Becoming Famous
04 Jan 2016Brenner Soriah
Stardate 0401-3302, 1415Logging in, Commander Brenner Soriah. I want to start by wishing everyone a happy New Year. 3301 has shown such marvelous leaps and spectacular events in human history, from the new Emperor in power to the increased appearance of unknown artifacts to the rapid expansion of organized human space control and increased autonomy of independent Pilot factions. A lot has happened, but a dog like me knows the tension building underneath. 3302 is going to see that tension grow, and quite possibly explode. The up-crop of terrorist organizations, quickly smashed by government forces, are a testament to the unrest in the galaxy. But those are just feelings right now; I can only hope that fate proves me wrong.
Regardless of my prattling, I have a lot to say for this log, considering my tardiness in keeping it (Many apologies). Long story short, I am becoming known. Not just known. /Requested/. I have been hard at work over the holidays for both the profit of myself and for the Paladin Consortium and humanity in kind. Hopefully I can remember it all accurately now, so I may be reminded of it later.
I'll start the log in order of events, starting with an operation 'Saving Pvt Wirral'. This one is so far in the past, it's already become fuzzy in my mind. I know it started with a compromised agent who had stolen a box of Don Antonaci's Christmas Crackers, pursued by the more well known pirates of the Galaxy. CODE, East India Traders, Smiling Dog. There were others too, and a desperate fight for the lone thief's survival soon began. The first wing linked up with him in time to find the pirates had honed in on his location. Engagements occurred between them as Pvt Wirral made for his escape. I had been recruited to muster a second rescue wing from the Arsenal he was to deliver the box to. With the good private located, I commanded the two pythons and the vulture with me to launch from the planet surface, and we made our path through the skies and back into open space. The usual comets of superluminal travel were in much greater numbers, and we immediately steered for the cluster. I interrupted the chattered cries over communications as one name in particular fell in my scanners. Gluttony Fang.
"Permission to Engage?"
"Please do."
'With pleasure' is what I thought in my mind as I hooked a tether onto his FSD and started to blast a stream from my interdictor. Fighting to break free, it took me longer than usual to pull him from supercruise. We dropped violently into normal space and came nose to nose as two more of my companions bounced in and surrounded his onyx Fer-de-lance. I opened hails with him and he responded in kind. He played stupid, hoping to buy his drive time to cool down from the stresses of the interdiction. I knew just what his ploy was, and kept him occupied in conversation and an offer for him to surrender. I'd sent off the pythons to continue assisting Pvt Wirral's escape, holding onto the vulture as a companion so I might still keep the better hand. Sensing that I was backing him into a corner, he offered a bribe of a few tons of coffee, dumping the canisters into my viewports while turning and burning for freedom. I gave pursuit out into Supercruise again and maxed out my engines for the Arsenal. Getting back in touch with Rescue Wing 1, a late report came that the cargo had been lost to one of the pirates, who was en route to his own contact. Swearing, I hustled back to the action, locking on a second king of thieves, this time the leader of the EIT. Throwing banter back and forth, I held him there ((and then let him go for the sake of the livestream and keeping it interesting)). I made one last leapfrog and dropped back to where I had begun, on the planet surface. We were waiting for a Cutter. It's not like you can just miss a ship that big. Waiting with two full wings circling over the towers of the base, we kept our eyes peeled. He never came. Or rather, he was already in the docks below, handing off the crackers for the Don's bounty. While we had saved our insider, we had lost the good the entire situation had revolved around. A shame really.
Short story longer, I have nearly doubled my fleet's strength since I began these logs now, and expanded my reach further beyond. The STARS slayer has proved a remarkable asset and is a solid second in my list of favorite ships. But I felt it was time for an upgrade. A major upgrade. A 146 million, 400 ton upgrade. That's right. I'm talking about a fighter-frigate. I sadly had to sell the Bradon's Cider to fund the purchase, but I believe the trade up was well worth it. Dubbing her the RES Nightbloom for her dark paint job and the current lack of upgrades, she will one day grow to blossom into a beautiful flower of fury and strength. I've already been able to expand her capacity to perform missions, but until the day she is fully operational, I will hold her in reserve and use her to transport high-value metals between markets for a hefty profit. I pray that day is sooner than later. If the day comes that I have the opportunity to trade up for the Federal Corvette though... I won't take a second thought about it.
