tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-65141356396187549722024-03-13T11:48:00.327-07:00It's Just BusinessTales about the cutthroat world of New Eden from a trader's perspective.Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comBlogger25125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-36990699015115640372009-11-11T21:51:00.000-08:002009-11-12T02:26:00.013-08:00On the Importance of HonorAll trade is based on contracts. In order to be able to predict outcomes and thus make wise decisions, a trader must be able to rely on contracts being honored. This holds true even when it's not goods that are being traded, but services. <a href="http://www.eveonline.com/ingameboard.asp?a=topic&threadID=1212582">One of our acquaintances learned this lesson the hard way</a>.<br /><br />The transaction in question was a <a href="http://noir.pinacoderm.com/killboard/?a=cc_detail&ctr_id=87">mercenary contract</a>, where the service in question was military support. My associates had encountered these mercenaries already, and the monthly war declarations were late, so it was not hard to put two and two together and conclude that whoever that had been hiring the Privateers had switched to using Noir. With our current logistics arrangements, the client did not get their money's worth and switched to a more high-quality service provider. That is a very reasonable course of action, but higher-quality service also warrants a higher price tag. And one never, ever should agree to a contract that you cannot fulfill. Especially when your business partners not only wield financial and political power, but also considerable military power. An unfulfilled contract just might persuade them to to extract their fee <a href="http://noir.pinacoderm.com/killboard/?a=cc_detail&ctr_id=88">using other means</a>.Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-16516583253819931132009-10-28T00:05:00.001-07:002009-11-12T02:26:13.893-08:00Choosing Which Bridge to BurnMy desk is a mess. Starmaps, sovereignty maps, NeoCom chat logs, intel reports, starbase loadouts, asset manifests, sales history charts and the recent draft of the new CONCORD directives. Risk mitigation is nonexistent, cost-benefit analysis is highly pessimistic and the political analysis is highly hostile. I hear a knock.<div> <br></div><div>"Come in, Miss Ashley."</div><div>"Present as ordered, sir."</div><div>"Your new orders are to board the Value of Trust at the earliest opportunity and fly it to the staging area. Here is the flight plan. Upon arrival, you will scout the surrounding systems and prepare for the arrival of the Insatiable Ambition, which I will be piloting."</div> <div>"How long do I have to wait?"</div><div>"The flight plan for the Ambition is still incomplete, so it'll probably take a day or two. After you've finished the preparations, you will clone jump back to the Forge region, and schedule a job interview."</div> <div>"Job interview? For who?"</div><div><br></div><div>I hand her the intel report.</div><div><br></div><div>"An Amarrian? I thought you guys hate 'em."</div><div>"Prejudices are simply obstacles preventing otherwise viable business ventures. That's why I'm sending you. Our current political affiliations notwithstanding, you're still Caldari and the last time I checked, the Caldari State and the Amarr Empire were allies. You will represent me in all dealings with him, and you will not mention my name, ethnicity or any other information that could be useful in identifying me."</div> <div>"So this is strictly business? No role-reversal fantasies involved?"</div><div>"I didn't say that. But yes, this is mostly business. Even if we don't factor in in this.. mess, I still need an unaffiliated third party to divest assets without attracting unwanted attention."</div> <div>"Anything else?"</div><div>"Find mister Parker for me. He's probably in the entertainment district. If he seems unwilling, tell him that his.. supplies have already been relocated to the staging area."</div> <div>"Will do, sir."</div><div>"Just.. don't smile like that when you tell him."</div><div>"Aaw."</div><div>"Dismissed."</div><div><br></div><div><div>With the distractions out of the way, I can now focus on the real problem. I have a reasonable customer base here and a relatively large percentage of assets tied in the market operations. I'll need any and all assets in the new theatre of operations, but shutting down my ventures here will cause some political issues. And so would making a halfhearted attempt in the new venture. A complete divestment or hedging my bets would probably burn both bridges. I'm out of my comfort zone. This isn't just business, it's politics, and I'm no good in using smoke and mirrors in place of cold, objective numbers.</div> <div><br></div><div>Still, this is a lesson that I need to learn.</div><div><br></div><div><div><br></div></div></div>Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-17513551861056107762009-09-21T03:13:00.000-07:002009-11-12T02:26:24.430-08:00A Priority Delivery"Yes? Calm down. Just repeat what the message said. To where? Now? How<br>much? Yes, I see how that could be a problem. Notify miss Ashley and<br>ask her to get the Cowardly Bee to the pickup point. Yes, this takes<br>priority over her current assignment. Yes, I'm aware of the standing<br>orders. No, I'll handle it. Yes. Notify the crew, I'll be there<br>momentarily."<p>I hurry towards the hangars at an undignified pace, my mind busy<br>evaluating half a dozen flight paths and scenarios. It's amazing how<br>far humanity has progressed, yet so few grasp the concept that items<br>do not magically appear where they are needed. Sizable infrastructures<br>are planned, created, operated, optimized and maintained to make it<br>happen. But this time there is no time to do it properly. The alliance<br>holdings are under attack, a cynosural jammer tower has been disabled<br>in a key system, and multiple enemy strongholds have been set up. And<br>now they realize that the replacement tower is sitting in a hangar in<br>an another region, in a system that attracts a lot of otherwise<br>welcome attention. But this time I'll have to use the the Invisible<br>Hand, so subterfuge is not an option.<p>I quickly greet the personnel and continue without breaking stride<br>into the locker room. Within a few moments I'm back in the darkness of<br>the pod. After a few clunks the camera drones activate, slowly<br>orbiting the freighter. I've never understood why the Thukkers decided<br>to use camouflage on a spaceship, but this is not a time to complain<br>about aesthetics. The traffic control gives the go-ahead and I set the<br>engines to full thrust.<p>---<p>"Miss Ashley?"<br>"In position as ordered, sir. Why am I here again? The fleet commander.."<br>"I'll deal with him. What's the status of the system"<br>"Small enemy fleet on the gate leading to State territory, no contacts<br>on the inbound gate. Intel reports a small fleet approaching, so it's<br>now or never."<br>"On my way."<br>"Standing by."<p>With a roar, the engines hurl the freighter towards the gate. During<br>the approach deceleration, the scanner reports first one, then two,<br>then six contacts. "Our guests are here. Be ready." With a flash, the<br>Invisible Hand goes through the gate.<p>As soon as the sensors recalibrate, I turn the ship towards the<br>station. On cue, the Cowardly Bee assumes a 10km orbit. Struggling<br>against the Bee's webification field, the engines roar and whisk the<br>freighter away.<p>"Gate activation.. two.. six.. eight hostiles. That was an<br>unacceptable risk, sir."<br>"But necessary, as you will find out after I retrieve the cargo. Do<br>you still have the sound profile I sent you?"<br>"Yes, but.. it's hardly dignifying to play that on open comms.."<br>"That's why it was made. It's alliance policy."<br>"I assume there's a humorous, yet ironic story behind it?"<br>"Naturally, but that was before my time, so I don't have the specifics."<br>"Playing it now."<p>I've heard this before, so I shut down the system communication<br>channel. While our guests try to triangulate which of my associates'<br>ships in the system is taunting them, I'm free to examine the cargo<br>manifest. One large tower, a dozen jammers and two dozens of guns,<br>fuel for a month.. and the all-important cynosural field jammer. After<br>the containers have been loaded, I open the comm channels again. Based<br>on the expletives, our guests are too busy to notice the Invisible<br>Hand obtaining undocking permissions and entering warp as soon as the<br>safety protocols allow it.<p>"That's enough, miss Ashley. Head to the first checkpoint, it's time<br>to enter the warzone."Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-35028059461229485382009-05-27T00:41:00.000-07:002009-11-12T02:26:33.469-08:00On GougingWith the addition of several new associates, we now have a whole new region as our playground. Fortunately for me, some of the former owners of said region have started to gouge the market.