Azanian Economic Bloc
16-08-2005, 23:24
OOC: This belongs to the Near Future Tech RP: http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=438196
If you've been reading my stuff, you can skip down to the part that says Cayman islands because the background has all been posted before.
Background RP (Starting at about 2080)
The Azanian Economic Bloc was born of a region of the world that had suffered economically. It was a coalition of various megacorporations, ones that learned to flaunt the laws of their weaker host government. The majority of their operations were based offshore, in international waters where they could run their businesses at will.
But times were changing. The AEB would soon expand beyond its humbled earthly borders. Projects were underway to bring the operations of the megacorps into space.
[Over AEB]
It was their most expensive investment yet. The space station started originally for materials fabrication was rapidly becoming a shipyard. Raw materials were being pulled in from Earthside to help construct an interplanetary starship: Many regions of the solar system were ripe with resources, something that interested the various mining corporations of Azania. Compared to other spacefaring nations, their technology was primitive. But they would travel on as best they could, hopefully with some help from outside nations.
[Over-AEB]
Over AEB was originally designed as a spacestation, and the older, clunkier hull section in the center reflected that. Now it was only used for storage and power supply, the Tokamak Fusion reactor humming away silently inside it. The rest of the station was arrayed out in a ring around this, with scaffodling extending from the center of it, where the ship itself was to be built. The station was completely unarmed, save for whatever hand weapons the Corporate Security Forces carried onboard. Corporate logos covered the white, radiation-hardened station, along with various sensor panels.
Over-AEB's commander was an Aerospace industry professional, James Greaves. Overseeing the construction of the AEBSS Hermes One through remote monitors, he sipped coffee through a straw (a necessity in zero-gee), when a sudden alarm light flashed, illuminating the control room.
"Sir, looks like the resupply shuttle dirtside is on docking approach."
Greaves looked at the monitor in the control room, and there it was, the wide, stubby-winged shape of an AEB shuttle. Letting the vessel dock, he bounced toward the airlock to the lift shaft, and had it move down. Usually when he used the Lift shaft along the station's spine it was filled with workers, but shift change wasn't for awhile now. Taking a turn, he waited outside as the pressure in the airlock equalized. Inside were three men, one visibly disoriented.
"First time in space?"
The nauseated man managed to crack a grin.
"Yeah. Richard Hollingsworth, and these are my colleagues Siundi Ndmali and George Harper. TransAfrica Fusion. We heard you guys needed some help with the ship's Tokamak?"
Greaves nodded, leading the men up the lift shaft towards the hub, where the control room was.
"We don't have any fusion qual guys onboard, and we're a bit ahead of schedule, so we figured we'd ring up some guys Earthside. Welcome to Over-AEB and the Hermes Project, hope you guys enjoy the stay."
"Got anywhere with gravity?" Richard croaked.
"Kind of. We got a real nice hab-weel with centrifugal rated at oh dot five Earth standard."
"Anything with a floor would be nice."
The men were lead into an airlock. There were many of these in transition areas around the ship, to prevent catastrophic failures of the internal atmosphere. After the airlock cycled, they floated through a cylinder which served as a passage. Greaves grinned a bit, adjusting himself.
"This is gonna be real disorienting, but when we get in there, gravity is gonna be that way." he pointed to his right, towards a hatch A ladder ran down the entire side of the corridor. The vibration of the rotating crew habitat could be felt if you touched to the 'wall'. Then, pointing to his right, he gestured towards a hatch.
"So when we come up, it'll be like coming out of the roof."
He tapped on a keypad.
"Get ready."
The airlock opened, and Greaves made his way down the ladder. Once everyone was there, they stood on a platform, with a staircaise leading down towhat seemed to be a hallway in a strange combination of a normal space vessel and a futuristic hotel hallway. The air filter was a steady hum, and above their heads were 'skylights' of armored 'glass'. The lights were sheets of glowstrip, not too harsh on the eye, giving the surroundings a pleasant lighting. The colors were painted in similarly passive shades.
"Designed for relaxation."
There were multiple floors, and naval-style staircases to get to them. Along the main corridor were plenty of plants and other greenery.
"Stuff we pulled up from zero-g research. These aren't our main gardens, that's a seperate sector, but we figure they look nice and they help out the air a bit too. Most of these rooms are crew cabins or storage."
They continued along the circle, towards the mess halls. It was furnished in a manner similar to those earthside, and since there was some gravity, the chow was generally better than that of the zero-gee variety. Continuing on, there were multiple gyms, as well as several recreational centers. Filled with a variety of games and entertainment, there were also models of the station itself and the yet to be completed Hermes One.
