P&P Fiction Contest - The Oxfeld Account

THE OXFELD ACCOUNT by Judas II

APHEND VII – Moon 7 – Carthum Conglomerate Foundry Kador – Amarr Empire

His quarters were remarkable small if they were supposed to home a captain, he thought. Indeed. The room was laid out on two levels, separated by two or three small steps. The great eye catchers were of course the three large screens repeatedly displaying unimaginative advertisement and battle reports from far, far away. In front of the display screens a low coffee table with accompanying couch. He turned around and found a set of cupboards, and a bunk one would not dare sleep in for all the ISK in New Eden.

Next to the uncomfortable looking bunk, in the corner, was a mirror. He walked up to it, paused, and sighed. In front of him stood a reversed image of one very weary ore miner. A short, stocky, middle-aged ore miner with a bewildered set of black hair full of dirt. Leather jacket, leather boots, and yes, leather pants, which were extremely uncomfortable. Marcus Oxfeld gazed his own reflection in the eyes and sighed once more. His Caldarian face was a mess, not to speak of the hair! Ignoring those scars, (for those were hard to hide) his face was covered in space dust.

Having a drink he walked over to the sofa, keeping his eyes on the monitors displaying the latest price index of the Covetor-class Mining Barge. He was so fascinated by the rising stock prices.

Generally, Marcus Oxfeld’s days passed by quietly without much action to speak of, he was an honest and hard worker. Although it commonly should be for an ore pilot, he never kept a journal or log on his space travels. The life on the Gleaner, his Venture-class Mining Frigate, was not much to make a note of. He never particularly enjoyed this line of work either but it was an honest living, of sorts. Marcus was currently on contract for the Carthum Conglomerate Foundry corporation, part of the Amarr Empire in a solar system named Aphend. To be frank, he didn’t care much for the Amarrians and their fanatic weirdo religions.  Oxfeld did what he could to keep his head afloat, knowing, or rather, hoping he would one day earn enough to leave his mining career behind him. But the awful truth is that he didn’t know of any other life other than that of a miner. But there was one other thing. His name. He didn’t quite like it at all. No adventurer or privateer was named Oxfeld. Pathetic.

APHEND IV – Asteroid belt 1

Bit by bit the mining lasers scorched through the rocks, yielding the precious minerals ever so slightly. Veldspar was probably the most common rock you could find in New Eden but a profitable piece of stone nonetheless for it housed the ever-required Tritanium, which was the undeniable cornerstone of the world as he knew it. ‘Trit is love, trit is life’, he cheered to himself from inside the Gleaner.

Upon inspection the Venture’s ore bay was filling up nicely just when a familiar Procurer-class Mining Barge warped in next to him and a Commlink went up.

‘Marc, my man! How’s it going today? How is that Veld coming along, sucking up good, eh? Ha ha!’

‘Good day to you too, Xander. All’s well, as long as you stay away from my rocks, why don’t you take that Pyroxeres over there that nobody wants anyway,’ Oxfeld replied with a smile.

Xander Geolof was of Gallente origin and had met Marcus a good few months ago in a system close by and had decided to keep an eye out for each other ever since. Marcus and Xander got along well, not only because of their equal way of making a living, but also because of their mutual interests in activities outside a mining ship. And that was drinking. A lot of drinking. Booze, spirits, liquor, the hard stuff, by Jove he drank it all, as long as there was a trace of alcohol in it. And for better or worse, so did Xander Geolof.

APHEND VII – Moon 7 – Carthum Conglomerate Foundry

Marcus unloaded his ore bay of the Venture and had it piled, ready for shipment to his contractor. He had been drilling for a couple of hours already and decided now was a good time for a sip of something intoxicating. Some moments later, he indeed found himself heavily intoxicated laying on his sofa in a most unnatural manner. Just then the captain’s quarter’s door opened and Xander Geolof walked in. A most unusual event for some, but certainly not for these miners. The Procurer pilot was a tall lad, much taller than Marcus. Or perhaps Marcus was just rather short indeed, but in any case the two didn’t look like the other at all; Xander Geolof was a large, blonde short-haired man with a merry face. A peculiar feature of his was that both his ears and nose would turn fire-like red after consuming only the tiniest amount of beverage. A remarkable quality. Right now his face was glowing.

