Commander Serinea responding to hails

[Serinea]

Good evening commanders, for what time can there be but evening among the stars and in the void?

(( tl;dr, long post semi rp, but perhaps a bit of fun to read, skip to the end for a very little bit about me ))

I am Serinea, a commander as designated in the pilots federation, curently ranked a competent merchant and pathfinder. I was born, daughter to indentured slaves working their tenure on a beluga liner, in the witch space between stars of the core systems, legally unregistered with the Empire, Federation, Alliance, or any planet in the Independant Worlds.

For many years I worked alongside my parents at the grace of our commander, a Kinght of the Empire's courts and navy, learning how to use properly a remlock before i could walk. My experiences on the beluga, Pride of Time, came to an end in december of 3300, our commander had pased away of old age peacefully, his son inheriting his ship and slaves. At first none of us thought anything of it, but it turned out that this commander, wet behind the ears and full of himself, had never even flown an interplanetary shuttle, let alone one of the largest starships currently in the void, and it showed. it was his maiden voyage, in more ways than one, to command, to flight, and to combat it turned out.

We were cornered by a pack of small vessels, individually little more than gnats on the hide of a rhino, but in a pack, like ravenous sharks circling an aging whale. our new commander had left port with a full hold and no support, but we slaves didn't know this until the lights turned sour and the air thin, breaches in the hull spreading the most precious thing a ship can carry, it's crew's air, into space.

We ran to where the life rafts and escape pods should have been, but found only sealed portals, the fool had sold the crew's rafts for the extra ton or two of weight it allowed him to carry in gold. but doomed we were not, even when we ran to thr bridge and found that, as designed, it had seperated and carried the commander fleeing off into the void, the bright blue flame of it's emergency escape system burning like a tail between his legs as he ran.

But doomed we were not, though at the time i didn't know this, space sucked away our atmosphere, our remlocks closed around us and our ships suits sealing tight, giving us precious minutes of survival. The sharks had their goal, their target lay open before them, sectioned by beam and cannon, and they scooped up all that they found, gold by the ton, almost too much for them to carry and what slaves they could recover. the last thing i actually remember from that was the maw of a ship, dark red in the pale starlight closing around me as i floated among the crates.

I came too, and found that i was in luck. the sharks, for to this day i know not who or what they actually were, had returned to their base to count the spoils and divide their reward. By provenance perhaps they missed me, perhaps the holds were that tight with booty, perhaps they knew of me but did not care, or perhaps they were keeping me to pass around later just thinking i was unconscious, or even dead as by this point my mask had surely ran out of power.

However it occoured i found myself at liberty in one way or another in the cavenous asteroid hold out of these sharks, i could hear in the distance sounds of their meriment, but i could see around me the ships of their pack. checking through them i eventually found one, decrepit, damaged almost to the point of failure, and almost an antique with it's age. I do know what came over me at the sight of it though, this, this lone sidewinder could prove my beginning, my salvation. Carefully i crept in, checking it's systems, finding it, barely, airtight and just about flight worthy, i settled down to wait, and wait. a whole day passed, as days are counted out beyond the influence of a planets gravity, bu the silent ticking of a clock. And no one came. So i took my chance, using reacion controls only hatches sealed as tight as i could, small puffs of hypergollic gas maneuvering the tiny craft at a bare creap i exited the hangar.

Freedom at last

Freedom, in a museum piece, less hull than a paper plane, a sip of fuel for the frameshift drive, and about enough atmospher for 3 slow breaths, but freedom and escape.

So on i flew, once clear of the asteroides i plotted a course for the nearest star, crossed my fingers and prayed that the very univers wasn't wanting me to join it, i hit the jump activation sequence.

Born in witchspace, that has always felt like home to me, it's patterns colours, sounds and the pure chaos of it, so beautiful and terrifying. But it carried me in it's embrace through and out the other side.