<div><br></div><div>But the uncomfortable truth is that gouging is basically a one-entity cartel and thus can only work when all providers collude to keep the prices high. Any small, agile actor such as myself will be able to throw a spanner into the works by providing adequately-priced goods. In that situation, there are only three possible outcomes. First, the gouger could choose to ignore me and let me seize the market share while he gets stuck with unsold goods. Secondly, he could buy my goods and relist them at his price. This only gives me an additional incentive to bring in more goods, because his actions alone keep the demand up. I get my profit every time and can reinvest it into the market. And finally, he could abandon his price-gouging scheme and engage me in healthy competition. In any case, my associates get access to reasonably-priced goods.</div>Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-35836738120397877922009-03-17T03:26:00.000-07:002009-11-12T02:26:41.327-08:00A Chicken and an Egg Problem<div>"There's more minerals here than I can keep track of!"</div>Mr. Parker's message was somewhat shorter than I expected. I did not know whether it's because he's been too busy or too stoned to count, so I made the trip myself.<div> <br></div><div>Fortunately, it's the former. The total value of the minerals comfortably exceeds my planned expenditures.. assuming that I can get them sold. The corporation has put the production efforts on hold, because the majority of the alliance is busy up north assisting our associates. Thus there's no local demand. That leaves transporting them to Empire space to be sold. The problem is that delivering all those minerals would require a lot of trips with the Silent Whisper, presenting a too large window of opportunity for our adversaries. A Rorqual would be ideal for the trip.. but I can't buy one unless I get the minerals sold.</div>Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-69151003178701949462009-02-20T01:59:00.001-08:002010-05-03T20:17:46.355-07:00Among the Forgotten<div>The Fleeting Thought decelerates and stops next to the slowly drifting derelict. The spotlights sweep the hull and focus on the airlock.</div><div>"Time to earn your pay, gentlemen."</div><div>I stay inside while my crew makes their way towards the airlock.</div> <div>"How does it look?"</div><div>"The door is offline. We'll get it open manually."</div><div>"Notify me when you're done."</div><div> "Will do."</div><div><br></div><div>---</div><div><br></div><div>"We're entering the bridge, there seems to be no obvious signs of damage. We'll know for sure when you get here, sir."</div><div> "How's the pod cradle?"</div><div>"Turning it on now.. seems to be working just fine."</div><div>"On my way."</div><div>My pod disentangles from the shuttle, leaving a dry husk of metal behind. I fly around the ship, towards the pod entry hatch. I've always found the Mammoth-class industrials to be unnecessarily ominous in low lighting conditions, and open cargo bay doors only amplify the effect. With all of the debris floating around, the ship looks like it was gutted, proverbially and literally. I circle around to the lit side. The pod locks into the guiding beacon and slides into position above the hatch.</div> <div>"Docking."</div><div>The camera drones slide back into the pod, and I'm blind and deaf for a moment. As the pod makes contact with the ship, I hear the familiar series of clicks and rumblings as the series of hatches and armor plates close above me. The pod stops and gives the ship a proverbial breath of life.</div> <div>"Running startup sequence.. self-diagnostics okay.. outer hull is sealed.. Firing up air recyclers.. it's safe to take off your suits now."</div><div>"Roger that."</div><div>As the sensor systems go online, I feel more and more like the ship. I can hear the crew walking inside me. The camera drones activate, and I can see again.</div> <div>"Make your way to the engine room, I'm not getting any readings from there."</div><div>"Will do."<br> <div><br></div><div>As the crew advances, I activate and unseal the sections to carve them a path through the ship. It feels like having blood course through a numb limb.</div><div><br></div><div>"It looks like whatever crew that was here left in a hurry. The powergrid cables were left hanging, and the afterburner is not secured properly."<br> </div><div>"Get on it, then. The sooner we have working engines, the sooner we can get back to friendly space."</div><div>"Way ahead of you, sir."</div><div><br></div><div>While the crew works, I keep reactivating sections of the ship and explore my latest acquisition. Most of the ship is in a decent shape, but I make a mental note to get some drones and fedos to sanitize the crew quarters and get rid of the scratch marks before I let anyone in there. </div> <div><br></div><div>"We're done here, sir."</div><div>"Onlining the engines in 5.. 4.. 3.. "</div><div><br></div><div>With a rumble, I can feel the ship stabilize.</div><div><br></div><div>"Good work. Now, off to our real objective.."</div> <div><br></div><div>I set an approach course to the crates floating nearby and begin transporting the ore into the cargo bay. Bistot, Crokite, Arkonor.. even Mercoxit. The ship alone is worth millions, but this cargo is a whole different matter altogether. There's quite a bit of veldspar and scordite as well, but those aren't worth hauling back. I align towards the gate and leave the rest behind.</div> </div>Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-82003271148136594922009-02-03T02:17:00.001-08:002009-02-03T02:17:14.906-08:00On the Precipe of Commitment<div>Three hundred and sixty million ISK. I've had used lump sums larger than that many times before, but this time I'm investing on a very unreliable enterprise: myself.</div><div><br></div><div>I have no idea when and how I'll recoup that investment, but I do know that it needs to be made. In a matter of a few days, Mr. Parker has mined a considerable amount of ore in one of the remote regions of the galaxy. I've been providing him logistics support so far, but it's clear that the Silent Whisper is not the right tool to move several hundreds of cubic kilometers of ore. With the Invisible Hand, I had a clear plan of recouping my investment, and the gargantuan freighter did it's job admirably. But that was in the safety of Republic space, where there was little chance of losing said investment. In here, unexpected consequences can arise quickly and not let go. Even worse, this investment is useless unless I invest about one-and-a-half billion more for the Capital Industrial skill and the Rorqual itself. I feel like I'm looking down on a cliff, getting ready to fly. I can feel both the thrill of freedom and the terror of plummeting already.<br> <div><br></div></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-32023122889636094172009-02-02T05:29:00.001-08:002009-02-02T05:29:53.564-08:00The Price of Loyalty<div>I slowly glide my shuttle into the final approach. It feels odd to be piloting something manually for a change. There was an old Amarrian man on the platform, waiting for me.</div><div><br></div><div>"Welcome."</div> <div><br></div><div>As he gave me the tour of the facilities, I saw that this place was ideal for my purposes. Many of the residents looked quite anemic and thus were appropriately passive. Nobody would have the strength to interfere. The rest of the evening was uneventful. We dined and there was some entertainment. I politely declined to participate and eventually retired into my room for the rest of the evening. After breakfast, I made my proposition.</div> <div><br></div><div>"It seems that some of your residents have some health problems."</div><div>"As much as it pains me to say so, nobody lasts forever. We do perform purgings when we must."</div> <div>"What do you mean by.. purgings?"</div><div>"Incineration."</div><div>"Ah. Such a waste."</div><div>"Excuse me?"</div><div>"Just because the blood is tainted it doesn't diminish the value of the rest."</div> <div>"I'm listening."</div><div>"If you would give the unsuitables to me and provide me with a room where my privacy is ensured, I would make sure that you are appropriately compensated for your kindness."</div> <div>"We are not supposed to.."</div><div>"Think of it as a means to an end. You get some much-needed funding to support whatever goals you may have."</div><div>"And what about you?"</div><div> "I get to do whatever I want inside that room."</div><div>"I think we can reach an agreement."</div><div><br></div><div>--</div><div><br></div><div>At first, Desmond didn't know what he had been drafted to do. All he knew that people who were in above-average shape were ordered to report to the shuttle platform. Aside from the two guards, there was nothing there.</div> <div>"Sir? Work group reporting as ordered."</div><div>"Stand by. Our client will arrive soon."</div><div>Eventually, a golden shuttle descended from the clouds and landed on the platform. Out came a figure dressed in a simple, white robe. He motioned them forward and they carried several large crates from the shuttle into one of the unused rooms.</div> <div>"Thank you. That will be all."</div><div>There was a distinct accent in his voice.