinland side, the comms chatter I picked up referring to it as the "Tirpitz".
I decided enough was enough; that I would be putting an end to this mess. I ordered Misaka, ad-hoc gunnery control officer, to train the targeting system on the battleship and start offloading the EMP pulse cannons.
The fighter swarm I flew into quickly became aware of my actions and begun working with me, despite not exchanging a single word. I, with Misaka's fine gun control, managed to take out the shield generator and a variety of other core systems by bombarding the hull with electro-magnetic pulse cannon fire. The Rheinland vessel did attempt to fire back, but I was well outside the effective range of the weaponry it possessed. That, combined with the small frontal profile the Scylla class presents to a foe, ensured that, although I did get shaken up by the occasional hit, I was able to avoid any catastrophic damage.
The battleship had its teeth pulled out one by one. With every barrage dished out it became weaker and weaker, core systems falling to the insidious nature of the EMP cannon. Her fate was sealed when I ordered Misaka to switch from the EMP to the mortar. The second the energy banks had recovered sufficient power I ordered it fired.
The bridge went dark as Maelstrom's generators were overloaded. The only light present was the brilliant blue of the ball of energy now bound for the stationary target sitting directly in front of me. Those were the most exhilarating two seconds of my life.
The Tirpitz begun to crack apart, she had reached her end. I ordered Misaka to cease fire and we simply stood back and watched the ship rip itself apart. The green haze emitted by the engines under normal conditions was evidence the rectors were still functioning - and pushing the rest of the hull forward into itself.
I know very well what would happen if Rheinland ever gained control of Liberty. The civil freedoms that I and the entire house take for granted would die in an instant - replaced with a vicious dictatorship with absolutely no respect for the sanctity of human life.
I have killed before. But never on such a scale. I play tough on the outside, but on the inside I'm still the little girl my mother gave away 5 years ago. I cried myself to sleep the day I first killed someone. You think you gain a tough skin after doing such a thing. And you might be able to convince others of that.
Nevertheless, as I bore witness to the deaths of hundreds, possibly thousands of men and women of the Rheinland nation, my blood ran cold. There was nothing I could do now. Indeed, Liberty's people were safe - I saved the lives of all the men and women in space around me and potentially an uncountable number of other lives - but at such a high cost.
With the threat cancelled I left the scene and returned to Puerto Rico. Although I had been the hero this day, I knew Liberty too well to expect to receive any credit for my actions.
I didn't realise this until Misaka told me much later, but I had been crying after the battle wound down.
Entry#: 070
Date: 15 - 02 - 818 AS @ 20:50 SUT
Title: From Rheinland with love.
I do have a penchant for creating trouble, it seems. Evidence to support that notion is the fact I'm in the bar of Alster Shipyard, Hamburg System, Rheinland Space.
I crashed at Rochester yesterday to get myself back in order after that incident with the battleship. My day got interesting on the tradelane linking Planet Houston to the Hudson jumphole. I was on my way back to Vieques Shipyards with the Maelstrom.
What I found after dropping out of the lane was two Rheinland fighters and a Liberty gunboat seemingly engaged in a (relatively) civil conversation. And I cannot deny being a terrible eavesdropper. So me being me, I hung around and listened in.
The first thing that struck me was the educated manner in which the Rheinlanders spoke. Certainly far removed from the inbred dribble one gets used to hearing as a resident of Liberty. One of them, Katrina, seemed especially agreeable. I have to say I give her accent a 11/10 for being utterly huggable. If an accent can actually be hugged. The guy she was with wasn't too bad either.
I announce my presence and we end up engaged in a cordial conversation, with the LNS Hunter gunboat sitting there with a very confused commander. I learnt that Katrina is the leader of an elite fighter pilots hand picked by.... someone.... for.... something....
Hmm.
The usual political propaganda that two enemies exchange alongside the occasional racial slur became history as the four of us shared idle conversation. Just wonderful.
I soon discovered that Katrina was having problems with her ship. From what she was telling me her command console kept on cutting out, as if it wasn't getting any power. Since this woman was such a pleasant person to talk to I offered her my services as a mechanic. I told her that if she took her ship to Beaumont I'd have a go at fixing it.
As I've always said, I have nothing against the people of Rheinland as just people. They are the same as anyone else underneath, they bleed just like I do. My objection in this case lies with the "government" itself.
I was now technically committing high treason for aiding and abetting Rheinland insurgents.
Bite my shiny metal ass. She's a nice girl and the guy in tow isn't impolite either.
We were just about to make our own way to Beaumont to repair Katrina's ship when a damn battlecruiser showed up.That was when things started getting stupid.
Of course the first thing the commander does is jump on his milk crate and denounce the Rheinlanders' presence, along with my own. No idea why. All I was doing was being a fly-on-the-wall to a Rheinland invasion, albeit a hopelessly small one.
Without any delay nor any time to think, the commander of the battlecruiser issues an order to open fire on me, but not the Rheinlanders, as, using his own words, he lacked the authority.
What?
Now without any real choice, the Rheinland agents and myself promptly legged it and made our way to Beaumont Base in the North Dallas Debris Field.
We got maybe half way before Katrina's ship **** itself in open space. The command console shut down and the ship could no longer be flown, the fail-safe system bringing the ship to an "approximate" halt, leaving it drifting slowly, but noticeably, in space.
I had my suspicions on what the cause might be. With Katrina in contact through the emergency power supply I told her the highly-skilled, expert method of fixing intermittent electrical faults with a ship.
Boot the living hell out of whatever isn't working.
And what do you know? The ship fired back up almost instantly after the first blow.
And it held together until Beaumont. I got her clearance to dock with the station. A paying customer is a paying customer in the eyes of a Junker, no matter whence they came, after all.
