Hey! So let's get started with this new sci fi quest! Hope you like it!
Other Quests: http://pastebin.com/ySW8KAMD
In the far future, space travel has become mundane.
Once seen as an impossible dream, faster than light travel and space colonization have become everyday affairs. With the development of flux drives, humans, once shackled to their lone blue planet, initiated an explosive wave of expansion and growth, sparking a new golden age and uniting humanity under the single banner of the Terran Alliance.
Unfortunately, as is typical of humans, their pride proved to be their downfall. The Terran Alliance expanded too far and too fast. Within a few centuries, many of the outlying colonies began to wonder why they were taking orders from faceless masters on a distant planet. Unrest and discontent began to grow among the colonies. The Alliance, not ignorant of this problem, initiated many policies to try and solve the “separatist problem”, but none were successful. Finally, a grand conference was organized, where dignitaries from countless systems would meet to resolve their differences, all under the stewardship of the Alliance’s leadership.
It proved to be the site of the worst terrorist attack in human history.
With the Alliance’s leadership in shambles, countless revolutionaries used the situation as a pretext to break free from their faraway masters, sparking countless civil wars. This era was known as the Century of Strife, a period of bloody carnage were the once unified Alliance was fractured into countless pieces. When the dust finally settled, only three major blocs remained: the Terran Hegemony, the Centauri Accord, and the Confederation of Free Systems.
Despite high tensions, all three major galactic powers universally agreed that humanity’s home, the Sol System, would remain a special neutral zone to prevent the system from being destroyed in a bloody conflict. As such, the Sol System is run by an interim government consisting of representatives of all three blocs, with the system’s security handled by an independent security force. While nominally under the control of a joint committee of the three powers, the Sol System in reality is its own independent entity, more along the lines of a self sufficient city-state. All three powers maintain large embassies on Earth, which is the default location for negotiations and other diplomatic functions.
You just so happen to be a part of this independent Sol System, a ship captain of Sol Security, in fact, commanding one of its feared patrol destroyers.
And currently you were on the hunt for possible smugglers.
"Got a positive contact on sensors." Your Electronic Support Officer, Lida, announces. "No transponder signal, but it's definitely moving under power."
"Gotta be lawbreakers." Your Weapons Officer, Elsa, yawns as she rests her feet atop her control console. "No other reason they're flying dark."
"I agree." You First Mate, Bradford chimes in, clearly resisting the urge to scratch at his sweater on the bridge. You kinda wonder why he still wears that awful thing. "Ships on legitimate business have no reason to disable their transponders."
"You know, I think you guys are thinking about this too hard." Your Helmsman, Amy, shrugs. "Could just be technical trouble."
"You did try to contact them, right?" You turn to Lida.
"Of course." Lida says neutrally. "No response."
"Is she a match on the database?"
"She's a standard Starjumper-class freighter. It only has like, a 90% match with literally every other Starjumper ever made." Lida rolls her eyes. "It's the perfect camouflage, really."
"What's the call, Captain?" Bradford asks. "Legally, we can't stop and board a ship without probable cause. While the lack of a transponder is sufficient, we probably want more concrete proof if this ever goes to court."
>Maintain distance and keep trying to raise comms.
>Get closer and maintain a weapon lock and MAKE them respond.
>Screw regulation and open fire.
>Not worth it. Just let it go.
This quest is gonna be baller.
>Get closer and maintain a weapon lock and MAKE them respond.
>>Get closer and maintain a weapon lock and MAKE them respond.
Taking bets for how long until we become a Space Cowboy, and when this becomes a pseudo-space western.
Get closer on the pretext of rendering aid (no working transponder, no response to comms, running dark indicating possible computer/power failures), but keep the weapons lock and see how they respond.
So I'm guessing our entire crew is wearing skintight uniforms that double as emergency spacesuits.
"Get closer and get a weapon lock on them. Make sure they know it, too." You instruct as you lean forward from your command chair. "Helm, put us as 60% combat speed."
"Aye aye, Cap." Amy nods as she cracks her knuckles and gets a secure grip on the helm controls. "Closing the distance."
"Weps. How soon can we get a lock?" You turn to Elsa, who's finally gotten her feet off the console and is now putting all her attention on her targeting screen.
"Right now, Captain!" Elsa smiles with glee. On your own datascreen, you can see multiple red boxes form over the freighter, indicating your kinetic batteries and EMP emitter were locked and tracking.
"Transmitting standard query to the ship." Lida announces. "Still no response."
