graf of grafmanitou

fiat justitia ruat caelum

Commander’s Log – 01 JAN 3301 01:31

I’ve fallen in with the Crimson Boys. Folks who understand about making ones own way in the dark. And who don’t sympathize with the simpering fools who figure people are owed just for being whelped. It was the old man who put me onto them. We were commiserating over our cups, and of course that led to politics. Turns out he was on Alioth when the Alliance declared the independents, and signed onto a Q-ship right at the start of the Independence War. He remembered some of the crew he fought with, and their children, and it turns out they were living large at the edge of Alliance space amid a cluster of Independents. A lot of things changed in the last 70 years, but out there (he said) folks still valued their freedom: free of taxes, free of oppressive rules, free of bureaucracy. It sounded like a place I wanted to be, people I could relate to.

Traveler carried me across the frontier systems to Alliance space where the Crimson Boys made their nest: Maringpho. I traded a bit, and scouted out systems along the path. The Boys gave me good coin for the info, and I did a few missions for them in Maringpho and their neighborhood. They’re tight with the Alliance, and the local commissioner has certified me as Trailblazer, meaning I’ve taken more than 1.2 million credits from him for surveying systems in the near dark.

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The Boys have also profited immensely from the crap I’ve found out there, and have been quite pleased with me as a partner. In short, I’ve made myself a home with a new family. And now I’m getting Traveler ship-shape for a long haul into the void. My mission: identify and relay back to the Boys and the Alliance earth-like worlds and metallic celestials that will make me rich and strengthen the Alliance.

Commander’s Log – 05 DEC 3300 23:51

Touchdown. I’ve docked after eleven days spinward and above the galactic plane in an area little charted. I reached HIP 60510, my original target destination, before I refueled at its G-class star and headed back to Lie Zhonpon. Of course, this was by way of Spica, so my circuit of several hundred light years included the surveying of more than three dozen systems.

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I continue to find wreckage and what appear to be stashed of parties unknown. I didn’t return to LZ empty-handed. Indeed, more military and research datacores filled my hold, yielding a cool 50K. I thought the old fart would have a coronary or something!

As for the astrocartographical information I gathered? Well, let’s just say I can afford a better class of scanners now. Seven Earth-like worlds, and scores of metal rich locations, paid a pretty penny. All in all, an amazing trip, some incredible sights, and a some financial security.

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And, by the way, there are plenty of pirates out there. Ran into three who managed to take me out of frameshift. It was the last bloody thing they ever did. Traveler can defend herself quite well. Which reminds me, I wonder if the hangar monkeys have finished the new orange rattler paintjob…

Commander’s Log – 26 NOV 3300 22:21

I’m sitting beneath a great mantle of stones and ice, rings around a violet gas giant in a system I thought had never before been visited by Man.

How naïve.

In my hold sit six computer cores I’ve scooped up nearby after stopping to investigate distinctly unnatural scraps of metal and plastic. The amber readout Traveler is presenting indicates detailed reports of Federation fleet movements and OOBs. One even provides Fed dockyard specifications for newer capital ship construction. The circuits are clearly Imperial.

If I’m caught with this…

Ok, I’ll head straight for hidey-hole and see if the geezer has an interest. I think I can trust him. I mean the type – this must be worth something to someone out here, and I can just see the cred signs in his eyes. Couldn’t give a rat’s ass whether Feds or Imps blast each other to shit, it’s just one set of rules or another. I’ve got bills to pay, and I’m sure they don’t give a rat’s ass about me!

Supplemental: I met the old man. He gave me a knowing look, but wouldn’t spill, even with a bottle of celebratory Solar single malt split between us. Which I can afford now – he forked over 35,000 creds for the m-intel. Best I could make out, Feds and Imps regularly play the cold war out here in the dark, and in this case someone lost. So I win. Better watch my back and fly cold.

