NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC : Komokom's first RP time here on NS forums, really. This is for Doc's ZMI account only people, and I hope this post is okay for you Doc. IRC or tele this account if you have any questions, I'm using Komokom's for something other right now. I'm not joking about the specs I need, either, you've not put any detail on the page silly, at least not enough for me. And if any one else is wondering, no, that insulin generation science may not be correct, as I'm all the same too tired to go check it over, but I know the basics and can always fix it up later, as I likely will. There. Now, on with the show. And yes, this was a perfect opportunity for me to get my bio-fuel concept in print ... heh.

Smart Email @ ZMI Central Recieving Dept, Level 349, The Ziggaraut, Zone One, Megacity One, Earth.

Re : Priority Bulk Order ZMI Goods and Services + Technical Inquiry

Dear ZMI Central Recieving Dept,

After examination of your online catalogue, The Directorate of This United State here-by informs you we wish to make immediate order of the following items within your inventory for purchase and delivery to T.U.S. Mars Orbit unless goods are of a planetary nature, in which event delivery should be made to the Military District of the London Dome Space-Port, T.U.S.

1 x Enforcement Class station

2 x Medium Missile Platform ( To be slaved into EC station fire control )

250 x Scuttler MDC all with under-slung 40mm Grenade System

As well as Support Service Warranty for all these items above if not included as standard, for no less then a period of 10 ( TEN ) years after delivery to be factored into price.

We are also interested in purchasing 5 to 10 ( Quantity not yet defined ) " Storm Moon " Battle Sats to slave into the Enforcement Class station Fire Control systems, and 5 to 10 ( Quantity not yet defined ) " Arch Angel " Orbital Deterent's to also slave into the Enforcement Class station Fire Control systems. How-ever, we require further technical data on these two items before we can confirm such an order for purchase. Again, please factor in a 10 year Support Service Warranty for these products once we establish quantities to be purchased in the future

We may also require Modification to any and all orbital systems once purchased and we alert you to the fact that we would require your technical experiance and staff to carry out such modifications on site, in the near future, post delivery.

Please be aware we require these items fully operational and delivered as soon as possible for ZMI to do so, and are willing to pay the premium rates for such premium service for what are no doubt to be premium goods we expect to take delivery of.

Please reply A.S.A.P. with any questions or comments as well as the requested technical data and once you've established our credit.

We hope to do business with you soon, regards,

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v478/komokom/re.jpg
Clarice Oshanko, T.U.S. Defense Director
By Command of T.U.S. CEO T.R. Kom.

[SENT]

It was done, T.R. Kom had verified the email and fired it off into the system, its destination some inspired looking structure back on Earth, from what the public net had shown after a quick scan.

Now he'd finally done it, with any luck, they''d just made not only another positive trade contact, an important thing for a Corporate entity to do, not to mention a Commercial Trade Port and Gate-Way into Mars but haad also secured some real hard-core security for This United State, its way of life, and, most important as far as T.R. Kom cared, its economy.

Granted, the goods would be pricey as all heck, in fact, they were pricey as all heck, but T.R. Kom, and D.D. Clarice Oshanko, ( If for some-what different reasons ) wanted both fire-power and quality, and this looked to be the way to go. As big a dent, in fact, as big a chunk, as it would blow off the Defense Directorate budget, they could actually affored it. Which was a special event in itself because of why they could afford it with-out the usual great strain such a purchase would cause, namely T.R. Kom having to use the slush fund to keep Clarice happy and the account balanced.

It had been the Copaifera that had done it, in fact an old earth gene template from the plant, which originated from the now near-dead Amazon Basin ecology, which that had fattened the national slush fund over-all quite nicely. When T.U.S. Inc. had bought out the little bio-research company back on Earth to get at its data-stores, they were surprised by the wealth of South American plant templates that had been sequenced out and stored, along with preserved DNA cultures. So many in fact, not all were yet 100 % investigated, but they all looked very promising indeed.

It hadn't taken a tech team long once they'd formulated and examined simulations to work out what to do with it, and that in itself had been a stroke of genius.

In old times, insulin production for diabetics had once come from altering certain bacteria cells into creating and storing it within their miniture tissues and organelles, while these special bacteria would be propogated in a bio-reactor, then techs would empty out the bacteria cells from the bio-reactor, and chemically attack them to break them apart and liberate the pure insulin, which of course was filtered out of he slush of dead cells. Of course it killed the cells, but you could grow new bacteria from stocks, and you got what you needed in an easy to replicate manner in a short enough period of time if you ran an array of the reactors. Now days T.U.S. and most other nation's medical tech was beyond such base things, but the theory-data remained in the public data-vaults for medical students and the interested techs to examine. And of course, bio-reactors were still around for a host of other less ... nice, things ... more-often then not.

What the T.U.S techs had done was devise a method to grow modified Copaifera cells to increase generation of the compounds that made them so very special.

