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Just a bit of an experiment I decided to try. I've seen these done on other sites, no idea if there's a rule against it here. Anyway, this will be a Journal kept by my character as he plays the game. Think of it as a Text Let's play. I would love to hear opinions on this as I go, and what's more, I hope you guys enjoy reading this.



Jounral Entry 2450.1

My name is Sage. Well, no, it's really something with four clicks in it, and a wheezing sound. Or was it three clicks and a gasping sound? Gods, so hard to remember these days. I suppose I should start farther back than that, for those of you who've been living in the brush like I used to though.

A Long Time Ago, isn't that how all great tales begin? Regardless, way back in the day, humans, homo sapians lived on a tiny blue ball called Earth. Then some smart guy decided that it might be fun to hurl ourselves into space on explosions. Interestingly enough, that worked, and people launched themselves skyward by blowing stuff up. However, doing that took a lot of explosions, and the Earth was tiny, so it didn't have a lot of those, so some other smart guy later, like a hundred years or more, came up with another way to hurl people into space.

That was is Gravitics. It involves focused gravity energy...and I've lost the lot of you. Suffice it to say, it allowed mankind to leap farther than ever before, moving through space at speeds that make your head spin. More, a certain use of the engines cause holes in space to appear, allowing someone to leap across the void between stars in a few seconds, though outside days might pass thanks to relativity.

And so humanity, once confined on a little blue ball, leapt into space. Peace settled over the bulk of the species as the Federation, a bunch of big wigs, took over. How they formed you got me, but they held the reigns for a while. At least, until the issue of Human Rights came up. You see, slavery, like what we got out here in the sticks, well, back on Earth they got rid of it, and now they wanted us in the stars to get rid of it to.

That difference of opinion soon led to a war. First between the Feddies and the Outer Rim Alliance, ORAs for short. After a few companies started to get a bit too rich off that war, the Feddies tried to crack down on them, and soon had another opponent, as the Coalition, the Coals, took to be independents for free trade and what not.

Then comes the last player, and the most important to yours truly. The Syndicate. They were just a bunch of Pirates, Outlaws, and other such types, who came together with on goal. Kick the crud out of the law, and live free. That motto got a lot of dreams and idiots to flock to them. One such group were my ancestors, who became the plain dwellers on founding world of the Syndicate, Moscow Prime.

Those idiots decided to forsake the tech that brought them to the stars, to forgo the destiny that generations before had foisted upon them. Instead, they wanted to live as the ancients had lived. Mind, they were always arguing about how the ancients had lived. Some talked about massive stone temples, others of vast wandering tribes, and some even talked about houses in the far north made of snow, as if snow would make for a solid building material.

Into such trash, I was born. I don't remember much of those years, but I remember getting punished, a lot. Both for fighting to kill even when we were playing, and for being interested in the stars. When I came of Age, to take my own name, I burned the big wooden hole the primitive screw heads called a town hall, and ran off.

I made my way to the local port, it was a run of a few days, but I was determined to have the stars all for myself. I almost made it off world, when some guards from the main Syndicate found me, Original Syn, as they're called. Luckily, rather than shoot me, they took me to the local boss, a man named Lord Harvey. He called me, a 13 year old boy, the Barbarian Child, and took me in.

Over the next 8 years I became Lord Harvey's best muscle. I was tougher than anybody, wild and crazy, and most of all, I was good at knowing how to win, not just fight. I made that old man a lot of money in those years, and made a name for myself. The Barbarian Child became the Barbarian, the most feared name in the Western Ports.

Then came that day that the tribes on the plains got themselves slagged. No idea why, but some Lord from a distant port came in with a Battleship, blasted some huts, and then took the survivors to be slaves. I, being one of their number, was assaulted in the street by some Original Syn guards. They must have wanted me dead for a job I pulled some time ago, and figured they could write it off as me going wild at the death of my people. Maybe they thought I would be mad at that, that I'd go Berserk and they could take me in my rage.

They were dead in three heartbeats. But I was now holding a gun that had vaped some Original Syn guards. They came after you for that. I had gone in one instant from Lord Harvey's best asset, to his biggest liability. If I'd been any less popular, or any less smart about backups in case he tried anything, he'd have had me killed on the spot, and nothing would have been said. As it was, I got some surgery to remove my tribal tattoos, the last mark of my home, and then got some cash and a fighter, and was told to ship out.

