HOW DARE YOU INSULT THE BEST SHIP IN THE KNOWN UNIVERSE THE MIGHTY PEE MARK TWO

Considering the Type 7 is basically obsolete in the current standing of the game, unless you have an unhealthy love for what is almost literally a brick with thrusters (and Canonn say calling the Type 7 a brick is an insult to the brick, quite hilariously), that can’t be a bad thing.

Given that I am not much of a hauler, I’m not sure I’d be able to justify that one, however. Certainly not for ARX, and I doubt that Thargoid rescue operations will necessarily still stick around long enough (in the current fashion) for this to become useful in that regard.

… that is assuming the remaining Titans are thrown down the flusher within the next… month, maybe two. If not, I guess there’s going to be a magic anti-Titan switch thrown by Frontier or they make the surviving one(s) leave… not quite of their own accord.

Regardless, I’m eyeing this one cautiously, unlike the strong disinterest I had in the Python knockoff trying to be an FDL(and possibly not very good at it, certainly where the visuals are concerned …).

Replacing my Type 7 with this one would be a good idea...

u-y3EGPZZDs

No problem. The best is to learn about it by reading what it says in Wiki, generally information is correct, it will save you time and efforts.

@episparh + @thinder

Great, guys. I'll try all that by time, sounds logical and I'm sure you two know what you talking off.

And Thinder: Thank you so much for the detailed instructions, that probably makes it pretty easy for me to do what you all had to painstakingly try.

Thanks again!

I threw a silly look at her.

"Oh... come on. You know, which treasure I mean." Then, I switched to a playful teasing tone. "Unless, there is more than one treasure onboard ..."

That tone was accompanied by a matching look, far from being flirty, just.. messing with someone else, and a teasing reference to calling my body shape a treasure, when the name of the ship was a subject. That short scene was as much of that as I dared put on, though, else there was the likely risk of it being misunderstood as a different kind of interest... or so I thought, anyway.

"I do not know much about mythology... or, the less obvious ones, anyway. I did not even realize, they had named the Titans after gods of thunder... until someone else mentioned. And, go ahead, we can leave. We have our cargo... and don't want to give wrong ideas. Unless you would like to dump it over their heads, as we fly off."

An idea which I didn't really find particularly amusing. Not for power generators, anyway, and there was the possibility of us finding a practical use for them... maybe. Had it been biowaste, I might have suggested it in a slightly more serious tone.

"The keeper of treasures is female because it's named after a goddess. But you're right - I'd prefer her to live up to her name. Whatever treasures you mean..." I replied and laughed.

"Sure hope whatever we get out of that data pad thing isn't useless. But while you're programs are working on it, we can use the time best having a look at the Musashi. And it's not that far away."

I waited for the loading of the goods into the Gullveig to be completed. Then I closed and locked the cargo hatch. Next, I programmed the course to the mega ship.

"I think you will be more challenged on this mission. Let's see how well the Musashi is secured. Ready when you are."

"I don't know.", I replied. "What do you think would be better? Because this ..."

I held up the data pad.

"Will not have as simple of an encryption, as standard Azimuth comms. Breaking it, may take some time."

With that said, I threw one of my programs at the job, and also let EDI poke at it.

"It could also turn out... useless. So, if we do both, better chance that something good, comes out. Passes the time, too. And ..." I paused a little for 'dramatic effect. "I maybe trust you to do it right. And you would like the keeper of treasures to live up to his name... right?"

I couldn't help but add a toying wink to the end of that, not so hidden, tease.

“Well, maybe some settlement out there could use this stuff. Let’s just get it on board for now,” I said while handing Kasumi the data pad I’d pulled from my backpack.

“Here’s something to toy with before you get the itch to break some stuff out of sheer boredom…” I said with a wink and went on, “Let’s hope this thing can be decrypted… otherwise, this whole caper wouldn’t amount to much.”

I stowed the backpack securely in a compartment and settled into the pilot’s seat.

“I reckon we should blast off as soon as the cargo’s loaded. Everything’s gone smooth so far, but let’s not jinx it with a nasty surprise at the end...”

I buckled up and started prepping everything for takeoff.