It was, one of the few, if not only Earth plants to generate harvestable hydrocarbons in a sap like oil that almost perfectly impersonated diesel fuel oil down to the very molecular level of the original.

It hadn't taken the techs long to acquire access to and to use an New London Industrial Complex to create Larger Scale Bio-Reactors linked to Chemical Treatment and Filtration Systems to mass-produce the compound in a parallel array. Materials such as the usual commercial wastes and run-off contained enough components to work as a " food " for the cells, and after the first week of calibration runs, the results had proven the concept by the barrel. Quite a few, in fact.

It was perfectly " Green " generated Diesel fuel oil, once the system was established, with the extra benefit of reducing wastes going into traditional disposal methods. While burning such a thing was never wonderful for the environment around it, it still went a fair way to reducing wastes, and that alone was a good enough selling point for some who needed cheap energy.

It made This United State, the primary holder of T.U.S. Inc, and T.R. Kom, CEO of all This United State held companies, a pretty penny, with many colony worlds and Earth states approached, who wanted affordable energy but didn't want so many protesters up in arms over nuclear power plants, or simply could not afford other similar infrastructure like fusion plants and what-have you. And most of them where more then willing to buy blueprints and start-up advice. Not to mention the stocks of cells which made thw whole thing chug along in the first place.

T.R. Kom sat in his Directorate Tower Pent-House / office looking at the blank executive data-pane set in his desk, and with his occular implants and their usually rapid scrolling violet script almost devoid of any usual urgency, then stretched back into his chair with a glass of chilled mineral water to sip and relax with, until he had to direct his augmented attentions else-where, of course. Such was the way of his waking hours, there was always something you couldn't delegate to trusted vice-presidents and agents.

On the whole it was a good transmogrification though, from such " Green " diesal to hard dollars, and finally into tools of death, the kind of tools, that would really fuck up just about any benefit to the environment that such very green beginnings could muster ...

He really had to smile when he thought of that.

To: Clarice Oshanko, T.U.S. Defence Director
From: ZMI Central Dispatch Dept

Your delivery is underway please standby for [33,000] tons of freight [in T.U.S. Mars Orbit] aboard the Armed Trader ZMMerchant Marine vessel[ “Logistical Improbability”] at [12:32 GMT] in [Four] standard Earth days.

Delivery manifest:

1 x Enforcement Class Battle Station (Optional short range FTL module on trail basis available)
2 x Mercantile Class Medium Missile Platforms
8000 tons Support Equipment and Spares.

ZMI Merchant Marine "We Deliver"


Your delivery is underway please standby for [2,300] tons of freight at [Military District of the London Dome Space-Port, T.U.S.] aboard the Venture Star ZMMercant Marine vessel [“Starsoar”] at [1:45 GMT] in [Two] Standard Earth days.

Delivery manifest:

250 X Scuttler Medium Combat Drones.
830 tons Support Equipment and Spares.

ZMI Merchant Marine "We Deliver"


To: Clarice Oshanko, T.U.S. Defence Director
From: ZMI Central Sales

We value your purchase and your valuable time below is a full list of specifications for orbital deterrent units “Storm Moon” and “ArchAngel”.

Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platform
Mass:630 Tons
Width:120 Metres
Power Sources:
32 Kilowatt Solar Array, Quad VD-80 Reactors
Reactor Lifetime: 50 Years

Primary Weapons Suite:
One 1.2 Terrawatt X Ray Laser fed to one primary lens array with ground targeting capacity and four defensive targeting lens arrays.
Eight single use 330mm 23,000 KPH Coil Drivers

Secondary Weapons Suite:
72 Star Slam Short Range Interceptor Missiles
12 GG54 Homing Thermonuclear Space Mines

Arch Angel Heavy Orbital Strike Platform

Mass: 13,000 tons
Hieght:220 Metres

Power Sources:
8 FD90 Single Burn Fusion Reactors (reactor burn period 38 days after which time power generation module must be replaced)

Primary Weapons Suite:
One 13 Terrawatt Neutron Lance
Two 1.2 Terrawatt Neutron Pulse Cannon

Secondary Weapons Suite:
340 Megawatt UV Laser Heat pump system.
50 Star Slam Short Range Interceptor Missiles

Also Suggest purchases to further your orbital deterrent and compliment your purchases are the following:

The GG20 Tactical Nuclear satellite. Limited manoeuvrability, low signature small size, 5 year deployable lifetime. 0.4 Kiloton Weapon


The GG40 Space Mine, Very Limited Manoeuvrability, Low signature, 5 year deployable lifetime. 5 Megaton weapon.

The GG23 Tactical Nuclear Satellite, Limited Manoeuvrability, Low signature small size, 5 year deployable lifetime, .08 Kiloton weapon.

The “Blue Star” Mk.II Electro Magnetic pulse Generation Nuclear Strike Satellite. High Manoeuvrability, 3.4 Megaton Weapon. 25 year deployable lifetime.