"Most of the work is done with automated stuff, but even then, lots of human supervisors and maintinance for the bots. If you want to take a peek at the vessel 'erself, we'll have to go back into the command center and take a crew elevator down the spine."
OOC: If the layout is confusing, here's a pic of the station. The black outline on the 'bottom' is the dimensions of the Hermes once it's completed.
IC:
[Earthside]
[Azania]
The floating megacity was never a dull place, but beyond the fluttering air traffic, the blimps, the ships, there was something brewing bigger in the AEB Space Projects Center.
"So are the fusion techies up?"
Project Director Nathaniel Ksuili was a native African, raised in one of the many generations under Azanian capitalism and idelogy. An accomplished businessman, he was voted by the Project Investor board to lead the Hermes program and other AEB space activities. His staff sat at the same table as him, a nice hardwood one, as a flatscreen monitor displayed images of Over-AEB and the shuttle, along with its new arrivals.
"Yes sir." spoke an aide, a woman Nathaniel knew to be a Cape Colored who's parents worked at a Kalahiri diamond mine. "It seems everything is going beautifully, but now we've got to convey that to the investors. A lot of people are getting a bit shaky about all of. In Zambia, you know, a lot bandits coming up, and now some think we need to spend more money on our military..."
"Sometimes I think this gets more annoying than the old Democracies. At least with them you could brainwash the voters through advertisement... No deal here. Everyone's doing their reading..."
"The same way inmates bone up on legal matters," another man muttered, and Ksuili allowed a chuckle. Such humor was prevalent in the matter-of-fact world that was a nation founded on business.
"Well, see if we can get Hermes moving a bit faster. Just getting the damn thing to fly will be a big confidence boost. Once we start slinging metal back to L4 or L5, we've got it made."
The conversation continued while a dirtier line of work continued elsewhere.
[Zambian Copper Mines]
[AEBRDF 55th Company]
The dropships roared over the jungle on airbreathing engines, banking and manuvering to get as low as safely possible. The pilots of the camouflaged craft were linked in neurally, sitting in their cockpits with the interface helmets on, chattering over the radio. Inside the bays of the dropships were the armored and armed commandos of the 55th AEBRDF. Todays case was unusual: Rather than the standard riots or thieveries, it was an armed assault on the highway from one of the copper mines, a supply convoy specifically.
They roared over the gaping shaft of a copper mine, and then banked hard again. In the distance something was burning, gunfire crackled and cackled as the fighting continued. Screaming down the road, a dropship moved in to drop a load of A45 Combat Armored troops, heavy battlesuits. Holding their G5 rifles and a variety of other weapons, they quickly set up a perimeter.
Sgt. Jan Nikolaas looked over the helmet visor mounted interface of his A45, robotic waldo hands on the suits arms readying the rifle for action. The enemy was a typical hodgepodge of Afircan armed banditry: Everything from old Cased Chemical rifles (OOC: The weapons of today, if you will) to one of the older tripod mounted heavy coilguns. That would have to be eliminated quickly. He raised the rifle, targeting symbology centering itself on one of the men, and fired a three round burst. It was a single crack at that rate of fire. The bandit's chest exploded, his old rifle clattering to the ground. A steady rhythm eminated from the tripod coilgun, and he thew his suit to pavement. Someone else raised the left arm of the suit, activating a riot launcher that was standard issue. But instead of CS gas, it was filled with old-style frag grenades, still useful after 200 years with little change. The launched choonked and then choonked again, a blur as the grenade canisters flew towards the coilgun. The bandits were already fleeing from it, but it was too late. The airburst caught them and threw them to the ground viciously, shrouding their deaths in a cloud of dirt and smoke.
Jan got up and quickly resumed combat. After hunting down the last of the bandits, the dropship arrived again, and the A45s clunked onboard, one after another, while a Paramed craft airlifted the wounded employees to company hospitals.
Just another day on the job, Jan thought, disengaging the A45. The armor unfolded, chest coming apart clamshell style as he fumbled for a pocket. Two blue-green caplets appeared. 'Chill' wasn't illegal, it was prescription really. He'd got hooked on it at a hospital in Nairobi before he swithced over to the A45, when a Bushman got his hands on a rifle a bit too powerful for his tastes. But he certainly didn't physically need it, some part of his mind observed as he downed the pills. Chemically? Mentally? As the drug worked its way through his body, his mind settled on different thoughts.
Just another day on the job.
