>>5804177
Sofie calmly responds while her friend glares at Silas, "Don't bother, I already knew. Do you think a mere colonist would have any need for naval training?"

In horror, you realise your careless mistake. For the briefest moment, Silas glanced your way before turning back to the captive.

"If it's true that you're a privateer captain, then we can help one another out. You see, I'm with the Liberation Front..." Her speech was cut off by the wheezing sound of Silas charging his plaspistol, "Don't listen to her! Get out, and get security down here ASAP."

Silas is the most jumpy you have seen, which means this is serious. As you are about to bolt for the door, Sofie continues as if nothing has happened, "The Liberation Front means you no harm, Sylvie. We just want an end to this inhumane war with the Empire."

Your officer still have his gun trained on the captives. You have to act fast if you want to defuse the situation.

>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.
>"Stand down, Silas. Let her finish her speech, then we can decide what to do next." (roll 1d100, DC 80-7=73)
>Block Sofie with your own body. It will piss Silas off, but that's the only way to make sure he doesn't shoot.
>Write-in

>>5804180
>>Block Sofie with your own body. It will piss Silas off, but that's the only way to make sure he doesn't shoot

Rolled 60 (1d100)

>>5804180
>"Stand down, Silas. Let her finish her speech, then we can decide what to do next." (roll 1d100, DC 80-7=73)

>>5804180
>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.
fuck the coombait

>>5804180
>>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.

>>5804180
>>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.
Spacebros before spacehoes.

>>5804180
>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.
bros before hoes

>>5804180
>>Follow Silas' orders. He's been in this business far longer than you are alive.

I remember the cryptic maintenance corridor wiring and how its still using ac in cooper

>>5804934
>>5804946
>>5805008
>>5805132
>>5805248
>Follow orders
>>5804189
>Body block
>>5804389
>De-escalation
>>5804934
I definitely won't forget to include our name and background in future thread recaps. Anyway here it is:
>You are Sylvia Thornton, a senior accountant with some youthful dabbling in investigative journalism.
>>5805584
I heard that it's a pain to have to replace the copper, but is it actually dangerous? If so then whoever first constructed the place should have tagged everything properly.

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>>5807201
You know instinctively who to trust. Slowly backing for the door with your eyes locked with Sofie's, you say softly: "If you truly wished me no harm, then you would have asked nicely rather than tried to suffocate me." Even after clearing the first turn, you can still feel her glare burned on your back. The rest of the run towards the nearest security officer passes by in a haze. Even as you deliver your report to the soldier in fits and gasps, you can't take your mind off of Silas. These Liberation Front people seem dangerous, would he really be fine handling them alone? What if there are more agents aboard the ship?

Suddenly, the world turns on its head. While you struggle to re-orient yourselves to the new up and down, the soldier you have been talking to yelled into his headset, "Breach on Deck 4. We have lost grav. Dispatch a fireteam to my position ASAP, we have unconfirmed report of LibFront activity. Do you copy? Over"

He repeats the message again and again, each time with increasing frustration. Eventually, he turned to you, "Can you take this holo-recording to the barracks? Actually, scratch that, whoever cut off the comms probably beat us to it already. We are not vacuumed yet, meaning life support still holds. Yes, take it there instead, have the techie broadcast it over the intercom."

You can't help asking, "And what will you do?"

"This is serious. I will go down to give your friend some backup."

You simply nod and start running in the opposite direction. However, queasiness remains in your guts. What if there are more agents aboard the ship? You don't remember Deck 4 being this far back. You round a couple turns and wait to contact Silas again to let him know of potential company.

Before you can open your mouth to say anything, however, you found yourself in cuffs. The sergeant glumly recites your rights as his soldiers frogmarch you to the barracks. Sabotaging the air circulator, attempted sabotage of the engines, hacking, conspiracy, looks like there are additional LibFront members on this ship, after all. Your heart sinks at the thought of Silas. Even his years of experience would be hard-pressed against cyber-enhanced troopers.

You spend the night restless in the little cell. That might actually be for the better because now the sergeant from earlier is crouching next to your bed. He whispers, "Sorry for the little show earlier. Silas's genius, all of it. Came to me before you woke up, wanted to help root out all the Libfreaks. Your private? Already shot dead in a gunfight." He showed you a bloody dogtag. "Now us in security are waiting to see if anyone else wants your head. However, we lost contact with Silas earlier. You know him, maybe you can help us..."

Automatic Charisma Pass There is no way this does not stink to high heaven. All you can do for now is try to lead the idiot on and squeeze him for all the information he's worth. The question is how to do it...

>>5807228
Roll 4 2d100, DC 60-7=53. Degree of success depends on number of passes
>Pretend to cooperate, then ask several probing questions
>Accuse him (rightly) to keep him off guard
>Propose a counteroffer: info for info
>If the Liberation Front is so idiotic, maybe you can try your hands at this whole infiltration business?
>write-in

Rolled 85, 82 = 167 (2d100)

>>5807229
>Accuse him (rightly) to keep him off guard

Rolled 33, 39 = 72 (2d100)

>>5807229
>Accuse him (rightly) to keep him off guard

Rolled 3, 71 = 74 (2d100)

>>5807229
>>Pretend to cooperate, then ask several probing questions

Rolled 41, 56 = 97 (2d100)

>>5807229
>Accuse him (rightly) to keep him off guard

Rolled 16, 73 = 89 (2d100)

>>5807229
>Accuse him (rightly) to keep him off guard

>>5807420
>>5807764
>>5808781
>>5808963
>Accusation
>>5807952
>Pretension
4 Passes: Minor Success

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>>5809796
When questioning someone, it's best to keep them on edge. After some thinking, you came up with a few potential leverages, though none are particularly damning. Here goes nothing.

"Don't take me for a child. I know you are with them too. Silas already made Sofie talk." You raise your voice as much as you can.

The sergeant gasps in surprised fear, "Sofie would never...". He quickly gets a hold of himself, but his wrath is even more telling, "Watch your mouth, child! Even if I am Silas's friend, I have to teach you a lesson for that." You raise your hand to block his blow, but it never comes. Your eyes are not accustomed to the dim light, but someone seems to have grasped both of the hot-headed sergeant's hands and bent them behind his back. A familiar voice greets you, "Sorry for not coming in sooner, but I was hoping you can make this idiot run his mouth for a bit longer."

The light turns on, and unexpectedly, another officer is kneeling over the subdued sergeant's back. Silas, standing off the one side, spits on the floor next to the man's face, "Think yerself so clever for taking my boss hostage, eh? Well guess who's the prisoner now?" Even though you know he deserves it, you couldn't help pity the sergeant as Silas sends kick after kick into his ribcage.

Only after he was satisfied with his frontier justice does Silas realise he has forgotten something, "Where are my manners? Sylvie, this is Commander Jean-Pierre de Tassigny of the Directorate Navy. Jean, this is my new boss Sylvia Thornton."

Commander Tassigny gives you a hasty salute which you stiffly return. Another guard comes in and escorts the disgraced sergeant out of the cell, leaving an awkward silence behind. Silas quickly intervenes, "You see, Jean here graduated top of my class, just a couple points above me. The Directorate was strapped for ships back then, so only he got an assignment on an actual ship. After drinking most of my wages away at a backwater defense station for a few months, I decided to quit the Navy for good and went in search of greener pastures."

His former classmate broke out in laughter, "Only a couple points? Last time I checked, in our class everyone but you got a decent assignment. Still, that might have worked out much better in the long run..." You suddenly notice that both his shirt sleeves are significantly longer than regulation, obscuring most of the arms. He heaves a long sigh, and only a faint smile still traces across his thin lips.

Ever the professional, Tassigny quickly gets back to business, "Now that we have made a move, the Liberation Front will surely keep a close watch over the Hermes. Captain Thornton, and you, Silas, have to get off this ship first chance you get. I will have Intelligence scrub your names from the passenger registry and secure a couple of tickets on the Nineveh. You will get to Liteia late, but as our other classmates had figured out, better late than never." Of course, he must have a sarcastic streak too.

>>5809840
Silas turns to you, "So what's the call, boss?"

>"Let's follow Commander Tassigny's call here. The Vanilla Skyline can wait."
>"We should not be afraid of the Liberation Front, they should be afraid of us. Let them come to the Hermes."
>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"
>"The Liberation Front will probably monitor every ship vaguely heading for Liteia from Sol for a while. I don't like this, but we should either take a long detour, or lay low for a while.
>Write-in

>>5809843
>>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"
Can't resist nice comfy cruise can we?

>>5809843
>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"

>>5809843
>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"

>>5809843
>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"

>>5809843
>"Commander Tassigny is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course"

>>5809936
>>5810187
>>5810596
>>5810667
>>5811526
>Private shuttle
Glad to see my quest getting more traction. Please let me know if you have any comments or advice since this is the first time I write creatively. Also I'm happy to answer any questions you might have about the setting in general.

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>>5814216
You appreciate the offer, but if the Liberation Front could infiltrate even an official envoy like the Hermes, there's no way the Nineveh has escaped their notice. Unfortunately, the only solution you can think of that would not significantly derail all your plans is to get your own ship. You try your best to exude confidence as you make your demands:

"Commander Tass-si-nie is right, but the Nineveh might be crawling with Front agents as well. Best to charter our own private shuttle, on the ever-generous Directorate's dime, of course."

Silas is taken aback by the brazen proposal, "Are you out of... never mind. You know Command will not take well to this, right?"

You are hoping for a little more support from your own first officer here, "Command was responsible for letting the Front run free on its own ship in the first place. Least it could do is to guarantee safety for the victims." Maybe a softer approach will work better, "If I were Command, I would be a little bit more thankful for such patriotic assistance in... apprehending subversive elements. As you have taught me, we privateers do the bulk of the Directorate's armed biddings."

Tassigny finally speaks up, "Firstly, just call me Jean-Pierre, you Anglophones are a menace. Secondly, I will relay your offer to Naval Intelligence." Silas opens his mouth, but Jean-Pierre ignores him and continues, "What happens between you and Command is none of my business. Nevertheless, I would recommend you be more careful with your dealings in the future. You will need all the help you can get once you are out there. Have a nice day, whatever remains of it." He leaves swiftly but unhurriedly.

A few hours later, you receive a q-transmission enclosed with detailed instructions on how to board the charter shuttle without attracting undue attention.

After rounding the same corner at the next waystation at least 4 times and slipping through a dozen backdoors and emergency hatches, you arrive at the hangar with a remarkably unremarkable shuttle in it. Once in orbit again you can almost finally breathe in relief. Only one thing remaining to be taken care of. You call upon Silas, "Silas, is the process for changing company names complicated? If I die, I don't want to see that accursed name Dyrnwyn's Black Sun EnterCom anywhere near my headstone."

Choose a new name for your company! Give me a snazzy insignia design too while you're at it.
>Blacksun Enterprise (2 votes)
>Dyrnwyn Company (2 votes)
>Write-in

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>>5814237
>Write-in
Icarus Corporation
Not good at logos so I'm just nabbing this one I found on the net

>>5814237
I already voted Blacksun in the previous thread but I'm fine with any other name

>>5814237
>Blacksun Enterprise (2 votes)

>>5814237
>>Blacksun Enterprise (2 votes)

>>5814331
+1

>>5814237
>>Dyrnwyn Company (2 votes)
>>5814331
+1

>>5814331
>>5815752
>Icarus Corporation
>>5814611
>>5814779
>Black Sun Enterprise
>>5817011
>Dyrnwyn Company
My photoshop skill is rather limited, nonetheless I will try to modify >>5814331 to create our new insignia.