The “Gebra” Mk.V Nuclear Strike Satellite, High Manoeuvrability, Counter ABM Ablative warhead delivery unit, MIRV equipped. Standard Payload: 4 500 kiloton weapons. 25 year deployable lifetime.

The “Horizons Reach” Mk.VII Class Self Defending Nuclear Strike Satellite. Equipped with 6 3 Megawatt UV lasers powered by on board single use reactor, very large counter ABM deployment system. 40 Year deployable lifetime, MIRV Equipped. Standard Payload 32 5 Megaton weapons.

The GG100 Nuclear Strike Satellite. Very High manoeuvrability, counter ABM ablative warhead delivery unit. Standard Payload 3 250 Megaton Warheads.

Clarice sat in her executive office in the corporate security command bunker on the waste control and storage level of the New London Arcology. Basement of basements ... At least the atmosphere control was up to scratch, which was comforting for the staff of what was ultimately to be part of the Omega Burea of T.U.S. Corporate Defense. The last line ... Well, on the planet ...

And if that money grubbing little poof T.R. had his way she was going to end up on the new station along with a new alpha and omega line ... Which was fine, really, because as much as she hated to say it to herself in private, and never would to her staffers, this plush office, for all its mod-cons, wasn't the ... spiritual home she was wanting, as an combat hardened officer still in her prime. She knew she was. And she could still kill any-one who said any different nine different ways, face-to-face like, if they had the nerve to deny it in close reach of her.

Funny enough, that was how she'd wound up here of all places ...

She eye'd the email in front of her, then let her eyes slip across over the Defense Directorate " slush-fund " statement screen she'd called up on her desk-pane. Actually, it was more the National Slush Fund really, and only her Directorate and 3 others could access it, and only she had Instant Access, which was useful when she wanted to direct the usual funding she got into ... research.

Then her eyes tracked back to the email.

Fuck it, she thought, T.R. is picking up this bill, so why not ...

( Click ... )

[SENT]

Smart Email @ ZMI Central Recieving Dept, Level 349, The Ziggaraut, Zone One, Megacity One, Earth.

Cc : ZMI Central Dispatch Dept (?) The Ziggaraut etc (?)

Re : Confirmation and Further Purchase On Your Advice

I write you to confirm that the shipping and order details you have provided in return are correct, and we wish to further our business with you via the following extra purchases, acting with your sales assistance advice in mind.

10 x Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platform

5 x Arch Angel Heavy Orbital Strike Platform

5 x The “Horizons Reach” Mk.VII Class Self Defending Nuclear Strike Satellite

We also wish to purchase a further :

3 x Mercantile Class Medium Missile Platforms

This is the total of our further purchases at this time. We anticipate the on-time arrival of your initial delivery with much good feelings for future business with you.

- Clarice Oshanko, T.U.S. D.D.

[END MESSAGE]

Well, that was easy enough ! She'd never been god at the corpocratic babble, but hopefully she'd kissed enough arse and kept enough face to makee the exec-board happy enough, and T.R. wouldn't demand she come to his office to explain the latest high-office bitching. She still owed that cow Hayes in Commerce for that episode.

Granted, T.R. wouldn't like the extra expense, she'd not ran this one by him, but for a far too young man for that position, who thought more with his dick and his dollars, she had to say he was smart enough to see sense on this matter. If you want to guard the stage-wagons, you give the boys sitting in shot-gun position the big guns. Granted, these wagons were not going to go far, but it was more the ones that were going past they had to watch for. A major shipping and planetary transport access point deserved a little fortress on the hill to watch over it. Yes, a little fort, that was a better analogy. She was never all that good at them, and for all that old psycho-blather, you still need'd to be able to point, shoot, and get the fuckers under you to shoot too and in the right direction just to make things harder, before you made the victory speeches.

Still, she did have a good crew with her here. Which made the job just a slight bit better then it could other-wise be.

Still, she had just thought of the perfect way to explain this.

She typed it up and fired it off.

...

T.R. opened the feed from the slush-fund, and watched a fair portion bleed away before his eyes, pending transaction confirmation. Fuck-Shit. But seconds later, the D.D. tagged message on his optics explained things a little better. He had to smile at the violet text over-lay ...

" Our new dicks with your shiny dollars, sir. "

Oshanko, that girl really didn't like him all that much. Still, she did her job well enough and had done, since he'd met her back on Terra, now this latest set of aquisitions would make her even more cost effective in the long term.

To: Clarice Oshanko, T.U.S. Defence Director
From: ZMI Central Dispatch Dept

Your delivery is underway please standby for [24,000] tons of freight [in T.U.S. Mars Orbit] aboard the Armed Trader ZMMerchant Marine vessel[ “Moonstruck Merchant”] at [14:23 GMT] in [Six] standard Earth days.

Delivery manifest:

10 x Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platform

5 x Arch Angel Heavy Orbital Strike Platform

5 x “Horizons Reach” Mk.VII Class Self Defending Nuclear Strike Satellite

3 x Mercantile Medium Missile Platforms

12000 tons Support Equipment and Spares.