Hours passed whilst the two drunks discussed a wide variety of pointless topics as well as just generally dismissing the entire Amarr Empire all together.  At this moment a most unexpected Commlink opened and projected on the quarter’s main screen. The portrait of a security agent appeared and replayed an obvious pre-recorded message.

SLAS RAUNARD

‘Good day, Marcus Oxfeld. My name is Slas Raunard, head security of Carthum Conglomerate Foundry, and I require your assistance ...’

Marcus was completely perplexed by the sudden appearance. This made him instantly sober, he had never had a security agent contact him before, for he was just a simple miner. ‘I’m afraid you’ve got the wrong guy, pal.’

‘A few days ago our security team intercepted an encoded package from the criminal organization the Blood Raiders. So far we have managed to decipher several pieces of information and traced a major complex within the neighbouring system Dresi ...’

‘Do they make this stuff up as they go along, or what?’ Xander wondered out loud.

‘Will you shut up, I’m trying to listen to this,’ replied Marcus.

‘We need you to head over to system of Dresi and follow the coordinates. Find the Blood Raider complex and intercept any information you can get. Any details we get could prevent a future attack. The hidden complex will likely be well guarded by hostile warships. Be prepared and take a wingman with you if you must. This mission is of utmost importance to the Carthum Conglomerate Foundry, and would not go unnoticed in the world. I’m sending you the full details through your NeoCom.

Help us, Marcus Oxfeld, you’re our only hope.’

‘You’ve got to be kidding me. Your only hope? By Jove, what am I supposed to do with this then,’ Marcus reflected. First of all he had no idea where all this was coming from, and secondly he couldn’t remember the last time he sat in a combat vessel before. ‘Blood Raiders, eh, aren’t those the nasty ones?’

AMARR VIII (Oris) – Emperor Family Academy

The Amarr Empire’s main trading hub was eponymously called Amarr too. A colossal place. Or palace, even. Although he was somewhat reticent at first when he arrived he reminded himself he was here for a reason. The Gleaner certainly was a fine Venture but for this next task he would need something better than Mining Lasers. Actual firepower! Marcus Oxfeld had extremely little experience flying any combat ship, but coming from a traditional Caldari line he was schooled in the use of missiles, but again only with slight experience. Another issue was ISK. Or rather the lack of it. He could keep his Venture maintained but a whole new combat ship could be a costly investment. In fact, the main reason he accepted the agent’s contract was the promise of a good amount of hard cash. Browsing through the market availabilities his eye fell on a Caldari Kestrel-class War Frigate, equipped with a full rack of missile launchers. This would do just fine, he convinced himself. Indeed, so did the docking master trying to sell the ship to him; Marcus didn’t need much persuasion when a reseller spoke to him.

‘Excellent damage projection, this one,’ he got told, ‘These launchers make short work of all them you-know-what. In fact, tell you something, I’ll put a proper Afterburner on it for you, no worries. Have you thought about completing it with some ballistic units? Could improve your missiles a great lot further, don’t you know. If you like maybe I can find a cheap shield boost for ya.’

Quite. A shield booster. Marcus hadn’t even thought about it. He didn’t realize until now the potential danger he would be walking into. For ages he flew under the protecting wings of CONCORD, but not this time. He did indeed question the agent why they couldn’t just send CONCORD in there and do the job for them, but the only answer he would get, which he found rather improbable, was that it just “doesn’t work like that”. Doesn’t work like that, he mumbled to himself, then how does it work?

‘Eh, yeah, a shield booster, that’d be good, wouldn’t it. And you can throw me a discount on that?

A couple of hours later Marcus Oxfeld was the proud owner of a new Kestrel-class Frigate, equipped with, missile launchers, afterburners, missile control systems, even a shield boost. The latter he hoped he wouldn’t had to be using at all. He figured the ship would need a name. And a celebration! He symbolically opened a bottle of champagne for his own consumption and baptized his new prize the “Adventure”. For he was to have one indeed.

DRESI – Outside the Royal Amarr Institute station

Marcus and Xander agreed they would meet up outside the Royal Amarr Station with a combat ship and to then draw up a plan of action. A Gallente Thorax-class Attack Cruiser appeared within directional scan range.

