Been playing solo for awhile...and even though I have several high level toons, I've missed out on and am quite lame at the social elements of the game. I'm looking for a friendly fleet to help me change that and you folks may fit the bill.
Been playing solo for awhile...and even though I have several high level toons, I've missed out on and am quite lame at the social elements of the game. I'm looking for a friendly fleet to help me change that and you folks may fit the bill.
I'll be contacting you shortly. Thank you for your application.
EDIT:
In-game friend request and mail sent. To prevent bogus / spam invites I will be conducting the invite process myself. Catch you tomorrow.
In other news, this post in one of the Starbase construction discussions over on the big town end of the boards will detail our strategy for the rest of season 6. Don't waste your time and money on starbases. We're going to benefit PLAYERS FIRST.
This is Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer. I wanted to say a word or two about our Fleet members. They are some of the best folks you would want to meet.
Our recently admitted folks have already stepped up and taken active roles in the leadership and participation aspects of the Fleet. They're great. Positive attitudes. Insightful game-play. And willing to learn and even teach some of us more established players a thing or two.
The veteran players among us are super to campaign with. They lead with gentle wisdom and exceptional on-the-front lines follow me examples. I myself am still learning the ins and outs of this game from interface to what to do on missions I have not done. Everyone present does their best to answer my questions and give me good advice that really comes in handy. I know I am living a lot longer with fewer problems every mission.
Our Starbase is called, The Alamo. I am rather proud of it. More to the way that it was developed. We all worked together to gather the marks, resources and such to help create the Starbase that we all wanted. Our leaders, the founders of the Fleet, made it possible to do this by their incredible pre-planning and precise execution of said plans. They are the heart of our Fleet. And, if they are the heart, then, we fellow members, are the blood. We are dedicated to furthering each other as much as we can with our individual abilities, so that we all can have that much more fun.
If you would like to join, just send a request to Our Lady of Aggression, Whiskey Rose Carmen. I know that she would love to hear from you.
Got any questions, just post them here, or, if you see any of us online, drop us a line.
I raise a tankard of Bloodwine to you all!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
This is Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer of the Redneck Academy Fleet, and, I have a story to tell. Several, actually. But, more on that later. As part of our Fleet initiative, we encourage our members to role play their characters as much or as little as they wish. For my part, I like what is called, Fan Fiction. As such, I have written a short story from my character's point of view. I will post my tale here in the Redneck Academy thread as a three-part serial, since it is a bit long for a single forum post. The idea, beyond the pure joy of sharing a story of mine with you all, is that other members of our Fleet would be moved to post their stories here, as well.
It is now my honor to present to you part 1 of this serial. Enjoy!
Title: The Shapes of Things to come.
Part 1 of 3
"The night is quiet at the Alamo Starbase. I look out my rather rustic view port to the points in between the stars and ponder; the blackness of the void proving a worthy canvas for the projection of my memories. I sit down and pour a large tankard of bloodwine and remember.
It was a beautiful August evening. The sun was setting in bright streaks of red, gold and purple. The breeze was just beginning to pick up, wafting the scent of exotic trees in bloom to my grateful nose. The sand grass began to emerge from its daily refuge beneath the planet's surface, bringing with it a faint violet glow that would dissipate almost as quickly as it appeared. I had stepped outside to gaze at the sky. My beloved Tricia would be in orbit soon. After three years away to the nearest sector of unexplored space, I was really looking forward to being with her again. To look into those knowing eyes. To inhale the perfume she so expertly wore. To once again hold her in my arms. To say I was expectant of her arrival would be to say the least.
This pleasant moon on which we were based was one of a set of three revolving around an irritable seeming red gas giant. Enormous energy storms converged with volatile gasses at a very high atmospheric pressure to produce light shows the like not seen on any other known sphere. The energy emissions from the planet were enough to mask our moon from scans, but, not strong enough on the surface to interfere with normal living. Since we were also located near a sector of unexplored space, Starfleet thought it a perfect place to establish a research station slash exploration starting point.
Our specific location was a closely guarded secret due to the fact that we were also considered a choice strategic location in our fight against forces hostile to the Federation and our allies. Among other threats, the Borg were of prime consideration in our establishment. In truth, Tricia's real mission was to seek out the Borg and observe them clandestinely, if possible. It was hoped that the data her ship gathered would help us counter what was seen as an almost unstoppable adversary.
I stepped back inside when the cool dark descended, the slight wind beginning to develop into its customary nocturnal gale. My station console was beeping an alert as I approached. Excitedly I engaged the view screen. Replacing the blank gray screen was my heart's most fervent wish speaking to me. But, instead of the happy dancing eyes and lilting feminine voice I so longed for, I was greeted by a very concerned face that relayed a seriousness I had seldom seen on her countenance.
Tricia: "Bamm. This is Tricia. Do you read me?"
Bamm-Bamm: "You are coming through clearly. What is your situation, Captain?"
Tricia: "We are being pursued by a Borg cube. We are currently at maximum warp, but, they are gradually gaining on us. They would already have us if not for those experimental warp-core adjustments you sent to us last month. I don't think we can stay ahead of them before we get into orbital defense range of the moon."
Bamm-Bamm: "Tricia, I have alerted Orbital Moon Defense. They have you on their long-range scanners. The closest ship to you is the Science ship, U.S.S. Merlin. It will be able to assist in twenty-minutes."
Tricia: "Bam, that won't be quick enough. The cube has just increased speed and will overtake us in fifteen minutes."
Bamm-Bamm: "Damn! I'll think of something Trish. I have not waited this long to see you to miss out on our date tonight."
Tricia: "Bamm-Bamm. My dear beloved Bamm-Bamm. You have always been my knight riding in to save the day. Come get me. We'll be the ship throwing everything we've got at a stolidly menacing space faring geometry construct."
Bamm-Bamm: "I know you will. Bamm-Bamm, out."