“Got any thoughts on what’s next? Head back to Abode, or swing by Musashi first? What do you think?”

“I think, just… do what you would like with the cargo. As long as it does not end up with Azimuth, or some less behaved pirates, I may not care.”

Knowing my pilot was about to arrive back on the ship, I finally managed to stop my hand from fumbling around the nice-feeling chest spot… but those sensations still refused to get out of my head. Definitely something to be ‘taken care of’ once I was all by myself again, and somewhere private.

I spun around with the seat - or ‘throne’, as some would have been inclined to call it - when she arrived, kind of forgetting I still had the pistol on my lap. Turned out, when gravity was low enough, and you had big enough thighs, things on it were quite easy to not notice after a while.

“See… it is all still, in one piece.”

“We could sell the goods, or just blow them into the void of space - unless you’ve got a better idea. They’re just a smokescreen, anyway.” I replied, as I approached the spot where I had climbed into the passage under the landing field, shielded by some containers.

The goods that Kasumi had ordered before had been delivered to our ship in the meantime. I made my way out of the underground, shielded by the stacked containers. A few minutes later, I was back on the landing field and headed for the cargo hatch of the Gullveig.

“I’m coming on board now.” I announced, to avoid being shot by my passenger at the end. You never know.

Shortly after, I entered the ship through the already opened cargo hatch and made my way to the cockpit, while I slipped the backpack off my shoulders on my way through the cargo bay, already eager to see if we could make heads or tails of the data pad nestled inside.

“They have stayed in their position… since they snapped back.”

Which was more than I could say about one of my hands. And it was quite difficult to get it back under control… especially when I was still all alone, for now. A ping caught my attention… effectively, announcing that the cargo delivery had arrived and was being loaded.

“The robot is here with the power stuff. What will we do with it, when we are done?”

Whether “done” meant ‘Here on the surface’ or that - presumably - still planned excursion to the Musashi, I wasn’t too sure. Either way, hopefully I’d get the unruly hand back to somewhere more appropriate before then… or, especially, before the other misfit that was meant to be on the ship returned. It would have been a lie to say I wasn’t just as much of one, in… wildly different ways. And sizes, too.

"As long as you keep the deliveries coming, hopefully no one will get suspicious. Maybe they’ll just think we’re comparing prices forever to make as much profit as possible," I said, swaggering down the corridor to the hatch room with a satisfied, wide grin.

Reaching the door, I flung it open, peeked inside - not a soul in sight - and promptly shut it behind me, engaging the lock with a satisfying click. I tossed the data pad onto the bed and fished out my gear from underneath. Shedding my coat first, I hung it back on the wall where I’d found it, stashed the data pad in my backpack, and slung it over my shoulder with a thud. The last thing I did was to replace the helmet, again adjusting the frequency in one helmet and misadjusting it in the other, which I then left in the locker.

I wasn’t exactly thrilled with the idea that I might’ve been parading around in a dead man’s gear. But hey, at least I didn’t have to off anyone, which might’ve made the old chap’s spirit a bit more agreeable, considering he’d given his life for others.

Next, I double-checked the fit and seal of my helmet, then popped open the floor hatch and started down the ladder towards our ship. The trek back was just as taxing as the way there, but uneventful, so it didn’t take me too long to reach my destination.

"Should be there shortly," I quipped over the helmet comm. "Nice to know there’s still a ship to come back to and you haven’t taken apart the panels or whatever." The little joke eased some of the tension I’d been carrying.

One of my hands had gotten wayward. The “poking into big breast because of nothing to do, with distracting sensations on the mind” kind of wayward. The renewed transmission, however, pulled me out of that. For now.

“I think …”

I peeked at the displays.

“Well… I thought I had ordered some more. But… a few more power generators it is.”

Because the existing ones were definitely in by now. I hit the confirm button on an order I’d set, earlier, and then kind of forgotten about.

“There has not been much more activity, since you left. Everything is still operating ‘normally’… and I did not break or play with panels. But I would like to go before they start to ask, why we are not leaving, already.”

Whatever we were going to do with those generators later. Definitely not for Azimuth, that was for sure. And… the wayward hand kind of went back to what it’d been doing, absent-mindedly.