You glance at Bradford, who, rather than sit, remains standing, hands behind his back. He glances back at you and gives an almost imperceptible nod.
"All right." You sigh. "Call up Tank. Tell him to get ready to board."
"Flux surge!" Lida yelps. "They're powering up engines! They're trying to run!"
"Figured they would." Bradford shakes his head. "What do we do, Captain?"
You knew that a Starjumper was no match against an Enforcer-class destroyer, both in speed and in armament. Then again, that was assuming it was a stock freighter. Most smugglers liked to modify their ships to suit their needs, so who knows what it might be packing...
>Keep chasing. We need to board it and seize any possible evidence.
>Don't bother, just shoot them down.
>Let them go, it's not worth chasing.
No transponder so there's really no way for you to know at this stage!
While the thought of just blasting the fleeing freighter with your kinetic batteries was a tempting thought, you knew that you'd have hell to pay in the form of lots of paperwork and administrative scrutiny, ESPECIALLY if it turned out the ship was actually performing legitimate business.
"Helm, full combat speed!" You bark.
"Aye!" Amy nods as she pushes the throttle forward as far as it can go.
Even with the inertial dampeners, you can still feel the slight tug of G-forces when your patrol destroyer, the Selene, surges forward. The Starjumper, laden down with presumably full cargo bays, had no chance of getting away, even with upgraded engines.
You then hear a loud click over the radio, no doubt Tank checking in to see if he was clear to attempt boarding yet or not. He certainly was very singleminded when it came to that.
"All right, Tank, go for it." You reply.
Down below, you could see the boarding shuttle shoot out, rocketing towards the fleeing Starjumper. Thankfully, there was no defensive weapons fire. Most likely the owners decided to forego weapons for more cargo capacity or speed. The boxy shuttle clamps to the side of the freighter, where you know it will start to cut an access hole into the hull for the team of officers aboard to gain entry.
"They're still going at maximum speed." Bradford notes. "Perhaps we should fall back? Let them think they've gotten away?"
>Trust the boarding team to handle things from here.
>Keep up the pressure. The boarding team might need our support.
"Just keep up the pressure. They're not getting away anyways." You say simply.
The Starjumper freighter continues to try and flee, but out here in open space, there was nowhere for them to hide. You decide to keep an eye on Tank's team and activate his helmet camera, putting the feed on your main screen. Immediately, you could see Tank predictably leading the charge, pushing down a corridor with his massive riot shield. At the other end, you could see a few men dressed in civilian worksuits, firing rather ineffectually at Tank's armored shield. Tank's visor immediately analyzes the weapons. Chemically propelled kinetic projectiles. You frown. These losers couldn't even afford proper magnetic weaponry. No wonder they got caught so easily.
Suddenly, there's a loud CRUNCH and a scream. You see that Tank, in his usual enthusiasm, used his shield as a makeshift battering ram, slamming into one of the crewmen and crushing him against a bulkhead. The poor crewman screams before Tank slams him directly on the skull with his riot baton.
>Chastise Tank for excessive force.
>Leave him be. He hasn't had much to do lately.
>>Chastise Tank for excessive force.
I swear when this long day is done, we should go to the mess and get some coffee.
>Leave him be. He hasn't had much to do lately.
But tell him to ease up on the headshots. There's always a chance that some of those people might need to be interrogated, and it's really hard to interrogate a comatose or concussed person.
Pretty damn soon unless we get a major change in music themes.
Though I do have to wonder what our favoured sidearm is. Judging from what Merc said, it's probably a coilgun or a railgun.
"Tank." You sigh. "Dial it back on the physical force. We don't want them to be filing a complaint against us or anything."
There's a brief pause, before another click signifies his assent. He then makes a beeline for the ship's bridge. Big freighters like these, their crew areas were extremely simple, and comprised a small part of the overall ship. The boarding team places breaching charges on the security door protecting the bridge, while Tank sets up with his riot shield.
Having drilled endlessly, it's no surprise that the team charges in right when the breaching charges detonate. In the cramped bridge area, Tank and his men quickly rush in and start pulling dazed and disoriented crew away from their stations.
Another click over the comms from Tank, and a thumbs up in front of his camera. The ship was secure.
"Good job, everyone." You sigh as you finally lean back in your seat. "All right, let's get ready to-"
"Captain! Emergency wire!" Lida calls out. "It's... it's straight from HQ. They're requesting an immediate recall!"
"What?! Now?!" You groan. And you just pulled over a possible smuggler! What the hell were you going to do now?!
>No choice but to detain the crew and leave the ship. Hopefully salvage ships won't steal all the evidence.
