Racing Spy #3

December 109, ISGC Season 4,
Between Races 5 and 6

It had been weeks since my racing interceptor had been scanned at a training session, by a friend. Only problem was, this friend was the owner of a rival racing team, had scanned me and Kay unawares while on a friendly flight.

To mend our friendship, I had entrusted him with something of incredible value. To get even, I had asked him to promise the impossible.

I had offered him a miracle and a curse. He took them both.

Oh boy.

--

Races 4 and 5 went by and ISGC had lifted Ken's suspension from racing; he had already brought the ship I gave him to a race already and much to everyone's surprise.

The cynics thought it was just a rumour, that it could not really be my beloved Wing; others really believed it was -and it was, mind you- and chided me for being too kind with Ken, after what he did.

Maybe I was too kind. But I also wanted to get back at him.

Yin. Yang.

In spite of everything I still wanted to remain friends with Ken so, sometimes, I invited him to tag along when I explored in my Covops. The idea was, I would go in and find a radar site, Ken would then warp his Domi in and deal with the Sansha rats, and finally I would hack and salvage.

That's how we ended up in lowsec Sukanan.

It seemed such a good idea at the time.

Making a long story short, there was this radar site that took ages to pinpoint, we were a bit careless... and ended up with me hastily cloaking and Ken warping out in his pod. Before that, I had no idea you could be probed out so fast.

I know what you are thinking but, no, it was not my doing. Too crude and, besides, we were genuinely making up.

Afterwards, he gave me the chance to speak at the Fed Navy for the dedication of his replacement Domi.

As I prepared, I could not help but notice the irony. It was him that was being too kind to me. I did not deserve it.

Damit, he did not deserve it.

That was what I had in mind when, blinded by reflectors in my eyes, in front of the assembled crew of the Enduring Friendship (awww) I made my way to the podium and read a passage from one of my favorite poems.

If you can make a heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: 'Hold on!'

People must have thought those were tears of emotion.

They... were, but not quite the one they would expect.

--

As soon as I got back from the ceremony I called some files to my desk.

"Mirror, mirror, may I see the files tagged dagger and twist please?"

The nice synth baritone voice replied "Quin, I do not have anything to show. Additional files may be available to you if you plug in, would you like to try again?"

He can be so discreet. "Yes please."

I plugged. Two files were conjured and appeared as if hovering over my desk. Anybody else would have seen me stare into thin air.

I checked the dagger file carefully to make sure it was what I was looking for. Anonymous contract for a mercenary hit on an Executioner-class racing frigate.

Yes, that one.

Ken had promised to race to win and had also promised to bring my ship back. No one, not even Ken himself expected to... but it was still possible. Unless one made sure that, ah, expectations would be met.

The twist file was a draft of a personal note where I explained everything: "Ken, it was me all along..."

Drive the dagger home. Then twist it.

But there was no need for it anymore. "Cancel the contract, discard both files and please confirm no backups remain."

"Quin, all done and confirmed."

Sigh.

We were even already, my friend and I.

--

((OOC: Now again, who says that roleplay is dead in this game?

Anyhow if you are wondering, we only got halfway there. Eventually, Ken himself withdrew from the season, returned my ship safely and would not race ever again. In the meantime, he wrote some short pieces of fiction based on this, which I think were beautiful.

There is some difference between what I am willing to do in-game and out-of-game. Ken's player became more and more absorbed by RL and at some point in time I felt that going ahead and hurting him in game would hurt him in RL. That was a no-no, so I just dropped it. A few months later the Ken character died in his sleep and was biomassed. I am still friends with the player or at least I like to think that.

I do not think I ever told him about the entire plan, I certainly did not warn him in advance of the RP angle. Yes Ken, I would have had my ship blown up from around you. Or maybe you would have surprised me, and I would have had to deal with the guilt. Real surprise gets you real emotions -> great RP. Now I can only wonder how this would have played.

What I do know is that by giving you the ship I loved the most, I did get to see some of the best RP I have seen, and most of it was actually for real.

In any case, if you are reading this I hope you can forgive me for being such an awful person. And enjoying it. Immensely. Thank you!))

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Racing Spy #2

December 109, ISGC Season 4
Between Races 4 and 5

It had been weeks since my racing interceptor had been scanned at a training session, by a friend. Only problem was, this friend was the owner of a rival team, had scanned me and another rival unawares while on a friendly flight.

