Persephone Astrid's YarrJournal

Years ago I was a member of an organization which prized those people who we called “fun mavens.” These were the people who could be counted on to take any situation and make it fun. With several fun mavens at a gathering, there was a good chance that fun would suddenly break out and everyone would have a good time. We cultivated fun mavens, encouraged them, and tried to retain them. A little of this rubbed off on me, and now I try to help others to have a good time.

Out of nowhere, I got the inspiration to host some fun for The Bastards (and recruits!) in the near future.

What: TEAM FRIGATE MAYHEM MELEE!
Who: All Bastards or recruits
When: (deleted for security reasons)
Where: (deleted for security reasons)
Why: Because I love hosting these.
How: Read this post!

All Bastards and applicants will fit one of the following frigates in any way they see fit: Atron, Condor, Executioner, or Slasher. The participants will be randomly divided into two teams. The teams will fight it out in a melee for control of the grid at a remote battlefield. All members of the winning team who are on grid at the end of the battle in their still-intact ship will receive the prize of a interceptor hull based on the ship they flew in the melee. Members of the winning team who lost their ship will receive a consolation prize of 1 million ISK.

Eligible ship hulls and fitting: Atron, Condor, Slasher, Executioner. NO CLOAKS, NO ECM MODULES. Other than that, anything goes; fit whatever you want. Just remember that it will probably go -pop- in a horrible ball of fire. (Warp scramblers/disruptors are not required, but are funny.)

Teams will start on opposite sides of the referee’s ship, 25 km away from the referee (50 km from the other team). Ships will be at a standstill with no targets locked. Modules may be active. After the order to begin, the players may engage and destroy the ships of the other team at will. No entrant is to go more than 150 km from the referee’s ship. Any ship which exceeds this distance, no matter how briefly, will be immediately disqualified. This includes warping away from the grid.

Time limit: The winning team must hold the grid alone before 5 minutes have elapsed. If this has not been done at the 5 minute mark, then the winning team will be the team with more intact and manned ships on the grid.

Important: to win an interceptor hull you must be (1) A member of the winning team (2) on grid at the end of the melee (3) still in the ship in which you began the melee and (4) not have been disqualified for exceeding 150 km from the referee’s ship. This will be strictly enforced.

Winner’s interceptor choice: If you flew an Atron you may choose from an Ares or Taranis. If you flew a Condor you may choose from a Crow or Raptor. If you flew an Executioner you may choose from a Crusader or Malediction. If you flew a Slasher you may choose from a Claw or Stiletto. Prize ships will be delivered by contract after the next corp freighter run.

Because I am donating all prizes and organizing this myself, I reserve the right to be a meanie and say “no,” when you beg for five more minutes to fit up a ship while the rest of us wait for you. Be prepared! Proper Prior Planning Prevents Piss-Poor Performance, Pirate!

Sometimes the two-ships-in-one-hangar view bug produces amusing results. To me it looks like a very protective mama Harpy is sheltering a little Ares under her wings. The only thing missing is for someone to draw in cute little n.n eyes behind the two ships’ beaks.

I toyed with the idea of writing a short story in which some junior docking bay worker got the bright idea to save space in the hangar by stacking ships like Tetris pieces, but I just couldn’t find a way to make it funny. You’ll just have to use your imagination on this one.

What do you think is happening in this photo?

It’s been confirmed: I’ve placed first in Death Race 2010! To celebrate I’ve taken the winning Ares interceptor The Mach 5 to one of the prettiest planets in Evati for a photo.

(Click to view full 1680×1050 pixel image)

If you wish to have it, this pic is available for download in a number of widescreen sizes, including one for netbooks:

1440×900 version here
1280×800 version here
1024×600 version here

A number of people have requested the ship fit for The Mach 5, so here it is:

I deliberately kept this fit a secret until after the race, but now it can be told. Honestly, it’s not a very complicated or clever fit. My goal was to spend as little time at sub-warp speed as possible by aligning very quickly, and then to burn across warp space as quickly as possible. I could have used T2 hyperspatial velocity rigs, but I didn’t want to spend the extra ISK. It hit 19.44 AU per second with T1 rigs, and that sufficed. In the middle third of the race I passed most of the lead pack while in warp, not at stargates.