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>>5817318
Out of respect for your late father, you decide to only simplify the name, "How about we shorten it to Black Sun Enterprise? Has a nice ring, doesn't it?"

"It's your company, boss. Do whatever you like. I'll handle the paperwork", Silas sighs.

"While you're at it, can you register this new insignia as well? I've been working on it for the past couple weeks." You ping the design to his datapad.

The next few weeks goes by uneventfully. Either you have managed to shake off the Liberation Front, or you are already helplessly in their grasp. You cannot do anything from the little tramp shuttle regardless, so might as well relax and enjoy the ride.

Lighton Shipyard, one of the largest docks in Liteia, was disappointingly small to such a Coreworlder as yourself. Silas points to one of the cruisers moored to the station's side, "There she is, the Vanilla Skyline. A beauty, isn't she? How did your old man ever stumble upon such a wonder..."

Although warships aren't a rare sight for Lunarians, you still feel your heart flutter. After all, this ship is yours, and yours alone. You move your eyes along the shapely contours of the hull, broken up at regular intervals with large turrets cunningly raised to provide the largest firing arc possible. Railguns, pulsed lasers, missiles, this ship is armed from prow to stern. Still, they are all offline right now, and you can notice a few scaffolds not yet removed around the shiny new bridge. As the shuttle goes into final approach, charred spots here and there stand out from the otherwise subdued beige of the armor plates. Silas nods in satisfaction, "We are lucky, the lazybones did finish the repairs on schedule after all."

The three new stripes on your shoulder bridge do not please you as they should, much to your annoyance. After all the studying, the interview turned out to be a cakewalk. What a waste of effort. Silas was right, seems like the Directorate is desperate enough for fighting ships that they would not want any grounded for whatever reason. One of the examining officers, a bored rear-admiral, even pulls you over after the test and gives you a routinely practiced speech over the importance of 'taking into account' any advice offered by your more experienced subordinates. At any rate you can finally force Silas to address you properly.

>>5817340
"Congratulations, Commander" Silas extends a grin back on the squeaky clean bridge of your new cruiser. Of course, seeing how ranks are essentially purchased with the ship, you won't become captain until somehow you get your hands on a capital of some sort. Silas continues, "Let's get down to business. I have gathered the men and briefed them on their new commander. Now you only need to go down to the commons and introduce yourself. Don't try to impress them, you'll only make a fool of yourself." Is that a challenge?

Roll 3 1d100 for your first appearance before the crew.
>Follow Silas' advice and make your pep-talk as brief as possible (Automatic success)
>Pepper in a few raunchy jokes to reduce tension (DC 40-7=33)
>Assert your authority, these men must know their place (DC 65-7=58)
>Give the speech of your life. Let the men think you are Cobbler Lucas, Two-fingered Ly, and God all rolled into one (DC 90, all bonii inapplicable)

Rolled 43 (1d100)

>>5817340
Looks good!

>>5817342
>Assert your authority, these men must know their place (DC 65-7=58)

Rolled 65 (1d100)

>>5817342
>Assert your authority, these men must know their place (DC 65-7=58)

>>5817342
>>Follow Silas' advice and make your pep-talk as brief as possible (Automatic success)

Rolled 37 (1d100)

>>5817342
Nice edit

>Assert your authority, these men must know their place (DC 65-7=58)

Rolled 14 (1d100)

>>5817342
>>Pepper in a few raunchy jokes to reduce tension (DC 40-7=33)

Sorry something came up so I couldn't post an update today

>>5817420
>>5817449
>>5818728
>Assert authority
>>5819316
>Appear friendly
>>5817800
>Remain distant
Roll: 65 - Minor Success
This quest has been getting lots of minor successes, our ever-dependable Silas would be proud.

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One thing you learned while being a journalist was that first impression does count. Especially in such a large ship as yours where the rank and file are at least three levels of command removed from their captain and would most likely never see her face-to-face again for the rest of the sortie. If they think you a lenient, or worse, uninvolved captain, discipline is sure to suffer. You must drill some respect into them, but how? The men would just laugh if a soft Coreite landlubber like you try to intimidate them.

As the entire crew gathered before you in the common hall, you decide on a middle course. Silas does not want you to deviate from his notes, but he never said anything about maintaining order. You take a deep breath and raise a fist. The rowdy crowd simmers down to a few mutters. Now the show can begin.

Your index finger extends from the curled fist and points at a young chap, the most impressionable target you can find, "You there, seaman. What are you chittering on about?"

The offender soon has the entire crowd staring at him. He nervously gulps, "No-nothing madam." A hand rests from his shoulder, belonging to the second officer whom you just met. Lieutenant Johnson gives you a reassuring nod. The poor boy is now blushing to his ear, "I'm so-sorry madam, it won't happen again, I swear on me mum."

Although you feel bad for him, an example still needs to be made. "Latrine duty for the next week, and that's the Coreite in me being soft. Next time I will be far harder, do you understand?"

His words quake and trip over themselves, but eventually string together into a complete sentence, "Understood, ma-dam. I... I meant, Or-order acknowledged."

The whole room is entirely quiet now, and not a soul dares interrupt your speech. Even so, most of the vets must realise you have been picking on easy prey. It will take much more than empty posturing to convince these vacburned toughs.

The test run went by uneventfully, giving you plenty of time to get used to the command structure of the ship. Right under you are the Lieutenant Commanders Silas O'Keefe and Temerick Johnson, and it is to them that all other officers deliver their reports. This arrangement thankfully limits contact between you and the rest of the crew and gives you plenty of free time to continue your ad-hoc training. One day as you are reading a book on naval history in your office, officer Johnson gently raps the door. Second-gen Liteian with UN bureaucrats for parents, he certainly has some of that Coreworld charm with him. Much less talkative and much more agreeable than Silas, too.

>>5823375
He salutes you before coming in and closing the door behind him, "Madam, we have completed the tests. All systems are 98% operational. Lieutenant Commander O'Keefe has several proposals for our next move." Finally, time for some excitement.

For your next sortie, roll 3 2d6, first roll for encounters, second roll for our initial preparation.
>"We can skirt the edge of colonised space and strike their isolated fringe-traders. Not the best loot, but not too much danger either."
>"We can try to infiltrate the Kaskandir Line and hit vulnerable Qyngur resupply convoys. Sizeable escorts, but Command is willing to pay a bonus for any vessels vaccumed so close to an active front."
>"We can protect our own traders. Underpaid and under-appreciated, but relatively safe. I would advise this course, best not to stress to ship so much while the paint's not yet dry."
>"Do you have any other plans?"

Rolled 3, 6 = 9 (2d6)

>>5823376
>"We can skirt the edge of colonised space and strike their isolated fringe-traders. Not the best loot, but not too much danger either."

Rolled 3, 5 = 8 (2d6)

>>5823376
>>"We can skirt the edge of colonised space and strike their isolated fringe-traders. Not the best loot, but not too much danger either."

Rolled 5, 5 = 10 (2d6)

>>5823376
>>"We can skirt the edge of colonised space and strike their isolated fringe-traders. Not the best loot, but not too much danger either."

>>5823376
>"We can try to infiltrate the Kaskandir Line and hit vulnerable Qyngur resupply convoys. Sizeable escorts, but Command is willing to pay a bonus for any vessels vaccumed so close to an active front."

>>5823376
>"We can skirt the edge of colonised space and strike their isolated fringe-traders. Not the best loot, but not too much danger either."

>>5823376
>"We can try to infiltrate the Kaskandir Line and hit vulnerable Qyngur resupply convoys. Sizeable escorts, but Command is willing to pay a bonus for any vessels vaccumed so close to an active front."

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To say the last two months has been lucrative would be an understatement. Snaking through the Outer Antares Spur on a newly charted slipstream route, the Vanilla Skyline had re-appeared far behind the main Qyngur defensive lines in a lightly patrolled sector. The fool xenos were busy relocating their industrial base here, thinking the region safe, but now Terran fire was once again hot on their heels. Freighters, tankers, passenger liners, waystations, even freshly-impressed patrols sent to investigate recent disappearances, all were reduced to ashen husks. On several occasions, the small marine platoon attached to your ship even assaulted and ransacked isolated settlements. A handful of the fastest liners were already sent back to Liteia, their passenger bunks filled with the most valuable loot while still slick with the ichor of previous occupants. Even though prize crews were running low, you could still turn a healthy profit simply destroying shipments thanks to the open bounty placed on all Qyngur industrial equipment.

If there's anything less than fortunate, it was that this lucky streak has not cemented the men's trust in you. Although Silas and Johnson made clear credit for planning should go to you (it should not), they could not hide the fact that they alone did all the actual commanding on this ship. If this situation was allowed to continue, you might as well hand over the yoke to Silas (as if it were ever in your hands) and comfortably retreat into an early retirement...

"Hmmm... I suppose you make sense, Commander. Just putting on a pretty show hasn't worked out so far." Silas' face resolves into a toothy grin, "At least you are learning fast. From tomorrow I and Johnson will be handin' the mundane work back to you. Maybe when we catch an easy prey you could even get some proper dancin' experience." Johnson nods with a slight smile. Come to think of it, he was rather evasive whenever you tried to make small talk with him, and you never heard Silas called him by any of the nicknames he's so fond of sticking to people. Silas would probably give you a tongue-lashing if you bring up the matter with him, however, so great was his trust. The paranoiac in you thinks him foolish, but you hope yourself better than that.

Shit forgot to tally the vote
>>5823464
>>5823606
>>5823782
>>5824498
>Isolated region
>>5823913
>>5824766
>Logistic backline
Roll 5, 5: Major success

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>>5824955
Don't mind the changed ID, I'm posting from work. I'm planning to update more often for at least as long as this battle lasts
Just three days after you little chat, as you are still easing yourself into your new responsibilities, the perfect 'dancing' opportunity falls into your lap. A small convoy has been spotted by one of your scouting probes nearby. You give orders to guide the ship behind a gas giant's asteroid ring the next system over and fortify the position before turning off all sources of emissions. As expected, your passive sensors soon pick up the bogey jumping into the system, manoeuvring for a slingshot, and disappearing behind the massive cloud of gas. Jackpot. Anxiety wells up your throat, and you make several barely audible gulps. Although you know no sensors, Terran or Qyngur, could detect your breath, you can't help but hold it in. Perhaps it's this quaint habit of irrationality which still gives human a place in the machines of war despite the advent of sentient AI. Not even the station-sized banks of data processors and storage burrowed into hollowed-out moons at the heart of any major factions could quite predict what a meatbag will do when placed under stress.

A junior officer pierces through your straying thoughts, "Madam, we are seeing them again." He breaks into a sweat, "Th-they are heading straight for our position." The central screen lights up, showing at least four different contacts charging parallel to the ring. Silas curses, "Damn it, so they have arrived after all." He turns to you, "Fast response task force. If the readings are correct, that should be a light cruiser and three destroyers, cream of the Qyngur navy." The flash of fear in his eyes tells you all you need to know: one of these killed your father, perhaps this very same one. But the tables have turned, you are now the ambusher.

