THE JUMPGATE DEFINITIVE GUIDE - Tripod

Ramblings
Let me tell you. It gets hot in a stock 'Nix. Those who've flown one - you know what
I mean. On a long flight, the extra 500 creds for the climate control addon and a
few minor additions? Well worth it. Coming up in the ranks you get a crap pod, too.
It sucks. Add in the stereo, the custom heads up display, the plush seat, the comm
upgrades, the squadron comp interfaces, the library system, the integrated combat
control system, and personally, I install the Tracker system on my tow. All kinds of
goodies. But, youngster, you have to realize. You *can* just buy one pod. You can.
Just trade it between ships. But what do you get when you do that, if you switch
ships a lot? A lot of useless crap in each ship. I went artifact hunting for a
while. Made a cool chunk of change. Helped finance the squad Command and Control
Center. Cool hardware there. Ties everything together nicely. But the other thing I
did; I outfitted 12 pods. No joke, kids. When you go out, who knows what you'll be
flying - or where you just came from, right? I log the occasional /home at a faction
station. I have to switch ships sometimes. So if I come in hot and need to swap out
fast, I got the custom pod waiting, right? Right. Costs me extra to store em, but
hey, if you got money, may as well use em, eh? 3 versions.
The big ugly monster pod in my Phoenix, well, he's a brute. He pisses me off. Why do
I anthropomorphize my pods? Some people would chalk it up to superstition, or pilot
tradition, or something of that caliber. Me? Umm, yeah. Well, see, there's this
thing. A while back I went on an ill-advised jaunt to unknown space, because I
thought I was hot stuff. Well, for my trouble, I got beat up on and got my head
caved in by some big ugly flux. Killed the pinkos. A lot of them actually. It's
like, my job, y'know? But they got me good. Well, my friend, at least I think she's
a friend; Aelagi. She wrote a lil tale about my outing, called "Ellipse". She has a
pretty turn of phrase, I think. Almost as prosaic as I am, prolly - but anyway. She
tells all about it. I'm rambling again, aren't I? Squaddies still swear I'm touched
in the head. But they're not far from the truth, really. I have a small computer in
my head. A cyborg interface. By Amananth standards, it's not too fancy. Doesn't give
me an "edge" or anything. Well, maybe a little. Sim with me one time and see... but
anyway. I hate rambling. Drives me crazy. But as my mom used to say... It's isn't
that long of a drive, is it? Bah. Regardless. It did weird things to my ship
computers. I have these tiny silicon transfer points in my fingertips that let me
"talk" directly to the ship's computer. I ... umm ... "developed" the ability to do
it without touching, now, too. How? Damned if I know. I don't really want to know.
It's weird. You know how some people talk about voices in their head? Heh. I can
tell you some whoppers, my man. TALL tales. Except, well, they aren't. Kinda sucks.
Anyhoo. Again. I *do* ramble, don't I? Chalk it up to one too many pod rides and
shaddup, k? Aight, thanks. SO. When I "talk" to these computers. It started going
both ways. They picked up on things. Parts of my personality. You ever talked to
yourself? There's some things about yourself that just tick you off occasionally,
right? Heh, well, umm. All 3 piss me off. Badly. Take Galileo, for example. He's my
brutish, slightly snobby, can do no wrong Fighter computer. He's a pain in my ass.
Sounds kinda like me when I get cocky, actually. I HATE cocky people. I don't like
the damn mirror at times, by the way. But yeah, moving on. He's good, though. He
anticipates things - he learns. Ever wish you had a co-pilot? It's cool. Except when
he pisses me off and tells me what to do - as I'm doing it. Snobby bast...
nevermind. You get the picture. Aristotle! Oh my lord what a bookworm. Smart as a
whip, too. Except he's *always* got to right, damn him. I hate the mirror. God I
hate the mirror. He mostly get's used for arty hunting, which is beneath his oh so
high and elevated station and... sorry. It makes him mad. Poor baby. It's one way to
stave off the boredom though. Every so often I take him out for a spin and play with
phocs, though. That's fun. Fast lil bugger, I'll give him that. Heh, Harvey. I swear
to you, I do *not* pick their names. I would never be a "Harvey". Oh Lord. But god
help me, I like the bastard. He's a cursing, loudmouthed curmudgeon who's stingy as
hell. But I love him. He likes arty hunting too. Screw you Aristole! Ha. Sorry. I
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