‘A Thorax? You’re joking! Where did you get that from?’

‘I sold the Procurer, look, it’s even got Neutron Blast...’ Geolof cheered with great enthusiasm but got interrupted immediately.

‘You what?!’ Marcus cried out, ‘Sold the Procurer? What the blazes were you thinking!’

'Well, I didn't think I'd need it any longer,’ he replied, somewhat surprised by Marcus’s reaction. ‘What, is that a Kestrel you've got there? Ok, so what’s the plan then, rush in all guns blazing?’

Opposite to Marcus, Xander had surprisingly enough slightly more combat experience, but only just. His father forced him to enlist to the Gallente Navy where he flew as a poorly skilled Interceptor pilot. After the death of his father he quickly resigned to pursue other career paths. Due to his drinking behaviour he never quite made it passed the Procurer Barge. He figured this just might be a good opportunity to lead him to another way of life.

‘Well, I’ve been reading over the mission details again that I got from Slas Raunard. The complex is probably split up into multiple zones, we’d need to go through them all and see what we can find. It’s now or never, I guess.’

Marcus was convinced. Now or never, he repeated to himself. The two brave-hearts initiated their warpdrives and jump off towards the unknown.

DRESI – Deadspace

There it was, right in front of them. They beheld an ancient acceleration gate with great excitement. Neither knew what they were to expect. They activated the gate and their warpdrives kicked in again. Marcus was pumped, full of excitement Full of fear.

‘Hey, you got insurance on that....’  Marcus couldn’t finish his sentence. Their ships had exited the warptunnel and landed at the Blood Raider complex. ‘Would you look at that...’ he stammered in awe. He had never seen anything like this in his life.

Before them in a near distance laid the ruins of some sort of small outpost. It was barely visible as it was surrounded by a cloud of red dust. Blood red, he thought, most fitting. The Adventure carefully approached the Amarrian structure, followed by the Thorax behind him. They noticed that close to the outpost another acceleration gate was anchored. The ruined outpost didn’t look very lively, as most ruined structures are, so they figured their best bet was to follow through the next acceleration gate. Indeed, they were told that the complex would consist out of multiple areas. ‘Doubt we can salvage anything out of this,’ Geolof hinted towards the outpost.

But then, more than half a dozen warships appeared before them! Frigates, even Destroyer-class Blood Raiders came rushing and crushing towards the two pioneers.

‘I’m getting locked up,’ a nervous voice said coming from the Thorax.

‘Blast ‘em, blast ‘em!’ Marcus echoed back whilst he readied his missile launchers. Laser fire crossed space left and right and the Thorax responded with volley after volley from his blaster cannons.

‘Low on shields, this armor repper better work, no wait, they switched fire, I think.’ Indeed, the Kestrel was now the focus point of the Raiders’ attention. Marcus had his closest target locked and fired a salvo off his missile battery. Boom! ‘One down, five to go’, he encouraged himself. His afterburner gave him a good thrust as he zipped passed the Destroyers. Two down! Xander too did an astonishing job hitting their foes but they didn’t want to linger any longer than they had to.

‘Let’s leg it, the gate is almost there!’ the two told each other. But the Adventure was not in agreement; it was stasis webified and drastically slowed down by the Blood Raiders. The Blood lasers blistered through the poor Frigate’s defenses.

‘Kick it!’ Xander shouted at Marcus, referring to his shield booster, ‘Now, now!’ A blue hue appeared around the Kestrel’s hull and boosted up his shield defense, again and again. No time to linger indeed, and he fired another volley of missiles into space, and again. Along the zapping of repeating blaster fire the Blood Raiders were bleeding well, till their raiding was no more and all that was left were the red coloured dust clouds.

‘Good shot, my good sir!’ Oxfeld commented on his partner in a jokingly posh manner.

‘Why indeed, thank you, sir! And you, well done!’ Xander putting up a mighty chic tone. ‘Wondrous!’ they laughed.

