Enjoy.
Part 2 added below the ++++++
Completed under ======
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The Navy transport swung clear of the hanger gate, the orbital shuttle falling quickly behind when suddenly the whole ship trembled and a bright flash of light streamed in the port side window.
"Lieutenant, what was that."
"Shockwave sir,"
"I know that, but where did it come from?"
"Readings indicate that the trading station's passenger transport just exploded."
The bright glow of the explosion faded to be replaced with the comms channel lighting up and becoming jammed with agitated chatter.
Ban Danna looked at Val’s concerned face and smiled encouragingly. She tried to return the smile but only managed a very forced grin. Again she had cheated death. Had it been an accident or had her enemies caught up with her already? Either way, how many more chances would she get?
“I guess I have to thank you for giving me a lift on your ship.”
“It was a pleasure to be of assistance.” The Admiral smiled.
The transport ship docked only briefly at the trading station for Val to get change into her Barracuda. Arox appeared very glad that Val was back.
“You know, I never thought an AI to be capable of a decision like the one you made when you brought me here. Thanks for saving my life.”
“Nothing but a quick assessment of my options and all other options appeared to be worse.”
“How flattering! I missed you too. And now get us out of here. You can tell me all the latest news on our journey home.”
*
“Welcome back home. We already thought we’d have to appoint a new director of the company!” Tagor had entered Val’s office and hugged her. Behind him Bola Ti floated into the room. “Please excuse if I don’t hug you, these environmental suits do make showing affection rather awkward. Be assured that I am at least as happy and relieved to see you are back as anybody else.”
Val walked over to him, embraced the bulky suit and looked at him laughingly. “Guys, you can’t be happier than I am. I am most grateful for Arox for saving my life and consider rewarding her by painting the Barracuda pink. Would you be happy with that?” The last question was directed to Arox who, however, chose to remain silent, causing everybody to laugh.
“I had a word with your prisoner.”
“Prisoner? Oh, right, Reg. How is he doing?”
“Well, I think he is a bit confused. He can’t really decide if he should hate you for disposing of his boss and turning his fighter into scrap metal or being grateful that you didn’t kill him. My judgement would be his ego is severely dented, typical hotshot.”
“Good assessment indeed. He praised him and his two mates the toughest fighter group in the universe and it must be kind of daunting when he had to realise that he is far from being invincible.”
“And neither are you, I understand.”
“Thank you for reminding me, how could I forget? Well, one lesson I learnt was to have my helmet close to me rather locked away tidily. I will also have to look at a few strategies for a fight with Massdriver-equipped ships.”
“Now, what do you intend to do with him?”
“Not sure actually. He is a very good pilot and if I could be sure he doesn’t run away or backstab me I’d employ him. Before that I’d probably have to dispose of his two friends, that way he’d have nobody to return to other than his family, obviously.”
“Arox did show us the fight recordings. I believe I have seen one of the guys in a fight before. If we are talking about the same person, he used to be a first class Argon Navy pilot. Though I haven’t seen his face but the combat style looks familiar and there aren’t too many ace pilots around.”
“We should get Ban Danna to provide us with some info on the guy. Which one do you think to recognise, the one that lost one of his guns or the other one?”
“The third one. I think the guy that hit you with the 'stray' shot is a no more dangerous than the boy you caught.”
“Ok, that would be Jasso then. When did you see him?”
“A couple of jazuras ago we received a video report of a battle in Wastelands. A large pirate force tried to overrun the sector, which would have been an easy task because, naturally, these sparsely populated outer sectors are not very well defended. Cutting a long story short, Jasso, as you call him, was leader of the heavy fighter squad of the trading station. He and three other pilots were the only survivors of the event. From what we can see the only reason why our forces succeeded was his outstanding skill at the stick.”
“So why would he change sides? After all that I’d expect him to be highly decorated and moving up the ranks fast.”