Real space, silent, empty, calm, and as deadly as a slug of metal from the barrel of a railgun spread before me, a star looming ahead i tweisted, scorching my belly and was slingshot off, my last controls melted away and barreling me onwards, vents and hull glowing cherry red.

i blacked out from the heat and violence of my re-entry from my safety, only coming to again as sirens blared and warnings came through the tannoys. the sidewinders engines failed then, the sudden jolt of being vioplently dropped from supercruise almost catapulting me like a fly onto the windshield. and there i was, spinning slowly through space, directly towards a dock, Threvithic Station emblazoned on it's side.

And that's how my life began, there is more, and yet less to my tale, some may never be told, and others may be bragged of in the future to come.

But there is one last thing... some nights i dream, a beating of engines, a null co-ordinate, an archer, and a ball made of carbon atoms, these things haunt me, and i know that i must answer them. I tried once before, Nhilistic Nightmares, a stripped down sidewinder carrying my fifteen thousand lightyears on a course, but i had not listened to the dream. One day though i will.

(( new member to the mobious group here, perhaps not sounding like i might, nor looking as i would wish, and unfortunately harking from south east of england rather than the depths of witch space, we are all born from the dust of exploding stars however, and to their embrace we eventually return, hope to see you out there commanders, fly safe and watch for the sharks with sharp teeth ))

[Myrm]

Hi Serinea

I skipped to the final paragraph (I can't be bothered to read a load of text just to read somebody saying hello)

Welcome to the world if Mobius. Hope to see you out there somewhere.

[Serinea]

No worries Myrm, i'm not normally quite so wordy, was just going to say hello actually, but i started typing and that just rolled off they keyboardand into the box, and then i noticed that an hour had past so though tit would be a shame not to post it

[Myrm]

Indeed. I've done the same thing myself in the past >.<

[JohnLuke]

Welcome to Mobius, Commander Serinea. You sir, obviously have a far more creative mind than I.

A lot of Mobius commanders hang around our home system of Azrael in Empire space, if you want to stop in and say "Hi" sometime.

Please feel free to add your name to the In game friends list thread, and check out our TeamSpeak servers to easily chat with, and possibly wing up with other commanders.

Also, make sure to check the Policy page if you haven't already.

On top of all of that, we also have a Facebook group and Twitter feed.

There is a lot of great info on the message board, and we have compiled a long list of Tips and Tricks to help new players acclimatize to the game while having fun.

Finally, if you are interested in being involved, go here to see information about our player group faction, the Order of Mobius. We have our own Discord (voice and text chat) servers for supporters of Mobius, as well as our own Order of Mobius Twitter feed.

[Schmobius]

Good evening commanders, for what time can there be but evening among the stars and in the void?

(( tl;dr, long post semi rp, but perhaps a bit of fun to read, skip to the end for a very little bit about me ))

I am Serinea, a commander as designated in the pilots federation, curently ranked a competent merchant and pathfinder. I was born, daughter to indentured slaves working their tenure on a beluga liner, in the witch space between stars of the core systems, legally unregistered with the Empire, Federation, Alliance, or any planet in the Independant Worlds.

For many years I worked alongside my parents at the grace of our commander, a Kinght of the Empire's courts and navy, learning how to use properly a remlock before i could walk. My experiences on the beluga, Pride of Time, came to an end in december of 3300, our commander had pased away of old age peacefully, his son inheriting his ship and slaves. At first none of us thought anything of it, but it turned out that this commander, wet behind the ears and full of himself, had never even flown an interplanetary shuttle, let alone one of the largest starships currently in the void, and it showed. it was his maiden voyage, in more ways than one, to command, to flight, and to combat it turned out.

We were cornered by a pack of small vessels, individually little more than gnats on the hide of a rhino, but in a pack, like ravenous sharks circling an aging whale. our new commander had left port with a full hold and no support, but we slaves didn't know this until the lights turned sour and the air thin, breaches in the hull spreading the most precious thing a ship can carry, it's crew's air, into space.

