Edited by: Whispere on 16/08/2004 15:44:29
Ladies and Gentlemen, something has happened. Something that may very well shake the foundations of the universe we live in. The tale I am about to bring to you is troubling and unsettling. It will take all the restraint you can summon not to feel anger or confusion or regret.
Many times I have brought you tales of misguided and poorly executed plots against various vessels in space. But this time, friends, things are different.
The system: Avenod. I will never forget the infamy of that day and this system. I would like to say that the stars were glimmering and the planets were glowing, but they were not. In a place where things like days and nights are inapplicable, it was a just another stretch of lonely time. My time.
I was in my Blackbird. Itís the last ship in my hangar that was able to support any sort of decent armament. I was carrying nothing in the ways of nefarious piracy save a single named warp scrambler. I had no webbers. No weapons jammers. I brought nothing to bear that could be considered low or exploitative or unfair. I was just small and insignificant and like many others, I was tired of being kicked around and dirtied up by the galaxy. I felt like a killer. I was a killer. I am a killer.
I warped to the first belt in the system, looking for NPCís. I found a Thorax. Tieberius was his name. Tiberius used to be a name I used to carry. I scoffed at the poor spelling until I realized that I too had an extra ďEĒ in my name. (oops)
I looked at his ship and saw nothing but mining lasers. Scanning his employment history, I noticed heíd been in space about as long as I had. I clicked on the microwarpdrive and silently I began my approach. Closer I came, and closer.. If he didnít notice me with his scanner, he could now by looking out the window. He had no drones deployed, which I thought worrisome. I reached 7.5km, the range of my warp inhibitor. I locked him. My pop-up display told me I was about to commit a crime. Without a second thought, I agreed.
The soft warbling of the jammer pierced the eerie silence. I activated all three of my heavy launchers. They hit home with a thundering explosion. Again I fired.. again.. again.. his damage meter said heíd taken 50% punishment. He had yet to respond. I thought perhaps he wasnít paying attention.. until the heavy drones began to march out like robotic ants.
Ogres and wasps. At least six of them. Wrapped in the warm blanket of my humming shield boosters.. I felt safe. For once in my space-faring career, I was the person with the advantage. The nectar of victory began to fill my mouth.. if he was deploying drones he didnít have the warp stabilization to escape me. And if he were this slow deploying his drones.. he didnít have the time to beat me before my missiles ate him alive.
Again and again I fired my Scourges. I donít know how many I launched. His damage meter hit full red. I was at 70% shields. He was mine. His drones buzzed angrily at me, trying to pry me off their master, but I was the falcon.. I was the raven.. I was segmented and articulated, I was cold and I was ravenous. There was nothing he could do to stop me now. All that had been taken from me, I would revenge upon this glowing spectre in the depths of space. He had brought me to task, and now I was fulfilled.
His hull broke apart around him in a spectacle of soft, quiet light. The drones stopped firing and drifted into the rocks, brainless and without purpose. For the first time in my life, I was looking at someone elseís escape pod.
I realized I was a criminal. Iíd attacked first against a weaker enemy who had done nothing to make himself so. I looked at my reflection in the glass of my flight deck. One word surfaced to my gaze. Pirate. I locked his pod.
Again I jammed him. To this point I didnít know if pirate and murderer were the same thing. I am not a ruthless person. I didnít fly from my station that morning with the intent to kill. The corporation the guy belonged to said ďGermanĒ in it. I wondered if he spoke English. But he was mine now, and though I was still pristinely new at this song and dance, I knew what the next step was.
ď25 Million for your pod. You have thirty seconds to comply.Ē
I didnít expect 25 million credits. I didnít want him to pay that. I wanted a parlay. I wanted him to refuse or accept or say something. I wanted him in his very demeanor to acknowledge my victory. But he stayed silent. His pod was a thousand meters away from a bristling missile hardpoint, and he was quiet as a stone.
ď20 seconds.Ē Continued Here