From the Office of Ezekiel Jefferson, MD
Planet Los Angeles, California System, Liberty
To my colleagues in the Sirius Psychiatric Association:
I have encountered a case in my studies that might be of interest to myself and other specialists in abnormal psychology. It's fairly recent, from a couple of months ago. If you have any suggestions or corrections to the story, please let me know. The story proceeds as follows:
A tall young man with short blonde hair, dressed in a second-hand flight suit threw open the rotting office door, walked in and slammed his fist down on the desk, which was propped up on one leg with decade-old periodicals.
"That was our last chance! Because of those Dragon cowards this family is going to end up in Sugarland or worse!"
An grey-haired man with similar facial features and nearly perfect posture glanced up slowly past his scratched spectacles. He looked down at the papers in his hand, and scribbled something on one of them with a pencil stub before proceeding.
He sighed and placed the papers down, folding his hands on the desk.
"Look, Jonah. We had no choice but to drop the cargo. They had already knocked out our shields and I wasn't about to jeopardize our lives for credits. Is it fair that we were attacked by two bombers and a gunboat in our stripped down transport? Of course not. Was it typical of the hypocrisy exhibited by the supposedly "honorable" Blood Dragons on a day-to-day basis? Absolutely."
"But there was no reason for them to steal our ship and drop us off at Yanagi with nothing but the clothes on our backs. Do you realize what our family had to do to get a ticket back to New Berlin? And for what? To work as slaves for the rest of our lives?"
"Son. There's nothing we can do to change the past. The fact of the matter is, we got robbed once again and there's nothing we can do to get our ship or our merchandise back. The last of our savings had to go to taxes to the Government to finance that ridiculous war against Liberty."
"Then what can we do?"
With that, the older man picked up his papers and walked out the door without a word. Jonas followed.
They emerged in a working-class neighborhood in a less-developed section of Planet New Berlin. There were plans to develop the area, but so far, no contractors had bothered, seeing that the rest of Rheinland presented far more favorable investment opportunities.
It was towards the beginning of the Earth-year-long Berlinian night, and the temperatures were already starting to hover around freezing.
In front of their single-story duplex, which the Robinson family shared with their close friends and business colleagues, the Hindenbergs, was a familiar shape, about 3 meters tall and covered in a blue tarp.
The older man took up his right hand and quickly pulled off the cover, revealing a well-worn Startracker.
"It's been in the family ever since we moved here from Liberty."
"But dad, those things are so cheap that they don't even sell them in Rheinland. How can we ever make a living with this piece of junk?"
The old man glared at Jonah through his spectacles.
"This piece of junk got us here. It will be perfectly sufficient to get us out of here."
"But where do we go?"
"Somewhere where we'll no longer be harassed by House governments or robbed by pirates or shot at by phantoms or terrorists. Somewhere where hard work will bring us back to where we were before the Blood Dragons and the Government robbed us of everything we owned. Somewhere that isn't even on the map yet. Do I know where? No. We'll keep flying until we find it. And when we get back, things will be right again."
"And I thought I was the crazy one in this family."
The older man chuckled and patted his son's back.
Pack your bags now and tell mom and everyone else to do the same. I'll tell the Hindenbergs; it's not like they have anything left, either. We'll be leaving soon."
"Holy cow, it's crowded in here," complained a rather scruffy-looking Mr. Hindenberg upon loading into the Startracker. There's what, 15 of us in here?"
"Just be glad we didn't fill up all 20 spots, Fred," retorted Mr. Robinson.
"We're headed off to the nearest Freeport to get Zoner identification so Rheinland doesn't harass us about our plan. If we're lucky, they might even subsidize our plan, since deep space exploration is something they specialize in."
"RFS_Freedom, this is the Rheinland Military. Where are you headed?"
"We're on our way to the Edge Worlds."
"In that thing? Are you out of your minds? Between the solar radiation, the Hessians and the Wilde, you'll be dead in no time flat."
"Roger."
"Well it's not my job to care. Proceed."