I toyed with the idea of fitting four inertia stabilizers and no warp core stabilizer, but the decreased effectiveness of a fourth identical module made it not worthwhile.

The modules in the midslots are for camp survival. The MWD is to burn away from bubbles, AB is fitted in case someone actually lands a warp scrambler on me, and the ECM burst is the last-ditch emergency GTFO device. Fortunately, the AB and ECM burst were not needed on Sunday, but the MWD certainly was.

There is nothing at all fitted in the high slots, because I wanted to keep the ship’s mass to a minimum.

Now that I have shared this fit, I’m discarding it. For the next Death Race, I’m going to do something completely different. After all, as the defending champion I’ll have an enormous target painted on my back! Perhaps I’ll fly a triple-Trimarked Megathron with five 1600mm rolled tungsten plates. . .

“Incoming call from Miss Astrid, Miss Fortune,” said the disembodied voice of Raphael, the AI butler who watched over Persephone Astrid’s apartment. “It’s voice-only.”

Voice only? Artemis Fortune thought, pressing PAUSE on the holovid’s remote control. Persephone, she learned, had an extensive collection of buddy-action-adventure holovids. While the humor mostly went past her more straight-laced sensibilities, action stories still thrilled her.

“Put her on, Raphael.” Artemis uncrossed her legs and sat up, setting the half-eaten bowl of salty algae munchies on the transparent acrylic coffee table.

“Artemis!” Persephone shouted over the line. Her voice had the clipped and electronic buzz of a synthesizer, since she could not speak aloud while suspended in her ship’s hydrostatic capsule. The neural interface skimmed her thoughts and translated them into electronic audio. Even though the voice was artificial, the excitement was genuine.

Synth voice, Artemis thought. She must still be in her capsule. Why would she call me from there?

“Persephone!” Artemis replied, deliberately mimicking Persephone’s excitement.

“Artemis!” Persephone repeated.

“Persephone!” Artemis echoed once more, wondering where this was leading.

“Artemis!” Persephone shouted yet again.

“Persephone!” Artemis said, making an elaborate display of patience. Persephone was clearly doing some kind of silly thing, and she could only wait her out. “What’s got you so excited? How’s the race?”

“I’m in the lead!” Persephone gasped from halfway across known space, as her racing-fitted Ares interceptor made a blur of null-sec space. Her voice had the usual strained urgency of a combat pilot, but this time it was overlaid with exultation. “Two jumps from the finish, and there’s no-one on D-scan behind me. I’m out in front– just empty space and stars! There’s no feeling like it!”

The connection crackled briefly, which told Artemis that Persephone had used an interstellar stargate. It was taken for granted that the comms network could maintain a connection even though one party had just moved several light years in a fraction of a second.

“This is it, final system, and there’s nobody on scan!” Persephone continued. “The way is clear!”

“Unbelievable!” Artemis cheered, feeling a bit odd about talking to Persephone at a moment like this one. “Still, maybe you should call me back once you’ve won?”

“It’s okay, I’ve got this,” Persephone replied. “It’s a snap compared to combat flying. I can talk and do this–landing on the out gate now–at the same time.”

Artemis held her breath. The audio crackled again.

“FIRST!” Persephone cheered. “Oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God oh God–”

“Way to go!” Artemis whooped, hopping to her feet.

“Oh God oh God,” Persephone finished, winding down from her exuberance. “Okay, I’ve gotta dock up now.” Persephone suddenly sounded much more business-like, as she temporarily bottled up her emotions until she was safe. “That was really cool, but I’m still an outlaw, you know. It would be dumb if I got ganked while I was jerking around at the finish line.”

“Oh definitely,” Artemis agreed. “Stay safe.”

“Headed for the undock–It’s going crazy here now,” Persephone replied, catching her breath. “Everyone’s talking at once; very exciting. I’ll call back in a little bit okay?”

“Okay,” Artemis smiled. This was better than any holovid. “Congratulations hon.”

“Love you!”

“!” Artemis squeaked involuntarily, putting her hand over her mouth.

The call disconnected.

It’s not yet official, but it appears that I am probably the first-place finisher in Death Race 2010.

I’m going to go have a nervous breakdown now. Full post to follow tonight or perhaps tomorrow.