ZMI Merchant Marine "We Deliver"


Megacity One

The bleak grey plas crete pier was still illuminated by the harsh light of massed halogen lamps even as the sky slowly grew purpled with the beginnings of false dawn. It sat in the eastern half of the Megacities vast sea front, an area long overdue for urban renewal. A single forlorn holographic sign who’s definition was failing vaguely blinked the time 09:34 before hazily advertising some synth pop album, the artists vapid expression barely visible through the fuzz of the badly tuned device matching the general empty aura of the scene as it hung upon a lone crane who’s almost insectile form seemed to loom over the entire area.

Endless warehouses stood on this seafront backed by an unremarkable grimy industrial zone who’s rumbling massive stationary mechanical denizens saw fit to make their presence known by a cacophony of hums, alarms and hisses. The warehouses walls were bearing an almost arcane mass of 2 metre high barcodes and numerals the spartan nature of the buildings were occasionally broken by a fleck of colour in the form of faded posters advertising bars and clubs that in some cases had gone out of business decades ago. Interposed everywhere were the white spindle like supports of maglev lines, who’s gleaming features seemed in conflict with the ever present grime of the area. Upon their rails glided the seemingly out of place smooth orderly aerodynamic forms of passenger trains, seemingly processing in the almost religious act of delivering the vast work force to there chosen tasks. These almost delicate white trains were occasionally joined on the rails by the ugly brutish forms of cargo transports, some of which would stop above or enter into the masses of the industrial conurbations. A single rail from this network led to the pier in question and upon it the black mass of a cargo transport came its sides emblazoned with company logos. It pulls slowly up the pier before stopping just before it hits the buffers set in its end, the zipping form of drones already emptying from one of its cars while more joined their growing activity from dark almost rookery like storage units dotted around the area. Finally a dozen men in black Int-Sec great coats swung out of the train at various points, the long broken forms of neural stripper rifles slung over their backs, a few with the masses of sniper scopes ominously attached.

Half an hour would pass as a small group of dockers made their appearance in a single yellow port service ground car, while a mild drizzle began shrouding the whole city in a thick grey lack of visibility, from the pier making the distant gleaming towers of the central zone vanish into the swirling masses of grey mist like rain.

Foghorns began to sound, echoing across the pier where the Int-Sec men were now strung out as the dockers supervised the drones in preparing the cargo and checked and powered up the crane. One foghorn grew closer, and the form of a cargo ship broke through the mist, its massive fins and bulbous body bobbing along the water as if there were all the time in the world, the dull rush of its water jets barely audible the vessel bore the name “StarSoar” in bright white lettering across its bow. It slowly manoeuvred its way into the pier, the scorch marks of re-entry and tiny pits of micro meteorites joined by the odd hapless scorched remnants of a barnacle. The dull wash of the sea and hum of the city behind them was joined by the new sound of cargo being loaded. Heavy cargo units were one by one unloaded from the trains flat cars by the crane who’s humming and hissing would mirror its larger mechanichal brethren in the industrial zone even as the drones checked everything constantly.

After another half hour the loading was done and the StarsSoar would placidly chug her way 4 miles from the shore before her achingly bright fusion flames lit the morning sky and hurled her skywards.

Jesse, just out of College, sat at his console in Port Control doing a job that machines would be better at. With a typing rate of over 600 words a minute, ( with the bulk of thanks of course to specialist implants in his nerve cords, wrists and then digits he'd saved up for since the start of high-school ), he was just killing time to get a decent enough pay-voucher until a position in data-entry in one of the big corporate towers free'd up for him. Come to think of it, machines were doing his job. He was just here to act as their fail-safe. It Figures, he thought with some disgust. He was just a pretty face for the ship crews to talk to. Not that he hadn't been treated like a turing program thrice in the past week. Why even bother ...

Stilll, a pay-voucher was a pay-voucher, and he owed the Edu-Corp his parents chose for his " future " all those years ago another 6 months of " time served " where-ever they said he was to do so before his " educational investment contract " ceased operation. He'd also be getting a full pay-voucher, without their taking a cut like they were now ...

Talking of said pay-vouchers, he might as well make an act of earning his, so he tapped in a new set of commands into his console. The desk-pane gave up on its last display and demonstrated what the sky right above New London Dome looked like. Pretty, if quite point-less, but it gave the system time to prepare the next act with-out the operator getting annoyed at a screen of blank nothing or a passe loading bar. In the next second which passed, the expert systems around Jesse in Port Control linked together data from various traffic control and monitoring satellites in Mars orbit, and gave a nice 3D display of the Planet, with a stream of vector lines denoting all military traffic, and all the primary trade routes to and from Terra, as well as the other system bodies of note. At last, 2 seconds after , the commands he'd put in took full effect and began to generate a scan of in-coming traffic and their inventory if they had it on file. With a sudden ping ! a bright blue box had wrapped itself around two ships and various but quite case specific identity codes were displayed next to them.