Several hours later, and after some rather narrow escapes from a number of pirates, and after having made a stop at a nearby station to sell the ship's guns and shield in exchange for repairs, and after that, having the wings of the ship shot off again by marauding Hessians, the Robinsons and the Hindenbergs landed at Freeport 9.
"Sweet mother of Gaia, what happened to that piece of junk?" Asked a surprised Zoner upon seeing the Freedom land in the dock.
Mr. Robinson hopped out of the cockpit.
"We managed to get here from New Berlin in this ship without getting killed."
The Zoner's eyes only got wider when he saw the ship's fifteen other passengers exiting the cargo hold.
"Looks like you packed them in tight."
"Yesiree. Now who's the boss around here? We have some business to attend to."
After a long and tedious discussion with the Zoner commander of Freeport 9, Mr. Robinson emerged from the office with a nervous look in his wrinkled eyes.
"What did they tell you, honey?" Asked a concerned Mrs. Robinson, taking a hold of his arm.
"Well, the good news is that the Zoners are willing to grant us Zoner Identification, so long as we remain politically neutral, which certainly won't be a problem for us. They won't allow us to associate with any of the factions, either, but what do we care? The bad news is that the most they can do in terms of a subsidy is to fix up our Startracker, give us a cheap shield, and load it up with Shield Batteries and Nanobots. The rest is up to us."
A look of desolation spread across the party. Jonah was the first to speak.
"We'll make it. If we made it here without getting killed, we'll be able to find our way out of the known systems. Past that, I don't think there will be many enemies to worry about. Maybe I can go ahead and come back to tell you what happens."
"Don't you go telling us what to do, boy. As long as I'm the father here, what this family does will be my decision, not yours. When you're the man of the household, you can make that decision. I'm not about to let my only son go off and get killed doing something stupid by himself. We're all going. As for the Hindenbergs, Fred can decide what to do."
"If you're in, I'm in. We're in this together. The Hindenbergs are with you."
With that, the party set off in the Startracker called the RFS_Freedom once more with food and water rations donated by sympathetic Zoners, informing the base commander that they would head up through the Tau systems before breaking off and heading in their own direction. The last they were heard from, a group of Outcasts in the remote Taus were about to pirate them but couldn't stop laughing when they realized what was in the cargo hold.
Greetings, Dr. Jefferson. This is Jonah Robinson, Co-Captain of the RFS_Freedom.
In case you were wondering, the RFS_Freedom returned from its mission a several days ago.
The captain of the ship, who, as you might guess, is my father, instructed me to contact you when he saw your post.
In case you wanted to know, our mission was actually highly successful. We cannot release the details of what we discovered past the Edge Worlds of Sirius, but I'm sure they will be made public soon enough.
We have, however, agreed not to release the information ourselves, in exchange for a rather generous cash reward from the Zoners and an anonymous benefactor.
With that generous donation our fortunes are now looking up, and we purchased a brand-new ship that can comfortably and safely transport both my family and the Hindenbergs, as well as ample provisions and several hired crew.
With our new ship, which we named the RFS_Freedom after our first ship, we plan to work in cooperation with our new Zoner brethren, as well as protecting the weak from extortion, since we've had to suffer through plenty of that ourselves.
Our charter is as follows:
The RFS_Freedom
Faction: Zoners. Because we only joined the Zoners the day before leaving on our journey, we are not yet affiliated with any particular faction, although factions are encouraged to send us applications.
Type of Ship: Classified. We can, however, disclose that it is large, and you might see it for yourself if you enter our ZoI.
Armament: Classified, but all appropriate for a Zoner ship of its class.
Mission: To explore and promote new trade routes within the Edge Worlds, to protect Zoner interests, and to assist Traders in distress within our Area of Influence.
Zone of Influence: Systems with Freeports, Systems on the shortest path between adjacent Freeports, Systems with a listed Zoner presence
Crew: 40, with basic emergency provisions
No-Go Areas: Non-Zoner/non-allied human Guard Systems, Capital Systems. We will also work hard to avoid entering House systems in general unless invited in by whichever House owns that system.