Roll me 3d100 for our first real battle. I will not reveal DC since we are still too inexperienced to know that.
>"Activate the mines and remote sentries. Don oxygen masks, time to play dead. The Qyngur is desperate for our tech, we shall lure them in before snapping the trap." (mines and drones can deal significant damage, but your ship will start combat at knife-fighting range)
>"They are still in a loose searching formation, must have not seen us yet. Wait for the destroyers to pass, then fire a torpedo salvo at their command ship" (can cripple the most dangerous foe, but if failed will leave us surrounded)
>"Let them pass, we can sneak out of the system afterwards. They outnumber us, no point risking it." (may avoid combat altogether, but will hurt crew morale)
>"What would be your suggestion, Lieutenant O'Keefe?" (let Silas take the lead, this will make the men lose respect in you)
>Write-in

Rolled 28 (1d100)

>>5824963
>"Activate the mines and remote sentries. Don oxygen masks, time to play dead. The Qyngur is desperate for our tech, we shall lure them in before snapping the trap." (mines and drones can deal significant damage, but your ship will start combat at knife-fighting range)

Rolled 5 (1d100)

>>5824963
>"Activate the mines and remote sentries. Don oxygen masks, time to play dead. The Qyngur is desperate for our tech, we shall lure them in before snapping the trap." (mines and drones can deal significant damage, but your ship will start combat at knife-fighting range)

Rolled 90 (1d100)

>>5824963
>"Activate the mines and remote sentries. Don oxygen masks, time to play dead. The Qyngur is desperate for our tech, we shall lure them in before snapping the trap." (mines and drones can deal significant damage, but your ship will start combat at knife-fighting range)

And just as I thought things might finally get interesting...

>>5825063
>>5825460
>>5825544
>Play dead
DC: 80 - 4 = 76 (half engineering + half charisma bonus applied). Roll: 90 = Major Success!

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>>5826724
The bridge is deathly silent after you give your order. Understandable, since playing dead is by far the most dangerous tactic, and the most desperate. You might as well fly straight into the gas giant and the results would largely be the same. No, it would actually be better since that way you would leave nothing behind for the Qyngur to salvage. Still, you know this is the only chance in hell of killing these heathen xenos and finally shake off the taint on your name for good.

Seeing Silas still lost for words, Johnson acknowledges your order, "Yes, Ma'am. Get to work! Are you all corpses or what?" In a few hours you will know the answer.

Across your entire ship emergency lockers are raided for rebreathers, safety lamps, mag boots, and of course every manner of guns and swords known to man. Once all departments have reported ready, you order all breakers thrown open, plunging the entire ship into a shadowy silence save for the flickering white light of chemical lamps. As the oxygen still in the air is slowly replaced with carbon dioxide over the next few hours, the color will slowly shift to sickly yellow, then suave golden, then somber red, and finally only choking darkness will remain. Even though the Vanilla Skyline is meant for ambush operations, its designers also quietly condemns this particular stratagem by leaving only enough space for a few hours' worth of air. Exactly how many you do not wish to find out, but Goldsmith, the straight-laced engi chief, pinged you an estimate of 5 hours 40 minutes anyway.

Among all this mayhem Silas has asked for your permission to leave the bridge and directly oversee the temperamental shield. His presence here to keep the junior officers in line would be greatly appreciated, but you already know the only answer you can give. You thankfully still have Johnson for back up.

15 minutes. The hurried whispers have died down as everybody now knows the last time you visited a shrink.

30 minutes. You can see the slightest hint of yellow in the lamp now. You wonder whether the charred blotches you have asked the dockyard hands not to paint over would hold up under inspection.

1 hour. You do a routine check with all departments through the one low-power radio still operational. Maybe the next time you are in port you should buy a old mechanical timekeeper. The rhythmic ticking would do wonder for your nerves.

2 hours. Another check. You would kill for anything, anything to fill all this empty time.

3 hours. The third check. One of the cadets couldn't hold his mouth anymore, "They are not taking the bait. We have to turn on the shields now, there's still time. Quick, quick, qu-" Johnson tackles him as he tries for your control panel. You nod at him and holster your derringer. Can you take the shot when the time comes?

4 hours. After this will be the last check. You cannot afford to run the air too low and risk degraded performance from carbon poisoning. The light now casts dusk across the room.

Is this a vote?

>>5826778
Just before you reach your comms for the last time, you hear a soft voice. Moynihan's, the sensors officer. With most of his equipment turned off, his job paradoxically got more difficult because what remains required quite a bit more eye strain to operate.

"Azimuth 40 degrees, elevation -30 degrees, range... near, under 6000km and closing. Damn this worthless stereoscope."

Under 6000km... Just a little more. His voice streams in again, "Silhouette matches with the Sparrow-class destroyer." Designated Sparrow, this mean little warship is the reason why all Terran raiders are required to carry copious quantities of demolition charges for 'energetic decommission'. Redeployed Terran guns break out like eyesores across its smooth and sleek hull (the only thing you would give these xenos), but the real terror lies deep inside its bowels. Each of these destroyer carried at least a dozen unexploded AM torpedoes now equipped with new, hopefully more reliable fuses. Even if the launcher is crippled during a fight, there is no crew on this ship, only martyrs.

You must wait, there will only be one chance to destroy this thing. The four hours in near silence feel far shorter than these last four minutes evenly punctuated by Moynihan's callouts.

"5000...

4000...

3000, it is slowing down...

2500...

And... It has stopped...

It is turning away now."

Latching onto that last word, you start the sequence, "One. Set."

Almost immediately, Goldsmith responds, "Two. Set." The emergency generator in life support must turn on first to give the main reactor the kick it needs to roar to life.

"Threeee. Settt." Second Lieutenant Achebe's deep baritone resounds amidst the cracks of electricity in the reactor room.

"Four... Set." Metal thudding and klanking almost drowns out Gunnery Officer Elysium's shrill report. Without power, the guns must be loaded by hand.

"Five, set." The clicks of an analog torpedo programmer barely rises above the static.

"Six. Set." Silas' voice carries a quiet, almost inhuman, determination. No other Thortons shall die before him.

"Seven set." The men becomes even more quiet when Second Lieutenant Dornholm almost sings into the comms. They call her Lightspeed's Angel, and her looks were often liberally compared to yours behind corridors' corners.

All departments are ready. No doubt can remain, not now. You nod to Johnson, who gives the final countdown, "Zero...

Footsteps all around you, "Zero...

A jet of stale air shoots out from the vent overhead, "Zero...

You deactivate your mag boots and float slightly, "Zero."

In an instant, the agrav jerks you back down on to the floor. Dusk is replaced by everlasting noon, no shade shall hide the enemy from you now.

>>5826796
Sorry, I got a bit too excited writing this part and press the send button too early. The next post will be the vote

>>5826802
What happens when a destroyer gets raked by a full cruiser broadside? You don't know, it was too fast. But you do know the result if one adds several fusion torps on top. Elysium had insisted that the antimatter be saved for the light cruiser, and he would be right.

Your admiration for the bits and pieces of your own handiwork was short-lived, however, as Moynihan quickly finds the rest of their little task force. Sparrow-2 and a larger contact, presumably the flagship, are being harassed by light laser fire a fair distance off to your port. Meanwhile, Sparrow-3 is slowly opening the range on your starborad after an explosion. Johnson chimes in, "It must have hit a mine. Shame we haven't deployed any sentries near that position."

You had a good start, let's see if you can keep up.

No time for dices, only judgement and mettle matters now
>Intercept that crippled destroyer, let nothing leave this asteroid belt (knocks out Sparrow-3, but gives time for the other two ship to reform for combat)
>Charge the lead ship, if we can destroy the greatest threat, the isolated remnants would make for easy pickings (engages the light cruiser at close range, may leave yourself open to flanking attacks from Sparrow-2)
>Manoeuvre out of the asteroid belt and leverage your superior guns for a turkey shoot (a safe bet, but might make it difficult to pursue retreating enemies afterwards)

>>5826802
No problem

>>5826811
>>Manoeuvre out of the asteroid belt and leverage your superior guns for a turkey shoot (a safe bet, but might make it difficult to pursue retreating enemies afterwards)

>>5826811
>>Manoeuvre out of the asteroid belt and leverage your superior guns for a turkey shoot (a safe bet, but might make it difficult to pursue retreating enemies afterwards)

>>5826811
>>Charge the lead ship, if we can destroy the greatest threat, the isolated remnants would make for easy pickings (engages the light cruiser at close range, may leave yourself open to flanking attacks from Sparrow-2)

>>5826811
>>Manoeuvre out of the asteroid belt and leverage your superior guns for a turkey shoot (a safe bet, but might make it difficult to pursue retreating enemies afterwards)

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Didn't adjust the colour palette because I was lazy, but I hope you like it OP

>>5826857
>>5826890
>>5827188
>Salvo
>>5827000
>Charge nice trips

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>>5827935
Death has intoxicated you. A blood-red haze now hangs over your vision, compelling you to charge at the three blips on the radar screen heedless of all danger. Squeezing the handrail of your chair, you try to resist its lure. There must be another way, something else you can do.

"When facing a great number of smaller enemies, keep your range. Under no circumstance can they be allowed to surround and overwhelm you."

Your first lesson, paid for in your father's blood. The sanguine mood subsides, you shall have your fill of cold vengeance yet...


Aboard the Hand of Stone, Higher Navarch Ame-Terret gnashes his spike-like mandible in frustration. Earlier, a faint distress signal has sounded from within the rock-ring he personally chose for the floor-breaking. Naturally, one does not make home without clearing all its entrances first, so he split up his under-hive to thoroughly search the whole region. Just as the Exile's Bread reported visual contact, the sound-tunnel collapsed. Have those fanatic lesser-borns gone martyr on him? All of the sudden, energy-darts started bouncing against his worm's sturdy carapace, coming from filthy machine-guards. For every of these he destroyed, two more would reveal themselves. He wanted to pull back, get his under-hive together for hole-to-hole clearing, but the White Moss is now scurrying further away after suffering heavy damage from a mine (may the Great Burrower feast on that dungcrawler of a Hivekeeper's heart).

At least the, what's it called, Banshee has now regrouped with him. Apparently this creature is some sort of malevolent spirit of the Feast, how typical of the hairless to fear even the most natural of acts. Ame-Terret still could not believe how his proud overhive, vanquisher of a thousand worms, could be reduced to playing nunnery for damn egg-eaters. In better times, he would have made his hunting grounds elsewhere. In this Last Time, even a Navarch has to humour a hairless' ichor-debt.

Suddenly his overlings reported contact over the ring. Soon after, a sound-tunnel was opened from the Banshee. The matriarch glares at him, "You can help if you want, but remember, this is my ichor-debt to settle." As if a lowness like him would ever want it to begin with. Before he could even laugh, however, the White Moss disappears from his search screen.


Usually, firing into an asteroid belt is tricky business due to all the natural cover. If said asteroid belt is littered with your own mines, however... You don't even have to nail a direct hit, just need to herd the quarry to their own explosive deaths.

