//Okay, so Komachi has been a character of mine for a good while now - probably around September/October of last year. Unfortunately, she hasn't had a forum presence at all, but that is - as you can see - currently in the process of changing. This is the thread where - assuming everything goes to plan and I don't get bored - any significant developments in her character and things that happen to her will end up being documented. I would make a feedback thread, but that's actually impossible as of the time of writing. If you have anything you absolutely desperately have to leave feedback on, just PM me. Thanks!
A Little Slice of Paradise
Pictured above: the Slice of Paradise, an armed and armored TTR-1130 Series Pilgrim Liner operated and "owned" by a certain Golden Chrysanthemum, Komachi Kurosawa. It serves as the 'flagship' of sorts for her ramshackle, one-woman fleet of snubcraft and freighters.
Komachi Kurosawa
An Ainu-born idealist-turned-profiteer, Komachi Kurosawa was one of the many sisters to part ways with the hardliners among the movement after Kusari's change in government. Never really a believer in the cause, the fractures that rocked the movement post-reform were the catalyst for her partial breakaway. Packing her scant belongings into her Blossom, she waved goodbye to the main line of the Sisterhood's cause, setting out from the relatively tranquil skies of Hokkaido to a more rich hunting ground - the asteroid fields of nearby Tau-23.
Arriving on Cali the day after, Komachi cut an unimposing figure among the asteroid base's regular comers and goers. Her Sisterhood-related credentials - coupled with her trademark upbeat personality and a few favours on the side - were enough to secure her long-term accomodation, as well as a parking space for her fighter. Following this, the young Chrysanthemum became a regular fixture both on the base and in the mining fields beyond its rocky walls, ripping off miners and evading the Guild paramilitary in equal measure. Occasional forays into Kyushu and Kusari proper also met with success - and, during a daring heist involving two trains and approximately ten thousand tons of freshly-mined gold ore, even led to her meeting a local band of Junkers, a then-ragtag band of hooligans calling themselves the Junker Marauders.
That chance meeting in Kyushu orbit sparked a sequence of regular co-operation between Komachi and the Marauders, which continues to this very day. Now equipped with the contacts to move large volumes of 'stolen' cargo from miners too stupid or too stubborn to provide her with electronic funds, Komachi's profit margins soared through the roof, and it wasn't long before her collection of ships expanded to match, with two Orchids and a Sabre being delivered to the nearby Freeport Ten for her use.
This status quo continued for a further four months, before - inevitably - Komachi grew bored with the meager quarters she was afforded on board Cali, as well as the amount of shuttling back and forth she was required to deal with in order to access her flotilla moored at the Freeport. As such, she called in a few outstanding favours of her own with the Marauders, acquiring a modified Pilgrim liner and suitable crew on a long-term lease in short order.
Now freed from the confines - spatial and otherwise - of operating out of Cali Base, nineteen-year-old Komachi has mobilised her Liner - christened the Slice of Paradise - and expanded her range of operations to Kusari proper, although her primary focus on the rich fields of Tau-23 is unlikely to go away any time soon. While she is far from being the most intelligent girl around, Komachi's unquashable ambition and determination mean she is still a credible threat to shipping in House Kusari and the neighbouring Border Worlds, having recently been spotted operating as far afield as Kepler and the Sigmas.
Turns out the Marauders do know a thing or two about 'hotspots'! Sigma-13's quite a corridor for five-thousand-ton floating moneybags, it seems. Forty million credits (and a freshly-mined diamond!) isn't bad at all for a scant hour's work, and with the Paradise nestled deep within the nebula, there's pretty much zero risk of being found out.
Bumped into a few interesting folk, chief of which was an 'old friend' of sorts. Kessler, I think the name is. This is the fourth or fifth time he's ran into yours truly, and I couldn't help feeling a little bad for him. With that in mind, I thought I'd do something to spice things up a little.
The regret was immediate and overwhelming, but I have to keep a reputation of integrity, right? At least, that's what I told myself as a lost five million credits went sailing down the lane.
Oh, and there was this Correo knocking about, too. Just cruised up on me without a care in the world, parking himself square in front of three energy cannons, a rapid-fire rocket launcher, and enough antimatter to blow his freighter to bits a hundred times over. Ballsy. In fact, I admired him so much that I decided to let him stay.
He ended up leaving me a diamond - snatched from a Republican convoy right under my nose, too - and his best wishes, but nothing else to follow up on bar a suave demeanour, a handsome-sounding voice and a quick glimpse of something that looked a bit like a cape, but which may have been a rag waved in front of the camera for all I know. Mysterious! Still debating whether to send a comm.
This is also a reminder to myself to take more guncam shots - or to set the damn thing on auto - because this log coulda been a lot longer otherwise. Start as you mean to go on, right?
