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Post by grävling on Feb 16, 2017 2:39:34 GMT -5
Captain Grävling went to the ready room, and found a table of long faces. "What's up?" she asked. "Problems with the shipyard." replied her first officer. "More cappabar?, eh, Number One? How much do the little weasels want this time?" "It's not that, sir. It's something new." "And ...." Number One looked around the table for emotional support. Telling this was not going to be easy. "You know that passenger cabin we had installed on Northpines?" "Yep." "We don't own it any more." Grävling blinked. "Just what does that mean?", she asked. Number One gulped. "The dockyard claims that non-union labour was used at the ... ah ... fraudulent operation ... at Northpines, and thus they were legally required to ... ah ... remove ... the component. Safety Regulations. Shalun Law. If we want it back, it will take another 3 weeks, and cost ... ah ... catalog price plus labour at standard union rates." Captain Grävling looked questioningly at the faces around the table. Everybody nodded gravely back at her. " Shalun blast them all to the Hells! Team, it's high time to go back to orbit. Let's spend a few weeks monitoring communications with the shipyard, shall we? I'll prove those rotten producers of biowaste are in league with Syndicate Rychart if it's the last thing I do!"
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 16, 2017 3:52:42 GMT -5
Captain Stormraven slid into port smoothly, glad to be back on Zenrin soil even if it was a brief visit and not the home quadrant.
He checked that the crew had secured things properly then sent them off to the spice hall under the watchful eyes of his officers, their cred sticks full with the last months pay.
It had been a long 6 hyper jump voyage from the Fortune Sun quadrant to get here and as soon as he'd secured the contract passenger they'd come to retrieve for the DeValtos Prince Kenny Vidarr, they'd be retracing their route most likely dodging the same pirates and zealots they'd slipped by getting here.
He leisurely strolled into the meeting place looking forward to collecting the first half of the contract pay and then joining his crew in the spice halls for the evening.
Unfortunately his happy moment wasn't to last long as the contact told him in no uncertain terms that the accommodations aboard ship weren't adequate. Stunned he had stop and think about the situation, yes while it hadn't been used much in the past few years, he was sure the Luxery Passenger cabin hadn't been replaced with some other component during one of the many refits he'd had done over the years. He pulled out his pad and called up the ship schematics just to make sure. Then with a sickening drop in his stomach he realized his error.
Grayson Nax an up and coming Thulun politician back in Fortune Sun had offered him a very nice long term contract to ferry his personal emmesary and special negotiator MyKatte about on some sort of extended Diplomatic Tour. As it there was no rush for the mission with the contract being roughly 5 years in length and the diplomat staying mostly in the Luxery Cabin only deigning to talk to the ships Diplomatic officer and her assistant he'd completely forgetten about the man. Blast, looked like it was time for another round of refitting on the ship. At this rate between the cost of refits, paying crew saleries and the cost of maintenance and repairs from any "mishaps" along the way he'd be lucky to break even on the trip...
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 16, 2017 3:54:05 GMT -5
The moral of that tale is to not forget what contracts you've already taken because a quick profit can quickly turn into a money sink instead.
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 16, 2017 4:27:39 GMT -5
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Post by fallen on Feb 16, 2017 11:47:11 GMT -5
Very nice! Great to have a skilled Navigator on board!
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Post by grävling on Feb 17, 2017 4:37:09 GMT -5
I decided to hire somebody special from my Merchant contact. I was looking for a silver-tongued charismatic deal negotiator. Got somebody with a sword scar right across her face, missing a nose or something. Charisma of 16. On the other hand her combat skills were all 24 or better. "Lady" I said, "I could use an Officer to manage my away-team". About a year along the road, I was beginning to have some suspicions about how Officer Loomis had acquired her facial injury. Complaints issued from all decks about abuse of authority, harassment, and bullying. But she was fearless in battle, where a certain amount of savagery is not only expected, but to be encouraged. The final straw came when Navigator Harris, an extremely promising young Hyperwarp Navigator I had intended to promote to Officer next time I had a major crew re-shuffle, jumped ship, citing comments that disparaged his masculinity due to his inverted sexual orientation. "Lady" I said, "You're good, but I don't need you that much."