"Bullseye." Elysium excitedly yells over the intercom. The kid's got talents, you have to admit, but he has to really learn some self-control. You wonder what kind of person his uncle the last gunnery officer was like. Still, for now his enthusiasm is an asset. Sparrow-3 down, just two more birds left.

>>5827993
Ame-Terret's claws are shaking profusely after breaking the seal, letting the missive fall to the floor. His entire under-hive, to be sacrificed before the Banshee gets so much as a chink on its carapace. No choice, Order from the Lowest. For the briefest moment, he considered not so much eating as just wantonly destroying the Great Qyngur's eggs. How could she value a loyal Navarch's life less than that of a hairless, and an egg-eater at that? Still, an order is an order. Ame-Terret said his last battle prayer, "Heart of the Rock, lease me your fire. Together, I, Navarch Ame-Terret and the hairless scum that dared murder my Keepers shall repay you tenfold." Now reborn as a martyr vessel, the Hand of Stone shall burn bright one last time.


"Ma'am, Marlin-1 is approaching, fast. But Sparrow-2 seems to be moving away..." Moynihan continues, "Hold on, the readings aren't right. Either that ship has been heavily modified, or someone has spent a lot of effort making something else looks like a Sparrow."

What is your order?
>Pull back, focus your fire on Marlin-1 before it gets close (avoids damage, but Sparrow-2 will get away)
>Plot intercept for Sparrow-2, you cannot let it escape (cut off Sparrow-2's retreat, but might let Ame-Terret repay his debt)
>Ask for Silas' recommendations (most likely better outcome, but lose respect)
>Write-in

>>5828001
>Plot intercept for Sparrow-2, you cannot let it escape (cut off Sparrow-2's retreat, but might let Ame-Terret repay his debt)

>>5828001
>Plot intercept for Sparrow-2, you cannot let it escape (cut off Sparrow-2's retreat, but might let Ame-Terret repay his debt)

>>5828001
>>Ask for Silas' recommendations (most likely better outcome, but lose respect)

>>5828001
>Plot intercept for Sparrow-2, you cannot let it escape (cut off Sparrow-2's retreat, but might let Ame-Terret repay his debt)

>>5827585
Looks really neat anon

>>5828001
>Ask for Silas' recommendations (most likely better outcome, but lose respect)

4chan has been really slow and unresponsive for me the past few days, I cannot even get the captcha to post. Anyone else seeing the same problems?
>>5828081
>>5828145
>>5828420
>Intercept
>>5828420
>>5828909
>Advice
>>5828421
Since there's some interest I can hold a vote later to make this >>5827585 our official flag or I may just use it anyway since I really like it

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>>5831007
Terrifyingly clever, the Qyngurs can be sometimes. How to secretly escort an important vessel through raider-infested space? Why, you embedded it within an anti-raider taskforce. What privateers would dare be in the same stellar neighbourhood as your package, especially after they learned one of their colleagues/rivals got vacc'ed? Unfortunately, this time they have picked the worst ambush spot possible.

That would certainly explain the strange readings and erratic behaviours of Sparrow-2, but it is just one potential explanation. Even if Silas can be terribly persuasive. Perhaps this is an experimental vessel of some sort? New electronic warfare equipment? Or maybe a high(or in the Qyngur's inverted worldview, low)-ranking political asset needs some special accommodation? Regardless of the reason, it is clear that the ship is obviously of high value. The only question left, then, is whether or not it is worth more than safely riposting Marlin-1's mad charge. Still high from the combat euphoria of the past half hour, you decide to plot for intercept and test fate once more.

Without any destroyer support to corral you into a clean torpedo attack vector, normally Marlin-1 would be quite powerless. However, your own freedom to manoeuvre is greatly constrained by the need to pursue Sparrow-2, something you know the enemy Hiver would most definitely exploit.

The range closes. Your point-defense pulsers and railguns barely intercept a salvo of torpedoes, their barrels blooming white heat. Your own heavy guns, in the meantime, harmlessly scars a few asteroids. Marlin-1 is purposefully presenting the smallest target aspect possible and making constant erratic course changes to throw off your targeting unit. At least the secondary lasers are scoring dozens of hits, but without actual kinetic pressure they might as well be useless against the enemy's energy shield. This is precisely the situation you want to avoid, but you have no way to disengage anyway, not without exposing your own flanks. Might as well keep on pushing your luck.

"Turret 1 is destroyed, I repeat, destroyed." The smoot-covered spacer takes the longest breath in his life, "We're now sealing all surrounding bulkheads." That went much better than you thought. You lost one turret in the fly-by, but in exchange Marlin-1's starboard side was eaten through by star-flares, the plasma canisters often deployed as a last-ditch defense against oncoming missiles. Even better, if the Hiver is foolish enough to turn and make chase, he would have to present his entire broadside of a barn to the remaining 7 turrets. As you savour the sight of the soon-to-be-derelict drifting helplessly, a sudden shock sends you sprawling to the floor.

>>5831061
"What th-" You are interrupted by an urgent message from engines, "Anyone there? A massive explosion just ripped off half our nacelles. Dornholm is out of action." You clamber up again only the find Marlin-1 has vanished from the tactical screen. Along with most of your rear engine. No matter, you have built up enough speed, the remaining thrusters should still be sufficient to get you in range of Sparrow-2...

Silas breaks into your vision tunnel, "Every single Qyngur military vessel in a 5 parsec radius is burning towards us. Without thrust, we must get out now." Before the daze even wears off, your comms panel lights up. Jean-Pierre. "Come in, Commander Thorton, if you can hear me. Do not let that vessel escape. Capture if possible, destroy it otherwise. The Armitage is moving in to assist. ETA 6 hours."

You don't know what is happening, nonetheless you know you must make a choice. But before all that, let's roll, say, 3 1d100 to help calm the nerves.
>All energy to remaining thrusters. Time to get the hell out of here.
>Sensors have shown that a planet nearby is scarred by massive chasms. Hide in one of them.
>Maintain contact with Sparrow-2 while waiting for the Armitage.
>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.

Rolled 87 (1d100)

>>5831063
>>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5831063
>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.
Bitch to be you right now.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5831063
>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself

>>5831063
>>All energy to remaining thrusters. Time to get the hell out of here.

>>5831063
>>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.

EVERY vessel in the region? Whatever the hell it is, it has to be strategically important.

>>5831063
>>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.

>>5831063
>Try to approach and disable Sparrow-2 yourself.

>>5831226
>>5831229
>>5831277
>>5831618
>>5832102
>>5832525
>Capture Sparrow-2
>>5831554
>Retreat
Roll 87 vs. DC 80: Minor Success

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>>5832742
Without reinforcements, your first officer's advice is definitely attractive. However, the Armitage is a well-balanced light cruiser and, if Silas is any indication of that particular crop of academy graduates, also well-led. "All remaining thrusters to full power", Silas sighs in relief, "We're moving in." His breath cuts short.

Without main engines, you have to steer clear of the unpredictable asteroid belt. A direct hit with the main guns could easily saw Sparrow-2 in half, which leaves only the secondary battery. Hopefully its shield generator won't be able to cope with lasfire nearly as well as Marlin-1's.

As you are moving into firing position, Moynihan pings your console again, "Ma'am, Sparrow-2 is reversing course. It is heading straight for us." Yet another martyr. "Wait a moment, new readings coming in. It's... not a Qyngur vessel. A Bowyer-class destroyer? It can't be." What? How? A Terran destroyer in Qyngur service, such a thing should be impossible. "It is hailing us. Should I open a channel?" Putting the request on the widescreen, you are struck dumb when she appears.

"Sylvia Thornton, you will pay for what you've done to my daughter." The woman looks only faintly familiar. However, that spiteful glare is unmistakable. It is also directed at the wrong person, since you were either fast unconscious or securely locked-up for most of the Hermes incident. You try to mumble some half-excuse, half-apology, but Johnson jerks his hand to cut the comms, "Don't let them see your weakness. Whatever you did, keep it to yourself." Realising the entire bridge is watching, he smoothly adds, "That would be my advice, Ma'am." You nod and smile weakly, "Thank you, Johnson. I will consider it." After you have dispatched Sofie's vengeful mother, of course.

Main guns all powered and ready, you send salvos after salvos in the destroyer's direction, only to hit innocent asteroids. As is expected of Coreworld engineering, your adversary is fast and nimble. You impotently watch the blip steadily draws close to torpedo range. Without most of your thrusters, it would be difficult to dodge the impending salvo.

Suddenly, like a stumbling runner Sparrow-2 slows down and jerks a little. Johnson exhales expectantly, "Launch detected, PD ready for interception. Huh? It is not aimed at us." Before the ship can regain momentum, 12-inch railgun slugs tear through its hull, followed by several more laser beams. Elysium excitedly shouts on the intercom again. You definitely have to drill some discipline into that kid. In the meantime, Johnson orders Moynihan complete a full scan on the launched objects. Lifepods. This is getting more and more strange.

With the Armitage finally arriving on the system's edge, you now have several choices.
>Quickly destroy the wreck and retreat.
>Thoroughly secure the wreck and lifepods while Jean-Pierre distract incoming hostile patrols
>Further fortifies your current position and hold your ground.
>Write-in

>>5832821
>Thoroughly secure the wreck and lifepods while Jean-Pierre distract incoming hostile patrols
We better be getting a hell of a bonus for this.

>>5832868
Oh you don't need to worry. If we manage to drag that destroyer back to friendly territory, the war prize court might just award the whole thing to us outright. Considering we just put half a dozen 12" shells into it, however, that is a very big if.

>>5832821
>Thoroughly secure the wreck and lifepods while Jean-Pierre distract incoming hostile patrols

Holy shit, no wonder its such a huge deal for both sides, its a turncoat coreworld ship. We better get a hell of a payday, as well as cheap or free repairs for this shit.

Also remind me who Sofie is and why her mom became a traitor?

>>5832980
Earlier this thread while we were still travelling out to Liteia on the shuttle LDS Hermes, our roommate Sofie poisoned us and tried to hack into our tablet. Apparently, she was working for the Liteian Liberation Front, a pacifist organisation which has resorted to less than savoury methods to end the Directorate-Qyngur War. Fortunately, she got caught by Silas. Less fortunately, her associate took us hostage in turn. In the end, Silas managed to get into contact with his old pal from Naval Academy Jean-Pierre, now a properly commissioned officer, who promptly arrested all Liberation Front agents onboard and freed us. What happened to Sofie afterwards I will leave to your guess.
All this understandably pissed off her mother, and might have persuaded her into do something drastic, like starting a mutiny.
Jean-Pierre may or may not have certain connections to Intelligence, which certainly explains his influence over Naval Command (chartering a private shuttle for us) and his convenient presence in all the right places.

>>5832821
>>Thoroughly secure the wreck and lifepods while Jean-Pierre distract incoming hostile patrols

>>5832821
>Quickly destroy the wreck and retreat.

>>5832821
>Thoroughly secure the wreck and lifepods while Jean-Pierre distract incoming hostile patrols

>>5832821
>Quickly destroy the wreck and retreat.

>>5832868
>>5832980
>>5833118
>>5833450
>Distraction
>>5833215
>>5833590
>Retreat

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>>5834356
You cannot retreat, not without learning Sparrow-2's secrets first. Neither can you hold out here for long, even with the Armitage for back-up. That leaves only one option. You hail the Armitage and soon are greeted by its commander's thin smile.

