A/N: Character development! LET THE BODIES HIT THE FLOOR.
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Clarent has acquired the following equipment:
120mm Autocannon - Fitted to Bow Shield
(80MW, 600kg, medium)
Bow Shield
(450kg, 1 medium hardpoint)
"Bolo" ASM Launcher - Fixed Mount
(120MW, 1,000kg, large)
Baleen's Frontal Armor
(1200kg, 1 medium hardpoint)
Large Mount Servo
(100kg, 1 large hardpoint)
Medium Engine II
(90MW, 7,250kgf output)
Ship Summary:
Displacement: 7,950kg
Total Thrust: 13,500kgf
Energy Usage: 590/900MW
Max Velocity: 170ms-1
Turning Speed: 0.51°s-1
Acceleration: 4ms-2
TAPS Setting: 400m, Flanking
It appears your ship is much more maneuverable now, and well-protected from the front. However, your flanks seem a little soft. Might want to armor up on the sides the next time you come across a shipwreck.
At last, you're out of the asteroid belt. You're in the clear now. As Clarent plots a course for the smaller station, you lean back in the cockpit and let your guard down a little. There's nothing left to do now but wait until you get within visual range of the station.
Clarent seems restless, though. Almost as if she has some questions to ask. You wonder what's going through her neural wafer as she twiddles her thumbs. Naturally, it doesn't take long for you to become annoyed at this sort of behavior.
"Spit it out", you tell her.
"Test Pilot ABT-231-7C", she begins carefully.
"Would it be rude of me to inquire your real name?"
"Why yes", you say quite bluntly.
"It would be... incredibly rude. You're a computer. More specifically, a weird little toy that some virginal egghead conceived while making sweet love to his RealDoll. You don't need to know my name."
"...I resent that. I think I'm going to look it up in the ship's databank."
"Oh no you don't", you threaten her.
"Don't make me get physical in here."
"Searching... Test Pilot ABT-231-7C."
Giant red letters suddenly flash on the main holopanel:
W A R N I N G.
SECURE DATABANK COMPROMISED. INITIATING LOCKDOWN PROTOCOLS.
The fear of a small child and the anger of a thousand africanized honey bees fills your mind simultaneously.
"Oh, jesus. Clarent, what the fuck did you just do?"
"Something bad", she says somewhat meekly.
"Lemme try and override it."
You shoot her the sort of glare that could tear through a bulkhead.
"I'll override your face if you don't cut it out."
"Don't worry. I think I've got it."
With that, the holopanel flashes a set of letters in a reassuring shade of green.
LOCKDOWN RELEASED.
"Well, that's just dandy. Don't do it again."
Clarent creases her lips in a sort of nervous, jittery smile.
"I'm afraid I've got good news and bad news."
"...what do you mean?", you ask her, expecting the absolute worst.
"The good news is, I still don't know your name", she begins.
"The databank wiped itself before I could get a hold of it. Additionally, we still have control of the ship, so no problems there."
You pause for a moment.
"What's the bad news?"
"The bad news is, it was a botched override and the lockdown still affects the command pod release system. I'm afraid you're not getting off this ship without an unlock code from HQ."
You laugh nervously, a chill running down your spine.
"Ahahahaha. You're not serious, are you? You tinheads make the weirdest jokes, I swear."
"Not to worry. The cockpit's patented Nutrition System has enough food to last you for a few months. Longer, if we manage to assimilate an AutoFarm. This ship's designers thought of everything." Clarent gestures towards the tube and plastic mouthpiece of the Nutrition System, out of which strange mockeries of meat, fruit and vegetables are supposed to flow in paste form. There is also a Hydration System mouthpiece, colored differently to avoid confusion.
You fall silent.
"You're serious", you mutter numbly after a while.
There are no words to describe your feelings right now. You had planned to step out of this ridiculous ship after reaching the station's drydock, drown yourself in alcohol, and generally blow off some steam. But now it appears that you're stuck with Clarent until you can find a way home. Or
forever, if you can't find a way home.
It occurs to you that you need to make the best of what comforts you have. You'll knock yourself out when you get home.
"While we're on the subject, how do I take a leak?"
"Look down", Clarent says.
"You've had a catheter up your dick since we left dock."
"What if I need to take a number two?", you ask, pulling at your flight suit restlessly.
"You've got a tube for that too. Now that you know it's there, it's going to itch a bit."
"Shit", you swear. The positively fecal pun you've just made escapes you in your weariness.
You spend the rest of the trip lying down, suckling on the Nutrition System's tube like a baby's bottle. It tastes decent, but it's soulless and cold. You don't doubt that there's an option to heat it, but you do doubt that there's an option to have it with a side of 70-proof liquor.
Something comes up on the main holopanel after a few hours of travel.
It appears that there is a very large, very threatening-looking mining barge standing in your way and hailing you. A boyish voice comes through the comm channel.
"This is the S/N Ronove. I'm sorry, freebooter, but we can't allow you to approach this station at the moment."
"This is the CMS Clarent", you reply, bolting to attention.
"We're uh... looking for directions to a certain place called Sigma Eridani."
"I suggest you head for the Big Pig if you're looking for help. The Piglet--that is, the station you seem to be heading for-- is having droid problems. We're not perfectly clear on the how or the why but I think we're pretty sure about the what and the who."
"Slow down", you tell him.
You can hear him taking a deep breath.
"It's bad. Their mining drones went apeshit on them for whatever reason, and all attempts at regaining control have failed. I mean like completely apeshit. They're pitching themselves at random passersby and slicing them in half. This is why we can't let you enter the vicinity. I'm sorry."
Clarent pipes up.
"We can help you take care of them. ...Isn't that right, Test Pilot ABT-231-7C?"
"Only if there's money in it", you reply.
"I bet my cash isn't worth shit wherever we've landed."
"You can help? That's great!", the Ronove captain says.
"We think one of the megacorporations is responsible for this. We're looking at the NeuroCom Conglomerate, more specifically. The drone malfunctions started happening around the same time one of their ships parked itself behind the moon and didn't respond to comms. We've had disputes with them for the planet's drilling rights for a while now, but we never expected them to go this far."
"Hmm. Doesn't sound like it's beyond an electronic warfare vessels's capabilities."
"What's the plan?", you ask.
"Um, I dunno. Can't really say for sure." You can almost see the captain scratching his head like a complete greenhorn.
"We could always head for the station first, and clear out the drones. You know, take control of the situation. But we also have the option of going directly for the NeuroCom ship and taking it down. We'll have the last laugh that way, but the ship might bring in a few of those drones for protection. It'll be dangerous."
Well, /bsf/, what do? Should we clear out the drones first, or aim for the corporate EW ship, or just chicken out and head for the Big Pig?
We don't have any credits right now, but we could certainly get some information there. On the other hand, some money to buy parts with would be nice. And who knows, the corporate ship might have some stuff we can't get elsewhere.