</div><div><br></div><div>Throughout the next night, they heard screams echo across the facility. In the morning, they carried a crate back into the shuttle. Next week, the visitor would come back with an empty crate, and depart with a full one. Old <span style="white-space:pre">"patients" </span>were gradually replaced with new ones. Rumors spread. Eventually, it was Desmond's turn. The guards dragged him up from his bed and restained him into a gurney. The room was grimy, and dirty surgical implements were strewn across the makeshift tables. And in the center of the room stood the visitor.</div> <div><br></div><div>"Welcome. This is the room where you will be reborn. Close the door, please."</div><div>The guards left the room hastily.</div><div><br></div><div>Desmond's patience had paid off. The guards had not noticed that he had been whittling his restraints into a breaking point with a makeshift knife. He lunged at me and my head hit the floor with a telltale clank. His hand squeezed around my throat, with his other arm ready to strike with the knife..</div> <div><br></div><div>"You have the divine implants, but you're a Vherokior. Blasphemy. And you work for the Sani Sabik. Heresy."</div><div>I can hear the guards pounding on the door.<br></div><div> "They won't get here in time."</div><div>"..."</div><div>Fortunately, I do not need my vocal cords to speak. My voice blares out from the hidden speakers.<br></div><div>"HOW DARE YOU!"</div> <div>I crossfade my exclamation into the pre-recorded track. Screams and sounds of violence fill the air. The pounding on the door stops.</div> <div>"What the.. What trickery is this?!""<br></div><div>"I..can..explain.."</div><div>Desmond eases his grip, but only a little.</div><div>"I apologize for the theatrics. It was necessary for your safety as well as mine. My blood is quite valuable to them."</div> <div>"What is a capsuleer doing here?"</div><div>"Saving as many as I can."</div><div>"Lies, we're like insects to you."</div><div>"I'm not doing this out of the goodness of my heart, no. But I'm the only chance you have. Nobody's going to look for you. You don't exist anymore."</div> <div>".."</div><div>"You've all been dead for a month. Ever since the emancipation."</div><div>"What emancipation?"</div><div>"They didn't tell you? Ah, of course. No need for you to know."</div> <div>He tightens his grip.</div><div>"I do need to know."</div><div>"Empress Sarum has set you free. Employees require more upkeep than slaves, so your holder sold you and claimed that you all had died."<br> </div><div>I can feel him easing his grip.</div> <div>"And what does all this have to you with you?"</div><div>"I'm always on the lookout for workers, and the emancipation flooded the black market with viable candidates, so to speak. It turns out that not only loyalty can be bought, it's also rather cheap. That shuttle and my arrangement here with the Sani Sabik are a small price to pay for a factory that runs like clockwork."</div> <div>".."</div><div>"Of course, I couldn't participate in the auctions myself, that would have attracted undue attention. But few people dare to ask too many questions about the Sani Sabik. And those that do, tend to bomb from orbit and ask questions later."</div> <div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>"So.. what now?"</div><div>"You can stay here, or you could let me smuggle you out in that crate."</div><div>"What kind of choice is that?"</div> <div>"An easy one. Nobody has refused yet."</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-19196323741909952162009-01-31T03:20:00.001-08:002009-01-31T03:20:50.836-08:00Like Children to a FlyThey're nervous, but I don't blame them. They're in a thinly-shielded transport. They have attracted the attention by one of the more notorious mercenary corporations in the galaxy, and they are hunted by omniscient, immortal sociopaths to whom this ship is like a fly to be poked and dismembered, and the crew just.. blood to be spilled for momentary amusement. I know this because I'm one of those omniscient, immortal sociopaths. My sensors pick up every offhand comment, every mumbled curse and every whispered prayer. They're stuck playing an elaborate cat-and-mouse game, with stakes worth more than the organs and combined incomes of everyone they know.<div> <br></div><div>The sound of directional thrusters reverb through the Silent Whisper as the ship turns towards it's destination. I hear a collective sigh of relief when AURA utters the words: "Warp Drive Active". The Whisper is whisked away from the Caldari stargate and towards the station. The ship is as silent as my pod for a moment, and then the pod becomes the proverbial eye of the storm as the voices of terror fill the ship.</div> <div><br></div><div>"Enemy Astarte straight ahead! Brace for impact!"</div><div>Evasive maneuvers. Activate hardeners and boosters.</div><div>"It's deploying drones.. locking us.. firing."</div><div> A full volley of blaster bolts strikes the side of the Whisper. Start the microwarpdrive.</div><div>"Shields at 50%, 13%"</div><div>Realign towards the station. Contact the station and ask for docking clearance.</div> <div>"Shields gone. Armor at 77%, 33%, 11%.."</div><div>"Clearance granted. Welcome to Umokka."</div><div>"Attention: Minmatar Prowler-class transport Silent Whisper is now under the protection of the Caldari Navy. Cease your attack or we will take appropriate measures in accordance of the Yulai Convention."</div> <div><br></div><div>This time, my theatrical exit from the pod is met with a more polarized response than usual. Some are cheering, but I can feel the simmering hate in the air. I can almost hear them ask: "What right do they have to toy with our lives?"</div> <div><br></div><div>I start walking towards the exit, and address the few crewmembers around me, talking to nobody in particular. I try to keep my voice calm and emotionless.</div><div>"I won't be departing today. Replace any and all parts not in perfect working condition. Load the cargo from the hangar and notify me when everything is ready."</div> <div>"What about the crew?"</div><div>I stop, and the simple gesture gets the point across.</div><div>"Understood, sir. The Silent Whisper will be ready."</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-68390413172483505082009-01-28T01:15:00.001-08:002009-01-28T01:15:23.892-08:00RealignmentThe cruise missile market has been interesting in the last few days. Aside from myself, there are half a dozen manufacturers, all locked in a price war. While I did manage to sell the initial batches at 40% profit, one of my competitors has grown impatient and lowered his prices by 20%, putting them below my production costs. However, the difference isn't large enough to warrant buying his stockpile and either reselling it at a higher price or reprocessing it back into minerals. In any case, there are signs of the market overheating, so I have reassigned my factories to produce other goods for now. It's important to spot the trend early and not be dragged down by the vicious circle of undercutting. <div><br></div><div>In other news, my associates have reported that their re-alignment in the New Eden political landscape has been completed, and that the new production centers are ready. They did make some new enemies in the process, but the war declarations are of little consequence to me. I can continue to run my business, no matter whether I do it from a station or a blockade runner cloaked in a remote part of an uninhabited solar system. I'm sending mr. Parker to help my associates soon. While he cannot match the quantity of minerals that I require, maybe he can help my associates with the quality of minerals. He is a certified refiner, has been training on mastering ORE's top-of-the-line exhumers, and can handle most mining crystals. Of course, I'd have to persuade ms. Ashley to scout the route beforehand, a task that I dread in advance. I'd hate to resort to one of the more stronger clauses in our agreement.</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-91598369072018025822009-01-23T01:01:00.001-08:002009-01-24T05:21:53.512-08:00A Life of TribulationDesmond Fehr is a patient man. He was never the first to bow, but always the last to raise his eyes. He endured one master after another, never to complain. This perserverance and adherence to the doctrines allowed him to taste some measure of success in the countryside. He had a house and a family. Life was good.<br> <div><br></div> <div>But then the Valklear came. Like demons, they descended upon the village. The funerals lasted for days, and the next master made sure that nobody would even think of helping the Valklears the next time. For a moment, Desmond regretted not accepting their offer. He chose to stay behind.</div> <div><br></div> <div>Days turned into weeks, and months turned into years. The Valklears never returned. Desmond became the proverbial rock among the community. Distant wars started and ended, and even the Elders came and went. Their impact was only felt later. Taxes grew larger and larger, and the taskmasters grew more and more demanding.