"Commander Jean-Pierre, the Bowyer-class destroyer is disabled. Can you keep the patrols busy while we sweep through it? It would take far too long for the Armitage to rendezvous with our current position in the inner system anyway. We will fall back with you later."

The corners of Jean-Pierre's lips fall ever so slightly as his mind processes the request. Just as quickly they return to their original position, "Understood. We will do what we can. Armitage over and out." Suddenly, his ship lights up like a shooting star on your thermals and starts burning towards the other gas giant in the system. Half an hour later, several new contacts follow his wake.

That was easier than you thought. Now onto the salvage. First, drones are dispatched from your ship to rescue any escaped crewmen. Even if they are Liberation Front agents, firing on helpless lifepods still tastes like rotten nutrimoss. Then, a platoon of crack marines fly out on an armored shuttle to secure Sparrow-2. A second trip brings some particularly brave engineers over to help dismantle all that is actually bolted down. In the meantime, repair teams are sent back to the engines and up to Turret-1 to patch up whatever they can. You have a feeling you will need to squeeze all the speed and firepower out of the Skyline to escape this system. After assigning everyone to their work, you wander down to the small hangar to give the turncoats a warm welcome.

As it turns out, these are not Liberation Front, they are the original officers of the Banshee, as the destroyer's called, before a mutiny almost sent them out the airlock. Apparently Martha Rockcliffe, the ringleader, thought keeping them hostage instead would deter other Directorate vessels from firing. She must have forgotten to tell you this before her Indian charge. During the confusion of battle, these prisoners managed to break out and sabotage the engine, giving your guns a chance to lock on and destroy the vessel. Despite your marines' confirmation of their accounts, Silas insists on keeping them separately in the holding cells, "just to be safe." Their leader, a gruffy lieutenant in his mid-40s, reluctantly relents, unwilling to risk unfavorable remarks in the after action report.

In the end, your men are unable to capture any LibFront agents from the wreck. The fanatics have made sure to depressurise the whole ship from stern to bow first. Thankfully, they overlooked the nav-computer's backup drive, which are now being decrypted by your best techies. Some supplies and other odds and ends were also brought back, before several judiciously placed fusion charges turn the Banshee into so much spacedust. That ought to let the Armitage know you have completed your job.

>>5834422
With some, 43% to be precise, of your thrust restored, you start to limp out of the star's gravity well. One of the contacts chasing the Armitage has broken off and is now plotting to intercept you.

What are your orders, Commander? Roll 2 1d100 for good luck.
>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange
>Lower your speed, sucker the fool in before opening with all you've got
>Bypass the engine safeties, you have no time to waste. The chaser batteries should keep them away for now.
>Write-in

Rolled 19, 83 = 102 (2d100)

>>5834424
>Lower your speed, sucker the fool in before opening with all you've got

Rolled 45, 86 = 131 (2d100)

>>5834424
>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange

>>5834424
>>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange

Rolled 94, 2 = 96 (2d100)

>>5834424
>>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange

Don't need to kill them, just make them fuck off.

Rolled 65, 51 = 116 (2d100)

>>5834424
>>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange

>>5834424
>Lower your speed, sucker the fool in before opening with all you've got

>>5834424
>Turn to your broadside and keep a constant stream of railgun slugs heading downrange

>>5834424
>Lower your speed, sucker the fool in before opening with all you've got

>>5834612
>>5834634
>>5834724
>>5834829
>>5834916
>Harassing fire
>>5835000
>>5834477
>>5834856
>Ambush
Roll: 86 vs. DC 60 - Major success

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>>5835960
Not all Qyngurs are bloodthirsty insects. At least not this one. No, your quarry is worse, you can tell. Calculated. Efficient. Audaciously lucky. Even glory hounds would baulk at the impressive barrage of 12" slugs carefully calculated to force chasing vessels off course. And yet this one frigate is still doggedly pursuing your vessels, taking every little gain he can get. Perhaps you should avoid these trade lanes in the future. But before future comes you must get out of this system first.

The Armitage seems to be faring much better in its retreat. Its lighter but more numerous railguns can cover a much wider arc, and the nimble engines can even occasionally reverse course for a feint on any overconfident pursuer. So far two of their numbers have run afoul of this trap, and the rest are now warily opening their distance. As you contemplate a similar surprise, over the intercom the beginning of an excited yell was abruptly cut off. Not again. Elysium re-opens the channel, "U-hh, I'm sorry Commander. It won't happen again." It better not. "My report... Oh yes, we scored a direct hit on Nightingale-1. It is now breaking off." Finally.

You were allowed to retreat the rest of the way unmolested. Before you power up the jump drive, a final message arrives from the Armitage, "Good work Commander Thornton. Rendezvous with me in the L-5 point of Beta Coriolanus 8 days from now for transfer of package. Over and out." Command better pays well for this nav-computer, since you are actually worse off from this whole encounter. The meager loot from the Banshee is definitely not enough to cover just the ammo expended alone, much less all the damage you have taken. The only bright side is that the men no longer salute you out of mere formality. Some of the younger lads even look up to you with a mixture of awe and dread.

Silas privately offers you some offensively bland beer soon after disengagement. "Shouldn't have kept my private cellar so close to the engines. Thought the hot dry air would be good for the wine." Johnson laughs, "Consider it your little libation to the void. A spacer would do well to not forget what a drunken whore she can be." That's the first time you have heard him curse. Seems like not just the rank and file trust you more.

Once the victory haze passed, you now wake up to a mountain of clean-up. The Vanilla has taken considerable damage, and 8 days would only be enough for some quick patches.

You can choose more than 1 option, but remember that prioritising everything is the same as prioritising nothing.
>Get the engine back up to almost full working order
>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1
>Improvise additional Point Defense weaponry
>Fabricate some extra mines and missiles, just in case
>Write-in

>>5835962
>>Get the engine back up to almost full working order

>>5835962
>>Get the engine back up to almost full working order
>>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1

>>5835962
>>>Get the engine back up to almost full working order
>>>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1


Most urgent priorities.

>>5835962
>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1

>>5835962
>Get the engine back up to almost full working order
>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1

>>5835962
>Get the engine back up to almost full working order
>Replace the broken autoloader in Turret-1

>>5835962
>Get the engine back up to almost full working order

>>5836123
+1

>>5836123
>>5836263
>>5836448
>>5836530
>>5837270
>Engines and guns
>>5836120
>>5836990
>Engines
>>5836290
>Guns
>>5837270
Next time please link to my post with greentext so I can more easily track all the votes.

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>>5837689
Beta Coriolanus. You were about to curse Jean-Pierre for the vague instructions when you realise there is only one planet in the system, a lonely ice giant lazily circling the primary. The unassuming asteroid cluster around its L-5 point, upon more direct scans, yields its terrible secrets: nearly a dozen missile batteries ringed by several layers of mines. At the heart of this formation lies a single artificial contact. The Armitage. Your comms officer quickly perform a handshake protocol, and shortly after, a narrow slice of the defensive donut is deactivated (when was the last time you have fresh baked bread, anyway?). If anything goes wrong, you doubt your chances of leaving the place still pulsing. All weapons are left on standby regardless, at the very least you will not die surprised.

The transfer went more smoothly than you have expected. Unfortunately, Front idiots still had the common sense of not inputing their final destination into the nav-computer ahead of time, so your own officers could offer little more than tantalising leads. Jean-Pierre goes live again, "Everything checks out. Take this cheque, Commander. Consider it your 'hazard pay.'" Soft chime from your tablet. A payment slip from the, Greater Centauri Mutual Aid Association for War Orphans and Widows? Your eyes wander down to the amount. Three hundred thousand credits!? That's nearly twice as much as all the loot from the past two months. This must be a joke, but somehow everything checks out. But something about Jean-Pierre's mannerisms do not seem quite right... A sudden revelation. You feel short of breath, suffocating, smothered. As if you had never turned the ventilation back on again. No. The choking dark will not take you. All systems to orange readiness.

As if predicting your move, a cough. A man attired in civilian clothing appears on screen, "Don't bother, Commander Thornton. I may be ruthless, but I am not a student of de Sade. Now let us get back to business. I may have another contract already drafted. And no. You cannot know its terms before agreeing." Johnson holds you steady while you catch your breath. Silas conveniently blocks most of the camera while looking for some trinkets. You appreciate their support, futile though it may be. Even if you are dead, this man will not take no for an answer.

"Thank you. This way I, Commander Jean-Pierre de Tassigny of His Directorship's Navy, do not have to exercise the power invested in me to draft your ship on the principle of Eminent Domain." In the background, Commander Jean-Pierre de Tassigny of His Directorship's Navy stares with killing intent. "Now listen closely. It displeases me to hand this task to a privateer, but you shall lead the raid on a Qyngur research facility. The light cruiser Armitage and the frigate Richardstown will provide support."

>>5837693
After glancing at some scan reports, he continues, "I see you have patched up your engines and guns. That should do us well. We can't exactly afford to dally around for too long without heavier protection." He chuckles at his own joke.

"Oh it seems that I may have forgotten to fill out Naval Command's obligations in this contract. What do you think will be appropriate, Commander Thornton?" Behind your back, you anxiously fiddle with a 1d100, dropping it three times. Somehow you feel less lucky than usual.
>"I could really use another half million credits."
>"I have heard some good things about the new destroyers that just got delivered."
>"Perhaps I will do this for free, entirely out of a sense of patriotic duty, of course."
>"Hold on. The voices in my head are telling me something."

Roll a 1d100 in your post. I will take the lowest of first three

A quick clarification
>Last option is for your own write-in
I notice an influx of new posters recently. So once again, I'm asking for your criticisms, suggestions, and recommendations. This is my first attempt at creative writing, after all.

Rolled 92 (1d100)

>>5837694
>"Hold on. The voices in my head are telling me something."
Sparrow-2. I want it. Fully stocked, decked out, and ready to go.

>>5837700
It's good. I like it.

>>5837736
Or a Capital-class ship. Or whatever the largest ship size that is currently being made in this universe.

>>5837736
Sorry Commander, not even I can gather the new addition to Zeta Dantalion-II's dust ring back into the Banshee, or Sparrow-2 as her designation goes.
You already blew up the ship to prevent its capture in >>5834422. You couldn't exactly tow a wreck out of system while being chased by enemy destroyers.
>>5837754
As for this, I have no comment. Be careful what you wish for. Not all capitals are made equal, and the ones currently in His Directorship's service decidedly less so.
Also thanks a lot for the vote of confidence!

>>5837824
Thanks for the clarification. It was the faintest and briefest of hopes Commander Jean-Pierre was able to secure the wreckage after our escape from the system.

A Capital ship is a symbol more than anything.

>>5837824
What's the status of our crew? Amount, talent, hobbies, demeanor, how many more can we obtain/pay, things of that nature?

I want to see if we can have Naval Command provide highly trained military officers, soldiers, and personnel (current, retired, finished with their contract) volunteer to join our crew along with the capital ship or whatever biggest ship they are willing to give us.

Rolled 63 (1d100)

>>5837694
>"I have heard some good things about the new destroyers that just got delivered."