Marcus Oxfeld felt good. His fears got replaced by pure adrenaline and was more than ready to continue the mission, plus he was really looking forward to a good bottle of brandy afterwards. The two took a last look at the ruins and confirmed their scanners picked up nothing of interest and moved towards the acceleration gate. “Intercept any information you can get”, Marcus reflected the agent’s words, but he wasn’t entirely sure what sort of information he should be looking for. Data logs? Cargo? He hoped he would find something so very obvious he couldn’t be mistaken.

‘Alright, let’s go then, I’m activating the next acceleration gate again.’ Marcus followed the Cruiser into a deeper pocket of the so-called deadspace. What he found at the end of the warptunnel almost gave him a heart attack. Dozens upon dozens of Blood Raider warships popped up on his scanners, all of them pointing their blooded noses at the two.

‘Maybe not, eh,’ cried Xander.

‘No, no, we can do this! See that cluster of Frigates to your right, just forty clicks out, take them out. I’m going to fly right through the main blob, that will get their attention no doubt! We’ll pick them off one by one, let’s focus our weapons!’ He didn’t know what had come over him, but Marcus felt more confident than he had ever been in his life. It felt like a turning point and he wouldn’t let it pass uninvolved. Geolof acknowledged his mate’s order and started burning starboard. Meanwhile the Kestrel’s afterburner began thrusting again and headed straight ahead towards a group of Blood Raider Cruisers.

Marcus was too busy dodging laser fire he didn’t noticed a peculiar looking Amarr Bestower-class Industrial vessel anchored to a minor outpost the Blood Raiders were guarding. It would only be until after the fight that he realized this Bestower was carrying a mother lode of illegal drug, mostly combat boosters. Among the debris of the smoking Industrial wreck they would find a detailed trade log belonging to the Blood Raiders. Exactly what their mission agent was looking for. This achievement definitely deserved a bottle of brandy, no, two!

APHEND VII – Moon 7 – Carthum Conglomerate Foundry

SLAS RAUNARD

‘Excellent work, Marcus Oxfeld. We, and indeed the Amarr Empire is grateful to your services. I am sending you your reward in credits along with this message.’

Marcus Oxfeld counted his ISK, every million of it. He had never been as rich as he was now! Mister Raunard the security agent was pleased, and had rewarded them well, but for now his job was done. He had retreated back to the old trusty Gleaner and continued his quiet routine of drilling for Veldspar, but he couldn’t deny the thrill he got from combatting the Blood Raiders. In the following evenings Oxfeld and Geolof would sit together accompanied with a crate of port wine. Gallentean port, the proper stuff, grown and processed in Caille. The two, especially Marcus reviewed their actions with great enthusiasm.

‘Who would have thought it,’ he said to the former Procurer pilot, ‘Us taking on the Blood Raiders! By ourselves! What a feat, eh, Xander!’ He was very proud of himself. ‘Oh I wish I could do it all over again, and again all over! Pass me that bottle will you. Not that one to your left. Thanks.’

‘This one? Here you go. So why don’t we?’ asked Geolof daftly and handed over the port.

‘What do you mean? The Raiders? They are gone. It was a hypothetical statement,’ he answered, but then remembered the fact Xander had sold his Mining Barge and the only vessel he had of note was his new Thorax. At least Marcus still had his Venture but he knew his good partner would not want to go back to mining. The last few days, ever since their combat encounter Geolof had hardly undocked. He would spend his time walking in the station, which turned out very uneventful time after time, whilst Marcus kept harvesting Tritanium for his contractor. The nights they would spend together mostly drunk.

‘Well, have you at least asked Raunard if he had any more work for us?’

‘No, I haven’t,’ confessed Marcus. He had his reasons. During his drunken hours at night he did not care for any more action, as long as he had enough ISK to import more spirits. During his sober hours he was mining, and if he were to be honest, he was a little scared to do it again, despite him bragging about it towards Xander. Truth is he was proud of his feat, his achievement, and he did enjoy the thrill, but somehow he thought it was mere luck that kept him alive, and he wouldn’t risk his skin for it twice. ‘No – no, I haven’t contacted Slas Raunard again. You think I should?’

‘Well, we did pretty well, didn’t we? There’s good money on it, be fair, Marcus, loads better than mining, Jove curse it. Dammit, do we have another bottle of brandy?’