[Over AEB]
Cradled in the shipyard's spindly, solar panel arms shat the husk of a ship. The forward was still a husk, a skeletal frame of support beams as pieces of radiation shielding were clamped on. Robots floated and crawled across the vessel, as humans watched from manuvering backpacks or umbilical tethers, space suited with the AEB flag on their shoulders.
Four more suited figures entered from above, holding onto a 'scooter' as it brought them towards the engine compartment. The silence was underwhelming, but it was soon covered by the sound of the radio chatter. Richard kept it on- it was reassuring to him. After being lead into a lock for the engine compartment, they walked down the unfurnished halls towards the reactor itself.
"How long you think a saftey check will take?"
"A few days, at least. Then a few more when it's finished to make sure it runs properly. I think its worth it. Sure as hell wouldn't want to be stranded out in the Belt..."
"Amen."
The vessel was still a month, at least from completion. Near the station, pods of cargo were latched onto the hull of the shipyard, waiting for their vessel to house them. The Hermes One would carry enough equipment to easily begin mining operations on multiple asteroids.
Now it was a matter of time.
[Over AEB]
There it was. 325 meters of aluminum, radiation shielding, lunacrete, and trailbrazing work for the AEB. The entire station, and indeed, the entire nation watched the event carefully. AEB had set up a variety of webcams and live-television cameras around the site, and you could turn into many channels or download a stream off of the internet to witness the final Tokamak check of the Hermes One.
Months after they first ventured inside the Hermes One, those four men went back into the ship, and now they were finally emerging again. No emotion could be detected through their space suits as they egressed, but everyone knew they entire station was filled with excitement.
In another few days, they would be launching towards the 'Aten' Belt. This was much better for the Hermes One than starting a full scale Belt enterprise because the Aten belt is closer to the Earth, thus making it a better 'test' voyage for the Hermes, and it would give them enough resources to begin construction of more materials, making the Belt trip more profitable.
[Factory-Ship L5-A-1]
This was wasn't a ship so much as a space station with engines. Nuke-rocketed to Lagrange Five, the Factory Ship was chock full of construction and refining materials for the payloads that would be incoming from Aten. It was empty until now.
The Cycler 'Tweety' wasn't a glorious spacecraft. A big bulky carrier section attached to an engine module, mostly made from materials of the spent-fuel boosters from the shuttle launches. A masterwork of improvisation, it was now carrying the crew to the Factory Ship. The Factory Ship itself had a small centrifugal hab-ring, it was mostly automated. However, it still needed a crew of human overseers.
[Hermes One]
Commander David Gltunbo smiled as he looked over his vessel. A former fighter pilot who'd gone into aerospace, this was all of his dreams come true. He was going to be the commander of the nation's greatest spacecraft yet. He would be in the ship's command section for the initial burn- it would be easier to work if gravity was pushing him down rather than hitting him from the side.
The attitude thrusters were doing rapid fire volleys of corrective manuvering as a small 'tug' like vessel lead them out of the shipyard. It would take 15 minutes, but one didn't want to break the shipyard or the Hermes. Once it was several kilometers clear of the station, the initial burn began. An alarm was sounded to indicate to the rest of the crew, and the fusion reactor began to work on its reaction mass. The ship began accelerating on a precisely tuned course to the Aten belt.
[Cycler 'Tweety']
A collective sigh of relief filled the commlink as the cycler decclerated, and they watched through lunaglass armored viewports as the factoryship awaited them. The crew of 100 would be cycled over in groups.
Factory Ship L5-A1 met them with a magnetic airlock, docking arms embracing the cycler onto its steel-aluminum hull. Massive solar panels unfurled like a robotic flower, supplementing the fusion reactors. The vast majority of operations here would be automated, using the latest in zero gravity manufacturing techniques. Now all they needed was resources.
[Aten Belt]
[Hermes One]
The Hermes One began to discharge the equipment that had been strapped to its hull and cargo modules: in space, aerodynamics was not an issue, One was the equivalent of an overpacked truck. Minature space stations, small centrifugal habitats were all set up as the home away from home for the miners that would oversee the robotic equipment. As the massive asteroids passed slowly by, crews and robots worked to set up the magnetic filter-canopy on one of the asteroids. A giant conical dome, the canopy would minimze excess debris and help sort out metals from nonmetals.
Gltunbo watched from the command deck as the space station/processor assembly was put into place. It would match orbit with their current asteroid. It was a fairly simple centrifuge and central storage hub, but the centrifuge was lined with booster-tugs for the processed asteroid material. It would be a week before they started sending anything to L5-A-1, but after that they'd simply move on to a new asteroid. Armored CERMET spacesuits made their way across asteroid and station alike as the mining operations began in earnest.