While the men are busy repairing the vessel after that close shave at Zeta Dantalion, you decide to take stock of the crew situation before writing the after-action report. Generally Johnson has been taking care of these, but this one time you cannot let anyone else spoil your first victory. Unfortunately, Silas' scheme of isolating you from the rest of the crew has been a tad bit too effective. In that case, then, it is the culprit who must compensate for the damage.

“The men? Well, I say they could be better. But they could also be worse.” What sort of non-answer is that? You have to press the issue, “Lieutenant Commander O'Keefe, I need your input for the After Action Report. Once again, is there any cause for concern among the men?” You conspiratorily lower the tone, “Or maybe the officers?”

“Well, if you really want to know then go ask the spacers themselves. I'm busy here, can't you see?” You cannot believe it. How quickly Silas drops the act once you agree to take over the company. Well, if you want something done right... “Actually, don't do it, you'll just make a fool out of yourself. Here, I'll just give the gist of it. Notebook ready?”

Silas clears his throat a couple time, “So, first thing first. I expect much less out of this lot.” Now that's something interesting. “As you know, most senior officers under your old man went down with him. Only Moynihan, Goldsmith, and me are left." He snaps himself out of remembrance, "What's worse, much of the rank-and-file also left once we docked with Lighton. Rumours of the new capt', you, being a Coreite, a landlubber, and worst of all, a woman didn't exactly help on that front.” You roll your eyes in exasperation.

He ignores you and continues ranting, “So I had to scrounge the bottom of the beer barrel for warm bodies. Bars, whorehouses, gambling dens, hospices. I even have to poach civvie whops from merchanteers." There are civvies on this ship, is that legal? “The officers are better, at least. I know Johnson from the Second Kaskandir Offensive, he's reliable. The rest are fresh off academy. Lucky for us, only one has cracked so far.” He shrugs, "But that gunnery kid, Elysium, he does have a certain flair. May even be better than his late uncle in time, though he needs some tough love first.”

You are furiously noting everything down. “Got any other questions, or can I go back to my work now?” You nod, “Thank you for the report. Dismissed.”

No need to vote on this one. I was just answering >>5837852 question.

Rolled 45 (1d100)

>>5837694
>>"I could really use another half million credits."

>>5837693
>"I have heard some good things about the new destroyers that just got delivered."

Become a wolfpack.

>>5837694
>"I could really use another half million credits."

>>5837700
Combat was good, I'd like to to see more of the world and the political situation too.

>>5837694
>"I have heard some good things about the new destroyers that just got delivered."

>>5837694
>"I could really use another half million credits."
Money can buy many things like upgrading our boat

>>5838064
>>5838356
>>5838528
>Destroyers
>>5838612
>>5838467
>>5838278
>Credits
I will count >>5837736 as a tiebreaker in favour of
>Destroyers
Roll: 17 vs. DC 30 - Minor Failure don't think I didn't see that deleted post
I'm currently migrating all my notes to a new organiser so I won't be updating as frequently for a few days. Fuck Zim for deleting all my stuff, thank god I have a backup of everything so only lost the last couple posts

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>>5840035
Now that is an interesting offer. The warlord in you wants to ask for a capital-class vessel, a truly worthy flagship to lead your company from. But realistically, void's chance the Directorate would so easily relinquish one of its precious fleet anchors. Asking for even more credits is also tempting, but what for? A lowly privateer like you has rather limited access to domestically produced equipment anyhow, and your busy schedule can hardly wait for imports to clear customs. Those Jaguar-class destroyers recently outfitted and sold to the Navy, however... They should already be running trials in Lighton by now.

“His Directorship recently acquired some modern destroyers, a little bird told me.” Little bird here being the Lighton Digest All Hours, the largest Liteian news channel. “Perhaps I could help him put some of them to good use.” You don't like licking boots and neither do most spacers, but certain elements of the Navy have shown more loyalty than the Directorate deserves.

“Oh yes, the Jaguars, eagerly sold off by the sons of Bolivar to raise cash for the coming war with the Al-Saudites. You know, those caudillos can certainly put up a good fight, if only they think more about killing their enemies than lining their own pockets. Every single one of these destroyers had been bled out from the defense force of their ‘brothers’. Thankfully, here in Liteia we are much more united in our struggle against the xenos, so to speak. We certainly must be so, yes Captain?” The comparison between the caudillo's sales and your own request is obvious, but is he being sincere or ironic? Either way this whole conversation will surface again in the future, whether you like it or not.

The damage already done, you can only prevent him from learning too much more, “We privateers are the Director's instruments too, you know.” The glint in the agent's eyes softens, like a cat already bored from chasing down a not-too-crafty mouse. “Oh, yes, indeed. Go to Dock 17-A on your return to Lighton. I hope what awaits you there will be to your liking, Commander." With a final send-off, "If there is nothing more, I will leave you and Commander de Tassigny to discuss the upcoming operation,” the cat wanders off-screen.

Jean-Pierre appears again, “I will come over to your ship, Commander, if you agree.” You nod weakly. “I'm sorry... for not assisting you more directly back in Zeta Dantalion." Even apologies must be evasive in that man's presence. Oh Sylvie, what have you gotten yourself into now? Silas, at least, is more blunt, “Naval Intelligence are vipers like that. You did well, boss." Maybe that honesty's why he never made it in the Navy.

>>5840039
A few moments later, Jean-Pierre is wargaming in your planning room. He rolls three 1d100 to demonstrate his proposals.
>"We all burn in bright and fast, leaving no time for the defenders to react" (DC 75, more time after battle)
>"Your guns can suppress the station while we keep their light forces at bay." (DC 60, safest option)
>"You and the Richardson raid their supply convoy, drawing out the defenders. Meanwhile, I can sneak in and secure the station" (DC 50, more loot, less time after battle)
>"Do you have any plans of your own?" (write-in, I will decide DC)

Thank you everyone for your feedback!
>>5838467
Don't worry there will definitely be more politicking once we return from this run. I want to get into the action immediately rather than just dumping lore at the beginning, but after this there will definitely be more politics.
Also for >>5840035 I took into account our normal +7 charisma bonus when writing so it is only a minor failure, but I forgot to change the correct DC in the post to 23.

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>5840040
>>"Your guns can suppress the station while we keep their light forces at bay." (DC 60, safest option)

Rolled 9 (1d100)

>>5840040
>"We all burn in bright and fast, leaving no time for the defenders to react" (DC 75, more time after battle)

Rolled 58 (1d100)

>>5840040
>>"You and the Richardson raid their supply convoy, drawing out the defenders. Meanwhile, I can sneak in and secure the station" (DC 50, more loot, less time after battle)

LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOT

Rolled 50 (1d100)

>>5840040
>>"You and the Richardson raid their supply convoy, drawing out the defenders. Meanwhile, I can sneak in and secure the station" (DC 50, more loot, less time after battle)

>>5840040
>>"You and the Richardson raid their supply convoy, drawing out the defenders. Meanwhile, I can sneak in and secure the station" (DC 50, more loot, less time after battle)

>>5840040
>"You and the Richardson raid their supply convoy, drawing out the defenders. Meanwhile, I can sneak in and secure the station" (DC 50, more loot, less time after battle)

>>5840040
>>"We all burn in bright and fast, leaving no time for the defenders to react" (DC 75, more time after battle)

>>5840189
>Barrage
>>5840219
>>5841503
>Assault
>>5840408
>>5840515
>>5840759
>>5841503
>Distract
Roll: 58 vs. DC 50. Minor Success

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>>5842553
You are a raider. Given the choice, of course you will raid. Even better, having a frigate screen should cover the Vanilla Skyline's main weakness: coordinated destroyer attacks. The only question left is whether Jean-Pierre is as much of a natural at sneaking as he claims. Probably yes, seeing he is still alive in spite of his company. The plan definitely holds pressure, so why is your stomach tied in knots? That man, it must be that man. You quietly seethe. “We privateers are the Director's instruments too!" Only an idle observation, and already you were excusing yourself as if it was the final verdict. He caught you off-guard, next time won't be so easy.

Moynihan dissipates your frustration, “Contact confirmed. Moving through corridor Charlie. 4 cruiser-sized and 2 destroyer-sized signatures. Over.” Springing into action, you quickly tightbeam the information to the Richardson. You cannot change the past, but the same cannot be said for the present. As the bridge crew scramble into combat positions, you review the drafted tactical plans. The escort details seem about right, the Qyngur wanted to avoid attention. However, so many freighters for such a small outpost?

“2 Albatross destroyers,” Bulky, efficient but rather sluggish. “3 Ox freighters," Only three? “And 1 Komodo heavy cruiser.” Well-armed and well-protected, this is getting interesting. Moynihan does not stop, “Anomalous energy signature detected in one of the Ox's holds. Analysing..." You already knew the answer even before he confirms it, “Most likely carrier conversion.” This isn't a resupply mission, it's an honest-to-God warhive. At least outside of the Komodo, the rest are relatively soft targets

Well, if you retreat now the next meeting with that agent will not be so cordial. You immediately call for a conference. Lieutenant Commander Roquefort, captain of the Richardson, speaks first, “This isn't completely surprising. Our sister ship the Thomasville has reported greater build-up in this region after your spectacular performance at Dantalion.” Johnson pounces on his words, “And you do not think this is important enough to bring up during planning?” Roquefort is visibly worried, “That is not the biggest problem. If the Qyngurs brazenly dispatch warships like that, it would certainly compromise the secrecy of the...” Moynihan barges in through the intercom, “Ma'am, two new contacts just jumped into the system. Burning hot for the convoy.” Reinforcements. “Friendly vessels, a pair of Yonaoshi-class light cruisers. Should we hail?” For you.

Now it is Silas' turn, “That's gotta be the Yushi and Shishi. My old buddy Ienaga's company. Heard he's been in the red recently, never figured it was so bad, having to take this fight.” Blood drained from his face as he realised what they have just done, “They cannot be allowed to leave, can they?” Roquefort nods, “Naval Command won't prosecute anyone for what happens today.”

>>5842562
But will they protect you from other privateers? There are so many ways a person can go missing once they have broken trust on the frontier. There must be something else you can do. You think out loud, “But what if we hail them normally? As long as the Qyngurs were smart enough to wipe their nav-computers, Jean-Pierre would not be compromised.” Roquefort shakes his head, “I'm under your command for this operation. Do what you will, Commander Thornton, but know that I would rather strangle my own mother and get hanged than cross Naval Intelligence. At least that way my father gets to keep his pulse.” Silas looks at you expectantly, too proud to make his own case. The coming struggle between the Yonaoshi and the warhive momentarily seems so distant, another world darkly seen. Do you dare knock on its door?

From your hidden landing on a small moon, you retain the element of surprise. Roll three 1d100 to soothe your conscience.
>Coordinate with Ienaga to trap the Qyngurs in a pincer manoeuvre. (best tactic, but gives up all loot from the research station)
>Rendezvous with Ienaga, but order a scan to locate his comms relay, just in case (greater flexibility, greater risk)
>Wait for Ienaga to exhaust himself on the warhive and retreat, then swoop in to destroy any remnants. (Ienaga might not be able to escape)
>Write-in

Rolled 56 (1d100)

>>5842564
>>Rendezvous with Ienaga, but order a scan to locate his comms relay, just in case (greater flexibility, greater risk)

Rolled 57 (1d100)

>>5842564
>Rendezvous with Ienaga, but order a scan to locate his comms relay, just in case (greater flexibility, greater risk)

Ain't giving up this haul for anything.