“Some people aren’t made for leadership positions. He was offered a position as instructor at the Navy base in The Wall but declined and remained in Wastelands. One tazura a small Xenon convoy entered the sector and he was allegedly shot down, which came as quite a surprise. Now, if this is the guy we do not need to wonder any longer how that was possible. Let’s send an encrypted message to the Admiral and see if he knows more.”
“Right, now that that is decided, what have you been up to? Haven’t seen you in a while, I mean even before I … err … decided to spend more time in bed for a few wozuras. Did you find anything out about who tried to kill you?”
Tagor shifted his position on the couch making himself comfortable and related his findings.
++++++
“Welcome onboard this pirate station, matey. The casino is in the visitor’s area to the left, right next to it the restaurant and, after you spent all your remaining credits in the casino bar, drag yourself to the opposite side of hall to the recovery bunks.”
“Well, thank you. Do you guys always provide such concise information or are you just trying to make sure I’ll leave all my credits on this station.”
There was no response, leaving the impression it was a pre-recorded welcome message.
What else, probably all pirates were licking their wounds or repairing ships. I destroyed quite a few and so did you. It has been a while but pirates did not have the resources to quickly recover from setbacks like that one a few wozuras back.
The hangar looked pretty deserted. There were a couple of Bayamons docked to my left and at the far right I noticed three Mambas, which was a surprise. The pirate M4’s were held by docking clamps that looked different to the ones that secured my ship. It appeared the pirates had developed special clamps for their own ships. Just why exactly they would do that, I don’t know. I made a couple of requests for a docking tunnel but there was neither vocal response nor did I see a tunnel anywhere around the ship. So I finally donned my helmet and moved out through the airlock locking it from the outside. Looking around I saw a wire or cord hanging down near the ship and it appeared to lead to the hangar door.
‘So this is their version of a access tunnel. Hmm … no expenses spared.’
A closer look at the nearest Bayamon also revealed why different clamps had been developed. What at my ship was a single cord appeared to be a sling that was looped around a wheel at each end. One has to assume that it could be powered up allowing the pilots to get either fast to the hangar door or fast to their ship by simply holding on to it. Nonetheless, I reached out for my cord and pulled myself towards the hangar door. Opening it lead me to what looked like the repair area. There was still no atmosphere only slight but noticeable gravity in this section. I moved across the hall to the lifts. The few mechanics looked at me curiously; perhaps my suit was too clean. There were a lot of ship parts lying around and I could only make out three assembled ships. Well, almost assembled.
One of the mechanics motioned with his head for me to go towards one of the doors. At first I ignored it but when I reached the lifts I realised what he was on about. Out of order. Stairs it was. Needless to say that by the time I reached the fourth level I was not only hungry but also thirsty.
Considering the fact that a bar is always a good place to gather information, I decided to head for a drink first and leave food for later. Loud music made it easy to find the establishment. At least they called it music on that station; some Split screaming to hard sounds of drums and citars was more appropriately categorised as noise, if you ask me. Anyway, I entered the smoky room and immediately wished I hadn’t. The strong stench of Spaceweed mixed with Spacefuel and sweat did create a rather revolting mix. On the other hand, I should be used to it by now.
I ordered a drink at the bar and looked around. On stage there were a bunch of, mostly, attractive young scantily clad Argon females embarking on a rather unpleasant show, egged on by a group of rowdy pirates making lewd comments. In the far corner there was a table with three guys, two very young, the other one about my age. They were quiet and looked uncomfortable. The older of the two frequently looked towards the door, as if he was expecting somebody. A few tables further were a couple of Paranid and a Teladi, seemingly haggling. I am always amazed how much guts Teladi can develop defending prospective profit. This one was no different. The tall shape of one of the Paranid loomed over him, yet he did not appear to give in. That was pretty much it, with the exception of a drunk who didn’t seem to have anything better to do than beat up new arrivals. Just when I turned towards the barkeeper again I heard his voice from behind me, complaining about one thing or another and when I looked over my shoulder I had just enough time to avoid his fist.