>Detain the crew and scuttle the freighter.
>Tell HQ to piss off.
"UGGGGGH." You pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.
"Captain, I don't have to tell you that it's a bad idea to ignore a command straight from HQ-" Bradford says.
"I get it, Bradford." You wave off your First Mate. "Okay, here's what we do. Tank, round up the crew and bring them back to the ship for detainment ASAP. We'll handle the processing onboard."
Tank's helmet feed shakes up and down rapidly, signifying him nodding in assent.
"Helm, plot a jump back to Earth. Weps, once Tank is clear, take out the cargo bays with the kinetics."
"Sweet!" Elsa grins madly, happy at a chance to finally flex the Selene's muscles.
All in all, despite the rush, your crew manages to handle things very quickly and efficiently, with a course plotted and the detainees transferred under half an hour. Precision fire from the Selene's weapons batteries punches holes through the Starjumper's massive hull, breaching its cargo holds and setting off numerous secondary explosions as the high explosive shells detonate The freighter, whose true name you had never gotten the chance to learn, is a burning hulk by the time you make the FTL jump back to Earth.
You're left wondering what the hell is so important they had to call you back in the middle of a patrol.
"Captain Wellings." The Commissioner gives you a hard, but sympathetic look. "I know that you have had nothing but an exemplary service record..."
Oh shit. You knew it was bad when they opened up with how good you were in the past.
"Unfortunately, the Ruling Committee has decided that Sol Security's Patrol Program experiment will be brought to a premature end."
"Sir?" You blink in confusion. "What exactly does that mean?"
"The Committee feels that the Patrol Destroyers are excessively overarmed, and makes Sol Security look more like a military force rather than a law enforcement agency." The slight frown in the Commissioner's lip betrays his distaste with that reasoning. "In light of these concerns, and because of the high cost of maintaining these ships, it has been decided that the program will be closed, and all Patrol Destroyers will be decommissioned."
"And what about the crews?" You ask, your hands already balling into fists.
"Unfortunately, the Committee has also neglected to expand Sol Security, so all Patrol Destroyer crews will we discharged. I'm sorry, Wellings, but that means you're out of a job."
You're... you're not sure how to react to that.
>This is BULLSHIT!
>Well, I suppose it was nice while it lasted.
>>This is BULLSHIT!
YOU CAN'T SHUT DOWN OUR FUNDING, COUNCIL!
YOU'LL REGRET THIS! YOU'LL REGRET THIS WHEN THE SNEKS AND PECTOIDS SLITHER DOWN OUR STREETS UNMOLESTED!
So when is Tarin? Is merc ok? has he gon oversaturated with Tarin
>We are sam
I'm okay with this, would have liked it more if we went full vigilo confido and were just some unknown humanoid who everyone calls "Commander"
So this totally means that our fighter pilots keep their skintight suits (practical or not), right?
why ask? Nobody's complaining.
"This is BULLSHIT!" You scream as you temporarily lost your cool, and slam your palm on the Commissioner's desk, causing all of his little knickknacks to vibrate wildly. You briefly pause to look back to him. "...sir."
"I don't blame you, Wellings." The Commissioner gives a deep sigh. "It's just as much about money as it is about politics. There's not much I can do."
"So... so what do I do now?" You ask, fear and anxiety slowly bubbling up from your stomach up to your heart like a gooey black tar.
"Well, you can't stay in Sol Security, that's for sure." The Commissioner sighs. "But... there might be another way."
The Commissioner hastily scribbles down an address on a notepad and slips the small piece of paper to you.
"Sir?" You look at the address curiously. "What's this for?"
"You'll find a sort of... talent scout here. He's very well connected, so I'm sure he'll find a good place for your skills." The Commissioner explains. "And it also happens to be a bar. I'm sure you'll appreciate that."
>Thank you, sir.
I love how all the responses have 'something something' in them.
Last time I checked, Guilty Crown
I think it's a relic of the 50's and 60's Futuristic Aesthetic for their Sci-Fi.
>Thank you, sir.
So, should we be explorers, traders, mercenaries, pirates, or all of the above?
person who wore the suit is Tsugumi
I have no idea what this thread is, but have this pistol instead.
Piracy/privateering seems up our alley.
"Thank you, sir." You nod as you stash the card in your pocket.
"It's the least I can do." The Commissioner nods. "And just remember, your discharge won't be official until the program is formally shut down, so at least for the next few days, you're still an officer of Sol Security. Please try to conduct yourself appropriately."