Rules of Engagement:
Reserves the right to threaten to engage if the following conditions are met:
A Zoner or a Trader is being threatened or attacked within our Area of Influence, OR
An unfriendly individual or group of individuals with bomber-class or Capital-class ships is in a threatening posture near a Freeport or other Zoner base and refuses to step down, OR
A Blood Dragon bomber or Capital Ship (including gunboat) is encountered in our path in the act of piracy or waiting for an opportunity to commit piracy and refuses to stand down.
Reserves the right to engage immediately if attacked, or if in the presence of Phantoms, Nomads, or Das Wilde, or if the enemy is a drone.
Engagement Restrictions:
If an allied vessel is in combat, we will not intervene unless it is apparent that the allied vessel is close to being destroyed by the enemy- we don't want to risk our lives unnecessarily.
Will not open fire on any ship lighter than a bomber unless attacked first, or unless that ship is a drone, or if it attacks a ship we are escorting or violates a no-fire zone. We do, after all, sympathize with those who are less powerful.
Note: The above restrictions have been placed by Mr. Robinson, who reserves the right to make flexible decisions depending on the situation in order to save lives. He does, however, agree to abide by the Laws of Sirius at all times, regardless of the situation.
With regards to your description of our case as a study in abnormal psychology, well... I won't protest it. We're a rather gutsy bunch, not to mention the fact that Mr. Hindenberg now fancies himself as a now clown for some reason. Dresses up in the costume and everything; I'm guessing the radiation got to him or something.
-Jonas Robinson
P.S. Our IFF transmittter is buggy, and might take some time to fix. Right now it's reading Liberty Police for some reason.
Mr. Robinson woke up, slipped on his robe, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed to the bridge.
One of the great things about a ship being family owned and operated was that there was no need for formality; people simply did what they had to do.
Upon relieving the night shift from duty, he proceeded to the primary monitor, mentally reviewing his morning checklist.
"Shields... check. Power generators... check. Crew... check. Provisions... check. Weapons... PFFFFFFFT"
Captain Robinson spit out his coffee in disbelief, then someone tapped his back.
"HYUK HYUK HYUK, SHINY NEW JELLAHGUNS! YUM!"
"Mr. Hindenburg, did you install those Nomad Turrets on my ship?"
"YES. LESS POWER USE, MORE DAMAGE... MORE JELLAH!"
"We have no idea what they could do, though! This could put us all in danger of infection!"
"I EAT JELLAH AND IT'S OKAY! JELLYGUNS ALL THE WAY!"
Captain Robinson thought for a while. It was true, Mr. Hindenburg did come into regular direct contact with Nomads, namely by digesting them. Although he was strange, it was probably just a result of solar radiation or something. Besides, there was no sign that he had been infected by his contact with Nomads. And a more efficient weapons array was a welcome boost.
"Alright, Mr. Hindenburg. We'll keep them for now. But you're in charge of maintaining them. Since nobody else really knows how to maintain them, train one of the engineers in their use and repair."
"AYE AYE! HYUK HYUK!"
******Incoming Transmission******
******From: RFS_Pennywise******
******Affiliation: Zoner******
******Putting on Clown Suit******
From Mr. Hindenburg Him Self
Battleship Isis, Omicron Minor.
After a long and bright adventure with on the RFS_Freedom, the Hinenburgs are proud to have taken their own adventure away from the RFS_Freedom, on to the RFS_Pennywise. Looking over the ship and paper work for the vessel, it seems as if its a wonder on what jellah ship the guy would be flying. While the paper work for the Zoner affiliation the Hindenburg family just got another copy of the same laws and relations with them. Although this time, set out from the RFS_Freedom, we've left with come credits to go with us and a somewhat better ship than what we'd started out with in the first place.
RFS_Pennywise, has many objectives but one of the few maintain of exploring the edge worlds, protect Zoner Interests, do further research with Nomads, and make sure other Zoners do not get harmed like we had done on the RFS_Freedom.
Zone of Influence: Systems with Freeports, Systems on the shortest path between adjacent Freeports, Systems with a listed Zoner presence, also where nomads are around.
Engagement Rules/Laws.