ZMI ? With a priority shipping code too, interesting ...

If, of course, this was the lot he'd heard discussed in the break-room earlier today ...

He called up the procedure listing on his desk-pane and blinked at the orders these two had been marked for. Granted, the ships were a few hours away, and one behind the other by something like two days or so, but the listing was quite clear about what those codes told him to do and to do it now.

First he'd need two candidates ... for the procedures.

Score ...

A few seconds of scan had brought up two ships, both on timed-delivery contracts, one for a bulk supply of refined exotic medical specific chemical compounds, and another of same type whose Banque de T.U.S. loan was so far into the red this lost contract for them would break the fiscal spine of their operation. Perfect.

Some-where high above Jesse in the plain of parking orbit, the captains of two cargo ships were told a computing glitch had given them the wrong vectors in relation to T.U.S. New London Port parking,, and that their booked landing-bays were voided by glitch to boot. They were told they'd been put back at the end of the line-up, and would have to wait, and that yes, everything was being done to speed their process and we at T.U.S. were sorry for the position they had been put in ...

Mean-while, two emails were sent by Jesse, one to a T.U.S. Medical Research Institute with a marked advantage in the amount of free credit they had, and another to Banque de T.U.S. itself.

One captain cursed the voiding of their contract this would cause. Since the buyer would likely drop them because of this, she'd have to sell this exotic medical compound crap at cut price so the tight-purse merchants below could actually get enough credit together fast enough for her to get rid of this expensive stuff and get another cargo and get the hell off of the pad before it started to cost her dear. Dammit, she knew this Port was busy as all heck these days, but it would be now, wouldn't it ?

How-ever, just when she started to feel the migraine form behind her eyes, her Comms officer reported an sudden email from some research group ground-side asking if they'd release their cargo at a decent price. Less then contract and worth, but immediate payable. Thank the lord she was saved from another night of blinding pain as the pressure in her sinus passages collapsed in on itself in her relief ... she'd not make a profit on this run, but she'd be back in the black at least and able to pick up a new cargo soon enough for her tastes.

Mean-while, another captain thought about the mechanics of his potential suicide as an email from the " Fucking Bastards at T.U.S. " gave his own Comms guy the full-blown jitters. He was told that if he failed to pay up upon landing on his loan now out-standing, his cargo ship would be taken by T.U.S. Security for Banque de T.U.S. to sell off, scrap, or other-wise do as they please. And any attempt to cut and run would force them to summon the T.U.S. Security Forces Mk 37 teams to run interdiction on him or even worse, contract non-T.U.S. ships, which could " put himself and his crew at grave personal risk during any recovery operation ". Jesus, Allah, and all the others, all his hard work blown on this one risky run to put him back on top the the Banque de Bastardry ...

Both ships went into fresh parking orbits, waiting for clearance to finally make the decline to the surface.

Jesse smiled, he could score a nice procedure-bonus on his pay-voucher for this. Now to deal with the real money makers .. well, not for T.U.S. itself, as the cargo on them was marked as being so sensitive he couldn't access it apart from where it was supposed to go ... but more so for him to make a pretty penny for handling this all by the books and then some.

Another tap on the inter-face gave him direct tight-beam link ...

" Greetings, " Logistical Improbability " and " Moonstruck Merchant " I'm Jesse Mc Gee in This United State Port Control, you've both just been given our priority landing service. Please make your way along standard commercial vectors to Martian orbit, deploy your ... space based cargo in position as I expect has been organised, in direct orbit and working position above the location of New London, then deliver your ... ground destined cargo here at the T.U.S. New London Space-Port. If you have any questions or concerns, please raise myself or one of my co-workers on this signal and we'll do our best to help you or put you in touch with who-ever can. Thank-you for choosing to do business with This United State and welcome. "

He tried not to look up at the clock on the wall to see how long till his shift was over ... Or wonder if the other rumours were true, and that The Man Himself had an eye on this lot ... Spooky thought.

Entering Martian Orbit ZMMM Logistical Improbability
The huge bulk hauliers hull shimmered faintly red from the reflected light of the planet below. Deep within her command and control centre Captain Rowena Lawson's hands dashed across active data panels like an expert pianist as her neural jack hummed with data. The huge vessels secondary drives flared for a moment as the message piped across her audio set


" Greetings, " Logistical Improbability " and " Moonstruck Merchant " I'm Jesse Mc Gee in This United State Port Control, you've both just been given our priority landing service. Please make your way along standard commercial vectors to Martian orbit, deploy your ... space based cargo in position as I expect has been organised, in direct orbit and working position above the location of New London, then deliver your ... ground destined cargo here at the T.U.S. New London Space-Port. If you have any questions or concerns, please raise myself or one of my co-workers on this signal and we'll do our best to help you or put you in touch with who-ever can. Thank-you for choosing to do business with This United State and welcome. "

Pressing a dozen cargo checking systems she sent a brief text message to the star soar

Point to Point encrypted text broadcast
This is Rowena. Harry I suggest you go in hot, give them a bit of a show, while I get done with this grunt work.”