"I'll keep that in mind, sir." You grin slightly.
"Other than that, you are free to go." The Commission says somewhat sadly as he salutes.
You return the salute and quickly make your exit.
As you stride out of HQ, somewhat sullen, you glance at the card again. The meeting spot is not too far, really, and quick Net search shows that it's in a rather secure area of the city, too. Nothing too shady. Still...
>Going alone should be fine.
>Maybe you should bring some backup...
>Maybe you should bring some backup...
Your instincts were telling you that you should bring some backup. Maybe one of your bridge crew could work. They were all dependable enough, in their own ways. However, you do agree that you should probably only bring one of them, so as to not risk spooking this "talent scout".
Bradford: First Mate. Highly dependable and very rules oriented. He's also been in a few scraps before, but he tends to stand out like a sore thumb.
Tank: Security Chief. Very strong and very skilled at combat, but tends to be extremely aggressive and stands out even more than Bradford.
Amy: Helmsman. Generally dependable and has a strong sense of justice, and her sharp senses and instincts are great at spotting danger, but not really much of a fighter.
Elsa: Weapons Officer. Like Amy, Elsa has sharp senses, but is also pretty decent in a fight. Tends to slack off a lot, though.
Lida: Very intelligent, and good with tech, but not really a fighter and tends to be stuck in her own world at times.
We have an outfit for everything!
Something when we talk to dignitaries or are otherwise in public, an outfit for when we're on the bridge, and an outfit for any computer interfaces we need access to (plus being an emergency environmental suit)
A quick call to Bradford, and he's already waiting at the front door of the meeting point well before you reach it yourself. You kind of wonder how he got there so fast. And, to your eternal exasperation, he's STILL wearing that silly green sweater of his, as you feared. He wasn't going to fit in at ALL.
Urgh. He was always like this since you first met him. Always by the numbers.
"Captain." Bradford straightens to attention. "So what's the plan?"
>Have him accompany you directly.
>Have him observe from a distance.
>Have him wait outside until you call for him.
>not wanting the simple threat to be communicated by the very name of our ship
When you're a pirate, sometimes you want to run away, sometimes you want to deal, and sometimes you want to scare them.
A name should do all those things, not just say "fuck you" to everyone. I mean "Make My Day" doesn't really apply to a dreadnaught.
Always Outnumbered, Never Outgunned
Fist of an Angry God
Hammer of Eternity
Lady in Red
Lord of Flies (Carrier)
No Gods, No Masters
Sin ‘n’ Gin
A Brilliant Plan to Win the War Involving a Coathanger, Three Nails, Two Balloons and a Pack of Bubblegum. Trust Me On This Guys, This Time It Will Work Mk. XIV
Andromeda or Bust
All The Good Names Were Taken
Burn The Women, Rape the Fields, Salt the Houses
Don't Fuck With Us. We Will Feel Bad About It Afterward. You Won't.
Don't Worry, It Happens To A Lot Of Warships
Even In The Future Nothing Works
The Flying Fuck
Hastur Hastur Hastur
I don't fucking know, computer! Now stop fucking pestering me to name the ship you warty cunt! Oh fuck, how do I change this? Undo, undo! Look, we've all said some things that you're going to regret. Imma name this here ship Jenny after mah wife. She's old, ugly and all the important bits don't work no more. Shit, is this thing on?
If You Can Read This, You May Be Only Light-Seconds From Death
If You're Reading This, Then We've Just Successfully Stalled You For A Few Crucial Seconds
Invincible Mk. XVII
It Came Free With The Apocalypse
The King In Yellow Paint
Kiss My Gravitas
Litany of Litany’s Litany
More Gravitas Than You Can Handle
Never Mind, Just A Sensor Blip
Nice Once You Get to Know Her
Ninety-Eight Percent Airtight
No Longer Under Warranty
Nobody Here But Us Asteroids
Okumoros (Greek word meaning “Destined for a short life”)
Look At Me, I’m Flying
Roses Are Red
Violets Are Blue
Your Ship Is On Fire
And Now So Are You
Seriously What's the Worst That Could Happen
She’s One of Ours, Sir
Sir We Just Lost Life Support
Something More Comfortable
Space Age Love Song
Terrified of Can Openers
That Windmill Went For a Gun, I Swear
This Side Up
Tough Times Call For Tough Cannons
USS Benedict Arnold
Victory in Less Than Thirty Minutes or Your Megatons Are Free
We Got The Bang, You Bring The Whimper
We Brake For No One
We’re Here About A Noise Complaint
We’re Totally Legit
Yes, Ladies, It Is This Big
You Are All So Boned
You May Have God On Your Side But We Have His Smite Button On Ours
You'd Think A Police State Would Have Stricter Gun Control
Aaaaand that's all I have.