If one is commiting an act of crime around a Freeport and one does refuse to stand down action will be taken, to protect other Zoners and Zoner Bases and/or A Blood Dragon bomber or Capital Ship (including gunboat) is encountered in our path in the act of piracy or waiting for an opportunity to commit piracy and refuses to stand down.
Even, Reserves the right to engage immediately if attacked, or if in the presence of Phantoms, Nomads, or Das Wilde, or if the enemy is a drone.
Looking back at previous history the thought of how Mr. Hindenburg has got his problems, and previously assuming that it's radiation but, further research has thought that it's taken it a little bit farther than that, considering that he's had strange encounters with Nomads. Looking for the problem it hasn't been quite pulled out and 100% sure on what it exactly is, but their looking at saying it has to deal with the strange encounters with nomads or the radiation exposure.
******Incoming Transmission******
******From: RFS_Pennywise******
******Affiliation: Zoner******
******Putting on Clown Suit******
From Mr. Hindenburg Him Self
Freeport 9, Omicron Theta.
Moving from Battleship Isis, Omicron Minior to Freeport 9, Omicron Theta. Mr. Hindenburg has ran across someone else who has taken a deeper interest into the nomad research then himself. One's name is Bill Johnson, another Zoner who's looked into nomad research. They got deeply caught up into a conversation and historical encounters.
"Well, I have forgotten to mention my research has come to a stop, the last few weeks"
"Why's that? This, this, you've got me deeply caught up, I'd like to learn more lots more about the nomads" Mr Hindenburg Added
"Well, That's possiable, but just last week." He takes a Deep Breath "I lost my ship to my research, I had two cargo pods aboard my ship and, well. I ejected my paperwork then my self" Bill Mentioned
"Yeah? So, Then we can continue on my ship" Mr. Hindenburg said.
"Well, See that's not just all."
"What do you mean, Bill?"
"Well, There's something else."
"What do you mean something else! Tell me, I haven't got time to sit here and play games." Mr. Hindenburg Added
"Well, My wife."
"What about your wife?"
"She'd went down with the ship, My research was much more important"
"Well, We can continue on, and just let that go." Mr. Hindenburg said
"Alright."
"Well, Meet me at docking bay 6, at 7:00 GMT Tomorrow. We'll take off then, and don't forget your research."
"Will do, See you there John."
Mr. John Hindenburg and Bill Johnson, will continue their research, on their voyage they study the activity of Nomads, How they interact and what they do. By Creating Multiple Books and Filling the Shelves full of research information. Returning back to Freeport 9, In Omicron Theta. From their previous destination in the system "Unknown", and it is not to be released to the public.
******Incoming Transmission******
******From: RFS_Pennywise******
******Affiliation: Zoner******
******Putting on Clown Suit******
From Mr. Hindenburg Him Self
Freeport 9, Omicron Theta.
After multiple weeks of out doing field work, researching nomads John decides to take anther adventure out there into the unknown space and start to do more research on nomads and other unknown subjects found in deep space within the edge worlds.
"Ahh, There you are Bill. About time you get here I've been waiting"
"Yeah, I lost track of time looking over previous research"
"About that, when do you plan on letting me read some of that?"
"WHAT! YOU PLAN ON READING MY RESEARCH!"
"Yeah, Whats the big deal about it"
"IT'S MINE YOU CANNOT READ IT, NO ONE CAN!"
"Well, You don't have to make a big scene out of this"
"Well then, Get on the ship! We've preparations to take care of"
"ALRIGHT!"
"Lets go over the check list now. . .
"Shields... check. Power generators... check. Crew... check. Provisions... check. Weapons... PFFFFFFFT WHAT HAPPEND TO MY Nomad Cannons?"
"Their gone! All gone!"
"We're not launching until I can find them!"
"Bill! WHERE DID THEY GO!"
"Don't blame me! I didn't have them" Bill replied . . in a week/deep voice
"What do you mean? You don't have them!"
"Where did they go!"
"I haven't seen them! I . . " Bill paused
"What do you mean I . . ."
"Well, Nothing. Lets get outta here!"
"Wait! We're not launching until I get them back!"
"Fine then, I'll go with out you" Bill replied
"NO YOU WONT! OVER MY DEAD CORPS"
"Well! I have research to do! I gave up my wife for this, and I'll give up you for it too!"