</div> <div><br></div> <div>Eventually, the master had no choice but to sell his servants. The golden ships descended from the heavens. Eventually, Desmond and the others were brought into a market. The buyers were a suspicious lot, and everyone was carefully inspected, and Desmond could see the uneasiness on the broker's face. Desmond's turn came and went. After the auction, they were loaded into a shipping container. The doors closed and they were engulfed in darkness. There was a rumble, and the container started to move. People started talking to pass the time. Most of it was meaningless, but one particular conversation sparked Desmond's interest.</div> <div><br></div><div>"The holding pattern was a mess, so the Master sent us on the outer hull to replace some of the armor plates. He said that we would be cheaper than having the station crews have a look at the ship. So there I was, working on the outer hull, finishing the engravings on one of the new armor plates that we replaced. Then I saw it. It was an Armageddon-class battleship in an atrocious condition. Some of the outer plating was missing, and there was rust all over. I mean, keeping a divine ship in such a condition is a discrace!"</div> <div>He was interrupted by one of the other Brutors.</div><div>"It wasn't rust."</div><div>"Huh?"</div><div>"It wasn't rust, and it wasn't a divine ship."</div><div>"You mean.."</div> <div>"It was blood. That was a Bhaalgorn."</div><div>"..."</div><div>"We were bought in bulk. Just think for a moment. I'm too old for honest work, and I was certainly not bought for my rugged looks."</div> <div>"No.. no no no.."</div><div>"Yes. We're going to a blood farm."</div><div>"Keep your voice down! We don't want a panic!"</div><div>"Does it really matter? Maybe i'm lucky and get trampled to death."</div> <div>"Shut up.. Shut up. Shut up!"</div><div><br></div><div>The old man got his wish. The blows echoed in the suddenly-silent container. After a few minutes, the doors opened. The guards dragged them both away, cleaned the stains and left the rest in darkness.</div> <div><br></div><div>Desmond prayed.</div>Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-48352593991013856722009-01-19T03:58:00.001-08:002009-01-19T03:58:22.331-08:00Subcontractors, Liquidity and Missed Opportunities<div>Despite measureable improvements in mr. Parker's performance, the yields are still below what I need for sustained production. The first batch of my new products sold almost instantly and provided a hefty return on investment, but I'd need at least four or five more subcontractors to achieve the optimal production rate. I don't have the capital to maintain buy orders for a batch of materials while one batch is being sold and an another in production., so I have to waste my time with the Silent Whisper, hunting for bargains in the less reputable portions of space. It isn't particularly dangerous, though, just time-consuming. Furthermore, the lack of liquidity forbids me from taking advantage of other business opportunities. I did manage to snatch a shipment of underpriced missiles to be reprocessed back to minerals, but that's just a drop in the ocean.</div> <div> </div> <div>There's also the products that I managed to get to safety before the Wicked Creek debacle. Those assets were worth billions, but that market is inaccessible now. My associates have been doing well in the north, but distractions here have kept me too busy to pay anything but superficial attention. Someday I'll have to take the Silent Whisper for a spin and get acquainted with the new neighbors. Surely there must be someone out there who values discreet and timely deliveries..</div> <div> </div> <div>Miss Ashley's also been complaining that the frequent pirate intrusions into the core systems are becoming more and more serious. Sometimes it's even been necessary to call for backup. The Victim's Guilt is a sturdy vessel, built like a brick, but she has a point, though. A Raven-class battleship would be ideal, but the increased destructive power would also require me to upgrade to a Hurricane-class battlecruiser to keep the space lanes clear of valuable wreckages.</div> <div> </div> <div>So much potential, and so few opportunities..</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-44249708246944559932009-01-08T05:34:00.001-08:002009-01-08T05:34:21.379-08:00On Ransom<div>During my travels, I have encountered several individuals and groups who take more active measures in acquiring wealth. Sometimes these people engage in what it's commonly known as ransoming: Capturing something valuable and demanding compensation for returning it. The valuable can be an item, an individual, a group of people or even a ship. Still, the decision-making process for all of these cases is the same.</div> <div> </div> <div>So how would a reasonable businessman approach such a situation?</div> <div> </div> <div>The first step is to identify all possible outcomes and the losses and gains associated with them.</div> <ol> <li>The valuables are retrieved without paying the ransom. The victim loses nothing, and the ransomer gains nothing.</li> <li>Ransom is paid, and the valuables are returned. The victim loses the ransom amount, and the ransomer gains it.</li> <li>The ransom is not paid, and the valuables are not returned. The victim loses the valuables, and the ransomer gains them.</li> <li>The ransom is paid, but the valuables are not returned. The victim loses everything, and the ransomer gains everything.</li></ol> <div>#1 is naturally the best option, but usually requires some form of leverage, like overwhelming force or credible promises of future revenue for the ransomer. But in contemporary Empire markets where profit margins are already slim, spreading the wealth around is not always an option. So in most cases, we will be dealing with #2, #3 and #4. It's noteworthy to realize that the decision-making process is two-tiered: The victim either chooses #3 or lets the ransomer choose between #2 and #4. This limited form of choice sometimes affects the victim psychologically and provides a powerful incentive to choose #3, if only to spite the ransomer. In many cases, this is counterproductive and such decision can carry a hefty cost.</div> <div><br></div><div>A smarter businessman will take the time between capture and the deadline to perform research on his adversary, because understanding your opponent's motivations will provide clues on whether the opponent is more likely to choose #2 or #4. Many ransomers are independent. Such entities' primary forms of income are ransoming, non-aggression pacts and sometimes protection agreements. When it comes to ransoming ships, they will most likely have scouts in space and have researched you to evaluate your willingness and means to pay a ransom. If you are dealing with such individuals or groups, they are likely to choose #2. Their intention is not to stop a revenue stream, only to divert it to their own accounts. Their ultimate goal would be the non-aggression pact, where they are paid for not engaging certain targets, providing a steady stream of revenue for minimal operating costs. As such, any measures that provide a strong incentive for targets to refrain from risky behavior is counterproductive at best. Choosing #4 would make their next target more likely to choose #3 as their reputation spreads, cutting off their source of income altogether. </div> <div><br></div><div>However, there are also entities who engage in ransoming to drive their victims out of business. The more damage caused to the target, the better. A mercenary corporation hired by a competitor is a good example. Their contract probably has a one-time payment for a certain time period of activity, and any and all gains from such activity can be kept by the mercenary corporation. Thus they have a strong incentive to choose #4 as often as possible. A smart businessman should always choose #3 if dealing with said entities to minimize losses. Mercenary contracts are not cheap, and minimizing your losses is an important part of an overall strategy if a war of attrition is unavoidable.</div> <div><br></div><div>To recap: Choose #3 when dealing with competitors or their subcontractors. Let independents choose #2.</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-89595735236927218922009-01-05T13:03:00.000-08:002009-01-05T13:06:55.465-08:00Keeping Up Appearances"Docking request accepted. Please stand by for remote control." <div>As the tractor beams pull the Overseer through the entry corridor, I recall the camera drones and begin shutting down the primary systems. After a few minutes, I feel the ship come to a halt and shut down the final sensors. For a moment, I am blessed by absolute silence as the pod re-initializes my senses. First I feel the pod fluids around me, then I hear my own heartbeat. I can see the pod's inner lights activate through my eyelids. I hear a series of rumbles as the armor plates protecting the pod cradle move aside. While the pod is being lifted to the dock, the plugs detach themselves and float away from my head and spine. A slight thud signals that the pod has reached it's destination, and I hit the switch.