A quick query of Orbital Moon Defense confirmed that there were no other mobile resources available that could hope to arrive in time to help rescue Tricia's ship, the Long Range Reconnaissance Vessel, U.S.S. Alma. There was no other choice. I headed to my lab at the edge of the compound."
End of Part 1.
I will post Part 2 of, "The Shapes of Things to come", August 28th.
Thanks for reading!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain - U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
I was out of action over the weekend due to a 40 degree C + high fever and some other collateral damage. I was only able to seek medical attention yesterday (Monday).
However that didn't stop me from doffing, acquiring the fleet's first Recluse carrier (EC purchase, with another on the way) and catching up with DS9's final season.
With the starbase frozen at Tier II we no longer are wasting possible millions of Dil on projects that ultimately give little to no benefit to individual pilots.
Rather, everyone's Dil earnings should be channeled to Zen conversions to take advantage of the extremely low exchange rate this season (as low as 152 dil / 1 zen over the weekend).
This approach of "TRIBBLE the trends, achieve maximum profit" allows everyone to build up huge amounts of Zen with which to acquire the c-store ships of their choice on both Fed and KDF factions.
It was possible to earn more than 2,500 Zen within a couple of weeks to purchase a Regent class.
STF Flight Instructor since Early 2012. Newbies are the reason why STO lives and breathes today. Do not discriminate.
As promised, here is the latest installment of my serial story. Enjoy!
Title: The Shapes of Things to come.
Part 2 of 3
********
Out of breath, I ran through the almost too slow auto-door. "Bamm," my colleague in science called out at my arrival. "I have been monitoring the situation. It is not promising. But, I believe I understand your haste. I have initiated start-up procedures. The capsule should be ready for launch in three minutes." I had always valued my relationship with my Andorian counterpart. I could have hugged him then and there. Enigmatic, Dr. Sandar could have the calm, logical reserve of a Vulcan one minute, and be caught up in uproarious laughter the next. And he was the most underrated authority on applied photonics I knew.
We were researchers here on this secluded moon. Our research project involved the intensive modification of a Mark III - Class A escape type pod into a test-bed for our respective theoretical concepts. Dr. Sandar had outfitted the pod with special prototype holo-emitters employing high-level photonic algorithims that enabled the dynamic configuration of photonic energy into structures more durable than their, "real world", counterparts. This allowed us to essentially create a, "real", ship construct out of thin air. Normally, the power required to maintain such a construct would be prohibitive for such a small vessel. However, my contribution was the invention of a new type of power core. I continued the warp-core size reduction techniques developed during the Defiant-class ship program and progressed them to several levels beyond that ship's core construction. Due to the problem of incremental power loss with each level of increased miniaturization, I embarked on the bolstering of the core with tetryonic energy. The results were phenomenal, if not slightly unstable. We had each taken our ship on a few atmospheric excursions, but, space travel was still untested. Now, we would be giving our novel conveyance a real trial by fire.
I boarded the pod via it's small utilitarian lift gate hatch. I began the secondary startup sequences as the hatch closed behind me. Through the viewscreen, I could see Dr. Sandar look up from his monitors to lift his hand in farewell and good luck. I smiled and nodded back, quickly refocusing on the now humming control station in front of me. With a low mechanical thrum, the safety locks slid into their awaiting slots. Environmental controls pressurized the cabin as I applied quarter power to the ship's holo-systems. The emitters whined to operational temperature. The core was reading stable. I increased to thirty-percent power. At this point, the preprogrammed holo-image began to take shape. We had chosen the form of the in-development Yellowstone runabout since it seemed an optimal form to use. At forty-five percent power, the holo-hull was strong enough for atmospheric flight. I signalled Dr. Sandar to open the hangar bay doors. I opened up the throttle to fifty-percent power as I cleared the still receeding bay doors. Half-way to the ionosphere, I increased power to sixty percent. Now the hull would be as solid as it would get. A view screen of stars greeted me as I passed eighty percent power. I set course for the homing beacon of Tricia's ship.
Now that I was in space, I made a quick ascertainment of the ship's condition. Navigation had a clear signal from the U.S.S. Alma. Holo-emitters were at ninety percent. Core power was steady at eighty percent. I increased the tetryon-plasma mix. One hundred percent power was now available. Going to full throttle, I should intercept the Alma in four minutes. There were no weapons on our little capsule. All we had was the pod's built-in emergency transporter. I was hoping that I could get close enough to the Alma to beam my beloved out of harm's way and make a run for it. The holo-image could be made to be transparent, so as to reduce our signature to that of a lone escape pod. I was hoping that would be enough of an advantage.
One minute from intercept and I had the Alma on my limited sensors. To my horror, the cube had already overcome the Alma and was tractoring her to pieces. I tried to open a channel with the Alma, to let Tricia know that I was almost there. Unfortunately, I could only receive. She could not hear me.
Tricia: "If anyone can hear me. This is the Long Range Reconnaissance Vessel, U.S.S. Alma. A Borg cube is attacking us and I fear that all is lost. I am initiating countermeasures to buy my people more time to get to the escape pods. Bamm-Bamm, I know you are doing what you can to save me, but, I am afraid you will be too late. I love you, Bamm-Bamm. Alright. I have waited as long as I can. Launch all pods. Initiate auto-destruct. Emergency Override: Delta Two. Authorization: Bamm-Bamm One. Mark."
Bamm: "No! No! I am almost there! Wait!"
The sound of the Alma's computer dutifully counting down to it's destruction filled my comm system.
I recklessly increased the tetryon-plasma mix to one hundred-twenty percent. I would be there in 20 seconds.
13, 12..10, 9, 8..
Bamm: "Hold on Trish! I am almost there."
At 3 seconds I could see the hull of the Alma being mercilessly grafted into the structure of the cube.
At 2 seconds, I was beside what was left of the command deck.
At 1 second, I was scanning for her comm signal amidst the Borg interference, hoping desperately for a lock.
At zero seconds, the sensors showed an emergency warp-core breach in progress. Despite the danger, I continued to look for her.