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Post by MintDragon on Feb 17, 2017 15:26:12 GMT -5
As my clan's most thrill-seeking Javat Explorer, I've been to many worlds, settlements, cities and wildernesses alike. While I traded during lean times, I quite enjoyed taking on missions that would send me across the galaxian quadrants with purpose... and always a home to long for and return to. I took so many missions, especially against the hated De Valtos, that within the Spice Halls there were always whispers of me meeting my demise shortly. Today my Navigation officer pointed over across the room. I looked at the grease-tinged wall. A De Valtos notice with my name and picture with the title "Wanted War Criminal" was posted, she whispered that some of the crew were contemplating leaving before we left port. "Spice for everyone!" I shouted, followed by a roar from my crew. I reached for her sector maps. They were labelled 1.0.23, which were the most recent version available. Perfect for a long voyage across many sectors... Glancing up once again at the wall, I realize how young I looked in the picture, back when... and then I smiled What my officers and crew did not know is when THAT picture was taken, I was actually on a De Valtos planet in their strongest sector. And the young but powerful Prince was in love with my sister. He courted her and wanted to show her the beauty of the worlds in the sector he controlled... until a perfect storm of meteors and radiation tore through part of his ship. The vacuum was sealed quickly, but not before she was lost into the cold abyss forever. It was time to cash in those chips, receive pardon for the crimes that made me and my crew rich beyond a lifetime of dreams, and finally retire back home on my childhood planet, a nice peaceful farming planet far from the interest of politicians and mercenaries. "We leave in the morning!" Arriving in the De Valtos palace several months later, I spoke with the dignitaries who assured me that 20,000 credits would clear me of my crimes. I swaggered over to the Princes offices with credits at the ready, looking for the button to push to enter his office and complete the transaction. But there was no button! It should be here... right HERE! I spun around to the dignitaries and glared, "What madness is THIS? Don't play games with me political scum!" "The prince isn't here" one of them announced with a smirk, as 4 guards entered the room. "Patrol! By my side, and ready yourselves!" As the guards moved towards us, I whispered, "Take no quarter. Kill. Them. All" [Edit/Reference: xdesperado discovered a boo-boo in the coding, that prevents one from purchasing pardons (link here), and on my epic 1.0.23 game, I'm playing a Javat explorer with my De Valtos Prince contact waaaay on the other side of the map, some 6 sectors away. Part of my mid-game strategy was to take the most lucrative missions, especially if they were against De Valtos, as I would work my way over there eventually, and get a pardon from the Prince. Well, that didn't work out so well...]
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Post by grävling on Feb 19, 2017 20:06:00 GMT -5
Captain Grävling was not in a good mood. On her way to deliver a package to the Urban Population Centre, Antonia Prime, she was ambushed by a Syndicate Rychart Pirate in a Heavy Lifter. With 'Attack' and 'Surrender' the only options, and flying a Juror, she decided that now was one of those times when you just had to hand in the towel.
The pirates took everything. Bye-Bye Crop Harvesters. Bye-Bye Vudka. Bye-Bye Methane Fuel.
"And, of course, I am off to that useless Antonia Prime. All they have to sell is scrap.", thought Grävling unhappily to herself. "Okay then, scrap from Antonia Prime, then back to the Orbital settlement with the silly name, Du-Gil-Tao or whatever, and then, Basic Medicines and Methane Fuel, I suppose since there still is that holdup about the level 2 trade permit."
At the Exchange, proud signs boasted of the 'completely automated' service. And a shiny new robot sat at the front desk and said that indeed, they had plenty of scrap available for purchase.
"That's great!'", beamed Grävling, who was already in better spirits. "I'll take all I can carry. Just fill up that Juror over there in Docking Bay 12, will you."
"I'm sorry," replied the machine. "But according to your manifest, you are already completely full of, ah, crop harvesters and methane fuel. So there's no room. We cannot sell to you."
"Ah," said Grävling, smiling indulgently, "That's Pirates for you. When they steal things, they don't bother with any paperwork. I can assure you that my hold is completely empty. Plenty of room."
"But the regulations say that you have to register your sale on the manifest, every time you sell goods. Why isn't it on the manifest?"
"Because I didn't sell the crop harvesters to the Pirates. They just took 'em."
"That sounds extremely irregular."
"Oh it is. So, what about that scrap metal?"
"I'm sorry, but according to your manifest, you are already completely full of crop harvesters and methane fuel. So there's no room. We cannot sell to you."
Grävling sighed. "Can you follow me down to Docking Bay 12?"
"Certainly sir. I am equipped with the very latest in mobility enhancements. That is well within my capacity."
"Glad to hear it. Now, come with me."
"You wish me to travel to Docking Bay 12?"
"Didn't I just say that?"
"Your phrasing was ambiguous. It could have merely been a request for information about my functional parameters."
"Well, it wasn't. Please follow me."
A few minutes later they were both standing at Docking Bay 12, looking at the completely empty cargo bay of Grävling's Juror.
"Now," said Grävling, "what do you see over there?"