"No you wont!"
"Bill. . ." Paused "Wait hang on, digs around in his papers" *Pulled out a nomad ish gun*
"Wait ! It hasn't have to go this far!"
"Take the ship! Go!" John says scarcely
"Alright, Crew! Lets do this!"
*Crew* "Wait, We work for John, Not you!"
*Crew* "You're Nuts!"
*Crew* "We're outta here!" *Runs off in the distance*
*Ship* Engines firing . . Lifting off
John Hindenburg's thoughts
That man, Was he lieing about his name? Who is he. I was told I'm crazy but him! He's NUTS!
*Thinking*
Oh my, Now what am I going to do! This is not good.
How am I ever going to break the news to RFS_Freedom.
The're not going to be happy about this one.
From Mr. John Hindenburg Him Self
Freeport 9, Omicron Theta.
Corters on Freeport 9
Well, after time goes on John has brought things apon himself, Over looking the reaction that Bill Johnson took after John had given him his most doubtful respect, and trust. He's consitering the thought of anyone else being this way and looking at him self with that clown suit, his actions, and thoughts.
He's taken soo many notes on the Nomad Creatures.
As well as Bill.
Looking around at the shelves and what not in the room, He's realized there are more things around the room than normal, or something is missing.
He's got dates, names of nomads, and further information.
But, Something is diffrent too diffrent, and it isn't right.
After lurking around the room for about one hour, he's realized that Bill had left some of his research there.
For what reason who knows, but some of it is there and it is off to his thoughts on what to do with it.
There's some decent research and data written down on the logs and papers.
"WHAT?" said Mr. Robinson, upon reading the Zoners crime blotter.
"It seems our friend Mr. Hindenburg has gone and gotten his new ship stolen by some mad jelly-obsessed scientist... Right when the guy was beginning to communicate like the guy we used to know before we went on our little trip."
"Dad, I think it's time we just let him go. Mr. Hindenburg has chosen his own path and we already have enough to deal with here on the Freedom," said Jonah, looking over his dad's shoulder.
"Son, Mr. Hindenburg has been with this family longer than you have. Even if we can't afford to set him up at the moment, we still need to let him know that we've got his back. He's starting to show some normal behavior again; now would be a bad time to dump our most loyal friend. Besides, I still think he has more up his sleeve."
"Whatever you say, dad," replied Jonah, with an almost indetectable roll of his eyes.
"Jonah, go put out a bounty for Bill Johnson. Make sure it specifies that it is null if someone kills the guy; stealing a ship isn't worth dying for. Also send a message to Mr. Hindenburg to let him know that we'll help him if he needs help with anything."
"Aye aye, dad."
Victor Robinson sat in the kitchenette of his rented apartment on Harris.
Since he had abandoned New York and renounced his Libertonian citizenship in favor of identifying himself as a Zoner, life had treated him well. He was no tycoon, but his business as a private investigator had brought in a lot more cash than his old job as a sewer technician on Pittsburgh.
Needless to say, his former profession had left him with a great distaste for all things Libertonian, and he was one of the first people to hop on the shuttle to Pennsylvania, where he was promised the tax-free market that only Zoners could provide. He had heard of the success of his cousins, who were rumored to have gotten enough cash from their setting out as Zoners that they were able to purchase their own Juggernaut. Of course, these were just rumors, and he had lost touch with them shortly after they had migrated to Rheinland.
Using the last of his pitiful life savings, he was able to buy an ad in one of the news services for a private investigator service. He had a knack for the business, and soon he was one of the best Private Investigators in Pennsylvania. His new life as a Zoner suited him well. He soon had bought a fully-equipped ship to reach clients in other parts of Pennsylvania, and even a few in other systems.
It came as a shock to him when one day, he was on his way to Bethlehem station to investigate a cheating spouse when he saw a flight of Liberty Navy ships heading towards Erie. He glanced at his scanners and almost immediately noticed that all of the surrounding bases, including Erie and Philadelphia, were under the control of LPI!