At zerro minus 1 second, I found her signal. At last! I had her!
***********************
Part 3 this Thursday, August 30th, 2012..
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain - U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
RnA has always prided itself on its ability to channel real life experience in military leadership and corporate management into actual in-game competencies.
From classical air and naval combat doctrines transformed into functional, newbie friendly and uniquely entertaining ESTF strategies, to real world financial management tools to plan and construct a starbase in record time, this formula has never failed us.
Today we see a thread lamenting on the uselessness of the starbase duty officer projects, massively expensive projects, and that people have gotten "stuck doing the same project for 2 weeks".
Well gentlemen, for the past two months I have been exonerating the virtues of concepts such as "strategic prepositioning of resources" and "strategic management" amongst other things.
These bits of valuable advice had however fallen on deaf ears, and we have had received replies that "the system is working as it should".
Now look who is complaining, and who is profiting?
With the new marketplace environment we have financed Recluse carrier groups from sales of formerly worthless commodities alone. We have also, by executive order, ceased ALL starbase construction in order to take advantage of the stupendously low Dilithium Exchange prices.
As a result, our pilots were each capable of raising up to 2,500 Zen every fortnight in order to line their virtual stables with any c-store item or starship of their choosing.
So why do so many people spend real money on starbase construction when such ventures are obviously worthless and do not give them anything in return.
Is it for the grandeur of this mystical thing called "fleet progression"?
Or is it just blind peer pressure to compete, compete more, just because everyone else is rushing to achieve that little "something new"?
Well I will tell you this - it's nothing new to make people want something, give nothing in return, and ignore consumer complaints. After all, those who failed to plan ahead and to plan and lead well, have led their followers into dead ends in due course.
There's no point complaining about mistakes.
But where there's an option to avoid all that lament and instead ride the surf and profit from global market conditions... RnA is here to achieve that and has always have.
We are a fleet that's not interested in the status quo. We are the NEXT GENERATION of gamers - interested not in senseless petty squabbles but collaboration, outreach and team victory.
For those who have joined us, you know exactly what sort of organization we are developing. For everyone else... our doors are always open.
STF Flight Instructor since Early 2012. Newbies are the reason why STO lives and breathes today. Do not discriminate.
How do you like the story so far? I hope you are enjoying it.
Below, please find the third and last installment in this first story of many.
Title: The Shapes of Things to come..
Part 3
***************************************
I initiated transport just as a little considered piece of software in the escape pod's operational matrix enabled itself. This standardized piece of code that had been part of every Federation escape pod constructed, recognized the impending threat and took measures to counter it. In this case, that was to engage full thrusters to get as far away from the core breach as possible. The resultant redistribution of ship's energy had the effect of destabilizing the transport beam. I watched the transporter pad powerless to re-establish transporter power, despite my best efforts.
As her Captain had planned, the Alma's core breached, exploding with enough force to vaporize nearly half of the Borg cube. However, her Captain did not go down with her ship. No. She was engulfed in a deteriorating transporter beam on a prototype escape pod that was currently tumbling nearly powerless through space from the shockwave of the Alma's self-destruct. Inertial dampeners failing, I held on to the transport console, while my beloved Tricia's body phased in and out of existence on the transporter pad. When she had nearly completely coalesced, I heard her whisper, "I love you." And then she was gone.
One of the transporter's power conduits shorted out, blowing a panel down on my head, knocking me out. I came to in my own comfortable bed, in my own comfortable quarters, on our paradise of a moon, without the person who made it our home. Her fading image still in my mind's eye. The last words she ever spoke, a deafening noise within my ears.
The U.S.S. Merlin had arrived soon after the Alma's self-destruction and resultant crippling of the Borg cube. Trish's.....Captain Tricia's heroic rear-action had bought her crew their safety. Seventy percent of ship's personell were recovered. The Merlin found my forlorn pod several kilometers away in a small asteroid field. The onboard control systems were still firing maneuvering rockets to keep the pod safely away from the floating debris when the Merlin tractored it and beamed me aboard. Their Doctor stabilized my injuries and had me sent to my quarters on the moon to recover. Several months later, the Borg attacked the Federation at Wolf 359. I was still grieving Tricia's death when I heard of the attack. I made up my mind then and there that I had to do my part to drive away the Borg, to prevent anyone else from losing their loved ones to this heartless and cruel adversary.
I joined Starfleet to train as a Captain. After graduation, I was commissioned to Escort duty. I requested posting in the most far flung, inhospitable sectors of space where the Borg were known to roam. As a more or less independent expeditionary force, I and my fellow officers were left to our own cognizance on how to conduct operations. It is in this vein, that we have come together as like-minded individuals to form our own Fleet. A Redneck Academy Fleet. Where we work together to get the job done no matter what, no matter the circumstance. As a group, we commissioned the construction of this Starbase. The Alamo. It is from here that we stage our raids against any and all threats to the Federation, but, especially, the Borg.
I drained the bitter dregs of the bloodwine from my tankard. Vision blurred, I made the familiar trek to my bedroom quarters. My last thoughts before forgetful slumber had her way were of my beloved Trish.
"I miss you. I love you. Good night."
*******************************************
I hope you have been entertained by my story. Please feel free to post your comments concerning it or other RP related topics here in our Redneck Fleet forum thread.
I look forward to reading your stories, fellow Fleet members.
Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer, U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
One of the unique features of this fleet is that we emphasize on profit.
Profit not for the group but for yourself: what do you hope to achieve playing STO?
Certain other fleets place a high regard on code of conduct, in-game performance or even social interaction.
But what does the individual get in return? That good feeling about being "part of a gang"?
Having an entry in the starbase construction hall of fame?
With the game being designed as a massive time sink, one can be assured that the answer is actually this: You get nothing at all, and any rewards are pretty much a trick in perception.
You can be sure that if you personally financed an entire starbase tier that you have wasted countless hours grinding dilithium and wasting in-game resources to compete with a flawed supply and demand market.