>ship names in the old Halo lore
God those were great.
>Two for Flinching
>Ready or Not
>Heart of Midlothian
>Do You Feel Lucky
(yes, those two are two different ships)
>Unto the Breach
>Say My Name
>Dawn Under Heaven
>Song of the East
If you're gonna be shooting, might as well be direct about it.
Schlock Mercenary also have many good Ship Name.
from Killer Koala Race:
Scimitar of Irreparable Damage
Staff of Unyielding Order
Cloak of Untrammeled Dignity
Spear of Incalculable Agony
Sword of Indomitable Righteousness
Spear of Intoxicating Agony
Sceptre of Unrelenting Pain
"Just stick close to me and look as menacing as you can, Bradford." You say simply. "You don't need to speak or anything. Got it?"
"Of course, Captain." Bradford nods dutifully.
You nod in acknowledgement and take one more look at the meeting point. It was one of those high class bars. The sort of place that business types or politicians would choose to stop by during their lunch breaks. Lots of glass everywhere, with smooth, curved shapes along the walls, white coloring, bright lighting, and extremely pretentious art everywhere.
You ignore all of it and make a beeline for the booth at the very back corner, where you see a man wearing a dark suit, his arms stretched out casually along the top of the neighboring seats. His face was also partially covered by a large black fedora, but you could make out a cat-like smile on his face.
"Captain Samantha Wellings." He says, not as a question, but a statement.
"That's me." You nod.
"And you brought a bodyguard too." The scout's grin goes wider. Expected, but not necessary. As you can see, I'm not armed at all."
"But you could have compatriots." Bradford frowns as his head swivels around like a security camera.
"No, I don't have anything like that. Too much overhead!" The scout laughs. "Would either of you like drinks? It'll be on my tab."
"No thanks. I don't drink on duty." Bradford shakes his head.
>I could really use a freaking drink.
Here's what happens; the bridge crew gets stupidly drunk while renaming the ship and one of these happens. When they sober up, everyone denies suggesting it but the ships already been painted, so they're stuck with it and perpetually embarrassed by it.
Then we should provide strict instructions to prevent such mistakes.
"Let's make a deal first before we celebrate it with a drink." You say before sitting down across from the talent scout.
"Understandable." The scout nods. "Well, let's get to the meat of the matter, shall we? You're very quickly going to be out of a job, or else you wouldn't be coming to see me."
"That's right." You nod. "I wanted to hear what you would have to say."
"Well, you're in luck!" The scout smiles. "SolSec may bet cutting back, but the Hegemony, Accord, and Confederation are all looking for experienced and skilled ship captains!"
"Why?" You frown.
"Well, for various reasons." The scout shrugs casually. "But mainly, they're all aiming to expand into the Frontier, and to do that, they need more captains willing to fly into the unknown."
"So you're saying, that we become military dogs for one of the three powers?" Bradford asks in an accusing tone.
"Hey, it's not so bad, really." The scout laughs. "Full benefits, instant commission, a brand new ship, and good pay! The only catch is you gotta follow orders from some schmuck a million light years away!"
"And if I'm not interested?" You raise an eyebrow.
"Well now, there are... other ways." The scout slides a datapad to you. Bradford is quick to snatch it up before you can.
"What the..." Bradford glares at the scout. "Where did you get this!?"
"I have my ways." The scout shrugs smugly.
"What is that?" You turn to Bradford.
"The security override codes for the Selene." Bradford grimaces. "There's only one reason why we'd be given these..."
"Hey, I didn't say anything!" The scout chuckles. He then produces a black business card from his white gloved fingers. "This will get you all of the embassies. You can meet my contacts there for further information.
The three factions are Terran Hegemony, the Centauri Accord, and the Confederation of Free Systems, which do we think this guy's from and which should we be siding with?
He's clearly a government employee.
The Hegemony is by far the largest of the fragmented human territories, maintaining control over most of the original colonies and a few of the outer colonies. Such control was maintained thanks to the Hegemony retaining most of the military power of the old Terran Alliance, quickly and swiftly bringing numerous systems under martial law to stem the tide of rebellion and civil war. Though the martial law has long been lifted, the Hegemony’s tight control over its population remains, with citizens living under a regime of high security and high surveillance.