I disembark through the gangway and set foot on Beaumont for the first time in.... several months. I head directly to the dock where Katrina had set down. An unexpectedly formal "official introduction" later and I had my head deep inside the naughty bits of one of the Rheinland Military's finest pieces of kit.
I asked Katrina a few basic diagnostic questions, and through those I decided the problem lay with either the alternator or the conduit linking it to the battery.
With the electrics isolated I delved in to the very bowls of the ship, quickly locating the fault.
What I saw made my blood run cold.
Whoever had serviced the ship last installed a new generator, but they hadn't tensioned the bolts holding the conduit to it.
What this meant was the spark generated was arcing across the single bolt still intact, creating a situation so hideously dangerous I was simply in shock. I attempted to worm my way around the portal I was in and succeeded in nought but taking the skin off both knuckles. I commissioned Katrina to retrieve the correct bolts for the conduit, a set of four M10x120 high tensile.
Katrina should have been dead. The fuel lines were literally centimetres away and covered by a thin insulation that would have done nothing to protect against the sort of voltages a fusion engine creates. And that insulation did in fact have burn marks on it where an arc had hit.
So we had the problem mostly fixed. Parts of the weapons system were munted beyond what could be repaired using basic tools. I had offered the Rheinlanders a place to stay under the radar until they could make the trip home, so long as they didn't cause any trouble.
Trouble, however, ended up coming right to us. A squad of Liberty Gunboats came barrelling through the debris field making a clear heading directly for us. Somehow they'd figured out we were here.
I didn't have much choice when it came to running with the Rheinies back to Hamburg, high treason carries an instant death penalty in the fine "justice system" of the Liberty police state. With the lives of Misaka, Kana, Fumika, Sakura and a selection of the finest men the Junker variety-bucket has to offer in my own hands I, alongside Katrina and Alex, the gentleman chaperone, booted for the Hudson System across the massive expanse of the Texas wastelands; the remains of the Dallas Incident.
Thanks in no small part to my loving care, Katrina's ship was much happier. The core components were built tough enough that a few thousand volts wouldn't hurt them at all. Her weaponry and some auxiliary systems had seen better days but the ship would get her home. At least, I hoped.
We made our way across the open expanses of space, with the funboat patrol not five kilometres behind us. They were starting to gain on the bulky cruiser, I was holding up the rest of the convoy.
As the enemy ships got dangerously close, Katrina broke out of formation and turned around. As she did so she ordered me and Alex to keep flying for the jumphole.
I watched her fly behind us and smack the gunboats in the face with cruise disruptors.
Her plan got two of the three that were following us. But at the cost of becoming caught in their midst. She commanded Alex and me to keep flying, to reach the protection of Battleship Westfalen in the Hamburg system.
At some point through the stint across Hudson I got separated from Alex, I don't quite remember how. All I do remember from that point on is getting dangerously close to the LNS Aegis Fate as it showed up unannounced near Planet Atka, inconveniently as the exact time I was attempting to slink past unnoticed.
I however, did manage to avoid getting caught. I hit up the tradelane with seconds to spare before the cruiser was in range. I got spat out at the jumpgate to Hamburg, the limit of where Liberty's ships dare go without a death wish. A few seconds later I was within Rheinland's borders, greeted by Battleship Westfalen.
Somewhere along the line Alex had caught up with me; he was only seconds behind. He explained the situation to the Westfalen, who had not been too appreciative of a destroyer showing up at their front door without an invite.
Katrina, however was nowhere in sight. I sat there for a nervous two or three minutes before Alex cracked and jumped in the tradelane to go find her. I got about three feet away from the lane myself when she went me a radio transmission. She said she had managed to ditch the Liberty boats and was on her way.
Breathing a sigh of relief I returned to the Westfalen and waited. Indeed, a few minutes later Alex and Katrina were safe and sound.
What happened next was, to be honest, rather unexpected.
The last Liberty fleet to enter Rheinland was mercilessly slaughtered and never even reached the moon which contains the Westfalen, in orbit.
Today was a bit different as some time later a Siege cruiser, seemingly unescorted, popped out the end of the lane. Literally, right on top of Westfalen.
He didn't fare to well, it must be said. The flying space-sausage lasted about two minutes, the Westfalen's crew displaying blood-lust the likes of which I had never seen outside a Xeno.
The cruiser did, however, manage to escape alive, if not too happy. It ran outside the firing range of Westfalen, but before the battleship could make a move I closed in and unleashed my own brand of justice.
As I did so, I noticed something. Since I had been so fixated on this siege cruiser I hadn't paid any attention to my radar, and when I did I found the gunboat squad plus an extra bomber and the battlecruiser who'd broken up my earlier party.
So whilst I and the Rheinlanders tore apart what was left of the siege cruiser the gunboats and battlecruiser got stuck into the rest of the Rheinland Military present, one of their own cruisers and two gunboats.
My own special blend of blood lust took over and I made a real mess of the LNS Tyrant. In the face of an incoming barrage of razor-fire I just kept unloading everything the Maelstrom had to give, the bridge plunging into darkness by the power overload, only broken by the bright lasers flying past.
Once the LNS Tyrant bit the dust we retreated back to the Westfalen, now preparing herself for all-out combat.
What was left of the Liberty fleet retreated itself, leaving us to ourselves.
Cutting the inconsequential chatter out, I was allowed access to Alster Shipyards to repair the damage.
For now, I have a safe haven in Hamburg. Katrina and Alex have seen to it that I am treated as a guest of Rheinland. I guess it only makes sense, I did kind of save both their lives, after all.
Hell, I need a damn break. This is too much **** for me to deal with.