Worse, there appears to be very strong peer pressure amongst fleets to attain the best and biggest bases, or to be at the top of whatever competitions held amongst said community.
This has resulted in no one but PWE having a vast cash flow resulting from impulse purchases of zen and z-store ships as players "follow the Joneses".
Ironically, this current market trend has allowed us to profit greatly from boycotting the starbase system (after a certain point) and focusing on profit at the personal level instead.
A modest release of Romulan ale into the global market financed for us no less than three Recluse carriers. The rock bottom Dil - Zen conversion rate meant we each "bought" z-store ships once every fortnight with just a modest allocation of attention to dilithium farming.
The memories and investments made in IRL are lifelong.
One player's commitment to an STO fleet is worthless. And I say this because I do not want to see heroes coming in and saying - "I should 'help' the fleet by dumping 500k dil into the next tier." In here, veterans finance. Players lead the teams, free from liabilities and draconian (read: idiotic) rules of engagement that has plagued end-game content in STO for as long as we can remember.
So go forth and prosper. Video games are supposed to be entertainment and fun. They are not supposed to degenerate into the kind of internet self-ego-boosting asshattery you see in "certain sections of the forums" for the whole of Year 2012.
STF Flight Instructor since Early 2012. Newbies are the reason why STO lives and breathes today. Do not discriminate.
This is Capt. Bamm-Bamm Hammer of the Redneck Academy Fleet. I wanted to make you aware that we have a new ad running on Sub Space radio concerning our Fleet. I would be mighty obliged if you went on over to their channel and listened in. They did a real good job on it.
Also, if you are looking for a laid back fleet of pilots that are friendly and knowledgable, with no name calling or drama, Redneck Academy is for you. Give us a try.
We will be running missions most every day, but, especially Friday evenings, Saturday and Sundays. Just give us a buzz when you are online and we will gladly add you to our fun.
Ever wondered how some players seem to have everything, but you're still struggling to get the bare minimum to survive? Let Redneck Academy help!
Hi, my name is Vice Admiral Andreas Cruise of the U.S.S. Son Of Ramon-E, telling you that you don't have to struggle to acquire whatever you wish, and I can show you how. Here at Redneck Academy, we teach pilots how to balance having fun with applied economics with insights from individuals who have the know-how and experience derived from real life...
Believe it or not, the Exchange is a great learning tool to understand the fundamentals of economics. We can teach you how to maximize your profits on the Exchange while at the same time being able to enjoy your STO experience. With the knowledge you can gain, you will never feel cheated out of being able to enjoy having all the bells and whistles!
I just wanted to drop a little note letting you know that we had an excellent time running misions together this Saturday. Thanks to all who participated.
Got some Borg chips, salvage and such. Did some trading. Made bad guys go boom.
We will be running missions and eps/STFs and all again this Saturday. Come on over and join the fun. We'll make room for ya at the Alamo. That's our Starbase.
First one to log-in gets to pick the beer. Course, you got to go get it, too.
See you there!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, VA
Redneck Academy Fleet
U.S.S. Horace - Regent:Bulldog Variant
I'm a mature gamer, fairly sorted IRL apart from computer game addiction. :rolleyes:
Not especially chatty but quite personable. I also have a thick skin so tell me if I ask too many questions.
I spent 20 mins making my char look decent only all I get to see now is the back of his head, which I didn't focus on at all.
I'm a mature gamer, fairly sorted IRL apart from computer game addiction. :rolleyes:
Not especially chatty but quite personable. I also have a thick skin so tell me if I ask too many questions.
I spent 20 mins making my char look decent only all I get to see now is the back of his head, which I didn't focus on at all.
Morkon@mrfragtastic
Good afternoon Morkon
In regard to you requesting to join our fleet... we are more than honored to join us, however upon sending you the request to join, an error ocurred. It appears that you are still a part of a fleet. So it says. So either you have been sent an invite and you still haven't accepted or you need to leave your previous fleet before you can join us. Just let us know if everything on your end is squared away so that we can re-send the invite.
It appears that you are still a part of a fleet. So it says. So either you have been sent an invite and you still haven't accepted or you need to leave your previous fleet before you can join us. Just let us know if everything on your end is squared away so that we can re-send the invite.
Ah yes, I got a flyby invite from some random fleet but I've found the leave button so please invite again.
And good morning to all... It's been a busy week at the Rednecks and our sister KDF fleet Legio XVI, where we have just reached Tier 1 in Science. Much thanks to our comrades for pushing that upgrade through. Also, we are nearing Tier 3 in Engineering over at the Alamo, which should be ready to commence this week.
In other news, we are actively seeking recruits with a sense of adventure and comradely to join our ranks. We are an established medium sized fleet with about 20 members that love all aspects of STO. We do weekly STF runs and also tutor new recruits on the many subtleties of the game. Whether you're a seasoned pilot looking for a tight knit group of fellow pilots to run missions with, or if you're new to the game and want to learn from experienced pilots, then this is your fleet.
For more information, or if you're ready to roam the universe with a fleet that is a cut above the rest, please send an in-game message to @son_of_ramon, @polonious1, or @krylm.
I hope you choose us as your fleet
sonoframon, co-leader of Redneck Academy
WELL IF THE JAPORI INCIDENT HAS TAUGHT ME ANYTHING, IT'S THAT MY EXISTENCE IS AN EXPLOIT. THANKS CRYPTIC.
IF YOU ARE READING MY SIG - THEN YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG
This is Capt. Bamm-Bamm Hammer talking to you from the SB Alamo.
We're having a BBQ running this week and all of next weekend. I was wanting to send you an invite to join us. We'll have the fires goin' in our special plasma conduit smokers. We use super secret smoke wood from Bajor to give everything from Targ to Tribbles that great smokey flavor. You bring the beer and bloodwine, and we will handle everything else. Klingons are invited. Shoot. Our best griller is an old Klingon friend of mine.