To be perfectly fair, we fully expect competitors to scan us, especially before or after the race if we are stupid enough to loiter around station, or racing at Waypoint 1 before the lead goes all meep-meep on the rest. But scanning us would mean one of them would have to sacrifice 'race fitting' for 'spy fitting,' which hurts their race. Tradeoffs.

After the incident, Kay was angry and hurt; she would not talk to Kendar in friendly terms ever again -I thought it a bit too much but, then again, there was history between the two and maybe that's why it hurt her so. I was bouncing between indignation and indifference; what bothered me the most was the laughable punishment he had earned from his team. And Ken? He already felt miserable.

So I was totally not planning to get back at him anymore.

Well, maybe I wanted to, but was not planning. There is a difference.

Some time after the incident and while he was still suspended, we were chatting and Ken was lamenting how he was such a bad racer -yes, he was always sort of in the back of the pack- that it would take a miracle for him to ever win anything. "A miracle," was the word he used. I do not really remember, maybe it was something in the way he said it, maybe I thought he just needed a nudge, or the way he looked downtrodden in my comms... then I had this crazy feeling...

How often do you get a chance to grant a wish? To perform a miracle for someone?

Without thinking twice, I contracted him my dearest championship-winning racing frigate, A Wing and a Prayer. My ISK 150 million full-poly-rigged crown jewel.

My pony.

Oh, I was not flying her anyway.

Okay, if this does not sound exactly like 'revenge,' it is because it isn't. The idea behind was so Sisters-of-Eve-ish -smother him under a ton of syrupy sweetness- that he would feel even worse about the spying incident, then wake up one day and decide he would become all the racer he could be. I wanted him to feel better, myself to be impressed and everyone to be happy. A recipe for mending broken friendships. It felt right, weird but right.

Ken accepted the contract and, as soon as he saw what it was, his eyes widened and my contract list started blinking: he wanted to return it right away.

I then realized what a big burden it must have been on him.

Oh, so that's why it had felt weird.

Look, an Executioner may be many things, none of these remotely related to the word "resilient." As beautiful as she is, the poor thing is like made out of glass, you need all your senses not just to race but to stay alive -and I should know, having raced an entire Season 3 looking over my shoulder. My head was telling me that I would not see my ship ever again - the odds of him surviving a single race with her were, ahem, a bit on the low side. I was letting go of something very close to my heart, maybe forever. He knew that.

I had a knot in my throat as I asked Ken again to please, please take her and race like he really meant it. Naturally, I asked him to promise me -promise me!- to fly the entire season on that frigate.

"I know everything is going to be alright. Just bring her back safely, will you?"

Can you see where this was going, don't you? I had done a miracle. And then I had put an evil curse on it.

What can I say? I am just that well-balanced.

He hesitated. On one hand I was sort of expecting him to promise me the impossible and race to win. I really wanted to see him try. On the other hand, this was going to be interesting... five races remained and I wondered on which one he would go off as a shower of sparks. Would he still go ahead, knowing the odds? Which promise would he keep... would he be careful? Or would he be daring? I was secretly hoping for daring.

And then he promised.

Either way, my part was done. Ken would now carry out his: whatever happened, whether he wanted or not, he risked betraying this incredible act of kindness, either by not racing or by losing my ship. Unless he raced to win.

Maybe someone would have to make sure that the ship was lost.

We were even. Almost.

(continued...)

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Racing Spy

November 109, ISGC Season 4, between races 3 and 4
Somewhere in Sinq Laison...

So I was testing the Poison Apple with her new rig. It was our secret weapon.

After months, we had finally gathered enough salvage for that second T2 polycarboard rig, used the second shot of Prof. Ryder's blueprint and set the fit crew loose on my racing interceptor.

Bye bye flying brick. Hello, gorgeous.


When they were finished she was lighter, therefore faster and nimbler when racing on MWD. Lots. People say Large T2 rigs are overkill, but every second counts and there is only so much that you can do with only two rig slots. You simply must have the best of the best. And there is nothing wrong with a few expensive treats. Mmmm, yes, one little problem: being dirt-poor. But having a kickass interceptor that cost the same as a small gang of battleships is sort of cool :)

It was time to go for a ride.