Coralling my purchase with the newly released Viper Mk IV and the Cobra Mk IV, I brought my new ships back to the Paladin's base in LFT 37. I would say it was the Paladin's, but that's not entirely true. The lockdown proved not only ineffective, but detrimental to our posture in the system and in the view of the Pilot's Federation. It started out well at first; we were able to sow question in the people as to the Independent's ability to lead, protect, and control Savinykh hub. Against my advisement, the blockade carried on too long. There were a handful of commanders who slandered our name with performance not in line with Paladin values. I'm sure a slew of other factors affected it as well, but the Independents came out just barely on top. The 51% over our 49% as it were. Our organization was reeling from the blow, and for now, we are licking our wounds and gathering our strength. We will watch and wait and find our opportunity to push out again.
Leaving the state of home affairs to others in the Consortium, I turned my own attention out to other organizations. Though I may not be of any authority, I know how to create a favorable situation for us. We need allies. And I've been the face of our group in many places where others could see. In particular, I've focused in on fostering relations with the Hutton Truckers. Every good military needs a good economy to make up it's backbone, and while we have a strength about us, there are too many young members who need training, and too many old members with their eyes facing inward. An established and strong organization such as the Truckers will prove to bring us an ace in the hole in the future. I am certain of it.
I started working with the Truckers in the Gift for Giving event, running a few interdictions on interlopers who had less than charitable intents. No kills recorded. Still, I'm sure it gave each of them something to think about when they were trying to pull the same stunt. The starting days of the appeal weren't met with a great response, and I became concerned at how successful it would be. I requested the STARS Slayer be outfitted for gift hauling by my arrival, and made a simple swap of ships before flying to the south pole of the bubble. Meeting with CMDR Meishel, TH03BGT, cheesewhizh, and others, we worked in tangent to load each other up with full holds of the rare goods. The profits weren't grand, or so I thought. All I wanted was for new introductees to the Pilot's Federation to have an easier time with a free ship. That wasn't quite the case for me to return to at the end of a holiday vacation.
100 million in the pocket was certainly a gift I was quite well happy to see, and I knew just what I wanted to do with my newly inflated digital wallet. I set about hunting down the trader that I had sold the Bradon's Cider to. I am rather partial to each of the ships I own, and I wanted the old one back as opposed to slapping a version 2 on the end of a new Python. Sentimentality keeps the bloodlust from clouding judgement, if you can keep everything in balance. I followed his log through Imperial Space, up to Leesti where he'd called the space-life quits and sold the ship to a militia in the system of Armotai for a combat refitting. Determined to track down the Bradon's Cider and rather interested in following it's story while out of my possession, I made my way to the tiny mining colony there to find my ship. The local 'police', rough and rowdy as they were, had purchased her as a buffer to their defense forces. A sort of flagship to help strong-arm certain points when a bit of extra scare tactic was required to fend off pirates. An organized attack sparked a series of combat excursions that the python had led. In the third to last battle, her canopy had been broken and the pilot inside taken out by a shell. Scavengers in a tugboat had taken her from there, a common occurrence after a warzone. Their operation sold it to the Pilot's Federation in Shinrarta, where my trail ended in my prize. She was banged up and still in repairs, but I immediately bought her from the dealer and put the money in to finish up the patchwork and get her fitted for mining. I celebrated by spending a few hours in a prismatic metal asteroid field, just me, the python, and the limpet drones.
Now that I'm caught up on my adventures and life is returning to normal, I can hopefully get myself to keep up with these logs a bit better. Until next week's log, may your swords stay sharp and may you soar on dragon's wings!
Commander Brenner Soriah, logging off.