</div> <div><br></div><div>I fall to the cold metal floor, and the docking crew sprays me clean of the pod fluids. To some of my crew, this is the first time they've seen me. Up until now, I've been an omniscient, disembodied voice of god and before that, a name in the recruitment ad. Many other capsuleers prefer to keep it that way. I slowly open my eyes and let them adjust to the light. I try to stand up, the floor still slippery from the fluids. I try again. A towel is handed to me. I dry myself and start putting on my clothes. I spot a few crew members whispering something to each other. I can't hear them through the rumble of machines, but I don't have to. This little bit of theatrics has served it's purpose. I put on my vest and start walking towards the door.</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-11893846752482302752008-12-18T00:13:00.001-08:002008-12-18T00:13:54.994-08:00Memetic VirusMy mailbox has a steady stream of messages about "7 Facts About Me", which seems to be a some kind of a espionage-oriented memetic virus. My wetware has all of the appropriate safeguards, but not everyone is as prepared. Many of my fellow capsuleers seem to be infected, revealing information that could be worth a small fortune for blackmailers, kidnappers and other unsavory types. That is, if the information revealed was not obviously fabricated. Whoever let it loose will spend weeks filtering the information after the virus has run through it's course through all of New Eden. <div><br></div><div>Because the wars are still ongoing, I had time to do some research. Apparently, the infection started from someone called "<a href="http://www.crazykinux.com/2008/12/learn-little-more-about-david.html">CrazyKinux</a> ", which is an appropriate nickname in this case. The developer of the virus remains unknown, though.</div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-63798181247315060992008-12-16T05:04:00.001-08:002008-12-16T05:04:27.786-08:00Reactionary MeasuresThis can be troublesome. Intelligence reports that a hostile fleet is slowly but surely making their way towards my associates, and the strategists predict that the local market hub might change ownership in the future. While the insecurity can be used as an excuse to raise prices and thus gain significant short-term profit, the loss of docking rights would put a stop to any sustained business venture. <div><br></div><div>One clone jump later I'm at the market hub in question: sorting out my assets, canceling market orders and so on. The station is buzzing like a proverbial hornet's nest.</div> <div><br></div><div>"Miss Ashley, report to the bridge of the Eyeless within the hour."</div><div>"*yawn* Can it wait? It's night out here, and the rocks are not going anywhere."</div><div> "I'm afraid it cannot. We're not going to look for rocks.The window of opportunity is closing."</div><div>"What opportunity?"</div><div>"The opportunity to leave this part of space for the foreseeable future. Read these reports and formulate a flight plan. You'll be my eyes and ears."</div> <div>"Got it. *yawn*"</div><div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>"Undocking now.."</div><div>"How's the station surroundings?"</div><div>"Hot! Being locked, taking fire. Redocked."</div> <div>"Intel's reporting a hostile fleet spotted a few jumps away."</div><div>"Our flight plan takes us in the opposite direction. If these partisans join the main fleet, that will be our cue."</div> <div>"Agreed, that seems like the least risky option now."</div><div>"Their area of operations seems to be reasonably concentrated. Once we get past the boundary gates the rest of the voyage should be fairly safe. According to the diplomats, the other end of the pipeline should be safe due to the non-aggression pact they signed earlier. The enemy is already involved with multiple campaigns, and thus I doubt that they'll spread the conflict further than necessary, at least overtly. Likely hostiles would thus be similar to the ones outside, picking off strays. However, there is the risk that the enemy is prepared to implement their overall strategy consistently and have posted interdictors along probable escape vectors. The Swimming Rat is not an ideal ship by any means for sneaking past those. Why didn't you use the Silent Whisper?"</div> <div>"It's being refitted back in Republic space in accordance to the new specifications from Core Complexion. In addition, the cargo space would have been inadequate for this particular task."</div><div>"We'll have to work with what we have, then. I'll notify you when we can move."</div> <div><br></div><div>I use the idle time to calculate the lost revenue from this venture, and familiarize myself with the situation in the north. The movements of some of the locals there have no obvious justification, and the victories my associates have gained are encouraging, but fostering false confidence might be the overall tactic at this point. In any case, the area's risk/reward ratio is currently highly volatile and thus an unreliable investment opportunity. Especially with all of this unsold stock. However.. the new model from Outer Ring Excavations looks promising.."</div> <div><br></div><div>"Boss, they're gone. Time to move."</div><div>"Got it. Undocking."</div><div>"The gate is clear on both sides. Safe to jump."</div><div>"Roger."</div><div><br> </div> <div>Like Miss Ashley predicted, the voyage is mostly uneventful. She's traveling a few jumps ahead of me and reports no hostiles gate after gate, until...</div><div><br></div><div>"Neutral spotted. A Broadsword-class heavy interdictor, on the same vector as we are. He is not engaging, though. You better pick up the pace."</div> <div>"There's only two jumps to go."</div><div>"Precisely. The next system is a choke point. If he's expecting company, we would need to improvise."</div><div>"Couldn't we just wait?"</div> <div>"That could take days, and they would eventually find you."</div><div>"Point taken."</div><div>"I'm orbiting the gate. It's secure for now, but the Broadsword can't be far."</div> <div>"I'm jumping now. Aren't you coming?"</div><div>"The Republic Fleet will provide protection for you, I'll stay for a while,"</div><div><br></div><div>On the next day, I read the after-action report. About 30 minutes after I entered Republic space, the gate was successfully blockaded by the neutral pilot's associates, with the overall force strength fluctuating between dozen ships to around 70. And while miss Ashley did report the gate's status to my associates, not everyone reads the intel reports as carefully as they should. There's a loss logged on the corporate network. Oh well. I close the report. My cargo is safe, and the Swimming Rat is undergoing a proper refit. I return to the task at hand, and finish the contract. The the heavy machinery rattles my office as my newest purchase arrives to my hangar. I open the blast shields and watch as the behemoth is unpacked and the assembly process begins. There is something mesmerizing in the movements of well-maintained machines..</div> <div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>NeoCom's chime tells me that there's dozens of new messages and starts summarizing them. Three war declarations, and associated chatter from my associates, who are busy extracting any and all intelligence about our new foes. The diplomats are reporting that one of the warring parties is our former ally, and there's rumors of them engaged in negotiations with our enemies. Apparently this war declaration is both an attempt to hinder our relocation efforts, as well as a gesture of goodwill designed to be used as a bargaining chip during the negotiations. Politics was never my strong suit, and not giving it due attention has proven to be a costly oversight. The factories are still running, but this has cut off the revenue from my main line of business, and my diversification efforts are not enough to plug a hole this big right now. And due to the war declaration, the risk/reward ratio of my newest purchase has also been compromised. I exit my office and head towards the hangar. The pod cradle should be assembled already, and the pod will be completely silent until they finish plugging in the sensors. It'll be a perfect place to think. The proverbial eye of the storm in the middle of a ship being assembled.</div> <div><br></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-85433288379326705042008-11-10T00:22:00.001-08:002008-11-10T00:22:58.247-08:00Externalities"So you've found him?"<br>"Yes. Get my fee ready."<br>"It's ready. What's your ETA?"<br>"Half an hour."<br>"I'll be waiting."<div><br>The hologram flickers off and I lean back on my chair. That was faster than expected. His effectiveness is certainly at par with his reputation. Still.. Better safe than sorry. I reopen NeoCom.</div> <div><br>"Hey! How's business?"<br>"Decent. Say.. Would you happen to have any associates in Sasta who would be interesed in a bit of income?<br>"Certainly. Expecting trouble?"<br>"I'm expecting a delivery. The contract is straightforward enough.. but I like to keep my options open."<br> "A babysitting job?"<br>"Nothing of that sort. They don't even need to accompany me. If all goes well, your associates will get paid for sitting in one of the local establishments. But I expect them to be able to reach my office within two minutes."<br> "Done and done."<br>"Thank you."