[Tanganyika Proving Grounds]
Major Piet van Shrakenberg grinned under the visor of his direct neural interface helmet, his body and suit nestled in a protective environment g-web as he tried out his newest aircraft.
The Geesvalk Fighter was a marvel of Azanian engineering. Like the other vessels of Azania, it was utilitarian, but it had more of a grace about it. Fuel pods still clung to it, there were plenty of sensors and you could see the tiling of the ceramic heat armor even through the camouflage, but as an air-space fighter it was certainly the greatest ride Shrakenberg had ever seen. In the time that Hermes One had launched, Over-AEB had gotten an addition: A wing for the Space Defense force, chock full of sensors and ports for their new fighter. Geesvalk roughly translated to 'Ghost Falcon' in Piet's native tounge, and he thought this fighter deserved it. A stealthy, quick, and somewhat graceful killing machine, he remembered the feeling he had when he first flew a fighter jet as a nineteen year old, the rush, and he was getting it back. No matter how many times you did it in the Geesvalk, going spaceward was a rush. The aerospike scramjet roared as it started to reach escape velocity, then converting fuel over for a more efficient, exoatmospheric burn. Blue faded away to the sparkling dark, and he danced his fighter about a little on course-correction jets as he angled it towards the station, letting their autopilot take over. Sliding into the hangar bay, he made sure everything was zero-gee ready, and that his aerospacecraft was clamped in before he carefully exited: There was no gravity in the hangar. He pushed off a repair/docking arm towards the airlock, stretching a bit. While the fighter was great, the G-webs of the newer aircraft were a bit claustrophobic. As the airlock cycled, he bounced 'down' the ladder, and into the hub of the centrifugal hab ring for the military section. Another pilot was talking in the hallway nearby.
"Hey, Piet, you have a nice ride up?"
He nodded and observed the surroundings. Not quite as good as a nice hotel, but he added 'Not bad for a tin can, this place."
"You've got that right. You get a snack attack in zero gee, and you're sucking paste through a tube. With some gravity you can actually get some goddamn cooking done. Speaking of which, I'm hungry. We're gonna hit mess."
And life continued on as the new generation of spacefarers reached Over-AEB.
OOC: Here's an image of the Geesvalk...
http://img304.imageshack.us/img304/3107/aero27ne.png
Kind of inspired by those military ships from Cowboy Bebop.
IC:
[AEBSF Command-Over AEB]
The AEBSF was an odd looking attachment, almost like an upside down Over-AEB strapped to the top of the original station, with a hangar bay instead of a shipyard scaffold/dock. Another lifter/lander burned through the skies towards the station on massive dual engines, exhaust visible from under the boat-hull. The aerospace craft had launched from the seaborne landing zone near Azania, and now was course correcting as it dispensed robots and loadercraft to help deliver its cargo.
General Erik Provost stood space suited in the gray CERAMET gear that served the AEBSF. He looked no different from the rest, it was a workingman's piece of equipment, and he stood in the bay, boots magnetically clamped to the floor to avoid floating off. The spindly, hazard striped arms of a loadercraft whizzed past him as a dockworked looked on at his cargo through the bubble cockpit.
A Colonel stood beside him, overlooking the cargo itself.
"Twentyfive millimeter AHEAD ammo, Kinetic-Kill missiles, those high-manuver anti-fighter bastards, H-warshot loaded long range arms... Jesus Christ. The defense industry must be loving this."
The general turned his head, the helmet of his suit turning slightly in response, He was chewing gum, a habit he'd picked up to get him off the nico-gum they had in place of cigarettes up here. No reason to waste oxygen with a bunch of smoking cigs.
"Yeah, all sorts of mutual contracts with the miners, the industries are virtually one up here. Can't blame them. All sorts of warships and nasty shit up here. We're behind, we're small, and we've got to get moving."
OOC: Now it's present...
IC:
[Cayman Islands]
The engines of the corporate jet howled as it came in for landing. The Caribbean sea glittered and twinkled as they passed over it, a gleaming silver white aircraft with an AEB government seal on it. Coming down for landing, the first people out were the bodyguards, dressed in casual outfits, deciding it was too stuffy in the regular suits. Then came the Secretary of Commerce, Alvin De Oranje, wearing a warm-weather suit. The bodyguards fanned out as he walked to the car, one, the driver, grabbing a map to get directions to the supposed meeting area.
The Caymans were a good place to do business, relatively neutral in terms of corporates and PMCs, and it had a much lower crime rate thanks to the muscle hired to keep the image of the resort a clean one. In any case, it was unlikely this deal would go bad anyway. It was unlikely anyone was going to die for some genetically modified crops, not the Secretary of Commerce, at least.