I eased her out of the hangar and set course to the test track. After a brief chat, Kay, Ken and I were up for it, I was going to try and see how much time I could cut the Auvergne-Renyn-Auvergne run from my 8 minutes and 20 seconds personal record. Also, I'd be watching Kay and I was sure she would be watching me. Race training is a chance to learn and improve.

Now think of it: how cool was that? The owners of the Big Three teams together, rivals chatting away at the test track. Only, Ken showed up in a Tristan and that is not exactly racing material.

A thought crossed my mind. Should I cloak? Too close. Nah, moving beyond range should be enough -MWD, eyeblink, orbit, there. Plus, he'd never shoot me.

But something was nagging me. Something was not right.

We chatted away for a while about stuff and then then Kay and I blasted off; Ken excused himself and had to go.

Eight minutes and fifteen seconds later (yay!), we were back to start another run.

--

Half an hour later we decided to call it quits. She was still faster with her Ares but, hey, I was improving my times and had been still watching her. She gated faster than I did, I rocked on align and approach. I was almost sure she was warping faster too.

Training over, we all ended up in the same chat channel. That's when it got interesting.

We talked about everything and anything and, at some point in time, Ken brought up rigs. Then T2 rigs. Specifically, Polycarbon Engine Housing II's. I complained about being a poor University student with no money -with 30M in the wallet it was completely true; it was because of the stupid price on poly materials but I was not about to say that- then Ken retorted with:

KZ > "Anyone using those things must be filthy stinking rich, or have a really big source of income."

*Dear reader. A distinction must be made now between what was said by a person (quotes), what was understood by the other person (translation) and, in some cases, what was really meant (meta-translation). Enjoy.

Translation*: I know your fitting.

Merde. Right then I knew what had nagging me: he had scanned me and probably Kay too. I simply knew it. Stupid, stupid Quin.

But Ken? He might as well have confessed right there. Why say anything to us? That was silly, in space we were vulnerable but in a chat channel we would pwn him. We would make him feel sorry for that...

Quin > I want T2, all the way :-) still wonder whether a poly/poly or a poly/hyper would be best...
Translation: I don't believe you. Prove it.
Meta-translation: I know you know and I am so going to make you admit to it.

KZ > I know who has 'em and who doesn't, so I'll know when to finally part with the cash.
Translation: Gotcha, and I am not telling you how.

How cute. Keep talking...

Quin > who has them and who does not?
Translation: Bullshit. You don't have a clue. La la la, Ken does not have a clue.
Meta-translation: Come on, tell us. You know you want to.

KZ > That's for me to know.
KZ > ...or not know. There's always the possibility I'm bluffing about my copious intel on rival teams. =P
Translation: I do have a clue, you silly woman. Wait. Damit, I think I am talking too much!

Ha, ha, too late.

Quin > Ken, just curious, are people in your team scanning other racers?
Translation: Boo! You have no secrets. What are you going to do now, come clean or lie to your friends?
Meta-translation: Game ooveer. Hello? You can tell us now.

The moment of truth...

KZ > Just so you ladies know, my intel comes from me. You've both been scanned. Whenever I've had the chance.
Translation: Aaaaah! I confess, I did it!

At that point the rest of the channel was paying attention. Kay was incredibly angry; Gyra, the Racing League organizer, jumped on him and threatened to kick him out of the channel. The point being, scanning during the race was expected and, during the race we would take precautions. But as friends... ouch. Where was the trust? He had taken pictures of stuff we wanted private.

(And before you remind me how stupid I was not to take precautions anyway, I will go and say yes, very stupid. I should have.)

He ended up feeling sorry. He had confessed not only to having scanned us both, but also to posting the results on his racing team's board. He promised to take everything down and make amends.

Moral of the story: read between the lines ;)

--

Within a day, his very own team convened to pass judgment. Before he died (no, no, that's a different story, he was not executed for this), Ken had been the owner of VRT and one of its racers, but Tak was the Captain and held the gavel. According to the team charter (his team has like a zillion rules - mine has one and it is "Have fun") he was reprimanded, suspended for like, two races, and fined ISK 10 million.

Two races. 10 million. And he did not like racing that much to begin with.

Grr. Even a dirt-poor University student can afford 10 million. I mean, paying 5 to get someone's scan is pretty much sale price. He had done it twice. At that price per ticket, even I would do that.

I was angry. And I was going to get back at him.

(continued...)

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