Rolled 55 (1d100)

>>5842564
>>Rendezvous with Ienaga, but order a scan to locate his comms relay, just in case (greater flexibility, greater risk)

>>5842564
>>Rendezvous with Ienaga, but order a scan to locate his comms relay, just in case (greater flexibility, greater risk)
We should get a bonus for those weird rolls lol

>>5842564
>Coordinate with Ienaga to trap the Qyngurs in a pincer manoeuvre. (best tactic, but gives up all loot from the research station)

>>5842604
Stop being a nigger.

>>5842564
>>Wait for Ienaga to exhaust himself on the warhive and retreat, then swoop in to destroy any remnants. (Ienaga might not be able to escape)

>>5843605
>Pincer
>>5843935
>Wait
>>5842604
>>5842828
>>5842881
>>5843366
>Regroup
Roll: 55 56 57 vs. DC 50-4=46: Minor Success. (half charisma bonus since we're trying to fool ourselves)

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>>5843940
No matter how much you rehearse the most convincing arguments for betraying Ienaga, they always sound hollow. Nonetheless, you must come to terms with the possibility, your life depends on it. Perhaps that necessity is the sole trump card you instinct holds over your own conscience. You simply are not the kind of person who would rather die faithful. Securing a tightbeam line to the Richardson, you personally input the message, “Once engaged, scan the Yushi and Shishi. Focus on locating their q-pulse comms relay. Over.” Roquefort does not respond, standard tactics for plausible deniability. But you know his kind all too well. Sometimes you wonder whether Jean-Pierre hugs a plasma carbine while sleeping. Or maybe he is the reason why Silas felt the need to do just that back on the Hermes. With all preparation complete, you turn to your comms officer, “Hail the Yushi, we have to work together to defeat this warhive.” A clueless Silas sighs in relief.

A moment later, a man in his late-50s answers the hail. Bandana wrapped around his head, two nanoblades hanging prominently from his belt, the afterlife of memories. He intently scrutinises you for a moment, before asking in accented Trade English, “Are you Raimondo's daughter? You two definitely looked similar.” You smile faintly, ignoring the pain from the father-sized hole in your heart. Are you two even related? The question has to wait, “Yes, but I do not bear his name. Call me Thornton. Now can we skip the pleasantries, Ienaga? You will not win against that warhive alone.”

“I see. My condolences, nonetheless. Yes, you are right, we should work together.” He contemplates the active sensors for a moment, “Your ship is in the perfect position, and it has not yet been detected. You can flank that converted carrier while we keep the escorts busy." That will not do, “No, better I regroup with your force once the convoy passes this little rock. We have intercepted their navarch bleating for reinforcements. I cannot risk being pincered myself like back at Dantalion.”

Ienaga's eyebrows rise at the name, “So you destroyed that... Never mind, we shall herd these Oxen away from you then, Captain Thorton. Over and out.” Finally, someone calls you captain. The Yushi and Shishi change course to swing closer to the planetoid on which you are hiding. The enemy captain on the Komodo wisely conserve his ammo, only occasionally firing a few ranging shots. In contrast, all the point defense guns on the destroyer escorts are flashing red hot, intercepting salvo after salvo of missiles. Seems like Ienaga has replaced much of the Yonaoshi's torpedo armaments in favour of more tactically flexible missiles. Eventually, one of them manages to slip under Albatross-1's shield bubble and burst, powering a laser array which shears the bow clean off. Both destroyer escorts promptly retreat to the back of the formation, leaving Komodo-1 exposed.

>>5843943
Right on cue, the Richardson lifts up from the surface, shortly followed by your own Vanilla Skyline. Your railguns point squarely at the greatest threat, the heavy cruiser Komodo-1, now separated from its formation. Time to let shine. Slug after slug cracks on the enemy shield. Their navarch, seemingly made of less stern stuff than the last task force's, accelerate his own ship while slowing down the rest of the formation. With not a small hint of frustration, Elysium reports, “Ox-2 is now blocking our line of sight. Even if we disable the freighter, its vast bulk still offers decent cover." Before you can respond, Ienaga comes in, “The Shishi is under fire from that heavy cruiser, we will have to tighten the screen.” You would thank the Qyngur navarch if you can for playing straight into your hand like this, “As long as you keep those damn destroyers away, do whatever you want." A soft chime on your comms notify you of the Richardson's latest reports. The target areas on both Yonaoshis have been painted red, even as they continue to harass the escort destroyers.

What will be Elysium's target, Commander?.
>Fire on Ox-2, maybe its captain is not so happy about being used as a shield like that.
>Target the converted carrier Ox-3, you do not want to be harassed by fighters for once you close in.
>Prepare the torpedoes, now's the perfect chance to strike against Yonaoshi-1 and Yonaoshi-2.
>Write-in

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>>5843605

>>5843945
>>Target the converted carrier Ox-3, you do not want to be harassed by fighters for once you close in.

>>5843946
You had three choices:
1. Apologize
2. Stop acting like a nigger
3. Continue acting like a nigger

You chose 3.

https://archived.moe/qst/thread/5804177
>CTRL+F 'xm8EBiQV'

>>5843943
>Fire on Ox-2, maybe its captain is not so happy about being used as a shield like that.

>>5843945
>Target the converted carrier Ox-3, you do not want to be harassed by fighters for once you close in.

Take out their strikecraft, battle becomes easier..

>>5843945
>Target the converted carrier Ox-3, you do not want to be harassed by fighters for once you close in.

>>5843945
>Prepare the torpedoes, now's the perfect chance to strike against Yonaoshi-1 and Yonaoshi-2.

>>5843945
>Target the converted carrier Ox-3, you do not want to be harassed by fighters for once you close in.

>>5844160
>Ox-2
>>5844596
>Yonaoshi
>>5844001
>>5844345
>>5844409
>>5845269
>Ox-3
I plan to go on vacation at the end of this week. The thread will most likely be archived by the time I return

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>>5846308
Ox-3, the converted carrier, has steadily fell behind and is now perilously close to your advancing formation. Albatross-2 is attempting to screen the lumbering whale as best it can; still, the Richardson has already managed several hits in edgewise on its exposed solar sails. The Komodo is unfortunately more successful at keeping Ienaga's ship from overwhelming the rest of the convoy. Every time the Yushi or Shishi tries to leave the blind spot created by Ox-2, a hail of shells would quickly force them back in. Neither is closing in to the freighter an option with Albatross-1 still lurking with most of its torpedoes intact. Ienaga must be swearing up and down in his bridge now over his decision to swap out the torpedoes. His Yonaoshis have little direct anti-ship armament outside of their mostly expended missiles, they can stall, but not win, in a close-quarters gift exchange.

Although scans have turned up only a handful of high-energy signatures characteristic of bomber drones, you decide to take no chances and order the full wrath of the Skyline's anti-ship batteries upon the poor former freighter. The whole bridge around you vibrates in staccatos from the recoil of straddling railguns. The halting rhythm rapidly turns into a smooth glissando as your railguns hone on target. Just as quickly, the jabs ended, throwing your hastily choreographed dance off balance. As you recover from the embarrassing stumble, Elysium reports, in as calm a tone as he could manage, “Ox-3 disabled, its drones are pulling together for a last suicide run. PD on standby.” There is no need. The Yushi and Shishi swat every single fly heading your way with methodical flair.

Before you can turn your attention to the other targets however, Moynihan reports new contacts fresh out of warp. At last, the task force guarding the research station is coming out to play. One Marlin, two Albatrosses, hopefully no surprises. Jean-Pierre better be quick, even with the Yonaoshis' support, you doubt you can keep these newcomers pinned down for long. More worryingly, however, is Ienaga's tightbeam, “Fast response from enemy task force. Hidden base nearby?”

With your engine in its current state, you have to make a decision now.
>Squeeze every last drop of acceleration, you must destroy this convoy before the task force can rescue them. (may damage the engines)
>Cripple the engines on Ox-2, disengage and shadow the task force (Ienaga won't be happy)
>Ask Ienaga to harry the reinforcements while you and the Richardson continues the chase (buys more time, but unlikely to disable any enemy ships)
>Write-in

>>5846335
>Cripple the engines on Ox-2, disengage and shadow the task force (Ienaga won't be happy)

>>5846335
>>Squeeze every last drop of acceleration, you must destroy this convoy before the task force can rescue them. (may damage the engines)

>>5846335
>Squeeze every last drop of acceleration, you must destroy this convoy before the task force can rescue them. (may damage the engines)

>>5846335
>Cripple the engines on Ox-2, disengage and shadow the task force (Ienaga won't be happy)
A damaged ship is better than no loot

>>5846335
>>Squeeze every last drop of acceleration, you must destroy this convoy before the task force can rescue them. (may damage the engines)

>>5846335
>>Cripple the engines on Ox-2, disengage and shadow the task force (Ienaga won't be happy)

>>5846335
>Cripple the engines on Ox-2, disengage and shadow the task force (Ienaga won't be happy)

>>5846693
>>5846441
>>5846428
>Defeat in detail
>>5846386
>>5846599
>>5846795
>>5847051
>Skirmish

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>>5848727
“Escape pods firing out from Albatross-3. They are evacuating.” Moynihan reports in monotone. Since this pursuit could hardly be part of the Komodo's plan, you wonder what has gotten into the Marlin's navarch. Even if the combined Qyngur force is fast enough to overtake you, like hell Ienaga would allow any torpedo-boats near your ship. Their force, in contrast, seemed to not handle 12 inch shells very well, as the survivors of Albatross-3 could no doubt tell. Merely minutes earlier it was trying to close the gap, only to get pinned down by crossfire from the Richardson and Yushi. Given the choice between a full heavy railgun broadside and a couple torpedoes, its captain elected to abandon ship. As Moynihan will add in the after-action report, less than a third of its crew managed to get out in time.

In the distance, Ox-1 and Ox-2 are helplessly floating to the edge of the system, occasionally jerked by a towing cable from the damaged Albatross-1. Without engines, there is no chance they can warp away. You can see now why the Qyngur navarch decided to pursue your retreating force. He cannot repair the vulnerable freighters with you still lurking in the system. Talk about getting caught between a heavy railgun shell and a fusion torpedo. Annoyed by the Komodo's pitiable salvos knocking on your shield, you decide to target the heavy cruiser next.

Three salvos were all it took to finally bring down Komodo-1's shield. Another two to shut down most of its weapons. Punching through the layers upon layers of ablative armor wrapped around the core of the ship will be much more daunting, however. The enemy commander, whoever it is, orders the formation back. Perhaps he finally realises the futility of the chase. A more likely explanation is the distress call your warp comms just picked up, broadcasted from the same position as the research station. What the hell is happening over there?