If you've been reading my stuff, you can skip down to the part that says Cayman islands because the background has all been posted before.
Background RP (Starting at about 2080)
The Azanian Economic Bloc was born of a region of the world that had suffered economically. It was a coalition of various megacorporations, ones that learned to flaunt the laws of their weaker host government. The majority of their operations were based offshore, in international waters where they could run their businesses at will.
But times were changing. The AEB would soon expand beyond its humbled earthly borders. Projects were underway to bring the operations of the megacorps into space.
[Over AEB]
It was their most expensive investment yet. The space station started originally for materials fabrication was rapidly becoming a shipyard. Raw materials were being pulled in from Earthside to help construct an interplanetary starship: Many regions of the solar system were ripe with resources, something that interested the various mining corporations of Azania. Compared to other spacefaring nations, their technology was primitive. But they would travel on as best they could, hopefully with some help from outside nations.
[Over-AEB]
Over AEB was originally designed as a spacestation, and the older, clunkier hull section in the center reflected that. Now it was only used for storage and power supply, the Tokamak Fusion reactor humming away silently inside it. The rest of the station was arrayed out in a ring around this, with scaffodling extending from the center of it, where the ship itself was to be built. The station was completely unarmed, save for whatever hand weapons the Corporate Security Forces carried onboard. Corporate logos covered the white, radiation-hardened station, along with various sensor panels.
Over-AEB's commander was an Aerospace industry professional, James Greaves. Overseeing the construction of the AEBSS Hermes One through remote monitors, he sipped coffee through a straw (a necessity in zero-gee), when a sudden alarm light flashed, illuminating the control room.
"Sir, looks like the resupply shuttle dirtside is on docking approach."
Greaves looked at the monitor in the control room, and there it was, the wide, stubby-winged shape of an AEB shuttle. Letting the vessel dock, he bounced toward the airlock to the lift shaft, and had it move down. Usually when he used the Lift shaft along the station's spine it was filled with workers, but shift change wasn't for awhile now. Taking a turn, he waited outside as the pressure in the airlock equalized. Inside were three men, one visibly disoriented.
"First time in space?"
The nauseated man managed to crack a grin.
"Yeah. Richard Hollingsworth, and these are my colleagues Siundi Ndmali and George Harper. TransAfrica Fusion. We heard you guys needed some help with the ship's Tokamak?"
Greaves nodded, leading the men up the lift shaft towards the hub, where the control room was.
"We don't have any fusion qual guys onboard, and we're a bit ahead of schedule, so we figured we'd ring up some guys Earthside. Welcome to Over-AEB and the Hermes Project, hope you guys enjoy the stay."
"Got anywhere with gravity?" Richard croaked.
"Kind of. We got a real nice hab-weel with centrifugal rated at oh dot five Earth standard."
"Anything with a floor would be nice."
The men were lead into an airlock. There were many of these in transition areas around the ship, to prevent catastrophic failures of the internal atmosphere. After the airlock cycled, they floated through a cylinder which served as a passage. Greaves grinned a bit, adjusting himself.
"This is gonna be real disorienting, but when we get in there, gravity is gonna be that way." he pointed to his right, towards a hatch A ladder ran down the entire side of the corridor. The vibration of the rotating crew habitat could be felt if you touched to the 'wall'. Then, pointing to his right, he gestured towards a hatch.
"So when we come up, it'll be like coming out of the roof."
He tapped on a keypad.
"Get ready."
The airlock opened, and Greaves made his way down the ladder. Once everyone was there, they stood on a platform, with a staircaise leading down towhat seemed to be a hallway in a strange combination of a normal space vessel and a futuristic hotel hallway. The air filter was a steady hum, and above their heads were 'skylights' of armored 'glass'. The lights were sheets of glowstrip, not too harsh on the eye, giving the surroundings a pleasant lighting. The colors were painted in similarly passive shades.
"Designed for relaxation."
There were multiple floors, and naval-style staircases to get to them. Along the main corridor were plenty of plants and other greenery.
"Stuff we pulled up from zero-g research. These aren't our main gardens, that's a seperate sector, but we figure they look nice and they help out the air a bit too. Most of these rooms are crew cabins or storage."
They continued along the circle, towards the mess halls. It was furnished in a manner similar to those earthside, and since there was some gravity, the chow was generally better than that of the zero-gee variety. Continuing on, there were multiple gyms, as well as several recreational centers. Filled with a variety of games and entertainment, there were also models of the station itself and the yet to be completed Hermes One.