We ran to where the life rafts and escape pods should have been, but found only sealed portals, the fool had sold the crew's rafts for the extra ton or two of weight it allowed him to carry in gold. but doomed we were not, even when we ran to thr bridge and found that, as designed, it had seperated and carried the commander fleeing off into the void, the bright blue flame of it's emergency escape system burning like a tail between his legs as he ran.

But doomed we were not, though at the time i didn't know this, space sucked away our atmosphere, our remlocks closed around us and our ships suits sealing tight, giving us precious minutes of survival. The sharks had their goal, their target lay open before them, sectioned by beam and cannon, and they scooped up all that they found, gold by the ton, almost too much for them to carry and what slaves they could recover. the last thing i actually remember from that was the maw of a ship, dark red in the pale starlight closing around me as i floated among the crates.

I came too, and found that i was in luck. the sharks, for to this day i know not who or what they actually were, had returned to their base to count the spoils and divide their reward. By provenance perhaps they missed me, perhaps the holds were that tight with booty, perhaps they knew of me but did not care, or perhaps they were keeping me to pass around later just thinking i was unconscious, or even dead as by this point my mask had surely ran out of power.

However it occoured i found myself at liberty in one way or another in the cavenous asteroid hold out of these sharks, i could hear in the distance sounds of their meriment, but i could see around me the ships of their pack. checking through them i eventually found one, decrepit, damaged almost to the point of failure, and almost an antique with it's age. I do know what came over me at the sight of it though, this, this lone sidewinder could prove my beginning, my salvation. Carefully i crept in, checking it's systems, finding it, barely, airtight and just about flight worthy, i settled down to wait, and wait. a whole day passed, as days are counted out beyond the influence of a planets gravity, bu the silent ticking of a clock. And no one came. So i took my chance, using reacion controls only hatches sealed as tight as i could, small puffs of hypergollic gas maneuvering the tiny craft at a bare creap i exited the hangar.

Freedom at last

Freedom, in a museum piece, less hull than a paper plane, a sip of fuel for the frameshift drive, and about enough atmospher for 3 slow breaths, but freedom and escape.

So on i flew, once clear of the asteroides i plotted a course for the nearest star, crossed my fingers and prayed that the very univers wasn't wanting me to join it, i hit the jump activation sequence.

Born in witchspace, that has always felt like home to me, it's patterns colours, sounds and the pure chaos of it, so beautiful and terrifying. But it carried me in it's embrace through and out the other side.

Real space, silent, empty, calm, and as deadly as a slug of metal from the barrel of a railgun spread before me, a star looming ahead i tweisted, scorching my belly and was slingshot off, my last controls melted away and barreling me onwards, vents and hull glowing cherry red.

i blacked out from the heat and violence of my re-entry from my safety, only coming to again as sirens blared and warnings came through the tannoys. the sidewinders engines failed then, the sudden jolt of being vioplently dropped from supercruise almost catapulting me like a fly onto the windshield. and there i was, spinning slowly through space, directly towards a dock, Threvithic Station emblazoned on it's side.

And that's how my life began, there is more, and yet less to my tale, some may never be told, and others may be bragged of in the future to come.

But there is one last thing... some nights i dream, a beating of engines, a null co-ordinate, an archer, and a ball made of carbon atoms, these things haunt me, and i know that i must answer them. I tried once before, Nhilistic Nightmares, a stripped down sidewinder carrying my fifteen thousand lightyears on a course, but i had not listened to the dream. One day though i will.

(( new member to the mobious group here, perhaps not sounding like i might, nor looking as i would wish, and unfortunately harking from south east of england rather than the depths of witch space, we are all born from the dust of exploding stars however, and to their embrace we eventually return, hope to see you out there commanders, fly safe and watch for the sharks with sharp teeth ))

I don't know why, but I giggled slightly at the mental image of the captain speeding away in his lifeboat, probably waving middle fingers at both the crew and the pirates.