The next few days were quite unremarkable. Xander Geolof said he had some business to attend to closer to home within the borders of the Gallente Federation, which left Marcus alone for a couple of days. Things weren’t the same though. He thought about the conversation he had with Xander and kept thinking of his mission agent. One fine morning it happened again. He had just drank the most disgusting coffee he had ever had, (a typical Amarrian “quality”), and was about to undock the Gleaner Venture when Slas Raunard made contact for a second time.

‘Got another job for me?’ asked Marcus Oxfeld curiously.

SLAS RAUNARD

‘Why, yes, Marcus Oxfeld, something has just came up. One of our facilities right here in Aphend got sabotaged by a squad of infiltrators belonging to the Sansha’s Nation. We would like you to go in and stop this menace. Be wary, they are both armed and dangerous. I’m sending you the details to your NeoCom. By the way, I took the liberty to upgrade your Kestrel-class Frigate. Make good use of it.’

Marcus did not had to think long. He knew Xander was not here to aid him but it did not stop him – an offer like this could not passed along. He had been too held back to contact Slas himself but if the agent came to him then it surely meant business. Slas Raunard needed his help, right now, right here, in Aphend! He threw the appalling Amarrian coffee away and jumped in the Adventure.

When he undocked he had realized the Adventure was indeed fitted quite differently. The agent had made room for a Target Painter module and the Afterburner was replaced by a Micro Warp Drive! ‘By Jove, man, this guy is made of money!’ Marcus cried out. He simply couldn’t believe it.

APHEND – Deadspace

As the Adventure exited its warpdrive Marcus observed a field of wrecked ships in front of him. Tens of them, all of which belonged to the Sansha’s Nation. Someone has already been here, he thought to himself. Just ahead laid another acceleration gate. He activated it and went through. On the other side he found a badly damaged station as if an attack had just happened. Most likely the work of the mentioned saboteurs! There had been no other ships on the grid when he arrived but when he approached the outpost a Destroyer undocked from it. A Sansha’s Nation Destroyer! Both parties didn't hesitate a moment and proceeded to lock each other up. But before Marcus could activate his shield defenses a beam laser scorched the Adventure’s wings. ‘Oh boy, not good!’ as he readied his launchers. ‘Don’t panic, Marcus!’ he cried to himself. He fired a volley of missiles at the enemy Destroyer but hardly breached its defenses whilst more laser fire hit him. His shield booster had a real proper time catching up with the incoming fire and it looked as if it wasn’t going to hold. ‘Wait, wait! Don’t panic, DON’T PANIC!’ Just then he remembered his newly acquired Target Painter which would literally “light” the Destroyer up. The Target Painter would work as a guidance system for his missiles, drastically increasing its chances for a hit. And indeed the missile went home! The Destroyer was losing its shield rapidly now! Another salvo, and another! But the fight was not over yet. Marcus’ Kestrel was getting in dangerous low shield when the Sansha pirate took another course of action; he legged it! It turned about and started burning away from the Adventure with increasing velocity. But Marcus would have none of it! He activated the Micro Warp Drive and chased him down with great fury. He aimed the Target Painter a final time and launched another volley of his missile launchers. The Nation’s Destroyer was now nothing more than a burning scrapheap of metal fragments.

He reviewed his Kestrel; missile launchers emptied, no shields, armor breached half-way. ‘Phew – good thing I didn’t panic...’ A Commlink went up.

SLAS RAUNARD

‘Well done, Marcus Oxfeld. I just got word the demolishers are dealt with. Loot their cargos; it appears a very specific document was taken from the outpost. We need it returned immediately. Do not return it to me. Bring it to my colleagues in Bordan V – Noble Appliance Factory. I will contact you again once I have received clearance from them.’

The Sansha’s Nation Destroyer wreck had indeed a sealed cargo container in it, and very lucky it wasn’t destroyed or even damaged. But Oxfeld did face a problem, though. The Bordan system had a low security rating. A system housed by harmful people that would have no greater pleasure than to destroy any by-passer coming through that pipe. Damn pirates. And not to speak of his badly damaged Kestrel Frigate. Marcus knew that Raunard would not give him a dime of ISK before successfully completing his objectives, and if he was send to Bordan then that is what he would have to do. He just didn’t like it one bit. But first he had to get his priorities straight: he needed a cold beer.