Luck ran strong with me though. A couple of girls needed an out, quick, as they'd been caught smuggling. Their ship was now marked, and I traded them my fighter, and most of my savings, for their Orca. A quick wipe of the ID, and a toggling of the Drive plates, and I had me a Corvette in place of that ratty old fighter. I even got some of the boys in the back manning stations, bringing some of my old life with me into space. This is my first Journal entry as I sit here, waiting for flight clearance, looking at the stars. I name myself their Sage, and soon, they will know that I am their master.

Journal End and File
Nice intro.

I had to read it twice to understand it though...don't ask me why.
Post edited October 10, 2013 by vgray37
Heh, perhaps because I'm jumping around a bit. These are a bit more linear, so they should be easier to understand.




Journal Entry 2450.37

I was overjoyed to be out among the stars for the first time. So overjoyed that I almost missed a blip on my sensors. But that blip turned into something nasty. A Stargun, a fighter that's basically a set of guns strapped to an engine, was just pulling away from an expanding cloud of debris. It took only a second to confirm that said debris was the fighter Lord Harvey had 'generously' given me.

Was this his way of getting rid of me out of sight of the rest of his empire? Or had whatever those girls been running from caught up with them? Or was this all just some random coincidence, and the guy in that fighter was just another pirate, like me, who'd seen an easy mark, and gone for it?

Whatever the case was, I decided to make my displeasure with him known. I pinged him once, tried to hail, but got the usual static burst that was a pirates way of saying 'Go to Hell'. Finding that answer unsatisfactory, I closed in and scanned him. His ship had a bounty marked on it. That was the last straw. He was worth money, and right now, with only ten grand left of my life savings, I could use some of that money.

Of course, when I got into battle, I made two discoveries. One was that my ship had no guns, something the lovely ladies had failed to mention. Two was that this idiot was...well, an idiot. He locked his tractor beams on me, while I launched a missile at him. Before he could do anything else, I EMPed him, and in a few sweet seconds, it was over. That missile jammed up his tail pipe, burst through his shields, and with an explosion of light and heat, he was space dust.

Combat in Gravitic ships was like that. The gravity ball at the center of the ship, the reactor that let you fire missiles and guns. It was being maintained by the shield outside. That was why ships had to be so small, only a hundred crew at best. Too much bigger than that, and the field was too weak to sustain itself. As is, it didn't take much fire to blow that field, popping it like a bubble, and when it popped, so did the ship.

With that out of the way, I went back down planet side, an Eastern Port, where I wouldn't be recognized as easily. While down, I was dismayed to find my ship had no mount point for guns. Apparently, in my haste to buy the ship, I hadn't read up on it carefully enough. Orca's, while Corvettes, were more for hauling freight than fighting, and so their energy that would normally go to weapons, was instead shunted into engines. Gave them a bit more umph, but it did mean I would never fire a non-missile shot out of this rust bucket.

I was all set to trade her in for that fighter, when I noticed a local merchant was selling droids. Good ones, war material he'd probably scavenged from a battleship wreck or something. A haggle later and I had five glorious mechs. However, I then had a problem. I couldn't take them with me on take them with me on a fighter. Heck, I couldn't even take the boys with me I realized, and decided to tough it out in the Orca till I could buy a decent brawler ship.

Getting back in the pilot seat, I launched. Luck hit me again though. Nightmare was just limping back into port from a botched job. That little lady was the worst pirate, in every sense of the term, in the system. Oh, she almost never failed a mission, but she rarely kept her crew alive doing it. What's more, I knew of a guy who wanted her head, and would pay forty grand for it.

She was in a corvette like mine, but she had guns. Luckily, she was still reeling from a beating, half her shields gone. More, I had a secret weapon on my side. Dust. That stuff, made by the plains dwellers I'd grown up with, was worth more than gold. Heck, the stuff was probably worth more than that now, since the tribe was gone.

You see, Dust was a discovery on New Moscow by the primitives. Inhaling it made you better. At everything. Faster, smarter, stronger, you name it. Better than that, it wasn't addictive. Well, not like most drugs. You could quit and never look back, even if you'd miss the feeling of power it gave you. Figured I had...two hundred days of the stuff left when I set out from home, and I decided to make the most of it.