With Jean-Pierre still maintaining radio silence for some reason, you are on your own. You decide to try out the ivory dice set he gave you as an apology. Somehow your fates feel as though bound together as the three 2d100 hits the table
>A sense of unease. Convince Ienaga to keep watch over the remnants of the enemy while you investigate the call. (full charisma bonus applied)
>A sense of trust. Continue to harass the Qyngur convoy, Jean-Pierre has his job and you yours.
>A sense of confidence. Charge the retreating enemy, you must knock out this force before you can reinforce Jean-Pierre (major success required to keep Ienaga out of this)

Rolled 6, 29 = 35 (2d100)

>>5848733
>>A sense of unease. Convince Ienaga to keep watch over the remnants of the enemy while you investigate the call. (full charisma bonus applied)

Something has gone tits up if the station got a broadcast out.

Rolled 86, 5 = 91 (2d100)

>>5848733
>A sense of confidence. Charge the retreating enemy, you must knock out this force before you can reinforce Jean-Pierre (major success required to keep Ienaga out of this)

Rolled 45, 83 = 128 (2d100)

>>5848733
>A sense of unease. Convince Ienaga to keep watch over the remnants of the enemy while you investigate the call. (full charisma bonus applied)

File: sylvie.jpg (479 KB, 1920x2711)

479 KB JPG

>>5848733
>A sense of trust. Continue to harass the Qyngur convoy, Jean-Pierre has his job and you yours.
What does OP think of this pic for the Captain?

Rolled 100, 86 = 186 (2d100)

>>5848733
>A sense of unease. Convince Ienaga to keep watch over the remnants of the enemy while you investigate the call. (full charisma bonus applied)

>>5848733
>A sense of unease. Convince Ienaga to keep watch over the remnants of the enemy while you investigate the call. (full charisma bonus applied)

>>5849389
Damn

>>5848733
>>A sense of trust. Continue to harass the Qyngur convoy, Jean-Pierre has his job and you yours.

>>5848754
>Confidence
>>5850329
>>5849247
>Trust
>>5848747
>>5849095
>>5849389
>>5849907
>Unease
Roll: 100 vs. DC 55 - 7 = 48. Critical Success for you.
Roll: 86 vs. DC 40. Great Success for Jean-Pierre.
>>5849247
Tbdesu, I haven't thought a lot about how Sylvie looks, since I mostly write through her eyes. With that in mind I will probably feel a bit thrown off, the same way people back then thought cameras were capturing a part of their souls. But maybe that's just my schizophrenia, I have always avoided eye contact out of fear for what other people may see in me, and I in theirs.

>>5850436
This is not good. Even now the distress call is bouncing from warp relay to warp relay throughout the whole region. Without any sender information attached, however, you can hold out hope that most fringe patrols out here would just ignore it. If you act fast enough, you will already be long gone by the time the message reaches any authority with the clearance to know what an empty spot orbiting M-131-5 contains. But first, you must somehow keep the convoy remnants contained to this system. You cannot have any distractions while you clear out the base.

Ienaga frowns once he heard your proposal, “Are you certain, Captain Thorton? We should push our advantage here without delay. Whatever is happening next door can wait, I'm sure.” You send him the Richardson's earlier sensor logs, showing the convoy's projected flight path before Ienaga's appearance, “We have been tracking this little militarised convoy for some time now. My navigation officer had concluded that there's a 70% chance they are going to pass by M-131, the source of this mysterious distress call. That was until...” Catch your own tongue. Bite your lips slightly. Let him work out the implications. He understands. Look away for a moment. Shift your legs. You just accuse a good man. He forgives your indiscretion and apologises, “I'm s...” Sorry, but you must cut him off. Awkwardly change the subject, “Uhm, distance also matches up with the time it took for the reinforcements to show up.” Fiddle the ivory dices with your finger. Just a moment to think, please. Now deliver the final blow, “There is something there, but there may be nothing soon, if we don't move in quick.” Distract him from that last ‘we’ with a slight toss of the head. “Had I known, I would not have interfered with your hunt. Please accept my apology, Captain Thornton." He bows deeply. Cast your eye down as well. A slight curl of the lip to seal the deal. Ienaga returns the smile before cutting off.

File: what_isnt_the_base.jpg (100 KB, 704x438)

100 KB JPG

>>5850437
You push the Vanilla Skyline as fast as she goes. The Yushi and Shishi's silhouettes retreat into the distance until their engine plumes are but small dots of light. That single Marlin certainly had its job cut out screening the convoy from two Yonaoshis. Roquefort got out of gravwell and warped out first. You will follow once he has sent back the scouting report.

The fourth digit of your stopwatch has flickered on. You can wait no longer.

You aren't quite sure what to expect. Still this is worse than your half-formed guesses. The man stares at you icily, “Captain Thornton, I thought we have come to an understanding? Where are the Qyngurs you have lured away?” Your tablet screen lights on, somehow without chiming, “Tell him the truth. Roquefort already spilled everything.” If you get out of this, a certain Directorate frigate commander is going AWOL very soon. You match his gaze, “I have help. You do not. Not so far out here. Or do you really think your coward will stand up for you?” Only slightly off-balance. Still, in this silence everyone on both bridges can hear the bounces of your every dice. Another challenge, “As I have said, we privateers are loyal servants of the Directorate as well. But only as long as the Directorate is deserving of our support.” This is a dangerous gambit you are playing. Even if you cannot lie convincingly in his presence, there's no guarantee offering a grain of truth will work better. But then again, you are only following Jean-Pierre's advice.

His features soften, not in the way a cat tires of mouse, but rather one's wary respect when meeting its feline equal. And one day, perhaps friend. He does not smile, still there is certain mirth in his voice, “Very interesting, Commander Thornton. Very interesting, indeed.” He lowers his voice, “I will pretend to see nothing. And if a certain coward has something to say, he should say it now. Or else hold his peace. Permanently.” No reply. Peace it is then.

The convoy is still where you have left it. Ienaga only needs to know there's a freshly abandoned listening post over in M-131. With his help, you make short work of the remaining few escorts. Time to split the salvage.

How much should Ienaga get?
>Keep only what he kills, as is tradition. Not a lot, since your ship did most of the work.
>Half of the convoy. Keep him busy, hopefully by the time he's done Jean-Pierre has already picked the research station clean.
>More than his fair share, in exchange for you getting everything from the station.
>Write-in

>>5850438
>Write-in
Go through everything and decide based on what's available.
Necessities and good stuff? We keep.
Duplicates and garbage? Ienaga can have it.
Should buy Jean-Pierre some time as well sorting through everything. Who knows? Ienaga might still come out ahead.

>>5850438
>>Half of the convoy. Keep him busy, hopefully by the time he's done Jean-Pierre has already picked the research station clean.

>>5850438
>Half of the convoy. Keep him busy, hopefully by the time he's done Jean-Pierre has already picked the research station clean.

He should find it more then enough. No need to let him know of the gold mine we're sitting on.

>>5850438
>Half of the convoy. Keep him busy, hopefully by the time he's done Jean-Pierre has already picked the research station clean.

>>5850436
I find that a little strange when writing stories

>>5850438
>More than his fair share, in exchange for you getting everything from the station.
This is what we really want

>>5850450
Support

>>5850438
>Half of the convoy. Keep him busy, hopefully by the time he's done Jean-Pierre has already picked the research station clean.

>>5850867
>Majority
>>5850450
>Pick and choose Ienaga would most likely take offence to this btw since you cannot hide the salvage report from him without violating several unbroken codes.
>>5850501
>>5850524
>>5850662
>>5851330
>Half

File: scrapping.jpg (153 KB, 1065x618)

153 KB JPG

>>5852078
You know the rules, and so does Ienaga. Only Marlin-1, Albatross-1, and maybe Albatross-3 would go to him, not even one of the freighters. His calm front betrays his deep worries when the topic of salvage rights comes up. You quickly defuse the tense atmosphere, “Captain Ienaga, since the Yushi and Shishi have screened us from that final attack run by Ox-3's drones, you have the rightful claim to the whole hull's salvage. Is that alright?” His eyes beam at the suggestion, still he has to make sure, “But the ship was disabled by your guns.” You repeat the offer, “Yes, and? I have not taken out the drones.” Ienaga sighs, “I see. Thank you, Captain Thornton. I will not forget this.”

He considers his words carefully before continuing. “In return, you can take everything from the listening post if you want.” Ah, fair and square, then. Whatever the reason, Ienaga does not want to take half of the convoy without offering anything in return. You silently thank Silas for his insistence on splitting the station with Jean-Pierre ahead of time. Roquefort glares with insubordination when you dismiss him. Maybe the agent can be persuaded to share the frigate Richardson's patrol plans. For reference, of course.

Over on M-131, shuttles bus back and forth between the Armitage and the station. On their way out, they would carry high-value [redacted]. When going back in, they are packed with shot-out Qyngur sensor consoles. Repair drones are also hard at work littering the exterior with broken antennas and half-burned satellite dishes. When they are done, even Qyngur intelligence could be convinced the station here was never meant for research.

>>5852086
Naturally, most of the loot from the station was immediately classified, leaving you with only some fuel and generic metals for fab-feed. The two defending frigates were not, however, and your techie quickly combed through their wrecks. All in all, the haul has been considerable, even without counting the brand-new destroyer awaiting you back in Lighton. Even more valuable than the salvage was the near-complete convoy plan Goldsmith managed to scrape from a dying memory bank on one of the frigates. Seems like the captain of this one had been in touch with local pirates. Either really smart or really foolish, smuggling intel right under Qyngur counterespionage's olfactors like that.

Calling Ienaga again, you are prepared to continue this winning streak.
>"We should push the advantage without delay. There's this convoy carrying military supplies scheduled to depart shortly..." (immediately prepares for another raid)
>"Local Qyngur forces must be on high alarm by now. It is better if we meet again later to discuss future cooperation." (spends some time for proper field repairs)
>"Seems like there are Qyngur pirates in this region as well. Perhaps we can work something out with them?" (departs for hidden pirate base)
>"I will be returning to Liteia for some business, in the meantime my first officer Silas will work with your company" (hitchhike the Armitage back home to inspect the destroyer)
>Write-in

>>5852078
>spoiler
I meant *unspoken, not unbroken. Those codes are (un)fortunately not as immutable as they should be.
Also after this I will be going on vacation for the next week. When I return I will make a new thread.

>>5852087
>"I will be returning to Liteia for some business, in the meantime my first officer Silas will work with your company" (hitchhike the Armitage back home to inspect the destroyer)

>>5852088
Thanks for running and see you next time.

>>5852087
>>"Seems like there are Qyngur pirates in this region as well. Perhaps we can work something out with them?" (departs for hidden pirate base)

>>5852088
Thanks for running QM. Please choose a more eye catching OP image next time.

>>5852087
>"I will be returning to Liteia for some business, in the meantime my first officer Silas will work with your company" (hitchhike the Armitage back home to inspect the destroyer)

>>5852087
>"Seems like there are Qyngur pirates in this region as well. Perhaps we can work something out with them?" (departs for hidden pirate base)

>>5852087
>>>"Seems like there are Qyngur pirates in this region as well. Perhaps we can work something out with them?" (departs for hidden pirate base)

Chance to gain allies and do some repairs.

>>5852087
>"Seems like there are Qyngur pirates in this region as well. Perhaps we can work something out with them?" (departs for hidden pirate base)

>>5852087
>"Local Qyngur forces must be on high alarm by now. It is better if we meet again later to discuss future cooperation." (spends some time for proper field repairs)