Commander’s Log – 25 NOV 3300 21:52

This has been an eventful several days. 27 light years from Coratha I finally ran into some old codger at a ramshackle outpost who was willing to take the trade data. We shared some stories, and after some liquid persuasion he mentioned an art smuggler who owed him big that hadn’t been seen in weeks. Got the impression this guy kept house spinward, not too far from the outpost, away from Fed space. I stocked up, refueled and, making sure the sensor suites were baseline, I took a two day journey through seven systems I figured might hold some sign of this art smuggler.

I was into the fifth system before I found the wreck. Nine pieces of some inexplicable artwork floating amidst fibrecarbon and shattered hull. No sign of a body. By this time I had accumulated data on seven stars, twenty two planets and a half dozen asteroid belts. I figured it was time to head back to the outpost, which I did. On the way I ran into a Python that pulled me out of supercruise, but he didn’t have my speed and I didn’t stick around to have a chat.

Back at the outpost the codger forked over 26,000 creds for the pretentious crap I picked up, not without some badgering from me, mind you. That and another 17,000 for the cartographic data made me a nice little cushion. I’ve decided I will hang about here: the folks are friendly enough and not too anal about paperwork or where stuff comes from. The place is right at the edge of settled space. Upspin from here is all unmapped and with my rig I can probably make a go of it. In fact, as I record this I’m floating above a metal rich rock orbiting a supernova at 300ls, which is pretty damn close! Quite a sight that star filling the horizon. I’m hitting the napcabin now, but when I wake it’ll be deeper into the dark.

Commander’s Log – 23 NOV 3300 23:10

I’ve gone through Traveler’s manual, sold the obsolete celestial scan unit, and made my first foray into deep space beyond my home system.

The intermediate discovery scanner works like a charm. I visited five nearby systems: one with only a stellar body, three with plenty of low value frozen or rocky planets, but one with four mineral rich planets and an Earth-like world!

But not without cost. There are plenty of vagabonds out here, and while I managed to elude several interdiction attempts, one bastard in another Cobra yanked me from supercruise and proceeded to take down my shields! He messed with the wrong pilot. It’s not for nothing I operated split-miners in Coratha system, dodging and chasing down fast-moving ore-rich ‘roids in erratic and chaotic orbits. I opened his cockpit to the cold of space before he could do the same to me, and I left him and his wreck to drift in emptiness forever. A cold satisfaction, there. And five thousand creds for the pleasure, too. Bugger was wanted.

I also found abandoned trade data near a wreck I discovered in the system with the Earth-like world. Scooped it up, then hauled ass to the nearest port of call, a high-tech manufacturing system that promptly identified the stuff as stolen and slapped me with a 17 thousand cred fine! All my arguments and yelling came to nothing. I don’t think they like me much there anymore – I didn’t pay the fine, kept the load and I’ll sell the stuff where it’ll be appreciated.

Meantime, I visited Universal Cartographics (UC) there and left their office 40K richer. Now that I could, had the hangar chief bolt a point defence system to Traveler. That Cobra I met used missiles, and I don’t want to experience those again at close range!

I’ll crash here for a while, and then see if I can offload my hot cargo…

Commander’s Log

3300-11-22, Coratha – Today I stepped onto Traveler for the first time. It’s hard to describe what I was feeling: elation, trepidation, pride.

It’s a battered old FdL Cobra 3, fitted for range and scan. Room for 18 standard cargo containers. Decent sensor suite. A couple of small pulse laser guns. For some reason an old and a new celestial scan system. But I’m not complaining; the price was good. Meaning I had just enough beans saved up after selling my place on Korzun Platform!

XSo now I can get off this tin can factory my parents call home and make a mark. Post-secondary? Pfah, not for me. Who was it said “I won’t let school get in the way of my education”? Some old Terran coot, I think, and I figure the same. I want open space, not dusty, oily, classrooms!

But first, the FdL Cobra MkIII manual and my first pre-flight check…

Commander Graf Stefan

Coalescence

The Premium Beta for the game Elite: Dangerous will begin May 30. Perhaps I will log my experiences here as a pilot in an emergent, and virtual, 400 billion star galaxy. IC, of course: Graf Stefan, Cobra pilot and explorer, hedonist and conceited pseudo-philosopher.

Galaxy, here I come.

Hello internets

Testing. WIP, and still reading the manual!