Even as she sent it and started the in some ways delicate cargoes check sequences she opened clear audio communications


This is Senior Captain Rowena Lawson of the Logistical Improbability now preparing to commence deployment of your new space based assets. Be advised Moonstruck Merchant is inbound. Logistical Improbability Out.


Starring at the holo glyph filled air in front of her for a moment she waved a hand through their glowing insubstantial formations and slowly the Logistical Improbability began its burn sequence to enter geo synchronous orbit. Plasma flowed through duct lines from the main rear reactor systems to the front drive units, which vectored and shaped its flow in six eye burning lines of blue white fire. The compensatory systems barely fluctuated at this manoeuvre and Rowena sat back in her command chair as the ships programs and systems danced under her watchful eye. A seemingly lazily moving hand touched a panel by her left side as the glyph representing the Logistical Improbability started flashing green.

“This is the captain, commence cargo deployment sequence”.

Her hands now once more flashed through the array of glyphs and panels as the massive cargo bay doors slid open one by one revealing their glittering cargo. Already drone tug craft controlled by control staff safe in the command centre where nudging their yellow masses around the ships hull positioning themselves to receive their deadly loads. Then came the drones, sensors probing, linking to remote systems and doing final checks, before linking the cargoes cables to the tug craft. In moments the bulky shape of the EC station segments began to make their appearance its reactor coolant panels already unfolding as the drones and tugs linked more and more devices. Some of the smaller units were simply carried cradled in the cargo nets of drones to their positions, others like the archangel units would take three or four of the corvette sized tug craft to nudge them to position, their manoeuvring burns hurling out great waves of glowing propellant.

Meanwhile the Moonstruck Merchant began her decent sequence.

Entering Martian Orbit ZMMM Logistical Improbability

The huge bulk hauliers hull shimmered faintly red from the reflected light of the planet below. Deep within her command and control centre Captain Rowena Lawson's hands dashed across active data panels like an expert pianist as her neural jack hummed with data. The huge vessels secondary drives flared for a moment as the message piped across her audio set


" Greetings, " Logistical Improbability " and " Moonstruck Merchant " I'm Jesse Mc Gee in This United State Port Control, you've both just been given our priority landing service. Please make your way along standard commercial vectors to Martian orbit, deploy your ... space based cargo in position as I expect has been organised, in direct orbit and working position above the location of New London, then deliver your ... ground destined cargo here at the T.U.S. New London Space-Port. If you have any questions or concerns, please raise myself or one of my co-workers on this signal and we'll do our best to help you or put you in touch with who-ever can. Thank-you for choosing to do business with This United State and welcome. "

Pressing a dozen cargo checking systems she sent a brief text message to the star soar

Point to Point encrypted text broadcast
This is Rowena. Harry I suggest you go in hot, give them a bit of a show, while I get done with this grunt work.”

Even as she sent it and started the in some ways delicate cargoes check sequences she opened clear audio communications


This is Senior Captain Rowena Lawson of the Logistical Improbability now preparing to commence deployment of your new space based assets. Be advised Moonstruck Merchant is inbound. Logistical Improbability Out.


Starring at the holo glyph filled air in front of her for a moment she waved a hand through their glowing insubstantial formations and slowly the Logistical Improbability began its burn sequence to enter geo synchronous orbit. Plasma flowed through duct lines from the main rear reactor systems to the front drive units, which vectored and shaped its flow in six eye burning lines of blue white fire. The compensatory systems barely fluctuated at this manoeuvre and Rowena sat back in her command chair as the ships programs and systems danced under her watchful eye. A seemingly lazily moving hand touched a panel by her left side as the glyph representing the Logistical Improbability started flashing green.

“This is the captain, commence cargo deployment sequence”.

Her hands now once more flashed through the array of glyphs and panels as the massive cargo bay doors slid open one by one revealing their glittering cargo. Already drone tug craft controlled by control staff safe in the command centre where nudging their yellow masses around the ships hull positioning themselves to receive their deadly loads. Then came the drones, sensors probing, linking to remote systems and doing final checks, before linking the cargoes cables to the tug craft. In moments the bulky shape of the EC station segments began to make their appearance its reactor coolant panels already unfolding as the drones and tugs linked more and more devices. Some of the smaller units were simply carried cradled in the cargo nets of drones to their positions, others like the archangel units would take three or four of the corvette sized tug craft to nudge them to position, their manoeuvring burns hurling out great waves of glowing propellant.

Meanwhile the Moonstruck Merchant began her decent sequence.