APHEND VII – Moon 7 – Carthum Conglomerate Foundry

He was more than pleased to see Xander Geolof returning to his base station when he saw the Thorax docked up at the hangar bays. The two quickly met up and Marcus was anxious to tell him what was going on. He also noticed how Geolof’s ears and nose were glowing again.

‘For real? You went in all alone? You’re crazy!’ Xander danced around, nearly spilling his cognac in excitement.

‘I know, I know! But I need your help. Or cash. Or both, actually. I see you still got the Thorax, marvellous! First I need to get the Adventure patched up and then I need to find this system called Bordan. Do you know this place?’

‘Yeah, cakewalk,’ and Xander poured himself another glass.

‘Cakewalk? It’s low security space! How exactly do you consider that a cakewalk?’ Marcus knew he shouldn’t really be drinking all that much right now, but he couldn’t help himself within the company of his friend.

‘Well, you know, it’s not like its null-sec, I mean, come on. Besides, I’ve seen low-sec before during my time in the service.’

‘Right... And how long have you been in the Navy again?’

‘That’s classified.’

The two were on their way to become uncontrollable drunk but it did not bother them one bit. Marcus had become slightly more conciliatory towards the Amarr Empire (especially after the security agent handed them over a bag of money for their work), so they would now had to target their drunken malice towards something else. The Sansha’s Nation would be suitable, they figured.

‘They’re as bad, if not worse than the Blood Raiders, aren’t they. That Destroyer was proper- tough! Bloody Sansha, and their bloody lasers.’

‘You know,’ Xander went on, ‘I’ve heard the Sansha would invade a planet and kidnap everyone, then brainwash them to turn into slaves. True Slaves, they call them!’

‘Woah – no way!’ Marcus yelled in a voice that was not entirely his own anymore after so many drinks.

‘A story like that has got to be true!’

The next morning they would start their short journey towards Bordan, a mere six or so jumps from Aphend. The Kestrel and Thorax pilots both denied the fact they were still somewhat intoxicated from the night before but didn’t want to come out like a total wimp. Oxfeld made sure the sealed package was in his cargo hold, nicely labelled with the destination station. They approached the first stargate and moved through, system after system, till they reached the Zimmem system, one jump out of Bordan.

ZIMMEM – The last high-sec on the Bordan-stargate

‘We’ll be alright in there, you said? It’s safe, right?’ asked Marcus.

‘Safe? Yeah, it’s... I mean, it’s pretty safe. It’s like picking red at roulette. Safest bet in the house.’ Marcus sighed. ‘That will have to do, I guess... Here goes!’

BORDAN – Low security space

The Bordan V station was easy enough to find. The station belonged to the Noble Appliances Factory, an Amarr corporation that specializes in customized jewellery for the Amarr overlords. Interesting? Not at all; the only thing on Marcus’ mind was the fact there were fifteen astronomical units between him and that vault – just out of scan range.

‘Got anything on your directional scanner?’ ask Marcus to his Gallente wingman anyway.

‘Nada, let’s make a run or it.’ Geolof replied, and activated his warpdrive without actually waiting for a response from Marcus. In response the Adventure’s warpdrive got set into motion too. The station got closer and closer till it finally appeared in front of them. With their minds rushed they quickly docked up and dropped off the cargo for their agent Slas Raunard, confirmed the deed and a moment later Marcus saw his wallet balance skyrocket.

‘We’re loaded!’ he shouted at Xander in delight whilst looking at his unbelievable amount of ISK, and Xander, whose first response in return was to look for a bottle of liquor he might have kept in his Cruiser, for celebrations. Xander Geolof would often keep a few with him, just in case. However, they decided it would be best to make their way to Aphend first, after all they were still in low security space. Xander wasn’t impressed though.

‘You see, all this low-sec stuff, it's a cakewalk! Told you! Nothing to worry about, at all,’ and climbed in his Thorax again to depart from the station.

‘You know,’ said Marcus, ‘maybe it’s about time we team up with Raunard.’

‘I hope this corp has a wine cellar,’ Geolof nodded.

Marcus agreed, ‘Ain’t that right. Now let’s get out of here.....’