"That," said the robot, "is the open hatch to the cargo hold of a Juror Mark 17 Star Trader Ship, capacity 25 units, manufactured by the Clan Zenrin Industrial Spaceship Company, probably on Tyrellian Gamble, between the years ..."
"That's enough," interrupted Grävling. "And what don't you see?"
The robot thought for a bit.
"Answering that question is estimated to take me 207.4 years. Are you certain that you wish me to continue?"
"No, No!" exclaimed Grävling. "Please don't take 207 years! I just wanted to show you that there are no crop harvesters here. No methane fuel, either. Indeed, wouldn't you say that this cargo hold is completely empty?"
"That certainly seems to be the case." agreed the robot.
"So. Scrap Metal. I would like to buy 25 units from you and have that placed in this empty cargo hold."
"I'm sorry, but according to your manifest, you are already completely full of crop harvesters and methane fuel. So there's no room. We cannot sell to you."
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 20, 2017 7:33:29 GMT -5
Captain Stormraven looked up from his desk as he heard the door to his ready room open. The stress of the past few months showing plainly on his face. Three of his officers edged into the room their faces as worn and grim as his. "What is it now, and where's Chief Pilot Frostbane?" He demanded. The three officers shuffled their feet and looked at each other, none anctious to respond. Looking at them he softened his tone, "we lost another one didn't we?" The looks on their faces was all he needed even before Doctor Lewsbern confirmed it with a curt nod of her head. "I have the medical records and Ruth here," making a slight gesture towards the Crew Boss, "took the liberty of retrieving Daedre's crew evaluations so you can select a replacement sir." A distracted, "thank you that will be all," was the best he could muster as he pulled the stack of reports they placed on his desk closer and slotted the first chip into his reader. Started a new game on Hard as a Merchant running a Paladin Cruiser. Turn 2663 and the Pistoleer I promoted and gave jobs of Doctor and Spy to is only "Starting" officer I have left and one of the few starting crew members I still have on board. Had only minor bumps until around turn 2000, since then its been a rollercoaster with more gut wrenching downs than ups. Bloody Pirates will likely be the end of this Captain as they are thick and lately haven't even bothered to give me the chance at surrender, just a nice single option of attack. Only consolation is that roughly a quarter of my crew are former pirates that found out the hard way that refusing to let my ship escape combat was a bad idea. Even though this Captain will likely die or be forced into retirement soon due to financial crises, the adjustments in latest version make playing on Hard much more enjoyable.
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Post by fallen on Feb 20, 2017 11:17:52 GMT -5
Glad the difficulty scale changes have been beneficial!
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 21, 2017 6:46:53 GMT -5
So I've got a great bunch of officers, help me keep the ship running smooth and at peak efficency as we travel about the galaxy. But, there's a small problem with them. See every time we hit grav their intelligence takes a nose dive, drops like an astroid into a gas giant. You'd think being competent sorts that I could delegate some responsibility while in port, have my Chief Engineer coordinate with the local techs for fuel and repairs, have my Crew Boss keep an eye on the Crew Dogs at the Spice Hall and cover their tabs, The Doc make sure all those who'd gotten roughed up on the trip were seen by the local Technologist Doctor, my Cargo Master arrange for any trades at the exchange while my Diplomatic officer accompanied me to see whatever local contact we had to arrange a mission. But no, like I said their IQ goes down to sub zero levels and I have to hold their hands and take care of everything dirt side myself which adds weeks to time spent in port. I'm a Free Trader, Master of Space, meant to roam between the stars. If I'd wanted to stay in grav I'd never have left home and that position in the court my family had arranged for me. Please let this next drop dirt side be a quick one, I need to see the stars moving around me and feel the deck plates quiver under my feet as we hit the jump point.
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Post by grävling on Feb 21, 2017 23:50:28 GMT -5
Big storm here in my part of Sweden right now. The heavy rains woke me up. Leaped out of bed, with one thought in my mind:
Murdering your mutinous crew in crew-combat is not an acceptable way to solve the in-flight entertainment problem!
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Post by slayernz on Feb 22, 2017 0:16:47 GMT -5
Look, I really think there is a problem with your portrait mode. When I'm using it, I have to keep turning my head sideways.