"A few years of service in the Imperial Navy help with the task at hand. Basically, the process is probably similar everywhere: if you know one hierarchy, you know them all. Besides, I prefer not to run my head through the wall if possible... but to use the pretty thing to think occasionally," I replied as I waited for the young man to return with a copy of the logbook.

Which wasn't too long in coming. The young soldier soon returned, a data pad in his hands - the copy of the logbook. His steps were measured, his face a mask of solemn duty. He offered the pad with both hands, a gesture of respect to the rank he believed I held.

"Here is the logbook." he said, his voice betraying a hint of pride at fulfilling the important request of a senior officer.

I took the pad, my fingers brushing against his in a feigned moment of camaraderie. "You've done well. Your actions today exemplify the virtues of our forces - loyalty, diligence and strength of character. Commander Valtor would have been proud."

The soldier stood taller, visibly buoyed by the praise. "Thank you. I will return to my post and ensure that the central station remains manned."

"See that you do, I will now go back and fulfill my own task," I replied with a nod and saluted.

With a final salute, the soldier turned on his heel and departed upstairs. I watched him go, the data pad's weight in my hand a tangible symbol of the information I had sought.

Then I turned around and went down the stairs to the next floor, where the quarters with the hatch were and where I had left my helmet and backpack under the bed.

I turned to Kasumi again. "So far, so good. I'll try to return the same way I came in. Are there still any of the containers near the loading hatch? If not, please order some more goods and secure my exit."

I shook my head at the pretending to be Azimuth, before I answered.

“You are a lot better than I would be, at pretending to be one of them. And… I think I can, get it unlocked. Once I have it back here. But, that will make things, a lot simpler. And you may not have to go poking down there.”

That was all I had to say on this, as it was right now. And I had nothing to comment on the repeated insistence of Azimuth to call opposing forces “anarchists”… they probably even saw it as a compliment.

The young soldier’s salute lingered in the air, a testament to his discipline despite the evident strain. I could see the gears turning in his head, trying to place me within the hierarchy he so rigidly adhered to. His stance, rigid with military discipline, betrayed his anxiety over the unexpected encounter. I let the silence linger a moment longer, a tactic to gather my thoughts and assert control over the conversation.

"At ease. Your discipline in these trying times is commendable." I began, my voice steady and authoritative. "I am here to assess the situation after the… unfortunate demise of your superior. Tell me, how has the loss of your superior affected the morale here?"

The young man seemed to relax a little, the stiffness in his posture easing as he spoke. "Thank you. If I may be so bold, the loss of Commander Valtor has been a blow to us all. He held this place together. When the anarchists hit us, he was on the front lines, trying to protect the civilians. Took a blast meant for a group of kids. His fall during the anarchist raid has left us reeling."

I felt a twinge of something unexpected — respect, perhaps — for the fallen commander. But I pushed it aside. "He sounds like a brave man. And now you’re filling in his shoes, organizing everything. That’s commendable."

He straightened up at the praise, and I knew I had him. "Thank you. I’m just trying to do my best under the circumstances."

"You mentioned being understaffed — how has this affected your operations?"

He hesitated, then divulged, "We’re stretched thin. Double shifts have become the norm, and with the chaos in Cartier City, we’ve had no reinforcements. But I don’t know much more, command keeps their affairs close to the chest."

"Double shifts are a necessary evil in times like these," I said, my voice carrying the calm assurance of command. "And what of the ship on the landing pad?" I asked casually, as if it was just another item on a checklist.

"The... the Black Flight vessel?" He hesitated, then continued, "We’ve been ordered to stay clear of it. It came back damaged from a mission. They say it encountered the anarchists in space - some even say it’s cursed and that this ship is the reason we were attacked by the anarchists in the first place..."

I nodded, my mind racing. This was the opening I needed. "You’ve done well under these trying circumstances. As for the ship, it is imperative that I review its mission logs. The security of this settlement depends on it. But I need someone I can trust. Someone like you, who understands the importance of duty."

His eyes widened, the gravity of the situation dawning on him, while his chest swelled with pride. "Of course. The logbook has been copied and stored in the central station, only accessible to high-ranking officers. I can arrange for you to have an encrypted copy."