Comments
My thanks for your diligence in this matter. I look forward to meeting you in-game!
My Youtube Channel
Been playing solo for awhile...and even though I have several high level toons, I've missed out on and am quite lame at the social elements of the game. I'm looking for a friendly fleet to help me change that and you folks may fit the bill.
How do I go about joining?
@AugustusB
Dear Sir,
I'll be contacting you shortly. Thank you for your application.
EDIT:
In-game friend request and mail sent. To prevent bogus / spam invites I will be conducting the invite process myself. Catch you tomorrow.
In other news, this post in one of the Starbase construction discussions over on the big town end of the boards will detail our strategy for the rest of season 6. Don't waste your time and money on starbases. We're going to benefit PLAYERS FIRST.
http://sto-forum.perfectworld.com/showthread.php?p=5426581#post5426581
Because you the player deserve much more recognition than just a statistic on the score board
My Youtube Channel
This is Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer. I wanted to say a word or two about our Fleet members. They are some of the best folks you would want to meet.
Our recently admitted folks have already stepped up and taken active roles in the leadership and participation aspects of the Fleet. They're great. Positive attitudes. Insightful game-play. And willing to learn and even teach some of us more established players a thing or two.
The veteran players among us are super to campaign with. They lead with gentle wisdom and exceptional on-the-front lines follow me examples. I myself am still learning the ins and outs of this game from interface to what to do on missions I have not done. Everyone present does their best to answer my questions and give me good advice that really comes in handy. I know I am living a lot longer with fewer problems every mission.
Our Starbase is called, The Alamo. I am rather proud of it. More to the way that it was developed. We all worked together to gather the marks, resources and such to help create the Starbase that we all wanted. Our leaders, the founders of the Fleet, made it possible to do this by their incredible pre-planning and precise execution of said plans. They are the heart of our Fleet. And, if they are the heart, then, we fellow members, are the blood. We are dedicated to furthering each other as much as we can with our individual abilities, so that we all can have that much more fun.
If you would like to join, just send a request to Our Lady of Aggression, Whiskey Rose Carmen. I know that she would love to hear from you.
Got any questions, just post them here, or, if you see any of us online, drop us a line.
I raise a tankard of Bloodwine to you all!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
This is Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer of the Redneck Academy Fleet, and, I have a story to tell. Several, actually. But, more on that later. As part of our Fleet initiative, we encourage our members to role play their characters as much or as little as they wish. For my part, I like what is called, Fan Fiction. As such, I have written a short story from my character's point of view. I will post my tale here in the Redneck Academy thread as a three-part serial, since it is a bit long for a single forum post. The idea, beyond the pure joy of sharing a story of mine with you all, is that other members of our Fleet would be moved to post their stories here, as well.
It is now my honor to present to you part 1 of this serial. Enjoy!
Title: The Shapes of Things to come.
Part 1 of 3
"The night is quiet at the Alamo Starbase. I look out my rather rustic view port to the points in between the stars and ponder; the blackness of the void proving a worthy canvas for the projection of my memories. I sit down and pour a large tankard of bloodwine and remember.
It was a beautiful August evening. The sun was setting in bright streaks of red, gold and purple. The breeze was just beginning to pick up, wafting the scent of exotic trees in bloom to my grateful nose. The sand grass began to emerge from its daily refuge beneath the planet's surface, bringing with it a faint violet glow that would dissipate almost as quickly as it appeared. I had stepped outside to gaze at the sky. My beloved Tricia would be in orbit soon. After three years away to the nearest sector of unexplored space, I was really looking forward to being with her again. To look into those knowing eyes. To inhale the perfume she so expertly wore. To once again hold her in my arms. To say I was expectant of her arrival would be to say the least.
This pleasant moon on which we were based was one of a set of three revolving around an irritable seeming red gas giant. Enormous energy storms converged with volatile gasses at a very high atmospheric pressure to produce light shows the like not seen on any other known sphere. The energy emissions from the planet were enough to mask our moon from scans, but, not strong enough on the surface to interfere with normal living. Since we were also located near a sector of unexplored space, Starfleet thought it a perfect place to establish a research station slash exploration starting point.
Our specific location was a closely guarded secret due to the fact that we were also considered a choice strategic location in our fight against forces hostile to the Federation and our allies. Among other threats, the Borg were of prime consideration in our establishment. In truth, Tricia's real mission was to seek out the Borg and observe them clandestinely, if possible. It was hoped that the data her ship gathered would help us counter what was seen as an almost unstoppable adversary.
I stepped back inside when the cool dark descended, the slight wind beginning to develop into its customary nocturnal gale. My station console was beeping an alert as I approached. Excitedly I engaged the view screen. Replacing the blank gray screen was my heart's most fervent wish speaking to me. But, instead of the happy dancing eyes and lilting feminine voice I so longed for, I was greeted by a very concerned face that relayed a seriousness I had seldom seen on her countenance.
Tricia: "Bamm. This is Tricia. Do you read me?"
Bamm-Bamm: "You are coming through clearly. What is your situation, Captain?"
Tricia: "We are being pursued by a Borg cube. We are currently at maximum warp, but, they are gradually gaining on us. They would already have us if not for those experimental warp-core adjustments you sent to us last month. I don't think we can stay ahead of them before we get into orbital defense range of the moon."
Bamm-Bamm: "Tricia, I have alerted Orbital Moon Defense. They have you on their long-range scanners. The closest ship to you is the Science ship, U.S.S. Merlin. It will be able to assist in twenty-minutes."
Tricia: "Bam, that won't be quick enough. The cube has just increased speed and will overtake us in fifteen minutes."
Bamm-Bamm: "Damn! I'll think of something Trish. I have not waited this long to see you to miss out on our date tonight."
Tricia: "Bamm-Bamm. My dear beloved Bamm-Bamm. You have always been my knight riding in to save the day. Come get me. We'll be the ship throwing everything we've got at a stolidly menacing space faring geometry construct."
Bamm-Bamm: "I know you will. Bamm-Bamm, out."
