An Economy Under Threat
The Citadel region — Caldari Border Zone constellation
Hatakani system — Planet VI — Moon 4
Hyasyoda Corporation Refinery station
2 July YC 127
When I got the next call from Immuri Asaka he sounded agitated. I hurried to his office, thinking there was some kind of breakthrough in his research.
“Vlad, I am so glad to see you!” exclaimed the agent when I walked in.
I had a bad feeling about it — agents were never glad to see me for my own sake. To think about it, probably no one was. Except Aura.
“How is your drone research going?” I asked, still hoping for good news.
“Forget the research! I need your help urgently — it’s a question of life and death!”
“Whose?”
“The colony’s. Damn that Vitimala! He stopped the delivery of farming supplies to our agricultural colony while he was blockading the hive.”
“Wait a moment,” I protested, “you’ve lost me. What is the connection between Vitimala’s blockade and colony supplies? It’s not like the hive is in the middle of a shipping route.”
“Well, kind of. You see, the deliveries went through a warehouse anchored in the same deadspace pocket where the bloody drones decided to build their bloody hive.”
“So, what do you want me to do — break Vitimala’s blockade? I don’t have a capital ship to do it. Also, attacking Caldari Navy won’t look good on my CV.”
The agent rolled his eyes, “Vlad, Vlad, Vlad. Not every problem has to be solved with violence. All I am asking you to do is deliver the supplies to the warehouse.”
I scoffed, “I am not trained to pilot a blockade runner.”
“Why blockade?” Immuri exploded. “There is no blockade! There is no Vitimala! He has been replaced and the new fleet commander will not block the delivery.”
I stared at the agent and said, “Why didn’t you tell me that straight away?”
Immuri suddenly looked abashed, “Didn’t I? Sorry. There is so much happening that after one day nothing is news anymore, and I think that everyone is in the know.”
“No worries, mate,” I replied sympathetically. “Lately, I’ve been living in a bit of a bubble, so everything is news for me.”
“So,” the agent looked at me hopefully, “are you taking the contract?”
“Um…” I hesitated, “you said that the new fleet commander would let transports reach the warehouse. Why do you need me for that? You can send a regular civilian freighter there.”
“Why? Two reasons. Firstly, the civilian pilots refuse to go anywhere near that hive. Our assurances that they will be under protection of a large Caldari fleet do not impress them.”
“Did you try to offer them more money?”
Immuri nodded, “We did, and this is actually the second reason. We raised and raised the reward until it almost reached the amount we pay capsuleers, but still there were no takers. Then I thought to myself, I would rather hire a capsuleer.”
“And you didn’t come up with a better idea than hiring a guy with a Cormorant,” I said sceptically. “How many trips do you think I’ll have to make to deliver all those ‘farming supplies’?”
“Only one. The whole cargo is just 150 cubic metres. I’ve checked the specs — it should fit in your destroyer.”
“Just 150 cubic metres, you say?” I asked suspiciously. “What’s in it?”
“Pesticides. Highly concentrated. They ordered them weeks ago. Now they are on the brink of losing all their crops. That is why this mission is so urgent.”
I rubbed my thumb and index finger, “Red Frog–urgent?”
The agent harrumphed, “With the money they charge for a rush contract, you can buy that colony twice over. No, we pay a regular level 1 mission fee, but the urgency bonus is 160%.”
I knew there were no crazy millions in such missions but tried to push the envelope anyway.
“Make it 200%, and I am in.”
The agent tapped his datapad a few times and sent it skidding over the table to me.
“This is the confidential part of the mission brief, for my eyes only,” he said. “There is a section called Max Bonus. What do you see there?”
I found the section on the screen, “It says 162%.”
The agent nodded, “That’s all I’ve got. Take it or leave it.”
I shrugged, “It’s not like I have something more important to do,” then I looked pointedly at Immuri and added, “unlike some drone researchers.”
Immuri threw his hands in the air, “How can I find time for research when all I do is fighting fires? The quicker you help me sort out this mess, the sooner I go back to the lab.”
I sighed and pressed my thumb to the datapad sensor, accepting the mission.
As the capsule was filling with the pod goo, I ruminated on why a certain combat pilot kept finding himself on delivery missions. My reverie was interrupted by Aura’s bright voice.
“Good morning, Cap!” Then she did a double take and said carefully, “You don’t look yourself today.”
“Because I am not,” I replied gloomily. “Today, I am a frog. A red frog.”
The Citadel region — Caldari Border Zone constellation
Hatakani system — Mission location
The drone hive looked bigger than I remembered, but so did the fleet. The six battleships were complemented by cruisers and frigates which could deal with smaller, more agile drones, should they wish to escape or attack. I grunted appreciatively and started studying the area in search of the warehouse. There it was, nestled between two tactical outposts, a fair distance away from the hive. I started approaching it when a voice in the local channel challenged me in a crisp military tone.
“Destroyer Kaukokärki, state your mission and destination.”
Not being in the mood for talking, I ignored the Navy frigate which was calling me and continued on my way.
The voice became more urgent, “Kaukokärki, you are in the restricted zone. Stop immediately or I will open fire!”
To show that they were not joking, the Navy frigate put a target lock on me. I rolled my eyes and did something very stupid — I target-locked the frigate in return.
“Sir, this is the last warning,” the voice sounded almost hysterical. “Stop or we shall open fire!”
Suddenly, the icons of all ships in the closest Navy wing, including the battleship, lit up with yellow brackets.
“Uh-oh,” Aura said tensely. “Ca-ap?”
I swore and dropped the target lock. Indulging my foul mood was not worth losing Kaukokärki and Caldari State standings.
In the local channel I said gruffly, “Do you, guys, even talk to each other? I am here on an official mission from Hyasyoda corporation — farming supplies delivery. Weren’t you informed?”
“We were expecting a freighter, not a destroyer,” explained the Navy officer, and added sarcastically, “When did the capsuleers start doing grocery deliveries?”
“When your civil pilots lost faith in their Navy,” I bit back. “Now, may I proceed?”
“It’s not like you stopped,” grumbled the officer.
That was true — I dropped the target lock but did not slow down. In fact, I was already within the tractor beam distance from the warehouse. I opened my cargo hold and transferred the container to the structure.
I wanted to say something smart before departing but the Navy ships still held target locks on me. So I bit my tongue, cursed Immuri and warped back to the station.