"Most of the work is done with automated stuff, but even then, lots of human supervisors and maintinance for the bots. If you want to take a peek at the vessel 'erself, we'll have to go back into the command center and take a crew elevator down the spine."
OOC: If the layout is confusing, here's a pic of the station. The black outline on the 'bottom' is the dimensions of the Hermes once it's completed.
IC:
[Earthside]
[Azania]
The floating megacity was never a dull place, but beyond the fluttering air traffic, the blimps, the ships, there was something brewing bigger in the AEB Space Projects Center.
"So are the fusion techies up?"
Project Director Nathaniel Ksuili was a native African, raised in one of the many generations under Azanian capitalism and idelogy. An accomplished businessman, he was voted by the Project Investor board to lead the Hermes program and other AEB space activities. His staff sat at the same table as him, a nice hardwood one, as a flatscreen monitor displayed images of Over-AEB and the shuttle, along with its new arrivals.
"Yes sir." spoke an aide, a woman Nathaniel knew to be a Cape Colored who's parents worked at a Kalahiri diamond mine. "It seems everything is going beautifully, but now we've got to convey that to the investors. A lot of people are getting a bit shaky about all of. In Zambia, you know, a lot bandits coming up, and now some think we need to spend more money on our military..."
"Sometimes I think this gets more annoying than the old Democracies. At least with them you could brainwash the voters through advertisement... No deal here. Everyone's doing their reading..."
"The same way inmates bone up on legal matters," another man muttered, and Ksuili allowed a chuckle. Such humor was prevalent in the matter-of-fact world that was a nation founded on business.
"Well, see if we can get Hermes moving a bit faster. Just getting the damn thing to fly will be a big confidence boost. Once we start slinging metal back to L4 or L5, we've got it made."
The conversation continued while a dirtier line of work continued elsewhere.
[Zambian Copper Mines]
[AEBRDF 55th Company]
The dropships roared over the jungle on airbreathing engines, banking and manuvering to get as low as safely possible. The pilots of the camouflaged craft were linked in neurally, sitting in their cockpits with the interface helmets on, chattering over the radio. Inside the bays of the dropships were the armored and armed commandos of the 55th AEBRDF. Todays case was unusual: Rather than the standard riots or thieveries, it was an armed assault on the highway from one of the copper mines, a supply convoy specifically.
They roared over the gaping shaft of a copper mine, and then banked hard again. In the distance something was burning, gunfire crackled and cackled as the fighting continued. Screaming down the road, a dropship moved in to drop a load of A45 Combat Armored troops, heavy battlesuits. Holding their G5 rifles and a variety of other weapons, they quickly set up a perimeter.
Sgt. Jan Nikolaas looked over the helmet visor mounted interface of his A45, robotic waldo hands on the suits arms readying the rifle for action. The enemy was a typical hodgepodge of Afircan armed banditry: Everything from old Cased Chemical rifles (OOC: The weapons of today, if you will) to one of the older tripod mounted heavy coilguns. That would have to be eliminated quickly. He raised the rifle, targeting symbology centering itself on one of the men, and fired a three round burst. It was a single crack at that rate of fire. The bandit's chest exploded, his old rifle clattering to the ground. A steady rhythm eminated from the tripod coilgun, and he thew his suit to pavement. Someone else raised the left arm of the suit, activating a riot launcher that was standard issue. But instead of CS gas, it was filled with old-style frag grenades, still useful after 200 years with little change. The launched choonked and then choonked again, a blur as the grenade canisters flew towards the coilgun. The bandits were already fleeing from it, but it was too late. The airburst caught them and threw them to the ground viciously, shrouding their deaths in a cloud of dirt and smoke.
Jan got up and quickly resumed combat. After hunting down the last of the bandits, the dropship arrived again, and the A45s clunked onboard, one after another, while a Paramed craft airlifted the wounded employees to company hospitals.
Just another day on the job, Jan thought, disengaging the A45. The armor unfolded, chest coming apart clamshell style as he fumbled for a pocket. Two blue-green caplets appeared. 'Chill' wasn't illegal, it was prescription really. He'd got hooked on it at a hospital in Nairobi before he swithced over to the A45, when a Bushman got his hands on a rifle a bit too powerful for his tastes. But he certainly didn't physically need it, some part of his mind observed as he downed the pills. Chemically? Mentally? As the drug worked its way through his body, his mind settled on different thoughts.
Just another day on the job.
[Over AEB]
Cradled in the shipyard's spindly, solar panel arms shat the husk of a ship. The forward was still a husk, a skeletal frame of support beams as pieces of radiation shielding were clamped on. Robots floated and crawled across the vessel, as humans watched from manuvering backpacks or umbilical tethers, space suited with the AEB flag on their shoulders.