A quick query of Orbital Moon Defense confirmed that there were no other mobile resources available that could hope to arrive in time to help rescue Tricia's ship, the Long Range Reconnaissance Vessel, U.S.S. Alma. There was no other choice. I headed to my lab at the edge of the compound."
End of Part 1.
I will post Part 2 of, "The Shapes of Things to come", August 28th.
Thanks for reading!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain - U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
However that didn't stop me from doffing, acquiring the fleet's first Recluse carrier (EC purchase, with another on the way) and catching up with DS9's final season.
With the starbase frozen at Tier II we no longer are wasting possible millions of Dil on projects that ultimately give little to no benefit to individual pilots.
Rather, everyone's Dil earnings should be channeled to Zen conversions to take advantage of the extremely low exchange rate this season (as low as 152 dil / 1 zen over the weekend).
This approach of "TRIBBLE the trends, achieve maximum profit" allows everyone to build up huge amounts of Zen with which to acquire the c-store ships of their choice on both Fed and KDF factions.
It was possible to earn more than 2,500 Zen within a couple of weeks to purchase a Regent class.
My Youtube Channel
As promised, here is the latest installment of my serial story. Enjoy!
Title: The Shapes of Things to come.
Part 2 of 3
********
Out of breath, I ran through the almost too slow auto-door. "Bamm," my colleague in science called out at my arrival. "I have been monitoring the situation. It is not promising. But, I believe I understand your haste. I have initiated start-up procedures. The capsule should be ready for launch in three minutes." I had always valued my relationship with my Andorian counterpart. I could have hugged him then and there. Enigmatic, Dr. Sandar could have the calm, logical reserve of a Vulcan one minute, and be caught up in uproarious laughter the next. And he was the most underrated authority on applied photonics I knew.
We were researchers here on this secluded moon. Our research project involved the intensive modification of a Mark III - Class A escape type pod into a test-bed for our respective theoretical concepts. Dr. Sandar had outfitted the pod with special prototype holo-emitters employing high-level photonic algorithims that enabled the dynamic configuration of photonic energy into structures more durable than their, "real world", counterparts. This allowed us to essentially create a, "real", ship construct out of thin air. Normally, the power required to maintain such a construct would be prohibitive for such a small vessel. However, my contribution was the invention of a new type of power core. I continued the warp-core size reduction techniques developed during the Defiant-class ship program and progressed them to several levels beyond that ship's core construction. Due to the problem of incremental power loss with each level of increased miniaturization, I embarked on the bolstering of the core with tetryonic energy. The results were phenomenal, if not slightly unstable. We had each taken our ship on a few atmospheric excursions, but, space travel was still untested. Now, we would be giving our novel conveyance a real trial by fire.
I boarded the pod via it's small utilitarian lift gate hatch. I began the secondary startup sequences as the hatch closed behind me. Through the viewscreen, I could see Dr. Sandar look up from his monitors to lift his hand in farewell and good luck. I smiled and nodded back, quickly refocusing on the now humming control station in front of me. With a low mechanical thrum, the safety locks slid into their awaiting slots. Environmental controls pressurized the cabin as I applied quarter power to the ship's holo-systems. The emitters whined to operational temperature. The core was reading stable. I increased to thirty-percent power. At this point, the preprogrammed holo-image began to take shape. We had chosen the form of the in-development Yellowstone runabout since it seemed an optimal form to use. At forty-five percent power, the holo-hull was strong enough for atmospheric flight. I signalled Dr. Sandar to open the hangar bay doors. I opened up the throttle to fifty-percent power as I cleared the still receeding bay doors. Half-way to the ionosphere, I increased power to sixty percent. Now the hull would be as solid as it would get. A view screen of stars greeted me as I passed eighty percent power. I set course for the homing beacon of Tricia's ship.
Now that I was in space, I made a quick ascertainment of the ship's condition. Navigation had a clear signal from the U.S.S. Alma. Holo-emitters were at ninety percent. Core power was steady at eighty percent. I increased the tetryon-plasma mix. One hundred percent power was now available. Going to full throttle, I should intercept the Alma in four minutes. There were no weapons on our little capsule. All we had was the pod's built-in emergency transporter. I was hoping that I could get close enough to the Alma to beam my beloved out of harm's way and make a run for it. The holo-image could be made to be transparent, so as to reduce our signature to that of a lone escape pod. I was hoping that would be enough of an advantage.
One minute from intercept and I had the Alma on my limited sensors. To my horror, the cube had already overcome the Alma and was tractoring her to pieces. I tried to open a channel with the Alma, to let Tricia know that I was almost there. Unfortunately, I could only receive. She could not hear me.
Tricia: "If anyone can hear me. This is the Long Range Reconnaissance Vessel, U.S.S. Alma. A Borg cube is attacking us and I fear that all is lost. I am initiating countermeasures to buy my people more time to get to the escape pods. Bamm-Bamm, I know you are doing what you can to save me, but, I am afraid you will be too late. I love you, Bamm-Bamm. Alright. I have waited as long as I can. Launch all pods. Initiate auto-destruct. Emergency Override: Delta Two. Authorization: Bamm-Bamm One. Mark."
Bamm: "No! No! I am almost there! Wait!"
The sound of the Alma's computer dutifully counting down to it's destruction filled my comm system.
I recklessly increased the tetryon-plasma mix to one hundred-twenty percent. I would be there in 20 seconds.
13, 12..10, 9, 8..
Bamm: "Hold on Trish! I am almost there."
At 3 seconds I could see the hull of the Alma being mercilessly grafted into the structure of the cube.
At 2 seconds, I was beside what was left of the command deck.
At 1 second, I was scanning for her comm signal amidst the Borg interference, hoping desperately for a lock.
At zero seconds, the sensors showed an emergency warp-core breach in progress. Despite the danger, I continued to look for her.
At zerro minus 1 second, I found her signal. At last! I had her!
***********************
Part 3 this Thursday, August 30th, 2012..