Confused and infuriated, he landed on Bethlehem, which was thankfully still identified as being Zoner-owned. Upon undocking, he walked up to a group of dock workers huddled around a holovision screen.
On it, the Libertonian President was making an address.
"People of Pennsylvania, do not be afraid. This is a proud day for the citizens of both Liberty and Zoners everywhere. Today, we join together in the settlement and development of the system known as Pennsylvania. We assure you that this was done with the consent of your leadership, and you will continue to enjoy the same freedoms that you always have. Please welcome our representatives wearing LPI and LN uniforms into your homes with open arms, and stay tuned for further information on how to file income taxes with the Libertonian government. We also ask of you, the people of Pennsylvania, to make an appointment to register as Libertonian citizens and enjoy all the rights we have to offer, including free location tracking and biometric monitoring.
Again, we are proud to join in this historic effort with you, and look forward to working with you in the years to come."
The holoscreen then flashed to a commercial for Synth Paste.
"I'll be damned if I'm going to be Liberty's lackey! This is our space!" said one of the older men of the group.
Victor and several others nodded their heads in agreement. Victor looked around. A sizeable crowd of angry-looking Zoners had formed.
Suddenly, a clean-shaven teenager ran into the middle of the group.
"Navy ship in airlock 5! It looks like a Liberator!"
At once, the crowd ran to the area. They looked through the window, and a middle-aged Navy officer was knocking to be allowed into the station.
Victor reached for the airlock release. The Navy officer's eyes grew wide, and as Victor pulled the lever, both himself and his Liberator were sucked back out into the vacuum of space.
A deathly silence fell upon the gathering. After what seemed like an eternity, the oldest of the group looked at Victor with a grave expression.
"Sir, as much as we all wanted to do that, the Libertonians won't let you get away with it. Follow me."
Victor followed the old man down some stairs to a hidden dock, where an Eagle was waiting.
"Son, I knew this day was coming, so I bought this ship. It is heavily armed, and should serve you well should you choose to fight this annexation. I'm too old to pilot it, but I know you have the guts."
"Sir, I'm honored, but I'm no fighter pilot."
"I'd rather have a man with guts for this job than a man with experience. Now go out there and show them what you're made of. If you need supplies, dock here, but you can't stay for long. We won't let the LPI take Bethlehem as their own, but we can't risk having you here permanently. There's a Junker base out west that might let you stay for a price. There are some credits in a suitcase under the pilot's seat. Good luck."
With that, the old man walked away.
Victor walked up to the ship. This was going to be a long fight, but he wasn't about to give up all that he had gained since leaving Liberty.
Comm ID: Dr. Ezekiel Jefferson, MD, MPH, Planet Los Angeles
It seems I've found yet another strange case related to this rather odd family. While the Psychology of Artificial Intelligence is not my subspecialty, this is an interesting story and might be of relevance to my colleagues in the AI field.
Recently, the Zoner Council decided to force all ships carrying slaves or prisoners to drop their passengers if they landed at any Zoner-controlled Freeport.
Resentful of this decision, a systems engineer aboard the Freedom decided to act in defiance of House Police and Militaries without the Captain's permission by writing a Slaver AI.
As far as the AI went, it was not very advanced nor complicated, largely due to the haste in which its code was written. Its personality algorithms were adapted from an open-source party host system, since that happened to be the only one available to the writer onboard the Freedom.
To procure a ship in which to install the new AI, the engineer applied for a loan to Captain Robinson, which was granted, and the engineer purchased a fully-equipped Slave Liner and installed his AI and a directive to divert a large portion of its financial gains towards repaying the loan.
As it was not in the nature of the engineer to practice cruelty, the AI was designed to treat its passengers as gently as possible. However, a minor glitch in the life support subroutine gave the AI the quirk of randomly selecting passengers for health screenings via anal probing. However, once the probing is complete, the passenger is released into the ship's general population.
In order to provide the maximum level of comfort, the ship was fitted complete with a discotheque for its passengers, as well as a stock of drugs to sedate them. The cargo are eventually brought to their destination, where they are unloaded and sold off. Some of the more attractive passengers are kept on board as crew and entertainers in exchange for room, board, and a steady supply of drugs.