Four more suited figures entered from above, holding onto a 'scooter' as it brought them towards the engine compartment. The silence was underwhelming, but it was soon covered by the sound of the radio chatter. Richard kept it on- it was reassuring to him. After being lead into a lock for the engine compartment, they walked down the unfurnished halls towards the reactor itself.
"How long you think a saftey check will take?"
"A few days, at least. Then a few more when it's finished to make sure it runs properly. I think its worth it. Sure as hell wouldn't want to be stranded out in the Belt..."
"Amen."
The vessel was still a month, at least from completion. Near the station, pods of cargo were latched onto the hull of the shipyard, waiting for their vessel to house them. The Hermes One would carry enough equipment to easily begin mining operations on multiple asteroids.
Now it was a matter of time.
[Over AEB]
There it was. 325 meters of aluminum, radiation shielding, lunacrete, and trailbrazing work for the AEB. The entire station, and indeed, the entire nation watched the event carefully. AEB had set up a variety of webcams and live-television cameras around the site, and you could turn into many channels or download a stream off of the internet to witness the final Tokamak check of the Hermes One.
Months after they first ventured inside the Hermes One, those four men went back into the ship, and now they were finally emerging again. No emotion could be detected through their space suits as they egressed, but everyone knew they entire station was filled with excitement.
In another few days, they would be launching towards the 'Aten' Belt. This was much better for the Hermes One than starting a full scale Belt enterprise because the Aten belt is closer to the Earth, thus making it a better 'test' voyage for the Hermes, and it would give them enough resources to begin construction of more materials, making the Belt trip more profitable.
[Factory-Ship L5-A-1]
This was wasn't a ship so much as a space station with engines. Nuke-rocketed to Lagrange Five, the Factory Ship was chock full of construction and refining materials for the payloads that would be incoming from Aten. It was empty until now.
The Cycler 'Tweety' wasn't a glorious spacecraft. A big bulky carrier section attached to an engine module, mostly made from materials of the spent-fuel boosters from the shuttle launches. A masterwork of improvisation, it was now carrying the crew to the Factory Ship. The Factory Ship itself had a small centrifugal hab-ring, it was mostly automated. However, it still needed a crew of human overseers.
[Hermes One]
Commander David Gltunbo smiled as he looked over his vessel. A former fighter pilot who'd gone into aerospace, this was all of his dreams come true. He was going to be the commander of the nation's greatest spacecraft yet. He would be in the ship's command section for the initial burn- it would be easier to work if gravity was pushing him down rather than hitting him from the side.
The attitude thrusters were doing rapid fire volleys of corrective manuvering as a small 'tug' like vessel lead them out of the shipyard. It would take 15 minutes, but one didn't want to break the shipyard or the Hermes. Once it was several kilometers clear of the station, the initial burn began. An alarm was sounded to indicate to the rest of the crew, and the fusion reactor began to work on its reaction mass. The ship began accelerating on a precisely tuned course to the Aten belt.
[Cycler 'Tweety']
A collective sigh of relief filled the commlink as the cycler decclerated, and they watched through lunaglass armored viewports as the factoryship awaited them. The crew of 100 would be cycled over in groups.
Factory Ship L5-A1 met them with a magnetic airlock, docking arms embracing the cycler onto its steel-aluminum hull. Massive solar panels unfurled like a robotic flower, supplementing the fusion reactors. The vast majority of operations here would be automated, using the latest in zero gravity manufacturing techniques. Now all they needed was resources.
[Aten Belt]
[Hermes One]
The Hermes One began to discharge the equipment that had been strapped to its hull and cargo modules: in space, aerodynamics was not an issue, One was the equivalent of an overpacked truck. Minature space stations, small centrifugal habitats were all set up as the home away from home for the miners that would oversee the robotic equipment. As the massive asteroids passed slowly by, crews and robots worked to set up the magnetic filter-canopy on one of the asteroids. A giant conical dome, the canopy would minimze excess debris and help sort out metals from nonmetals.
Gltunbo watched from the command deck as the space station/processor assembly was put into place. It would match orbit with their current asteroid. It was a fairly simple centrifuge and central storage hub, but the centrifuge was lined with booster-tugs for the processed asteroid material. It would be a week before they started sending anything to L5-A-1, but after that they'd simply move on to a new asteroid. Armored CERMET spacesuits made their way across asteroid and station alike as the mining operations began in earnest.