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, Captain - U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
From classical air and naval combat doctrines transformed into functional, newbie friendly and uniquely entertaining ESTF strategies, to real world financial management tools to plan and construct a starbase in record time, this formula has never failed us.
Today we see a thread lamenting on the uselessness of the starbase duty officer projects, massively expensive projects, and that people have gotten "stuck doing the same project for 2 weeks".
Well gentlemen, for the past two months I have been exonerating the virtues of concepts such as "strategic prepositioning of resources" and "strategic management" amongst other things.
These bits of valuable advice had however fallen on deaf ears, and we have had received replies that "the system is working as it should".
Now look who is complaining, and who is profiting?
With the new marketplace environment we have financed Recluse carrier groups from sales of formerly worthless commodities alone. We have also, by executive order, ceased ALL starbase construction in order to take advantage of the stupendously low Dilithium Exchange prices.
As a result, our pilots were each capable of raising up to 2,500 Zen every fortnight in order to line their virtual stables with any c-store item or starship of their choosing.
So why do so many people spend real money on starbase construction when such ventures are obviously worthless and do not give them anything in return.
Is it for the grandeur of this mystical thing called "fleet progression"?
Or is it just blind peer pressure to compete, compete more, just because everyone else is rushing to achieve that little "something new"?
Well I will tell you this - it's nothing new to make people want something, give nothing in return, and ignore consumer complaints. After all, those who failed to plan ahead and to plan and lead well, have led their followers into dead ends in due course.
There's no point complaining about mistakes.
But where there's an option to avoid all that lament and instead ride the surf and profit from global market conditions... RnA is here to achieve that and has always have.
We are a fleet that's not interested in the status quo. We are the NEXT GENERATION of gamers - interested not in senseless petty squabbles but collaboration, outreach and team victory.
For those who have joined us, you know exactly what sort of organization we are developing. For everyone else... our doors are always open.
My Youtube Channel
How do you like the story so far? I hope you are enjoying it.
Below, please find the third and last installment in this first story of many.
Title: The Shapes of Things to come..
Part 3
***************************************
I initiated transport just as a little considered piece of software in the escape pod's operational matrix enabled itself. This standardized piece of code that had been part of every Federation escape pod constructed, recognized the impending threat and took measures to counter it. In this case, that was to engage full thrusters to get as far away from the core breach as possible. The resultant redistribution of ship's energy had the effect of destabilizing the transport beam. I watched the transporter pad powerless to re-establish transporter power, despite my best efforts.
As her Captain had planned, the Alma's core breached, exploding with enough force to vaporize nearly half of the Borg cube. However, her Captain did not go down with her ship. No. She was engulfed in a deteriorating transporter beam on a prototype escape pod that was currently tumbling nearly powerless through space from the shockwave of the Alma's self-destruct. Inertial dampeners failing, I held on to the transport console, while my beloved Tricia's body phased in and out of existence on the transporter pad. When she had nearly completely coalesced, I heard her whisper, "I love you." And then she was gone.
One of the transporter's power conduits shorted out, blowing a panel down on my head, knocking me out. I came to in my own comfortable bed, in my own comfortable quarters, on our paradise of a moon, without the person who made it our home. Her fading image still in my mind's eye. The last words she ever spoke, a deafening noise within my ears.
The U.S.S. Merlin had arrived soon after the Alma's self-destruction and resultant crippling of the Borg cube. Trish's.....Captain Tricia's heroic rear-action had bought her crew their safety. Seventy percent of ship's personell were recovered. The Merlin found my forlorn pod several kilometers away in a small asteroid field. The onboard control systems were still firing maneuvering rockets to keep the pod safely away from the floating debris when the Merlin tractored it and beamed me aboard. Their Doctor stabilized my injuries and had me sent to my quarters on the moon to recover. Several months later, the Borg attacked the Federation at Wolf 359. I was still grieving Tricia's death when I heard of the attack. I made up my mind then and there that I had to do my part to drive away the Borg, to prevent anyone else from losing their loved ones to this heartless and cruel adversary.
I joined Starfleet to train as a Captain. After graduation, I was commissioned to Escort duty. I requested posting in the most far flung, inhospitable sectors of space where the Borg were known to roam. As a more or less independent expeditionary force, I and my fellow officers were left to our own cognizance on how to conduct operations. It is in this vein, that we have come together as like-minded individuals to form our own Fleet. A Redneck Academy Fleet. Where we work together to get the job done no matter what, no matter the circumstance. As a group, we commissioned the construction of this Starbase. The Alamo. It is from here that we stage our raids against any and all threats to the Federation, but, especially, the Borg.
I drained the bitter dregs of the bloodwine from my tankard. Vision blurred, I made the familiar trek to my bedroom quarters. My last thoughts before forgetful slumber had her way were of my beloved Trish.
"I miss you. I love you. Good night."
*******************************************
I hope you have been entertained by my story. Please feel free to post your comments concerning it or other RP related topics here in our Redneck Fleet forum thread.
I look forward to reading your stories, fellow Fleet members.
Captain Bamm-Bamm Hammer, U.S.S. Horace
Redneck Academy Fleet
Profit not for the group but for yourself: what do you hope to achieve playing STO?
Certain other fleets place a high regard on code of conduct, in-game performance or even social interaction.
But what does the individual get in return? That good feeling about being "part of a gang"?
Having an entry in the starbase construction hall of fame?
With the game being designed as a massive time sink, one can be assured that the answer is actually this: You get nothing at all, and any rewards are pretty much a trick in perception.
You can be sure that if you personally financed an entire starbase tier that you have wasted countless hours grinding dilithium and wasting in-game resources to compete with a flawed supply and demand market.
Worse, there appears to be very strong peer pressure amongst fleets to attain the best and biggest bases, or to be at the top of whatever competitions held amongst said community.
This has resulted in no one but PWE having a vast cash flow resulting from impulse purchases of zen and z-store ships as players "follow the Joneses".