In terms of government, the Hegemony is run by a singular Hegemon. However, due to security reasons, the exact process of choosing a Hegemon, and even the Hegemon’s actual identity, are kept secret. The Hegemon projects its power through the Hegemon’s Military Governors, who control their own appointed sectors of Hegemony space and run the day to day affairs. The Hegemon’s rules are absolute and unquestionable, giving the Hegemony great strategic flexibility. However, on the tactical level, high controls, a general conservative attitude, and a sprawling bureaucracy make individual Hegemony units slow to react to crises.
The Hegemony’s pride and source of power lie in its powerful fleets, of which are the largest in Terran space. However, the Hegemony Fleet’s massive size is a bit misleading. Due to mistrust of exotic technologies and the logistical pressures of maintaining a large fleet, most of the Hegemony Fleet’s ships are extremely old, with many of them dating back to service with the Terran Alliance. Most Hegemony ships are not armed with the latest shields and energy weaponry, mostly focusing on heavy armor and kinetic weapons to brute force their way through obstacles. In this aspect, the Hegemony remains a force to be reckoned with.
Could... could it be?
Escape Velocity, Merc Command edition?
THE CENTAURI ACCORD
In the wake of the Terran Alliance’s dissolution, many of the Alliance’s remaining leaders evacuated to the relative safety of Alpha Centauri, the emergency capital. Despite the failure of the Alliance, its former leaders were determined to keep alive its original ideals of democratic rule and freedom for all under its banner, forming the Centauri Accord. The Accord is the second largest Terran faction. While the accord is united under a single government, the Accord uses a republican style system where each planet and system is equally represented, and there is great stress on maintaining the average citizen’s rights and personal freedoms.
Unlike the Hegemony, the Accord is run by a Senate consisting of representatives from member planets and systems under the Accord. While this ensures that no single planet or system can exert undue influence over the others, this does make it difficult for the Accord to commit to any singular action or policy. However, the Accord’s general liassez faire policies have attracted many powerful intergalactic megacorporations and trade unions, making the Accord an economic powerhouse that eclipses even the Hegemony in scale.
Despite the size of the Accord’s holdings, the general anti-war attitude of its constituents and the reluctance of the Accord to institute conscription or compulsory military service means the Accord’s military forces are extremely small. To counteract this, the Accord has leveraged its economic strengths to invest in technologies to maximize every available soldier they have. Generally, the Accord has the most advanced energy weapon and shielding, as well as the heavy emphasis on automation and robotic drones to perform most menial and dangerous tasks. In addition, due to the Accord’s belief that shields and active protection systems are the best defense, Accord ships generally have much weaker physical armor than their Hegemony and Confederate counterparts.
THE CONFEDERATION OF FREE SYSTEMS
After the dissolution of the Terran Alliance, many of the systems on its outermost fringes were the first to break away. Tired of what was in their eyes the iron fisted tyrannical rule of the Alliance, these systems decided to forego a powerful central government, but still recognized the value of common defense. This was when the Confederation, or more commonly known as the Confederacy, was born. In terms of volume of territory, Confederation space actually eclipses even that of the Hegemony, though most of this space is largely sparsely populated, if even populated at all.
Unlike the centrally governed Hegemony and Accord, the Confederacy has no central leadership whatsoever, with each individual system being its own sovereign entity with its own laws and customs. The only thing in common that Confederacy systems agree to is mutual defense. If one Confederacy member is attacked, it is considered an attack on all of them. Other than that, systems in the Confederacy mostly keep to themselves, with unrestricted trade and travel.
Lacking the military might of the Hegemony and the economic power of the Accord, the Confederacy often resorts to whatever is locally available. As such, Confederacy ships tend to be rather ramshackle and unique. These ships are often captured or salvaged Accord or Hegemony craft, or in some cases, amalgamations of multiple ships. This makes every Confederacy ship something of a wild card that makes their performance and tactics frustratingly difficult for planners, and even the ship’s own crew, to predict. Confederacy ships also rely on speed and maneuverability for their defense, installing oversized or overpowered engines in order to dodge or outrun enemy attacks.
"Really? I could join any of the three?" You look at the card with suspicion. "Just.. who ARE you?"
"Just a simple independent talent scout!" The man laughs.
You look at him suspiciously and then back to Bradford.
>I'm ready to make a decision.
>I need to pass this by my crew first.
>I need to pass this by my crew first.
Though, just spitballing here....
The Confeds would seem like they would be in the most need for a skilled crew with an advanced ship at their disposal, but monetary rewards might be sparse. Though they might offer some unique customization options or possibly armor/weaponry/ammo in lieu of actual money.