This is Senior Captain Rowena Lawson of the Logistical Improbability now preparing to commence deployment of your new space based assets. Be advised Moonstruck Merchant is inbound. Logistical Improbability Out.Jesse listened, and began clearing all in-coming civil traffic, or at least that near the designated zone in orbit. The volume of traffic was so high he had to have the A.I. do it, with a few other operators tasked to handle any grouchy captains, irate at being told to shift their metal and composite material construct penile compensators, ever-so-nicely, of course.

A distinct mutter of " well same to you too, bub ... " could be heard across the port operations room from one of said operators as a result of one such rapid verbal encounter ...

And from the hard-burn vector the M.M. itself was now set to, he'd have to make sure all the ground crew moved the hell away from the strip he'd marked for the M.M. to land upon.

Jesse checked the procedure code again. And checked it again. And ... again. He punched it into the console and the desk-pane confirmed it. Still ...

Better do it, just in case ...

In The Office / Pent-House Complex of The Director of T.U.S.

In the outer-office of T.R. Kom, T.U.S. Special Security Agent Justine Casse, acting as the Personal Secretary to The Director, paused from her data-search as her occular implants flashed a priority code in response to her smart-email box being struck by a message. In a fluid motion, she froze the search query, and accessed the mail account, pausing once again.

Excellent. Now to tell Mr ...

She pushed an ornate button on her desk, ( Rather then the small one below by her foot, not all that far from several others ) ...

" ... also sir, the crew has been assembled out at the Hope Facility in the designated MK 37's, and they're ready to lift and join us on the way once you give the go command. Your executive '37 is on the tower pad as you requested, and the escort flight ready with it. " came from a some-what out of place looking silver tannoy-grill set in the obsidian surface of T.R. Kom's desk surface.

T.R. Kom nodded to himself, and cancelled the occular implant feed he'd been watching before Justine had contacted him, of the Logistical Improbability and its counter-part via scans from the traffic monitor satellites ...

" Okay ... I'll meet you on the pad I suppose ... I'll use the office / pent-house elevator, ... I have some ... "

T.R. looked across the room,

" Business I must conclude before I can ... come up. ( Snicker ) ... We'll lift as soon as I'm aboard. You might want to alert Ms Oshanko too. I suppose she might get just a little more snarky towards me if I don't tell her that her new office has arrived ... Make sure she's on the '37 before I arrive. "

The silver tannoy beeped twice to signal Justine had heard his instruction and was on her way. T.R. checked his suit tie was straight, and slipped across the large room to casually re-arrange one of the recently kicked free silk sheets over the bare rump of the powerful young male form now well asleep on the bed. Not to be wanting any distraction to keep him back in the office right now, nope. A great pity though. Still, time to attend to that important business of the company, after he'd " given " Oshanko her new toys, now being delivered ...

This is Senior Captain Rowena Lawson of the Logistical Improbability now preparing to commence deployment of your new space based assets. Be advised Moonstruck Merchant is inbound. Logistical Improbability Out.Jesse listened, and began clearing all in-coming civil traffic, or at least that near the designated zone in orbit. The volume of traffic was so high he had to have the A.I. do it, with a few other operators tasked to handle any grouchy captains, irate at being told to shift their metal and composite material construct penile compensators, ever-so-nicely, of course.

A distinct mutter of " well same to you too, bub ... " could be heard across the port operations room from one of said operators as a result of one such rapid verbal encounter ...

And from the hard-burn vector the M.M. itself was now set to, he'd have to make sure all the ground crew moved the hell away from the strip he'd marked for the M.M. to land upon.

Jesse checked the procedure code again. And checked it again. And ... again. He punched it into the console and the desk-pane confirmed it. Still ...

Better do it, just in case ...

In The Office / Pent-House Complex of The Director of T.U.S.

In the outer-office of T.R. Kom, T.U.S. Special Security Agent Justine Casse, acting as the Personal Secretary to The Director, paused from her data-search as her occular implants flashed a priority code in response to her smart-email box being struck by a message. In a fluid motion, she froze the search query, and accessed the mail account, pausing once again.

Excellent. Now to tell Mr ...

She pushed an ornate button on her desk, ( Rather then the small one below by her foot, not all that far from several others ) ...

" ... also sir, the crew has been assembled out at the Hope Facility in the designated MK 37's, and they're ready to lift and join us on the way once you give the go command. Your executive '37 is on the tower pad as you requested, and the escort flight ready with it. " came from a some-what out of place looking silver tannoy-grill set in the obsidian surface of T.R. Kom's desk surface.

T.R. Kom nodded to himself, and cancelled the occular implant feed he'd been watching before Justine had contacted him, of the Logistical Improbability and its counter-part via scans from the traffic monitor satellites ...