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Post by xdesperado on Feb 23, 2017 17:02:49 GMT -5
Wasn't always the Captain ya know. Unlike some as was born wit a silver spoon and handed the codes to a ship for not being so stupid as ta get demselves killed afore thar cuming o'age, I started as a common Crew Dog an spent many a year spacing wit this Captain or that afore gitten me own ship but that thar a story fer another time... You asked how ta git rep wit da Rychart. May no work fer you but fer meself. I bin spacen fer a few years by then, wachin an learnen tings an fillen varus job aboard this ship or that wen I found meself downgrav wit no ship tanks to da last captain being an idiot wat got hiself an us crew all but dead tanglen wit a patrol ship as could easily been avoided or paid off ta ignore us. Some Captains are jus to dumb an ignarant to ship wit or hav the cursed luck and then it be time ta move ta a new ship. Anways that not important save as I foun meself sitten in the Spice Hall on some chunk o rock claimed by Rychart an needing a ship ta sign on wid. Now by that point normally I'd have avoided a fresh faced never been out o orbit captain like da Javatian lung blight but traffic ta dat rock was scarce an after a few months I was getten anxious fer space ya know, or maybe ya don't know, look a little green yerself boy'o sure you ol enuf fer that Spice Beer thar. Anyways dis little Rychart lordling had decided he was going ta be a Free Trader an his family paid freight wit da local prince ta get him a license an ship. Had an uncle wat was a Captain already an thar was only reason I signed on even bein anxious ta get off that rock. Could see da uncle had some jumps under his belt an knew the difference tween da bridge and da head. Anyways da uncle did nay have room on his ship for crew but he took a liking ta meself and talked me into signen wit his worthless brat nephew as Chief Hyperwarp Navigator. Did his best ta fill his wortless nephew ship wit solid spacers though far to many were nearly as wet behind da ears an green as da captain was. Anyways hadn't been on board long when realized I was horrible outnumbered by Rychart an mos o deem did nay much care fo meself. Finally it all came to a head during a particular nasty jump. I'd recommended again it but da Captain was in a hurry an one O the junior navigators wat was his drinken buddy had convinced him the jump would be fine. Took us 6 weeks in hyper an half da ship an crew was damaged or dead by time we came out. Now right after we start that jump an knew it ha gone wrong meself an da junior nav dat had caused dis situation had a rite row, lots o shouting an pushen wit insults a flyen along wit some fists. Mos da crew saw including da little popinjay of a captain that took it upon hiself to get involved. He ordered me to my quarters which by den was fine wit me but also tol me ta lose da hat an kerchief I always wore. Now I hadn't much cared for siten on that bit o Rychart rock but a ver fine lady thar had given me tha Hat an kerchief as gifts an I was a bit partial ta dem. Shouted at da Captain he coul take dem off me when we all been floating dead an cold in space 6 months an not a day afore. Well about a week later somten sucked da captain an his little friend out da hull o da ship an dat was dat. Somehow rest o us managed to hold what was lef tagether and make it ta port. Was surprised when da udder officers and senior crew came an said they'd voted meself Captain on one condition. That I never quit wearing dis hat an kerchief long as I be Captain. Wat yar this be the hat an kerchief here, good luck ya know. Oh an ran into da uncle about a year after da incident and he said he was nay surprised to hear his nephews passen. Also complimented my fine sense o fashion wearing his nieces hat an kerchief so well an all. So now ya know how ta gain respec wit Rychart jus dress rite an keep em talken. Now how bout another round of Vudka here...
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Post by grävling on Mar 3, 2017 4:47:06 GMT -5
"You know, Pop, Star Traders are really strange." said the little girl. The man smiled indulgently at his daughter. "That's well-known, my angel. Was one of them doing anything particularly strange that you noticed recently?" "Yeah. This morning a Captain Grävling came into the depot and bought 7 ore-extractors." "Well, that's what we like to hear. It's very nice for us." "Yes, but then she immediately sold them back to us." "Probably remembered that on those nasty non-Independent worlds you need a Permit to sell such things, so the deal wouldn't work for her. But, hey, we made money on that exchange ..." "Father" interrupted the girl. " I know all this. And I haven't finished explaining. She then bought the same extractors again from us. And sold them back. Then she turned to a member of her crew and said, ok, you try buying them a few times." "And ..." "And this other person did what she was told. And then finally Kenji, who was getting a bit disturbed by all this said, 'well, if you are worried about Permits, I know a nice Indie Mining world here in the Fifth where they don't care about such things. There's an old retired explorer that lives there too.'" Her father nodded. "That's true. She could sell them there." "And then Captain Grävling and her crewmate joined hands and jumped up and down a few times laughing uproariously and singing 'Captain ChocoCrowbar was right!! Captain ChocoCrowbar was right!! And, by the way, we will take those extractors!" Her father looked at her with bemusement. "Just crazy, it seems. Star Traders are really strange." startradersrpg.proboards.com/thread/15250/trade-permit-rep-calculation-request?page=1&scrollTo=182788
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