</div><div><br>With the protection sorted out, there's still time to kill before the meeting. The blueprints have returned from replication, but the distance to the factory is small enough to be done personally. The existing manufacturing jobs are on schedule.. and the previous batch is selling quite well. It seems that I'll recoup my initial investment sooner than expected. There's still the issue of sorting out the next shipment for my associates..<br> ...<br>"One Jonathan Parker, safe and sound."<br>"Hi boss!", he quips. I would have expected him to be grumpy or at least hung over.<br>"Mr. Parker, you're uncharacteristically cheery for the occasion. Could you wait at the antechamber, please?"<div> "Sure! What's my next assignment?"</div><div>"We'll discuss that later."</div><div><br></div><div>I could recognize those symptoms anytime. I release the deadman's switch I set up in NeoCom..</div> <div><br></div><div>"I'm surprised by your abilities. Not only did you bring him back, but he seems motivated as well."</div><div>"All in the service, now, about my fee.."</div><div>"It's ready. But first the merchandise needs to be checked. Is there anything I should know about?</div> <div>"I did replenish his Vitoc dose and.."</div><div>"He was not under the influence of Vitoc before."</div><div>"Oh. Consider it a bonus, then."</div><div>"Unfortunately, your contract stipulated that he be returned safely and unharmed. "</div> <div>"Talk to your Holder. I'm sure he'll understand."</div><div>"Who?"</div><div>"Your Holder. I'm sure he's put you under the influence of Vitoc as well."</div><div>"I did not make that contract on behalf of anyone."</div> <div><br></div><div>The door opens and my associates step in.</div><div><br></div><div>"Gentlemen, would you be so kind and demonstrate why forcibly infecting someone with Vitoc is a bad idea.."</div><div>"Wait! I can supply you with Vitoc! I was doing you a favor!", he yells while trying to hold on to the door frame.</div> <div>"That won't be necessary. Good day."</div><div><br></div><div>Of course, he was right. I open NeoCom.</div><div><br></div><div>"Miss Ashley, do you still have the items recovered from that mission last week?"</div> <div> "The vials? Yes, I have those."</div><div>"I have found a buyer."</div><div><br></div><div>Naturally, that small supply confiscated from an Amarrian transport won't sustain him forever. But now I won't have to bear the externalities from his lifestyle.</div> </div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-16215316139962874542008-11-02T12:47:00.001-08:002008-11-02T12:47:25.845-08:00Maintaining the ChainThe initial test run has been a success, and I'm now getting a steady stream of income. It's not much, but the demand is decent. The next batch of blueprints is ready, but my Gallentean associate's been focusing his efforts on discovering all of the hidden Ammatar nightclubs instead of asteroid belts, so I'm forced to rely on other suppliers for now. Getting the Nocxium, Pyerite and Mexallon for the next production batch was not a problem, but Tritanium.. the market's as bad as I expected. The only reasonable sources with sufficient volume are around the Barvigrard constellation. I know the place well, which is exactly why I don't want to go there. The prices are cheap for a reason. The dead-end constellations that are easily defensible due to limited routes, which makes it a potential deathtrap. I made my first billion running those routes, and some of the locals might still remember me. Still.. if I want to maintain the ROI I need to go there. I set the course and fire up Silent Whisper's engines. I open NeoCom.<div> <br></div><div>"Miss Ashley."</div><div>"Yes sir?"</div><div>"It's time to fulfill your contractual obligations. Meet me in these coordinates."</div><div>"You're going to stir the hornet's nest?"</div> <div>"Your task will be to notify me if these.. hornets come out of hibernation."</div><div>"Rules of Engagement?"</div><div>"No engagement. Observation only. You owe me enough already."</div> <div>"Aaw.."</div><div>"Observation only. I'll brief you when you get here. Bring something discreet."</div><div><br></div><div>While AURA's flying the Whisper I prepare the buy order, but I don't complete it yet. Some of the locals tend to use lucrative sell orders as bait, and there's no need to give them a heads-up too soon. Eventually, I arrive at the staging area.</div> <div><br></div><div>"Present as ordered."</div><div>"You'll enter before me, and assess the situation. If everything looks clear, I'll follow and retrieve the cargo. You are to provide me with advance warning if necessary. This will take several trips, so I need to know when I start to attract attention."</div> <div>"Got it."</div><div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>"Status?"</div><div>"A Rupture pilot. He his vector puts him in activation range in ten seconds. The Dominix and the Falcon on scanner are inert.. The Rupture pilot is activating the gate."</div> <div>"Jumping."</div><div><br></div><div>The first few batches go through without incident.</div><div><br></div><div>"A fleet of three Iteron Vs at the gate."</div><div><br></div><div>"A Probe and.. a Tempest."</div> <div><br></div><div><div>Apparently the locals seem disinterested, because not even more vulnerable targets are engaged.</div><div><br></div></div><div>"Solo Mammoth."</div><div><br></div><div>"A Stabber."</div> <div><br></div><div>"A Wreathe.. just sitting at the gate."</div><div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>"That's the last batch. You're relieved, but I expect to see those bounties you've been collecting on my account within the hour."</div> <div>"You're awfully testy today."</div><div>"Good day, miss Ashley."</div><div><br></div><div><div>I deliver the first batch to the factory and board the Middleman to haul the rest from the staging area. The long trip give me plenty of time to ponder. Of course, Miss Ashley was right. This operation was nowhere the highest risk I've taken, and even if it had gone bad I've absorbed larger losses before. I took the proper precautions. So why am I so agitated?</div> <div><div><br></div><div>It was a risk that should have never been taken. I open NeoCom and call my contact at the Justice Department.</div><div>"I need someone found."</div></div></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-85356398558559258402008-10-27T03:02:00.001-07:002008-10-27T03:02:38.187-07:00Building the Supply ChainThe ammo market continues to prosper, so it is time to ramp it up. One can either increase volume, expand the market, cut costs or increase prices. I'm planning on doing all of the above. <div><br></div><div>First, the volume and the cutting of costs. While browsing the markets can satisfy short-term needs, it's very easy to exhaust the reasonably-priced sell orders, so I need my own source. And preferably one that'll allow me to prevent costs from increasing. So I started browsing contracts for suitable blueprints. I know that the Empire laboratories have month-long queues, so I need a well-researched one. After some searching, I find a suitable Havoc Heavy Missile blueprint at material efficiency of 150 for sale at 5.5 million, with one bid already made. I finish checking the rest of the contracts and head out with the Silent Whisper, my blockade runner. I wasn't expecting trouble, but the contract is in the Forge region, deep within Caldari space. A fast ship such as the Whisper is ideal for this task.</div> <div><br></div><div>Eventually I arrive on one of the border systems of the Forge and made the bid. A few moments afterwards, NeoCom alerts me that one of my Gallente associates was back in Empire space and needs a Hulk. Perfect. Jita is only a few jumps away, so I got one with fittings and started heading back to Republic space. Having an in-house miner will help with the costs.</div> <div><br></div><div>About halfway back, NeoCom notified me that I had been outbid. I deliver the Hulk and after making sure that my associate was satisfied and was at work, I head back to the Forge. The bidding war was on, and would probably continue for the remainder of the auction's duration. I make my last bid shortly after NeoCom reminded me of my preset sleep schedule. Trading requires an alert mind, and only a fool lets his weapon lose it's edge.</div> <div><br></div><div>On the next day, NeoCom reports that the auction had expired, and as expected, I was outbid. The final price was around 13.5 million. I'm sure that the seller will appreciate that. I dismiss the notice and head out to the docking bay. That bidding war successfully held my competitors' attention, and thus they failed to notice a similar auction which offered various missile blueprints with material efficiency of 50 and a pricetag of merely twenty million. That's more than enough to attain optimal manufacturing efficiency. I pick up the set of blueprints from Jita and head back to Republic space. This set of blueprints will allow me to both do business in Republic space and in the independent territories. Residents of the independent territories have lots of money, but not many opportunities to spend it. Being the good samaritan that I am, I intend to help them with that problem.