" Okay ... I'll meet you on the pad I suppose ... I'll use the office / pent-house elevator, ... I have some ... "

T.R. looked across the room,

" Business I must conclude before I can ... come up. ( Snicker ) ... We'll lift as soon as I'm aboard. You might want to alert Ms Oshanko too. I suppose she might get just a little more snarky towards me if I don't tell her that her new office has arrived ... Make sure she's on the '37 before I arrive. "

The silver tannoy beeped twice to signal Justine had heard his instruction and was on her way. T.R. checked his suit tie was straight, and slipped across the large room to casually re-arrange one of the recently kicked free silk sheets over the bare rump of the powerful young male form now well asleep on the bed. Not to be wanting any distraction to keep him back in the office right now, nope. A great pity though. Still, time to attend to that important business of the company, after he'd " given " Oshanko her new toys, now being delivered ...

It was shopping time again, really.

Several examples of recent profit centric thinking (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showpost.php?p=9858629&postcount=10) had granted This United State a serious economic boost, and in response, T.U.S. was going to re-invest. Part of such a re-investment was boosting security around the biggest investments of all (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=434946) which T.U.S. had made up to present day, the colonies of Despina, Galatea and Thalassa, moons orbiting out at Netpune. To begin with, Big Guns were on the Agenda.

Granted, T.U.S. had big guns made in-house, but this called for different kind of big guns, and in this specific case, specific big guns they'd been working with for some time now.

*** *** *** *** ***

Attn : ZMI Central Recieving Dept, Level 349, The Ziggaraut, Zone One, Megacity One, Earth.

Dear ZMI Central Recieving Dept,

After examination of your online catalogue, and recalling our previous business together which was most enjoyable, The Directorate of This United State here-by informs you we wish to make immediate order of the following four sets of items expected to be within your stock repository or which you can manufacture A.S.A.P. for our purchase from you and delivery to the respective listed destinations.

1) For Destination : Despina, a Moon of Neptune ...

1 x Enforcement Class station.

- To have previous experimental modification and boosted crew capacity included.

60 x Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platforms.

- To be positioned in orbit, in a sphere formation around the destination, pre-slaved to the respective Enforcement Class station.

500 x Scuttler MDC

- To be modified, if such modification is required, to operate on a low-gravity moon-surface, with 40mm grenade launcher or other similar under-slung system to be replaced by a 20mm seeker smart-missile launcher and magazine system or equivalent device. These are to be delivered to the surface and with the attached black-box programming pre-installed. We also expect the regular dual 50. cal top-mounted weapons to be replaced with a space-optomised, compact, high-velocity, armour penetrating variant system to act as an anti-space infantry and anti power-suit system.

6 x Hydroponic Platforms

- Of type noted on the e-flyer for the Orbital Industrial Node series are also to be positioned closy-by, above Despina in close but safe formation.

2) For Destination : Galatea, a Moon of Neptune ...

1 x Enforcement Class station.

- To have previous experimental modification and boosted crew capacity included.

60 x Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platforms.

- To be positioned in orbit, in a sphere formation around the destination, pre-slaved to the respective Enforcement Class station.

500 x Scuttler MDC

- To be modified, if such modification is required, to operate on a low-gravity moon-surface, with 40mm grenade launcher or other similar under-slung system to be replaced by a 20mm seeker smart-missile launcher and magazine system or equivalent device. These are to be delivered to the surface and with the attached black-box programming pre-installed. We also expect the regular dual 50. cal top-mounted weapons to be replaced with a space-optomised, compact, high-velocity, armour penetrating variant system to act as an anti-space infantry and anti power-suit system.

3) For Destination : Thalassa, a Moon of Neptune ...

1 x Enforcement Class station.

- To have previous experimental modification and boosted crew capacity included.

60 x Storm Moon Orbital Strike Platforms.

- To be positioned in orbit, in a sphere formation around the destination, pre-slaved to the respective Enforcement Class station.

500 x Scuttler MDC

- To be modified, if such modification is required, to operate on a low-gravity moon-surface, with 40mm grenade launcher or other similar under-slung system to be replaced by a 20mm seeker smart-missile launcher and magazine system or equivalent device. These are to be delivered to the surface and with the attached black-box programming pre-installed. We also expect the regular dual 50. cal top-mounted weapons to be replaced with a space-optomised, compact, high-velocity, armour penetrating variant system to act as an anti-space infantry and anti power-suit system.

4) For delivery to New London, via the space-port of which, A.S.A.P.

200 x Mk.III Goverment Issue Cars.

- To be sent to New London for modification by our specialists for use in law enforcement and other Directorate usage.

* At this point, Smaller Guns came into play as well, it was to be seen. *

200 x the prototype multi-role armour unit you have designed for us previously.

- By Request of The Office of The Director of This United State

Full pay-ment to be made upon confirmation of delivery as requested.

*** *** *** *** ***

Commerce and trade was still commerce and trade, even if the end result of which was the chance of Shit Being Blown Up. Still, Shit was only ever going to Blow Up if some-one, any-one, was foolish enough to try to Blow Up T.U.S. Shit to begin with. Which wasn't all that likely, but ...

It was pre-emptive self-defense planning, you could say. It'd gotten T.U.S. this far, at least.