Ironically, this current market trend has allowed us to profit greatly from boycotting the starbase system (after a certain point) and focusing on profit at the personal level instead.
A modest release of Romulan ale into the global market financed for us no less than three Recluse carriers. The rock bottom Dil - Zen conversion rate meant we each "bought" z-store ships once every fortnight with just a modest allocation of attention to dilithium farming.
So as others seemed to think it a good idea to expend real money to build their bases, we thought it more worthwhile to make NO purchases at all, because for the money spent on your next z-store purchase, you could have done massively more enjoyable and more productive things IRL.
The memories and investments made in IRL are lifelong.
One player's commitment to an STO fleet is worthless. And I say this because I do not want to see heroes coming in and saying - "I should 'help' the fleet by dumping 500k dil into the next tier." In here, veterans finance. Players lead the teams, free from liabilities and draconian (read: idiotic) rules of engagement that has plagued end-game content in STO for as long as we can remember.
So go forth and prosper. Video games are supposed to be entertainment and fun. They are not supposed to degenerate into the kind of internet self-ego-boosting asshattery you see in "certain sections of the forums" for the whole of Year 2012.
My Youtube Channel
Reached 50 on my Klingon and bought the Bortasqu 3 Pack. Can't wait to get that beast running properly!
This is Capt. Bamm-Bamm Hammer of the Redneck Academy Fleet. I wanted to make you aware that we have a new ad running on Sub Space radio concerning our Fleet. I would be mighty obliged if you went on over to their channel and listened in. They did a real good job on it.
Also, if you are looking for a laid back fleet of pilots that are friendly and knowledgable, with no name calling or drama, Redneck Academy is for you. Give us a try.
We will be running missions most every day, but, especially Friday evenings, Saturday and Sundays. Just give us a buzz when you are online and we will gladly add you to our fun.
Take care!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, VA.
Redneck Academy Fleet
Hi, my name is Vice Admiral Andreas Cruise of the U.S.S. Son Of Ramon-E, telling you that you don't have to struggle to acquire whatever you wish, and I can show you how. Here at Redneck Academy, we teach pilots how to balance having fun with applied economics with insights from individuals who have the know-how and experience derived from real life...
Believe it or not, the Exchange is a great learning tool to understand the fundamentals of economics. We can teach you how to maximize your profits on the Exchange while at the same time being able to enjoy your STO experience. With the knowledge you can gain, you will never feel cheated out of being able to enjoy having all the bells and whistles!
So give us a try!
Contact @son_of_ramon, @polonious1, or @krylm for recruitment info.
GOOD HUNTING
IF YOU ARE READING MY SIG - THEN YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG
I just wanted to drop a little note letting you know that we had an excellent time running misions together this Saturday. Thanks to all who participated.
Got some Borg chips, salvage and such. Did some trading. Made bad guys go boom.
We will be running missions and eps/STFs and all again this Saturday. Come on over and join the fun. We'll make room for ya at the Alamo. That's our Starbase.
First one to log-in gets to pick the beer. Course, you got to go get it, too.
See you there!
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, VA
Redneck Academy Fleet
U.S.S. Horace - Regent:Bulldog Variant
I'm a mature gamer, fairly sorted IRL apart from computer game addiction. :rolleyes:
Not especially chatty but quite personable. I also have a thick skin so tell me if I ask too many questions.
I spent 20 mins making my char look decent only all I get to see now is the back of his head, which I didn't focus on at all.
Morkon@mrfragtastic
We will be sure to send you an invite asap.
As most of us are at work, it may have to be later today EST, but, we will get one to you.
We look forward to you joining us.
Bamm-Bamm Hammer, VA
Redneck Academy Fleet
U.S.S. Horace - Regent
U.S.S. Memoria - Escort
Good afternoon Morkon
In regard to you requesting to join our fleet... we are more than honored to join us, however upon sending you the request to join, an error ocurred. It appears that you are still a part of a fleet. So it says. So either you have been sent an invite and you still haven't accepted or you need to leave your previous fleet before you can join us. Just let us know if everything on your end is squared away so that we can re-send the invite.
And welcome to the Rednecks!
@sonoframon
IF YOU ARE READING MY SIG - THEN YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG
Ah yes, I got a flyby invite from some random fleet but I've found the leave button so please invite again.
Shameless bump for the win. No seriously...
We are looking for a few good pilots... are you willing to step up and answer our call?
contact @son_of_ramon, @krylm, @carmenara, or @polonious1 to request an invite to the Redneck Academy - We turn greenhorns into battle-hardened players
IF YOU ARE READING MY SIG - THEN YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG
In other news, we are actively seeking recruits with a sense of adventure and comradely to join our ranks. We are an established medium sized fleet with about 20 members that love all aspects of STO. We do weekly STF runs and also tutor new recruits on the many subtleties of the game. Whether you're a seasoned pilot looking for a tight knit group of fellow pilots to run missions with, or if you're new to the game and want to learn from experienced pilots, then this is your fleet.
For more information, or if you're ready to roam the universe with a fleet that is a cut above the rest, please send an in-game message to @son_of_ramon, @polonious1, or @krylm.
I hope you choose us as your fleet
sonoframon, co-leader of Redneck Academy
IF YOU ARE READING MY SIG - THEN YOU ARE DOING IT WRONG
This is Capt. Bamm-Bamm Hammer talking to you from the SB Alamo.
We're having a BBQ running this week and all of next weekend. I was wanting to send you an invite to join us. We'll have the fires goin' in our special plasma conduit smokers. We use super secret smoke wood from Bajor to give everything from Targ to Tribbles that great smokey flavor. You bring the beer and bloodwine, and we will handle everything else. Klingons are invited. Shoot. Our best griller is an old Klingon friend of mine.
Come on over and have some fun.
Join us anytime.
See you there!
Capt. Bamm-Bamm Hammer
U.S.S. Horace - Regent: Bulldog variant
U.S.S. Memoria - Escort