</div> <div><br></div><div>Back in Republic space, I hand over half of the blueprints to my Gallente associate, who examines them and submits them to be replicated at a nearby Ammatar station. There's a five-day queue, but I need to be able to run several manufacturing jobs in parallel to ramp up the volume to levels that my remote customers expect. Meanwhile, I board the Middleman, my Mastodon-class deep space transport, load it with minerals and take the other half of the blueprints to a nearby Imperial Armaments station for manufacturing. It seems that I'll be able to undercut my competition and still attain a 40% return on investment even in Republic space, but I need to gauge market demand first. The recent surge in Minmatar production has left this station relatively quiet, so I'm able to start manufacturing immediately. I don't leave my pod, though. There's no need to rub their noses in the fact that they're doing business with me. The test runs are scheduled to be finished in three days, which frees up the blueprints for replication right on time. But while the proverbial wheels of industry are grinding, all that is left is to wait..</div> <div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div><div><br></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-23483628042715794022008-10-22T13:09:00.001-07:002008-10-22T13:09:37.201-07:00A Change of Plans<div dir="ltr">According as circumstances are favorable, one should modify one's plans.<div><br></div><div>The ammo business is gaining momentum, and my brokers are reporting that I'm in danger of having one of my market orders expire due to insufficient goods. I seem to have underestimated the market demand, but I won't let my loyal customers suffer due to my oversight. I spend the rest of the evening enjoying the station's amenities, but my mind is busy evaluating different options. One of my associates casually mentions that there's a loophole in safety regulations that allows any ship in a carrier-mounted ship maintenance array to contain ammunition. Naturally, this loophole was intended for deploying combat ships prepared for extended skirmishes, but it has other uses as well. I'm probably not the first to think of this, but I won't be the last, either.</div> <div><br></div><div>After making sure that I've passed the safety limit for consecutive clone jumps, I head to the cloning station and jump back to Republic space. I buy an used Mammoth at a bargain and have it stripped down to the bare minimum, maximizing cargo space. It's now basically a few engines and a cockpit strapped to several cargoholds. Perfect Minmatar design. All it needs to do is to hold together until I reach the drop-off point.</div> <div><br></div><div>The pickups go without incident, but now I'm on an approach vector to the last stargate before the drop-off point in low-security space. Miss Ashley reports that there is one friendly contact on the overview, leaving the system and several neutrals in the system according to the gate logs. I send the activation codes, and me, my ship and my highly combustible cargo are pulled through the gate.</div> <div><br></div><div>"I'm here. Prepare the web."</div><div>"Standing by."</div><div>"Decloaking."</div><div><br></div><div>As soon as I deactivate the cloak, I hear the familiar locking alert and Miss Ashley's Buzzard appears next to me. The stasis web engulfs my ship and the engines rev up in a futile attempt to compensate.</div> <div><br></div><div>"Engine output at 75%. Ready for warp.", I hear AURA's voice chime in. I send the command.</div><div>"Warp Drive Active."</div><div><br></div><div>The arrival to the station is uneventful. The dock crew unloads an unmarked crate from the Mammoth while I detach my pod and make the proper arrangements. I approve the contracts. The Mammoth is towed away to an another hangar to wait for pickup. The crate is wheeled away. A few minutes later, the Silent Whisper arrives to my hangar. While's it's sleek by Minmatar standards and can rival some of the cheaper interceptors in speed and maneuverability, it's also a relatively rate sight and thus would have attracted undue attention. After all, when someone uses a blockade runner, they usually have a good reason to expect trouble. I maneuver my pod towards the ship and open the pod bay door. The pod slides down and locks into place, and my viewpoint changes to the ship's camera drones. I start the pre-flight checks.</div> <div><br></div><div>"How's the vicinity of the station?"</div><div>"No contacts on scanner, all clear."</div><div>I notify the traffic control and get clearance for departure. The vicinity of the station is indeed clear, so I set my destination and warp towards the gate.</div> <div>"Is that all? I thought that.."</div><div>"Yes, that is all."</div><div>"What about the ship?"<br></div><div>"That was the ship. The Gambler's Compulsion will be transported at a later date. I humbly suggest that you use the time productively."</div> <div>"I still don't like the idea."</div><div>"Duly noted. Just go through the textbooks and you'll know how to go through the diagnostics yourself. Contact me when you're done."<br></div><div> "..."</div><div>"Activating the gate. I suggest you do the same, the natives are getting restless."</div><div>"Fine."</div><div><br></div><div><br></div> </div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-53491778064332972802008-10-22T12:50:00.001-07:002008-10-22T12:50:43.525-07:00Blame<div dir="ltr">"Let's go through this again." <div>"Why? I already told you what happened!"</div><div>"Why indeed. I'm not particularly interested in the How."</div><div>"What good does it do? It won't bring the crew, or even the Trader's Folly back."</div> <div>"It won't, but this will help prevent such avoidable expenses from occurring in the future. I just want to make sure that the name was not a self-fulfilling prophecy."</div><div>"You named it assuming it would be destroyed?"</div> <div>"I like to keep reminders of my shortcomings around me."</div><div>"Your shortcomings?! Let me tell you about your shortcomings! First of all..."</div><div><br></div><div>This particular character trait is one of the reasons why her employment opportunities in the Caldari State are rather limited. But I don't mind, because she has a point. I did bring her here without informing her about the political situation. The Tau Ceti doesn't particularly mind their allies picking off some of their customers. War is good for business, but it can have some externalities.</div> <div><br></div><div>"...So there I was, minding my own business when I detected an unknown signature right before it appeared on the belt because SOMEONE..."</div><div><br></div><div>And a Drake is not exactly one of the most agile ships out there. If an enemy appears, there is indeed little time to detect the enemy and escape.</div> <div><br></div><div>"..I ordered an alpha strike, but the enemy outrun the blasts and there was nothing on-board to slow the bastard down because SOMEONE has no clue.."</div><div><br></div><div>Not to mention that missile launchers that I ordered were designed for killing cruisers and battleships, not frigates. A stasis web would not have hurt, either.</div> <div><br></div><div>"..eventually the structural integrity gave way to the infernal drones' barrage, causing hull breaches and spacing my crew! Their frozen blood is on your hands! You sent them to battle ill-prepared!"</div> <div>"Indeed, I did. I'll arrange for a new ship to be delivered, properly fitted and provide a threat assessment of the neighboring systems. Is that all?"<br></div><div>"All? Hundreds dead and that's ALL you can say?"</div> <div>"It's just business."</div><div>"GET.. OUT!"</div><div>"Fine, fine. Oh, one more thing? Why did you return to the belt?"</div><div>"What? How did you.. Are you blaming.."</div> <div>"I wouldn't dream of it."</div><div>"..."</div><div>"Don't worry about your employment. As I said, I like to keep reminders of my shortcomings around me."</div><div>"..."</div> <div>"Good day, Miss Ashley."</div><div>"..."</div><div><br></div><div>The door closes behind me, and I start making notes. One battlecruiser, minus insurance plus fittings and ammo.. Half a day's setback at most. While walking back to the club I make the necessary adjustments to the prices of my goods. A trader always gets his money.</div> <div><br></div> </div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-13944943085121650992008-10-19T11:43:00.001-07:002008-10-19T11:43:14.692-07:00Mortality<div dir="ltr">"You want me to do WHAT?" <div>"I want you to kill yourself. Look, I already said that all of the arrangements have been made. All that remains is you."</div><div>"Isn't there any other way?"</div><div>"Of course there is. You could try to fly through Curse or the Great Wildlands. Should you choose to do that, I am obligated to take the Trader's Folly back, as per our agreement."</div> <div>"You want me to fly through a warzone in a frigate? Are you mad?"</div><div>"I don't. And I'm not. That's why I proposed to use more.. cost-effective means of transportation."</div><div> "But I like my body. My mother gave it to me."</div><div>"I'll buy you a new one."</div><div>"It's not the same."</div><div>"She won't know the difference."</div><div>"..."