[Tanganyika Proving Grounds]
Major Piet van Shrakenberg grinned under the visor of his direct neural interface helmet, his body and suit nestled in a protective environment g-web as he tried out his newest aircraft.
The Geesvalk Fighter was a marvel of Azanian engineering. Like the other vessels of Azania, it was utilitarian, but it had more of a grace about it. Fuel pods still clung to it, there were plenty of sensors and you could see the tiling of the ceramic heat armor even through the camouflage, but as an air-space fighter it was certainly the greatest ride Shrakenberg had ever seen. In the time that Hermes One had launched, Over-AEB had gotten an addition: A wing for the Space Defense force, chock full of sensors and ports for their new fighter. Geesvalk roughly translated to 'Ghost Falcon' in Piet's native tounge, and he thought this fighter deserved it. A stealthy, quick, and somewhat graceful killing machine, he remembered the feeling he had when he first flew a fighter jet as a nineteen year old, the rush, and he was getting it back. No matter how many times you did it in the Geesvalk, going spaceward was a rush. The aerospike scramjet roared as it started to reach escape velocity, then converting fuel over for a more efficient, exoatmospheric burn. Blue faded away to the sparkling dark, and he danced his fighter about a little on course-correction jets as he angled it towards the station, letting their autopilot take over. Sliding into the hangar bay, he made sure everything was zero-gee ready, and that his aerospacecraft was clamped in before he carefully exited: There was no gravity in the hangar. He pushed off a repair/docking arm towards the airlock, stretching a bit. While the fighter was great, the G-webs of the newer aircraft were a bit claustrophobic. As the airlock cycled, he bounced 'down' the ladder, and into the hub of the centrifugal hab ring for the military section. Another pilot was talking in the hallway nearby.
"Hey, Piet, you have a nice ride up?"
He nodded and observed the surroundings. Not quite as good as a nice hotel, but he added 'Not bad for a tin can, this place."
"You've got that right. You get a snack attack in zero gee, and you're sucking paste through a tube. With some gravity you can actually get some goddamn cooking done. Speaking of which, I'm hungry. We're gonna hit mess."
And life continued on as the new generation of spacefarers reached Over-AEB.
OOC: Here's an image of the Geesvalk...
http://img304.imageshack.us/img304/3107/aero27ne.png
Kind of inspired by those military ships from Cowboy Bebop.
IC:
[AEBSF Command-Over AEB]
The AEBSF was an odd looking attachment, almost like an upside down Over-AEB strapped to the top of the original station, with a hangar bay instead of a shipyard scaffold/dock. Another lifter/lander burned through the skies towards the station on massive dual engines, exhaust visible from under the boat-hull. The aerospace craft had launched from the seaborne landing zone near Azania, and now was course correcting as it dispensed robots and loadercraft to help deliver its cargo.
General Erik Provost stood space suited in the gray CERAMET gear that served the AEBSF. He looked no different from the rest, it was a workingman's piece of equipment, and he stood in the bay, boots magnetically clamped to the floor to avoid floating off. The spindly, hazard striped arms of a loadercraft whizzed past him as a dockworked looked on at his cargo through the bubble cockpit.
A Colonel stood beside him, overlooking the cargo itself.
"Twentyfive millimeter AHEAD ammo, Kinetic-Kill missiles, those high-manuver anti-fighter bastards, H-warshot loaded long range arms... Jesus Christ. The defense industry must be loving this."
The general turned his head, the helmet of his suit turning slightly in response, He was chewing gum, a habit he'd picked up to get him off the nico-gum they had in place of cigarettes up here. No reason to waste oxygen with a bunch of smoking cigs.
"Yeah, all sorts of mutual contracts with the miners, the industries are virtually one up here. Can't blame them. All sorts of warships and nasty shit up here. We're behind, we're small, and we've got to get moving."
OOC: Now it's present...
IC:
[Cayman Islands]
The engines of the corporate jet howled as it came in for landing. The Caribbean sea glittered and twinkled as they passed over it, a gleaming silver white aircraft with an AEB government seal on it. Coming down for landing, the first people out were the bodyguards, dressed in casual outfits, deciding it was too stuffy in the regular suits. Then came the Secretary of Commerce, Alvin De Oranje, wearing a warm-weather suit. The bodyguards fanned out as he walked to the car, one, the driver, grabbing a map to get directions to the supposed meeting area.
The Caymans were a good place to do business, relatively neutral in terms of corporates and PMCs, and it had a much lower crime rate thanks to the muscle hired to keep the image of the resort a clean one. In any case, it was unlikely this deal would go bad anyway. It was unlikely anyone was going to die for some genetically modified crops, not the Secretary of Commerce, at least.