I blew her away easy, one missile, and that was it. She didn't even get to fire her guns. Came to find out that my missiles, thanks to not having to compete with gun fire from the rear, had some bigger boom than most others. The money from that job got me some better engines, which I used to track down a life pod adrift in the system. Better, it led me to a ghost ship, and the treasure that ship was after, making my cashroll feel a lot heavier.

Then I got a nasty surprise. A destroy, Patton grade, closing in. Must have thought me an easy mark. I proved them wrong though. I hit first, and I hit harder. I launched a missile, and gave it some ECM protection. Then, after they wasted their time trying to take it out anyway, I EMPed them. It hit, full force. A second salvo followed, and like the first, it hit home, blowing the pirates away, and making me another sixty large in bounty, as well as what I got from their cargo.

Three victories under my belt, with not a single shot landing, I was feeling confident. So I attacked another pirate. After all, best to fight those who would be getting no help. I found my fourth battle harder. My first missile was led astry, while my EMP shots missed. I was wide open, and the captain of the destroyer I was fighting took advantage, blowing through half my shield in one barrage.

I admit that I was scared, but not enough to back down. I cried for my crew to give me all power. A missile fired, a shot dodged, a missile hits, an EMP hits behind. Another missile fired, and before they can lock on, the second shot strikes true. They explode, and we are left to clean up their debris, humbled a bit, but not defeated, as we make our way home.

Journal End and File
Journal Entry 2450.68

Got some notoriety now. First killed some fancy guy in a big Shark, another Destroy Class. Same as the first. Somehow, that got me noticed, and I earned a title for myself. Can't remember what it was, but someone came to the ship, some old codger, and he offered to show me a trick that milked a bit more out of my Gravitic bubble than I was getting now. I let him leave with his life.

A few more kills, and I left New Moscow with a new missile. It was a bit faster than before, letting me take out the fools who challenged me a bit faster. Heh, my ship, an Orca, was being called 'Killer Whale' in hushed whispers in every bar in the system now. Most thought me a Bounty Hunter or the like, since I went after pirates exclusively right now. Pirates knew I was one of them though, and knew I was just taking them out because they were the easiest targets, having no backup, and made me the most money per kill.

Some of the bosses on the worlds sent me money to leave their operations alone, and since I wanted to be an honorable Sage, I did so. For now anyway. It didn't cost me much, and it saved me making enemies everywhere I went. I got the feeling, however, that none of them liked me in their space, and so I resolved to leave sooner, rather than later.

First stop after New Moscow was Murmansk. There I found a few more pirates to blow away. Planet side it was a dead end though. No one had heard of any leads on treasure, and what's more, the place was just not happening enough, with the streets deserted only a few hours after dark, and those who remained more interested in pilfering than fun.

Next was Petersburg. This place was a bit more lively. First I found the coordinates to a treasure just outside orbit. Second was the planet's upper atmosphere was literally crawling with targets, most of them destroy class, who all felt the sting of my new missile. I did find an old man too, but somehow, I knew he had a mission involving cargo, more than I could haul now, and if I agreed to it, he'd bug me about it, so I filed him away for later, before setting out for the next world.

Molotov was as hot as the cocktail that bares its name. The bar gave me a lead on another treasure, this one a bit farther out, but more important someone here needed a favor. Someone like me had gone rogue and was attacking the local Lords, before fleeing to the sun, and he'd earned himself quite the bounty, one I aimed to collect as I shot off towards the big ball.

Luckily, despite being better equipped than most of my foes had been so far, the idiot had let himself fly a bit too close to the sun, and had gotten burned for his trouble. With almost no shields, he went down in one missile, though it reminded me again that once I had the money, I needed to purchase myself something with a gun mount.

Even better, once I got back to port, I got a call from that same oldster, the one who taught me the trick before, and he offered another trick with my shields. This one was a bit more complex, involving as it did matching an enemies shield frequency so you could pass through it, but it would allow me to invade my enemy, taking his ship more my own.

Returning to Petersburg, I got my reward, and then headed for Gameris. Nothing here but a few entertainment venues, some spectators, and the thrill of simulated combat. Having tasted the real thing, I find these fakes to be less than exciting, and after trawling the bars for rumors, finding nothing that piques my interest, I decide at last, it is time. I need to leave the system in which I was born, and travel the stars.

Journal End and File