Oh well. Anything to get the ball rolling on all this documentation. I need some actual proof of my exploits to impress people with, because, frankly, I'm getting tired of the skeptics. We'll see who's laughing once I have a whole encyclopaedia of daring deeds to read through!
Entry two of my eventual novel. Bestseller material right here.
Got a call from an old friend today in my newfound haunt of Sigma-13. Looks like I'm not the only Tau fixture to have drifted off-course. I think I have another fan.
I'm not sure why he decided to pay me from - by his own admission - a whole system away, but I let him know I appreciated the money. Even if it is a little creepy that he saved my neural net address.
Anyway, I got a call from the Marauders again. An urgent cargo delivery. Low volume, high priority. Ivankov hinted that it was for Perseph, but I didn't pry any further, as per usual. Find goods, move goods, no questions asked; that's how Ivankov likes things done - and for the credits he was offering, I was only too happy to accept instantly. Had to call in a hell of a lot of favours to get the goods together on such short notice, but it was worth it.
It was a good trial run for the Forty Days Deluge, at least. It's impressive how fast these little freighters can go when you need them to. Pleasingly, it seems like the transponder-spoofing rig I had installed is working a treat, too. No more being auto-identified as a criminal on sight, at least for now, although it's a shame the field device is strictly integrated. I wish I could get something similar on all my ships, even if this one will only last for a few weeks at best.
Inverness is quite nice, actually. You'd think it'd be much harder on the eye, given that Junkers of all sorts populate the place, but it's actually really peaceful!
Anyway, after that little jaunt, it was straight back to the blue, blue clouds of Sigma Thirteen! Those money-filled, explosive clouds! Said clouds wasted no time in spitting out some more money just for me - as well as a little something extra.
I haven't had any weed in ages. That's one crate I'm gonna be cracking open ASAP back on the Paradise. It might even come in handy tomorrow, too, given the offer I got from an oh-so-charming KishiTech employee:
I guess this means the Deluge gets another outing. At the very least, it'll be a free meal! At most - well. Who knows? I hear high-value bulk cargo hauling is very profitable!
Number three! This thing's coming along rápidamente, as the Maltese say.
As any dread pirate knows, the life of a profiteer is a dangerous one, and you must never let your guard down! Being the successful and fearsome pilot that I am, I always hold true to this - and yesterday, it paid off!
In the middle of a quiet chat and negotiations with a Kishiro transport, a Spatial suddenly cleared the jumpgate, and opened up with all eight cannons, tearing my Orchid's shields apart in a split second!
Now, I know what you're thinking. How did I get out of that one alive?
As it turns out, it wasn't so hard. The case in point remains, though! Always stay vigilant!
After that little brush with death - or at the very least, my first ever lost Orchid - I decided to cut the Sigmas a little slack, and wandered over to the Taus for the evening. Happily, I bumped into a somewhat familiar face - Marcio, a familiar face from all the times I've spent getting involved in Tau-23's furballs. It was nice to see him again, even if only for a short while. Soon afterwards, Orsini showed up as well - the Orsini, the bigshot Lance guy - which made things a bit more interesting. He and I have a short but 'interesting' history!
Long story short, Marcio and I ended up running into a large group of Zoners - the Common Wells, or something (the ones who talk a lot) - and ended up following them around on their loopy-loo journey to Baffin. I'm not sure how a route involving Tau-29, Leeds, Tau-31, Tau-29 again and Baffin is an actual good route, but the Zoners seemed happy enough with it. In any case, since they were paying us on a per-system basis for the pleasure of our company, I wasn't complaining! Well, not much, anyway. Mostly out of confusion.
In any case, it turned out our fleet wasn't the only one bound for Baffin that day. A whole load of other faces showed up, including two weird-looking Zoner capital ships, a pack of Colonials, an Order ship, and a whole lot more that I've probably forgotten.
The uneasy peace lasted, oh - about half an hour? Maybe less? Incidentally, it was the Colonials who broke it twice in a row - first by shooting some poor defenceless Zoner, then - unbelievably - by shooting at me, of all people! Not Marcio or Luke, the two Maltese pilots and possibly the Colonials' biggest enemies - he shot at me, the Chrysanthemum!
It didn't end well for him. Marcio had my back!
With that, we decided that the whole meeting or whatever was a total, total shambles, and just headed off back to the Taus. Two assassination attempts in one day is two too many.
That's all for now. Coming next time: leafleting and a trip round Sirius!
Now, I'm not saying I did it alone, but I'm also not admitting that I had help. We'll leave it up in the air, right? Suffice to say the local Junkers had a field day with that wreck. Talk about premium scrap, right?
Also, then there was this:
I may or may not have had help with this kill, too. Again, we'll leave it up in the air, okay? I have a reputation to uphold.