“Hey my friend, watch it, you could fall.” And I carefully guided him to the bar for support.
“Shu have no right to dwink here. Dis is my place and mine only. I am going to …” With these words the drunk made his next attack. Nobody appeared to care, apart from the two waitresses maybe that stood at the other end of the bar and had interrupted their conversation. Anyway, I ducked under his extending arm and gently pushed him against the bar.
“Mate, can we settle this with a drink? I get you another glass of whatever you want and we sign a peace treaty. Deal?”
He looked a bit puzzled but eventually gave in. I ordered a drink and we walked to one of the tables. Considering his state there may be something I could find out talking to him.
Turned out he had been one of the pilots sent to switch my lights off, not that he was aware of it. According to his description you must have given them quite a fight at odds that had them too arrogant for too long to cause any severe affliction on your side. Anyway, he thought you weren’t from this universe and your ship not really of Boron made. You‘ll have to tell me more about that beam weapon of yours. I did hear through the grapevine that this may be the weapon that the Boron are starting to produce for their military and that of the Argon. Though, decent info is still sparse. Don’t laugh; you know what they say: boys and toys. This phrase doesn’t exist for no reason.
Anyway, he told me that you shredded some thirty ships and only a couple of Mandalays made it out in one piece. He was one of those survivors. But getting out alive wasn’t so great either, from what he told me. He had basically been made redundant and lost his ship. Now stuck on the station without income, you can imagine what that does to people. It appeared the only reason why he even managed to get that drunk was because of those three young chaps in the corner, who had paid him decently for details on your fight.
That obviously made me curious and I decided to find out more about them. Since I can’t currently tap into the Argon intelligence database I had to make do with what the pirates had to offer. The drunk couldn’t tell me much, only that they were renown for their piloting skills and as reliable assassins. Luckily it was easy to hack into the station computer, which I did later on. What I found was rather interesting but also unsettling.
======
Over the following wozura I explored the station and tried to gather some intel. The station itself is in a pretty bad state. There appeared to be some motion of various parties wanting to take over from the current leader. I guess we haven’t heard the last. Perhaps next news will be a gigantic explosion dispersing that heap of junk in all directions. Anyway, I started scouting the main forum and walked through the various shops. A bored looking Teladi eventually told me something interesting; not before I bought some over-priced map updates, though. He said the Curada clan had hired the entire fleet of the station for an intercept mission. We know whom they intercepted, luckily he didn’t. I guess my past had caught up with me there. When I asked about lucrative jobs available at the station he mentioned that nice prize on your head. Somebody has paid a hefty sum for your assassination, even more for apprehension. My attempts to track down who was behind it did not lead anywhere so far; it appeared to be a broker of sorts without designated home base, as you would expect, really. Considering the amount of several millions of credits one would assume that not only one person is after you. Any guess?
If it weren’t pretty dangerous to be in your position, I’d almost admire your ability to piss off people to such an extent. You need to tell me your secret at some point.
I think I need a drink; my throat is getting sore from all that talking.
That’s better.
I told you what I found out about Jasso before. His two friends I consider hotshots. They obviously admire him but probably also consider themselves superior at the stick. The three of them are well known in the pirate world as Kr’ta’s Fist. Through their bravado and excellence they destroyed the flagship of the Dragon clan a few mazuras back, which operated from the Split sectors. If one can trust the formal and informal reports then there weren’t any survivors of that clan. Anyway, since that event they have been conducting several major raids, assassinations and kidnappings for the Kr’ta clan, hence the name. Young pilots have been lining up to become part of the team. For some reason, however, they never increased their team. When I found out that you were subject of their current contract I left the station immediately to warn you. Unfortunately that was too late, they had left three tazuras earlier and there was no trace of you. Calling into the power plant Arox informed asked me to come home and told me the news. I am glad you made it and it has been a bit of a surprise to see one of the hotshots locked in the detention quarter.
*
With these words Tagor took another sip of his drink and looked at Val expecting to hear her story.