The Centauri Accord would probably have the best material awards, but their reliance on drones and robots make me think that they're going to have us doing very dangerous and/or tedious missions. Might have to look out for contracts meant to lock down mercenaries in crippling debt, too.
Hegemony may pretty much be like the Centauri Accord, but with more beating up rebel scum.
I want to beat up rebel scum.
Being on the Federation side sounds nice.
So what sort of Gunslinging captain do you think we'll be?
>The Trick Shooter that can ricochet shots, or shoot a silver coin tossed into the air.
>The Duelist that can outdraw anyone, or unload multiple shots from revolver fanning
>The Marksman with really good accuracy
Welcome to the Space Western Genre.
"why do you need a lever action on a railgun?"
Either a Duelist or Marksman.
Accords seems a great place if you are a merchant but kinda questionable if you are a military type. I mean, from Merc description, we might need to deal with pacifist BS.
On the other hand FUCK YOUR SHIT levels of firepower will be available.
Okay, let's all agree that no matter what, we get put in the Confederacy territory.
For the space western aspect. We don't have to be on the confederacy's side to be in their territory.
I don't want to be in the civilized part of space. I want to be on the raggedy edge.
The Confeds, being the most desperate, will try to screw us over the least. The other two are more powerful and more prone to corruption, it wouldn't be long until we bacame disposable.
But I'm also ok with this >>44831415
>ships are extremely old
>not armed with the latest shields and energy weaponry
>focusing on heavy armor and kinetic weapons
Dare I hope?
Right cause a bunch of unorganized rebels are really not going to get into infighting and not have cultural issues with each other that will flair up due to a lack of organization and discipline.
That's in addition to our main gear.
They aren't unorganized rebels. They're organized along planet boundaries. Each planet has a lot more sway in its own rule. And likely there will be groups of nearby planets within it that band together due to shared interests.
It seems like we're going to be put on to the edge of space no matter where we go.
>"Well, for various reasons." The scout shrugs casually. "But mainly, they're all aiming to expand into the Frontier, and to do that, they need more captains willing to fly into the unknown."
It's just a matter of:
>FOR GLORIOUS MOTHERLAND, AND TO CRUSH FILTHY REBEL SCUM!
>TO BOLDLY GO WHERE NO-ONE HAS GONE BEFORE, PLUS UNTAPPED PROFIT AND RESOURCES!
>PERIPHERY FOREVER! ALSO, GET THE HELL OFFA MY LAWN!
While that could happen, if they have any connection to the real confederacy, then the politics are going to be even worse than either the not!empire or the not!Federation.
But that might be my blinding hatred of the south talking.
Marksman could always get bonuses with rifles.
Spincocking, sawn-off rifles, sniper rifles
Anon, you are being twenty-five kinds of retarded.
That pic is Starcraft fanart. Look at the ships on it. They're Behemoth-class Battlecruisers.
It's being used to give a visual shorthand for the kind of sci-fi their portion of the setting will be.
Dude, you are grasping so hard at those straws that it's actually pretty funny.
A working system thats bullshit. Can you imagine the horse shit that not having a united and working central authority can be when they get attacked. Hell the old Confederacy had to send press gangs into its towns cause some of the governors thought conscription was akin to slavery. Thats not taking into account the personal hatred between the various governors and those in high command.
"This... I would need to pass this by my crew first." You mumble.
"Of course, this is an important decision, after all!" The scout tips his fedora to you. "Until we meet again, Captain Wellings."
You watch as the talent scout saunters his way out of the bar.
"Should I follow him, Captain?" Bradford asks as he tracks him.
"No, that won't be necessary." You sigh. "Call the rest of the crew. We've got a decision to make."
Barely an hour later, and you and your crew are all assembled in the Selene's mess hall, really the only private place you could think of. You sit in one of the assembled chairs, trying not to show your exhaustion. Meanwhile, Bradford and Tank both stand loyally behind you. Amy, Elsa, and Lida are present, as well as your Chief Engineer Scott and Ship Doctor Natalia.
"Well, everybody, I'm sure Bradford told you why we're all here." You sigh. "You've probably heard by now that the Selene will be decommissioned and we'll all be discharged."
Nervous murmurs pick up in the room.
"Anyways, we've received an employment offer. Or, more accurately, three." You hold up the black business card. "It looks like the Hegemony, Accord, and Confederacy are hiring. So there's a pretty big job market out there. However, there is a fourth option..."
Bradford then reveals the datapad.