Anyway. I swung by Ainu about a week back, and - long story short - the girls asked me to help out. Naturally, since I owe them a hell of a lot owing with my whole "getting started" thing, I agreed straight away. It turned out to be pretty light work, too. Leafleting, of all things.
So I gave a crate of pamphlets to a Libertonian transport:
-and one to the Hessians, would you believe it:
-and one to the Phoenix Zoners (this guy was polite!)
-and one to no-one in particular, waaay out in the Omicrons. Call it a time capsule - some day, someone's gonna find that thing, and be so excited about what's inside!
So, yeah. A lot of other "stuff" happened as well, but this isn't really the place for all that. Suffice to say that I've had a "falling out" with a particular acquaintance or two, and certain ties have had to be cut. It's a terrible shame, but the Lance were most understanding when I approached them about it. It looks like the persons in question won't be welcomed back into the Taus any time soon.
Not that I'm incapable of fighting my own battles.
I also might have taken a teeny little trip around some of Sirius' less populated parts, with another very certain individual. Now that was a barrel of fun! Again, though - not the place for that. We'll see where it leads.
Lastly, I heard the Lance was stepping up its terminations-for-money thingy again. That sounded cool, so I signed up, and hey hey - look what happened!
I can already tell that I'm gonna enjoy working closely with the Lance again. And by that I mean getting paid out the wazoo for doing stuff I already do. Easy!
Thought I was gone? Nah, I'm a while away from becoming a statistic and a black-box recording yet. I hope.
Instead, meet the newest member of the Kurosawa Fleet-In-Miniature - drumroll, please:
This is the Niboshi, or 'sardine' for everyone else. A bootleg little freighter that can barely lever itself out of orbit, but comes with a very super handy secret. Namely, whoever last flew this thing 'legit' either forgot or, well, wasn't able to wipe the transponder codes before selling it on in a legal manner. Uh-huh. Ta-da - suddenly yours truly has a ship that shows up white on radar instead of cherry-red and ready for blasting.
I know, I know. 'Nothing new', right? Yeah, I've owned a couple of these in the past, and each time they got their codes reset within weeks. Record has a habit of catching up with you, right?
Not this time, baby. I don't pretend to understand all the details, but someone's gone HAM on this thing with some kind of technowizardry. The transponder is locked into read-only mode - meaning that nobody's going to be changing that thing for at least a few milleniums - which means I have something that can go places other than Bretonia legally for the forseeable future. Amazing, right?
Well, sort of. As you can imagine - or so I hear, anyway - it's not easy to do this kind of thing, hence why I'm stuck with a ship that's about as space-worthy as those heaps of metal in the Texas scrap fields. Still, it's nice to know there's a certain security about it. At least partially.
There was just one problem. My amazing new purchase was half a sector away from the Sigmas - parked on Trafalgar, to be precise. You know, the one in New London.
That meant it was time for a trip, which meant taking the Nishigikoi down to pick up my newfound cargo. It's amazing what you can fit inside a gigantic triangular space, right?
A trip that was fairly uneventful, to be honest. I'm not sure whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Good in one way, but hey - excitement is the spice of life, right? Or something.
There was the teeniest-tiniest bit of trouble in Leeds, but someone was watching over me, because I got the most clueless bunch of Gauls imaginable. A few words about my choice of ship and I found myself speeding towards New London once again, this time without cruise disruptors trying to embed themselves in the important bits of my engines.
Code:
[17.02.2015 22:12:33] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Hold it, Crysanthemum.
[17.02.2015 22:12:41] Nishigikoi: [floors it, silently]
[17.02.2015 22:13:09] Nishigikoi: [awkward coughing]
[17.02.2015 22:13:15] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: -hey!
[17.02.2015 22:13:23] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Mm...well I detect no cargo here..
[17.02.2015 22:13:35] RNS-Demon.du.Midi: Martin: The ship is of illegal manufacture, though.
[17.02.2015 22:13:41] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Oui..
[17.02.2015 22:13:42] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: What? This?
[17.02.2015 22:13:44] RNS-Demon.du.Midi: Martin: And the organisation, well...
[17.02.2015 22:13:45] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: No, no, no!
[17.02.2015 22:13:50] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: You've got it -all- wrong.
[17.02.2015 22:13:59] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Oh..? *She tilts her head*
[17.02.2015 22:14:00] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: This is a very, uh- very common model of Sirian transport.
[17.02.2015 22:14:06] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: What the hell? Where are my shields?
[17.02.2015 22:14:17] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: I didn't do ANYTHING!
[17.02.2015 22:14:21] Thierry.Renault: It's a scourge upon the eyes.
[17.02.2015 22:14:23] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: I have rights.
[17.02.2015 22:14:27] Thierry.Renault: But..
[17.02.2015 22:14:34] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: It's a Mark Five 'Toblerone' All Terrain Transport.