"See that you do." I replied, my tone softening. "Your loyalty in these dark times will be remembered. Azimuth values those who stand firm against the tide of chaos."

As he hurried off upstairs to fetch a copy of the logbook, I allowed myself a small smirk. The young soldier had no idea that the 'senior officer‘ before him was nothing more than a scoundrel in disguise.

Then I spoke to Kasumi in the Gullveig. "Looks like we are making progress, Kasumi. I just hope you will be able to decrypt this thing."

That's the way I equipped my Corvette, by far my most efficient Combat ship.

The reasons are: The 3C BEAM LASER Short Range Blaster Oversized on its own can easily cause damages to your ships by overheating.

The two 1E BEAM LASER Short Range Blaster Thermal Vent are on the side and above the 3C, occasionally they can miss the target if you aim (like I do) with the 3C Piper, so when one missed, the other hits and I have no issues with over heating.

The lower dot in the HUD is the 3 C Blaster, the two directly above it are the Thermal Vent.







I don't have this problem especially when my Power Distributor runs out of juice on the Python MK II, I guess it depends on ship and fit.

Since I changed the 3C from Long Range to Short Range Blaster, I increase its engineering Grade step by step.

From Grade 2 to Grade 3, I tested it, including firing in the void and with PIP exhausted to see how fast it overheats without the 2C THERMAL VENT. No problem there I just have to keep hitting the target to avoid overheating but I don't think I will go above Grade 3, DPS is already well high and with Abrasive Shells it get 25% higher.

That's 50.125/s which is a lot and the reason why I chose to use fixed Lasers in the first place, for comparison, a stock fixed 4A Multi-Cannon has a DPS of 28.00...‬

Thermal vents help to cool your ship down . However, if you fire them on empty WEP capacitator they will self-cook themselves

So, I’m yet again redefining words with my latest (work-in-progress) entry, only this time it feels like I’m redefining long instead of short.

I had already started to modified components by engineers, but I probably didn't pay attention to the negative side effects of some of the changes. Thanks for the tip

It also depends how you engineered them.

Beam Lasers are the most powerful of Laser Types, but they generate more heat as well, using THERMAL VENT EXPERIMENTAL EFFECT helps...

Ah, I see: always keep an eye on the displays, even in battle
And I have to be glad that there was a prison nearby, it could have been hundreds of LJ away.

Thank you very much, those were again very helpful answers. It's a very friendly and patient community!

"Hm ..."

I had to think on that for a moment... it was equally risk and opportunity.

"Why... not. But it will look strange if you, don't know access codes. And I am curious what he means by 'fallen superior' ..."

Most importantly, how he had been killed. Or, at least, died.

“Both good reasons to prefer a short way over a long one. I'll be back at the stairs in a jiffy.“ I replied.

I reached the door I had come through earlier and peeked around the corner. Nothing. So I made my way to the stairs and went down. As I arrived at the corridor, I was about to turn towards the server room when the door to the toilets opened not far from me.

"What the...?"

I turned my head to the side where the voice came from. In the door stood a young-looking man in uniform, sans headgear, and took a step towards me. His eyes briefly fell on my coat and then lingered on my helmet. He visibly paled and saluted.

"Beg your pardon. I wasn't expecting a senior officer."

I was so surprised by the situation that I kept silent while possible courses of action raced through my head, including reaching for my weapon. My silence was soon interpreted. Still in a stiff posture, the young man continued.

"I also apologize for not being at my post. May I speak?"

My experience from serving in the Imperial Navy, even though it was a long time ago, told me that the young man mistook me for a superior - probably because of the logo on my helmet - and was trying to excuse some wrongdoing. Following a spontaneous impulse, I nodded silently.

"I'm aware that the central station must be constantly manned and you surely expected to find me there, but we're hopelessly understaffed here..."

Well, I thought - that's something that exists in all armed forces regardless of their allegiance, always shifting the blame to the circumstances.

"...that's why I had to order double shifts. May I ask if you're here to take over the position of my recently fallen superior?"

I smirked under my helmet and spoke to Kasumi who overheard everything that had been said.

“I’m inclined to play along instead of murdering him. What do you say?“