"That datapad has all of the Selene's security overrides. If we wanted, we could just take this ship, fly it out, and make for best speed to the Frontier. But, as you know, that will basically put us on EVERYBODY's blacklist."
The mess hall is silent.
"Look, the call is mine to make, but I won't do it without hearing you all out first." You sigh. "So, give it to me."
"I say we go with the Hegemony." Bradford says. "They run the tightest ship around here, and can keep order in their territories."
Did you guys not read the part about how the Confederacy is only united by mutual defense? Beyond a system sending military aid to other confederate systems there is no implication of an overarching Confederate government. Think of each confederate system as its own city-state.
"Accord! Always wanted to try my hand a heavy duty ion cannon!" Elsa says happily.
"Accord. The got the best tech." Lida nods as she taps away at whatever portable game she's playing right now.
"I'd go with the Confederacy. They got the fastest ships this side of the galaxy!" Amy nods. "Can cover 12 parsecs in no time flat!"
"Ah, well, I don't really have an opinion..." Scott chuckles nervously. "They've all got pretty neat design philosophies I can learn a lot from..."
"Ehehehehe, maybe we SHOULD go pirate." Natalia chuckles. "We'd no longer be tied down by petty 'laws' and 'ethics.' I could carry out my experiments with no limitations..."
You then turn to Tank, who just nods to you. He trusts any decision you make.
>Join the Hegemony
>Join the Accord
>Join the Confederation
>Yeah, the problems are much worse.
The problems are inherent to any empire there. It's just that the Confederacy embraces it and makes the system work with this being the case, not trying their best to ignore it.
>>Join the Confederation
uhh yes, hence why i said its like US without Feds and one anon say its like NATO.
Now you talking about City-States, now i also remember City-States of Jownston.... but hey, we are the hero here. It'd work somehow.
>Join the Confederation
>I love having the metaphorical cock of either some random dickbag who was selected through secretive esoteric means or the various megacorps which have less corporate ethics than EA up my ass than not have the safety blanket of mummy big gubmint there
Face it anon, you saw Starcraft fanart, only noticed the stars and bars, got triggered, and are now trying desperately to justify your butthurt.
ALL RIGHT, VOTING IS CLOOOOOOSED.
Wait a minute while I count up all the votes.
Aw hell, Loki's gonna be the ship's cat won't he?
I wonder if she'll be an alien, an orphan, a science experiment, or all of the above?
>inb4 we have find and adopt a
>inb4 we raise him to be
Space Pirate Captain Harlock
And just like that, you find yourself sitting in a secure room inside the Centauri Accord's Sol Embassy. It was... pretty interesting. The whole building was a large white spire, with lots of holograms and blue lighting, giving it a very electronic feel, like the the whole building was basically a giant device of some sort. And even though you were inside what is essentially a holding cell, you could tell that great attention and detail was paid to ergonomics. The room wasn't square, but was actually round, with the total absence of hard edges anywhere. Even the furniture was smooth and curved, and this chair had to be the most comfortable fucking chair you've ever sat in in your life.
And then the door slides open, a white haired woman wearing a blue military uniform with a bust a bit too large and skirt just a bit too short walks in, and sets a datapad down on the table.
"So, Captain Wellings, I see that you have an interest in joining the Centauri Accord Navy?" The officer asks with a smug catlike grin that kind of reminds you of the talent scout's. "I'm Colonel Froylatia, by the way. It's a pleasure to finally meet you."
"That's right." You nod and then pause. "Were you expecting me?"
"In a way. There's been a huge influx of new hires due to the recent... 'changes' at SolSec." Froylatia smiles as she flips through her datapad. "Hmmmm... your service record in SolSec is exemplary. Flawless, even. However, I do want to ask you a few more questions before we confirm you commission."
"And what would they be?"
"Well, they're going to be rather personal. Background check reasons, you see." Froylatia smiles as she leans in closer to you. "First, tell me. Why did you want to go to space?"
>I just wanted to see what was out there.
>There was a job that had to be done.
>To tell truth, I'm just running away.
God dammit. We just had to go and join the ipod faction.
Now we're gonna be on a ship that only has one button, and we have to perform complex inputs on it in order to do anything.
>I just wanted to see what was out there.
It could be worse. We could be stuck with imperialistic autism filling out literal paperwork in space, in triplicate, every time we leave a system and every time we enter a system.
Okay, so we started off with a Destroyer as a ship, so we at least have some (in-character) experience with that class of ship.
If the time ever comes, should we stay with the Destroyers, or jump to a larger class of ship