[17.02.2015 22:14:43] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: The triangular shape deflects bullets.
[17.02.2015 22:15:10] Thierry.Renault: I don't believe your organization has ever been at odds with our own.
[17.02.2015 22:15:11] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: And, uh- I'm pretty certain that it isn't illegal. Probably.
[17.02.2015 22:15:12] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: *scoffs quietly*
[17.02.2015 22:15:18] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Yeah, yeah - see?
[17.02.2015 22:15:22] 2015-02-17 22:15:13 SMT : RNS-Demon.du.Midi is attempting to engage cloaking device
[17.02.2015 22:15:22] Thierry.Renault: But for the love of all that you hold dear, get yourself a more elegant vessel.
[17.02.2015 22:15:22] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Listen to him. That guy.
[17.02.2015 22:15:26] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: The one in the thing.
[17.02.2015 22:15:30] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Elegant?
[17.02.2015 22:15:33] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Elegant?
[17.02.2015 22:15:37] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Oui...go on, woman...get something...clean.
[17.02.2015 22:15:41] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Be gone from here.
[17.02.2015 22:15:48] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: This is the finest model of transport for all sorts of pi- stuff.
[17.02.2015 22:16:07] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Uh-oh.
[17.02.2015 22:16:23] Thierry.Renault: Well that was different.
[17.02.2015 22:16:36] RNS-Noblesse.Oblige: Aline: Mmhm..
[17.02.2015 22:16:36] Nishigikoi: Kurosawa: Uh-huh.
Man, I wish I'd taken pictures. Oh well.
There's Trafalgar herself. Cool place, too. Those Bretonian accents are really something - as is the food. We don't have 'fish and chips' up in Kusari.
Anyway, one smoooth exchange of credit chits later and I had the both the keys and the (probably forged) papers to a small-tonnage dreamboat.
That would've been the end of it, except I couldn't help but have my ear bent by a couple of humanitarian-types talking in the pub. I was just reading over the small print - can you believe the doors are manual-only on those Renzu ships? - when a few words caught my ear from the neighbouring table. Something about 'refugees', 'Leeds' and 'money', all in quick succession. One short conversation later, and wouldn't you know it - the war in Leeds is really taking its toll on the people. I already knew that, of course - but what I didn't know is that those poor souls are paying top dollar to get lifted off the planet and taken to somewhere, anywhere else.
Emphasis on the top dollar. Hey, I'm nothing if not money-minded. Besides, it's for a good cause - right?
In any case, I didn't even need to worry. Those families were so grateful once I dropped them off at Freeport Four that I didn't even have to ask for their credits.
Part of me feels bad, but then another part of my mind reminds me that my ship recommended I pack at least two hundred more people into that space for 'optimum efficiency'. Now that's cold, if you ask me. They got a solid deal out of my trip.
Unfortunately, one of the engines already went, as of five minutes ago. Luckily, we're already in a docking bay, so it'll be easily enough fixed overnight. And, furthermore, I knew what I was getting into buying this thing. This won't be the last mechanical hiccup, I'll bet.
So, that's the agenda for tomorrow. Make more TOP DOLLAR moving desperate - yet intensely grateful - families off Leeds, then pack the Niboshi back into the Golden Koi and head for home. Either that, or mess around Bretonia and Liberty a bit more. I hear the scrap prices are down, yet still well worth it.
Spending nearly a year station-bound nearly kills you, I gotta say. I think I must've walked down each and every one of Ainu's corridors, like, a thousand times. No joke. Even worse, some joker ran off with some of my ships! I can't find the Golden Koi anywhere, and I now only own two Orchids, but at least the Lance kindly kept the Slice all warmed up and free of rust at Valetta for me. Thanks, Lance! Aaand I found the Niboshi parked right where I left it. I guess nobody wanted a beaten-up, only half-functional Anki to call their own. Shame, too, because she goes a treat. Prime racing material, her.
Still gotta get my contacts list sorted out, though. I hear the Marauders went downhill - or at least, nobody bothered picking up when I gave them a ring. Shame, too. That, and what's left of the Lance is - uh, a jumped-up slave in a Storta's captain chair and Orsini himself, I guess. At least the important one's still kicking, I guess. Not sure when exactly Malta got redecorated entirely in crim- red, rather, instead of the traditional orange, but I don't know if I like the new decor that much.
We'll see. I'm good at getting myself sorted out. Maybe the GMG or someone can get me hooked up with 'opportunity', or maybe I should get my hands on a Sabre with a bollocked transponder and go hunting my fortune Sirius-wide, since the Taus seem to have dried up. I'll miss clashing ships with miss Huntingdon of Java Defense, but I suppose I'll have to let bygones be bygones. Pity, that, 'cause I always did enjoy a good scrap and furball.