</div> <div>"I'd love to chat, but I have a schedule to keep. I need to be back tomorrow for the next shipment."</div><div>"..."</div><div>"I'll meet you there."</div><div><br></div><div>...<br> </div><div><br></div><div>"Jumping again, sir?"</div><div>"Indeed. Tau Ceti Central, as usual."</div><div>"Very well. Your vat is ready. This way, please."</div><div><br> </div><div>The metal floor feels cold beneath my feet and the smell of disinfectants is prevalent. I step into the vat and the technician starts plugging in the life support equipment. The clamps approach and gently grip my skull. I relax, and the machinery gently tilts my head to the right angle. The technician attaches the mask and closes the vat door. He returns to his console and the pod starts filling up. I hear a servo whining and a series of clicks behind my head. The fluid reaches my head and I close my eyes before I inhale the fluid. Some leave their eyes open, but I had once overhead the technician complain about feeling paranoid when in room full of pod people with their eyes open. There's no cost in being considerate.</div> <div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>My eyes are open, and the Gallente technician is making notes next to my pod. The fluid recedes, and I hear a sequence of clicks behind my head. The clamps let go, and I look to my right. Her clone is still inert.</div> <div><br></div><div>The pod opens, and I force myself to gag to get the rest of the fluid out. The technician starts going through his list in a monotone voice.</div><div>"Contract number 53673093, client ID 092813-32, subject Shirrath, Male Vherokior, born.."</div> <div>"I know who I am, thank you."</div><div>"Are you aware of your current whereabouts?"</div><div>"Wicked Creek, constellation R-M719, system Q-GQHN, Tau Ceti Central."</div><div> "Very well. It seems that everything is in order. Sign here, please."</div><div><br></div><div>...</div><div><br></div><div>While I'm dressing, I hear a scream, followed by a few thuds. I carefully finish buttoning my vest and walk towards the vat room. She's struggling against the restraints and banging against the pod door.</div> <div><br></div><div>"It's okay, let her out."</div><div>She slumps into the cold floor, slimy and puking. The technicians try to give her a towel, but she lashes out, forcing them to back off.</div><div>"There's no need to be rude. You're here as a guest, remember."</div> <div>"Wh..wh..where's here?" She's shivering.</div><div>"Tau Ceti Central."</div><div>"WHAT?"</div><div>"Tau Cet.."</div><div>"I heard where. I want to know why you brought me in the middle of roe-suckers' territory!"</div> <div>"They're not affiliated with the Federation, and there is no need for that kind of language. I told you that we'd be working with..."</div><div>"I'll use any kind of language I please, you glorified sherpa!"</div> <div>"Now you're getting personal. I have to remind you that you're only immortal as long as the fine people here keep your clone ready and you keep your well-formed behind in a pod."</div><div>".."</div> <div>"I think we're done here. Get miss Ashley some clothes, and I could use a clean vest."</div><div>"This isn't over, you smug bastard."</div><div>"We'll talk afterwards."</div> <div><br></div></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-56273260851057506232008-10-17T04:33:00.001-07:002008-10-17T04:33:04.892-07:00Unexpected Income<div dir="ltr">The beeping of my NeoCom wakes me and starts listing market transactions before I even get my eyes open. A bunch of drones sold, some hardeners, an implant, ammo, a rig.. I hit the showers go wake myself up for good.<div> <br></div><div>While finishing the rest of my morning routines, I realize that my account balance has a pair of extra digits. While I was sleeping, someone apparently bought all of the grossly overpriced Republic Fleet ammo that I had for sale in one of the seedier parts of the Republic. I have a hunch that whoever bought them must appreciate the irony of killing someone with their own ammo. I don't plan to be that someone, so I'll have to make some modifications to my travel plan. There's some market orders that are about to expire, and there's some deliveries to be made, and assets that are not in motion are assets that are not generating income.</div> <div><br></div><div>While income is always good, these unexpected large sales tend to have a disruptive effect on my revenue. Normally, I have an investment plan ready for every ISK I earn, but finding a suitable use for an extra hundred million ISK takes some time. And that means time that my assets are not "at work". But what to buy? A Raven to boost the junk acquisition business? Some minerals? Half a dozen rigs? A set of implants? A shipment of drones? Choices, choices..<br> <div><br></div><div><br></div></div></div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-81692799310451814932008-10-16T10:35:00.001-07:002008-10-16T10:35:24.607-07:00Planning Ahead<div dir="ltr">With the next shipment is waiting to be picked up by one of my associates and my new employee familiarizing herself with the nooks and crannies of her brand-new Drake, it's time to evaluate the current status of my ventures. <div><br></div><div>The salvage business has so far proven to be a bit less successful than I had estimated. After triaging all of the parts, the junk container seemed too full. Even though I have good relations with the local Brutor brokers and can run proverbial circles around Republic accountants, some items are just too cheap to sell. One of the brokers "helpfully" suggested that I reprocess the junk into minerals. However, the neglected to mention that the Tribe would receive all scrap metal that my butter fingers couldn't reprocess. So, the junk container keeps filling for now. Fortunately, some of the rarer items did sell for a rather nice price. Some of my customers are gear heads who want to squeeze the last bit of performance from their ships, others are simply people who equate cost with quality. Naturally, the latter are my favorite customers.</div> <div><br></div><div>While following a random discussion about missile shortages on NeoCom, I noticed that the prices they're citing for certain types of missiles seem awfully high, sometimes even three or four times higher than usual. So I bought some missiles and contracted them for transport. If the demand continues and this is not just a short-term shortage, I may need to find a subcontractor or get into manufacturing myself. However, the manufacturing costs are not really the issue. In order to justify the jump fuel costs and hazard pay, the profit from a shipment needs to go past a certain threshold. There's no point in hauling stuff halfway across the galaxy for pocket change, when daytrading can accomplish the same with less risk and much less hassle.</div> <div><br></div><div>I take another look at the titanic container labeled "Junk" and start browsing through my list of associates. Surely there's someone around who would be interested in a small joint business venture..</div> <div><br></div><div><br></div> </div> Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6514135639618754972.post-47680564521080482492008-10-07T05:00:00.000-07:002008-10-20T02:44:51.481-07:00Pocket ChangeThe first rule of trading is to make your money work for you. Always have something to buy, something to sell and something in transit. At least, that's what they told me at Pator Tech. What they didn't tell is that sometimes business is slow, leaving all your market capital stuck in assets and you stuck inside a station. Peace is not good for business. When there's no ships getting destroyed and pods popped, there is no need to buy fittings and implants.<br /><br />Educating myself on the finer points of Jump Drive calibration can keep me entertrained only for so long, so I've been amusing myself by browsing job applications. Poverty is relative, and that big plug at the back of my head is worth more than many men will ever make in their lifetime. It's amazing what so many people are willing to do for pocket change.<br /><br />Of course, sometimes they have very good reasons to be desperate. For example, there was this State War Academy graduate who kept posting job applications on Heimatar NeoCom channels. Of course, my private inquiries did reveal the reason why she wasn't employed by the State or the Empire, but there was no need to mention it during the interview. All she needed to know that I had a job for a combat pilot.<br /><br />I introduced her to some of the local Brutors and asked her to show what she can do with her Kestrel. Even in the core Republic worlds, there's always some pirates, disgruntled employees or slaver patrols whose wrecks are worth some money. So while she was busy pumping missiles and giggling like a maniac, I was salvaging her leftovers with my Thrasher. We kept doing that for a while, and she seems happy. I pay her expenses and provide her with things to shoot, and she provides wrecks to salvage. The extra income has allowed me to start purchasing the next shipment, which also includes a fully fitted Drake. She'll need it where we're going.Shirrathhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16378028476834296643noreply@blogger.com0